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Transcriber’s Notes: Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ in the original text. Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved. Typographical errors have been silently corrected. AN ATTEMPT TO ANALYSE THE AUTOMATON CHESS PLAYER. HOWLETT and BRIMMER, Printers, 10, Frith Street, Soho. [Illustration: _Plate 1. To face the Title. Fig. 1._] [Illustration: _Fig. 2._ _Drawn on Stone by the Author. Printed by C. Hullmandel._] AN ATTEMPT TO ANALYSE THE AUTOMATON CHESS PLAYER, OF MR. DE KEMPELEN. WITH AN EASY METHOD OF IMITATING THE MOVEMENTS OF THAT CELEBRATED FIGURE. ILLUSTRATED BY ORIGINAL DRAWINGS. TO WHICH IS ADDED, A COPIOUS COLLECTION OF THE KNIGHT’S MOVES OVER THE CHESS BOARD. _LONDON_: PRINTED FOR J. BOOTH, DUKE STREET, PORTLAND PLACE. 1821. Mine eyes are made the fools o’ the other senses. SHAKSPEARE. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes. MILTON. AN ATTEMPT TO ANALYSE, &c. The Automaton Chess Player was first introduced into England by Mr. de Kempelen, its inventer, about the year 1783. It was brought again into this country two years ago, and exhibited under the direction of a very ingenious gentleman, Mr. Maelzel. The annexed drawings, (plate 1, figs. 1 and 2,) represent the general appearance of the machine. It runs on castors, and is either seen on the floor when the doors of the apartment are thrown open, or is wheeled into the room at the commencement of the exhibition. The exhibiter, in order to shew the mechanism, as he informs the spectators, unlocks the door (A, fig. 1.) of the chest, which exposes to view a small cupboard, lined with black or dark coloured cloth, and containing different pieces of machinery, which seem to occupy the whole space. He next opens the door (B, fig. 2.) at the back of the same cupboard, and, holding a lighted candle at the opening, still further exposes the machinery within. The candle being withdrawn, the door (B) is then locked. The drawer (G G, fig. 1.) in the front of the chest is next opened, and a set of chess men, a small box of counters, and a cushion for the support of the Automaton’s arm, are taken out of it. The exhibiter now opens the two front doors (C C, fig. 1.) of the large cupboard, and the back door (D, fig. 2.) of the same, and applies a candle as in the former case. This cupboard is lined with cloth like the other, but it contains only a few pieces of machinery. The chest is now wheeled round, the garments of the figure are lifted up, and the door (E, fig. 2,) in the trunk, and another (F,) in the thigh, are opened. But it must be observed that the doors (B and D) are closed. The circumstance is mentioned, because Mr. de Windisch, in his letters on this subject, has a passage which would seem to imply that Mr. Maelzel’s mode of exhibiting the interior differs from that which Mr. de Kempelen employed. “But do not imagine,” says De Windisch, “like many others, that the inventer shuts one door as he opens another; the entire Automaton is seen at the same time uncovered, his garments turned up, and the drawer opened, as well as all the doors of the chest.” Now a reference to De Kempelen’s second drawing, published by Mechel, and annexed to De Windisch’s letters, will shew that, when the chest was turned round, the doors (B and D) were actually closed, as they always have been under the direction of Mr. Maelzel. In the chest of the latter gentleman, indeed, the doors in question are suspended by hinges attached to the upper part, (as in fig. 2), and consequently close by their own gravity. But the fact is, that the exhibiter never fails to lock them, though he leaves the keys in one of the locks. The other doors are allowed to swing about whilst the chest is wheeled round. The chest is now restored to its former position on the floor; the doors in front, and the drawer, are closed and locked; and the exhibiter, after he has occupied some time at the back of the chest, in apparently adjusting the machinery, removes the pipe from the hand of the figure, winds up the works, and the Automaton begins to move. These movements, resulting as they appear to do, from mere mechanism, yet strongly impressed with the distinctive character of an intellectual guidance, have excited the admiration of the curious during a period little short of forty years. In that time various conjectures have been offered to the world as solutions of the problem; but no one, as far as I know, have attempted to imitate the movements, it is fair to conclude, either that the means proposed are inadequate to the end, or that the description of them is too imperfect to enable a workman to complete the machinery. Automata may be divided into three classes—the simple—the compound—and the spurious. The first class comprises those insulated Automata whose movements result from mechanism alone; by the aid of which they perform certain actions, and continue them, so long as the moving force is kept in an active state. The second class includes those Automata, which, like the former, are moved by machinery; but, possessing at the same time a communication, not immediately apparent, with human agency, are enabled to change the regular order and succession of their movements, according to existing circumstances; and hence, in some measure, to assume the character of living beings. The third class contains those Automata which, under the semblance only of mechanism, are wholly directed and controlled by a concealed human agent. The phenomena of the Chess Player are inconsistent with the effects of mere mechanism; for, however great and surprising the powers of mechanism may be, the movements that spring from it, are necessarily limited and uniform: it cannot usurp and exercise the faculties of mind; it cannot be made to vary its operations, so as to meet the ever-varying circumstances of a game of chess. This is the province of intellect alone; and the Chess Player must consequently relinquish all claim to be admitted into the first division. Let us examine its title to be ranked in the second class. * * * * * The chess board contains sixty-four squares, and in order to execute the movements of the Chess Player, distinct trains of machinery must be formed, which shall be capable, when set in motion, of conveying the hand of the Automaton to each, and to any, of these several squares. Having arrived at a square, and taken up a chess man, it will be requisite, either to withdraw the hand towards the side, and without the limits of the board, for the purpose of letting drop the chess man there, and thence to proceed to another square, and remove a chess man to a third square; or it may be required to pass at once from the first square to any other on the board, and there to deposit the man. These movements must be promptly performed, and repeated as often as the circumstances of the game may call for them. Setting aside a great variety of minor details, it will be evident to any person, even slightly acquainted with mechanics, that the execution of these movements, so extensive, so complicated, and so variable, would be attended with difficulties almost insurmountable; but we will suppose for a moment that these obstacles are overcome; let it be conceded that a machine has been constructed so perfect, that, on giving motion to the respective trains, the required movement shall be instantly performed. What then? The main object will be still unattained! Where is the intelligence and the “promethean heat” that can animate the Automaton and direct its operations? Not only must an intellectual agent be provided, but between such an agent and his deputy, the Automaton, a direct communication must be formed and preserved, liable to no interruption, and yet so secret that the penetrating eye of the most inquisitive observer may not be able to detect it. Till this be done, the Chess Player’s title to be admitted into the second division will, at any rate, continue in abeyance. I am aware that on this part of the subject conjecture has been busy, and different plans have been devised for the maintenance of the intercourse alluded to. The task has been imposed on the exhibiter of the machine, he being the only person on whom it could devolve with even a shadow of probability; and to effect his purpose it has been suggested that he might touch certain springs, or pull “a wire not much thicker than a hair,” or be furnished with a powerful magnet. But such conjectures are unworthy of serious refutation; for besides the uncertainty and constant liability to interruption of such modes of communication, they are actually at variance with the uniform conduct of the exhibiter. Whoever has witnessed the exhibition will have seen that the exhibiter is not confined to a particular spot in the room, but, on the contrary, that he is frequently, during the progress of the game, at a distance from the chest, far beyond the sphere of influence of any of these proposed modes; and if, at such times, the Automaton can move a single joint, it is proof decisive that its action springs from another source. Having now shewn how difficult, and perhaps impossible, it would be to execute the movements of the Chess Player by mechanism, and maintain, at the same time, a communication with the agent, who would be required to give life, as it were, and intelligence to the operations, it becomes necessary to inquire whether the prevailing opinion, which attributes these movements to machinery, be, or be not, established in fact; for, if this opinion should be found, on examination, to originate merely in the artful management and display of some parts of the apparatus, and to rest on no solid basis, there would be no longer any embarrassment in appreciating the real value of the Chess Player, nor in apportioning a proper station for it, considered as a work of art. At the commencement of the exhibition the spectators are gratuitously made acquainted with the interior of the chest, which is divided into two unequal compartments, and occupied by pieces of machinery, so arranged, as apparently to render the concealment of any human being impossible. When the movements of the Automaton begin, the beholders, in the first moments of surprise, and in the absence of any ostensible living cause, very naturally refer the effect to the mechanism, which has been exhibited; and with likelihood enough, for the movements immediately follow the familiar action and well known sound of winding up clockwork, and are moreover very skillfully accompanied by the grating noise of moving wheels. But, these indications excepted, where is the evidence that the machinery moves, or that the slightest influence is exerted by it on the arm of the Automaton? The whole is excluded from view, and a moment’s reflection will convince any one that no stress can be laid on the winding up, nor on the accompanying sounds, which are imitable in various ways. If, however, no proof can be given of the actual movement of the machinery, the following considerations will tend to shew that it remains quiescent, and is probably not formed for motion. An artist, whose talents had enabled him to contrive machinery capable of executing the varied and extensive movements displayed by the Automaton, would surely be desirous of laying open to view as much of the mechanism of his contrivance, while in actual motion, as he could do, consistently with the reservation of his secret; if for no other reason, at least to convince the lookers-on that deception formed no part of his plan. Now it cannot be reasonably urged, in vindication of the inventer’s forbearance, in the instance of the Chess Player, that even a glance at any part of the machinery in motion would betray the secret; for a question will immediately arise, Why then is the machinery at rest so freely exposed? On that score no apprehension seems to be entertained; the chest is ostentatiously opened, and the semblance, at least, of wheels, and pullies, and levers, is submitted to inspection without reserve: but when their reality should appear, and their connection with the Automaton be made manifest, the doors are carefully closed, and the spectators are required to pay large drafts on their credulity, without any means of further examination. The glaring contradiction between eager display on the one hand, and studied concealment on the other, can only be reconciled by considering the exhibition of the mechanism as a mere stratagem, calculated to distract the attention, and mislead the judgment, of the spectators. The truth of this opinion receives additional support from the regular and undeviating mode of disclosing the interior of the chest. If the mechanism were the real object in view, the whole being quiescent, it would be matter of indifference which part was first laid open; and accident alone, unless powerful reasons operated against it, would lead occasionally to some variation. But no variation has ever been observed to take place. One uniform order, or routine, is strictly adhered to, and this circumstance alone is sufficient to awaken suspicion, for it shews plainly that more is intended by the disclosure than is permitted to meet the eye. It has already been suggested, that little stress could be laid on the winding up: indeed the simple act of turning round a key or winder can offer no argument in proof of the efficiency of the machinery, unless at the same time it could be shewn that the key, in turning, either acted upon a spring, or pulled up a weight, for the purpose of giving motion to the machinery in question. But unluckily for the Chess Player, the phenomena afford positive proof that the axis turned by the key is quite free, and unconnected, either with a spring, or a weight, or any system of machinery. In all machines requiring to be wound up, two consequences are inseparable from their construction: the first is, that, in winding up the machinery, the key is limited in the number of its revolutions; and the second is, that some relative proportion must be constantly maintained betwixt the winding up and the work performed, in order to enable the machine to continue its movements. Now these results are not observable in the Chess Player; for the Automaton will sometimes execute sixty-three moves with only one winding up; at other times the exhibiter has been observed to repeat the winding up after seven moves, and even three moves; and once, probably from inadvertence, without the intervention of a single move; whilst, in every instance and the circumstance, though trifling, calls for particular attention, (for, in these matters, be it remembered, “trifles light as air, are confirmations strong,”) the key appeared to perform the same number of revolutions; evincing thereby, that the revolving axis was unconnected with machinery, except, perhaps, a ratchet-wheel and click, or some similar apparatus, to enable it to produce the necessary sounds, consequently that the key, like that of a child’s watch, might be turned, whenever the purposes of the exhibition seemed to require it. * * * * * I shall now pass on to the third division, and point out a method by which any person, well skilled in the game, and not exceeding the ordinary bulk or stature, may secretly animate the Automaton, and successfully imitate the movements of Mr. De Kempelen’s Chess Player. The general plan and dimensions of the chest will be understood by inspecting the plates, but some particulars, relative to the interior, will require further explanation. The drawer (GG, plate 5,) when closed, does not reach to the back of the chest; it leaves a space (O) behind it, about 1 foot 2 inches broad, 8 inches high, and 3 feet 11 inches long. This space is never exposed to view. The small cupboard is divided into two parts by the door or screen (I, fig. 6,) which is moveable on a hinge, and is so contrived that when B is closed, this screen may be closed also. The machinery (H) occupies the whole of the front division as far as I; the hinder division is nearly empty, and communicates with the space behind the drawer, the floor of this division being removed. The back of the great cupboard is double, and the part (P Q,) to which the quadrants, &c. are attached, moves on a joint (Q), at the upper part, and forms, when raised, an opening (S) between the two cupboards, by carrying with it part of the partition (R), which is composed of cloth stretched tight. Fig. 10 shews the false back closed. Fig. 11 shews the same raised, forming the opening (S) between the chambers. When the trunk of the figure is exposed by lifting up the dress, it will be seen that a great part of it is occupied by an inner trunk (N), which passes off towards the back in the form of an arch, (fig. 2), and conceals a portion of the interior from the view of the spectators. This inner trunk opens to the chest by an aperture (T, fig. 9), about 1 foot 3 inches high, by 1 foot broad. When the false back is raised, the two chambers, the trunk, and the space behind the drawer, are all connected together. The player may be introduced into the chest through the sliding panel (U, fig. 6), at the end. He will then elevate the false back of the large cupboard, and assume the position represented by the dotted lines in figs. 3 and 4. Every thing being thus prepared, “the charm’s wound up,” and the exhibiter may begin his operations by opening the door (A). From the crowded and very ingenious disposition of the machinery in this cupboard, the eye is unable to penetrate far beyond the opening, and the spectator is led to conclude that the whole space is occupied with a similar apparatus. This illusion is strengthened and confirmed by observing the glimmering light which plays among the intricacies of the machinery, and occasionally meets the eye, when the lighted candle is held at the door (B). A fact, too, is ascertained, which is equally satisfactory, though indeed for opposite reasons, to the spectator and the exhibiter, viz. that no opake body of any magnitude is interposed between the light and the spectator’s eye. The door (B) must now be locked, and the screen (I) closed, which being done at the moment the light is withdrawn, will wholly escape observation. It has already been mentioned, that the door (B), from its construction, closes by its own weight; but as the player’s head will presently be very near it, the secret would be endangered, if, in turning round the chest, this door were, by any accident, to fly open; it becomes necessary, therefore, “to make assurance double sure,” and turn the key. If the circumstance should be observed, it will probably be considered as accidental, the keys being immediately wanted for the other locks. The opening (B) being once secured, and the screen (I) closed, the success of the experiment may be deemed complete. The secret is no longer exposed to hazard; and the exhibiter is at liberty to shape his conduct in any way, he may think, most likely to secure the confidence of the spectators, and lead them insensibly from the main object of pursuit. The door (A) may be safely left open; and this will tend to confirm the opinion, which the spectators probably formed on viewing the candle through this cupboard, that no person was concealed within it: it will further assure them that nothing can pass in the interior without their knowledge, so long as this door continues open. The drawer stands next in the order of succession: it is opened, _apparently_, for the purpose of taking out the chess men, cushion, &c. but _really_ to allow time for the player to change his position, (see fig. 5.) and to replace the false back and the partition, preparatory to the opening of the great cupboard. The machinery is so thinly scattered over this cupboard, that the eye surveys the whole space at one glance, and it might seem unnecessary to open a door at the back, and to hold a lighted candle there, as in the former instance; but the artifice is dictated by sound policy, which teaches that the exhibiter cannot be too assiduous in affording facilities to explore every corner and recess, which, he well knows, contain nothing that he is desirous of concealing. The chest may now be wheeled round for the purpose of shewing the trunk of the figure; leaving, however, the front doors of the great chamber open. The bunch of keys, too, should be suffered to remain in the door (D); for the apparent carelessness of such a proceeding will serve to allay any suspicion, which the circumstance of locking the door (B) might have excited, more especially as the two doors resemble one another in point of construction. When the drapery has been lifted up, and the doors in the trunk and thigh opened, the chest may be returned to its former situation, and the doors be closed. In the mean-time the player should withdraw his legs from behind the drawer, as he will not so easily effect this movement after the drawer has been pushed in. Here let us pause awhile, and compare the real state of the chest at this time, with the impression which, at a similar period of an exhibition of the Chess Player, has generally been left on the minds of the spectators; the bulk of whom have concluded that each part of the chest had been successively exposed; and that the whole was at that time open to inspection: whereas, on the contrary, it is evident that some parts had been entirely withheld from view, others but obscurely shewn, and that nearly half of the chest was then excluded from their sight. Hence we learn how easily, in matters of this sort, the judgment may be led astray by an artful combination of circumstances, each assisting the other towards the attainment of one object. When the doors in front have been closed, the exhibiter may occupy as much time, as he finds necessary, in apparently adjusting the machinery at the back, whilst the player is taking the position described in figs. 7 and 8. In this position he will find no difficulty in executing every movement required of the Automaton: his head being above the table, he will see the chess board through the waistcoat, as easily as through a veil; and his left hand extending beyond the elbow of the figure, he will be enabled to guide its hand to any part of the board, and to take up and let go a chess man with no other “delicate mechanism” than a string communicating with the fingers. His right hand being within the chest, may serve to keep in motion the contrivance for producing the noise, which is heard during the moves, and to perform the other tricks of moving the head, tapping on the chest, &c. In order to facilitate the introduction of the player’s left arm into the arm of the figure, the elbow of the latter is obliged to be drawn backwards; and to account for, and conceal, this strained attitude, a pipe is ingeniously placed in the Automaton’s hand. This pipe must not be removed till the other arrangements are completed. When all is ready, and the pipe removed, the exhibiter may turn round the winder, or key, to give the impression to the spectators of winding up a spring, or weight, and to serve as a signal to the player to set the head of the Automaton in motion. The above process is simple, feasible, and effective; shewing indisputably that the phenomena may be produced without the aid of machinery, and thereby rendering it probable that the Chess Player belongs in reality to the third class of Automata, and derives its merit solely from the very ingenious mode by which the concealment of a living agent is effected. In conducting this analysis, the author disclaims even the slightest wish or intention to depreciate, or detract from, the real merits of Mr. De Kempelen: those merits have long since received the stamp of public approbation; indeed, a more than ordinary share of skill and ingenuity must have fallen to his lot, who could imagine and execute a machine (it matters not by what means the phenomena are brought about) which has never failed to delight the spectators, by exciting and maintaining, above all other contrivances of the kind, that pleasing delusion in the mind, which the Roman poet has so happily denominated “_Mentis gratissimus error_.” _December, 1820._ EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. PLATE I. Fig. 1. A perspective view of the Automaton, seen in front, with all the doors thrown open. Fig. 2. An elevation of the back of the Automaton. PLATE II. Fig. 3. An elevation of the front of the chest, the dotted lines representing the player in the first position. Fig. 4. A side elevation, shewing the player in the same position. PLATE III. Fig. 5. A front elevation, shewing the second position. Fig. 6. An horizontal section through the line WW. fig. 5. PLATE IV. Fig. 7. A front elevation, shewing the third position. Fig. 8. A side elevation of the same position. PLATE V. Fig. 9. A vertical section through the line XX, fig. 8. Fig. 10. A vertical section through the line YY, fig. 7, shewing the false back closed. Fig. 11. A similar section, shewing the false back raised. THE FOLLOWING LETTERS OF REFERENCE ARE EMPLOYED IN ALL THE PLATES. A Front door of the small cupboard. B Back door of ditto. CC Front doors of the large cupboard. D Back door of ditto. E Door in the trunk. F Door in the thigh. GG The drawer. H Machinery in front of the small cupboard. I Screen behind the machinery. K Opening caused by the removal of part of the floor of the small cupboard. L A box which serves to conceal an opening in the floor of the large cupboard, made to facilitate the first position; and which also serves as a seat for the player in the third position. M A similar box to receive the toes of the player in the first position. N The inner chest, filling up part of the trunk. O The space behind the drawer. PQ The false back, turning on a joint at Q. R Part of the partition formed of cloth stretched tight, which is carried up by the false back, to form the opening between the chambers. S The opening between the chambers. T The opening connecting the trunk and chest, which is partly concealed by the false back. U Panel which is slipped aside to admit the player. [Illustration: _Plate 2. Fig. 3._] [Illustration: _Fig. 4._ _Drawn on Stone by the Author. Printed by C. Hullmandel_.] [Illustration: _Plate 3. Fig. 5._] [Illustration: _Fig. 6._ _Drawn on Stone by the Author. Printed by C. Hullmandel._] [Illustration: _Plate 4. Fig. 7._] [Illustration: _Fig. 8._ _Drawn on Stone by the Author. Printed by C. Hullmandel._] [Illustration: _Plate 5. Fig. 9._] [Illustration: _Fig. 10._] [Illustration:_Fig. 11._ _Drawn on Stone by the Author. Printed by C. Hullmandel._] APPENDIX. The Knight’s move over the chess board has engaged the attention of so many scientific men, that I cannot doubt that a collection of different solutions of the problem will prove acceptable to all admirers of chess. The Knight’s path is of two kinds—terminable and interminable—it is interminable, whenever the last, or concluding, move of a series be made on a square, which lies within the Knight’s reach of that from which he originally set out—and terminable in every other instance. Euler published a paper in the Memoirs of the Academy of Berlin, 1759, which contains a method of filling up all the squares, setting out from one of the corners. It also contains an endless or interminable route; and explains a principle by which these routes may be varied so as to end upon any square. Montmort, Demoivre, and Mairan, have severally given solutions of the same problem. These solutions will be found in the following collection. Observing that the Automaton, under the direction of Mr. Maelzel, occasionally traversed half the board, I was induced to pursue the subject, and I found that the move might be performed on any _parallelogram_ consisting of _twelve_ squares and upwards, with the exception of _fifteen_ and _eighteen_ squares. The whole board admits of a great variety both in the terminable and interminable routes. In describing the Knight’s path, I have preferred lines to figures; the former giving a clearer idea of the plan pursued, and affording a greater facility of comparing one route with another, than the latter. DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES. _Plate_ 1 _to face the Title._ _Plates_ 2 _to_ 5 — _Page_ 36. —— 6 _to_ 10 —— 38. [Illustration: _Plate 6._] [Illustration: _Plate 7._] [Illustration: _Plate 8._] [Illustration: _Plate 9._] [Illustration: _Plate 10._] LIST OF THE KNIGHT’S MOVES Contained in Plates 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. _Methods of performing the Move on Parallelograms less than the whole Board._ No. 1 the Move on 12 Squares — 2 - - - 20 - — 3 - - - 25 - — 4 - - - 21 - — 5 - - - 24 - — 6 - - - 24 - — 7 - - - 30 - — 8 - - - 36 - — 9 - - - 28 - — 10 - - - 32 - — 11 - - - 35 - — 12 - - - 40 - — 13 - - - 42 - — 14 - - - 48 - — 15 - - - 49 - — 16 - - - 56 - — 17 an Interminable Route on 48 Squares — 18 Do. Do. 56 - _Terminable Routes over the whole Board._ No. 20 By Euler — 21 - Do. — 22 - Do. — 23 - Do. — 24 By Demoivre — 25 - Do. — 26 By Mairan — 27 By Montmort — 28 By the Author — 29 - Do. _Interminable Routes over the whole Board._ No. 30 By Euler — 31 By Mons. W. — 32 By the Author — 33 - Do. — 34 - Do. — 35 - Do. — 36 - Do. — 37 - Do. — 38 - Do. — 39 - Do. HOWLETT AND BRIMMER, Printers, 10, Frith Street, Soho.

An Attempt to Analyse the Automaton Chess Player of Mr. De Kempelen: To Which is Added, a Copious Collection of the Knight's Moves over the Chess Board

Willis, Robert

1800

1875

['en']

45

{'Automaton chess players', 'Kempelen, Wolfgang von, 1734-1804'}

PG61410

Text

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By Charles Homer Haskins, Ph.D., Litt.D., LL.D., Gurney Professor of History and Political Science in Harvard University. 8vo. $3.50 net. XXV. Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy. By Charles Wendell David, Ph.D., Associate Professor of European History in Bryn Mawr College. 8vo. HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS CAMBRIDGE, MASS., U. S. A. [Illustration: ROBERTUS DUX NORMANNORUM PARTUM PROSTERNIT Robert Curthose in the act of unhorsing a pagan warrior, the oldest graphic representation of the duke now extant. From an eighteenth century engraving of a medallion in a stained-glass window at Saint-Denis, which was executed at the order of Abbot Suger. The church was dedicated 11 June 1144, and the window must date from about that period.] ROBERT CURTHOSE DUKE OF NORMANDY BY CHARLES WENDELL DAVID ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF EUROPEAN HISTORY IN BRYN MAWR COLLEGE [Illustration] CAMBRIDGE HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 1920 COPYRIGHT, 1920 HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS TO MY WIFE PREFACE Robert Curthose, eldest son of William the Conqueror, had been dead but a few years when Abbot Suger set about rebuilding the great abbey church of Saint-Denis, which was dedicated with such pomp and ceremony in 1144. Among the scenes from the First Crusade which filled one of its famous stained-glass windows, there was one which portrayed Robert, mounted upon his charger, in the act of overthrowing a pagan warrior—“Robertus dux Normannorum Partum prosternit,” ran the inscription beneath it.[1] It was thus, as a hero of the Crusade, that the great Abbot Suger chose to recall him, and it was as such that his fame survived in after times. Robert was not a masterful character, and it cannot be said that as a ruler he made a deep impression upon his generation. Overshadowed by his great father, cheated of a kingdom by his more aggressive brothers, and finally defeated in battle, deprived of his duchy, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment, his misdirected life offers a melancholy contrast to the more brilliant careers of the abler members of his family. Yet, if he was himself lacking in greatness, he was closely associated with great names and great events; and his unmeasured generosity and irrepressible bonhomie gained him many friends in his lifetime, and made him a personality which is not without its attractions to the modern. It is hoped that a study of his career which attempts to set him in his true relation to the history of Normandy and England and of the Crusade may be of interest not only to the specialist but to the general reader. It is now more than a generation since Gaston Le Hardy published _Le dernier des ducs normands: étude de critique historique sur Robert Courte-Heuse_ (1882), the only monograph upon Robert which has hitherto appeared. In spite of its age, if this were the critical study which its title implies, the present essay need hardly have been undertaken. But it makes no use of documentary materials, and is unfortunately a work of violent _parti pris_, quite lacking in criticism according to modern standards. “J’ ai entrepris,” says the author in his preface, “à l’aide de quelques autres chroniqueurs, une lutte contre notre vieil Orderic Vital, essayant de lui arracher par lambeaux la vérité vraie sur un personnage dont il ne nous a donné que la caricature.” It may be granted that Ordericus Vitalis was a hostile critic, who sometimes did Robert scanty justice; but assuredly there is no occasion for polemics or for an _apologia_ such as Le Hardy has given us, and I have no intention of following in his footsteps. My purpose is a more modest one, namely to set forth a full and true account of the life and character of Robert Curthose upon the basis of an independent and critical examination of all the sources. To any one acquainted with the state of the materials on which the investigator must perforce depend for any study of the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries, it will not be surprising that there are many gaps in our information concerning Robert’s life and many problems which must remain unsolved. I have tried at all times to make my own researches and to draw my own conclusions directly from the sources when the evidence permitted, and to refrain from drawing conclusions when it seemed inadequate. But my indebtedness to the secondary writers who have preceded me in the field is abundantly apparent in the index and in the footnotes, where full acknowledgments are made. The works of E. A. Freeman upon the Norman Conquest and upon the reign of William Rufus have proved especially helpful for Robert’s life as a whole, as have also various more recent monographs which bear upon his career at certain points. Among these are the works of Louis Halphen upon the county of Anjou, of Robert Latouche upon Maine, and of Augustin Fliche upon the reign of Philip I of France. For the chapter on the Crusade much use has been made of the detailed chronology of Heinrich Hagenmeyer and of the exhaustive notes in his well known editions of the sources for the First Crusade, as well as of the admirable monograph by Ferdinand Chalandon upon the reign of the Emperor Alexius I. The appendix _De Iniusta Vexatione Willelmi Episcopi Primi_ has already been published in the _English Historical Review_, and is here reproduced by the kind permission of the editor. It is more than a pleasure to acknowledge my obligations to those whose counsel and assistance have been constantly at my disposal in the preparation of this volume. By the librarians and their staffs in the libraries of Harvard University, the University of California, the University of Pennsylvania, and Bryn Mawr College I have been treated with a courtesy and helpfulness which are beyond praise. Mr. George W. Robinson, Secretary of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences of Harvard University, has given me much valuable assistance in preparing the manuscript for the press and in the correction of the proof. Finally, I have to acknowledge a debt of gratitude which is deeper than can well be expressed in writing, that which I owe to my teachers. It was Professor Dana C. Munro, now of Princeton University, who first taught me to care greatly for the Middle Ages and awakened my interest in the Crusades. He has followed this volume with kindly interest while it has been in the making, and has given me much helpful criticism upon that part which relates to the First Crusade. But above all I am indebted to Professor Charles H. Haskins of Harvard University, at whose suggestion this work was first undertaken and without whose help and counsel it could hardly have been brought to completion. While the author must accept full responsibility for the statements and conclusions herein contained, it is proper to say that the documentary materials which Professor Haskins had collected, as well as the results of his own researches, were placed at my disposal in manuscript before their publication in his recent volume entitled _Norman Institutions_, that separate chapters as they have been prepared have passed through his hands for detailed criticism, and that his unfailing patience has extended even to the reading of the proof sheets. CHARLES WENDELL DAVID. BRYN MAWR, PENNSYLVANIA, September, 1919. FOOTNOTES [1] See Frontispiece and Appendix G. CONTENTS PAGE CHAPTER I YOUTH 3-16 Parentage and birth 4 Tutors and education 6 Initiation into politics 7 Official position under the Conqueror 10 Bright promise of Robert’s youth 15 CHAPTER II REBELLION AND EXILE 17-41 Robert’s character and personal appearance 17 First rebellion and exile 18 Gerberoy 25 Robert in the active service of the king 31 Second rebellion and exile 36 Death of the Conqueror 39 CHAPTER III INDEPENDENT RULE, 1087-95 42-88 Robert’s accession to the duchy 42 Unsuccessful attempt to gain the English crown 44 William Rufus against Robert Curthose 53 Robert and William as allies 60 The loss of Maine 69 Weakness and failure of Robert’s government 75 Renewed war with William Rufus 83 CHAPTER IV THE CRUSADE 89-119 Introduction 89 The Crusade launched in Normandy 90 Preparations for the Crusade 92 From Normandy to Nicaea 96 From Nicaea to Antioch 102 Antioch, 1097-98 104 The advance upon Jerusalem 108 The capture of Jerusalem 112 The battle of Ascalon 115 Robert’s return from Jerusalem to Italy 117 Estimate of Robert as a crusader 118 CHAPTER V FAILURE TO GAIN THE ENGLISH CROWN 120-137 Death of William Rufus and accession of Henry I 120 Robert’s return from the Crusade 123 The end of Norman rule in Maine 125 Conspiracy to gain the English crown 127 Norman invasion of England 130 The treaty of Alton, 1101 134 CHAPTER VI THE LOSS OF NORMANDY 138-176 Sequel to the treaty of Alton 138 Robert Curthose and Robert of Bellême 141 Private war in Normandy and intervention of Henry I 144 Robert and the church 150 Preparations of Henry I for the conquest of Normandy 155 English invasion of Normandy, 1105 161 The campaign of Tinchebray, 1106 171 CHAPTER VII LAST YEARS AND DEATH 177-189 Settlement of Normandy after Tinchebray 177 Disposal of the captives 179 William Clito, last hope of a lost cause 180 Robert’s vicissitudes in captivity 186 Death of Robert Curthose 189 CHAPTER VIII ROBERT CURTHOSE IN LEGEND 190-202 Early growth of legends concerning Robert 190 His legendary exploits on the Crusade 193 His refusal of the crown of Jerusalem 197 Legends connected with his long imprisonment 200 The tale of the scarlet robe 201 APPENDICES A. NOTE ON THE SOURCES 205-210 B. _DE INIUSTA VEXATIONE WILLELMI EPISCOPI PRIMI_ 211-216 C. ARNULF OF CHOCQUES, CHAPLAIN OF ROBERT CURTHOSE 217-220 D. ROBERT’S COMPANIONS ON THE CRUSADE 221-229 E. LAODICEA AND THE FIRST CRUSADE 230-244 F. THE BATTLE OF TINCHEBRAY 245-248 G. THE ROBERT MEDALLION IN SUGER’S STAINED-GLASS WINDOW AT SAINT-DENIS 249-252 INDEX 253-271 LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS _Actus Pontificum_ _Actus Pontificum Cenomannis in Urbe degentium_, ed. G. Busson and A. Ledru. Le Mans, 1902. _A.-S. C._ _The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, ed. Charles Plummer, under the title _Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel_. 2 vols. Oxford, 1892-99. Davis, _Regesta_ H. W. C. Davis, _Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum_, i (1066-1100). Oxford, 1913. _E. H. R._ _English Historical Review._ London, 1886-. _G. F._ _Anonymi Gesta Francorum et Aliorum Hierosolymitanorum_, ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer. Heidelberg, 1890. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_ Heinrich Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie de la première croisade (1094-1100)_. Paris, 1902. Also in _Revue de l’Orient latin_, vi-viii (1898-1901). Haskins Charles H. Haskins, _Norman Institutions_. Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1918. _Harvard Historical Studies_, xxiv. _H. C. A._ _Recueil des historiens des croisades._ Publié pas les soins de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres. _Documents arméniens._ 2 vols. Paris, 1869-1906. _H. C. G._ _The same._ _Historiens grecs._ 2 vols. Paris, 1875-81. _H. C. Oc._ _The same._ _Historiens occidentaux._ 5 vols. Paris, 1841-95. _H. C. Or._ _The same._ _Historiens orientaux._ 5 vols. Paris, 1872-1906. _H. F._ _Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France_, ed. Martin Bouquet and others. 24 vols. Paris, 1738-1904. _Kreuzzugsbriefe_ _Die Kreuzzugsbriefe aus den Jahren 1088-1100: Eine Quellensammlung zur Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges_, ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer. Innsbruck, 1901. Le Hardy Gaston Le Hardy, _Le dernier des ducs normands: Étude de critique historique sur Robert Courte-Heuse_, in _Bulletin de la Société des Antiquaires de Normandie_, x (Caen, 1882), pp. 3-184. _M. G. H._ _Monumenta Germaniae Historica._ Hanover, etc., 1826-. Migne _Patrologiae Cursus Completus_, ed. J. P. Migne. Series Latina. 221 vols. Paris, 1844-64. Ordericus Ordericus Vitalis, _Historiae Ecclesiasticae Libri Tredecim_, ed. Auguste Le Prévost. 5 vols. Paris, 1838-55. Round, _C. D. F._ J. H. Round, _Calendar of Documents preserved in France illustrative of the History of Great Britain and Ireland_, i (918-1206). London, 1899 (_Calendars of State Papers_). Simeon, _H. D. E._ Simeon of Durham, _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_, in his _Opera Omnia_, ed. Thomas Arnold, i. London, 1882. Simeon, _H. R._ Idem, _Historia Regum_, _ibid._, ii. London, 1885. William of Jumièges William of Jumièges, _Gesta Normannorum Ducum_, ed. Jean Marx. Paris, 1914. William of Malmesbury, _G. P._ William of Malmesbury, _De Gestis Pontificum Anglorum Libri Quinque_, ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton. London, 1870. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._ Idem, _De Gestis Regum Anglorum Libri Quinque_, ed. William Stubbs. 2 vols. London, 1887-89. [Illustration: Northwestern France and southern England with principal places referred to in text] ROBERT CURTHOSE CHAPTER I YOUTH William of Malmesbury, in his well known sketch of the life and character of Robert Curthose,[1] relates an interesting episode. He tells us that Robert, in the heat of youth, and spurred on by the fatuous counsels of his companions, went to his father, William the Conqueror, and demanded that the rule of Normandy be forthwith given over into his hands. William not only refused the rash request, but drove the lad away with the thunders of his terrific voice; whereupon Robert withdrew in a rage and began to pillage the countryside. At first the Conqueror was only convulsed with laughter at these youthful escapades, and said, emphasizing his words with a favorite oath: “By the resurrection of God! This little Robert Curthose will be a brave fellow.”[2] Robert Curthose or ‘Short-Boots’ (_Curta Ocrea_), this was the curious nickname which his father had given him on account of his diminutive stature.[3] The name seemed appropriate and was taken up by the people. In time, however, William of Malmesbury goes on to explain, Robert’s acts of insubordination became far more serious, and ended by provoking the Conqueror to a truly Norman burst of wrath, a curse, and disinheritance.[4] But all this is a matter which must be deferred for later consideration. Whether the episode just recounted be fact or legend,[5] the chronicler in his hurried sketch has, in any event, drawn the picture of an undutiful, graceless son, often harassing his father with wild acts of insubordination. This, too, is the impression which is to be gathered from a cursory reading of Ordericus Vitalis, by far the most voluminous contemporary writer upon the life and character of Robert Curthose, and it is the impression which has been preserved in the histories of later times.[6] A more careful reading of the sources may, however, lead to a somewhat different view of the character of the Norman duke who forms the subject of the present essay. It must be owned at the outset, however, that the sources, especially for Robert’s youth, are exceedingly meagre and fragmentary, and only a few details can be pieced together. The date of Robert’s birth is nowhere stated by contemporary writers. We know that he was the firstborn child of William the Bastard, duke of Normandy, and of his wife Matilda, daughter of Count Baldwin V of Flanders.[7] But the date of the marriage of William and Matilda is also a matter of much uncertainty. It has been generally assigned by modern writers, but without any early authority, to the year 1053.[8] It certainly took place after October 1049, for in that year we find Pope Leo IX and the council of Rheims forbidding it as an act then in contemplation.[9] It certainly had been performed in defiance of ecclesiastical authority by 1053, the year in which Countess Matilda first appears beside her husband among the witnesses of extant legal documents.[10] So, too, Robert’s birth has been assigned by modern writers to _circa_ 1054,[11] but this again is conjectural and rests upon no early authority. Our knowledge of Robert’s later career makes it seem improbable that he was born later than 1054 and suggests the possibility that he may have been born a little earlier.[12] Though the evidence is meagre and fragmentary, it is clear that William and Matilda were by no means careless about the education of their eldest son and prospective heir. In an early charter we meet with a certain “Raherius consiliarius infantis” and a “Tetboldus gramaticus.”[13] And among the witnesses of a charter by the youthful Robert himself—the earliest that we have of his—dated at Rouen in 1066, appears one “Hilgerius pedagogus Roberti filii comitis.”[14] Not improbably this is the same Ilger who, in April of the following year, attested a charter by William the Conqueror at Vaudreuil.[15] Robert, therefore, had tutors, or ‘counsellors’, who were charged with his education, and who formed part of the ducal entourage and made their way into the documents of the period. That these educational efforts were not wholly vain, there is some reason to believe. Robert has not, like his youngest brother, Henry, received the flattering title of Beauclerc, and there is no direct evidence that he knew Latin. Yet some notable accomplishments he did have. Not to mention his affable manners, he was famed for his fluency of speech, or ‘eloquence’, especially in his native tongue.[16] And if towards the close of his unfortunate life he became the author, as has been supposed, of an extant poem in the Welsh language,[17] it may perhaps be allowed that in his youth he had acquired at least a taste and capacity for things literary.[18] The hopes of William and Matilda were early centred upon their oldest son, and his initiation into the politics of his ambitious father was not long delayed. As the result of a revolution at Le Mans, the youthful Count Herbert II with his mother and his sister Margaret had been driven into exile, and the direct rule of Geoffrey Martel, count of Anjou, had been established in Maine.[19] William of Normandy, ever jealous of Angevin expansion, was not slow to realize what his policy should be in the light of these events. By giving support to the exiles he might hope to curb the ambition of Geoffrey Martel and to extend Norman influence, conceivably Norman domination, over Maine. Accordingly, at an undetermined date between 1055 and 1060—probably between 1058 and 1060[20]—he entered into a treaty of far-reaching significance with the exiled count. Herbert formally became Duke William’s vassal for the county of Maine, and agreed that, if he should die childless, the duke should succeed him in all his rights and possessions. And further, a double marriage alliance was arranged, according to which William promised the count one of his infant daughters, and Robert Curthose was affianced to Herbert’s sister, Margaret of Maine.[21] Thus Robert, while still a mere child, was made a pawn in the ambitious game which his father was playing for the possession of a coveted county. Margaret, too, was young; but the duke brought her to Normandy, and, placing her in the ward of Stigand de Mézidon, made due provision for her honorable rearing until the children should arrive at an age suitable for marriage.[22] Meanwhile, fortune set strongly in Duke William’s favor in Maine. Charters indicate that Herbert had made at least a partial recovery of his authority in the county[23]—through the assistance, it may be presumed, of his powerful Norman overlord. On 9 March 1062[24] Count Herbert died childless, and under the terms of the recent treaty the county should have passed immediately into the hands of Duke William. But the Manceaux, or at least an Angevin or anti-Norman party among them, had no disposition to submit themselves to the ‘Norman yoke’; and within a year after Count Herbert’s death they rose in revolt.[25] They chose as Count Herbert’s successor Walter of Mantes, count of the Vexin, a bitter enemy of the Normans, who had a claim upon Maine through his wife Biota, a daughter of Herbert Éveille-Chien.[26] They also obtained the aid of Geoffrey le Barbu, who had succeeded to the county of Anjou upon the death of Geoffrey Martel in 1060.[27] Thus they were able to offer formidable opposition to Norman aggression. But Duke William was determined not to let slip so good an opportunity of extending his dominion over Maine, and he took up the challenge with his accustomed vigor. A single campaign sufficed to accomplish his purpose. Walter of the Vexin and Biota, his wife, were taken and imprisoned at Falaise; and soon after they died—it is reported, as the result of poisoning.[28] The Manceaux were quickly defeated and reduced to submission, and Duke William entered Le Mans in triumph.[29] With Geoffrey le Barbu, however, William decided to make terms. The provisions of the treaty which was concluded between them have not been preserved; but, in any case, it is clear that Duke William recognized the Angevin suzerainty over Maine.[30] Doubtless this seemed to him the most effective way of consolidating his conquest and throwing over it the mantle of legality by which he always set such great store.[31] At a formal ceremony in the duke’s presence at Alençon, Robert Curthose and Margaret of Maine, his fiancée, were made to do homage and swear fealty to Geoffrey le Barbu for the inheritance of Count Herbert.[32] This feudal ceremony at Alençon gave formal legal sanction to Robert’s position as count of Maine. Yet he was still a mere child, and Duke William clearly had no intention of actually setting him to rule the newly acquired territory. He could have had no hand in the warfare by which it had been won, and to impose a foreign yoke upon the Manceaux in the face of the ardent spirit of local patriotism was a task for stronger hands than his. Robert’s countship, for the time being at any rate, remained a purely formal one, and Duke William with the assistance of Norman administrators and a Norman garrison kept the government of the county in his own hands.[33] Nevertheless, the new legal status to which the young prince had been raised found at least occasional recognition in the documents of the period. In several early charters we meet with his attestation as count of Maine,[34] and one document of the year 1076 indicates that at that time he was regarded as an independent ruler of the county.[35] Meanwhile, if he had grown to feel any affection for his prospective bride, the beautiful Countess Margaret,[36] his hopes were doomed to early disappointment; for, before either of the children had reached a marriageable age, Margaret died at Fécamp, and was buried there in the monastery of La Trinité.[37] This, however, did not mean that the Norman plans with regard to Maine had seriously miscarried. Duke William continued to maintain his hold upon the county; and Robert continued to be called count[38] and to be designated as his father’s heir and successor in the government. Indeed, the assigning of the countship of Maine to Robert was but part of a general plan which embraced all of Duke William’s dominions, and under which Robert was early marked out as his successor designate for the whole. In a charter of 29 June 1063—contemporary, therefore, with the Norman conquest of Maine[39]—the young prince appears after his parents with the following significant designation: “Roberti, eorum filii, quem elegerant ad gubernandum regnum post suum obitum.”[40] Clearly at this early date Robert had already been definitely chosen as the successor to his father’s rule. With Duke William still in the prime vigor of manhood, and menaced by no particular dangers, such a provision seemed to have no great immediate importance. But with the death of Edward the Confessor and the inception of the ambitious plan for the Norman conquest of England, Duke William’s future took on a far more uncertain aspect. Great and careful though the preparations were, almost anything might happen in such an enterprise. It was a grave moment for men with Norman interests as the duke stood upon the threshold of his great adventure. The prudent abbot of Marmoutier hastened to obtain from the youthful Robert a confirmation of all the gifts which his father had made to the abbey.[41] Duke William, too, felt the uncertainties of the hour and made careful provision against all eventualities. Summoning the great nobles around him, he solemnly proclaimed Robert his heir and successor, and had the barons do homage and swear fealty to him as their lord.[42] Unless the sources are misleading, King Philip of France, Duke William’s overlord, was present and gave his consent to the action.[43] Robert, however, was evidently still too young and inexperienced to be entrusted with the actual administration of the duchy at such a critical moment; and the government during the duke’s absence on the Conquest was placed in the hands of Countess Matilda and a council of regents.[44] But when in December 1067, after the successful launching of his great enterprise, the Conqueror found it necessary to go a second time to England, Robert was called to higher honors and responsibilities, and was definitely associated with his mother in the regency.[45] From this same year he begins to appear in occasional charters as ‘count of the Normans’;[46] and when in the following year Matilda was called to England for her coronation, there is some reason to believe that he was charged with full responsibility for the administration of Normandy.[47] Whether this implied a like responsibility for the government of Maine is not clear. If it did, Robert certainly proved unequal to the task of maintaining Norman dominion in that turbulent county. Norman rule had from the beginning been unpopular in Maine. The citizens of Le Mans were alert and rebellious, and Duke William’s preoccupation with the conquest of England offered them a unique opportunity to strike a blow for independence. Accordingly, in 1069, they rose in revolt[48] and overthrew the Norman domination more quickly even than it had been established by Duke William in 1063. During the following three years Maine passed through a turbulent era, which—interesting as it is for both local and general history—hardly concerns the life of Robert Curthose; since, so far as can be discovered, no effort was made during that period to reëstablish Norman authority in the county. The collapse of the Norman rule had been as complete as it was sudden. By the spring of 1073, however, King William had returned to the Continent and was in a position to turn his attention to the reconquest of Maine. Assembling a great army composed of both Normans and English, he marched into the county, reduced Fresnay, Beaumont, and Sillé in quick succession, and arrived before Le Mans, which surrendered without a siege.[49] The authority of the Conqueror, perhaps we may even say the authority of Robert Curthose,[50] was fully reëstablished. The sources are silent as to the part which Robert played in these events or in the struggles of the succeeding years by which the Conqueror maintained the Norman domination in the face of the jealous opposition of Fulk le Réchin, count of Anjou.[51] Robert certainly continued to enjoy the formal dignity of count of Maine.[52] Indeed, a charter of 25 August 1076 seems to indicate that he was at that time regarded as an independent ruler at Le Mans.[53] Meanwhile, the Conqueror took occasion to reaffirm his intentions regarding the succession to his dominions. At some time after the conquest of England but before the outbreak of his unfortunate quarrels with his eldest son, he fell dangerously sick at Bonneville; and, fearing for his life, he summoned the barons around him, as he had done previously upon the eve of the Norman Conquest, and had them renew their homage and pledge of fealty to Robert as their lord.[54] Again Robert Curthose was formally designated as the heir of all his father’s dominions. If, therefore, one looks back upon Robert’s life from about the year 1077, far from feeling surprise at the slowness of his development or at the lateness of his initiation into political and government affairs, one must rather wonder at the early age at which he became a pawn in the great game of politics, war, and diplomacy which his father was playing so shrewdly, and at the rapidity with which at least minor responsibilities were thrust upon him. Affianced to the prospective heiress of the county of Maine when little more than an infant, he was designated as his father’s heir and successor while still a mere child, and began to give his formal attestation to legal documents at about the same period. At the age of twelve, or thereabouts, he received the homage of the Norman barons as their lord and prospective ruler, and soon after was associated with his mother in the regency during the king’s absence from the duchy. Down to the year 1077, there is no evidence of quarrels or disagreement between the Conqueror and his eldest son.[55] Indeed, the proof seems almost conclusive that there were no such quarrels until a relatively late date. Not only do the narrative sources upon careful analysis yield no evidence of disobedience or rebellion upon Robert’s part, but positive documentary evidence points strongly in the opposite direction. A series of charters scattered from 1063 to 1077 reveals Robert on repeated occasions in close association with his parents and his brothers, occupying an honored position, and attesting legal acts[56] almost as frequently as the queen, more frequently than his brothers. That the family harmony was not disturbed by domestic discord as late as the autumn of 1077 there is good reason to believe. For, in that year, Robert joined with his parents and his younger brother William in the imposing dedication ceremonies of Bishop Odo’s great cathedral church at Bayeux,[57] and again, 13 September, in the dedication of the abbey church of the Conqueror’s foundation in honor of St. Stephen at Caen.[58] FOOTNOTES [1] _G. R._, ii, pp. 459-463. [2] “Per resurrectionem Dei! probus erit Robelinus Curta Ocrea.” _Ibid._, pp. 459-460. [3] _Ibid._, p. 460; Ordericus, iii, p. 262: “corpore autem brevis et grossus, ideoque Brevis Ocrea a patre est cognominatus”; _ibid._, iv, p. 16: “Curta Ocrea iocose cognominatus est.” In another passage (ii, p. 295) Ordericus mentions _Gambaron_ (from _jambes_ or _gambes rondes_) as another popular nickname: “corpore pingui, brevique statura, unde vulgo Gambaron cognominatus est, et Brevis Ocrea.” In still another place he calls him ‘Robertus Ignavus.’ _Interpolations d’Orderic Vital_, in William of Jumièges, p. 193. [4] _G. R._, ii, p. 460. [5] It seems to be a sort of an epitome, moved forward somewhat in Robert’s career, of his rebellious course between 1078 and the death of the Conqueror. [6] Cf. Auguste Le Prévost, in Ordericus, ii, p. 377, n. 1; E. A. Freeman, _History of the Norman Conquest_ (2d ed., Oxford, 1870-76), iv, pp. 638-646 _et passim_. The defence of Robert by Le Hardy is rather zealous than critical, and has not achieved its purpose. [7] Ordericus, ii, p. 294: “Robertum primogenitam sobolem suam.” In the numerous lists of William and Matilda’s children Robert always appears first: see, e.g., Ordericus, ii, pp. 93, 188; iii, p. 159; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 251. [8] E.g., Thomas Stapleton, in _The Archaeological Journal_, iii (1846), pp. 20-21; Le Prévost, in Ordericus, v, p. 18, n. 1; Freeman, in _E. H. R._, iii (1888), pp. 680-681, and _Norman Conquest_, iii, pp. 660-661. Stapleton, Le Prévost, and Freeman all cite the Tours chronicle (_H. F._, xi, p. 348) as authority for the date. But in point of fact the Tours chronicle gives no such date; and so far as it may be said to give any date at all, it seems to assign the marriage to 1056. Stapleton suggests in favor of 1053 that the imprisonment of Leo IX by the Normans in that year may have emboldened the interested parties to a defiance of the ecclesiastical prohibition. [9] “Interdixit et Balduino comiti Flandrensi, ne filiam suam Wilielmo Nortmanno nuptui daret; et illi, ne earn acciperet.” _Sacrorum Conciliorum Nova et Amplissima Collectio_, ed. G. D. Mansi and others (Venice, etc., 1759-), xix, col. 742. [10] _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de la Sainte-Trinité du Mont de Rouen_, ed. Achille Deville, no. 37, in _Collection de cartulaires de France_ (Paris, 1840: _Documents Inédits_), iii, p. 441; _Chartes de Saint-Julien de Tours_, ed. J.-L. Denis (Le Mans, 1912), no. 24. Both these charters are dated 1053, and the attestations of Matilda seem incontestably contemporary. The Tours charter in addition to the incarnation has “regnante Henrico rege anno xxviii.” This is unusual and might raise a doubt, but it pretty clearly refers to the year 1053. No. 26 of the same collection similarly gives 1059 as the thirty-fourth year of King Henry. Both evidently reckon the reign as beginning from 1026, when Henry was probably designated heir to the throne a year before his actual coronation in 1027. Christian Pfister, _Études sur le règne de Robert le Pieux_ (Paris, 1885), pp. 76-77. This conclusion seems to be confirmed by a charter of 26 May in the thirtieth year of Robert the Pious (1026?) which Henry attests as king, according to Pfister, ‘by anticipation.’ _Ibid._, p. lxxxii, no. 78. But Frédéric Soehnée does not accept Pfister’s conclusion. _Catalogue des actes d’Henri Iᵉʳ, roi de France, 1031-1060_ (Paris, 1907), no. 10. The original is not extant. Ferdinand Lot has published two charters—both from originals—dated 1051, which bear attestations of Countess Matilda and of Robert ‘iuvenis comitis.’ The attestation of Robert Curthose will save one from any temptation to carry the marriage of William and Matilda back to 1051 on the evidence of these documents, for even though the marriage had taken place as early as 1049, it would clearly be impossible for Robert to attest a document in 1051. Lot explains, “Les souscriptions de Matilde … et de son fils aîné Robert ont été apposées après coup, et semblent autographes.” _Études critiques sur l’abbaye de Saint-Wandrille_ (Paris, 1913), nos. 30, 31, pp. 74-77. [11] Le Prévost, in Ordericus, v, p. 18, n. 1; Le Hardy, p. 9; Freeman, _Norman Conquest_, iv, p. 123, n. 3. [12] William of Malmesbury says of him in 1066 that “spectatae iam virtutis habebatur adolescens.” _G. R._, ii, p. 459. In a charter of confirmation by Robert dated 1066 he is described as old enough to give a voluntary confirmation: “quia scilicet maioris iam ille aetatis ad praebendum spontaneum auctoramentum idoneus esset.” _Cartulaire de Laval et de Vitré_, no. 30, in Arthur Bertrand de Broussillon, _La maison de Laval_ (Paris, 1895-1903), i, p. 45; cf. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 2. [13] _Cartulaire de la Trinité du Mont_, no. 60. According to Le Prévost it is of about the year 1060. Ordericus, v, p. 18, n. 1. [14] Round, _C. D. F._, no. 1173; Davis, _Regesta_, no. 2. Le Prévost (Ordericus, v, p. 18, n. 1) refers to an early charter by Duke William in favor of Saint-Ouen of Rouen, in which appears “Hilgerius magister pueri.” This is probably Cartulary of Saint-Ouen (28 _bis_), MS., p. 280, no. 345, and p. 233, no. 278, a charter of doubtful authenticity. [15] Davis, _Regesta_, no. 6a. [16] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 460: “nec infaceti eloquii … nec enervis erat consilii”; _ibid._, p. 463: “patria lingua facundus, ut sit iocundior nullus”, Ordericus Vitalis, who is less flattering, calls him ‘loquax,’ but he adds, “voce clara et libera, lingua diserta.” Ordericus, ii, p. 295. Cf. Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 666. [17] _Infra_, pp. 187-188. [18] If we could attach any importance to a speech which Ordericus puts into the mouth of Robert apropos of his quarrel with his father, the young prince would seem to have shared the opinion of many another headstrong youth about grammarians: “Huc, domine mi rex, non accessi pro sermonibus audiendis, quorum copia frequenter usque ad nauseam imbutus sum a grammaticis.” Ordericus, ii, p. 379. [19] On these events and their sequel see Robert Latouche, _Histoire du comté du Maine pendant le Xᵉ et le XIᵉ siècle_ (Paris, 1910), pp. 29 ff.; Louis Halphen, _Le comté d’Anjou au XIᵉ siècle_ (Paris, 1906), pp. 74-80, 178 ff. [20] Latouche shows that the treaty must be later than the election of Vougrin, bishop of Le Mans, 31 August 1055, and earlier than the death of Geoffrey Martel, 1060. He thinks it probably later than the battle of Varaville, 1058. _Maine_, p. 32, n. 5. [21] William of Poitiers, in _H. F._, xi, pp. 85, 86; Ordericus, ii, pp. 102, 252. The two sources are not in complete accord. Except at one point I have preferred the former as being the more strictly contemporary. William of Poitiers represents the betrothal of William and Margaret not as a part of the original treaty, but as a later arrangement made by Duke William after Herbert’s death in order to forestall a possible controversy as to Norman rights in Maine. But this marriage alliance looms so large in the narrative of Ordericus Vitalis that it seems hardly likely that it was a mere afterthought on Duke William’s part. Ordericus represents it as the fundamental provision of the treaty. According to his view it was through Margaret that Norman rights in Maine arose. He does not seem to realize that upon such reasoning they would also terminate with her death. For William of Poitiers, on the other hand, the fundamental provision of the treaty was the agreement that Duke William should be Count Herbert’s heir. This would give the duke permanent rights after Herbert’s death. It seems not unlikely that both provisions were included in the treaty and that Duke William regarded them both as important. At times he dealt with Maine as if of his own absolute right; at other times he put forward his son as bearer of the Norman rights. [22] Ordericus, ii, p. 104; William of Poitiers, in _H. F._, xi, p. 86. [23] Latouche, _Maine_, p. 146, nos. 32, 33. [24] _Ibid._, p. 33. [25] Latouche has shown that the date of the revolt falls between 9 March 1062 and 14 March 1063. _Maine_, p. 33, n. 4. The account of Ordericus Vitalis is confused, and the date (1064) which he gives is impossible. Ordericus, ii, pp. 101-103. The suit held before the ducal curia at Domfront, “cum Guillelmus, Normanniae comes, Cenomannicam urbem haberet adquisitam,” should probably be assigned to 1063 rather than to 1064. Bertrand de Broussillon, _Maison de Laval_, i, p. 41, no. 28. [26] Herbert Éveille-Chien was grandfather of Herbert II. Biota, therefore, was aunt of Margaret, Robert Curthose’s fiancée. The genealogy of the counts of Maine in the eleventh century has at last been disentangled by Latouche. _Maine_, pp. 113-115, appendix iii. F. M. Stenton, _William the Conqueror_ (New York, 1908), pp. 129 ff., and appendix, table d, is inaccurate. [27] Halphen, _Anjou_, pp. 137, 293-294, no. 171. Cf. Latouche, _Maine_, pp. 33-34. [28] Ordericus, ii, pp. 103, 259. William of Poitiers makes no mention of the poisoning. Halphen (_Anjou_, p. 179) and Latouche (_Maine_, p. 34, and n. 6) accept the account of Ordericus as true, the latter explaining that William of Poitiers, as a panegyrist, naturally passes over such an act in silence. Freeman, on the other hand, holds the story to be an unsubstantiated rumor, inconsistent with the character of William the Conqueror. _Norman Conquest_, iii, p. 208. [29] Cf. Latouche, _Maine_, pp. 34-35. The primary authorities are William of Poitiers, in _H. F._, xi, pp. 85-86, and Ordericus, ii, pp. 101-104. [30] It is the thesis of Latouche that “pendant tout le cours du XIᵉ [siècle] le comte du Maine s’était trouvé vis-à-vis de celui d’Anjou dans un état de vassalité,” and he points out that it was the policy of William the Conqueror and Robert Curthose to respect “le principe de la suzeraineté angevine.” _Maine_, pp. 54-56. [31] _Ibid._, p. 35. [32] Ordericus, ii, p. 253: “Guillelmus autem Normannorum princeps post mortem Herberti iuvenis haereditatem eius obtinuit, et Goisfredus comes Rodberto iuveni cum filia Herberti totum honorem concessit, et hominium debitamque fidelitatem ab illo in praesentia patris apud Alencionem recepit.” Ordericus is the sole authority for this homage; and his account of it is incidental to a brief resumé of the lives of the counts of Maine, and forms no part of his general narrative of William’s conquest of the county in 1063. The date of the homage, therefore, is conjectural. The revolt of the Manceaux took place soon after the death of Count Herbert; and since Geoffrey le Barbu supported the revolt, it seems natural to regard the homage as a final act in the general pacification, and to assign it to 1063. This is the view taken by Latouche (_Maine_, p. 35) as against Kate Norgate (_England under the Angevin Kings_, London, 1887, i, p. 217), who places the homage before the revolt. [33] Latouche, _Maine_, p. 34. [34] E.g., [before 1066] charter by Duke William establishing collegiate canons at Cherbourg (_Revue catholique de Normandie_, x, pp. 46-50); [before 1066] charter by Duke William in favor of Coutances cathedral (Round, _C. D. F._, no. 957); 1068 (indiction xiii by error for vi), confirmation by King William and by Robert of a charter in favor of La Couture, Le Mans (_Cartulaier des abbayes de Saint-Pierre de la Couture et de Saint-Pierre de Solesmes_, ed. the Benedictines of Solesmes, Le Mans, 1881, no. 15; cf. Latouche, _Maine_, p. 147, no. 35); 1074, charter by King William in favor of Bayeux cathedral (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 76). [35] A donation by Gradulf, a canon of Saint-Vincent of Le Mans, is dated as follows: “Igitur hec omnia facta sunt in Bellimensi Castro viiiᵒ kal. Septembris, currente xivᵃ indictione, et Philippo rege Francorum regnante Robertoque, Willelmi regis Anglorum filio, Cenomannicam urbem gubernante.” _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de Saint-Vincent du Mans_, ed. R. Charles and S. Menjot d’Elbenne (Le Mans, 1886), i, no. 589. [36] Ordericus Vitalis (ii, p. 104) describes her as “speciosam virginem”; William of Poitiers (_H. F._, xi, p. 86) is more lavish of praise: “Haec generosa virgo, nomine Margarita, insigni specie decentior fuit omni margarita.” [37] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268; William of Poitiers, in _H. F._, xi, p. 86; Ordericus, ii, p. 104. According to _Gallia Christiana_ (ed. the Benedictines of Saint-Maur and others, Paris, 1715-75, xi, col. 205) Margaret died 13 December 1060; but this is clearly an error, since after the death of Count Herbert II (9 March 1062) she joined with Robert Curthose in doing homage to Geoffrey le Barbu, and this act took place apparently in the year 1063. Ordericus, ii, p. 253; and cf. _supra_, n. 32. Latouche suggests that the editors of _Gallia Christiana_ have probably taken the day and the month from some obituary and are in error, therefore, only as to the year. _Maine_, p. 32, n. 6. It is probably only a desire for literary effect which leads William of Poitiers to say that Margaret was snatched away by death shortly before her proposed marriage: “Sed ipsam non longe ante diem quo mortali sponso iungeretur hominibus abstulit Virginis Filius.” Apparently at the time of her death Margaret had become a nun. Robert of Torigny states that she died a ‘virgo Christo devota’, and William of Poitiers says that she died practising great austerities and wearing a hair shirt. [38] _Supra_, n. 34. [39] _Supra_, n. 25. [40] Charter of Stigand de Mézidon, the same to whom Duke William had committed the wardship of Margaret of Maine, in favor of Saint-Ouen of Rouen. _Mémoires et notes de M. Auguste Le Prévost pour servir à l’histoire du département de l’Eure_, ed. Léopold Delisle and Louis Passy (Évreux, 1862-69), i, p. 562. [41] Round, _C. D. F._, no. 1173; Davis, _Regesta_, no. 2. The charter is dated at Rouen, 1066. [42] The date of the ceremony is uncertain. It can hardly have been as early as the charter of 1063 which is cited in n. 40 _supra._ It seems more likely to have been a measure taken in 1066 when the attack upon England was in contemplation. Thus Ordericus Vitalis (ii, p. 294) speaks of it somewhat vaguely as a measure taken “ante Senlacium,” and in another place (ii, p. 378) he makes Robert say to his father: “Normanniam … quam dudum, antequam contra Heraldum in Angliam transfretares, mihi concessisti”; and again (iii, p. 242) he makes the Conqueror on his deathbed use language of similar import: “Ducatum Normanniae, antequam in epitumo Senlac contra Heraldum certassem, Roberto filio meo concessi, quia primogenitus est. Hominium pene omnium huius patriae baronum iam recepit.” Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon ex Chronicis_, ed. Benjamin Thorpe (London, 1848-49), ii, p. 12: “Normanniam quam sibi ante adventum ipsius in Angliam, coram Philippo rege Francorum dederat.” Cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268. [43] The question as to the period and manner of this homage is complicated by the fact that the ceremony was repeated at an undetermined date after the Norman Conquest on the occasion of the king’s serious illness at Bonneville. The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1079) and Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 12) are the only sources which mention the assent of King Philip. From Florence it seems to be clear that this assent was given on the earlier occasion. [44] William of Poitiers, in _H. F._, xi, p. 103; Ordericus, ii, p. 178. According to the former the council was headed by Roger of Beaumont, according to the latter by Roger of Montgomery. [45] Ordericus, ii, pp. 177, 178. William of Jumièges (p. 139) makes no mention of Matilda or of the council of regents, but says that the duchy was committed to Robert: “Rodberto filio suo iuvenili flore vernanti Normannici ducatus dominium tradidit.” [46] E.g., 1067, April, Vaudreuil, charter by William I in favor of the monks of Saint-Benoît-sur-Loire (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 6a); 1082, June 24, Oissel, two confirmations by William I of grants in favor of Saint-Martin of Marmoutier (_ibid._, nos. 145, 146); [1079-82], confirmation by William I of a grant in favor of the abbey of Troarn (_ibid._, no. 172). Lot publishes two charters of 1051, in which Robert’s attestation as the ‘young count’ has been interpolated at some later date. See _supra_, n. 10. He also publishes a charter, “vers 1071,” in which appears “presente Rotberto comite.” _Saint-Wandrille_, no. 43, pp. 99-100. Lot supposes that this is Count Robert of Eu, but it is more probably Robert Curthose. See Haskins, p. 66, n. 18. There is no regular practice with regard to Robert’s title in documents during the Conqueror’s lifetime. Occasionally, as above noted, he is called ‘count of the Normans’; occasionally, as has been pointed out in an earlier note (_supra_, n. 34), he bears the title ‘count of Maine.’ Often he appears without title as ‘Robert the king’s son’ (Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 73, 92a, 126, 140, 165, 168, 171, 255); but generally he is called count (_ibid._, nos. 2, 30, 74, 75, 76, 96, 105, 114, 125, 127, 135, 145, 146, 147, 149, 150, 158, 169, 170, 172, 173, 175, 182, 183a, 199); and very frequently his designation is ‘Count Robert the king’s son’ (_ibid._, nos. 30, 74, 75, 105, 114, 125, 147, 149, 150, 158, 169, 170). [47] This appears to be the implication of Ordericus, ii, p. 188. [48] On the date see Latouche, _Maine_, p. 36, n. 1. On the revolt generally and its sequel see _ibid._, pp. 35-38; Halphen, _Anjou_, pp. 180-181; _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 376-381; Ordericus, ii, pp. 253-254. [49] _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 380-381; Ordericus, ii, pp. 254-255; Latouche, _Maine_, p. 38; Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 181. The campaign took place in 1073 (_A.-S. C., a._ 1073) before 30 March, as is shown by a confirmation by King William in favor of the monks of La Couture: “Anno Domini millesimo septuagesimo tercio iii kalendas Aprilis, roboratum est hoc preceptum a rege Anglorum Guillelmo apud Bonam Villam.” _Cartulaire de la Couture_, no. 9. Cf. Latouche, _Maine_, p. 38, n. 7, and p. 147, no. 38. [50] In a charter by Arnold, bishop of Le Mans, we read: “Acta autem fuit hec auctorizatio in urbe Cenomannica, in capitulo beati Iuliani, iiiº kalendas Aprilis … eo videlicet anno quo Robertus, Willelmi regis Anglorum filius, comitatum Cenomannensem recuperavit.” _Cartulaire de Saint-Vincent_, no. 175. This charter cannot be certainly dated more closely than 1066-81. But it seems not unlikely that it belongs to the spring of 1073, when, as we know, Norman authority had just been reëstablished at Le Mans by force of arms. [51] On these events see Augustin Fliche, _Le règne de Philippe Iᵉʳ, roi de France_ (Paris, 1912), pp. 270-274; Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 182. [52] He is so styled in 1074 in his attestation of a charter by King William in favor of Bayeux cathedral. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 76. [53] “Roberto … Cenomannicam urbem gubernante.” _Supra_, n. 35. [54] Ordericus, ii, pp. 294, 390; cf. _A.-S. C., a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 12. That this ceremony took place twice, once before and once after the Conquest, seems to be made certain by the specific phrase of Ordericus, “ante Senlacium bellum et post in quadam sua aegritudine.” Cf. _supra_, n. 43. [55] Unless one so regard a speech which Ordericus (ii, p. 259) puts into the mouths of the rebel earls Roger of Hereford and Ralph of Norfolk in 1074: “Transmarinis conflictibus undique circumdatur, et non solum ab externis, sed etiam a sua prole impugnatur, et a propriis alumnis inter discrimina deseritur.” But this speech is probably a work of imagination on the part of Ordericus, and he seems here to have fallen into an anachronism. Cf. Le Prévost, in Ordericus, ii, p. 377, n. 1. [56] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 2, 4, 6a, 30, 73, 75, 76, 92a, 96, 105, 114; Round, _C. D. F._, nos. 713, 957, 1165; Le Prévost, _Eure_, i, p. 562; _Antiquus Cartularius Ecclesiae Baiocensis (Livre noir)_, ed. l’abbé V. Bourrienne (Paris, 1902), no. 5; _Revue catholique de Normandie_, x, pp. 46-50; _Cartulaire de la Couture_, no. 15; Lot, _Saint-Wandrille_, nos. 30, 31, 38; Bertrand de Broussillon, _Maison de Laval_, i, p. 37, no. 20. Though the authenticity of this last document has been questioned, Broussillon regards it as “parfaitement authentique.” The attestation “Rotberti comiti regis Anglorum filii” is inconsistent with the evident date of the charter (1055), and must be, in part at least, a later interpolation. [57] Ordericus, ii, pp. 304-305. [58] Davis, _Regesta_, no. 96; Round, _C. D. F._, no. 449. CHAPTER II REBELLION AND EXILE Down to the year 1077 the conduct of Robert Curthose towards the king had, so far as we can see, been exemplary. Even William of Malmesbury, while criticising his later insubordination, still pays tribute to his obedient youth.[1] But difficulties were now at hand. Robert was rapidly growing to manhood, and his character was unfolding. Reared among his father’s men-at-arms, residing much about the court, enjoying the privileged position and the social freedom of the king’s heir and successor designate, he had developed into a warrior of distinguished valor,[2] and into a chivalrous knight and courtier considerably in advance of the rude society of the eleventh century.[3] Short and thick-set, though probably the coarse full face and enormous paunch[4] of later years had not yet developed; fluent of speech, affable in bearing, and of a jovial disposition; generous to the point of prodigality, giving to all who asked with unstinting hand, and lavish of promises when more substantial rewards were lacking;[5] he had become the centre of interest and attraction for the younger set about the Norman court, and from some points of view a serious rival of his father. His position was not unlike that of Henry Fitz Henry, the ‘Young King,’ who nearly a century later created such grave problems for Henry II. He had long borne the title of count and had enjoyed an official, or semi-official, position about the court. He had long since been formally recognized as his father’s heir and successor. The barons had twice done him homage and sworn fealty to him as their lord and future master. He was titular ruler of Maine. And if, as two charters seem to indicate, he was in some way formally invested with the Norman duchy in 1077 or 1078,[6] the resemblance between his position and that of the Young King after his coronation in 1170 is even more striking. Yet, with all these honors, Robert enjoyed no real power and exercised no active part in affairs of government. It was not the way of the Conqueror to part with any of his prerogatives prematurely; and if, for reasons of state, he bestowed formal honors upon his son, it was still his firm intention to remain sole master until the last within his own dominions. But for the young prince to continue thus in idleness, surrounded by a crowd of restless hangers-on of the younger nobility, was both costly and dangerous. Robert not unnaturally wished for an independent establishment and an income of his own;[7] but these the king was unwilling to provide. Robert, therefore, became dissatisfied; and the ambitious companions by whom he was surrounded were not slow to fan the embers of his growing discontent.[8] Apparently it was in the year 1078, or late in 1077,[9] that the unfortunate quarrel broke out which culminated in the siege of Gerberoy and a personal encounter between father and son upon the field of battle. Upon the cause of the disagreement we are fortunate in having abundant testimony,[10] and it is possible to define the issue with some exactness. Prompted by the rash counsels of his time-serving companions, Robert went to the king and demanded that immediate charge of the government of Normandy and of Maine be committed forthwith into his hands. To Maine he based his claim upon his rights through Margaret, his deceased fiancée, to Normandy upon the twice repeated grant which his father had made to him, once before the Conquest, and afterwards at Bonneville, when the assembled barons had done him homage and pledged their fealty to him as their lord.[11] If reliance may be placed upon the account of Ordericus Vitalis,[12] the Conqueror took some time to reflect upon his son’s demands and endeavored to reason with him about them.[13] He urged Robert to put away the rash young men who had prompted him to such imprudence and to give ear to wiser counsels. He explained that his demands were improper. He, the king, held Normandy by hereditary right, and England by right of conquest; and it would be preposterous to expect him to give them up to another. If Robert would only be patient and show himself worthy, he would receive all in due course, with the willing assent of the people and with the blessing of God. Let him remember Absalom and what happened to him, and beware lest he follow in the path of Rehoboam! But to all these weighty arguments Robert turned a deaf ear, replying that he had not come to hear sermons: he had heard such “ad nauseam” from the grammarians. His determination was immovably fixed. He would no longer do service to anyone in Normandy in the mean condition of a dependent. The king’s resolution, however, was equally firm. Normandy, he declared, was his native land, and he wished all to understand that so long as he lived he would never let it slip from his grasp.[14] The argument thus came to a deadlock; yet, apparently, there was no immediate break.[15] Relations doubtless continued strained, but Robert bided his time, perhaps seeking a more favorable opportunity for pressing his demands. At times he may even have appeared reconciled; yet no lasting settlement was possible so long as the cause of the discord remained. The actual outbreak of open rebellion followed, it seems, directly upon a family broil among the king’s sons; and Ordericus Vitalis, with characteristic fondness for gossip, has not failed to relate the incident in great detail.[16] The Conqueror, so the story runs, was preparing an expedition against the Corbonnais and had stopped at Laigle in the house of a certain Gontier, while Robert Curthose had found lodgings nearby in the house of Roger of Caux. Meanwhile, Robert’s younger brothers, William and Henry, had taken umbrage at his pretensions and at the rash demands which he had made upon their father, and they were strongly supporting the king against him. While in this frame of mind they paid Robert a visit at his lodgings. Going into an upper room, they began dicing ‘as soldiers will’; and presently—doubtless after there had been drinking—they started a row and threw down water upon their host and his companions who were on the floor below. Robert was not unnaturally enraged at this insult, and with the support of his comrades[17] he rushed in upon the offenders, and a wild scuffle ensued, which was only terminated by the timely arrival of the king, who, upon hearing the clamor, came in haste from his lodgings and put a stop to the quarrel by his royal presence.[18] Robert, however, remained sullen and offended; and that night, accompanied by his intimates, he withdrew secretly from the royal forces and departed. Riding straight for Rouen, he made the rash venture of attempting to seize the castle by a surprise attack, an action which seems almost incredible, except on the hypothesis that a conspiracy with wide ramifications was already under way. However this may be, the attack upon Rouen failed. Roger of Ivry, the king’s butler, who was guarding the castle, got word of the impending stroke, set the defences in order, and sent messengers in hot haste to warn the king of the danger. William was furious at his son’s treason, and ordered a wholesale arrest of the malcontents, thus spreading consternation among them and breaking up their plans. Some were captured, but others escaped across the frontier.[19] The rising now spread rapidly among the king’s enemies on both sides of the border. Hugh of Châteauneuf-en-Thymerais promptly opened the gates of his castles at Châteauneuf, Sorel, and Rémalard to the fugitives, and so furnished them with a secure base beyond the frontier from which to make incursions into Normandy. Robert of Bellême also joined the rebel cause. Perhaps, indeed, it was through his influence that Hugh of Châteauneuf was persuaded to give succor to the rebels; for Hugh was his brother-in-law, having married his sister Mabel. Ralph de Toeny, lord of Conches, also joined the rebellion, and many others, among them doubtless being Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil and Aimeric de Villeray.[20] The border war which followed did not long remain a local matter. It was an event fit to bring joy to all King William’s enemies; and it caused a great commotion, we are told, not only in the immediate neighborhood of the revolt, but also in distant parts among the French and Bretons and the men of Maine and Anjou.[21] The king, however, met the rebellion with his accustomed vigor and decision. He confiscated the lands of the rebels and turned their rents to the employment of mercenaries to be used against them. Apparently he had been on his way to make war upon Rotrou of Mortagne in the Corbonnais when his plans had been interrupted by the disgraceful brawl among his sons at Laigle.[22] He now abandoned that enterprise, and, making peace with Rotrou, took him and his troops into his own service. And thus raising a considerable army, he laid siege to the rebels in their stronghold at Rémalard.[23] But of the outcome of these operations we have no certain knowledge. One of the insurgents at least, Aimeric de Villeray, was slain, and his son Gulfer was so terrified by his father’s tragic fate that he made peace with the king and remained thereafter unshakably loyal. We hear, too, vaguely of a ‘dapifer’ of the king of France who was passing from castle to castle among the rebels.[24] What his business was we know not; but it seems not unlikely that King Philip was already negotiating with the insurgent leaders with a view to aiding and abetting their enterprise against his too powerful Norman vassal.[25] Philip had made peace with the Conqueror after the latter’s unsuccessful siege of Dol in 1076,[26] but the friendship of the two kings had not been lasting. Sound policy demanded that Philip spare no effort to curb the overweening power of his great Norman feudatory; and William had, therefore, to count upon his constant, if veiled, hostility.[27] The rebellion of Robert Curthose and his followers was Philip’s opportunity; and it seems not improbable that he looked upon the movement with favor and gave it encouragement from its inception. Clearly he made no effort to suppress it, though the fighting was going on within his own borders. And, in any case, before the end of 1078 he had definitely taken Robert Curthose under his protection and had assigned him the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis, close to the Norman frontier.[28] There Robert was received with his followers by royal castellans and promised every possible aid and support. But this evidently was some months, at least, after the outbreak of Robert’s rebellion. As to his movements in the meantime, we hear little more than uncertain rumors. The sources are silent concerning the part which he played in the border warfare which centred around the castles of Hugh of Châteauneuf. We have it on the express statement of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ that Robert fled to his uncle, Robert the Frisian, count of Flanders;[29] and in this the _Chronicle_ is confirmed by Ordericus Vitalis, who adds that he also visited Odo, bishop of Treves.[30] Other writers indicate simply that he withdrew into France.[31] Ordericus indeed, represents him as wandering much farther, and visiting noble kinsmen, “dukes, counts, and powerful townsmen (_oppidani_) in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,” wasting his substance in dissolute living and reduced to poverty and beggary, and to borrowing of foreign usurers.[32] But such wanderings, if they actually occurred, it seems more natural to assign—since we are reduced to conjecture—to Robert’s second exile.[33] One incident, however, which concerns his mother, the queen, who died in 1083, must be assigned to this period. The singularly happy relations which existed between William and Matilda, their mutual love, devotion, and confidence, are of course famous. Once only during their long union were these happy relations seriously disturbed.[34] For Matilda’s heart was touched by the distresses of her son, and she did not sympathize with the stern justice of the Conqueror in this domestic matter. Secretly she undertook to provide Robert out of her own revenues with funds for the maintenance of a military force. But the king soon detected her and interfered, declaring, in his wrath, that he had learned the truth of the adage, “A faithless woman is her husband’s bane.” He had loved her as his own soul and had intrusted her with his treasures and with jurisdiction throughout all his dominions, only to find her giving succor to enemies who were plotting against his life. But undaunted by this outburst, the queen sought to justify herself upon the ground of her great love for her eldest son. Though Robert were dead and buried seven feet under the earth, she declared, she would gladly die, if by so doing she could restore him to life. Respecting the spirit of his proud consort, the king turned to vent his rage upon Samson le Breton, the queen’s messenger, proposing to seize him and have him blinded. But Samson received timely warning and managed to escape to Saint-Évroul; and, at the queen’s request, Abbot Mainer received him into the monastery. There he dwelt in security and led an exemplary life for twenty-six years, no doubt well known to the chronicler of the house who records his tale.[35] Whatever be the truth about Robert’s wanderings and the vicissitudes of his exile, in the end he returned to France and, as already noted, gained the support of King Philip, and was established with his followers in the castle of Gerberoy in the Beauvaisis. There a military force of considerable proportions began to gather around him in response to his lavish promises. Adventurers came from France; but in greater numbers came the malcontents from Normandy. Many who hitherto had kept the peace and had remained loyal to the king now deserted the royal cause and went over to swell the ranks of the rebels.[36] King William was now obliged to turn his attention to this hornet’s nest that was spreading terror among the peaceful and defenceless population on his northeastern frontier. Quartering troops in his strongholds opposite Gerberoy, he endeavored to forestall the destructive raids which the insurgents were making into his territory.[37] But, vexed that his enemies should seem to dwell in security at a point so little removed from the borders of Normandy, he determined to carry the war beyond the frontier; and, though it was the inclement season, he assembled his forces and laid siege to Gerberoy itself for some three weeks soon after Christmas (1078-79).[38] The operations which followed were enlivened in the fashion of the day by the frequent interchange of challenges and by numerous encounters between selected bodies of knights from each side,[39] until finally the besieged garrison brought the contest to an issue by a successful sortie and a pitched battle in the open before the castle.[40] In the general mêlée which ensued the Conqueror and Robert met in single combat, and the elderly king proved no match for his vigorous and skilful antagonist. He was wounded in the hand or arm, and his horse was shot from under him.[41] According to one, and perhaps the better, account, Tokig son of Wigod, a faithful Englishman, hurried to the king with another mount, only to be himself slain a moment later by a shaft from a crossbow.[42] According to another account, however, at the supreme moment of his antagonist’s distress, Robert recognized his father’s voice—armor had hitherto disguised the king—and, leaping down from his own horse, he directed him to mount and allowed him to ride away.[43] Many of the king’s men were slain, others were captured, and many more were wounded, among them being Robert’s younger brother, William Rufus.[44] The discomfiture of the royal forces was complete, and they fled from the field.[45] This unexpected defeat before the walls of Gerberoy was a deep humiliation to the Conqueror. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as the one outstanding misfortune of his long and brilliant career.[46] In the bitterness of his shame and of his indignation against the son who had not only rebelled against him, but had actually met him on the field of battle and wounded and unhorsed him, William is said to have laid on Robert a terrible curse, vowing to disinherit him forever.[47] Though the curse was soon lifted and grudging forgiveness granted, one might easily believe from the misfortunes of Robert’s later years that the baneful influence of this paternal malediction followed him to his grave more than half a century later beneath the pavement stones of Gloucester abbey. The part played by the king of France in the border war around Gerberoy is puzzling. The narrative sources state specifically that King Philip had given his support to Robert and the Norman rebels and had deliberately established them at Gerberoy in order that they might harry the Norman border. Yet we have a charter of unquestioned validity by King Philip in favor of the church of Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, which bears the signatures of both William and Philip and a dating clause which reveals the fact that it was drawn up at the siege which the two kings were conducting about Gerberoy in 1079.[48] The evidence is conclusive, therefore, that, though the French king had previously supported Robert and had actually established him at Gerberoy, he nevertheless joined with the Conqueror early in 1079 in besieging the Norman rebels in his own stronghold.[49] How King William had wrought this change of mind in his jealous overlord we have no means of knowing. But it is evident that, while meeting his son’s rebellion by force of arms, he had not been forgetful of his mastery of the diplomatic art. The presence of so great an ally, however, could not disguise the fact of the Conqueror’s defeat; and before the struggle was allowed to go to further extremes, influences were brought to bear upon the king which led to a reconciliation. After his humiliating discomfiture William had retired to Rouen.[50] Robert is said to have gone to Flanders,[51] though this seems hardly likely in view of his decisive victory over the royal forces. In any case, intermediaries now began to pass back and forth between them. Robert was very willing to make peace and be reconciled with his father. The barons, too, had little mind for a continuation of this kind of warfare. Robert’s rebellion had divided many a family, and it was irksome to the nobles to have to fight against “sons, brothers, and kinsmen.” Accordingly, Roger of Montgomery, Hugh of Gournay, Hugh of Grandmesnil, and Roger of Beaumont and his sons Robert and Henry went to the king and besought him to be reconciled with his son. They explained that Robert had been led astray by the evil counsels of depraved youth—were the ‘depraved youth’ in question the ‘sons and brothers’ of our respectable negotiators?—that he now repented of his errors and acknowledged his fault and humbly implored the royal clemency. The king at first remained obdurate and complained bitterly against his son. His conduct, he declared, had been infamous. He had stirred up civil war and led away the very flower of the young nobility. He had also brought in the foreign enemy; and, had it been in his power, he would have armed the whole human race against his father! The barons, however, persisted in their efforts. Conferences were renewed. Bishops and other men of religion, among them St. Simon of Crépy,[52] an old friend and companion of the Conqueror, intervened to soften the king’s heart. The queen, too, and ambassadors from the king of France, and neighboring nobles who had entered the Conqueror’s service all added their solicitations. And “at last the stern prince, giving way to the entreaties of so many persons of rank, and moved also by natural affection, was reconciled with his son and those who had been leagued with him.” With the consent of the assembled barons he renewed to Robert the grant of the succession to Normandy after his death, upon the same conditions as he had granted it on a former occasion at Bonneville.[53] It is not clear over how long a period the foregoing negotiations had been drawn out, though it is not improbable that they were continued into the spring of 1080;[54] for on 8 May of that year Gregory VII wrote Robert a letter of fatherly counsel in which he referred to the reconciliation as good news which had but recently reached him. The Pope rejoiced that Robert had acquiesced in his father’s wishes and put away the society of base companions; while at the same time he solemnly warned him against a return to his evil courses in the future.[55] Whether or not the Pope’s admonition had anything to do with it, Robert seems, for a time at least, to have made an earnest effort to acquiesce in his father’s wishes. The reconciliation was, so far as can be seen, complete and cordial. Again Robert’s name begins to appear frequently in the charters of the period, indicating a full and friendly coöperation with his parents and his brothers.[56] The king, too, seems so far to have had a change of heart as to be willing for the first time in his life to intrust his son with important enterprises. In the late summer of 1079, King Malcolm of Scotland had taken advantage of the Conqueror’s preoccupation with his continental dominions to harry Northumberland as far south as the Tyne,[57] and King William had been obliged for the moment to forego his vengeance. But in the late summer or autumn of 1080 he crossed over to England with Robert,[58] and prepared to square accounts with his Scottish adversary. Assembling a large force, which included Abbot Adelelm of Abingdon and a considerable number of the great barons of England, he placed Robert in command and sent him northward against the Scottish raider.[59] Advancing into Lothian,[60] Robert met Malcolm at Eccles,[61] but found him in no mood for fighting. Ready enough for raids and plundering when the English armies were at a safe distance, the Scottish king had no desire for the test of a decisive engagement. Unless the language of the Abingdon chronicle is misleading, he again recognized the English suzerainty over his kingdom and gave hostages for his good faith.[62] Thus enjoying an easy triumph, Robert turned back southward. Laying the foundations of ‘New Castle’ upon the Tyne[63] as he passed, he came again to his father and was duly rewarded for his achievement.[64] Charters indicate that Robert remained in England throughout the following winter and spring;[65] but before the end of 1081 important events had taken place on the borders of Maine which called both the king and his son back in haste to the Continent. Norman rule was always unpopular in Maine, and it created grave problems. As has already been explained, it had been temporarily overthrown during the critical years which followed the Norman conquest of England, and it had been reëstablished only by force of arms in 1073.[66] But the restoration of Norman domination in Maine was a serious check to the ambition of Fulk le Réchin, count of Anjou, who seized every opportunity to cause embarrassment to his Norman rival. Thus, in the autumn of 1076,[67] he assisted the beleaguered garrison at Dol and was at least in part responsible for the Conqueror’s discomfiture.[68] So, too, he made repeated attacks upon John of La Flèche, one of the most powerful supporters of the Norman interest in Maine.[69] Though the chronology and the details of these events are exceedingly obscure, there is reason to believe that Fulk’s movements were in some way connected with the rebellion of Robert Curthose.[70] And while it is impossible to be dogmatic, it is perhaps not a very hazardous conjecture that upon the outbreak of Robert’s rebellion, late in 1077, or in 1078, Fulk seized the opportunity of the king’s embarrassment and preoccupation on the eastern Norman frontier to launch an expedition against his hated enemy, John of La Flèche.[71] But Fulk’s hopes were sadly disappointed; for John of La Flèche learned of the impending stroke in time to obtain reënforcements from Normandy,[72] and Fulk was obliged to retire, severely wounded, from the siege.[73] It was probably after these events that a truce was concluded between King William and Count Fulk at an unidentified place called “castellum Vallium,”[74] a truce which appears to have relieved the Conqueror from further difficulties in Maine until after his reconciliation with Robert Curthose. In 1081, however, taking advantage of the absence of the king and Robert in England, Fulk returned to the attack upon Maine; and this time his efforts seem to have met with more success. Again laying siege to La Flèche, he took it and burned it.[75] It was apparently this reverse sustained by the Norman supporters in Maine which caused the king and Robert to hasten back from England in 1081. Levying a great army—sixty thousand, according to Ordericus![76]—they hastened towards La Flèche to meet the victorious Angevins. But when the hostile armies were drawn up facing each other and the battle was about to begin,[77] an unnamed cardinal priest[78] and certain monks interposed their friendly offices in the interest of peace. William of Évreux and Roger of Montgomery ably seconded their efforts, and after much negotiation terms were finally agreed upon in the treaty of La Bruère or Blanchelande (1081). Fulk abandoned his pretensions to direct rule in Maine and recognized the rights of Robert Curthose. Robert, on the other hand, recognized the Angevin overlordship of Maine and formally did homage to Fulk for the fief. Further, a general amnesty was extended to the baronage on both sides. John of La Flèche and other Angevin nobles who had been fighting in the Norman interest were reconciled with Fulk, and the Manceaux who had supported the Angevin cause were received back into the good graces of the king.[79] Finally, there probably was an interchange of hostages as an assurance of good faith. The so-called Annals of Renaud, at any rate, assert that the king’s half-brother and nephew, Robert of Mortain and his son, and many others were given as hostages to Fulk.[80] With the conclusion of peace in 1081 the relations between the Conqueror and the count of Anjou with regard to Maine entered upon a happier era,[81] though difficulties between them were by no means at an end. The death of Arnold, bishop of Le Mans, for example, on 29 November 1081, gave rise to a long dispute as to the right of patronage over the see. Fulk strongly opposed Hoël, the Norman candidate, and it was not until 21 April 1085 that Hoël was finally consecrated by Archbishop William at Rouen and the Norman rights over the see of Le Mans definitely vindicated.[82] During this same period King William had also to contend with a very troublesome local insurrection among the Manceaux. Under the leadership of Hubert, _vicomte_ of Maine, the rebels installed themselves in the impregnable fortress of Sainte-Suzanne and maintained themselves there for several years against all the king’s efforts to dislodge them. At last, in 1085, or early in 1086, he practically acknowledged his defeat, and received Hubert, the leader of the rebels, back into his favor.[83] If Robert Curthose played any active part in the dispute with Count Fulk as to the right of patronage over the see of Le Mans, or in the siege of Sainte-Suzanne, or, indeed, if he had any actual share in the government of Maine during this period, the record of it has not been preserved. Whatever intention the king may have had of taking his son into a closer coöperation in the management of his affairs was evidently short-lived, and he continued to keep the exercise of all authority directly in his own hands. Such a policy, however, was fatal to the good understanding that had been established after the siege of Gerberoy, and inevitably led to further difficulties. Indeed, it is altogether possible that Robert was again in exile before the end of 1083. After the peace of La Bruère he can be traced in a number of charters of 1082 and 1083. On 24 June 1082, he was at Oissel in Normandy.[84] Once in the same year he was at Downton in England.[85] He was certainly back in Normandy in association with the king and queen and William Rufus as late as 18 July 1083.[86] And then he disappears from view until after the Conqueror’s death in 1087. Evidently another bitter quarrel had intervened and been followed by a second banishment. It seems impossible from the confused narrative of Ordericus Vitalis and the meagre notices of other chroniclers to disentangle the details of this new controversy. It is clear that the points at issue had not changed materially since the earlier difficulties.[87] Robert, long since formally recognized as the Conqueror’s heir and successor designate, to whom the baronage had repeatedly done homage, could not remain content with the wholly subordinate position and with the limitations which the king imposed upon him. His youth, prospects, and affable manners, his generosity and unrestrained social propensities won him a numerous following among the younger nobility; and these ambitious companions in turn spurred him on to make importunate demands upon his father for larger powers and enjoyments. The king, on the other hand, could not bring himself to make the desired concessions. It was no part of the Conqueror’s nature to share his powers or prerogatives with anyone. Doubtless there was blame on both sides. Even Ordericus Vitalis hardly justifies the king. Robert, he says, refused to be obedient, and the king covered him with reproaches publicly.[88] And so the old controversy was renewed, and Robert again withdrew from Normandy. Knight errant that he was, he set out to seek his fortune in foreign parts—like Polynices the Theban in search of his Adrastus![89] As to the period of these wanderings, we have no indication beyond the negative evidence of the charters, in which Robert does not appear after 1083. It may, perhaps, be conjectured that the death of the queen (2 November 1083), who had befriended him during his earlier difficulties with his father, had removed the support which made possible his continued residence at the court.[90] Robert’s second exile was evidently longer than the first,[91] and less filled with active warfare on the frontiers of Normandy. It seems natural, therefore, to suppose that the distant wanderings and vicissitudes of which we hear, ‘in Lorraine, Germany, Aquitaine, and Gascony,’[92] should be assigned to this period. Of more value, perhaps, than the vague indications of Ordericus Vitalis, and certainly of greater interest, if true, is the statement of William of Malmesbury that Robert made his way to Italy and sought the hand of the greatest heiress of the age, the famous Countess Matilda of Tuscany, desiring thus to gain support against his father. In this ambitious project, however, the courtly exile was doomed to disappointment, for Matilda rejected his proposal.[93] Failing of his quest in Italy, Robert seems to have returned to France, and to the satisfaction of his desires among baser associates. Long banishment and vagabondage had brought on deterioration of character and led him into habits of loose living[94] from which the Conqueror was notably free. At some time during his long exile, he became the father of several illegitimate children. Ordericus Vitalis puts the story as baldly as possible, asserting that he became enamored of the handsome concubine of an aged priest somewhere on the borders of France and had two sons by her.[95] Both were destined to a tragic death before their father. One of them, Richard, fell a victim to the evil spell which lay upon the New Forest, being accidentally slain by an arrow while hunting there in the year 1100.[96] The other, William, after his father’s final defeat at Tinchebray in 1106, went to Jerusalem and died fighting in the holy wars.[97] Robert also had an illegitimate daughter, who lived to become the wife of Helias of Saint-Saëns, most sturdy and loyal of all the supporters of Robert Curthose in the victorious days of Henry I.[98] Whatever the field of Robert’s obscure wanderings and whatever the vicissitudes through which he passed, he returned eventually to France, where he enjoyed the friendship and support of King Philip.[99] The king of France had momentarily fought upon the side of the Conqueror at Gerberoy in 1079; but such an alliance was unnatural and could not last. Hostility between the two kings was inevitable; and almost the last act of the Conqueror’s life was a revival of the ancient feud and an attempt to take vengeance upon the hated overlord who had given asylum and succor to his rebellious son.[100] The struggle this time raged over the debatable ground of the Vexin. In the late summer of 1087 King William assembled his forces and appeared suddenly before the gates of Mantes. The inhabitants and the garrison, scattered about the countryside, were taken completely by surprise; and as they fled in wild confusion back within the walls, the king and his men rushed in after them, plundered the town, and burned it to the ground.[101] But from that day of vengeance and destruction the Conqueror returned to Rouen a dying man. There, lingering for some weeks at the priory of Saint-Gervais outside the city, he made his final earthly dispositions. Robert, his undutiful son, was still in France and at war against him.[102] Whether from conviction of his incompetence or from resentment at his treason, the king had arrived at the unalterable decision that Robert, his firstborn, should not succeed him in England. For that honor he recommended William Rufus, his second son. Indeed, the dying king, it seems, would gladly have disinherited his eldest son altogether.[103] But there were grave difficulties in the way of such a course. Robert had been formally and repeatedly designated as his heir and successor.[104] In the last awful moments of his earthly existence the Conqueror recognized that he did not hold the English kingdom by hereditary right; he had received it through the favor of God and victorious battle with Harold.[105] Robert, his heir, therefore—so he is said to have reasoned—had no claim upon England. But Normandy he had definitely conceded to him; and Robert had received the homage of the baronage. The grant thus made and ratified he could not annul.[106] Moreover, there were men of weight and influence present at the royal bedside to plead the exile’s cause. Fearing lest their lord should die with wrath in his heart against the son who had injured him so deeply, the assembled prelates and barons, Archbishop William being their spokesman, endeavored to turn the king’s heart into the way of forgiveness. At first he was bitter and seemed to be recounting to himself the manifold injuries that Robert had done him; he had sinned against him grievously and brought down his gray hairs to the grave. But finally, yielding to persuasion and making the supreme effort of self-conquest, the king called on God and the assembled magnates to witness that he forgave Robert all his offences and renewed to him the grant of Normandy[107] and Maine.[108] A messenger was despatched to France to bear to Robert the tidings of paternal forgiveness and of his succession to the duchy.[109] And with these and other final dispositions, William the Conqueror ended his career upon earth (9 September 1087). His undutiful and rebellious son was not present at the royal bedside at the end,[110] nor later at the burial in the church of St. Stephen at Caen.[111] FOOTNOTES [1] “Inter bellicas patris alas excrevit primaevo tirocinio, parenti morem in omnibus gerens.” _G. R._, ii, p. 459. [2] Practically all the sources bear witness to Robert’s courage and special prowess in arms. E.g., Ordericus, ii, p. 295; iii, p. 262; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 459-460, 463; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 267, 284; Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 149. For the exaggerations to which this was carried in later tradition see _infra_, pp. 190-197. [3] These qualities will become more evident in the sequel. Stenton characterizes Robert as “a gross anticipation of the chivalrous knight of later times.” _William the Conqueror_, p. 349. [4] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 459; Ordericus, ii, p. 295; iii, p. 262. [5] The inimitable characterization of Ordericus Vitalis is worthy of reproduction in full. “Omnes ducem Rodbertum mollem esse desidemque cognoscebant… Erat quippe idem dux audax et validus, multaque laude dignus; eloquio facundus, sed in regimine sui suorumque inconsideratus, in erogando prodigus, in promittendo diffusus, ad mentiendum levis et incautus, misericors supplicibus, ad iustitiam super iniquo faciendam mollis et mansuetus, in definitione mutabilis, in conversatione omnibus nimis blandus et tractabilis, ideoque perversis et insipientibus despicabilis; corpore autem brevis et grossus, ideoque Brevis Ocrea a patre est cognominatus. Ipse cunctis placere studebat, cunctisque quod petebant aut dabat, aut promittebat, vel concedebat. Prodigus, dominium patrum suorum quotidie imminuebat, insipienter tribuens unicuique quod petebat, et ipse pauperescebat, unde alios contra se roborabat.” _Ibid._, iii, pp. 262-263. Cf. Ralph of Caen in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 616, 642; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 459-463. [6] Two charters dated 24 May 1096 at Bayeux, ‘xviiii. anno principatus domni Roberti Willelmi regis Anglorum filii ducis Normannie,’ the one by Robert himself and the other by Odo of Bayeux and attested by Robert. Haskins, pp. 66-67, nos. 3, 4, and n. 19. The style here employed of dating the reign from 1077-78 is unusual. It is ordinarily dated from Robert’s actual accession to the duchy upon the death of the Conqueror in 1087. Cf., e.g., Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 308, 310. [7] Ordericus Vitalis makes Robert say: “Quid ergo faciam, vel quid meis clientibus tribuam?… Mercenarius tuus semper esse nolo. Aliquando rem familiarem volo habere, ut mihi famulantibus digna possim stipendia retribuere.” Ordericus, ii, p. 378. Cf. Achille Luchaire, _La société française au temps de Philippe-Auguste_ (Paris, 1909), pp. 280-282, where it is pointed out that such demands and the quarrels and the open warfare which frequently resulted from them were perfectly characteristic of the feudal age. [8] Ordericus, ii, pp. 294, 377 ff.; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 459; Registers of Gregory VII, bk. vii, no. 27, in _Bibliotheca Rerum Germanicarum_, ed. Philipp Jaffé (Berlin, 1864-73), ii, pp. 420-421. [9] The date at which the quarrel began is uncertain. It must have been after 13 September 1077, when Robert was present with his parents and William Rufus at the dedication of Saint-Étienne at Caen. _Supra_, p. 16. The siege of Gerberoy, which marks its termination, took place in December and January 1078-79. _Infra_, n. 38. [10] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 316-317, 459-460; _A.-S.C., a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 12; _Chronicon Monasterii de Hyda_, in _Liber Monasterii de Hyda_, ed. Edward Edwards (London, 1866), p. 297; Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295, 377 ff.; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268; Registers of Gregory VII, bk. vii, no. 27, in Jaffé, _Bibliotheca_, ii, pp. 420-421. [11] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268; cf. Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295, 389. [12] Ordericus Vitalis is the only early writer who treats in detail of the quarrels between Robert and the Conqueror. He discusses them at length in two places (ii, pp. 294-298, 377-390), but unfortunately his accounts are confused and very difficult to disentangle. There clearly were two quarrels and two periods during which Robert was in exile. Ordericus himself (ii, p. 390) is specific with regard to this; and we know independently that the first quarrel—followed by a relatively short period of exile—ended in the reconciliation after the siege of Gerberoy (1079) and that Robert was again in exile at the time of the Conqueror’s death (1087). Pretty clearly the second exile was for a longer period than the first. But the two accounts of Ordericus do not deal each with one of these quarrels. Rather they both purport to relate to the earlier quarrel and to the banishment which followed it. Yet it is obvious that Ordericus, lacking contemporary knowledge of the events, has confused the two episodes and has related incidents of the latter as if they belonged to the former. For example (ii, p. 381), he represents Robert as wandering in exile for a period of five years. Clearly this was not after the first quarrel, to which he relates it, since that could have been followed by no such extended banishment. In the narrative detail which follows I have attempted to disentangle the accounts of Ordericus Vitalis conjecturally, striving to preserve something of the vivacity of style of the original, without supposing that I have been able to arrive at rigorous historical accuracy. Ordericus’s own narrative is obviously in a high degree a work of imagination. [13] Ordericus, ii, pp. 294-295. [14] _Ibid._, pp. 378-380. [15] _Ibid._, pp. 294-295. [16] Ordericus, ii, pp. 295-296. [17] Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil are mentioned by name. [18] Ordericus, ii, pp. 295-296. [19] Ordericus, ii, p. 296. [20] _Ibid._, pp. 296-298. Elsewhere Ordericus gives another list as follows: Robert of Bellême, William of Breteuil, Roger de Bienfaite, Robert Mowbray, William de Moulins, and William de Rupierre. _Ibid._, pp. 380-381. Robert of Bellême is the only one appearing in both lists, and it would be rash to assume that all the foregoing supported Robert Curthose against the king in his first rebellion. But if Ordericus Vitalis is to be trusted, they were all at one time or another associated in Robert’s treason. [21] _Ibid._, p. 297. [22] _Ibid._, p. 295; cf. p. 297: “cum Rotrone Mauritaniensi comite pacem fecit.” [23] Ordericus, ii, pp. 297-298. [24] _Ibid._, p. 298. Freeman’s interpretation of this passage regarding Aimeric de Villeray and the dapifer of the king of France, which differs greatly from that which I have given, appears to be based upon a careless and absolutely wrong reading of the Latin text. _Norman Conquest_, iv, pp. 639-640. [25] This hypothesis would help to explain the vague statement of Ordericus Vitalis: “Galli et Britones, Cenomanni et Andegavenses, aliique populi fluctuabant, et quem merito sequi deberent ignorabant.” Ordericus, ii, p. 297. [26] _A.-S. C., a._ 1077: “This year a peace was made between the king of France and William king of England, but it lasted only a little while.” Henry of Huntingdon, _Historia Anglorum_, ed. Thomas Arnold (London, 1879), p. 206; cf. Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, p. 274. [27] “Philippum … semper infidum habuit, quod scilicet ille tantam gloriam viro invideret quem et patris sui et suum hominem esse constaret.” William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 316. [28] Ordericus, ii, p. 386. [29] _A._ 1079. [30] Ordericus, ii, p. 381. Bishop Odo died 11 November 1078. Ordericus is in error in saying that he was the brother of Robert the Frisian. [31] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 12: “Franciam adiit, et auxilio Philippi regis in Normannia magnam frequenter praedam agebat, villas comburebat, homines perimebat”; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 297. [32] Ordericus, ii, pp. 381-382. [33] _Supra_, n. 12. [34] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 331: “aliquantula simultas inter eos innata extremis annis fuerit pro Roberto filio, cui mater militarem manum ex fisci redditibus sufficere dicebatur”; Ordericus (ii, pp. 382-383) is much more detailed. [35] Ordericus, ii, pp. 382-383. [36] _Ibid._, pp. 386-387. [37] Ordericus, ii, pp. 386-387; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 12-13. [38] The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ seems to place the siege at the end of 1079, but this is an error. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079. The siege took place after Christmas 1078 and in the early weeks of 1079. Ordericus, ii, p. 387. This is made certain by a charter of Philip I in favor of Saint-Quentin of Beauvais, dated “in obsidione … circa Gerborredum, anno … millesimo septuagesimo viiiiⁿᵒ anno vero regni Philippi regis Francorum ixⁿᵒ xᵐᵒ.” _Recueil des actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ, roi de France_, ed. Maurice Prou (Paris, 1908), no. 94. Freeman, though having this charter in hand, still dates the siege in 1079-80. _Norman Conquest_, iv, pp. 642-643. But Prou has shown conclusively that Freeman is in error and that the correct date is unquestionably January 1079. _Op. cit._, p. 242, n. 1. [39] Ordericus, ii, pp. 387-388. [40] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13. [41] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 317; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 206. According to the _Chronicle_ the king was wounded in the hand, according to Florence in the arm. The _Chronicon_ in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 279, is still different, stating that the king was wounded in the foot by an arrow. [42] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079. Freeman with patriotic pride makes much of this exploit of Tokig the Englishman; but there appears to be no valid reason for accepting, as Freeman does, this version from the _Chronicle_ and rejecting the different version of Florence of Worcester. _Norman Conquest_, iv, pp. 643-644; cf. pp. 850-852. [43] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13. [44] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 317; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 206-207. [45] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13. [46] _G. R._, ii, p. 317. [47] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 207: “Maledixit autem rex Roberto filio suo”; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 297: “Cumque sanguinem defluere cerneret, terribiliter imprecatus est ne unquam Robertus filius suus haereditatis suae iura perciperet”; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 32; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 460. [48] Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, no. 94. [49] Friendly relations between the Conqueror and Philip are implied in the statement of Ordericus (ii, p. 390) that the king of France sent ambassadors to urge a reconciliation between William and Robert. _Infra_, p. 29. [50] Ordericus, ii, p. 388. [51] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1079. [52] _Vita Beati Simonis Comitis Crespeiensis Auctore Synchrono_, in Migne, clvi, col. 1219. We have here chronological data of some importance. St. Simon was present at Compiègne at the translation of the Holy Shroud from its ivory casket to the magnificent golden reliquary which Queen Matilda had presented to the church of Saint-Corneille; and on the next day (_in crastino itaque solemnitate peracta_) he proceeded to Normandy, where he acted as mediator between the Conqueror and his rebellious son. A charter by Philip I informs us that the translation of the Holy Shroud at Compiègne took place on the fourth Sunday of Lent. Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, no. 126. St. Simon, therefore, left Compiègne for Normandy on the Monday after Midlent. The year, however, remains in doubt. Presumably it was 1079 or 1080, probably the latter. Philip’s charter (dated 1092) refers to the translation only incidently and gives no information as to the year in which it occurred. Ordericus Vitalis (ii, p. 389) indicates that the peace negotiations were protracted: “Frequenti colloquio Normannici proceres regem allocuti sunt.” It cannot certainly be said that the reconciliation had been consummated earlier than Easter (12 April) 1080, on which date Robert joined with the king in the attestation of a charter. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 123. Gregory VII, writing on 8 May 1080, speaks of it as a recent event. _Infra_, n. 55. Émile Morel, editor of _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de Saint-Corneille de Compiègne_ (Montdidier, 1904-09), i, p. 53, says that the translation of the relic took place on 3 April 1082, but he cites no authority, and I have been able to find none. Jean Pillet says: “Il est constant par des manuscrits qui parlent de cette translation, qu’elle a été faite … en 1081.” _Histoire du château et de la ville de Gerberoy_ (Rouen, 1679), p. 85. But he does not indicate where these ‘manuscripts’ are to be found, and his method of dealing with chronological problems is so arbitrary as to inspire little confidence. [53] Ordericus, ii, pp. 388-390. [54] _Supra_, n. 52. It may also be noted that the raid of King Malcolm, though it occurred in 1079, did not cause the king to go to England until 1080. _Infra_, p. 31. [55] Registers of Gregory VII, bk. vii, no. 27, in Jaffé, _Bibliotheca_, ii, pp. 420-421. The letter is of more than passing interest, since it throws much light upon the matters which had been in controversy and is strongly confirmatory of the narrative sources. “Insuper monemus et paterne precamur, ut menti tuae semper sit infixum, quam forti manu, quam divulgata gloria, quicquid pater tuus possideat, ab ore inimicorum extraxerit; sciens tamen, se non in perpetuum vivere, sed ad hoc tam viriliter insistere, ut eredi alicui sua dimitteret. Caveas ergo, fili dilectissime, admonemus, ne abhinc pravorum consiliis adquiescas, quibus patrem offendas et matrem contristeris… Pravorum consilia ex officio nostro praecipimus penitus dimittas, patris voluntati in omnibus adquiescas. Data Rome 8 idus Maii, indictione 3.” It may also be noted that on the same day Gregory wrote letters of courtesy to William and Matilda. But in both he confined himself to generalities and said nothing of consequence, tactfully avoiding all reference to Robert or to the recent family discord. _Ibid._, nos. 25, 26. [56] E.g., 1080, April 12, [Rouen?] (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 123); 1080, July 14, Caen (_ibid._, no. 125); 1080, [presumably in Normandy] (_ibid._, nos. 126, 127); 1081, February, [London] (_ibid._, no. 135); [1078-83, perhaps 1081], February 2, Salisbury (_Historia et Cartularium Monasterii S. Petri Gloucestriae_, ed. W. H. Hart, London, 1863-67, i, no. 411); 1081, Winchester (Davis, _Regesta_, no. 140); 1082, June 24, Oissel (_ibid._, nos. 145, 146); 1082, Downton (_ibid._, no. 147); 1082 (_ibid._, nos. 149, 150); [c. 1082] (_ibid._, no. 158); 1083, July 18 (_ibid._, no. 182); 1083 (_Chartes de S.-Julien de Tours_, no. 37); [1079-82] (Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 168-173); cf. _ibid._, 165, 175, 183a. [57] _A.-S.C._, _a._ 1079; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 13. [58] Presumably they went over together, though we have no record of their actual crossing. They were still at Caen in Normandy 14 July 1080. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 125. [59] _Chronicon Monasterii de Abingdon_, ed. Joseph Stevenson (London, 1858), ii, p. 9; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211. [60] _Chronicon de Abingdon_, ii, p. 9. [61] Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211. [62] “Proinde ut regno Angliae principatus Scotiae subactus foret, obsides tribuit.” _Chronicon de Abingdon_, pp. 9-10. Simeon of Durham says rather contemptuously that Robert returned from Eccles “nullo confecto negotio.” _H. R._, p. 211. But this statement is hardly inconsistent with the Abingdon account. A Durham writer, thirsting for vengeance, might very well use it in spite of the results accomplished by Robert’s peaceful negotiations. William of Malmesbury uses very similar language of the expedition of William Rufus eleven years later: “Statimque primo contra Walenses, post in Scottos expeditionem movens, nihil magnificentia sua dignum exhibuit.” _G. R._, ii, p. 365. The Abingdon account is circumstantial, and the presence of the abbot indicates a sure source of information, though perhaps a biassed one. [63] Simeon, _H. R._, p. 211. [64] _Chronicon de Abingdon_, ii, p. 10. [65] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 135, 140; cf. _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, no. 411, a charter of 1078-83, perhaps of 1081. [66] _Supra_, p. 14. [67] On the date (September-October 1076) see Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 182; Prou, _Actes de Philippe Iᵉʳ_, nos. 83, 84; _Annales dites de Renaud_, in _Recueil d’annales angevines et vendômoises_, ed. Louis Halphen (Paris, 1903), p. 88. [68] _Ibid._ On the Norman siege of Dol in general see Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, pp. 271-272. [69] Ordericus, ii, p. 256. [70] “Turbulentis tempestatibus, quas a Cenomannensibus et Normannis permotas esse diximus, fomes (ut ferunt) et causa fuit Rodbertus regis filius.” _Ibid._, p. 294; cf. p. 297. [71] Halphen, relying upon the _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, has assigned Fulk’s first attack upon La Flèche to 1076, suggesting that Fulk launched it while the Conqueror was engaged in the north at the siege of Dol. _Anjou_, pp. 182-183. These conclusions, however, seem too dogmatic. There is no evidence which indicates a connection between the attack upon La Flèche and the king’s Breton enterprise; and it seems hardly likely that Fulk would have entered upon an undertaking against La Flèche which proved beyond his powers, while he was also operating against the Conqueror in Brittany. Further, the date 1076 from the _Annales de Saint-Aubin_ (Halphen, _Annales_, p. 5) is not to be relied upon: because (1) the numeral “mlxxvi” is entered twice in the MS., the entry concerning La Flèche being the second of the two, and no such repetition appears elsewhere in these annals. We are, therefore, forewarned of a scribal error. And (2) the probability of such an error is made stronger by the fact that MSS. C, A, and B all read “mlxxvii,” while the _Annales de Saint-Florent_ (_ibid._, p. 119) read “mlxxviii.” Having no other chronological data than are furnished by these meagre and uncertain annals, it is impossible to fix the date of the first attack upon La Flèche. It may have taken place in 1076, 1077, or 1078. On the whole, one of the later dates seems more probable than 1076, in view of the vague indications of some connection with Robert’s rebellion (_supra_, n. 70), and in view of the fact that Fulk was involved in Breton affairs in 1076. [72] Ordericus, ii, p. 256. Ordericus says that Fulk had the support of Hoël, duke of Brittany; but his narrative is confused—he apparently puts together the first and second sieges of La Flèche and treats them as one—and it is impossible to say whether Breton aid was given during Fulk’s first or second expedition. [73] “Blessé grièvement à la jambe, à la suite d’un accident de cheval, et quittant le siège de la Flèche pour se faire transporter par eau à Angers.” Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 311, no. 233—from an eighteenth century copy of an undated notice in the cartulary of Saint-Nicolas of Angers. [74] “Eo tempore quo Willelmus rex Anglorum cum Fulcone Andegavensi comite iuxta castellum Vallium treviam accepit.” _Cartulaire de Saint-Vincent_, no. 99. The document is undated, but it is witnessed by Abbot William of Saint-Vincent, who was appointed bishop of Durham 5 November 1080 and consecrated 3 January 1081. The ‘trevia’ of this document, therefore, cannot refer to the treaty of La Bruère (1081) and it seems probable that it refers to a truce concluded after the failure of the first attack upon La Flèche. [75] “MLXXXI… Fulcho Rechim castrum Fisse cepit et succendit.” _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, in Halphen, _Annales_ p. 5. “MLXXXI. In hoc anno … comes Andecavorum Fulcho iunior obsedit castrum quoddam quod Fissa Iohannis dicitur atque cepit necnon succendit.” _Annales dites de Renaud_, _ibid._, p. 88. Ordericus Vitalis does not admit that La Flèche was taken, doubtless because of the confusion which he makes between the two sieges. Ordericus, ii, p. 256. [76] On the exaggeration of numbers by mediaeval chroniclers, see J. H. Ramsay, “Chroniclers’ Estimates of Numbers and Official Records,” in _E. H. R._, xviii (1903), pp. 625-629; and cf. the same, “The Strength of English Armies in the Middle Ages,” _ibid._, xxix (1914), pp. 221-227. [77] Ordericus (ii, pp. 256-257) has given a spirited account; but he manifestly wrote without any clear conception of the geographical or topographical setting of the proposed engagement, and all efforts to render his account intelligible have proved in vain. For a discussion of the problems involved and of the conjectures which have been made, see Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 184. [78] Freeman conjectures that this is the “ubiquitous Hubert,” cardinal legate of Gregory VII. _Norman Conquest_, iv, p. 562. [79] Ordericus, ii, pp. 257-258. [80] “Qui et ipse a Fulcone bello lacessitus, obsidibus pacis pro fide datis fratre suo, consule videlicet Mauritanie, et filio suo et multis aliis, recessit.” Halphen, _Annales_, p. 88. [81] “Haec nimirum pax, quae inter regem et praefatum comitem in loco, qui vulgo Blancalanda vel Brueria dicitur, facta est, omni vita regis ad profectum utriusque provinciae permansit.” Ordericus, ii, p. 258. [82] Halphen, _Anjou_, pp. 185-186; Latouche, _Maine_, p. 79. [83] Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 186; Latouche, _Maine_, p. 39. [84] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 145, 146; cf. nos. 149, 150, 158. [85] _Ibid._, no. 147. [86] _Ibid._, no. 182. He also attests with the king, queen, and William Rufus, in 1083, a charter in favor of Saint-Julien of Tours. _Chartes de S.-Julien de Tours_, no. 37. Davis cites a “confirmation by William I” in favor of the abbey of Lessay, which is attested by Robert, along with King William, Bishop Odo of Bayeux, Henry “the king’s son,” and others, and which he assigns to 1084, remarking, “The appearance of Bishop Odo is strange, considering that he was at this time in captivity.” _Regesta_, no. 199. It cannot, of course, be supposed that the Conqueror really gave a confirmation in company with Odo of Bayeux while he was holding the latter in close confinement as a most bitter and dangerous enemy; and some other explanation of the apparent inconsistency must be found. A glance at the document as printed in full in _Gallia Christiana_ (xi, instr., cols. 228-229) makes it clear that we have to do here not with a single diploma of known date, but rather with a list of notices of gifts. At the head of the list stands the record of a grant by Roger d’Aubigny, dated 1084, and accompanied by a list of witnesses. Then follow no less than six separate notices of grants, each with its own witnesses; and finally come the attestations of King William, Bishop Odo, Henry the king’s son, Count Robert, and others. There is no reason to suppose that these attestations are of the year 1084—a date which applies certainly only to the first grant in the list—and they are evidently of a later period, perhaps of the year 1091, when the abbey of Lessay might naturally seek a confirmation from the three brothers after the pacification which followed the siege of Mont-Saint-Michel. The king in question, therefore, is probably William Rufus rather than the Conqueror. The style of Henry “filii regis” is certainly surprising, but it can be matched in another document, also probably of the year 1091. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 320; cf. The New Palaeographical Society, _Facsimiles of Ancient Manuscripts_, etc. (London, 1903-), 1st series, pt. 2, plate 45_a_ and text. [87] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 265, 267-268; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 332; Ordericus, iii, p. 268. [88] “Serenitas pacis diu quaesitae inter regem et filium eius celeriter obnubilata est. Protervus enim iuvenis patrem sequi, vel ei obedire dedignatus est. Animosus vero princeps ob ignaviam eius crebris eum redargutionibus et conviciis palam iniuriatus est. Unde denuo post aliquod tempus, paucis sodalibus fretus, a patre recessit, nec postea rediit; donec pater moriens Albericum comitem, ut ducatum Neustriae reciperet, in Galliam ad eum direxit.” Ordericus, ii, p. 390. [89] _Ibid._, p. 380. [90] Robert appears in no reliable charter between the queen’s death and his own accession to the duchy. [91] Because of the extended period during which he is not to be found in the charters, and because Ordericus (ii, p. 381) speaks of his being in exile “ferme quinque annis.” Cf. _supra_, n. 12. [92] Ordericus, ii, p. 381. [93] “Robertus, patre adhuc vivente, Normanniam sibi negari aegre ferens, in Italiam obstinatus abiit, ut, filia Bonifacii marchionis sumpta, patri partibus illis adiutus adversaretur: sed, petitionis huiusce cassus, Philippum Francorum regem contra patriam excitavit.” William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 332. [94] “Porro ille, quae ab amicis liberalibus ad subsidium sui accipiebat, histrionibus et parasitis ac meretricibus insipienter distribuebat; quibus improvide distractis, egestate gravi compressus mendicabat, et aes alienum ab externis foeneratoribus exul egenus quaeritabat.” Ordericus, ii, p. 382. Ordericus reserves his worst criticisms for Robert’s later life, but doubtless the moral decay set in early. Cf. _ibid._, iv, pp. 105-106. [95] _Ibid._, iv, pp. 81-82. The author embellishes his account with a further tale of how the boys were brought up in obscurity by their mother, who in later years took them to Robert, then become duke, and proved their parentage by undergoing the ordeal of hot iron. [96] Ordericus, iv, p. 82; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 45; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 333. [97] Ordericus, ii, p. 82. [98] _Ibid._, iii, p. 320. [99] _Ibid._, ii, p. 390; iii, p. 228; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 338. [100] It is clear that the war grew out of the inevitable antagonism between the interests of the two monarchs, and particularly out of the determination on King William’s part to reassert the Norman claim to the Vexin. Ordericus, iii, pp. 222-225. As to the immediate provocation, Ordericus explains that the Conqueror’s attack upon Mantes was in retaliation for predatory incursions which certain lawless inhabitants of the city had been making across the border into Normandy (_ibid._, p. 222); William of Malmesbury attributes it to an insulting jest which Philip had made about William’s obesity (_G. R._, ii, p. 336); while Robert of Torigny ascribes it to the aid which Philip had been giving Robert Curthose against his father (_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 265). [101] Ordericus, iii, pp. 222-226; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 336; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1086; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 20; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 265. [102] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 332, 338; Ordericus, iii, p. 228; cf. _Chronicon_ in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 298. Robert of Torigny is more specific: “Cum igitur in Pontivo apud Abbatisvillam, cum sui similibus iuvenibus, filiis scilicet satraparum Normanniae, qui ei, quasi suo domino futuro, specie tenus obsequebantur, re autem vera novarum rerum cupiditate illecti, moraretur et ducatum Normanniae, maxime in margine, excursionibus et rapinis demoliretur.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268. [103] This is the plain inference from Ordericus, iii, p. 242; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 332,337; _De Obitu Willelmi_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 146-147. [104] That is, (1) before the Conquest (_supra_, p. 12), (2) after the Conquest on the occasion of the king’s illness at Bonneville (_supra_, p. 15), (3) at the reconciliation after the siege of Gerberoy (_supra_, p. 29). Cf. also the charter of Stigand de Mézidon, 1063, in Le Prévost, _Eure_, i, p. 562. [105] Ordericus, iii, pp. 239, 242-243. [106] _Ibid._, p. 242. [107] _De Obitu Willelmi_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 146-147. [108] That Maine was included is clear from the fact that Robert’s right to rule there was not questioned. Wace, too, is specific: E quant Guilleme trespassa, Al duc Robert le Mans laissa. _Roman de Rou_, ed. Hugo Andresen (Heilbronn, 1877-79), ii, p. 416. The _Annales de Wintonia_ are clearly wrong in stating that the Conqueror left Maine to Henry. _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 35. [109] Ordericus, ii, p. 390: “pater moriens Albericum comitem, ut ducatum Neustriae reciperet, in Galliam ad eum direxit”; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268. [110] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 338. [111] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 265. CHAPTER III INDEPENDENT RULE, 1087-95 While William Rufus was hurrying to England to claim the royal crown, and the young Prince Henry was piously attending his father’s funeral at Caen, Robert Curthose, hearing the news of the Conqueror’s death, hastily returned from his long exile, and upon arriving at Rouen took possession of his inheritance without encountering any opposition.[1] At last the duchy of Normandy and the county of Maine, so long denied him by his imperious father, were within his grasp. No doubt the news of the king’s death was very welcome to the incorrigible exile; yet it is pleasant to learn that Robert, upon entering into his inheritance, was not neglectful of filial duty toward his father’s memory or of those charitable acts which were regarded as necessary for the weal of the departed soul. The Conqueror upon his deathbed had made provision for the distribution of his treasures[2] and for the release of prisoners from his gaols.[3] These dispositions the duke was careful to carry out, making bounteous distribution of such treasure as he found to monasteries and churches and to the poor; while two captives of royal descent—Wulf, son of King Harold, and Duncan, son of King Malcolm—he not only allowed to go their way in peace, but honored with the arms of knighthood.[4] Filial piety and the chivalrous impulses of Robert Curthose were never more happily united. Some of the rare charters of the duke’s early reign are also indicative of a similar spirit. Thus we find him confirming to Saint-Étienne of Caen a grant of the manor of Vains which the Conqueror had made during his last illness.[5] Perhaps not quite the same motive, though assuredly no spirit of rancor, led him on 7 July 1088 to restore to La Trinité of Fécamp the lands which his father had taken away in his wrath.[6] The news of the Conqueror’s death spread with incredible swiftness,[7] and the new duke can hardly have reached Rouen before a new era (_nimia rerum mutatio_) had dawned in Normandy.[8] The days of stern government, of enforced peace, of castles garrisoned and controlled by the duke had passed—at least until Normandy should again be brought under the heavy hand of an English king. Robert of Bellême was on his way to the royal bedside, and had got as far as Brionne, when the news of the king’s death reached him. Instantly he wheeled his horse, and, galloping back to Alençon, he took the royal garrison by surprise, drove it out, and established his own retainers in the castle. Then, pressing on, he repeated this performance at Bellême and at other of his strongholds. He also turned upon his weaker neighbors, and either expelled their garrisons and installed his own troops in their stead, or razed their castles to the ground in order that none might stand against him. So, too, William of Évreux, William of Breteuil, Ralph of Conches, and other lords—most of them old friends and supporters of Robert Curthose in rebellious days—expelled the garrisons of King William from their fortresses and took them into their own hands.[9] Already the stage was set for the private warfare, the pillage, and the harrying that were to reduce Normandy to the verge of chaos. The monk of Saint-Évroul, whose house was unfortunately located amid the very worst dens of iniquity, sends up a wail of lamentation. Robert was duke of Normandy and prince of the Manceaux in name, indeed; but so sunk was he in sloth and idleness that his government knew neither virtue nor justice.[10] But to these things it will be necessary to recur in another connection. It was, in any event, clear from the beginning that the barons were to enjoy a position of influence, independence, and power under the new régime such as had been denied them by the Conqueror. For some four years before the death of the late king, Bishop Odo of Bayeux had been held a royal prisoner in the castle of Rouen. Very reluctantly had the Conqueror, as he lay upon his deathbed, been prevailed upon to release him.[11] But under the new duke the fortunes of the bishop again rose rapidly. Not only did he enjoy freedom, but all his former possessions and honors in Normandy were restored to him, and he took his place among the duke’s chief counsellors.[12] Soon afterwards he crossed over to England, and was reëstablished in his former earldom of Kent.[13] And then, with vaulting ambition, he began to plot the overthrow of William Rufus and the reuniting of England and Normandy under the rule of Robert Curthose. The position of Odo of Bayeux, with his broad holdings and honors on both sides of the Channel, was typical of that of many of the Anglo-Norman barons. They had been held by William the Conqueror under a tight rein, but at least they had had a single master. Now, however, the two realms were divided, and the service of two lords presented grave inconveniences. “If we do our duty to Robert, the duke of Normandy,” they said, “we shall offend his brother William, and so lose our great revenues and high honors in England. On the other hand, if we keep our fealty to King William, Duke Robert will take from us our patrimonial estates in Normandy.”[14] Further, the accession of two young and inexperienced princes, after the stern rule and rigorous repression of the preceding reign, offered a peculiarly tempting opportunity for rebellion. And as between the two princes, there could be little doubt on which side the support of most of the barons would be thrown. Robert was affable, mild, and pliable—for the turbulent nobles of the eleventh century such a ruler as they most desired. William, on the other hand, was arrogant and terrible and likely to be a harsh, unbending master. Moreover, Robert, as the eldest son, was deemed to have the better right.[15] William Rufus had gained the kingdom largely by virtue of his own decisive action and the support of Archbishop Lanfranc. Though publicly acknowledged, his tenure of the English crown was by no means unreservedly accepted by the baronage in England.[16] Accordingly, late in 1087, or more probably early in the spring of 1088,[17] a conspiracy with wide ramifications was formed for his overthrow and for the transfer of the kingdom to Robert Curthose. “In this year,” says the Chronicler, “this land was much disturbed and filled with great treason, so that the most powerful Frenchmen that were in this land would betray their lord the king, and would have for king his brother Robert who was count of Normandy.”[18] The beginnings of this treasonable enterprise are obscure, and it is impossible to say with certainty on which side of the Channel the plot was hatched.[19] Bishop Odo of Bayeux was unquestionably its prime mover, and of his activities we have some knowledge. Having risen to honor and power in Normandy, he had crossed over to England before the end of 1087 and was in attendance at the king’s Christmas court,[20] apparently in the full enjoyment of his English earldom.[21] But he may even then have been contemplating treason. Certainly the inception of the great conspiracy both in England and in Normandy can hardly have been delayed long afterwards. During the early spring secret negotiations were active, and frequent messages must have been exchanged between England and the Continent.[22] One after another the great nobles and prelates were won over. Even William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, who had been raised by William Rufus to the position of chief trust in the kingdom, was widely believed to have joined the conspiracy.[23] Before the close of Lent[24] the greater part of the Anglo-Norman baronage had strengthened the defences of their castles and broken into open revolt. The rebellion extended from the south coast to Northumberland and from East Anglia to the Welsh border.[25] But the centre and heart of the movement, so far, at any rate, as it concerns the life of Robert Curthose, lay in the southeast of England, where Bishop Odo and his immediate supporters had established themselves in strategic positions in the strongholds of Rochester[26] and Pevensey.[27] Duke Robert’s connection with the great rebellion of 1088 in its early stages is by no means clear. According to one of the later writers, upon learning that his brother had gone to England to claim the royal crown, Robert had sworn a great oath by the angels of God, declaring that though he were in distant Alexandria, the English would await his coming and make him king.[28] Actually, however, he seems to have reconciled himself to the accomplished fact,[29] and not to have contemplated an attack upon England until the barons, taking the initiative, informed him of their plan for the overthrow of William Rufus.[30] Upon hearing this good news, however, he promptly approved the project and promised the conspirators every possible aid and support.[31] As an earnest of his intention, he sent Eustace of Boulogne and Robert of Bellême with their retainers on in advance to England, where they were installed by Bishop Odo in the great fortress of Rochester. Meanwhile, he undertook to collect a fleet and to prepare for an invasion in force.[32] But the levy and equipment of an expedition for a second Norman conquest of England was an undertaking for which the resources of the duke were little able to provide. Careless, prodigal, incurably fond of good living, Robert was by nature impecunious. The unsettling transformation that had come over the duchy upon his accession was little likely to recruit his financial resources. The sudden increase in the power and independence of the nobility, the disturbed state of the country, the lavish grant of emoluments to all who asked, the charitable distribution of the Conqueror’s treasure to religious houses, all these things inevitably depleted the ducal resources. And further, under the terms of the late king’s will, 5000 livres had been paid out to make provision for Prince Henry.[33] As compared with Robert, who had squandered his treasure in reckless extravagance, Prince Henry enjoyed a certain opulence. Pious attendance at the Conqueror’s obsequies had not prevented his having his treasure weighed out to the last farthing, “in order that nothing should be lacking,” and putting it in a place of security among friends upon whom he could rely.[34] Without land which he could call his own, and placed in a somewhat difficult position between the rival interests of his brothers, he had stood carefully upon his guard, frugally husbanding his resources, and holding himself in readiness to take sides with either of his brothers, or with neither, as his own interests should decide.[35] He was more drawn to Robert, however, because of his mildness and good nature,[36] and for a time he remained with him in Normandy.[37] To Henry, accordingly, Robert appealed in 1088 for funds to be used in the invasion of England. But gifts without reward Henry would not give. Soon, however, fresh messengers from the duke brought the welcome news that Robert was willing to sell him a part of his lands; whereupon Henry became more pliable, and a bargain was soon struck. For 3000 livres the duke handed over to him the whole of the Cotentin, Avranches, and Mont-Saint-Michel, together with the great Norman lordship of Earl Hugh of Chester.[38] Thus Robert obtained a supply of ready cash to equip his forces for the invasion of England, though at the expense of alienating a part of his birthright. This was but the beginning of a policy of short-sighted expedients in lieu of effective government, which in the end was to prove fatal to his rule. Meanwhile, the rebellion had taken a course which was disastrous for Robert’s cause in England. William Rufus, finding that the greater part of the Anglo-Norman baronage had deserted him, turned for support to his native English subjects, and his appeal to them was not made in vain.[39] Gathering together such forces as he could, he marched straight upon Tunbridge and took the place by storm. Then he pushed on towards Rochester, expecting to find Odo of Bayeux and the main body of the rebel forces. But the bishop had learned of his coming and had slipped out of Rochester and gone to Pevensey, where he joined Robert of Mortain in the defence of the castle, while they awaited the arrival of Robert Curthose with the expedition from Normandy. But the king was informed of the bishop’s movement, and, abandoning his proposed attack upon Rochester, he marched southward upon Pevensey and began a protracted siege of the castle.[40] Meanwhile, the long expected fleet from Normandy did not appear. One writer complains that the duke dallied away his time with amusements ill befitting a man.[41] Indeed, so widespread was the English rebellion that the kingdom appeared to be almost within his grasp, if only he had bestirred himself to seize it.[42] Yet with William Rufus loyally supported by an English army and pushing his campaign with the utmost vigor, everything depended upon the promptness with which the duke could land troops in England to support the rebels. It was doubtless the knowledge of this pressing need which induced Robert to send forward a part of his forces in advance, while he himself remained in Normandy to make more extended preparations.[43] But the vanguard of the ducal fleet met with a disaster which proved fatal to the whole insurrectionary movement. While William Rufus himself maintained a close investment of Pevensey, he had sent his ships to sea to ward off the threatened attack. And as the Norman fleet approached the English coast, the rival forces joined in battle, and the invaders were overwhelmingly defeated. To add to the catastrophe, a sudden calm cut off every possibility of escape to the Norman forces. According to contemporary writers the multitude that perished was beyond all reckoning.[44] Disaster followed hard upon disaster. Bishop Odo, the count of Mortain, and the garrison of Pevensey were reduced by starvation and obliged to surrender after a six weeks’ resistance.[45] The bishop gave himself up, and solemnly promised upon oath to procure the surrender of Rochester and then depart the kingdom forever. Upon this understanding the king, suspecting no ruse or bad faith, sent him off with a small force to receive the submission of Rochester. But the great fortress, the chief stronghold of the rebels in southeastern England, was held by a strong garrison and able leaders whom the duke had sent from Normandy,[46] such warriors as Eustace of Boulogne and Robert of Bellême and two of his brothers, men of intrepid courage, who were unwilling to admit the hopelessness of their cause. And when Odo appeared before the castle with the royal troops and summoned them to surrender, they suddenly sallied forth, seized both the bishop and his captors, and carried the whole party within the walls.[47] Outwitted by this clever ruse, the king was again obliged to summon his English supporters[48] and lay siege to Rochester. But still no reënforcements arrived from Normandy, and again the royal arms enjoyed a triumph. The defenders of Rochester were obliged to surrender;[49] and the traitor bishop was now at last deprived of all his revenues and honors in England and driven over sea forever.[50] Doubtless other rebels were sent into exile with him.[51] But William Rufus with politic foresight tempered his animosity against many and admitted them to reconciliation.[52] With the destruction of Duke Robert’s fleet, the reduction of Pevensey and Rochester, and the expulsion of Odo of Bayeux from England, the force of the rebellion had been broken. Whatever plans the duke may have had to follow with a greater fleet were perforce abandoned. Through his own weakness and procrastination, coupled with the vigor and resourcefulness of William Rufus and the loyalty of the native English, the attempt to place Robert Curthose upon the throne of England, at one time so promising, had ended in utter failure. But Robert’s failure did not end the hostility between the two brothers. No peace negotiations intervened. William Rufus continued to nurse his indignation and to thirst for vengeance. He professed to fear some further mischief from the duke.[53] Robert, too, remained suspicious and apprehensive. Prince Henry, learning of the fall of Rochester, and eager to conciliate the victor, had hastened across the Channel to visit the king and crave from him “the lands of his mother” to which he laid claim.[54] The duke regarded this move with little favor; and when, soon after,[55] Henry had accomplished his mission and was returning to Normandy in company with Robert of Bellême, who had also been reconciled with William Rufus, the duke had him seized at the landing and placed in custody. Malicious enemies, we are told, had poisoned the duke’s mind with the belief that Henry and Robert of Bellême had not only made their peace with the king, but had entered into a sworn agreement to his own hurt.[56] Henry was released from prison some six months later, at the solicitation of the Norman barons,[57] and the incident is not, perhaps, of great importance—for, if Henry and the king had arrived at any understanding, it must have been of short duration—yet it serves to illustrate the strained relations which continued to exist between Robert Curthose and William Rufus. Meanwhile, the king, at last secure in his possession of the English throne, began to develop plans for taking vengeance upon the duke. If we can rely upon the unsupported statement of Ordericus Vitalis in such a matter, he held a formal assembly of his barons at Winchester, apparently in 1089,[58] and laid before them proposals for an attack upon Normandy. He harangued the assembled magnates upon the faithless conduct of his brother and upon the state of unchecked anarchy into which he had allowed his duchy to fall. The whole country, he declared, had become a prey to thieves and robbers, and the lamentations of the clergy had reached him from beyond the sea. It behooved him, therefore, as the son of his father, to send to Normandy for the succor of holy church, for the protection of widows and orphans, and for the just punishment of plunderers and assassins. Upon being asked their advice, the assembled nobles promptly approved the king’s project.[59] Perhaps some of the quondam rebels reasoned that, since the two realms could not be reunited under the weak and pliable Robert, it would still be worth their while to attempt to bring about the desired union under his more masterful brother.[60] The king’s plan evidently did not involve immediate open war upon Robert Curthose. It was not the way of William Rufus to attempt upon the field of battle that which might more expeditiously be accomplished through diplomacy. This was a form of attack which the impoverished duke was little qualified to combat. Choosing as the field of his activities the Norman lands lying north and east of the Seine, William Rufus began by winning over by bribery the garrison of Saint-Valery at the mouth of the Somme, thus gaining a strong castle and a commodious seaport in a position most advantageously located for the further prosecution of his design. It must have been at about the same time that Stephen of Aumale yielded to the same golden argument, and opened the gates of his stronghold to the soldiers of King William. From these convenient bases plundering raids were then carried into the surrounding country.[61] Soon the contagion spread farther. Gerard of Gournay placed his castles of Gournay, La Ferté-en-Bray, and Gaillefontaine at the disposal of the king, and actively devoted himself to the promotion of the English cause among his neighbors. His example was promptly followed by Robert of Eu and Walter Giffard, lord of Longueville, and by Ralph of Mortemer. In short, by an effective blending of bribery and diplomacy, William Rufus had succeeded in detaching the greater part of the Norman nobles dwelling upon the right bank of the Seine from their allegiance to the duke.[62] The single notable exception appears to have been Helias of Saint-Saëns, to whom Robert had given his illegitimate daughter, and with her the castles of Arques and Bures and their appurtenant lands as a marriage portion. Firmly establishing his son-in-law at Saint-Saëns, Arques, and Bures, the duke intended that he should stand as a counterpoise to the rapidly growing English influence east of the Seine.[63] And his expectations were not disappointed. Through every adversity, Helias of Saint-Saëns remained staunchly loyal to the cause of Robert Curthose and of his son, long after the final triumph of Henry I at Tinchebray. Of other measures taken by the duke to combat the insidious aggression of his more resourceful rival, we have only the most fragmentary knowledge. From one of Robert’s charters, it appears that he besieged and captured the castle of Eu in 1089.[64] This, it seems not improbable, was one of his early and successful efforts against the Norman traitors and their English ally. We know, too, that in his extreme need he appealed to his overlord, the king of France. Yet here again our information is discouragingly fragmentary. Of the relations between the duke and his overlord after the death of William the Conqueror we know nothing except that on 24 April 1089 Robert was at Vernon on the Seine frontier, engaged in some sort of hostile enterprise against France.[65] Certain it is, however, that before the close of this year he had sought and obtained the aid of King Philip against his Anglo-Norman enemies in the lands east of the Seine.[66] Together they laid siege to La Ferté-en-Bray,[67] the castle of Gerard of Gournay. But again the golden diplomacy of William Rufus proved more than a match for the vanishing resources of the duke. “No small quantity of money having been transmitted secretly to King Philip,” he was readily induced to abandon the siege and return home.[68] In 1090 difficulties continued to multiply around Duke Robert. In the city of Rouen itself William Rufus had contrived through bribery to gain a following, and had set himself to promote civic discord as a means of undermining the duke’s authority.[69] In November 1090 a factional conflict broke out in Rouen between two parties of the burghers, the _Pilatenses_ and _Calloenses_. Of the latter we know no more than that they were the supporters of the duke and that they were the weaker of the two factions.[70] The _Pilatenses_ were ably led by a certain Conan, son of Gilbert Pilatus, described as the wealthiest citizen of Rouen. His great riches enabled him to maintain a large household of retainers in opposition to the duke and to draw into his faction the greater part of the citizens. As a further resource, Conan had covenanted with William Rufus to deliver up to him the city. An insurrection was planned to take place on 3 November; and at the appointed hour the king’s hirelings were to come from Gournay and other neighboring fortresses to support the rising. Some of the king’s adherents had already secretly been brought within the walls, ready to join the rebels at the appointed moment.[71] The duke learned late of the events that were impending and had barely time to call up reënforcements. Hasty summonses were sent to William of Évreux, Robert of Bellême, William of Breteuil, and Gilbert of Laigle. More important still, Prince Henry was induced to forget past wrongs and come to the duke’s assistance in this hour of need. These measures were taken barely in time to avert a disaster. Henry, apparently, was already within the city before the outbreak; but as Gilbert of Laigle with a troop of horse galloped across the bridge over the Seine and entered Rouen from the south, Reginald of Warenne with three hundred supporters of William Rufus was already battering at the western gate. Meanwhile, within the city the insurrection had broken out amid scenes of wild confusion. Robert and Henry issued from the citadel and began to attack the rebels upon front and rear. Robert was personally brave and a sturdy fighter, and on later occasions he proved himself an excellent leader in emergencies. But in the wild confusion and uncertainties of the Rouen insurrection, his friends became alarmed lest some serious mishap should befall him, and persuaded him to retire to a place of safety and not expose himself to such grave perils until the issue of the conflict should be decided. Accordingly, he withdrew by the eastern gate into the Faubourg Malpalu, and, there taking a boat across the Seine to Émendreville, he found shelter in the priory of Notre-Dame-du-Pré.[72] Meanwhile, within the city, Henry and Gilbert of Laigle and their supporters put down the insurrection with a great slaughter of the inhabitants. Conan and many other rebels were captured, and the hirelings of William Rufus were obliged to withdraw in confusion and seek the shelter of a neighboring wood, until under the cover of darkness they were able to make good their escape. With the triumph of his forces, the duke returned to the city, and, with his habitual mildness, was for throwing Conan into a dungeon and showing clemency to the rest of the rebels. But his barons had other views, and insisted upon taking a savage vengeance upon the burghers who had been involved in the treason. William, son of Ansger, one of the richest men in the city, was led away into captivity by William of Breteuil and held for a ransom of 3000 livres. As for Conan, the archtraitor, Prince Henry craved leave of the duke to dispose of him in his own way. Taking him up to the upper story of the tower of Rouen, where a window commanded a view of the surrounding country, he called upon the wretch to view the beauties of the landscape as it stretched away across the Seine; and then, swearing by the soul of his mother that a traitor should not be admitted to ransom, he thrust him backwards through the window. The place, says Ordericus Vitalis, is known as Conan’s Leap “unto this day.”[73] The failure of William Rufus to overthrow the authority of Robert Curthose in Rouen by stirring up an insurrection did not put a check upon his ambitious projects elsewhere. In this same month of November 1090 private war broke out between William of Évreux and Ralph of Conches. The latter appealed to the duke for aid, but got no encouragement; whereupon he turned to William Rufus, and found him altogether too alert to let slip so good an opportunity of extending his influence. The king promptly directed his Norman allies, Stephen of Aumale and Gerard of Gournay, to send reinforcements to Conches.[74] And so the English sphere of influence was extended to the left bank of the Seine. But William Rufus was now preparing for more direct action against the waning power of the duke. By long and patient diplomacy, coupled with a liberal expenditure of English treasure, he had succeeded in undermining his authority in a large portion of the duchy. At the close of January, or early in February 1091[75] he himself crossed to Normandy with a considerable fleet and established his headquarters at Eu.[76] The news of the king’s landing came like a thunderclap to the duke, who at the moment was engaged with Robert of Bellême in the siege of Courcy. The siege was immediately abandoned, but the barons, instead of standing with their own ruler against the invader, departed each to his own castle; and presently “almost all the great lords of Normandy” began paying their court to William Rufus, who received them with great cordiality and gave them handsome presents. But the movement in support of the English king was not confined to the barons of Normandy alone. Adventurers from Brittany, France, and Flanders also gathered at Eu to swell the royal forces.[77] Again, as in 1089, Robert in his extreme need appealed to his overlord, the king of France. And again King Philip responded to his call; and together they marched against the invaders at Eu.[78] But apparently there was no serious fighting. Whether William Rufus again contrived to weaken the king’s determination, as he had done on a similar occasion at La Ferté, with a fresh supply of English gold, we have no knowledge. In any case, a peace[79] was soon negotiated between the brothers, apparently at Rouen[80] during the month of February.[81] The sources are not in complete accord as to the terms of this pacification; but they seem to be mutually supplementary rather than contradictory. Apparently William Rufus smoothed the way for the negotiations with _ingentia dona_[82]—it always seems to have been beyond the power of Robert Curthose to resist the temptation of such ephemeral advantages—but it was the duke who made the fatal concessions. He gave up the abbey of Fécamp,[83] the counties of Eu and Aumale,[84] and the lands of Gerard of Gournay and Ralph of Conches, together with their strongholds (_municipia_) and the strongholds of their vassals (_subjecti_)[85]—in a word, all the lands which the king had won from the duke and had occupied with his adherents on both banks of the Seine in eastern Normandy.[86] Further, in the west the king was to have the important seaport of Cherbourg and the great abbey stronghold of Mont-Saint-Michel,[87] concessions which looked ominous for Henry, count of the Cotentin. On his side, William Rufus pledged himself to help Robert recover the county of Maine,[88] then in revolt against Norman rule, and all Norman lands which the Conqueror had ever held and whose lords were then resisting the duke’s authority, except, of course, the lands just noted which by the terms of the present treaty were ceded to the king.[89] For the benefit of the barons on both sides who had treasonably supported the king or the duke in their recent quarrels, a general amnesty was added. The Norman barons whose defection had brought about the duke’s downfall and whose allegiance was now being transferred to the king, were to occupy their Norman fiefs in peace and to be held guiltless. And all the nobles who had been deprived of their English lands for supporting the duke were now to receive them back.[90] Further, an attempt was made to forestall a possible succession controversy by providing that if either of the brothers should die without a son born in lawful wedlock, the survivor should become sole heir of all his dominions.[91] And finally, in order to give the treaty the most solemn and binding character, it was formally confirmed by the oaths of twelve great barons on behalf of the king and of an equal number on behalf of the duke.[92] It may, perhaps, be doubted whether William Rufus seriously intended to exert himself to carry out the provisions of this treaty, except in so far as his own interests dictated; although William of Malmesbury affirms that the king and the duke in pursuance of their agreement immediately took in hand the preparation of an expedition against Maine, and were only turned back from it by the disconcerting action of their younger brother, Prince Henry.[93] The details of Henry’s movements after the death of the Conqueror are obscure and uncertain, though the main lines of his policy and conduct seem clear enough. His relations had not been uniformly harmonious with either of his brothers. As has already been pointed out, his early friendship with the duke and his acquisition of the Cotentin had been followed by a period of imprisonment.[94] Apparently, too, Duke Robert, after he had squandered the money which he had obtained from Henry in exchange for the Cotentin, had endeavored to dispossess the young prince of the lands he had granted him, and had only been prevented from so doing by a show of force.[95] It was only a temporary reconciliation which had gained for the duke the important services of Henry during the insurrection at Rouen in November 1090. Fresh misunderstandings soon followed, and Henry was again obliged to retire to his lands in the Cotentin,[96] where he gained the warm friendship of his father’s old vassals, Hugh of Avranches and Richard de Redvers, and devoted himself with energy to the strengthening of his castles at Avranches, Cherbourg, Coutances, and Gavray.[97] With William Rufus, too, he had a quarrel of long standing. The early hopes raised by his visit to the king after the fall of Rochester in 1088[98] had not been fulfilled. The English lands of Matilda to which he laid claim had been granted to Robert Fitz Hamon, and he had been able to obtain no redress.[99] It was even said that he had assisted the duke at Rouen out of a desire for vengeance upon the king.[100] Finally, the treaty of peace which William and Robert had recently concluded was manifestly aimed directly against him. They had planned between themselves for an exclusive partition of all the Conqueror’s dominions, and for a recovery of ducal authority at all points where it was being defied. That obviously meant, among other places, in the Cotentin; and the clauses ceding Mont-Saint-Michel and Cherbourg to William Rufus were not likely to remain a dead letter. Henry realized the menace and protested vigorously against the injustice of a plan to deprive him of all share in the dominions of his glorious father.[101] He collected troops wherever he could find them in Brittany or Normandy, reënforced the defences of Coutances and Avranches with feverish energy, and prepared for war.[102] Whatever the original destination of the expedition which the duke and the king had prepared, they suddenly turned it against their obstreperous brother who was presuming to resist them, and soon drove him to the last extremity.[103] Henry’s resistance was a forlorn hope from the beginning. Hugh of Avranches and other nobles who had previously been his enthusiastic supporters against the duke, but who had important holdings across the Channel, now prudently reflected that it would be unwise to incur the wrath of William Rufus, and in view of the meagreness of Henry’s resources they discreetly surrendered their strongholds.[104] Thus deserted and overwhelmed on every side, Henry was driven from the mainland; but by favor of some of the monks[105] he gained entrance to the monastery of Mont-Saint-Michel, and there in the famous abbey fortress he determined to make a last stand. For two weeks, about the middle of Lent,[106] William Rufus and Robert Curthose besieged him.[107] Stretching their forces about the bay of Mont-Saint-Michel from Genêts on the north past Ardevon to the Couesnon on the south, they completely invested the Mount upon the landward side, and, as Henry was without naval resources, this constituted an effective blockade. The duke had his headquarters at Genêts, while the king established himself at Avranches.[108] The scene was enlivened from day to day by the knightly joustings of the opposing forces upon the sandy beach.[109] William Rufus himself was once engaged in these feats of arms to his grave humiliation, being unhorsed by a simple knight.[110] Meanwhile, the besieged garrison was rapidly being reduced to desperate straits. Though the food supply was adequate, there was great lack of water. Manifestly a close maintenance of the blockade would quickly have forced a surrender. But Robert Curthose had too chivalrous a heart to let his brother suffer from thirst. He directed the guards to keep their watch a little carelessly in order that Henry’s servants might occasionally pass through the lines and fetch water.[111] Wace affirms that he even sent Henry a tun of wine.[112] Such chivalrous and impractical generosity was beyond the comprehension of William Rufus, who upbraided the duke and came near disrupting their alliance and withdrawing from the siege.[113] But Henry soon saw the hopelessness of his plight, and, “reflecting upon the changing fortunes of mortals, determined to save himself for better times.” He offered to capitulate upon honorable terms, and William and Robert readily agreed to his proposals, and allowed him to march out with his garrison under arms.[114] Henry’s subsequent fortunes are obscure. Ordericus Vitalis recounts some heroic details of his wanderings and vicissitudes in exile.[115] But it is clear that some definite reconciliation was arranged with his brothers before the end of summer, for early in August we find him crossing with them to England to join in an expedition against the king of Scotland.[116] Meanwhile, having disposed of the factious opposition of the would-be count of the Cotentin, the allied brothers turned their attention to other problems within the duchy. Ordericus Vitalis affirms that for almost two years after the siege of Mont-Saint-Michel Normandy was free from wars,[117] though it must be confessed that his own more detailed record on other pages does not bear him out in this general assertion. The mere fact, however, that William Rufus had changed from an insidious enemy into an active ally, present in the duchy, was in itself a guarantee of more vigorous government. But more convincing evidence that William and Robert had determined upon a programme of greater rigor in the enforcement of ducal rights, and upon a systematic recovery of the ducal prerogatives which had been usurped by the baronage during the recent disorders, has been preserved in a unique document which records the Norman _Consuetudines et Iusticie_ as they existed under William the Conqueror. On 18 July 1091, the allied brothers assembled the bishops and lay barons at Caen and held a formal inquest into the ducal rights and customs which had prevailed in their father’s lifetime. The prohibition upon the building of adulterine castles, the ducal right to garrison private strongholds and take hostages of their holders, the limitations upon private warfare, all these things and much besides, which had been firm custom in the Conqueror’s time, were now revived and carefully reduced to writing.[118] If these measures were not in exact pursuance of the provisions of the treaty of the previous spring, they certainly were in accord with its spirit. Manifestly a new régime was in contemplation. Quite unexpectedly, however, these plans for a restoration of public order in Normandy were interrupted by the arrival of news from across the Channel which demanded the immediate presence of the king and his ally in England.[119] Serious disturbances had broken out on the Welsh border, and King Malcolm of Scotland had made a destructive raid into the north of England. The inquest at Caen had been held on 18 July. Early in August, or perhaps even before the end of July,[120] William and Robert, accompanied by Prince Henry,[121] departed for England. So unexpectedly had these changes of plan been made as to provoke general consternation.[122] Of the king’s campaign against the Welsh we know nothing save that he met with small success,[123] and there is no evidence that Duke Robert played any part in it. It was the Scotch expedition, coming after it, which claimed the interest of contemporary writers. Large preparations were made for a northern war both by land and by sea.[124] But the fleet which was sent northward in September was wrecked a few days before Michaelmas;[125] and the land forces led by the king and the duke were evidently still later in advancing. If we can trust our dating, they did not reach Durham till 14 November.[126] On that day the king formally reinstated William of Saint-Calais in the bishopric of Durham.[127] Then pushing on northward into Lothian,[128] he found that Malcolm had come to meet him with a formidable army. The situation was strikingly like that of eleven years earlier when Robert Curthose at the head of the Conqueror’s forces had crossed the Tweed to avenge King Malcolm’s raid of 1079.[129] The hostile armies stood facing each other, but again there was no battle. And again, as formerly, it was Robert Curthose who procured a peaceful renewal of the Scotch king’s homage. Supported by Edgar Atheling, scion of the old English royal line, who was then with Malcolm’s forces, he undertook negotiations.[130] Malcolm, we are told, was not unmindful of his old friendship for the duke, and even admitted that, at the Conqueror’s bidding, he had done homage to Robert as his eldest son and heir.[131] This obligation he would fully recognize; but to William Rufus, he declared, he owed nothing. This was shrewd diplomacy, but Robert, unmoved by it, tactfully explained that the times had changed; and after some further parley, Malcolm consented to an interview with the English king and to the conclusion of a peace[132] upon the basis of the old agreement which had bound him to the Conqueror. To William Rufus he renewed his homage and received from him a regrant of all his English lands. Florence of Worcester adds that the English king undertook to pay him an annual pension of twelve marks of gold.[133] It was never the way of William Rufus to hazard in battle what he could more surely gain through a politic expenditure of English treasure. From the meeting with Malcolm in Lothian the allied brothers moved back southward into Wessex.[134] Robert remained in England almost until Christmas. He had rendered important services in the negotiations with Malcolm, and he might justly look to William Rufus for continued friendly coöperation under the terms of the treaty which they had concluded in Normandy the previous spring. But he now discovered that the king’s friendship was “more feigned than real.”[135] William Rufus was no longer minded to abide by the terms of their alliance—probably, that is, he was not willing again to cross the Channel with Robert and assist him in the work of reëstablishing his authority in the lands of Normandy and Maine which had fallen away from their obedience. Accordingly, the duke withdrew in dudgeon, and, taking ship from the Isle of Wight, returned to Normandy, 23 December 1091.[136] During the four years of Robert’s reign which we have so far passed in review, his attention had been in the main absorbed by his relations with William Rufus, first in an effort to overthrow him and obtain the English crown, then in a struggle to preserve his own duchy from English conquest, and finally in an effort to coöperate with his brother in a friendly alliance which, after drawing him away on distant enterprises, had proved a hollow mockery. During this same period other problems had pressed upon the duke, in the solution of which he had met with little better success. Indeed, the county of Maine had already slipped entirely from his grasp. The historian of the bishops of Le Mans records that the death of William the Conqueror produced a ferment throughout the whole of Maine;[137] and there is some reason for believing that very early in his reign Robert Curthose had led a Norman army against the Manceaux and had suppressed an incipient rebellion.[138] In the absence of convincing evidence, however, it seems more probable that Maine was not disturbed during the first year of Robert’s rule by more than local disorders, and that his first expedition into the county did not take place until the late summer of 1088. Upon the fall of Rochester and the failure of his attempted invasion of England, the duke—acting, it is said, upon the advice of Odo of Bayeux,[139] who had now returned to Normandy to pursue his restless ambition[140]—assembled an army and determined to march into Maine and assert his authority. Probably the expedition was intended primarily as a formal progress for receiving the homage of the lords of Maine, for the county was disturbed by no general revolt at that time. Robert’s garrison still held the castle of Le Mans securely, and Bishop Hoël and the clergy and people of the city were loyal.[141] Placing Bishop Odo, William of Évreux, Ralph of Conches, and William of Breteuil at the head of his forces, the duke moved southward, apparently in August 1088, and, encountering no opposition, entered Le Mans, where he was received by the clergy and people with demonstrations of loyalty.[142] The great barons, Geoffrey of Mayenne, Robert the Burgundian, and Helias, son of John of La Flèche, whatever their secret feelings, came forward promptly with offers of loyal service.[143] Only Pain de Mondoubleau, collecting his retainers in the castle of Ballon, dared to offer resistance; and early in September[144] he was reduced to submission. Everywhere Robert’s authority appeared to be firmly established;[145] and as he returned to Normandy to wage war against the rebellious house of Talvas, he was able to recruit his army from the Manceaux as well as from the Normans.[146] Yet the following year there appear to have been fresh disturbances in Maine. By this time Robert had his hands full with the hostile activity of William Rufus and with the growing defection of the Norman barons in the lands east of the Seine; and as he appealed to his overlord, King Philip, for aid in Normandy,[147] so he turned to his other overlord, Fulk le Réchin, for assistance against the Manceaux.[148] If we could accept the hardly credible account of Ordericus Vitalis,[149] Fulk came to visit Robert in Normandy, where he found him convalescing after a serious illness, and revealed to him his passion for Bertrada de Montfort, niece and ward of Robert’s vassal, William of Évreux. If the duke would only gain for him the hand of the beautiful Bertrada, he, Fulk, would keep the Manceaux in obedience. Accordingly, so runs the account, Robert undertook the delicate negotiations for this famous amour. But William of Évreux was far from pliable, and not until the duke had made him enormous concessions[150] did he agree to the marriage of his ward to the notorious count of Anjou. But with such sacrifices the hand of Bertrada was won, and, true to his undertaking, Fulk prevented a revolt of the Manceaux for a year, “rather by prayers and promises than by force.” In the year 1090, Robert by this time having become still more deeply involved in his struggle with William Rufus, new and far more serious troubles broke out in Maine.[151] Helias of La Flèche, grandson of Herbert Éveille-Chien through his daughter Paula, set up a claim to the county, and in furtherance of his ambition seized the castle of Ballon, which Duke Robert had besieged and taken two years before. Within the city of Le Mans, however, the cause of Helias made little progress, thanks mainly to Bishop Hoël, who remained staunchly loyal to Robert Curthose and used his great influence to keep the citizens true to their allegiance.[152] But when Helias perceived that the bishop was the chief obstacle to his plan of throwing off the Norman yoke, he did not scruple to seize him and hold him in captivity at La Flèche amid circumstances of great indignity. He could hardly have made a greater mistake. So great was Hoël’s popularity that the persecution provoked a remarkable popular demonstration in his favor. Within the city and the suburbs of Le Mans holy images and crosses were laid flat upon the ground, church doors were blockaded with brambles in sign of mourning, bells ceased to ring, and all the customary religious services and solemnities were suspended. Before such a demonstration Helias yielded and set the bishop free.[153] Meanwhile, Geoffrey of Mayenne and other revolutionaries had brought from Italy a third claimant to the county of Maine in the person of Hugh of Este, another grandson of Herbert Éveille-Chien.[154] And with his arrival, the rebellion made more rapid progress. Helias of La Flèche, forgetful for the moment of his own claims, joined with Geoffrey of Mayenne and other prominent Manceaux in welcoming the new count. Oaths of fealty to Robert Curthose weighed for nothing.[155] But Bishop Hoël stood firmly against the revolution. His loyalty could not be shaken. Withdrawing from Le Mans, he hastened to Normandy and laid the whole state of affairs before the duke. But Robert was “sunk in sloth and given over to the pursuit of pleasure,” and showed himself little worthy of the bishop’s loyalty and devotion. The rebellion in Maine disturbed him little; and he showed no disposition to act with vigor for its suppression. It was enough, he thought, if he could preserve his right of patronage over the bishopric. He directed the bishop at all costs to avoid making any concessions to the rebels in the matter of patronage, and with no better satisfaction sent him away.[156] Returning to Le Mans, Hoël found Hugh in possession of the city and occupying the episcopal palace. Hugh opened negotiations and tried to persuade the bishop to receive the temporalities of his office as a grant from himself; but Hoël remained true to Duke Robert, and would make no concessions. An agreement proved impossible. Meanwhile Hugh had succeeded in stirring up a formidable faction against the bishop among the clergy. Soon the disorders became so aggravated that Hoël was obliged to retire from his diocese and seek asylum in England, where he received a cordial welcome from William Rufus and remained for some four months.[157] But in the spring of the following year (1091) he returned to his diocese, and, after further controversy, was finally reconciled with Hugh and his enemies among the clergy, and welcomed back to Le Mans amid much ceremony and rejoicing (29-30 June).[158] Apparently he had at last come to regard Duke Robert and his rights with complete indifference. But by this time the popularity of Count Hugh had vanished among the Manceaux, who had found him to be “without wealth, sense, or valor.”[159] And when the soft Italian learned that Robert Curthose and William Rufus had composed their difficulties and, as allies, were planning the reëstablishment of Norman rule in Maine,[160] he had no stomach for remaining longer to cope with the difficulties that were gathering around him. A few days after he had made peace with Bishop Hoël, he sold all his rights in Maine to Helias of La Flèche for 10,000 _sous manceaux_, and departed for Italy.[161] Count Helias now quickly gained the recognition and support of Hoël and of Fulk le Réchin,[162] and became henceforth the sole opponent of Norman rights in Maine. Hard fighting was yet in store for him against William Rufus, and only in the time of Henry I was he to obtain universal recognition; but for the time being his trials were at an end. The plans which William and Robert were maturing for a combined invasion of the county were, as has been seen,[163] suspended by their sudden departure for England in August 1091. And when Robert returned to the Continent, he made, so far as is known, no effort to recover his authority in Maine. Through weakness and inertia he had allowed a splendid territory, which the Conqueror had been at much pains to win, to slip from his hands without striking a blow. Indeed, without any formal abrogation of his rights he seems to have dropped all pretension to ruling in Maine. In four extant charters he bears the title of count or prince of the Manceaux.[164] But they all belong to the early period of his reign (1087-91), and, so far as their evidence goes, it is not clear that he used the title after 1089. It was not only in his dealings with William Rufus and in his government of Maine that Robert’s reign was one long record of weakness and failure. He showed himself equally incompetent to curb and control the feudal baronage within the duchy. We have already remarked the general expulsion of royal garrisons from baronial castles upon the death of the Conqueror.[165] It is not recorded that Robert made any protest against this, and his own reckless grants of castles to the barons aggravated a situation which had been dangerous from the first. He gave Ivry to William of Breteuil; and for recompense to Roger of Beaumont, who had previously had castle guard at Ivry, he gave Brionne, “a most powerful fortress in the very heart of his duchy.”[166] To William of Breteuil, he also gave Pont-Saint-Pierre, and to William of Évreux, Bavent, Noyon, Gacé, and Gravençon, apparently for no better reason than to gratify Fulk le Réchin in the matter of Bertrada de Montfort and gain his friendly support in Maine.[167] When Robert had reduced Saint-Céneri by a successful siege, he immediately gave it away to Robert Géré,[168] upon whom he later had to make war to compel the destruction of an adulterine castle.[169] He established Gilbert of Laigle at Exmes,[170] and to Helias of Saint-Saëns he granted several strongholds on the east bank of the Seine.[171] The almost independent establishment of Prince Henry in the Cotentin and the Avranchin has been noted elsewhere. Some of these favored barons, it is true, remained faithful to their trusts; but such reckless prodigality meant exhaustion of resources, and too often it meant license for private war, plunder of the unarmed populace, and an open defiance of ducal authority. Against rebellious barons, the duke could on occasion act with great vigor. In 1088 he threw Robert of Bellême into prison,[172] and accepted the challenge of Roger of Montgomery to a decisive contest. He laid siege to the impregnable stronghold of Saint-Céneri, and when he had reduced it by starvation, he blinded Robert Quarrel, the castellan, and had other members of the garrison condemned to mutilation by judgment of his _curia_.[173] He also imprisoned Robert of Meulan for factious opposition to the grant of Ivry to William of Breteuil; and, in the sequel of this controversy, between three in the afternoon and sunset, he took Brionne by assault, a great fortress which it had taken the Conqueror three years to reduce with the aid of the king of France.[174] But with all this fitful energy, the duke’s love of ease and his desire ‘to sleep under a roof’ called him home too often in mid-campaign.[175] He lacked the resolution to carry a difficult and laborious enterprise through to the end. Seeking mere temporary advantages, he was prone to adopt the easy but fatal expedient of allying himself with the turbulent barons whose lawlessness it should have been his first concern to curb. Upon the fall of Saint-Céneri he seemed to be in mid-course of victory over the notorious house of Talvas. The shocking punishment visited upon the surrendered garrison had caused fear and consternation to spread among the supporters of Roger of Montgomery. The garrisons of Bellême and Alençon are said to have been ready to surrender at the mere approach of the ducal forces. Yet to the general amazement the war went no further. The duke suddenly made peace with Roger and released Robert of Bellême from captivity.[176] And the peace then made with the rebel was a lasting one. Not again, until after his return from the Crusade, did the duke fight against Robert of Bellême. Evidently he had decided that in his future difficulties it would be better to have the house of Talvas for him rather than against him. Not a check was placed hereafter by the duke upon this most notorious tyrant of the age. Robert of Bellême was “a subtle genius, crafty and deceitful.” His ability challenged admiration. But his cruelty, avarice, and lawlessness knew no bounds. Plundering and oppressing all over whom he had power, he came to be regarded by contemporaries as the veritable incarnation of Satan.[177] He built a castle in a dominating position at Fourches, and forcibly transferred the inhabitants of Vignats thither. He also erected Château-Gontier in a strong position on the Orne, and thus placed his yoke upon the district of Le Houlme.[178] Against Geoffrey of Mortagne he waged a war for the possession of Domfront.[179] He did not hesitate to besiege Gilbert of Laigle, the duke’s loyal vassal, at Exmes.[180] His intolerable violence drew down upon him a concerted attack by his neighbors in the Hiémois. But he was able to bring the duke to his aid and to besiege his enemies at Courcy, in January 1091.[181] Later he waged a successful war against Robert Géré of Saint-Céneri and a formidable combination of the lords of Maine. Again on this occasion he gained the assistance of the duke, and so compelled the destruction of a castle which Géré was attempting to fortify at Montaigu.[182] He was said to be the possessor of thirty-four strong castles,[183] and he was, perhaps, more powerful than the duke himself. Indeed, in his dealings with the duke the relation of lord and vassal seems at times almost to have been inverted, as when Robert Curthose acted as his ally in private warfare. One might perhaps suppose that considerations of policy led the duke to adopt a conciliatory attitude towards Robert of Bellême, his most powerful subject. But in his dealings with other barons Robert showed himself equally weak and vacillating. He made no effort to check the long and desperate war by which William of Breteuil was seeking to bring his rebellious vassal, Ascelin Goël, back to his allegiance.[184] Indeed, he sought rather to gain some temporary financial advantage from it. When Ascelin, in defiance of feudal right and honor, seized Ivry, the castle of his lord, Robert did not scruple to take it from him and to compel William of Breteuil to redeem it by a payment of 1500 livres.[185] And a little later he took the other side in the struggle, and, in exchange for ‘large sums’ joined with Robert of Bellême, King Philip of France, and other hirelings whom William of Breteuil was gathering from every quarter, in the overthrow of Ascelin at the siege of Bréval.[186] When a bitter feud broke out between William of Évreux and Ralph of Conches, Robert sought to avoid becoming involved in the struggle. But his failure to respond to the appeal of the lord of Conches merely drove the latter into the arms of William Rufus.[187] The expulsion of Prince Henry from the Cotentin and the Avranchin after the siege of Mont-Saint-Michel had been no lasting victory for the duke. In 1092 Henry suddenly reappeared in western Normandy in secure possession of the town and castle of Domfront. The inhabitants had revolted against the intolerable oppression of Robert of Bellême, and, recalling Henry from exile, had accepted him as their lord.[188] Secure in the possession of this impregnable stronghold, Henry set himself to recover the lands from which he had been expelled and to establish himself in an independent position in the southwest. He defied Robert of Bellême,[189] and made war upon the duke with much burning, pillage, and violence.[190] With the aid of Earl Hugh of Chester, to whom he gave the castle of Saint-James, and of Richard de Redvers, Roger de Mandeville, and others, he gradually won back the greater part of the Cotentin.[191] The pages of Ordericus Vitalis are filled with lamentations over the evil times that had fallen upon the duchy. Through the indolence of a soft and careless duke all that the Conqueror had created by his vigor and ability was allowed to fall into decay and confusion. The whole province was in a state of dissolution. Bands of freebooters overran villages and country, and plundered the unarmed peasantry. The church’s possessions were wrung from her by force. Monasteries were filled with desolation, and the monks and nuns were reduced to penury. Adulterine castles arose on every hand to become the dens of robbers who ravaged the countryside with fire and sword. A depopulated country remained for years afterwards a silent witness to the evil day.[192] That the indignant outbursts of Ordericus Vitalis are not mere rhetoric, is amply proved by a more prosaic narrative of the nuns of La Trinité of Caen.[193] In the cartulary of their abbey they have tersely recorded the long list of their injuries and losses in men and revenues and lands and cattle. “After the death of King William,” they say, “William, count of Évreux, took from Holy Trinity and from the abbess and the nuns seven arpents of vineyard and two horses and twenty sous of the coinage of Rouen and the salt pans at Écrammeville and twenty livres annually from Gacé and from Bavent. Richard, son of Herluin, took the two manors of Tassilly and Montbouin. William the chamberlain, son of Roger de Candos, took the tithe of Hainovilla. William Baivel took twenty oxen which he had seized at Auberville. Robert de Bonebos plundered the same manor …;” and so the complaint continues through a long list of some thirty offenders, among them such well known names as Richard de Courcy, William Bertran, and Robert Mowbray. Even Prince Henry takes his place in this remarkable catalogue of sinners. It is a little startling to learn that in his government of the Cotentin he was not altogether worthy of the polite compliments which have been paid him by the chroniclers. The nuns complain that he “took toll (_pedagium_) from Quettehou and from all the Cotentin, and forced the men of Holy Trinity in the said vill and county to work upon the castles of his men.” It is significant that in this extraordinary entry in the Caen cartulary the record of violations of right stands alone. We hear nothing of suits for the recovery of the alienated lands and goods. The distressed nuns appear to have been patiently preserving the record of their grievances against the day when there should be a government and courts to which they could appeal with some prospect of obtaining redress. Indeed, orderly government and the regular operation of courts of law seem to have been suspended almost entirely during Robert’s reign. With the exception of a fragment of a charter of donation in favor of Saint-Vincent of Le Mans,[194] no single record of an administrative or judicial act by the duke for Maine has been preserved. And for Normandy we have nothing but a few scattered references to the _curia ducis_[195] and one imperfect record of a suit before that court in 1093.[196] The study of Robert’s charters, which have now at last been collected and set in order,[197] reveals a state of disorder and of irregularity hardly conceivable so soon after the reign of the Conqueror. The duke had a chancellor and evidently some semblance of a centralized administration. Yet the chancery seems hardly ever to have performed the most common functions of such an office, viz., the issuing of ducal charters. Most of Robert’s acts were drawn up locally and according to the prevailing forms of the religious houses in whose favor they were issued. Evidence of any systematic taxation is wholly lacking; and the extent to which Robert was neglectful of ducal customs and rights of justice stands patently revealed by the inquest of Caen, held when, for a moment, with the assistance of William Rufus, a more vigorous régime was in contemplation.[198] Rare occasions when the duke asserted himself to compel the destruction of an adulterine castle[199] or the submission of a refractory noble stand out as wholly exceptional in a reign of weakness, indifference, and indecision.[200] It was, of course, the clergy who suffered most from this reign of lawlessness and who were at the same time able to make their woes articulate. The lamentful narrative of Ordericus Vitalis and the bare record of the nuns of Caen have already been sufficiently dwelt upon. Yet it should in justice be noted that Robert Curthose was not a wilful oppressor of the church. He was no impious tyrant such as William Rufus or Ranulf Flambard. His offences against the clergy were rather the sins of weakness than of malice. His sale of lay rights over the sees of Coutances and Avranches to Prince Henry[201] when he was preparing for the invasion of England was doubtless dictated by the sudden needs of the moment. So, too, in 1089 he granted the manor of Gisors, a property of the church of St. Mary of Rouen, to his overlord, King Philip, “non habens de proprio quod posset dare.”[202] On the other hand, the duke often acted in a perfectly just and cordial coöperation with the clergy. There is every indication of harmony in the relations between Robert and the bishops and abbots at the synod held at Rouen in June 1091, for the election of Serlo as bishop of Séez.[203] So, too, soon after, he gave his willing assent to the election of Roger du Sap as abbot of Saint-Évroul, and “committed to him by the pastoral staff the care of the monastery in worldly affairs.”[204] So, also, upon the election of Anselm, abbot of Bec, as archbishop of Canterbury, he gladly consented to his resignation of the abbey,[205] and afterwards entirely accommodated himself to Anselm’s wishes with regard to his successor at Bec. There is a note of real affection in the words with which Anselm in a letter to the prior and monks of Bec refers to Robert on this occasion: “By the grace of God, our lord the prince of the Normans has sent me a most kindly letter asking pardon if his love of me and his sorrow at my loss have caused him to think or say of me anything unseemly because of my election to the archiepiscopate. In the same letter he has graciously sought my counsel concerning the appointment of an abbot for you, and has promised to accept it gladly not only in this matter but in other things as well.”[206] Of the duke’s relations with the papacy in this period we know almost nothing, except that his attitude, on the whole, was one of obedience and accommodation. The violence which Robert had done to the property of St. Mary of Rouen in granting the manor of Gisors to King Philip caused Archbishop William to lay the whole province under an interdict. This, in turn, brought on a controversy between the archbishop and the abbey of Fécamp, and in the sequel the Pope suspended the metropolitan from the use of his pallium for having exceeded his authority. At this point the duke intervened, and at the expense of acknowledging himself subject to the jurisdiction of the apostolic see, “saving only the privileges of his ancestors,” he obtained for the archbishop at least a temporary restoration of his pallium, while further investigations were pending.[207] The church and clergy often suffered from Robert’s weakness, or his sudden temptation to gain some temporary advantage, but rarely, if ever, from his ill will. Inexcusable weakness and the steady disintegration of ducal authority, either through his own rash grants, or through the usurpations of his turbulent subjects, or through the insidious aggressions of William Rufus, these are the outstanding features of Duke Robert’s unfortunate reign. Two days before Christmas, 1091, Robert had departed from England and returned to Normandy, feeling much vexed because the Red King would not abide by the terms of their alliance.[208] Yet an open breach between the brothers was long delayed. William Rufus had his hands full with domestic affairs in 1092 and 1093, and he had little opportunity either for advancing his own interests in Normandy or for aiding the duke against his enemies as he had agreed to do. Robert, on his part, so far as can be seen, did not fail in his obligations under the provisions of the treaty. In the reservation which he attached to a grant to the abbey of Bec in February 1092 he was careful to guard the rights of William Rufus as well as of himself.[209] The readiness with which he accommodated himself to the king’s wishes in releasing Anselm, abbot of Bec, to become archbishop of Canterbury in 1093 is indicative of a similar spirit of coöperation. But it appears that he sought in vain the king’s promised assistance in Normandy until his patience was exhausted; and when, finally, the rupture came between them, it was the duke who took the initiative in terminating an agreement from which he could no longer hope to derive any good. Towards the close of 1093, he addressed to William Rufus a formal defiance. “This year at Christmas,” says the Chronicler, “King William held his court at Gloucester; and there came messengers to him out of Normandy, from his brother Robert, and they said that his brother renounced all peace and compact if the king would not perform all that they had stipulated in the treaty; moreover they called him perjured and faithless unless he would perform the conditions, or would go to the place where the treaty had been concluded and sworn to, and there clear himself.”[210] In the spring of 1094, William Rufus took up this challenge and prepared for an invasion of Normandy. It is characteristic of the Red King that we hear more of the vast quantities of money which he gathered in from all sides than of the men whom he brought together for the expedition. The barons were called upon to contribute heavily to the expenses of the campaign, and strong pressure was put upon them in order to insure that their offerings should not be too sparing. Archbishop Anselm thought to make a contribution of five hundred pounds of silver, but the king rejected his offer as being too small.[211] On 2 February the forces were assembled at Hastings for the crossing.[212] But the winds were contrary and the expedition was delayed for more than a month,[213] and it did not succeed in sailing till Midlent.[214] After the landing in Normandy, active hostilities were still further delayed by negotiations. William and Robert met in a conference, but a reconciliation proved impossible between them. Then a more formal meeting was held at an unidentified place called _Campus Martius_, and the dispute was laid before the great nobles who had confirmed the earlier treaty with their oaths. Unanimously they gave their decision in favor of the duke and laid the whole responsibility for the present discord upon the king. But William Rufus, ‘a fierce king,’ would have none of their condemnation. He would not accept responsibility for the breach, neither would he abide by the terms of the treaty. The conference was accordingly broken off, and the brothers separated in wrath, the king going to his headquarters at Eu, the duke to Rouen.[215] Then, or more likely even before this, William Rufus turned to that brand of diplomacy in which he was so eminently skilful and which had gained him such successes in his earlier Norman policy. With the treasure which he had brought from England, he began to collect great numbers of mercenaries; and also, by lavish expenditure of gold and silver, and by grants and promises of Norman lands, he succeeded in corrupting more of the Norman baronage and in winning them away from their allegiance to the duke. And as rapidly as he gained possession of their strongholds he filled them with garrisons upon whom he could rely.[216] But he was not content with mere diplomacy and bribery. He also took the field, and laying siege to Bures, a castle of Helias of Saint-Saëns, he reduced it, and took many of the duke’s men captive.[217] But meanwhile, Robert had not been idle, and the success of his operations suggests that he had not ventured to defy William Rufus without making greater preparations than have been recorded by the contemporary writers. As he had done previously when confronted with an English invasion, he brought in his overlord, King Philip, and a French army.[218] Philip and Robert appear to have opened their campaign in the south and west of Normandy with two remarkable victories. Philip invested Argentan,[219] and, on the very first day of the siege, Roger le Poitevin and an enormous garrison of seven hundred knights and fourteen hundred esquires surrendered without any blood being shed, and were held by the king to ransom. Soon after, the duke won a victory of almost equal importance by the reduction of Le Homme and the capture of William Peverel and a garrison of eight hundred knights.[220] These reverses came as a staggering surprise to William Rufus. Immediately he sent off to England and ordered the assembling of a great army of English foot soldiers—some twenty thousand, it is said—for the invasion of Normandy. But when they came to Hastings for the crossing, Ranulf Flambard, at the king’s order, took from each of them the ten shillings that he had brought for maintenance during the campaign; and then sent them back home, while he forwarded the money to William Rufus in Normandy.[221] The king had need of this fresh supply of English treasure. For by this time Philip and Robert, after their double victory in the south and west, were advancing on William’s headquarters at Eu,[222] in the very heart of the district which he had controlled since 1089 or 1090. But at Longueville King Philip halted.[223] William Rufus had found a way to repeat the measure which had turned the French king back from La Ferté in 1089, if not from Eu in 1091. “There was the king of France turned back by craft, and all the expedition was afterwards dispersed.”[224] Again the resources of Duke Robert had proved unequal to the greater stores of English treasure which the Red King was able to command.[225] Yet the strength of Robert’s resistance was by no means broken. William Rufus sent to Domfront to call Prince Henry to his aid, and such was Robert’s strength that it proved impossible for Henry to make his way by land to Eu. The king sent ships to fetch him.[226] But instead of proceeding to Eu, he crossed the Channel, and, landing at Southampton at the end of October, he went to London for Christmas, evidently with a view to meeting the king upon his return from the Continent.[227] Meanwhile, William Rufus remained in Normandy almost to the end of the year. But clearly he met with no great success in his projects. He had spent vast sums of money, yet little or nothing had come of it—so ran the contemporary judgment: “Infecto itaque negotio, in Angliam reversus est.”[228] On 29 December he crossed from Wissant to Dover.[229] The progress of the Norman war in 1095 is obscure in the extreme. The king’s whole attention was absorbed by pressing affairs within the limits of his own realm; and he seems to have committed his continental interests almost wholly to Prince Henry. Henry remained in England until Lent, and then crossed over to Normandy ‘with great treasure’; and during the months which followed, he waged war against Duke Robert.[230] But in what part of the duchy, or how, or with what success, we have no information. The close of the year 1095 saw Robert Curthose in a difficult situation, but the issue of the contest had not yet been decided. Meanwhile, the famous sermon of Pope Urban II before the council of Clermont had thrilled all Europe with a new impulse and turned the course of Robert’s life into a new and unexpected channel. FOOTNOTES [1] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268: “Cum igitur in Pontivo apud Abbatisvillam, cum sui similibus iuvenibus … moraretur … audito nuntio excessus patris, confestim veniens Rotomagum, ipsam civitatem et totum ducatum sine ulla contradictione suscepit”; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 298; cf. Ordericus, ii, p. 374; iii, p. 256; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1086. [2] “Omnesque thesauros suos ecclesiis et pauperibus Deique ministris distribui praecepit. Quantum vero singulis dari voluit, callide taxavit, et coram se describi a notariis imperavit.” Ordericus, iii, p. 228. [3] _Ibid._, p. 245. [4] “Rotbertus in Normanniam reversus, thesauros quos invenerat monasteriis, ecclesiis, pauperibus, pro anima patris sui, largiter divisit; et Ulfum, Haroldi quondam regis Anglorum filium, Duneschaldumque, regis Scottorum Malcolmi filium, a custodia laxatos, et armis militaribus honoratos, abire permisit.” Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 21. [5] “Donum de manerio de Vain quod idem pater meus in infirmitate qua defunctus est eidem ecclesie fecit.” Haskins, p. 285, no. 1. [6] _Ibid._, pp. 287-288, no. 4 _a_. [7] “Mors Guillelmi regis ipso eodem die, quo Rotomagi defunctus est, in urbe Roma et in Calabria quibusdam exheredatis nunciata est, ut ab ipsis postmodum veraciter in Normannia relatum est.” Ordericus, iii, p. 249. [8] _Ibid._, p. 261. [9] _Ibid._, pp. 261-262. [10] Ordericus, iii, p. 256; cf. pp. 262-263. [11] _Ibid._, pp. 245-248. [12] “Postquam de carcere liber egressus est, totum in Normannia pristinum honorem adeptus est, et consiliarius ducis, videlicet nepotis sui, factus est.” _Ibid._, p. 263; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 360. [13] _Ibid._; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 21; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 211. [14] Ordericus, iii, pp. 268-269. The speech is doubtless imaginary, but the argument must surely be contemporary. [15] _Ibid._, p. 269; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 360. [16] Cf. E. A. Freeman, _The Reign of William Rufus_ (London, 1882), i, pp. 9 ff. [17] Ordericus (iii, pp. 268-270) speaks as though the conspiracy was started late in 1087, but his account lacks convincing precision and definiteness; and the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1087 for 1088) which is followed by Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 22), makes the positive statement that the plot was formed during Lent. Further, we know from Henry of Huntingdon (p. 211) that the bishop of Bayeux was present at the king’s Christmas court in 1087. [18] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087. [19] Ordericus Vitalis (iii, pp. 268-270) seems to indicate that it was begun in Normandy at some sort of a secret gathering of the barons; but the English writers convey the impression that it originated in England. Cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 360; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 21; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 214. It may, of course, have had a double origin. [20] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 211. [21] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 360; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 21; Ordericus, iii, p. 270; Freeman, _William Rufus_, ii, pp. 466-467. [22] William of Malmesbury _G. R._, ii, p. 360. [23] The early writers are sharply divided in their account of William of Saint-Calais in connection with the rebellion of 1088. The southern English writers believed him guilty of treason. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 21-22; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 214; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 360. But a contemporary narrative by a Durham writer, who was an eyewitness of the bishop’s trial, represents him as the persecuted victim of malicious enemies who had poisoned the king’s mind against him. _De Iniusta Vexatione Willelmi Episcopi Primi_, in Simeon of Durham, _Opera Omnia_, ed. Thomas Arnold (London, 1882-85), i, pp. 170-195. And it should be remembered that his condemnation by the _curia regis_ was not for the treason with which he was charged, but for his refusal to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the court. On the treatise _De Iniusta Vexatione_ see Appendix B. [24] The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1087) and Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 22) make the positive statement that the revolt broke out after Easter (16 April); but we know from a more reliable source that William Rufus took the first active measures against the bishop of Durham on 12 March, and it is clear that the rebellion was already under way at this time. _De Iniusta Vexatione_, in Simeon, _Opera_, i, p. 171; cf. p. 189. [25] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 21: “pars etenim nobiliorum Normannorum favebat regi Willelmo, sed minima; pars vero altera favebat Rotberto comiti Normannorum, et maxima”; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 214. In general on the rebellion of 1088 and all the problems connected with it see Freeman, _William Rufus_, i, pp. 22 ff.; ii, appendices b, c, d, e. [26] Ordericus, iii, p. 272. [27] Pevensey, of course, was fundamental because on the coast where Robert’s fleet was expected to make land. [28] “Per angelos Dei, si ego essem in Alexandria, expectarent me Angli, nec ante adventum meum regem sibi facere auderent. Ipse etiam Willelmus frater meus, quod eum presumpsisse dicitis, pro capite suo sine mea permissione minime attentaret.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268. [29] “Haec primo dicebat, sed, postquam rei gestae ordinem rescivit, non minima discordia inter se et fratrem suum Willelmum emersit.” _Ibid._ [30] This is the plain inference from both the Norman and the English writers. E.g., Ordericus, iii, pp. 269-270; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 22. [31] Ordericus, iii, pp. 269-270. [32] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 22; Henry of Huntingdon p. 215; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 362, 468; Ordericus, iii, pp. 272-273; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; _Des miracles advenus en l’église de Fécamp_, ed. R. N. Sauvage, in Société de l’Histoire de Normandie, _Mélanges_, 2d series (Rouen, 1893), p. 29. [33] Ordericus, iii, p. 244; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 268-269; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1086; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 468, 337, where it is said that the Conqueror bequeathed to Henry “maternas possessiones.” [34] Ordericus, iii, p. 244. [35] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468. [36] _Ibid._ [37] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 268. His presence is further proved by his attestation of charters, e.g., 30 March 1088, charter by Ralph Fitz Anseré in favor of Jumièges (Haskins, pp. 290-291, no. 6; also in _Chartes de l’abbaye de Jumièges_, ed. J.-J. Vernier, Paris, 1916, i, no. 37); 7 July 1088, charter by the duke in favor of the abbey of Fécamp (Haskins, pp. 287-289, no. 4 _a_); shortly after September 1087, charter by the duke in favor of Saint-Étienne of Caen (_ibid._, p. 285, no. 1). [38] Ordericus, iii, p. 267; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 211. Robert of Torigny raises a question as to whether Robert conveyed the Cotentin to Henry outright or whether he only pledged it to him as surety for a loan. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 269. [39] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 23; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 215; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 361, 362; Ordericus, iii, pp. 273, 277-278. [40] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 22, 23; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 214-215; Simeon, _H. R._, pp. 215-216. [41] “Tunc temporis ultra quam virum deceat in Normannia deliciabatur.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270. [42] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 22; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 269-270. [43] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 23; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215. [44] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 362-363. [45] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362. [46] _Supra_, p. 47. [47] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215; _De Iniusta Vexatione_, in Simeon, _Opera_, i, p. 191. At the trial of William of Saint-Calais the king says: “Bene scias, episcope, quod nunquam transfretabis, donec castellum tuum habeam. Episcopus enim Baiocensis inde me castigavit…” [48] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362. [49] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 216; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215. Ordericus Vitalis (iii, pp. 273-278) gives a highly embroidered account of the siege of Rochester and of its surrender, making it the outstanding event of the period—he knows nothing of the six weeks’ siege of Pevensey—but Simeon of Durham says that Rochester surrendered “parvo peracto spatio.” [50] He returned to Normandy and to his see at Bayeux. Ordericus, iii, p. 278; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 215. According to Simeon of Durham (_H. R._, p. 216) he was intrusted by Duke Robert with the administration of the duchy, but this is an error. See Appendix B, _infra_, pp. 214-215. [51] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1087; Simeon, _H. R._, p. 116. [52] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 362: “Ceteri omnes in fidem recepti”; Ordericus, iii, pp. 279-280; cf. pp. 276, 291. We are without specific information as to the date of the surrender of Rochester. According to Ordericus (iii, p. 279), it took place “in initio aestatis.” A charter by Duke Robert in favor of La Trinité of Fécamp is dated 7 July 1088, “quando in Angliam transire debui.” Haskins, p. 288. [53] At the trial of Bishop William of Durham before the _curia regis_ at Salisbury, 2 November 1088, the king refused to allow the bishop to depart from the kingdom unless he gave pledges “quod naves meas, quas sibi inveniam, non detinebit frater meus, vel aliquis suorum, ad dampnum meum.” _De Iniusta Vexatione_, in Simeon, _Opera_, i, p. 190. Some color seems to be given to the king’s fears by a statement in _Des miracles advenus en l’église de Fécamp_: “Adhibuit etiam mari custodes, quos illi _piratas_ vocant, qui naves ab Anglia venientes caperent, captos si redderent, capturam suis usibus manciparent.” Société de l’Histoire de Normandie, _Mélanges_, 2d series, p. 29. [54] Ordericus, iii, p. 291. William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, 468) is not in agreement, but the statement of Ordericus seems fully confirmed by the fact that Henry attested a charter by William Rufus in favor of the church of St. Andrew at Rochester: “This grant was made to repair the damage which the king did to the church of St. Andrew, when he obtained a victory over his enemies who had unjustly gathered against him in the city of Rochester.” Davis, _Regesta_, no. 301. [55] “In autumno,” according to Ordericus, iii, p. 291. [56] Ordericus, iii, pp. 291-292; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 269. According to Ordericus, Henry’s place of confinement was Bayeux, under the custody of Bishop Odo; according to William of Malmesbury and Robert of Torigny it was Rouen. [57] Ordericus, iii, p. 305; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468. Ordericus Vitalis recounts the event as if it came just after the death of Abbot Durand of Troarn, 11 February 1088. Cf. Ordericus, iii, p. 303; R. N. Sauvage, _L’abbaye de Saint-Martin de Troarn_ (Caen, 1911), p. 288. But Ordericus has already spoken of Henry’s captivity as beginning “in autumno,” 1088. _Supra_, n. 55. According to William of Malmesbury, he was released after a half-year’s detention. If we could rely upon this statement, and couple it with the earlier statement of Ordericus that the imprisonment began in the autumn of 1088, we could assign Henry’s release to the late winter or spring following (1089). [58] _Infra_, n. 62. [59] Ordericus, iii, p. 316. The English writers make no mention of the Winchester council. Ordericus indicates that appeals had been coming to William Rufus from the Norman church: “Ecce lacrymabilem querimoniam sancta ecclesia de transmarinis partibus ad me dirigit, quia valde moesta quotidianis fletibus madescit, quod iusto defensore et patrono carens, inter malignantes quasi ovis inter lupos consistit.” And in a later connection (iii, p. 421) he says specifically that Abbot Roger of Saint-Évroul sought aid from William Rufus. [60] Freeman, _William Rufus_, i, pp. 225-226. [61] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1090; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 26; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363; Ordericus, iii, p. 319. [62] _Ibid._, pp. 319-320; _De Controversia Guillelmi Rotomagensis Archiepiscopi_, in _H. F._, xiv, p. 68, and in _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 18. The work of corrupting the Norman baronage and winning them away from their allegiance to the duke was accomplished in 1089-90. Freeman assumes the Winchester assembly above mentioned to have been the Easter Gemot of 1090. _William Rufus_, i, pp. 222, and n. 1. But Ordericus seems to assign it to 1089—he records the death of William of Warenne, 24 June 1089, immediately after it—and we know from the _De Controversia Guillelmi_ that the struggle had already begun in Normandy in 1089, when Robert Curthose and King Philip besieged La Ferté-en-Bray. Further, the siege of Eu by Duke Robert in 1089 is probably to be connected in some way with the activities of William Rufus against him. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 310. [63] Ordericus, iii, p. 320. [64] Davis, _Regesta_, no. 310, a charter of confirmation by Duke Robert for Bishop Odo of Bayeux, dated 1089, “secundo anno principatus Roberti Guillelmi regis filii ac Normanniae comitis, dum idem Robertus esset ad obsidionem Auci ea die qua idem castrum sibi redditum est.” This would necessarily be not later than September. [65] _Ibid._, no. 308, a confirmation by Duke Robert in favor of Bayeux cathedral, dated 24 April 1089, “dum esset idem Robertus comes apud Vernonem … iturus in expeditionem in Franciam.” [66] The _De Controversia Guillelmi_ gives the specific date 1089. _H. F._, xiv, p. 68. William of Malmesbury, though vague, is in agreement. _G. R._, ii, p. 363. The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1090) and Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 26) assign King Philip’s intervention vaguely to 1090. [67] We learn the name of the castle from the _De Controversia Guillelmi_, in _H. F._, xiv, p. 68. The _Chronicle_ (_a._ 1090) and Florence (ii, p. 26) both refer to it without name. [68] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1090; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363. [69] Ordericus, iii, p. 351; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 469. [70] The name is found in the record of a suit before the court of Henry I in 1111: “in urbe Rothomagensi gravis dissensio inter partes Pilatensium scilicet et Calloensium exorta est que multa civitatem strage vexavit et multos nobilium utriusque partis gladio prostravit.” Haskins, pp. 91-92. Ordericus (iii, p. 252) indicates that the loyalists were clearly outnumbered by the rebels. [71] Ordericus, iii, pp. 351-353. [72] This, at any rate, is the account given by Ordericus Vitalis, who seems, however, at this point to feel rather more than his usual rancor towards the duke. [73] Ordericus, iii, pp. 352-357; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 469. [74] Ordericus, iii, pp. 344-346. [75] According to Ordericus (iii, pp. 365, 377) the crossing was made in the week of 19-25 January 1091; the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1091) dates it 2 February, while Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 27) more vaguely says “mense Februario.” William Rufus dated a charter at Dover 27 January 1091, probably soon before sailing for Normandy. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 315. The dating clause of this charter, “anno Dominicae incarnationis mill. xc, regni vero mei iiii, indictione xiii, vi kal. Feb., luna iii,” is not consistent throughout; but the year of the reign and of the lunation both compel us to assign it to 1091. Moreover, Ralph, bishop of Chichester, and Herbert, bishop of Thetford, both of whom attest, were not raised to their sees till 1091. Cf. Freeman, _William Rufus_, ii, pp. 484-485. Ralph appears to have been consecrated 6 January 1091. Stubbs, _Registrum Sacrum Anglicanum_. [76] Ordericus, iii, pp. 365-366, 377; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363. [77] Ordericus, iii, pp. 365-366, 377. [78] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270. [79] According to Robert of Torigny (_loc. cit._), “adminiculante Philippo rege Francorum.” It is a plausible hypothesis that William of Saint-Calais, the exiled bishop of Durham, played a part in these peace negotiations. Upon his expulsion from England, between 27 November 1088 and 3 January 1089, he went to Normandy and was received by Duke Robert “rather as a father than as an exile” (Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. 128) and had the administration of the duchy committed to his charge (_De Iniusta Vexatione_, in Simeon, _Opera_, i, p. 194); and he remained in Normandy and enjoyed a position of honor for three years. In 1089 he attested two of Duke Robert’s charters (Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 308, 310), and he also attested with the duke a charter by Hugh Painel [1089-91] (Haskins, p. 69, no. 16). Then in the third year of his expulsion, when the king’s men were being besieged in a ‘certain castle in Normandy’ and were on the point of being taken, he saved them from their peril, and by his counsel the siege was raised (Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. 128. Can this refer to the siege of Eu and to the pacification of February (?) 1091?) See Appendix B, _infra_, p. 215 and n. 14. [80] Ordericus, iii, p. 366. Robert of Torigny gives Caen as the meeting place. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270. But may he not have confused the peace negotiations with the general inquest into ducal rights and customs which the brothers held at Caen on 18 July of the same year? For this inquest see Haskins, pp. 277-278. [81] The date of the treaty is not given specifically, but according to Ordericus Vitalis (iii, p. 378) William and Robert, after they had made peace, besieged Henry at Mont-Saint-Michel for two weeks in the middle of Lent—according to Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 27), during the whole of Lent. The treaty, therefore, could hardly have been concluded later than the end of February. [82] Ordericus, iii, p. 366. [83] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270. [84] Ordericus, iii, p. 366; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. [85] Ordericus, iii, p. 366. [86] Specific mention of all the lordships which we know to have been won over by the king is not made in our accounts of the treaty, but they are all covered by general statements. Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 215-216; and the references given in nn. 83, 84, _supra_. [87] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091. [88] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363. [89] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 215-216. [90] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. Florence and the _Chronicle_ both add here a puzzling provision which seems to indicate that the king undertook to compensate Robert for his losses in Normandy with lands in England: “et tantum terrae in Anglia quantum conventionis inter eos fuerat comiti daret.” [91] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 216. [92] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 216. [93] _G. R._, ii, pp. 363-364; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 36. [94] _Supra_, p. 52. [95] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 211; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 269; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468; cf. Ordericus, iii, p. 350. [96] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468. [97] “Comes Henricus pedagium accepit de Chetelhulmo et de omni Constantino et super hoc facit operari homines Sancte Trinitatis de eadem villa et patria ad castella suorum hominum.” Cartulary of La Trinité of Caen, extract, in Haskins, p. 63. [98] Ordericus, iii, pp. 350-351, 378. [99] _Ibid._, p. 350; cf. pp. 318, 378; cf. also William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 468. [100] _Ibid._ [101] Ordericus, iii, p. 378; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 363-364; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 270. [102] Ordericus, iii, p. 378. [103] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 364; Ordericus, iii, p. 378; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. [104] Ordericus, iii, p. 378. [105] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. [106] Ordericus, iii, p. 378. Lent in 1091 extended from 26 February to 13 April. According to Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 27) the siege continued through the whole of Lent. [107] Ordericus, iii, p. 378; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 270-271; _Annales de Mont-Saint-Michel_, in _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, ed. Léopold Delisle (Rouen, 1872-73), ii, pp. 222, 232; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 364, 469-470; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 36; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ed. Andresen, ii, p. 409. [108] _Ibid._ Freeman remarks, “We may trust the topography of the Jerseyman.” _William Rufus_, i, p. 286, n. 1. [109] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 409; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. [110] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 364; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 410. [111] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 411. [112] _Ibid._ [113] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 412; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 271; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 27. These sources do indeed indicate an abandonment of the siege before its object was accomplished; but against them stands the very positive statement of Ordericus Vitalis, which is confirmed by the Annals of Winchester (_infra_, n. 114). Robert and William evidently did not enjoy a very complete triumph. Still there seems no doubt of Henry’s expulsion from the Cotentin. [114] Ordericus, iii, pp. 378-379; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 36; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 271. [115] Ordericus, iii, p. 379. [116] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365. He attests a charter of confirmation by William Rufus for the bishop of Durham, evidently while on the Scottish expedition late in 1091. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 318. [117] “Fereque duobus annis a bellis Normannia quievit.” Ordericus, iii, p. 379. [118] Haskins, pp. 277-284. [119] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365; Ordericus, iii, pp. 381,394; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 28; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 216. [120] Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 28) gives the date of the crossing as “mense Augusto”; and Ordericus Vitalis (iii, pp. 366, 377) indicates that 1 August was the date. Roger du Sap was elected abbot of Saint-Évroul on 21 July. Apparently he went immediately to the duke to seek investiture and found that the latter had already departed. _Ibid._, p. 381. The _Rotulus Primus Monasterii Sancti Ebrulfi_ dates the crossing of William and Robert in 1090. _Ibid._, v, p. 189. But this is evidently the error of a copyist. [121] _Supra_, p. 65, and n. 116. [122] “Ambo fratres de Neustria in Angliam ex insperato tranfretaverant, mirantibus cunctis.” Ordericus, iii, p. 381. [123] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365. Freeman rejects the testimony of William of Malmesbury regarding this Welsh campaign of 1091. _William Rufus_, ii, pp. 78-79. But I see no reason for so doing—especially since the statements coupled with it regarding Henry and the Scottish expedition are demonstrably accurate—; and how else explain the lateness of the Scottish campaign? William of Malmesbury says specifically: “Statimque primo contra Walenses, post in Scottos expeditionem movens.” [124] Ordericus, iii, p. 394; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 28; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091. [125] _Ibid._ [126] See Appendix B, _infra_, pp. 215-216. [127] _De Iniusta Vexatione_, in Simeon, _Opera_, i, p. 195. The bishop was believed to have regained the king’s favor through services which he rendered him in Normandy. Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. 128. In any case, under the amnesty provision of the treaty between Robert Curthose and William Rufus he was entitled to a restoration of his estates and honors in England. [128] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 28. For the reading ‘Lothian,’ instead of Leeds, see Freeman, _William Rufus_, ii, p. 541. Ordericus (iii, p. 394), in an obviously embroidered account, represents the two kings as facing one another from opposite sides of the Firth of Forth. But the English writers say specifically that Malcolm had advanced into Lothian to meet the English forces. [129] _Supra_, p. 31. [130] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 28; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 366; Ordericus, iii, pp. 394-395. [131] We have no other record of this homage. Can it have taken place in 1080, when Malcolm made his submission to Robert, who was then leading the Conqueror’s army against him? [132] Ordericus, iii, pp. 394-396. [133] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 28; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091. [134] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 29; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091. At some point on the homeward march the three brothers joined with a distinguished company of nobles and prelates in the attestation of a charter of the lately restored Bishop William of Durham. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 318; cf. Freeman, _William Rufus_, i, p. 305; ii, p. 535. [135] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 216. [136] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 29. [137] “In illis namque diebus, Willelmus, Anglorum rex strenuus, mortuus est, eiusque morte tota Cenomannorum regio perturbata.” _Actus Pontificum_, p. 385. [138] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 273: “Unde factum est, ut paulo post mortem ipsius regis idem dux Robertus, de quo nunc sermo est, in principio sui ducatus, iam tunc rebellionis contumaciam attentantes in ipsis suis finibus ducto exercitu Normannorum, eos compescuit”; Ordericus, iii, p. 327: “ipso [i.e., the Conqueror] mortuo statim de rebellione machinari coeperunt.” The statement of the _Actus Pontificum_ (_supra_, n. 137) is not convincing because the next sentence opens with the rebellion of 1090. Robert of Torigny shows himself poorly informed in these matters. The statement of Ordericus is vague, and his record elsewhere does not point to any serious disturbances till later in the reign. [139] Ordericus, iii, pp. 293, 296. [140] _Ibid._, pp. 289, 292. [141] _Ibid._, p. 293. [142] Ordericus, iii, p. 296. The fragment of a charter by Robert “Normannie princeps et Cenomannorum comes,” granting the tithe of his customs and rents at Fresnay to Saint-Vincent of Le Mans, should probably be assigned to this visit. _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 532. [143] Ordericus, iii, p. 269. [144] Osmond de Gaprée was killed at the siege on 1 September. Ordericus, iii, p. 297: Ordericus was probably well informed, since Osmond was buried at Saint-Évroul. This date makes it possible to say definitely that this expedition into Maine did not take place in 1087, for William the Conqueror did not die till 9 September of that year. It is not so clear that it did not take place after 1088; yet between this and the successful rebellion of 1090 there were the threatened disturbances which Fulk is said to have repressed for a year. Cf. Latouche, _Maine_, p. 40, n. 2. [145] Ordericus, iii, pp. 296-297. [146] _Ibid._, iii, p. 297. [147] _Supra_, p. 55. [148] Ordericus, iii, p. 320. [149] _Ibid._, pp. 320-323. [150] He granted Bavent, Noyon-sur-Andelle, Gacé, and Gravençon to William of Évreux, and Pont-Saint-Pierre to William of Breteuil, his nephew. Ordericus, iii, pp. 321-322. [151] Ordericus, iii, pp. 327-332; _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 385 ff.; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 272-273. [152] _Actus Pontificum_, p. 385. [153] Ordericus, iii, pp. 328-329; _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 385-386. [154] He was the son of Azzo II, marquis of Este, and Gersent, eldest daughter of Herbert Éveille-Chien. [155] _Actus Pontificum_, p. 386; Ordericus, iii, pp. 327-328. [156] “Ipse autem Rotbertus, ultra modum inertie et voluptati deditus, nichil dignum ratione respondens, que Cenomannenses fecerant, pro eo quod inepto homini nimis honerosi viderentur, non multum sibi displicuisse monstravit.” _Actus Pontificum_, p. 386. This is a remarkable corroboration of Ordericus Vitalis in his view of Robert’s character. [157] _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 387-390. Hoël’s presence in England early in 1091 is proved by his attestation of two charters by William Rufus, at Dover (27 January) and at Hastings. Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 315, 319. It is not unlikely that Hoël returned to Normandy with the king, who was evidently about to sail at the time the Dover charter was issued. [158] _Actus Pontificum_, pp. 391-392. He celebrated Easter (13 April) and Pentecost (1 June) at Solesmes; and arriving at La Couture 28 June, he observed the day of the Apostles on the 29th; and the ceremony in the cathedral church took place the day following. _Chartularium Insignis Ecclesiae Cenomanensis quod dicitur Liber Albus Capituli_ (Le Mans, 1869), no. 178; cf. _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 117. The year in which these events occurred requires some further discussion. Latouche, though admitting with Ordericus Vitalis (iii, p. 327) that the revolt began in 1090, still believes that Hugh did not arrive in Maine until after Easter 1091, that Hoël was in England from November to March 1091-92, and that his return and reconciliation with Hugh took place at the end of June 1092. _Maine_, pp. 41-44. Latouche bases his chronological deductions upon a charter by Hugh in favor of Marmoutier, given at Tours, according to Latouche, on 13 April 1091. Bibliothèque Nationale MSS., Collection Baluze, 76, fol. 14. Since Hugh does not bear the title of count in this document, Latouche argues that he had not yet arrived in Maine, and, therefore, that the subsequent events of the revolution must be carried forward through 1091 into 1092. The dating clause of the charter in question, as kindly furnished me by M. Henri Omont, is as follows: “Factum hoc mᵒ anno et lxxxxi. ab incarnatione Domini, indictione xiiii. anno xxxiiii. Philippi regis, primo anno R. archiepiscopatus, secundi Aurelianensis. Aderbal scolae minister secundarius scriptsit.” Granting that this is a document of the year 1091—which is by no means likely, in view of the year of the reign and of Ralph, archbishop of Tours—there still appears to be no reason why Latouche should assign it to the Easter date (13 April); and upon other evidence it is clear that Hugh arrived in Maine at a much earlier period: (1) It is not clear from the _Actus Pontificum_ (pp. 386-387), as Latouche supposes (p. 42, n. 6), that Hoël was already in Normandy upon Hugh’s arrival in Maine, but quite the contrary. (2) Ordericus Vitalis (iii, pp. 328, 330) indicates that Hugh was induced to come to Maine because Robert Curthose and William Rufus were at war, and that a strong argument in favor of his return to Italy was the fact that they had recently made peace and were meditating an attack upon Maine. This we know to have been in the spring and summer of 1091, and not in 1092 after William Rufus had returned to England. (3) A charter by William Rufus proves the presence of Hoël in England 27 January 1091, and not November-March 1091-92, as Latouche supposes. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 315. (4) Finally, two charters in favor of Saint-Julien of Tours, dated 11 November 1091, prove that Helias was already at that time count of Maine with Hoël’s approval, and incidentally show that Hoël was not then in England. _Charles de S.-Julien de Tours_, nos. 43, 44. [159] Ordericus, iii, pp. 329-330; cf _Actus Pontificum_, p. 393. [160] Ordericus, iii, p. 330. This gives an important synchronism for dating. [161] _Ibid._, iii, pp. 331-332; _Actus Pontificum_, p. 393; _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 117. [162] Bishop Hoël and Count Helias join in confirming a charter by Alberic de la Milesse, 11 November 1091. _Chartes de S.-Julien de Tours_, nos. 43, 44. Count Helias attests a confirmation by Fulk le Réchin, 27 July 1092. Halphen, _Anjou_, p. 320, no. 262. [163] _Supra_, pp. 66-67. [164] Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 308, 310, 324; Haskins, p. 285, no. 1. [165] _Supra_, p. 43. [166] Ordericus, iii, p. 263; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 288. [167] Ordericus, iii, pp. 321-322. [168] _Ibid._, pp. 297-298. [169] Castle of Montaigu. _Ibid._, p. 420. [170] _Ibid._, p. 333. [171] Castles of Saint-Saëns, Arques, and Bures. _Ibid._, p. 320. These grants to Helias proved to be a source of strength rather than of weakness. [172] Ordericus, iii, pp. 291-296. [173] “Verum deficiente alimonia castrum captum est, et praefatus municeps iussu irati ducis protinus oculis privatus est. Aliis quoque pluribus, qui contumaciter ibidem restiterant principi Normanniae, debilitatio membrorum inflicta est ex sententia curiae.” _Ibid._, p. 297. This is the only instance I have met with where Robert might be charged with cruelty. The distinction between the blinding of Robert Quarrel by the duke’s command and the mutilation of others by sentence of the _curia_ is curious. [174] _Ibid._, pp. 337-342. [175] See, e.g., Ordericus, iii, p. 299. [176] Ordericus, iii, p. 299. [177] _Ibid._, pp. 299-300. [178] _Ibid._, p. 358. [179] _Ibid._, pp. 301-302. [180] _Ibid._, pp. 333-334. [181] _Ibid._, pp. 361-366. [182] _Ibid._, pp. 417-420. [183] _Ibid._, v, p. 4. [184] Ordericus, ii, p. 469; iii, pp. 332-333, 335-336, 412-416. [185] _Ibid._, iii, pp. 332-333, 412. [186] _Ibid._, pp. 415-416. Robert of Torigny calls this “quamdam rem dignam memoria.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 290. [187] Ordericus, iii, pp. 344-348; _supra_, p. 58. [188] Ordericus, iii, pp. 384-385; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 271; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 413. [189] _Ibid._, p. 414; Ordericus, iii, p. 418. [190] “Ille vero contra Rodbertum, Normanniae comitem, viriliter arma sumpsit, incendiis et rapinis expulsionis suae iniuriam vindicavit, multosque cepit et carceri mancipavit.” Ordericus, iii, p. 385. [191] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 271-272. [192] Ordericus, iii, pp. 289, 303, 332, 357. [193] Haskins, pp. 63-64. [194] _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 532. [195] Ordericus, iii, pp. 297, 303, 381; Milo Crispin, _Vita Willelmi Abbatis Beccensis Tertii_, in Migne, cl, col. 717. [196] Round, _C. D. F._, no. 1115; Davis, _Regesta_, no. 342; Haskins, p. 70, no. 36. [197] Haskins, pp. 66-70. [198] _Supra_, p. 65. [199] Ordericus, iii, p. 420; Charter by Duke Robert in favor of La Trinité of Fécamp, in Haskins, p. 289, no. 4 _c._ [200] For a full discussion of Robert’s government, see Haskins, pp. 62-78. [201] _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 221. [202] _H. F._, xiv, p. 68. [203] Ordericus, iii, p. 379. [204] _Ibid._, p. 381. [205] Eadmer, _Historia Novorum in Anglia_, ed. Martin Rule (London, 1884), p. 37; _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iii, no. 10, in Migne, clix, col. 31. [206] _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iii, no. 15, in Migne, clix, col. 39; cf. _ibid._, nos. 8, 14; Milo Crispin, _Vita Willelmi Abbatis_, in Migne, cl, col. 717. [207] _De Controversia Guillelmi_, in _H. F._, xiv, pp. 68-69; Heinrich Böhmer, _Kirche und Staat in England und in der Normandie im xi. und xii. Jahrhundert_ (Leipsic, 1899), p. 146. According to Böhmer, the suspension of Archbishop William took place towards the end of 1093. There is an unpublished tract by the ‘Anonymous of York’ upon the exemption of the monastery of Fécamp in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, MS. 415, pp. 264-265. Cf. Karl Hampe, in _Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde_, xxii (1897), pp. 669-672; Böhmer, _op. cit._, pp. 177, 180. [208] _Supra_, p. 68. [209] “This power he reserves for his brother, King William, as well as for himself.” Davis, _Regesta_, no. 327. [210] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 33, MS. C, in note; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. [211] Eadmer, p. 43. [212] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 33, MS. C, in note; cf. Eadmer, p. 47. [213] _Ibid._, cf. Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 347, 348. [214] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 33, MS. C, in note. In 1094 Lent extended from 22 February to 9 April. If by ‘Midlent’ an exact day is designated, it was probably Sunday, 19 March. [215] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 33, and MS. C, in note; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. Florence of Worcester is the sole authority for ‘Campus Martius’ and for the fact that after the conferences Robert went to Rouen and William Rufus to Eu. Henry of Huntingdon mentions only the final meeting. A phrase in a letter of Bishop Ivo of Chartres makes it not improbable that King Philip was present at this conference: “iturus vobiscum ad placitum quod futurum est inter regem Anglorum et comitem Normannorum.” _H. F._, xv, p. 82, no. 28; cf. Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, p. 299. But the letter is undated, and proof is lacking that it refers to the conference of 1094. There is no basis for Fliche’s assumption that the meeting between William and Robert took place at Pontoise or at Chaumont-en-Vexin. Ivo’s letter contains no such evidence. The above mentioned places are named only as a rendezvous for Philip and Ivo preparatory to proceeding to the meeting between Robert and William. [216] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 34. [217] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 34; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. [218] References as in n. 217, _supra_. [219] Argentan is pretty clearly, though not certainly, the place designated. Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 34), who seems generally best informed on these events, has “Argentinum,” about which there can be no question. The readings of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1094) and of Henry of Huntingdon (p. 217) are “castel aet Argentses” and “Argentes,” which might refer to Argentan or Argences. Thomas Stapleton says that the place in question was Argentan. _Magni Rotuli Scaccarii Normaniae sub Regibus Angliae_ (London, 1840-44), ii, p. xxx. I cannot discover that there was any castle at Argences in the eleventh century. [220] Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 34-35; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. [221] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 35; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. [222] According to Henry of Huntingdon (p. 217), they actually besieged Eu. [223] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094. [224] _Ibid._, _a._ 1094; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 217. [225] Fliche sets forth the extraordinary hypothesis that there was no war between William Rufus and Robert Curthose in 1094, though he admits the meeting between them and the unsuccessful attempt at a reconciliation. He bases his hypothesis upon the fact that Ordericus Vitalis makes no mention of the war of 1094, and that the account of the campaign of 1094 as set forth in the English sources bears certain resemblances to that of 1091. He argues that the English writers in their confusion have assigned events to 1094 which really belong to 1091—in brief, that there was only one campaign, that of 1091: “Et alors ne faudrait-il pas reporter toute la campagne racontée ici à l’année 1090-1091?” _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, pp. 298-300. In point of fact there is far less duplication between the events of 1090-91 and 1094 than Fliche supposes, and such resemblances as exist are readily accounted for by the fact that William Rufus had his headquarters at Eu on both occasions and pursued the same general policy throughout his dealings with Robert Curthose and King Philip. It may be admitted as extraordinary that the events of 1094 have escaped the attention of Ordericus Vitalis; but to reject the highly circumstantial accounts of the English writers is to betray a strange lack of appreciation of the range and accuracy of their information. [226] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1094. [227] _Ibid._ According to Henry of Huntingdon (p. 218), the king’s original order had been to proceed to London. [228] Eadmer, p. 52. [229] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1095; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 35. [230] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1095; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 218. CHAPTER IV THE CRUSADE The year 1096 marks the beginning of a new era in the history of western civilization as well as in the life of Robert Curthose. On 27 November 1095,[1] Pope Urban II had preached his momentous sermon before the assembled multitude at Clermont, and ‘the gates of the Latin world were opened’[2] upon the East. “It was the miracle of the Lord in our time,” writes Henry of Huntingdon, “and a thing before unheard of in all the ages, that such divers peoples and so many distinguished princes, leaving their splendid possessions, their wives, and their children, set forth with one accord and in scorn of death to seek the most unknown regions.”[3] It was natural that the stirring words of Pope Urban should find a ready hearing among the ‘untamed race of the Normans.’[4] The great adventurers of their age, they were destined to play the most vigorous and aggressive, if not the most devout and single-minded, part in the supreme adventure of the Latin world in the Middle Ages. Moreover, the situation of Duke Robert at home was such that new fields of opportunity and adventure offered peculiar attractions to him. Lacking the indomitable energy of his great forbears and the Norman genius for organization, government, and law, surrounded by enemies both within and without his dominions, his tenure of the duchy had become a heavy burden. His war with William Rufus still dragged on. Disloyal barons continued to desert to the English cause; and twenty Norman castles were said to be in the Red King’s hands. Prince Henry, long firmly established at Domfront, and now backed by the strong arm and the long purse of his older brother, had gained control of ‘a great part of Normandy’; and the ‘soft duke’ had fallen into contempt among his turbulent subjects. Disobedience and disorder were everywhere on the increase, and the unarmed population lacked a protector.[5] An expedition to the Holy Land at the head of a splendidly equipped band of knights, with new scenes and new adventures and plenary indulgence for past sins, offered a welcome prospect of escape from the trying situation in which Duke Robert found himself in the spring of 1096.[6] Yet the First Crusade was a papal, not a Norman, enterprise.[7] At the provincial council of Rouen which was convened in February, 1096, for the purpose of ratifying the canons of the council of Clermont, there is, oddly enough, no evidence that the projected Crusade was taken under consideration by the Norman clergy.[8] The initiative of the Pope, on the other hand, was clear-cut and vigorous, and his activity can be traced with some fulness. From Clermont Urban proceeded on a tour of western France; and passing northward through Poitou and Anjou early in 1096, he arrived at Le Mans in the middle of February and was at Vendôme near the end of the month. Then turning back southward, he was still occupied with the Crusade in a council at Tours in March.[9] The Pope seems not to have entered Normandy at all; but he was close to the border while in Maine and at Vendôme, and it is not improbable that it was during this period that he took the first steps towards launching the Crusade in the Norman lands. Pope Urban’s first duty, if he wished to raise large forces in Normandy for the Crusade, was obviously the promotion of peace between the warring sons of William the Conqueror. It was not to be thought of that Robert Curthose should lead a Norman army to the liberation of the Holy Sepulchre while William Rufus continued the struggle to deprive him of his duchy. Accordingly, the Pope sent Abbot Gerento of Saint-Bénigne of Dijon as his special agent to undertake the delicate task of negotiating a peace.[10] The abbot was with William Rufus in England at Easter (13 April) 1096.[11] He crossed to Normandy before the end of May;[12] and remaining there throughout the summer, brought the peace negotiations to a successful termination, and accompanied the crusading host upon the initial stages of its journey as it departed in the autumn.[13] It may be conjectured that during this whole period Gerento was engaged in the work of promoting the Crusade in Normandy; and this conclusion is fully in accord with the statements of the chroniclers that Duke Robert took the cross “at the admonition of Pope Urban”[14] and “by the counsel of certain men of religion.”[15] The treaty which had been concluded at the abbot’s instance was wisely drawn to meet the exigencies of Robert’s situation. Not only did it bring about the necessary peace, but upon such terms as to provide the impecunious duke with ample funds for his distant enterprise. Normandy was to be taken in pledge by William Rufus, and in exchange Robert was to receive a loan of 10,000 marks of silver.[16] The date at which this bargain was struck cannot be exactly determined, but, in any case, it was early enough to allow the king time to extort money from his unfortunate subjects by means which provoked a general outcry.[17] An aid (_auxilium_) was demanded of the barons, and an extraordinary Danegeld was levied at the rate of four shillings to the hide throughout the kingdom. Though the clergy had from early times been exempted from this tax, their privileges were not now respected; and they were obliged to pay their full share along with the lay nobles.[18] Churches were stripped of their ornaments in order that the sum might be raised.[19] Meanwhile, in Normandy and the surrounding lands, preparations for the Crusade had been going steadily forward; though it must be owned that we have but slight information concerning the measures which were taken, beyond what may be inferred from the occasional record of a mortgage of lands to a religious house in exchange for a loan of ready cash for the journey,[20] or from the names of a relatively small number of men and women[21]—less than fifty in all—who, stirred by religious impulse, the spirit of adventure, or the hope of gain, followed the duke’s example and took the cross. So far as it is possible to describe it at this distance, Robert Curthose certainly travelled at the head of an interesting and honorable company, which, drawn not only from Normandy but from the surrounding lands, was altogether worthy of the dignity of the Conqueror’s eldest son. To attempt a comprehensive enumeration would be tedious, but the names of at least the more important of the duke’s companions should be recorded.[22] Of the Norman bishops, the only ones who took the cross were Odo of Bayeux and Gilbert of Évreux. Both had been present at the council of Clermont as ‘legates’ of their fellow bishops; and Odo, at any rate, had been in touch with Abbot Gerento in Normandy during the summer of 1096. Yet it is doubtful whether he was a very active promoter of the Crusade, for some, at least, believed that he had taken the cross for personal reasons rather than out of zeal for the Holy War. He had been driven from England after the failure of the rebellion against William Rufus in 1088, and the king’s wrath against him had not been appeased. Rather than remain in Normandy to become the subject of his bitter enemy, he preferred to undertake the hardships of the distant pilgrimage. Among the lay nobles from Normandy who accompanied Robert on the Crusade we meet with no very great names; but it is interesting to note that the list contains not only such life-long friends of the duke as Ivo and Alberic of Grandmesnil, but also—a fruit of the recent pacification—his late enemies Count Stephen of Aumale and Gerard of Gournay. The great house of Bellême was represented by Philip the Clerk, one of its younger scions. Mention should also be made of Roger of Barneville, an obscure knight from western Normandy, who was destined to lose his life in a skirmish with the Turks at Antioch, and whose noble character and unexampled bravery made him a great favorite with the army. The neighboring lands of northern France contributed an equally distinguished company to Duke Robert’s forces. His cousin, Count Robert of Flanders, and his less heroic brother-in-law, Count Stephen of Blois and Chartres, both found it to their advantage to travel with him, as did also Alan Fergant, duke of Brittany, and a notable list of Bretons. Among these latter may be mentioned Alan, the steward of Archbishop Baldric of Dol;[23] Ralph de Gael, the one-time earl of Norfolk whose treason had caused the Conqueror to drive him forth from England; Conan de Lamballe, who was killed by the Turks at Antioch; and Riou de Lohéac, who died while on the Crusade, but sent back to the church of his lordship a casket of precious relics which included a portion of the true cross and a fragment of the Sepulchre. From Perche came Rotrou of Mortagne, son of the then reigning Count Geoffrey. And from the Flemish border came old Hugh, count of Saint-Pol, and his brave son Enguerrand, who gave his life for the Christian cause at Marra in Syria; Walter of Saint-Valery and his valiant son Bernard, who according to one account was the first to scale the wall of Jerusalem. The forces of Duke Robert also included a number of Manceaux,[24] but Helias of La Flèche, the count of Maine, was not among them. Stirred by the common impulse, he had taken the cross, apparently designing to travel with Robert Curthose. But when he learned that William Rufus would grant him no peace, but proposed to bring Maine back under Norman domination by force of arms, he was obliged to abandon his undertaking and remain at home to defend his county.[25] From England, strangely enough, only two crusaders of known name and history have come to light among the followers of Robert Curthose: the Norman William de Percy, the great benefactor of Whitby abbey, and Arnulf of Hesdin, a Fleming. Neither, it will be observed, was a native Englishman. The Anglo-Saxon chronicler remarks that the preaching of Pope Urban caused “a great excitement through all this nation,”[26] and English mariners are known to have coöperated with the crusaders on the Syrian coast.[27] Yet England still lay largely beyond the range of continental affairs and the great movements of world history, and the part played by the English in the First Crusade appears to have been of minor importance. William of Malmesbury observes truly that ‘but a faint murmur of Asiatic affairs reached the ears of those who dwelt beyond the British Ocean.’[28] The standard-bearer of Duke Robert throughout the Crusade is said to have been Pain Peverel, the distinguished Norman knight who later was granted a barony in England by Henry I and became the patron of Barnwell priory. As his chaplain, or chancellor, Robert took Arnulf of Chocques, the clever Flemish adventurer who had long served in the ducal family as preceptor of his eldest sister, Princess Cecilia, and who later rose to the dignity of patriarch of Jerusalem.[29] And finally mention should be made of Fulcher of Chartres, the well known historian of the Crusade, who travelled with the ducal forces as far as Marash in Armenia, and who up to that point may almost be regarded as the official historiographer of the northern Norman contingent. While preparations for the Crusade were being pushed forward in Normandy and the adjoining lands, William Rufus had completed the work of collecting English treasure for the Norman loan, and in September 1096[30] he crossed the Channel. Meeting the duke, apparently at Rouen,[31] he paid over the 10,000 marks which had been agreed upon, and received the duchy in pledge.[32] Thus was Robert supplied with funds for his distant journey, and when this most necessary matter had been arranged, final preparations were speedily brought to an end, and the duke took his place at the head of his forces. Near the end of September, or early in October,[33] amid tearful but courageous leave-takings from friends and loved ones,[34] the crusaders set forth upon their long pilgrimage. As they moved forward over the first stages of the march, their numbers were considerably augmented by additional forces which flowed in from districts along the way.[35] At Pontarlier on the upper waters of the Doubs, Abbot Gerento of Dijon and his faithful secretary, Hugh of Flavigny, who had accompanied the host thus far, and must have viewed with much satisfaction the successful culmination of their enterprise, took their leave of the leaders and turned back.[36] From Pontarlier the route probably lay by the well known road of pilgrimage and commerce past the great monastery of Saint-Maurice and over the Alps by the Great St. Bernard to Aosta, and thence across the valley of the Po and over the Apennines to Lucca.[37] At Lucca the crusaders were met by Urban II, who conferred with the leaders, Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Blois, and gave his blessing to the departing host as it moved on southward and came to Rome ‘rejoicing.’[38] But in the basilica of St. Peter the crusaders found little joy, for the great church, with the exception of a single tower, was in the hands of the men of the anti-Pope, who, sword in hand, seized the offerings of the faithful from off the altar, and from the roof hurled down stones upon the pilgrims as they prostrated themselves in prayer.[39] Saddened by such outrages, but not delaying to avenge them, they pushed on southward, pausing at Monte Cassino to ask a blessing of St. Benedict as they passed,[40] and came to the port of Bari.[41] Already tidings of the great enterprise which Pope Urban had launched had stirred one of the ablest chiefs of the southern Normans to action. Bohemond, prince of Taranto, the oldest son of Robert Guiscard, was engaged in the siege of Amalfi with his uncle, Count Roger of Sicily, when news reached him that early contingents of French crusaders had already arrived in Italy. The possibilities of the great adventure fired his ardent imagination, and, “seized with a divine inspiration,” he took the cross. Then, dramatically ordering his magnificent cloak to be cut into crosses, he distributed them among such of the knights present as were willing to follow his example; and so great was the rush of men to his standard, that Count Roger found himself almost deserted, and was obliged to abandon the siege and retire in dudgeon to Sicily.[42] Before the arrival of Robert Curthose and the northern Normans, Bohemond had already crossed the Adriatic at the head of a splendid band of knights and entered upon the road to Constantinople. The hopes of Robert and his followers to make an immediate crossing and push on in the footsteps of Bohemond were doomed to disappointment. When they arrived at Bari, winter was already close at hand, and the Italian mariners were unwilling to undertake the transport of such an army in the inclement season.[43] Duke Robert and Count Stephen, therefore, were obliged to turn aside and winter in Apulia and Calabria.[44] Only the more active Robert of Flanders with his smaller forces managed to make the winter passage and push on towards Constantinople.[45] Meanwhile, Roger Bursa, duke of Apulia, received Robert of Normandy with much honor “as his natural lord” and supplied him with abundant provisions for himself and his noble associates.[46] Many of the poorer crusaders, however, were confronted with a grave problem. To winter peacefully in a friendly country which they could not plunder seemed quite out of the question; and, fearing lest they should fall into want, they sold their bows, and, resuming pilgrims’ staves, turned back ‘ignominiously’ to their northern homes.[47] Their more fortunate comrades, the nobles, however, found generous hospitality among friends;[48] and the winter months must have passed pleasantly for these northern Normans in the sunny Italian climate among their distinguished kinsmen. Bishop Odo of Bayeux, still vigorous and active, in spite of his advanced years, crossed over to Sicily, and paid a visit to Count Roger’s beautiful capital at Palermo. There he was taken with a fatal illness, and died early in 1097. His fellow bishop, Gilbert of Évreux, buried him in the great cathedral church of St. Mary; and Count Roger reared a splendid monument over his grave.[49] With the return of spring, in the month of March, Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Blois assembled their forces at Brindisi and prepared to push on to Constantinople, the general rendezvous of all the crusading armies. The embarkation was marred by a tragic accident. One of the vessels broke up and went to pieces almost within the harbor with some four hundred souls on board, besides horses and mules and quantities of money. Overwhelmed by fear in the presence of such a catastrophe, some of the more faint-hearted landsmen abandoned the Crusade altogether and turned back homeward, declaring that they would never entrust themselves to the deceitful waves. Doubtless more would have followed their example, had it not been discovered that the bodies washed ashore after the wreck bore upon their shoulders the miraculous imprint of the cross. Encouraged by this token of divine favor, the crusaders place their trust in the omnipotent God, and, raising sail on Easter morning (April 5) amid the blare of many trumpets, pushed out to sea.[50] Sailing before a gentle breeze, they made the passage without further accident, and landed on the fourth day at two small ports some ten miles distant from Durazzo. Thence, passing Durazzo, they advanced along the ancient Roman road, the Via Egnatia, with few adventures and by relatively rapid marches towards Constantinople.[51] The route lay up the valley of the Skumbi and through a mountainous region to Ochrida, the ancient capital of Bulgaria, and then on past Monastir and across the Vardar to Salonica on the Aegean, a city ‘abounding in all good things.’ There the crusaders pitched their tents and rested for four days, and then pushed on by the coast road through Kavala and Rodosto to Constantinople, where they encamped outside the city and rested for a fortnight in the latter half of May.[52] The magnificent oriental capital with its noble churches and stately palaces, its broad streets filled with works of art, its abounding wealth in gold and silver and rich hangings, its eunuchs, and its busy merchants from beyond sea,[53] made a deep impression upon the minds of the crusaders, although they were not permitted to view it at great advantage. For earlier bands who had gone before them had not passed through the city without plundering, and the Greeks had learned to be wary. The Emperor Alexius ordered the crusaders to be well supplied with markets outside the walls, but only in bands of five or six at a time would he permit them to enter the city of wonders and pray in the various churches.[54] Meanwhile, the leaders, Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Blois, were being sumptuously entertained and assiduously flattered by the Emperor.[55] The real contest between him and the crusading chieftains had already taken place and been practically settled before the arrival of the northern Normans.[56] After the greater leaders, Godfrey of Bouillon and Bohemond, had yielded to the Emperor’s demands and entered into treaty relations with him, he had clearly gained his point, and it was not to be supposed that he would meet with serious obstacles in dealing with the princes who came later. Least of all were such difficulties to be expected in Robert Curthose and Stephen of Blois. Both promptly took the oath that was required of them;[57] for, explains Fulcher of Chartres—evidently voicing a sentiment which had become general—it was necessary for the crusaders to consolidate their friendship with the Emperor, since without his support and coöperation they could not advance freely through his dominions, and it would be impossible for fresh recruits to follow by the route which they had taken. When Robert and Stephen had satisfied the demands of the Emperor, he loaded them with gifts of money and silks and horses, and, providing ships, had them ferried over with their forces to the Asiatic shore.[58] As they advanced beyond Nicomedia past the battle field where the forces of Peter the Hermit had met disaster the previous winter, the Normans were moved to tears at the sight of the whitening bones which still lay unburied;[59] but pressing on without pausing, they reached Nicaea in the first week of June.[60] There they received an enthusiastic welcome from the crusaders who had preceded them and who, since the middle of May, had been besieging the city; and, passing around to the southern side, they took up their position before the walls between the forces of Robert of Flanders and Raymond of Toulouse.[61] For the remainder of the expedition the exploits of Robert are for the most part merged in the general action of the Crusade and must, for want of detailed information, be narrated briefly. Though a leader of the first rank, Robert was hardly to be compared with Godfrey of Bouillon, Bohemond, or Raymond of Toulouse. He has, therefore, received but an incidental treatment at the hands of the contemporary writers. It is not recorded that Robert and his forces in any way distinguished themselves at the siege of Nicaea. They had arrived too late to share in the splendid victory over Kilij Arslan (Soliman II), sultan of Iconium, on 16 May.[62] Doubtless they were also too late to play an important part in the construction of the elaborate siege machinery which formed so marked a feature in the operations against the city. On 19 June Nicaea surrendered;[63] and Robert hurried away with the other leaders to congratulate the Emperor upon the victory and to share in the rich gifts which Alexius was bestowing upon the Franks as a reward for their services.[64] Events moved rapidly after the fall of Nicaea. By 26 June some of the crusaders were already on the march. Robert with his habitual slackness took a more leisurely leave of the Emperor[65] and did not advance till two days later. But he quickly came up with the rest of the forces at a bridge over a small tributary of the Sangarius; and from that point the whole crusading host moved forward on the morning of 29 June before daybreak.[66] Either by accident or design the army was separated into two divisions,[67] which advanced by different, but roughly parallel, routes. At the head of the smaller force, mainly composed of Normans, marched the Norman leaders, Robert Curthose, Bohemond, and Tancred. Raymond, Godfrey, Hugh of Vermandois, and Adhemar, bishop of Le Puy, with their followers made up the larger division. As the Normans pitched camp on the second evening their scouts reported the enemy’s presence ahead, and special watches were set to guard the tents; but the night passed without incident. When, however, on the following morning (1 July) the march was resumed, the way was soon barred by the enemy in force under the command of Kilij Arslan. The Normans hastily prepared for battle; and towards eight or nine o’clock an engagement was begun which continued with uninterrupted fury till well after midday. Though the Normans fought valiantly, they could not long maintain the unequal contest. The mounted knights were hurled back in disorder upon the foot soldiers; and the heroic efforts of Bohemond and Robert to rally their forces and resume the offensive were of no avail. The crusaders, greatly outnumbered, and terrified by the outlandish modes of warfare practiced by their enemies, were overwhelmed and thrown back in wild confusion upon their camp. It was a desperate moment. The Christian forces were packed together “like sheep in a fold.” Priests were praying, knights were prostrate confessing their sins. The panic was general. But suddenly, when all seemed lost, relief came. Earlier in the day a messenger had been despatched to the crusaders of the other division, who were advancing at some distance by a separate route. When they learned of the desperate plight of the Normans, they rushed to arms, and, by hard riding across country, arrived upon the scene of battle barely in time to save their companions from annihilation. Strengthened by these reënforcements, the Normans quickly re-formed their battle order and renewed the contest; and the Turks, unexpectedly confronted by an enemy doubled in numbers, turned in flight and were swept from the field. The crusaders pursued them till nightfall, plundered their camp, and took quantities of booty.[68] There can be no doubt that Robert Curthose fought bravely, as befitted one of his ancestry,[69] on the field of Dorylaeum. But the accounts, nearly contemporary though they be, which picture him as the supremely brave leader, whose heroic action checked the rout of the Christians and saved the day, belong rather to the realm of legend than of sober history.[70] A just estimate based upon strictly reliable sources must recognize that Robert divided the honors of Dorylaeum with Bohemond and the other leaders, but must assign him a part in the battle somewhat subordinate to that played by the great leader of the southern Normans. The rout of the Turks at Dorylaeum opened the way through Asia Minor; and on 4 July,[71] after a two days’ halt to rest and to bury the dead,[72] the crusaders entered upon the long march to Antioch, the great Seljuk stronghold in northern Syria.[73] No serious opposition was encountered from the enemy; and on 20 October,[74] after three and a half months of varied hardships, they arrived at the so-called Iron Bridge (Djisr el-Hadid) over the Orontes a few miles above Antioch. Robert Curthose led the vanguard[75] which encountered outposts of the enemy at the bridge and defeated them in a sharp engagement; and that night the crusaders camped beside the river.[76] Next day (21 October) they pushed on to Antioch and took up their positions before the city.[77] The siege of Antioch was a problem fit to try the resources, spirit, and endurance of the greatest commander. Its massive walls and towers, far superior to anything then known in western Europe, rendered it impregnable by assault. It was held by a strong garrison under the command of a resourceful emir; and the besiegers were in constant danger from a sortie in force. Moreover, the beleaguered garrison was not to be left without assistance; and more than once the crusaders had to meet and drive off a relief force in greatly superior numbers. And finally, the food problem soon became so acute as to threaten the besiegers with starvation; and to hunger were added the hardships of the winter season. Plainly this was not the kind of warfare which appealed to the easy-going, pleasure-loving Robert of Normandy. During the early stages of the siege, while the abundant supplies of a fertile district still held out, he played his part with courage and spirit, as, for example, when he joined with Bohemond and Robert of Flanders in a victorious fight against the Turks on the Aleppo road near Harim in November.[78] But when, in December, the crusaders began to feel the pinch of famine,[79] Robert could not withstand the temptation to withdraw to more pleasant winter quarters at Laodicea.[80] Though the preaching of the Crusade had aroused little enthusiasm among the upper classes in England, it had met with a curious response among the English seamen. Assembling a considerable fleet, they had passed the Straits of Gibraltar and arrived off the Syrian coast well in advance of the crusading forces which were making their way across the highlands of Asia Minor; and in concert with the Emperor—who, it must not be forgotten, was coöperating with the crusaders both by land and sea—they had captured Laodicea and established themselves there before the land forces had arrived at Antioch. Well stocked with provisions from Cyprus, and protected from pirates by the English fleet, which secured its trade communications with the islands, Laodicea offered tempting quarters for one who had tired of the rigors of the winter siege at Antioch. Moreover, the English mariners appear to have been menaced in their possession by wandering bands of the enemy in the surrounding country and in need of reënforcements. Accordingly, they appealed to Robert of Normandy as their most natural lord among the crusading chieftains, and besought him to come to Laodicea as their protector. Accepting this invitation with alacrity, Robert retired from Antioch in December 1097, and, joining his friends at Laodicea, gave himself up to sleep and idleness, content with forwarding a part of the abundant provisions which he enjoyed to his suffering comrades at the siege. The situation of the besiegers, however, was precarious, and they could not long remain indifferent to the absence of so important a leader as Robert. Soon they summoned him to return; and when their appeal met with no response, they repeated it and finally threatened him with excommunication. Thus pressed, Robert had no choice but to yield, and, very reluctantly turning his back upon the comforts of Laodicea, he returned to the hardships of the siege. Robert was back at Antioch for the crisis of 8 and 9 February 1098, which was brought on by the arrival of Ridwan of Aleppo at the head of a large Turkish relief force. He attended the war council of 8 February which determined upon a plan of action;[81] and next day, while Bohemond and the mounted knights were winning their splendid victory over the forces of Ridwan,[82] he assumed command, along with the bishop of Le Puy and the count of Flanders, over the foot soldiers who remained behind to maintain the siege and guard the camp.[83] And though the Turkish garrison attempted a sortie in force from three gates, Robert and his comrades kept up a hard but victorious struggle throughout the day, and at nightfall drove the enemy back within the walls.[84] From the defeat of Ridwan of Aleppo until the capture of Antioch, 3 June 1098, we lose sight of Robert completely; and it must remain a matter of doubt whether he was privy to the secret negotiations by which Bohemond, corrupting a Turkish guard, succeeded at last in opening the gates of the impregnable fortress.[85] Robert was certainly present at the capture of Antioch[86] and played his part honorably in the trying days which followed. The month of June brought the crusaders face to face with the gravest crisis with which they had yet been confronted. The citadel of Antioch still held out against them; and, within two days after their victorious entrance into the city, advance guards of a vast Moslem army under the command of Kerboga of Mosul arrived before the gates. By the 8th of the month the Franks were compelled to burn their outworks and retire within the walls, themselves to stand a siege.[87] Though not especially mentioned, Robert doubtless took his part in the all-day struggle of 10 June; and when, next morning, it was discovered that a panic was spreading through the ranks, and that some of the forces, followers of Robert among them, had already let themselves down over the wall and fled,[88] he promptly joined with the other leaders in the solemn oath by which they mutually bound themselves to stand firm to the end.[89] And when finally, on 28 June, it was decided to stake all on a battle with Kerboga in the open, he led the third division[90] in the action and shared in the greatest victory of the Christians during the First Crusade. A few days later he attended the council at which it was determined, in view of the summer heat and the scarcity of water, to postpone the advance upon Jerusalem until 1 November;[91] and with that the leaders parted company. How Robert passed the summer months, it is impossible to say. Probably he sought cooler and more healthful quarters away from pest-ridden Antioch. But he was evidently there again on 11 September, for he joined the other leaders in the letter to Urban II in which they recounted the progress of the Crusade, reported the death of Bishop Adhemar of Le Puy, and urged the Pope himself to come and join them.[92] Robert was certainly at Antioch on 1 November, the day set for the general advance upon Jerusalem.[93] But the advance was again delayed by a bitter quarrel which had broken out between Bohemond and Raymond of Toulouse over the possession of Antioch.[94] And now we find Robert, in the rôle of peacemaker, joining with the other disinterested leaders who desired to respect their pledges to the Emperor in an effort to arbitrate the difficulties.[95] But all these efforts were in vain, for when the arbitrators had arrived at a decision on the merits of the case, they lacked authority to enforce their judgment, and dared not announce it lest matters should be made worse. Finally, however, a truce was agreed upon in the hope of continuing the Crusade;[96] and Robert departed with Raymond and others to lay siege to Marra.[97] But hardly had this place been taken (11 December),[98] when the quarrel between Bohemond and Raymond flamed up afresh; and now the controversy spread from the leaders to the ranks, and the army was divided into two bitter factions.[99] Again Robert joined the other leaders in council at Rugia in an attempt to bring about a reconciliation;[100] but again all efforts failed, and Raymond and Bohemond remained at enmity. Meanwhile, the count of Toulouse, yielding to popular pressure in the army, determined upon an independent advance to Jerusalem; and in order to isolate his rival the more effectually, he undertook to hire other leaders to follow him. To Godfrey of Bouillon and to Robert Curthose he offered 10,000 _solidi_, to the count of Flanders 6000, to Tancred 5000, and to others in accordance with their dignity.[101] Tancred definitely closed with the offer,[102] and there is reason for believing that Robert Curthose also accepted it.[103] In any case, Robert joined Raymond and Tancred at Kafartab, 14 January 1099, and two days later the three leaders moved southward with their followers towards Jerusalem, Robert and Tancred leading the vanguard while Raymond brought up the rear. As they moved southward up the beautiful valley of the Orontes, panic-stricken emirs along their line of march sent to purchase peace at any price and poured out their wealth in gifts, while the plunder of a fertile countryside supplied the crusaders with still greater abundance.[104] Crossing the river at a ford a short distance above Shaizar, they made their way over the mountainous divide and descended towards the sea into the rich valley of El-Bukeia.[105] Halting there for a fortnight’s rest and the celebration of the Purification,[106] they crossed the valley and encamped before the great fortress of Arka on the northern slopes of Lebanon (14 February). The neighboring port of Tortosa fell into their hands almost immediately, and when easy communication with the sea had thus been secured, they settled down to the siege of Arka.[107] This caused another delay of three months, and though Robert, Raymond, and Tancred each built siege towers,[108] no progress was made towards reducing the fortress. Even with the aid of Godfrey and Robert of Flanders, who came up with their forces 14 March, all their efforts were unavailing.[109] Meanwhile, fresh disputes arose within the ranks of the army; and the Provençals, who at Marra had vented their rage upon Bohemond and his followers, now turned against Robert and the northern Normans. The genuineness of the so-called Holy Lance had been called in question.[110] Many of the Normans believed that the discovery of the Lance at Antioch had been a mere hoax got up by the vision-loving followers of Count Raymond; and on this question opinion in the army was sharply divided.[111] Arnulf of Chocques, Duke Robert’s chaplain, was regarded as the “chief of all the unbelievers,”[112] and upon him the bitter hatred of the Provençals was concentrated. An attempt was made to settle the controversy by an ordeal; but this resulted indecisively, and each side continued to believe as before. Arnulf was firmly supported by the duke and the Norman party generally, and the attacks of his enemies met with no success.[113] While time was thus being wasted in disputes and recriminations the season was rapidly advancing; and since Arka showed no signs of capitulating, the leaders, Duke Robert among them, decided to abandon the siege and push on forthwith to Jerusalem.[114] Breaking camp 13 May, they advanced along the coast road by rapid marches, and on 7 June arrived before the Holy City,[115] ‘rejoicing and exulting.’[116] Of the multitudes who had set out from Europe three years before, comparatively few had endured to complete this last stage of the pilgrimage. Not only were the ranks of the army greatly thinned, but half of the leaders had either fallen behind or turned back. The bishop of Le Puy had died at Antioch the previous August; Baldwin, Duke Godfrey’s brother, had turned aside to become count of Edessa; Bohemond had remained to pursue his ambitious schemes at Antioch; Hugh of Vermandois had been sent upon a mission to the Emperor; and Stephen of Blois had deserted and returned to Europe to face the reproaches of his more heroic Norman wife. With forces so diminished, a complete investment of Jerusalem was out of the question. If the city was to be taken at all, it would have to be carried by storm. The crusaders, therefore, selected approaches and prepared for an assault upon the walls. If, as has been suggested, Robert Curthose had been, since the previous January, in the hire of Raymond of Toulouse,[117] the connection between them was now severed; and during the siege of Jerusalem Robert’s operations were strategically combined with those of Duke Godfrey and Robert of Flanders. With them he took up his position before the northern wall to the west of St. Stephen’s church.[118] The assault upon the city on 13 June failed miserably through the almost complete lack of siege machinery; and it became clear that far more elaborate preparations would have to be made. It was decided, therefore, to construct at all costs two movable wooden siege towers and other apparatus.[119] Count Raymond assumed responsibility for one of the towers; the providing of the other was undertaken by Godfrey, Robert Curthose, and Robert of Flanders.[120] Owing to the barrenness of the region around Jerusalem, wood for the construction was not to be had near at hand; but guided by a friendly Syrian Christian, the two Roberts with a band of knights and foot soldiers made their way to a distant forest in the hills ‘in the direction of Arabia’, and, loading wood upon camels, brought it back to Jerusalem, where the building operations were pushed forward with feverish activity for almost four weeks.[121] When the work had almost reached completion, Godfrey and his associates determined upon a sudden change of plan; and, during the night of 9-10 July, they had their tower and other engines taken apart and moved a mile eastward towards the valley of Jehoshaphat, to a point where level ground offered a good approach, and where the wall was weaker, not having been reënforced by the beleaguered garrison.[122] During the next three days the siege tower and other apparatus were again assembled and set in order for action; and at dawn 14 July the assault was begun.[123] All day long it was pressed with vigor, and though the defenders fought with the heroism of desperation, endeavoring to set fire to the tower as it was moved forward,[124] all their efforts failed. Next morning at daybreak the attack was renewed, Robert Curthose and Tancred operating the mangonels which cleared the way for the tower to be rolled up close to the wall.[125] The garrison still stood stoutly to the defence and let down bags filled with straw to break the shock of the missiles hurled from the mangonels. The Christians were filled with discouragement.[126] But as the hour approached at which the Saviour was raised upon the cross (9 A.M.), their mighty effort at last was crowned with success.[127] With burning arrows they managed to fire the sacks of straw with which the wall was protected; and as the flames burst forth the defenders were compelled to retire. Then dropping a bridge from the tower to the wall, the crusaders rushed across and carried all before them.[128] Soon the gates were opened and the city was given over to carnage and plunder.[129] With victory assured, the blood-stained warriors paused momentarily in their work of destruction, and, “rejoicing and weeping from excess of joy,” turned aside to render adoration at the Sepulchre and fulfil their vows;[130] but not for two days were the pillage and slaughter ended.[131] It remained for the crusaders to elect a ruler of the newly conquered city and territory. After two conferences[132] and much discussion the choice of the leaders fell upon Godfrey of Bouillon, the position having first been offered to Raymond of Toulouse.[133] “Though unwilling,” Godfrey was elected “advocate of the church of the Holy Sepulchre.”[134] A generation later the belief was widely current that the honor had also been offered to Robert Curthose and declined by him;[135] but it rests upon no acceptable contemporary authority, and appears to have been a later invention. Hardly had Godfrey been raised to his new dignity when he became involved in a dispute with the count of Toulouse, not unlike the quarrel which had arisen between Raymond and Bohemond after the capture of Antioch. Raymond was holding the Tower of David and declined to hand it over to the new ruler. But Godfrey was strongly supported in his just demand by Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders and by many even of Raymond’s own followers, who were eager to return home and desired the count to lead them; and under pressure Raymond, always sensitive to popular opinion, was obliged to yield.[136] It was during this same period that Duke Robert’s chaplain, Arnulf of Chocques, was raised to the dignity of acting patriarch of Jerusalem (1 August).[137] Though only a priest—perhaps not even in subdeacon’s orders—and of obscure birth, he had contrived by his learning, personality, and eloquence to make himself the leader of the anti-Provençal party; and his elevation to this high position was another notable victory for the enemies of Count Raymond. Meanwhile a new peril arose to menace the crusaders in the enjoyment of their conquests. Before any of the leaders had completed their preparations for the homeward journey, news arrived that the emir Malik el-Afdhal, grand vizier of the caliph of Egypt, was rapidly approaching at the head of a great army.[138] Once more the crusaders were to be put to the test of a battle in the open with an enemy in greatly superior numbers. On 11 August the leaders concentrated their forces in the vicinity of Ascalon and prepared for battle.[139] Next morning at dawn they advanced into a pleasant valley near the seashore and drew up their forces in battle order. Duke Godfrey led the left wing, farthest inland, Count Raymond the right beside the sea, while the centre was commanded by the two Roberts, Tancred, and Eustace of Boulogne.[140] When all was ready, the crusaders moved forward, while the Saracens held their positions and awaited the attack.[141] As the opposing forces came together Robert Curthose perceived the standard of the emir—a lance of silver surmounted by a golden sphere—which served as the rallying point for the Saracen forces; and charging the standard-bearer at full speed, he wounded him mortally[142] and caused the standard itself to be captured by the crusaders. Spurred on by Robert’s brilliant example, the count of Flanders and Tancred dashed forward to the attack and carried all before them right into the enemy’s camp. The victory of the centre was complete; and the Saracens broke and fled, many of them being slain by the Christians who pursued them. Vast quantities of booty were taken and borne away by the victors to Jerusalem.[143] Robert of Normandy purchased for twenty marks of silver the standard of the emir, which had been captured by his own heroic act, and presented it to Arnulf, the acting patriarch, to be placed in the church of the Sepulchre as a memorial of the great victory.[144] With the battle of Ascalon the contemporary histories of the Crusade come abruptly to an end, and it becomes more difficult than ever to piece together a connected account of the exploits of Robert Curthose in the Holy Land. If the account of Ordericus Vitalis can be trusted, he again assumed the rôle of mediator, together with Robert of Flanders, in the fresh quarrel which broke out between Godfrey and the count of Toulouse over the expected surrender of Ascalon.[145] But his efforts met with no success, and the Saracens, learning of the dissension among the leaders, closed their gates. For more than fifty years Ascalon remained in the hands of the enemy, a constant menace to the peace and prosperity of the Latin Kingdom. Nothing now remained to detain longer in the Holy Land Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders, and other crusaders who had no personal ambitions to promote. Having bathed in the Jordan and gathered palms at Jericho according to the immemorial custom of Jerusalem-farers,[146] they took leave of Godfrey and Tancred and set forth upon the homeward journey in company with Count Raymond.[147] As they proceeded northward by the coast road they learned that Bohemond had taken advantage of their absence in the south to lay siege to the friendly city of Laodicea. But making a short halt at Jebeleh, they quickly came to an understanding with the Laodiceans; and when they had compelled Bohemond to retire from his disgraceful enterprise, they were received into the city with great rejoicing.[148] It was then the month of September.[149] Raymond, who by this time—as Chalandon has made perfectly clear[150]—was acting in close agreement with Alexius, garrisoned the fortresses in the Emperor’s name and remained to hold the city against the machinations of Bohemond.[151] After a brief sojourn at Laodicea, Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders and many of their comrades continued their homeward journey by sea,[152] embarking, apparently, upon imperial ships and sailing for Constantinople, where they were magnificently received by the Emperor.[153] To all who would enter his service he offered great rewards and honors; but the two Roberts desired to push on homeward without delay. Accordingly, he presented them with rich gifts and granted them markets and a free passage through his territories; and so they returned to Italy and were received with great rejoicing by Roger of Sicily, Roger Bursa, Geoffrey of Conversano, and other relatives and compatriots.[154] Here Duke Robert paused and comfortably rested upon his enviable reputation while he enjoyed the sumptuous entertainment of admiring friends and made plans for the future. His position during this second sojourn in Italy was indeed an enviable one. For once in his life he had played a distinguished part in a great adventure worthy of the best traditions of the Normans. It is true that he had not displayed so great energy and resourcefulness as some of the other leaders. Bohemond and Tancred, had they been present, might in a measure have eclipsed his fame. But for the moment he stood without a rival; and it is little wonder that he gained the hand of one of the great heiresses of Norman Italy together with a dower sufficiently rich to enable him to redeem his duchy.[155] The Crusade had been a fortunate venture in the life of Robert Curthose. He had set out from Normandy with a record of continuous failure and a reputation for weakness and incompetence. He was now returning with all the prestige and glory of a great crusading prince, his past sins and failures all forgotten. He was soon to become a hero of romance; and, among modern writers, Freeman has not hesitated to praise him as a skilled commander, “ever foremost in fight and council.”[156] But a careful reading of the sources hardly justifies the bestowal of such praise. Robert had, it is true, shown some fine qualities as a crusader. He had kept faith with the Greek Emperor and won his lasting gratitude. His generosity and good-fellowship had gained him many friends and followers,[157] and it is not recorded that any one was his enemy. As a warrior he had always fought with distinguished bravery, and in the battle of Ascalon, at least, he had performed a greater feat of arms than any of his comrades. He had gone to the Holy Land with no ulterior ambitions, and in this respect he stands in happy contrast with the self-seeking Bohemond and the grasping count of Toulouse. His disinterestedness had gained him a certain distinction enjoyed by no other crusader, save perhaps his cousin, Count Robert of Flanders; and it is not without reason that he appears frequently among the peacemakers, who in the general interest undertook to reconcile the quarrels of rival leaders. Yet he was still the same indulgent, affable, ‘sleepy duke,’[158] who had failed in the government of his duchy once and was to fail again. Though brave and active in the moment of danger, he was in no sense comparable as a general or as a statesman with such leaders as Bohemond and Godfrey; and on the whole the judgment of Freeman must be reversed. Robert was, so far as we know, never foremost in council; he was rarely foremost on the field of battle; and he showed no particular capacity for generalship. But with such qualities as he possessed, he was content to coöperate harmoniously with the more active and resourceful leaders, persevering on the way until the pagan had been vanquished and the Sepulchre had been won. Not unnaturally he returned to Europe in the enjoyment of fame and honor. FOOTNOTES [1] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 9. [2] Matthew of Edessa, _Chronique_, in _H. C. A._, i, p. 24. [3] P. 219. [4] “Indomita gens Normannorum.” Ordericus, iii, p. 474. [5] Ordericus, iii, pp. 475-476. [6] _Ibid._, p. 476. Ordericus evidently believes that the duke’s unfortunate situation in Normandy was his chief reason for taking the cross: “Denique talibus infortuniis, Rodbertus dux, perspectis anxius, et adhuc peiora formidans, ut pote ab omnibus pene destitutus, … decrevit terram suam fratri suo regi dimittere; et cruce Domini sumpta, pro peccatis suis Deo satisfacturus, in Ierusalem pergere.” [7] Cf. Louis Bréhier, _L’église et l’Orient au moyen âge: les croisades_ (Paris, 1907), pp. 52-62. [8] Cf. Ordericus, iii, pp. 470 ff. [9] For the papal itinerary see Philipp Jaffé, _Regesta Pontificum Romanorum_ (2d ed., Leipsic, 1885-88), i, pp. 681-685. [10] Hugh of Flavigny, _Chronicon_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, viii, p. 475. [11] _Ibid._ [12] Hugh of Flavigny, the abbot’s companion and secretary, drew up a charter for Duke Robert at Bayeux 24 May 1096. Haskins, p. 67, no. 4, and n. 19; cf. p. 76, n. 34; and _supra_, p. 18, n. 6. [13] Haskins, pp. 75-76, and the sources there cited. [14] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p 371. [15] Ordericus, iii, p. 476. [16] Hugh of Flavigny, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, viii, p. 475; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 274-275; Ordericus, iii, p. 476; iv, p. 16; Eadmer, p. 74; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1096; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 40; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 371; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 38. There is disagreement as to the term of the loan. According to Hugh of Flavigny it was to be for three years, according to Ordericus five, and according to Robert of Torigny until the duke’s return from the Crusade. [17] Eadmer, pp. 74-75; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 40; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 371-372. [18] _Leges Edwardi Confessoris_, in _Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen_, ed. Felix Liebermann (Halle, 1898-1912), i, pp. 636-637; “Et hanc libertatem habuit sancta ecclesia usque ad tempus Willelmi iunioris, qui de baronibus totius patrie auxilium petiit ad Normanniam retinendam de fratre suo Rodberto eunte in Ierusalem. Ipsi autem concesserunt ei quatuor solidos de unaquaque hyda, sanctam ecclesiam non excipientes. “Quorum dum fieret collectio, clamabat ecclesia, libertatem suam reposcens; sed nichil sibi profuit.” A later recension adds that the grant was made, “non lege statutum tamen neque firmatum, sed hac necessitatis causa.” [19] It is difficult to see why this should have been such a burden, but the contemporary writers leave no doubt as to the resentment which it aroused. William of Malmesbury (_G. P._, p. 432) is very bitter against the abbot of Malmesbury because of his action on this occasion and very specific as to the sufferings of his church: “Denique die uno .xii. textus Evangeliorum, .viiiᵗᵒ. cruces, .viiiᵗᵒ. scrinia argento et auro nudata et excrustata sunt.” Eadmer (p. 75) tells how Anselm was obliged to borrow two hundred marks from the cathedral treasury, placing his demesne vill of Peckham in _vif gage_ for seven years as security.—On _vif gage_ see R. Génestal, _Rôle des monastères comme établissements de crédit_ (Paris, 1901), pp. 1-2. [20] E.g., a charter published by Léopold Delisle in _Littérature latine et histoire du moyen âge_ (Paris, 1890), pp. 28-29. All such documents as have come to light are cited in connection with individual crusaders in Appendix D. [21] For the women with Duke Robert’s forces see Appendix D, nos. 6, 10, 13, 14. [22] For a full list of Robert’s known companions on the Crusade, with all the evidence concerning them, see Appendix D. [23] It was perhaps through this Alan that the names of so many Breton crusaders have been preserved in the history of Baldric of Dol, from which they have been copied by Ordericus Vitalis. [24] They are mentioned in a general way as taking part in the battle with Kerboga at Antioch, 28 June 1098: “In tertia Rodbertus dux Normannorum, cum xv milibus Cenomannorum, Andegavorum, Britonum, et Anglorum.” Ordericus, iii, p. 555. There is a good deal of documentary evidence bearing upon crusaders from Maine, which, however, is in no case quite sufficient to prove that any individual Manceau whom we can identify actually went on the First Crusade. It will be found in Appendix D, nos. 22-24, 27, 30, 38, 47. An anonymous work entitled _Noblesse du Maine aux croisades_ (Le Mans, 1859), pp. 13-14, gives a list of twenty-five noble Manceaux who answered Pope Urban’s call. The list is valueless, however, since no evidence or authority is cited in any case, and the work is obviously based upon no sufficient criticism. [25] Ordericus, iv, pp. 37-38. [26] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1096. [27] See Appendix E, pp. 231-232. [28] _G. R._, ii, p. 431. [29] See Appendix C. [30] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 40. [31] Cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 37: “Ea tempestate qua Rodbertus dux fratri suo Normanniam commisit, et ab eo magnam argenti copiam, ad explendum iter ad sepulchrum Regis nostri, recepit, Helias comes ad curiam regis Rotomagum venit. Qui, postquam diu cum duce consiliatus fuit, ad regem accessit, eique humiliter dixit…” Freeman places the meeting “at some point of the border-land of the Vexin, at Pontoise or at Chaumont,” citing as authority a letter of Ivo of Chartres (_H. F._, xv, p. 82); but he has quite arbitrarily assigned to 1096 a letter which clearly does not belong to that period. _William Rufus_, i, p. 559; cf. _supra_, p. 84, n. 215. [32] Cf. _supra_, n. 16. [33] Fulcher of Chartres, _Historia Hierosolymitana_ (1095-1127), ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer (Heidelberg, 1913), p. 159, and n. 21. Fulcher first wrote ‘September’ and later changed it to ‘October.’ Ordericus Vitalis (iii, p. 483) and William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, p. 402) both place the departure in September. Hagenmeyer probably explains the discrepancy correctly when he remarks that all did not depart at exactly the same time. [34] Fulcher, pp. 162-163. The passage is highly rhetorical, but Fulcher, it should be remembered, was an eyewitness. [35] _Ibid._, p. 161. [36] Hugh of Flavigny, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, viii, p. 475. [37] For the stages of this route see the remarkable itinerary of Abbot Nicholas Saemundarson of Thingeyrar (in northern Iceland) who made the pilgrimage to the Holy Land between 1151 and 1154. E. C. Werlauff, _Symbolae ad Geographiam Medii Aevi ex Monumentis Islandicis_ (Copenhagen, 1821), pp. 18-25. It is summarized by Paul Riant, _Expéditions et pèlerinages des Scandinaves en Terre Sainte_ (Paris, 1865), pp. 80 ff. [38] Fulcher, p. 164; cf. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 20; Ordericus, iii, p. 486. [39] Fulcher, pp. 164-166. [40] Petrus Diaconus, _Chronica Monasterii Casinensis_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, vii, p. 765; cf. the letter of Emperor Alexius to Abbot Oderisius of Monte Cassino, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, pp. 140-141. [41] Fulcher, p. 166; Petrus Diaconus, _loc. cit._ [42] _G. F._, pp. 147 ff.; Lupus Protospatarius, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, v, p. 62; cf. Ferdinand Chalandon, _Histoire de la domination normande en Italie et en Sicilie_ (Paris, 1907), i, pp. 301-302. William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, pp. 390, 453), on the other hand, represents the crafty Bohemond as responsible for the inception of the whole crusading movement, a view which is accepted and developed at great length by Sir Francis Palgrave, _History of Normandy and England_ (London, 1851-64), iv, p. 484 _et passim_. H. W. C. Davis is also tempted by it. _England under the Normans and Angevins_ (London, 1905), p. 102. But in the face of the positive testimony of the _Gesta Francorum_ and of Lupus Protospatarius it is untenable. [43] Fulcher, p. 167. [44] _Ibid._, pp. 167-168; Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 20; Ordericus, iii, p. 486. [45] Fulcher, p. 168. [46] Ordericus, iii, p. 486. [47] Fulcher, p. 168. But probably many had only intended to make the pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Nicholas of Bari. Cf. _Miracula S. Nicolai conscripta a Monacho Beccensi_, in _Catalogus Codicum Hagiographicorum Latinorum in Bibliotheca Nationali Parisiensi_, ed. the Bollandists (Brussels, 1889-93), ii, p. 422. Fulcher of Chartres (p. 167) notes that many of the crusaders turned aside to pray at the church of St. Nicholas. [48] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 409. [49] See Appendix D, no. 29. [50] Fulcher, pp. 168-171. [51] Fulcher of Chartres (pp. 172-175) gives a full itinerary: “ante urbem praefatam [i.e., Durazzo] transivimus. Itaque Bulgarorum regiones per montium praerupta et loca satis deserta perreximus. Daemonis ad flumen rapidum tunc venimus omnes… Mane autem aurora clarescente, … iter nostrum adripuimus conscendendo montem, quem Bagulatum nuncupant. Postea montanis postpositis urbibusque Lucretia, Botella, Bofinat, Stella, pervenimus ad flumen, quod vocatur Bardarium… Quo transito, sequenti die ante urbem Thessalonicam … tentoria tetendimus nostra… Deinde Macedoniam transeuntes, per vallem Philippensium et per Crisopolim atque Christopolim, Praetoriam, Messinopolim, Macram, Traianopolim, Neapolim et Panadox, Rodosto et Eracleam, Salumbriam et Naturam Constantinopolim pervenimus.” For identification of place names see Hagenmeyer’s notes, _ibid._ [52] Fulcher, pp. 175-176. [53] _Ibid._, pp. 176-177. [54] _Ibid._, pp. 175-176. [55] Letter of Stephen of Blois to his wife Adela, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, pp. 138-139; cf. Fulcher, p. 178. [56] For the relations of Alexius with the crusaders see the admirable discussion by Ferdinand Chalandon, _Essai sur le règne d’Alexis Iᵉʳ Comnène_ (Paris, 1900), ch. vi, especially pp. 175-186. [57] Fulcher, p. 178; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 413; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 314. [58] Fulcher, p. 179; letter of Stephen of Blois, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 139. [59] Fulcher, p. 180. [60] _Ibid._, pp. 182-183; letter of Stephen of Blois, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 139; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 239; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 153. [61] Fulcher, p. 181, and n. 4; _G. F._, pp. 186-187. [62] Albert of Aix reports Robert as taking part in this battle; but he is in direct disagreement with the testimony of eyewitnesses, and is clearly wrong. _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 320. [63] See the sources collected in Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 160. [64] Letter of Stephen of Blois, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 140; cf. Anna Comnena, in _H. C. G._, i, 2, p. 46. [65] Fulcher, p. 189, and n. 3. [66] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 167. [67] According to the _Gesta Francorum_ (p. 196) the division was accidental and due to darkness; and this appears to be the meaning of Raymond of Aguilers (_H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 240). Fulcher of Chartres (p. 194) confesses that he does not know the cause of the separation. Ralph of Caen (_H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 620-621) explains that there were two opinions, but leans to the view that the division was accidental. Albert of Aix (_ibid._, iv, pp. 328-329), on the other hand, says that it was intentional. Cf. Hagenmeyer’s note in Fulcher, p. 194; Reinhold Röhricht, _Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges_, p. 90. [68] Fulcher, pp. 190-198; _G. F._, pp. 196-205; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 240; letter of Anselm de Ribemont, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 145; Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, 620-622, 625 ff.; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, pp. 329-332. [69] Guilbert of Nogent, _ibid._, iv, p. 160; Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, iii, p. 622. [70] See Chapter VIII, pp. 193-194. [71] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 172. [72] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 332-333; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 170. [73] On the route and the events of the march in general see Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 172, 175-179, 181-204, and the sources there collected. At Heraclea the army was divided, Baldwin and Tancred with their followers taking the southern route through the Cilician Gates, Robert and the other leaders with their forces making a long detour to the northward through Caesarea Mazaca, Coxon (the ancient Cocussus), and Marash, and finally approaching Antioch from the northeast. Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 357-358: the fact is also implied in the other sources, especially Fulcher of Chartres, who writes in the first person until his separation from the Norman forces at Marash and his departure for Edessa as chaplain of Baldwin. [74] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 200. [75] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 362. [76] _G. F._, pp. 239-241; letter of Anselm de Ribemont, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 145; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 362-363. [77] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 203. On the positions taken up by the various contingents see Röhricht, _Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges_, p. 110. [78] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 242; cf. _G. F._, pp. 245-247; letter of Anselm de Ribemont, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 145. [79] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 214. [80] Laodicea ad Mare (modern Latakia), the seaport on the Syrian coast directly opposite the island of Cyprus. For all that follows concerning Laodicea and Robert’s connection therewith see Appendix E. [81] Tudebode, _Historia de Hierosolymitano Itinere_, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 43. [82] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 233. [83] Tudebode, _loc. cit._ Albert of Aix (_H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 381, 385) and Henry of Huntingdon (pp. 223, 224) erroneously make him lead one of the six divisions of knights under Bohemond. [84] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 233. [85] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 260, 262, 264, 265. According to Bruno of Lucca, Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders both had a hand in the secret negotiations. Letter of the clergy and people of Lucca, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 166. But Bruno, though present at the capture of Antioch, was clearly not well informed about these matters, and great importance cannot be attached to his statement. According to Baldric of Dol (_H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 55) and Ordericus Vitalis (iii, p. 537), Robert was among the chiefs to whom Bohemond confided his plans on the eve of putting them into execution. This is in no way unlikely, but Baldric and Ordericus are not independent, and it must be acknowledged that they are a very uncertain authority for such a point as this. The writers who were on the ground make no mention of Robert Curthose in this connection. [86] Letter of the clergy and people of Lucca, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 166; Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 657. [87] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 267, 269-274, 276, 278. [88] The brothers William and Alberic of Grandmesnil were among the fugitives. _G. F._, pp. 332-334; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 256; Baldric of Dol, _ibid._, iv, p. 64; Ordericus, iii, p. 545; Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 194; Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, iii, p. 662; Tudebode, _ibid._, iii, p. 67; _Historia Belli Sacri_, _ibid._, iii, p. 200. (In citing the last work I follow the practice of Hagenmeyer’s _Chronologie_ in retaining the caption of Mabillon’s edition, though the title given in the Academy edition to which reference is made is _Tudebodus Imitatus et Continuatus_. The author is conjectured to have been a Norman from southern Italy who took part in the Crusade and afterwards settled at Antioch. He wrote after 1131.) William of Grandmesnil did not set out with Robert from Normandy, but went from southern Italy. According to Tudebode, Ralph of Caen, and the _Historia Belli Sacri_, Ivo of Grandmesnil was also among the fugitives. This act of cowardice made a deep impression upon contemporaries. Ralph of Caen writes: “At fratres, pudet, heu! pudet, heu! Normannia misit.” Guibert of Nogent, as a friend of the family, declines to mention the family name in connection with the incident. [89] _G. F._, p. 340; Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 196; cf. Raymond of Aguilers, _ibid._, iii, p. 256. The purpose of the measure was to restore the morale of the rank and file. [90] _G. F._, pp. 368-370; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 259. Or possibly he led the second division, the count of Flanders leading the third. The two Roberts evidently fought in close coöperation. Letter of Anselm de Ribemont, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 160; Fulcher, p. 255; Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 666; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 422. During the battle a new division was formed from the forces of Robert Curthose and Godfrey in order to checkmate an attempt of the Turks to outflank the crusaders. _G. F._, p. 373. [91] _Ibid._, pp. 382-385; Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 208; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 298. [92] _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 161. [93] _G. F._, p. 394-395; Tudebode, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 87; cf. Raymond of Aguilers, _ibid._, iii, p. 266; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 448; Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 321. [94] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 261-268; _G. F._, pp. 379-380, 394-395. [95] At a series of conferences held in the basilica of St. Peter at Antioch. _Ibid._, pp. 394-395; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 434; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 323. [96] _G. F._, pp. 395-396; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 267-268. [97] Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 674; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 448; cf. _G. F._, pp. 402-403, and n. 9. [98] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 329. [99] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 270-271; _G. F._, p. 410; Fulcher, pp. 267-268. [100] _G. F._, p. 411; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 335. [101] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 271. [102] _Ibid._, p. 278. [103] This is made probable by the fact that Robert alone of all the important leaders joined Raymond and Tancred in the advance upon Jerusalem. Robert was still in the company of Raymond at Caesarea. Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 460. But upon the arrival of the crusaders before Jerusalem, the point at which the contract should have terminated, he promptly separated from Raymond; and thereafter during the siege he acted in close association with Godfrey of Bouillon and Robert of Flanders. Cf. _infra_, p. 112. [104] _G. F._, pp. 414 ff.; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 272-273; cf. Fulcher, p. 268. [105] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 341-345. For a detailed study of this itinerary see Hagenmeyer’s notes in _G. F._, pp. 414-419. [106] _G. F._, pp. 419 ff. [107] _Ibid._, pp. 425-428; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 275-276. [108] Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, p. 680. [109] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 352-354, 359-360. [110] For the discovery of the Lance at Antioch and the use to which it was put during the critical days of the struggle between the crusaders and Kerboga, see Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 277, 284, 285, 288, 291, and the sources there cited. [111] _Ibid._, no. 363. [112] “Arnulfum, capellanum comitis Normanniae, qui quasi caput omnium incredulorum erat.” Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 281. [113] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 364, 367. [114] _G. F._, pp. 436-437; Fulcher, pp. 270-271. [115] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 371-385. Guibert of Nogent says that Robert Curthose laid siege to Acre during the advance upon Jerusalem; but that he was called away by Godfrey. _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 257. Ibn el-Athir also reports an attack upon Acre as the crusaders advanced upon Jerusalem. _Kamel-Altevarykh_, in _H. C. Oc._, i, p. 198. [116] _G. F._, p. 448. [117] _Supra_, p. 109, and n. 103. [118] _G. F._, pp. 449-450; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 293; Fulcher, p. 297; Ralph of Caen, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 687; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 463. It was evidently at this point that, according to Ordericus Vitalis, Robert was joined by Hugh Bunel, son of Robert de Jalgeio, the fugitive assassin of Countess Mabel, the cruel wife of Roger of Montgomery. Hugh had been provoked to the crime in 1082 because Mabel had violently deprived him of his lawful inheritance, and he had been obliged to flee for his life. He had gone first to Apulia and Sicily and then to Constantinople. But still being pursued by the spies whom William the Conqueror and Mabel’s powerful family had employed to take his life wherever they might find him, he had fled from Christendom altogether; and for many years had dwelt among the Moslems, whose language and customs he had learned. He now offered his services to Robert Curthose, who received him kindly; and, being an excellent warrior and familiar with all the deceptions and stratagems which the pagans practised against the Christians, he was able to be of great service to the crusaders. Ordericus, iii, pp. 597-598. [119] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, nos. 388-389, 391. [120] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 297; _G. F._, pp. 461-462. [121] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 467-468; cf. _G. F._, pp. 462-463; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 297. [122] _Ibid._, p. 298; _G. F._, pp. 462-463; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 471; cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 399. [123] _Ibid._, no. 403. [124] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 476-477. [125] Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, iii, pp. 692-693. [126] _G. F._, p. 464; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 299; Guibert of Nogent (_ibid._, iv, p. 226) particularizes as to Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders: “Est etiam mihi non inferiore relatione compertum Rotbertum Northmanniae comitem, Rotbertumque alterum, Flandriarum principem, iunctis pariter convenisse moeroribus, et se cum fletibus uberrimis conclamasse miserrimos, quos suae adoratione Crucis et visione, immo veneratione Sepulchri tantopere Ihesus Dominus iudicaret indignos.” [127] _G. F._, pp. 464-465, and n. 15. [128] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 299-300; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 427. [129] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 405. [130] _G. F._, pp. 473-474. [131] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 407. [132] _Ibid._, nos. 408-409. [133] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 301. [134] Letter of the leaders to the Pope, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 168; _G. F._, pp. 478-480, n. 12. [135] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236; _Historia Belli Sacri_, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 225; cf. Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 485. [136] Raymond of Aguilers, _ibid._, iii, p. 301. [137] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 413; cf. _G. F._, p. 481, n. 14. [138] _Ibid._, pp. 485-486, and n. 21; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 302-303; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 490. [139] Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 420. Robert Curthose with characteristic indolence remained in Jerusalem with Raymond until the enemy was almost at hand, announcing that he would not go out unless he had more certain assurance that a battle was really to take place. He and Raymond did not lead their forces out from Jerusalem till 10 August _G. F._, pp. 486-488; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 305; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, p. 491. [140] _G. F._, pp. 493-494; cf. Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 494. [141] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 494. [142] _G. F._, pp. 494-495; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 497; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 429-430. [143] _G. F._, pp. 499-501. [144] _Ibid._, pp. 498-499; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 497; Baldric of Dol, _ibid._, p. 110. [145] Ordericus, iii, pp. 620-621; cf. Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 497-498; Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, iii, p. 703. Hagenmeyer studies the whole problem in _G. F._, pp. 500-502, n. 94. [146] Fulcher, p. 319, and n. 2. [147] _Ibid._, pp. 319-320; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 499; letter of Dagobert, Godfrey, and Raymond to the Pope, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 173; Ordericus, iv, p. 69. [148] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 499-500, 502-503; Ordericus, iv, pp. 70-72; letter of Dagobert, Godfrey, and Raymond to the Pope, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, P. 173. [149] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 503; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 69. [150] _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, pp. 205 ff. [151] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 503-504. [152] _Ibid._, p. 504. [153] Ordericus, iv, pp. 72-75; Fulcher, pp. 319-320. Though Ordericus knew the work of Fulcher, which he calls “certum et verax volumen” (iii, p. 459), he appears at this point to be entirely independent of it. [154] Ordericus, iv, pp. 75-76, 77-78. [155] _Ibid._, pp. 78-79; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461; cf. _infra_, pp. 123-124. [156] William Rufus, i, pp. 560, 564. Palgrave goes so far as to say, “Robert had earned an entirely new reputation. The thoughtless spendthrift was transiently disciplined into prudence, the dissolute idler reformed into a happy and affectionate husband.” _History of Normandy and of England_, iv, p. 673. [157] Ralph of Caen, in describing the positions at Antioch, says: “Ab altero autem latere Blesensis, Boloniensis, Albamarensis, Montensis, Sancti-Paulensis, et Hugo Magnus; nam omnes his comitis Normanni muneribus, aliqui etiam hominagio obligabantur.” _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 642. [158] This favorite characterization of Ordericus Vitalis is confirmed by Ralph of Caen and by Guibert of Nogent. _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 649; iv, p. 149. CHAPTER V FAILURE TO GAIN THE ENGLISH CROWN While Robert Curthose was loitering in southern Italy, enjoying the hospitality of Norman friends and kinsmen, events of immense importance for him were taking place beyond the Alps. On 2 August 1100 William Rufus was slain while hunting in the New Forest.[1] News of the tragedy quickly reached the ears of Henry Beauclerc, his younger brother, who was a member of the royal party; and without a moment’s delay he put spurs to his horse and galloped away to Winchester, the seat of the royal treasury, and as lawful heir (_genuinus haeres_) imperiously demanded the keys of the keepers. But the interests and the superior claims of Robert Curthose did not go undefended in that hour. William of Breteuil, son of William Fitz Osbern, had also been a member of the king’s hunting party; and foreseeing Henry’s design, he had ridden hard upon his heels to Winchester. Arriving upon the scene before Henry had gained possession of the treasure, he protested that Robert’s rights should be respected. Robert, he declared, was beyond a doubt the Conqueror’s eldest son; Henry had done him homage and sworn fealty to him as his lord; Robert had long labored in the Lord’s service on the Crusade; and now God was restoring to him, as if by miracle, the duchy which he had relinquished for the love of Heaven. But Henry was not to be balked in his purpose by any such scruples. The crowd which had gathered to witness the altercation clearly favored “the present heir who was claiming his right”; and with such encouragement, Henry drew his sword and exclaimed that he would never permit a “foreigner,” through “frivolous delays,” to anticipate him in grasping the sceptre of his father. Then friends and prudent counsellors intervened to allay the dissensions, and, without any serious rupture, the supporters of the duke gave way, and the castle and the royal hoard were handed over to Henry.[2] In that moment Robert Curthose lost a kingdom. The rapidity with which events now moved forward, and the intelligence and sureness of judgment which were introduced into the direction of affairs, are highly indicative of the character and determination of the man who had grasped the helm. “On Thursday he [William Rufus] was slain, and on the morning after buried; and after he was buried, those of the council who were nigh at hand chose his brother Henry for king; and he straightways gave the bishopric of Winchester to William Giffard, and then went to London; and on the Sunday after, before the altar at Westminster, promised to God and all the people to put down all the injustices that were in his brother’s time; and to maintain the best laws that stood in any king’s day before him. And then, after that, the bishop of London, Maurice, hallowed him king; and all in this land submitted to him and swore oaths and became his men.”[3] “And that nothing might be wanting to the aggregate of happiness, Ranulf, the dregs of iniquity, was cast into the gloom of a prison, and speedy messengers were despatched to recall Anselm.”[4] The news of the king’s death had, it may be supposed, taken Henry entirely unawares. Yet within less than four days he had surmounted all the difficulties connected with the seizure of the kingdom and had sketched out the programme of a reign. To Robert’s claim of primogeniture he had opposed the fact that he alone had been born within the realm of England and the son of a king and queen.[5] The very real argument that Robert was still far away, and that his return could not be awaited without grave peril to the nation, was also doubtless used with telling effect.[6] The appointment of William Giffard to the vacant see of Winchester, the recall of Anselm, and the imprisonment of the infamous Ranulf Flambard, the chief oppressor of the late reign, were all measures calculated to announce in unmistakable terms to church and clergy that the evils from which they had suffered under William Rufus were at an end.[7] And the issue of the famous Charter of Liberties, in direct connection with the coronation, was a proclamation to the nation that better days were at hand.[8] Its publication in the counties must in some cases have brought almost the first news of the tyrant’s death and of the inauguration of the new reign. But not content with these measures, Henry took another step well calculated to strengthen his hold upon the affections of his English subjects. Giving up ‘meretricious pleasures,’ he married Matilda, “daughter of Malcolm, king of Scotland, and of the good queen Margaret, King Edward’s kinswoman, of the true royal line of England.”[9] The marriage was solemnized on Martinmas (11 November). At Christmas, Henry gained the tacit recognition of his royal title among the crowned heads of Europe. With King Philip’s full permission, Louis, the king designate of France, paid him a state visit with a distinguished suite, and was received with fitting honors at Westminster.[10] But this was not only an indication that Henry had been received into the society of kings, it was an earnest of the cordial relations which were to prevail between the French and English courts until the critical years of the new reign had passed. The triumph of Henry’s clear-cut, far-seeing policy could hardly have been more complete. There were rocks ahead, but at least he had made the vessel seaworthy, and with firm and careful steering he might hope to avoid all perils. Henry I had good reason for acting with precipitate haste in making sure his hold upon the English crown, for the rumor ran that his elder brother was returning from Italy, and was already close at hand. The king had well grounded fears that unless he made his position absolutely secure the English barons might repent of their decision and withdraw their allegiance.[11] Robert Curthose was probably already on his way home from southern Italy when William Rufus came to his tragic end in the New Forest. Late in August, or early in September,[12] he arrived in Normandy with his newly won bride, the beautiful Sibyl of Conversano, and was joyfully welcomed by his subjects.[13] Without encountering any opposition, he entered into full possession of his duchy,[14] “except the castles which were occupied by King Henry’s men, against which he had many onsets and contests.”[15] There were many reasons for the cordial welcome which Normandy extended her duke upon his return from the Crusade. The old evils and abuses of his earlier reign had doubtless largely been forgotten, while the rule of William Rufus, who had “trampled Normandy under his feet”[16] by reason of his warlike undertakings and the extreme rigor of his justice,[17] had prepared men’s minds for a milder régime. Robert’s long labors in the Holy War had brought him much prestige and made him a European figure. The charms of his fair Italian bride[18] struck the imagination of the people. Moreover, the death of the late king had been followed by a fresh outburst of private war in Normandy;[19] and the return of the legitimate duke, ‘as if by miracle,’ offered at least a hope of the restoration of peace and order. But most important of all, the critical state of English affairs left Henry I no time or resources to turn his attention to the Continent; and, except in so far as his garrisons might still hold out at Domfront and in the Cotentin, he was powerless to prevent the restoration. If Robert’s absence during the critical days of early August had been fatal to his cause in England, the unexpected death of the late king had nevertheless been his rare good fortune, so far as the recovery of Normandy was concerned. Men saw in it the hand of God exercised on behalf of the crusader.[20] Probably William Rufus had never intended to restore the Norman duchy upon Robert’s return from the Crusade.[21] In any case, Robert could not have hoped to recover it except by repayment of the loan for which it had been pledged. Indeed, we know that while in Italy, by means of his wife’s dowry and through the gifts of friends, he had taken pains to provide himself with funds for the redemption of the duchy.[22] But the tragedy in the New Forest had obviated this unpleasant necessity. Joyfully welcomed home, the weary crusader entered into possession of his dominions without the repayment of a single penny. Robert’s first acts upon his return to Normandy are eminently characteristic, and they contrast strangely with the unparallelled energy and decision with which Henry was pressing forward to his goal in England. Far from giving his undivided attention to the grave problems of his distracted state, he went with his wife on pilgrimage to Mont-Saint-Michel to render thanks to God and the archangel for his safe return from the Crusade.[23] Then, if Wace may be trusted, he went to Caen to visit his sister, Abbess Cecilia of La Trinité, and presented her church with a splendid Saracen banner which he had captured in the Holy War.[24] While Robert was indulging in devotions and ceremonial and Henry was absorbed in the affairs of his kingdom, events in Maine were rapidly approaching a crisis which was to prove fatal to Norman dominion in the county. During Robert’s absence on the Crusade, William Rufus had reasserted with the utmost vigor, but with questionable success, the Norman claim to rule in Maine. Against him Helias of La Flèche had maintained a stubborn resistance. And although towards the end of the Red King’s reign he had been forced to retire beyond the frontier into his own strongholds farther south, no sooner did he receive word of the king’s death than he pushed forward again and recovered Le Mans. But the citadel with its Norman garrison still held out against him, and, obtaining reënforcements from Fulk le Réchin, his Angevin overlord, Helias began to besiege it. The events which followed are a perfect illustration of the prevailing ideas of the feudal age. The commanders of the Norman garrison had been set to guard the castle of Le Mans by their lord, William Rufus, who was now dead. And there was a question as to who was his legitimate successor, and, therefore, as to whom they now owed allegiance. Obtaining a truce from Helias, they sent to both Robert and Henry to seek aid or instructions. Going first to Robert, their messenger found him “broken by the hardships of his long pilgrimage, and preferring the quiet of the couch to warlike exertions.” The plight of the Norman garrison at Le Mans and the prospective loss of a county moved him little. “I am wearied with long labor,” he is reported to have said, “and my duchy of Normandy is enough for me. Moreover, the barons of England are inviting me to cross the sea and are prepared to receive me as their king.” Robert, therefore, advised the commanders of the garrison to make an honorable peace. Getting no satisfaction from the duke, the envoy hastened to England to ask aid of the king. But Henry was engrossed in the affairs of his realm—which Robert’s return had rendered critical—and he prudently decided not to embark upon a hazardous foreign enterprise at that time. He thanked the Norman commanders at Le Mans for their loyalty and consideration, but sent their messenger away empty. And when they had thus “laudably proved their fidelity,” they surrendered the citadel to Helias of La Flèche, late in October, and marched out with the honors of war.[25] So ended the Norman domination in Maine. Helias of La Flèche was now completely master of the county; and the betrothal of Eremburg, his only daughter, to the oldest son of Fulk le Réchin paved the way for its later union with Anjou. Not until an Angevin count should succeed to the Norman duchy were the two territories again to be brought under a single ruler. It has been suggested that Henry I, while declining to aid the Norman garrison at Le Mans, was already secretly negotiating with Helias of La Flèche with a view to obtaining his aid against Robert Curthose.[26] But there is no evidence of any such negotiations; and since it is not until several years later that Maine and Anjou appear as active supporters of the king against the duke, this hypothesis seems unwarrantable. In the autumn of 1100, Henry was in no position to interfere in continental affairs. He showed his wisdom and his sense of proportion in allowing Maine to go its way, while he dealt with the more pressing problem of the investiture controversy with Anselm and the papacy and prepared to frustrate the projects of disaffected subjects who were already plotting his overthrow. The interests of Robert Curthose in Maine, on the other hand, were more immediate, and Ordericus Vitalis charges his inaction to his habitual indolence. But the real cause of his indifference, it seems, was the fact that visions of a second Norman conquest of England were already floating before his unstable mind. Within a few months he was fairly launched in preparations for an invasion of the island kingdom and an attempt to gain the English crown. As soon as Robert’s return from the Crusade became known in England, “almost all the magnates of the land violated the fealty which they had sworn”[27] and entered into secret negotiations for his elevation to the English throne.[28] Robert of Bellême and his two brothers Roger and Arnulf, William of Warenne, Walter Giffard, Ivo of Grandmesnil, and Robert, son of Ilbert de Lacy, were the chief conspirators.[29] Accepting their proposals with alacrity, Robert Curthose promptly relapsed into all the old extravagant practices which had impoverished him and stripped him of his inherited dominions during his earlier reign. To Robert of Bellême he granted the castle of Argentan, the forest of Gouffern, and lucrative rights attaching to the bishopric of Séez.[30] Upon others he squandered the treasure which he had brought back with him from Italy, while to others still he made extravagant promises to be fulfilled out of the spoils of England.[31] Yet it is doubtless an exaggeration which pictures the king as deserted by ‘almost all the magnates of the land.’ Some of the ablest and most powerful of the barons remained loyal, among them Count Robert of Meulan and his brother Henry of Beaumont, earl of Warwick, Robert Fitz Hamon, Richard de Redvers, Roger Bigot,[32] and probably many others of less note. During the autumn and winter the conspiracy smouldered, causing the king no small concern. In his letter to Anselm immediately after his coronation, Henry directed him in returning to England to avoid Normandy and travel by way of Wissant and Dover.[33] And in his negotiations with Anselm after his arrival in England (23 September 1100), he showed great anxiety lest the archbishop should go over to the support of Robert, from whom at that time it would have been easy to get full assurances on the question of investitures.[34] Clearly the king regarded the situation as critical; yet an invasion was hardly to be feared before the following spring or summer. It was in the spring that an untoward incident occurred, which contributed not a little to bring the conspiracy to a head and to precipitate the invasion. On 2 February 1101, Ranulf Flambard, ‘the dregs of iniquity,’ escaped from the Tower of London and fled to Normandy.[35] Going straight to the duke, he was received with favor, and, if we may rely upon Ordericus Vitalis, he was charged with the administration of the duchy.[36] Henceforth, the sources picture him as the chief instigator of the attack upon England. Doubtless his well known talents were turned to good account in the equipment of a fleet and in the assembling of the “no small multitude of knights, archers, and foot soldiers” which was gathered at Tréport ready for the crossing.[37] Meanwhile, in England, the Pentecostal court (9 June) was thrown into consternation by the news of an imminent invasion.[38] The _curia_ was honeycombed with treason, and king and magnates regarded one another with mutual suspicion. Not knowing how far the conspiracy had spread, Henry was in terror of a general desertion by the barons. They, on the other hand, feared an increase of royal power and the summary vengeance that would fall upon them as traitors after the restoration of peace. At this juncture, all discussion of the investiture controversy was set aside, and king and barons alike turned to Archbishop Anselm as the one man whose character commanded universal confidence and who, by his position as primate of England, was constitutionally qualified to act as mediator in such a crisis. Apparently the nobles and people renewed their allegiance by a general oath; and the king, on his part, extending his hand to the archbishop as the representative of his subjects, “promised that so long as he lived he would govern the realm with just and holy laws.”[39] When this mutual exchange of assurances had somewhat cleared the air, already thick with treason, the king proceeded with his accustomed vigor to take measures to thwart the impending attack. He sent ships to sea to head off the hostile fleet. He gathered an army from all parts of the realm, and, marching to Pevensey “at midsummer,” he pitched a permanent camp there and awaited the invasion.[40] Anselm joined the levy with the knights due from his fief;[41] but the archbishop’s services were mainly moral rather than military. As the duke’s forces for the invasion were being assembled at Tréport, not far from Saint-Valery—the port from which the Conqueror’s fleet had sailed in 1066—it was but natural to expect that a landing would again be attempted at Pevensey. A different plan, however, was adopted. Buscarls whom Henry had sent to sea to head off the invasion were corrupted—through the contrivance of Ranulf Flambard, it is said[42]—and, deserting the royal cause, accepted service with the duke as pilots of his fleet.[43] With such guides the invaders easily avoided the ships which the king had sent out against them, and sailing past Pevensey, where the royal forces were awaiting them, they landed safely at Portsmouth (21 July),[44] and were welcomed by their confederates within the kingdom.[45] Sending a defiance to the king,[46] Robert advanced upon Winchester, the seat of the royal treasury and the chief administrative centre of the realm, and pitched his camp in a strong position. Apparently he meant to attack the city;[47] but such a plan, if entertained, was quickly abandoned, and Robert turned towards London and advanced as far as the forest of Alton.[48] It was a trying moment for the king, and the chroniclers describe in moving terms the terrors which he suffered.[49] Almost despairing of his kingdom, they declare, he feared even for his life.[50] The successful landing of the invaders had given the signal for further desertions among the disaffected barons.[51] Many who until this moment had maintained the appearance of loyalty now openly aligned themselves with the duke, seeking to cloak their infamous conduct by demanding unjust and impossible concessions from the king. To this number belong Robert of Bellême and William of Warenne,[52] who clearly had been among the chief conspirators from the beginning, and probably also William of Mortain, earl of Cornwall.[53] Robert of Meulan, who on every occasion remained faithful to the king, was for paying these base traitors in their own coin. He urged the king to conciliate them, “to indulge them as a father indulges his children,” to grant all their requests, even though they demanded London and York. When the storm had been weathered, he insinuated, the king might visit condign punishment upon them and reclaim the domains which they had wrung from him in his hour of need.[54] But in this dire hour Henry found a more powerful supporter in Anselm. As treason thickened around the king, he placed his trust in almost no one except the archbishop.[55] Their quarrel over investitures was no longer allowed to stand between them. Eadmer affirms that Henry gave up his whole contention in that matter, and promised henceforth to obey the decrees and commands of the apostolic see.[56] And with such assurances Anselm threw himself heart and soul into the royal cause. Privately he undertook to inspire the disloyal barons whom the king brought before him with a holy fear of violating their plighted faith.[57] But he went further. Mounting a pulpit in the midst of the host, he harangued the forces upon their obligation to abide by their sworn allegiance. His voice was like the blast of a trumpet calling the multitude to arms. Raising their voices, they pledged their goods and their loyalty to the king, upon condition that he put away the evil customs which had come in with William Rufus and that he keep good laws.[58] Thus the church and the English people stood firmly behind the king,[59] and many of the barons who at first had contemplated desertion seem to have been held back by the strong personal influence of the archbishop. And, with such support, Henry moved forward to intercept the invaders,[60] and came face to face with them at Alton.[61] Yet no battle ensued: Dote li reis, dote li dus, Mais io ne sai qui dota plus.[62] In this happy couplet Wace has described the situation exactly. In spite of a very fortunate beginning, resolution failed the duke and his supporters when it came to pressing their advantage home.[63] The king, too, notwithstanding the disaffection among his barons, had been able to muster a formidable army. Probably the desertions from the royal cause had been less numerous than Robert and his supporters had anticipated.[64] The battle, if joined, would certainly be a bloody one. And, on his side, the king was in no position to force the issue: the loyalty of a considerable portion of his army was too doubtful. Moreover, it was no part of Henry’s character to seek by arms what he could achieve by diplomacy, a sphere in which he enjoyed a far greater superiority. The chief supporters of both sides also hesitated. A fratricidal war was as little attractive to the barons, whose families were divided between the two opposing forces, as it was to the two brothers who were the principals in the contest.[65] And so saner counsels prevailed, and leading barons from each side opened negotiations for peace.[66] The text of the treaty which resulted has not come down to us in documentary form, but it is possible to reconstruct its terms with some fulness from the narrative sources. Robert gave up all claim to the English crown, released Henry from the homage which he had done him on an earlier occasion—probably upon the receipt of the Cotentin in 1088—and recognized his royal title and dignity.[67] It was not considered fitting that an English king should remain the vassal of a Norman duke. On his side, the king undertook to pay Robert an annual subsidy of 3000 marks of silver[68] and to surrender all his holdings in Normandy except the great stronghold of Domfront.[69] Long years before, when Henry had been a wandering exile, his fortunes at their lowest, the men of Domfront had voluntarily called him in and made him their lord; and on taking possession of their town and castle he had solemnly sworn never to abandon them. The binding force of this oath was now invoked as a pretext for the king’s retention of a solitary outpost in Robert’s dominions. An amnesty provision was added for the benefit of the barons with holdings on both sides of the Channel who by supporting one of the brothers had jeopardized their interests with the other. Robert undertook to restore all Norman honors which he had taken from the king’s supporters;[70] and Henry promised the restoration of all English lands which he had seized from partisans of the duke.[71] A special clause, of which we would gladly know the full significance, provided that Count Eustace of Boulogne should have “his paternal lands in England.”[72] Further, it was agreed that, if either of the brothers should die before the other and leave no lawful heir, the survivor should succeed to his dominions whether in England or in Normandy.[73] So far the provisions of the treaty seem reasonably certain. The remainder are more doubtful. Ordericus Vitalis asserts—and his whole defence of Henry’s dealings with Robert down to the latter’s overthrow at Tinchebray, and after, is founded upon the assertion—that Robert and Henry entered into a sworn agreement to recover all of the Conqueror’s domains which had been lost since his death and to visit condign punishment upon the wicked men who had fomented discord between them.[74] Wace adds that each undertook, in case the other should be at war, to furnish him with one hundred knights so long as the war lasted.[75] According to the Annals of Winchester, Ranulf Flambard gave up his bishopric of Durham.[76] The treaty, as finally agreed upon, was duly confirmed in accordance with a custom of the period by the oaths of twelve great barons on each side.[77] Thus ended Robert’s last and greatest effort to gain the English throne. The royal army was disbanded and sent home. A part of the ducal forces were sent back to Normandy.[78] But with the rest, Robert remained in England for several months upon terms of peace and friendship with his brother.[79] May he possibly have been awaiting the first instalment of the English subsidy? The Chronicler does not fail to raise a characteristic lament, though he makes no reference to oppressive gelds: “and his men incessantly did much harm as they went, the while that the count continued here in the country.” About Michaelmas Duke Robert returned to Normandy.[80] The treaty of Alton has been described as “the most ill considered step in the whole of Robert’s long career of folly.”[81] It can hardly prove a surprise, however, to one who has followed Robert’s course through that long career. The real folly lay not so much in the making of the treaty as in the whole project of overthrowing Henry I., once he had got fairly seated on the English throne. It is hard to believe that the crown was within the duke’s grasp as the two armies stood facing each other at Alton. Henry had the support of the church and of the mass of his English subjects. Only a faction of the nobles was against him. And a single victory gained by the ducal forces would, it seems, hardly have resulted in disaster for the royal cause. Robert had undertaken a task which was beyond his power and his resources, a fact which the king’s momentary weakness cannot disguise. FOOTNOTES [1] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 44; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 378; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 232; Ordericus, iv, pp. 86-87. [2] Ordericus, iv, pp. 87-88; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 470; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 279. [3] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100, Thorpe’s translation. [4] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 470. [5] Ordericus, iv, p. 88; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 279. [6] Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, ed. Auguste Molinier (Paris, 1887), p. 8; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 432: E al realme rei estoet, Kar sainz rei pas estre ne poet. But Wace becomes quite incredible when he asserts that the bishops and barons forced the crown upon Henry, who desired to await Robert’s return. [7] Cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 46-47; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 470; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 232-233. [8] See the text in Stubbs, _Select Charters_, 9th ed. (Oxford, 1913), pp. 117-119. [9] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 47; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 470; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233. [10] Simeon, _H. R._, p. 232; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 41; Ordericus, iv, pp. 195, 196. [11] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 470. [12] September, according to Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 98). Henry of Huntingdon (p. 233) gives August, which is his usual rendering of the ‘in autumn’ of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (cf. _a._ 1100). The sources agree that Robert returned soon after Henry’s accession. Cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 282. [13] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 438-439; cf. Ordericus, v. p. 2. [14] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 471; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283; Ordericus, iv, pp. 98-99; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 439. [15] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1100. Henry had held Domfront since 1092; the Cotentin had been granted him by William Rufus in 1096. [16] Ordericus, iv, p. 16. [17] _Ibid._, p. 98; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 416. [18] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285; Ordericus, iv, p. 78; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 438. [19] Ordericus, iv, p. 98. [20] Cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 88. [21] This is the view of Freeman. _William Rufus_, i, p. 556. [22] Ordericus, iv, pp. 78-79; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 282. [23] Ordericus, iv, p. 98. [24] _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 415. Wace is the only authority to mention this incident. The trophy in question cannot be the one already mentioned (_supra_, p. 116), which was taken in the battle of Ascalon and presented by Robert to the church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. But Robert may very well have captured more than one such trophy, and Wace’s personal connection with Caen adds more than the usual weight to his authority on a point of this kind. There is in the _Miracula_ of St. Thomas Becket a record of a topaz which was reputed to have been brought back from Jerusalem by Robert, and which was later presented to the shrine of the martyr at Canterbury by Ralph Fitz Bernard in gratitude for his healing. _Materials for the History of Thomas Becket_, ed. J. C. Robertson (London, 1875-85), i, pp. 482-483. [25] The whole episode is related with much detail by Ordericus Vitalis in one of his most pleasing chapters. Ordericus, iv, pp. 99-102. His whole account is in general confirmed by the _Actus Pontificum_ (p. 404), which, however, make no mention of the envoy sent to Robert, and merely record that the besieged garrison waited in vain for aid from the king. The date of the surrender of the garrison can be placed definitely before 1 November 1100 on the evidence of a donation in favor of Saint-Aubin of Angers. Archives départementales de la Sarthe, H 290 (_Inventaire sommaire_, iii, p. 127). The document is dated in the year of King William’s death “et recuperationis Helie comitis Cenomanorum,” 1100, indiction viii, kalends of November. According to the _Actus Pontificum_, the garrison held out for more than three months, but this is evidently an exaggeration, as it would carry us beyond November. The surrender must, it seems safe to conclude, have taken place on or very shortly before that date. [26] Latouche, _Maine_, pp. 51-52. [27] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 471. [28] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48; cf. _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 40. [29] Ordericus, iv, pp. 103-104. [30] “Tunc Rodberto de Belismo Sagiensem episcopatum et Argentomum castrum silvamque Golferni donavit.” _Ibid._, p. 104. The meaning of “Sagiensem episcopatum” is not clear. Le Prévost says: “Nous pensons que par _episcopatus Sagiensis_ il faut entendre, non pas les revenus ecclésiastiques de l’évêché de Séez, mais la possession et les revenus féodaux du pays qui en dépendait et qui est plus connu sous le nom d’Hiémois.” _Ibid._, p. 104, n. 2. Freeman understands the phrase to mean the “ducal right of advowson over the bishopric of Séez”—“a claim very dear to the house of Belesme.” _William Rufus_, ii, p. 396. Ordericus Vitalis (iv, pp. 104, 162-163, 192) mentions this grant in practically identical language on three separate occasions. [31] Ordericus, iv, pp. 104-105. [32] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 471. [33] “Laudo ergo et mando ne per Northmanniam venias, sed per Guitsand, et ego Doveram obviam habebo tibi barones meos.” _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iii, no. 41, in Migne, clix, col. 76. [34] Eadmer, p. 120. [35] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 471; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234; Ordericus, iv, p. 109. [36] Ordericus, iv, p. 110. [37] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48. [38] Eadmer, p. 126; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233. [39] Eadmer, p. 126: “ … actum ex consulto est, ut certitudo talis hinc inde fieret, quae utrinque quod verebatur excluderet. Sed ubi ad sponsionem fidei regis ventum est, tota regni nobilitas cum populi numerositate Anselmum inter se et regem medium facerunt, quatinus ei vice sui, manu in manum porrecta, promitteret iustis et sanctis legibus se totum regnum quoad viveret in cunctis administraturum”; William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, pp. 105-106. It is probable that the king’s promise to abide by his coronation charter and the exaction of an oath of obedience from his subjects were extended to the whole realm by means of writs addressed to the counties. One of these writs, that addressed to the shire-moot of Lincolnshire, has been preserved. It reads in part as follows: “Sciatis quod ego vobis concedo tales lagas et rectitudines et consuetudines, quales ego vobis dedi et concessi, quando imprimis coronam recepi. Quare volo ut assecuretis michi sacramento terram meam Anglie, ad tenendum et ad defendendum contra omnes homines et nominatim contra Rotbertum comitem Normannie fratrem meum usque ad natale domini; et vobis predictis precipio ut hanc securitatem recipiatis de meis dominicis hominibus francigenis et anglis, et barones mei faciant vobis habere hanc eandem securitatem de omnibus suis hominibus sicut michi concesserunt.” _E. H. R._, xxi, p. 506; facsimile, _ibid._, xxvi, p. 488. [40] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 282; Eadmer, pp. 126-127. [41] _Ibid._, p. 127. [42] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48. [43] _A-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 48; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 110. [44] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101: “twelve nights before Lammas”; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233: “ante kalendas Augusti”; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 48-49: “circa ad Vincula S. Petri”; Ordericus, iv, p. 110: “in autumno.” The sources agree that the expedition landed at Portsmouth, though Wace gives the landing place as Porchester. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 439. Freeman explains that Portsmouth is a “vaguer name” referring to the “whole haven,” and that Wace, wishing to be more specific, names Porchester as the exact point within the harbor where the landing took place. _William Rufus_, ii, p. 406, n. 1. But it seems more likely that Wace’s choice of the word was due to the exigencies of his verse: Passa mer e vint a Porcestre, D’iloc ala prendre Wincestre. The _Annales de Wintonia_ places the number of ships in the invading fleet at two hundred, and record the presence of Ranulf Flambard: “Dux Robertus venit in Angliam cum cc. navibus, et cum eo Radulfus Passeflambere.” _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 41. [45] Ordericus, iv, p. 110. [46] _Ibid._ [47] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 440. [48] _Ibid._, ii, pp. 440-441. For the identification of Alton, see Freeman, _William Rufus_, ii, p. 408, n. 2. According to Ordericus (iv, p. 113) the armies met “in quadam planicie.” Wace, with his fondness for chivalrous detail, relates that Robert abandoned his proposed attack upon Winchester because he learned that the queen was then lying there in childbed. Only a villain, he declared, would attack a woman in such plight: Mais l’on li dist que la reigne, Sa serorge, esteit en gesine, Et il dist que vilains sereit, Qui dame en gesine assaldreit. _Roman de Rou_, ii. p. 440. J. H. Ramsay remarks, “but Matilda did not give birth to her child till January or February following.” _The Foundations of England_ (London, 1898), ii, p. 238, n. 9. He gives no reference. Henry and Matilda were married 11 November 1100. [49] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 311-312 (_Epistola de Contemptu Mundi_). [50] Eadmer, p. 127; William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, p. 105. [51] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49; Eadmer, p. 127; William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, p. 106. [52] Ordericus, iv, p. 110. [53] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 473. [54] Ordericus, iv, pp. 112-113. [55] Eadmer, p. 127. [56] “Ipse igitur Anselmo iura totius Christianitatis in Anglia exercendae se relicturum, atque decretis et iussionibus apostolicae sedis se perpetuo oboediturum, summo opere promittebat.” _Ibid._ [57] William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, pp. 105-106. [58] Eadmer, p. 127; William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, p. 106; cf. _G. R._, ii, pp. 471-472. [59] “Omnes quoque Angli, alterius principis iura nescientes, in sui regis fidelitate perstiterunt, pro qua certamen inire satis optaverunt.” Ordericus, iv, pp. 110-111; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49. [60] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 305; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 282. [61] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 440; cf. _supra_, n. 48. [62] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 441. [63] “Rotbertus qui magis aliorum perfidia quam sua fidens industria venerat, destitit praelio, descivit a negotio.” William of Malmesbury, _G. P._, p. 106. [64] Eadmer, pp. 127-128. Eadmer adds that Robert was also deterred by a threat of excommunication which Anselm held over him: “non levem deputans excommunicationem Anselmi, quam sibi ut invasori nisi coepto desisteret invehi certo sciebat, paci adquievit.” [65] _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 306; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 441-442. [66] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 472; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 306. The account of the peace negotiations given by Ordericus (iv, pp. 113-114) differs fundamentally from that of the English sources. According to him, it was Henry and Robert personally, rather than their supporters, who came together and made peace: “remotis omnibus arbitris, soli fratres scita sua sanxerunt.” The noble envoys through whom they at first attempted to exchange messages turned out to be base traitors, who desired war rather than peace, and who acted for their own private advantage rather than for the public good. This led Henry to seek a personal interview with Robert. Meeting in a great circle, around which “terribilis decor Normannorum et Anglorum in armis effulsit,” their hearts were filled with “the sweetness of fraternal love,” and, talking together for a little while, they made peace and exchanged “sweet kisses.” Freeman has attempted, without success as it seems to me, to reconcile this account with that of the English writers. _William Rufus_, ii, appendix xx: pp. 688-691. I have rejected it as being essentially untrustworthy for the following reasons: (1) It is in fundamental disagreement with the English sources, which appear to be better informed. (2) It has all the appearance of being a fancy picture, drawn from the author’s notion of what ought to have happened under the circumstances. (3) It tends greatly to eulogize the king. This last consideration suggests the need of caution in dealing with Ordericus’s statement of the terms of the treaty. Wace says that the mediators between the king and the duke were Robert of Bellême, William of Mortain, Robert Fitz Hamon, and others whose names he has not learned. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 442. [67] Ordericus, iv, p. 114. [68] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 472; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 444; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 41. Robert of Torigny places the amount of the subsidy at 4000 marks (_Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 282); so also does the _Liber Memorandorum Ecclesie de Barnewelle_ (p. 55); Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 114) gives it as 3000 pounds. [69] Ordericus, iv, p. 114. The _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1101) says that the king agreed to relinquish “all that he held by force in Normandy against the count.” It is possible that the duke had tacitly, if not actually, recognized Henry’s claim to Domfront as legitimate—he had held it since 1092—and, therefore, that the statement quoted refers only to Henry’s possessions in the Cotentin. In that case there would be no disagreement between Ordericus and the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_. Wace must surely be mistaken in his statement that Henry retained the Cotentin as well as Domfront. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 444. [70] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49. [71] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49. [72] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101. This is the only mention of Eustace of Boulogne in connection with these events, and it is not clear what part he had played in them. [73] _Ibid._; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233. [74] Ordericus, iv, p. 115. The phrase “omnia patris sui dominia” might refer, as in the treaty of 1091, to the recovery of Maine; or it might refer more locally to parts of the ducal demesne in Normandy which Robert had squandered upon favorites. If it refers to Maine, it must have been a purely formal provision—perhaps proposed by Henry for the diplomatic needs of the moment—for there is no evidence that an attack upon Maine was contemplated. Ordericus (iv, pp. 162-163, 192) in recounting a later stage of the quarrel between Henry and Robert, applies it to recent grants which the duke had made to Robert of Bellême in Normandy. The provision for coöperation in the punishment of traitors, if not actually inconsistent with the amnesty clause, is, at any rate, of a piece with Ordericus’s conception of the treaty as made by the brothers in spite of their followers. It ought, therefore, to be accepted with caution. Ordericus makes frequent use of it on later occasions to justify Henry’s course of action toward Robert. [75] _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 444. [76] _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 41. [77] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 233. [78] Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 49. [79] We have some definite evidence concerning Robert’s coöperation with King Henry during his sojourn in England. Soon after the treaty of Alton had been concluded Anselm was summoned to appear before the _curia regis_, and we are told that it was by the advice of Duke Robert and his friends, who hated the archbishop because he had frustrated their plans, that Henry demanded of Anselm that he become his man and consecrate bishops and abbots whom the king had invested, or else quit the realm. Eadmer, pp. 128, 131. On 3 September at Windsor Robert confirmed two charters of donation by King Henry, the one in favor of Herbert, bishop of Norwich, and the other in favor of John, bishop of Bath. W. Farrer, “An Outline Itinerary of King Henry the First,” in _E. H. R._, xxxiv, pp. 312, 313. At some time before the battle of Tinchebray (29 September 1106) Bishop John of Bath obtained a separate charter from Robert confirming donations of William Rufus and Henry I. _Two Chartularies of the Priory of St. Peter at Bath_, ed. William Hunt (London, 1893), i, p. 47, no. 44. The document is undated. It may have been issued during Robert’s sojourn in England in 1101 or during one of his two later visits, late in 1103 (cf. _infra_, pp. 148-149), or early in 1106 (cf. _infra_, p. 169); or, indeed, it may have been issued at some other time in Normandy. [80] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1101: “after St. Michael’s mass”; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234: “Usque ad festum Sancti Michaelis.” Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 116) is more indefinite: “appropinquante hieme, in Neustriam rediit.” [81] Davis, _Normans and Angevins_, p. 124. CHAPTER VI THE LOSS OF NORMANDY Duke Robert’s ambitious attempt to drive Henry I from the throne had ended in a signal failure. To be sure, he had gained the promise of an annual subsidy of 3000 marks of silver, and this must have seemed to him an important consideration. But he had also revealed his weakness and indecision; and Henry can hardly have looked upon the payment of the subsidy as more than a temporary measure which would serve his purpose until he was in a position to adopt a more aggressive course towards the duke. By accepting a money payment in lieu of his claim upon the English crown, Robert had inevitably been reduced from the offensive to the defensive; and his continued failure to give strong and effective government to Normandy was a standing invitation to Henry to attack him. The treaty of Alton marked the beginning of a path of disaster which was to lead the duke to the field of Tinchebray and the prison walls of Cardiff. From a military standpoint there had been little of the heroic about Henry’s course in meeting the invasion. But he had won a diplomatic victory of the first importance, and he was not slow to take full advantage of his success. Regardless of the amnesty which had been provided by the recent treaty, he proceeded at once to take summary vengeance upon his enemies. Robert had not yet left the realm when the first blow fell upon William of Warenne and several others who were sent out of the kingdom with him, “disinherited for his sake.”[1] It soon appeared that a like fate was in store for others of the duke’s late supporters. King Henry did not proceed against them directly for calling in the invader—that presumably would have been a needless violation of the treaty—nor did he court disaster by attacking them all at once. But one by one, and upon various charges, he had them haled before his _curia_ and condemned.[2] Ivo of Grandmesnil, the crusader, attempted to engage in private war, a thing before almost unknown in England, and was made to pay for his presumption with a heavy fine. Covered with shame as he was, as a result of his cowardice at Antioch, and convinced that he would never be able to regain the king’s friendship, he found it advisable to extricate himself from his difficulties by departing a second time on crusade.[3] Robert Malet and Robert of Pontefract, son of Ilbert de Lacy, were also disinherited and made to quit the realm.[4] Before proceeding against his more powerful enemies of the great house of Talvas, or Bellême, Henry made more careful preparations. For the best part of a year he set his secret agents to watch the terrible Robert, earl of Shrewsbury, and to gather information against him, which was all carefully reduced to writing.[5] Then suddenly, in 1102, the earl was summoned to appear before the _curia regis_,[6] accused upon forty-five separate counts of words spoken or acts committed against the king or his brother, the duke of Normandy. Tacitly admitting that his case was hopeless, the great earl fled to his strongholds without pleading, and was adjudged a public enemy.[7] War followed. One by one, the earl’s fortresses, Arundel, Tickhill, Bridgenorth, and Shrewsbury, were reduced; and before Michaelmas[8] Robert of Bellême was driven from England, an utterly defeated and disinherited outlaw. “Filled with grief and rage,” he went over sea and “spent his fury on the Normans.”[9] It was not the king’s way to do things by halves. As soon as he had finished with Robert, he took action against other members of the Bellême family. Accusations were brought against Arnulf and Roger, Robert’s brothers, and they were condemned to the loss of their estates and driven from the realm.[10] But even then the king’s anger was not appeased or his appetite for plunder sated; and he proceeded to confiscate the lands which the nuns of the Norman monastery of Almenèches had received in England through the generosity of Roger of Montgomery.[11] Their sole offence lay in the fact that they happened to be presided over by Abbess Emma, a sister of Robert of Bellême. While Henry was thus engaged in extirpating his enemies in England, Normandy under Duke Robert was increasingly a prey to confusion and anarchy. As we have noted, the death of William Rufus had been the signal for an outbreak of private war in the duchy. In the very week that the news of the king’s death was received, William of Évreux and Ralph of Conches made a hostile incursion into the territory of Beaumont and plundered the lands of Robert of Meulan. In a like spirit, others who had been held in check by the rigor of the Red King’s justice now took up arms and desolated the wretched country.[12] It is probable that the duke’s return from the Crusade and his attack upon England in some degree mitigated these conditions of disorder. The expedition against England could hardly have been fitted out and launched amid such anarchy as Ordericus describes. And as the turbulent barons prepared themselves for the foreign enterprise, their minds and hands must necessarily have been turned away from domestic feuds. But for the same reason the failure of the attack upon England reacted disastrously upon Normandy, and brought on disorders hitherto unheard of. As Henry I expelled the outlaws from England, they invariably sought a refuge in Normandy and attempted to recoup their damaged fortunes by indulging in the worst excesses.[13] For a time Robert Curthose showed some spirit in dealing with the freebooters, though, if one accept the account of Ordericus Vitalis even with considerable reservations, his efforts did him little credit. When Henry embarked upon his great struggle with the house of Bellême in 1102, he appealed to Robert under the terms of the treaty of Alton to join him in the enterprise. And the duke so far responded to his call as to assemble the forces of Normandy and lay siege to the castle of Vignats, a Bellême stronghold, which was held by Gerard de Saint-Hilaire. It is reported that the garrison were ready and even eager to surrender, had a vigorous assault been made to give them a fair excuse. But the duke had little control over his undisciplined host, and Robert de Montfort and other traitors in the ranks fired the encampment and threw the whole army into a panic. The ducal forces fled in wild confusion with none pursuing, and the astonished garrison of Vignats shouted after them in derision.[14] Realizing now that they had nothing to fear, they issued from their stronghold and carried a devastating war throughout the Hiémois, and, so far as is recorded, the duke made no effort to repress them. Nothing remained but for the local lords of the district to defend themselves. Robert of Grandmesnil and his two brothers-in-law, Hugh de Montpinçon and Robert de Courcy, assembled their vassals and did what they could to check the freebooters. But their efforts met with small success. Other Bellême garrisons from Château-Gontier, Fourches, and Argentan joined with the plunderers from Vignats, and their raids were carried far and wide. Only the strong could defend themselves, and the homes of the unarmed peasantry were pillaged and given over to the flames.[15] If we have here a true account, Robert Curthose had proved unequal to the task of putting down an insignificant body of Bellême’s retainers and of keeping peace in the restricted territory of the Hiémois. He was soon called upon to deal with the arch-enemy of peace and order in person. It must have been in the autumn of 1102 that Robert of Bellême, utterly discomfited and overwhelmed in England, crossed over to Normandy and began to vent his fury upon those of his countrymen who had dared to join the duke in attacking his garrisons.[16] The disorders of 1102 were but a prelude to those that followed in 1103. We have only a fragmentary account of the events, but the general impression of the picture is that of a war of unparalleled violence and cruelty. Villages were depopulated, and churches were burned down upon the men, women, and children who had taken refuge in them. “Almost all Normandy” arose as by common consent against the tyrant of Bellême. But the movement was rendered ineffective for want of a strong and persistent leader.[17] Robert of Bellême, on his side, possessed almost unlimited resources. He is said to have held thirty-four strong castles, all well stocked with provisions and ready for war. Disregarding the claims of his brothers Roger and Arnulf, who had suffered outlawry and exile on his account, he retained the whole family inheritance in his own hands. While this kept his resources intact, it cost him the support of his brothers. Roger retired from the conflict and spent the rest of his life upon his wife’s patrimony at Charroux. But Arnulf in high indignation deserted the family cause and threw in his lot with Robert Curthose, taking with him a considerable number of Bellême supporters. Having recently captured the castle of Almenèches, he turned it over to the duke, who assembled an army there and prepared to press his advantage.[18] With ‘almost all Normandy’ in arms against him, with one of his brothers in retirement, and the other actively supporting the duke, the cause of Robert of Bellême might well seem desperate. He even doubted the fidelity of his closest friends. Yet, undismayed, he rushed to Almenèches, and, without a moment’s hesitation, fired the nunnery and burned it to the ground.[19] Overwhelming the ducal forces, he captured Oliver de Fresnay and many others, and subjected not a few of them to horrible punishments. The duke, admitting his defeat, retired to Exmes.[20] The necessity of crushing Robert of Bellême now became more imperative than ever, and for a time there seemed some prospect of success. His violence and oppression had stirred up against him not only the Normans, but some of his powerful neighbors across the border. Rotrou of Mortagne joined forces with William of Évreux and the men of the Hiémois. Robert of Saint-Céneri and Hugh de Nonant also joined the movement with their retainers. But even this swarm of enemies was unable to inflict a crushing defeat upon the lord of Bellême. They could injure him in numerous small engagements, but to overcome him, or inflict any condign punishment upon him, was beyond their power.[21] Robert of Bellême’s future in Normandy was finally determined by a decisive battle with the duke, but the place and date of the engagement are not recorded. We are without information as to the duke’s movements after his retirement from Almenèches to Exmes, though it seems clear that he reassembled his troops and determined to renew the offensive against Robert of Bellême. But the lord of Bellême did not wait to be attacked. Drawing up his forces in battle order as the ducal army was approaching, he launched a furious onslaught which carried all before it. The duke was put to flight, and William of Conversano and many others of his supporters were captured. Then, laments the chronicler, “the proud Normans blushed for shame that they, who had been the conquerors of barbarous foreign nations, should now be vanquished and put to flight by one of their own sons in the very heart of their own country.” Robert of Bellême is said to have aspired to the conquest of the whole duchy. Many of the Normans who hitherto had resisted him now felt constrained to bow their necks beneath the yoke, and joined the tyrant for the sake of their own safety. Pressing his advantage home, he now gained possession of Exmes.[22] The discomfiture of the duke was complete, and he had no choice but to conclude a peace with his too powerful subject upon humiliating terms.[23] Bishop Serlo of Séez and Ralph, abbot of Saint-Martin of Séez, unable any longer to bear the oppression of the tyrant, withdrew from their posts and crossed over to England, where they were cordially welcomed by Henry I.[24] They were to be of no small service to the king in the shaping of his future policy. While the diocese of Séez was a prey to the indescribable confusion of the struggle with Robert of Bellême, the Évrecin was not spared the horrors of a private war. There the death of William of Breteuil[25] without legitimate issue,[26] and a consequent disputed succession, had reopened an ancient local feud.[27] While William was being buried at Lire, a natural son named Eustace seized his lands and occupied the strongholds.[28] But a nephew named Renaud, of the illustrious Burgundian house of Grancey, claimed the succession as legitimate heir. Many of the Normans preferred a fellow countryman, though a bastard, to a foreigner, and supported Eustace. But the ancient enemies of Breteuil rallied around the Burgundian. William of Évreux led the movement, and was promptly joined by Ralph of Conches, Amaury de Montfort, and Ascelin Goël.[29] But Eustace was supported by loyal and powerful vassals; and when he saw that he could not win single-handed, he appealed for aid to Henry I, who was quick to realize the advantages which the Breteuil succession controversy offered for the inauguration of a far-reaching policy of intervention in the internal affairs of Normandy. The king not only promised Eustace the desired assistance, but he gave him the hand of Juliana, one of his natural daughters, in marriage.[30] And further, he sent his able and trusted minister, Robert of Meulan—who as lord of Beaumont had special interests in the disturbed district—to Normandy to deal personally with the situation and to warn Robert Curthose and the Normans barons that unless they supported his son-in-law and drove out the foreign intruder, they would incur his royal displeasure. With such powerful backing, Eustace of Breteuil gradually got the better of his rival—who waged the war with such disgusting cruelty that he alienated many of his adherents—and finally made himself master of the whole of his father’s honor, and expelled the foreigner from the land.[31] It was one thing to expel the foreigner; it was quite another to overcome the local enemies of Breteuil who had rallied around the intruder for the sake of their own advantage. With these, Robert of Meulan undertook to deal, and he found them aggressive enemies, if more nearly bandits and robbers than warriors. Ascelin Goël, whose prison walls at Ivry had on a former occasion closed around William of Breteuil, ambushed and captured a certain John of Meulan, a rich burgess and usurer, when he was returning from a conference with his lord, the count of Beaumont. For four months the ‘avaricious usurer’ lay in Ascelin’s gaol. Doubtless the financial resources of the wealthy burgess were of no small concern to Robert of Meulan, and he made frantic efforts to procure his release. But try as he might, he could not extract him from the ‘wolf’s mouth.’ Finally he was obliged to conclude a peace with William of Évreux, betrothing his infant daughter Adelina to William’s nephew Amaury de Montfort. Ralph of Conches, Eustace of Breteuil, Ascelin Goël, and the other belligerent lords were included in the pacification, and John of Meulan, the usurer, was set at liberty.[32] It is not recorded that Robert Curthose interfered in any way in this private war, or made any effort to suppress it. Perhaps he was at the time wholly occupied by the struggle with Robert of Bellême, or perhaps he may already have been on his way to England on a mission of intercession for a friend. But before following him again across the Channel, we must take some account of his domestic affairs. The Norman heiress, Sibyl of Conversano, whom Robert brought back with him from Italy to be duchess of Normandy, has been universally praised for her surpassing beauty, refinement of manners, and excellent qualities.[33] Though she may have had a few private enemies, she enjoyed a great popularity; and Robert of Torigny affirms that at times during the duke’s absence she was entrusted with the administration of the duchy, and that in this capacity she was more successful than her husband.[34] But her beneficent career of usefulness was short indeed. Soon after the birth of her only child,[35] William the Clito, she died at Rouen,[36] and was buried, amid universal sorrow, in the cathedral church, Archbishop William Bonne-Ame performing the obsequies.[37] The cause of Sibyl’s death is shrouded in mystery. William of Malmesbury reports simply that she died shortly after the birth of her son, as the result of foolish advice given by the midwife.[38] But Ordericus Vitalis does not spare us a dark scandal. According to him Agnes de Ribemont, sister of the distinguished crusader, had recently been left a widow by the death of her husband Walter Giffard, and, becoming infatuated with Robert Curthose, had entangled him in the snares of illicit love. By undertaking to gain for him the aid of her powerful family connections against his numerous enemies, she obtained from him a promise that, upon the death of his wife, he would marry her and intrust her with the administration of the duchy. Soon after, the beautiful Sibyl took to her bed and died of poison.[39] It seems almost incredible that this tale should be anything but a malicious libel got up by some of the duke’s unscrupulous enemies. Duchess Sibyl was probably already dead before Agnes de Ribemont became a widow. But in the chaotic chronology of the early chapters of the eleventh book of Ordericus Vitalis, it is impossible to speak with any assurance, and a dark saying of Robert of Torigny may possibly lend some color to the scandalous tale.[40] It would seem that with domestic bereavement, and the distractions of rebellion and private war, Robert Curthose had enough to occupy him within the limits of his duchy. Yet it was apparently during this critical period that a foolish impulse of generosity towards a friend led him to embark upon an enterprise which resulted in further humiliation and disaster. William of Warenne, one of the barons who had been deprived of his possessions and honors in England after the failure of the invasion of 1101, came to the duke to complain that through loyalty to his cause he had lost the great earldom of Surrey with its annual revenue of 1000 pounds, and besought him to intercede with King Henry in order that he might regain the earldom and the royal favor. Apparently the duke had not yet realized the character of his unscrupulous brother, or the hostile plans which Henry was maturing against him, and he readily consented to William of Warenne’s request.[41] It must have been towards the end of the year 1103 that Duke Robert crossed the Channel with a small suite of knights and squires and landed at Southampton.[42] Henry I was quick to realize the advantages of the situation, and with perfect unscrupulousness he determined to use them to the utmost. Feigning great indignation that Robert had presumed to enter his dominions without permission and a safe-conduct, he sent his agents—Robert of Meulan seems to have been chiefly charged with the enterprise[43]—to intimate to him that he was in grave danger of capture and imprisonment. The duke was taken completely by surprise. He had no armed force at his back. He was, in fact, at the king’s mercy, although the externals of an honorable reception were accorded him, and he was conducted to the royal court, where negotiations were carried on in private. Henry charged him with a violation of the treaty of Alton in that, instead of punishing traitors with the rigor befitting a prince, he had made peace with Robert of Bellême and had confirmed him in the possession of certain of their father’s domains. The duke, appreciating his helplessness in the situation in which he found himself, humbly promised to make amends; but the king now informed him that he desired something more than this—indeed, that he would not permit him to quit the realm until he had surrendered his claim to the annual subsidy of 3000 marks which was due him under the terms of the treaty of Alton. In order that this crowning humiliation might be cloaked in a garb of decency, the duke was allowed to see the queen, his god-daughter, and to relinquish the subsidy as if at her request.[44] But this clever play upon his chivalrous nature could not conceal the character of the transaction. Robert in his ineffable simplicity had been treacherously taken and robbed. According to William of Malmesbury, the king had even gone the length of inducing him to come to England by a special invitation.[45] However this may be, and whatever the uncertainty about the details of this episode, the sources are agreed as to the character of the part which the king had played in it.[46] Wace avers that it was only then that Robert began to realize that his brother hated him.[47] William of Warenne was now restored to the royal favor, and recovered his earldom. And the duke, having given full satisfaction in all that was demanded of him, was allowed to return to Normandy, a greater object of contempt than ever among his subjects.[48] It can hardly be doubted that from this moment the king had formed a deliberate project of depriving him of his duchy and of reuniting Normandy to England. Step by step Robert was paving the way to his own destruction, while Henry with equal sureness was preparing himself for the final triumph. Whatever prestige the duke had brought back with him from the Crusade must long since have been dissipated. He had failed lamentably in his attempt to gain the English crown, he had failed to oust an ever encroaching enemy from the strongholds of his duchy, he had failed to subdue his most powerful and lawless subject, Robert of Bellême. He had placed no check upon the anarchy of private war, he had wasted his fortune upon base associates and barren enterprises, and he had alienated the Norman church. Since the duke’s return from the Crusade, government in Normandy seems to have been almost in abeyance. Nothing could more surely have lost Robert the support of the church than the unrestrained anarchy and disorder which prevailed. Yet there were other grounds on which he was found wanting by the clergy. While dissipating his treasure upon unworthy favorites and unscrupulous courtiers, he had few favors to bestow upon religious foundations. Only a single charter by the duke has survived from the period after his return from the Crusade, a grant of a fair and a market in the village of Cheux to the monks of Saint-Étienne of Caen.[49] But the church had greater and more positive grievances against Robert Curthose. His peace and friendship with Robert of Bellême were an unpardonable offence; and by granting lucrative rights over the bishopric of Séez to this turbulent vassal,[50] the duke had aroused enemies whose influence against him was to prove disastrous in the crisis of 1105. As has already been explained,[51] Serlo, bishop of Séez, and Ralph, abbot of Saint-Martin of Séez, deemed it intolerable longer to endure the oppression of the tyrant; and going into voluntary exile, they sought an asylum in England, where they were warmly welcomed by Henry I.[52] The value which the king attached to the support and services of Abbot Ralph may perhaps be judged by the fact that he was promoted to the see of Rochester in 1108 and made archbishop of Canterbury in 1114; and it is no mere chance that it was Bishop Serlo who was to welcome King Henry and his invading army in Normandy in 1105, and to preach the sermon which was to stand as the public justification of the king’s action in dispossessing his brother of the duchy.[53] But the duke had sinned further against the church through the practice of simony. A peculiarly flagrant case occurred in 1105 in connection with the abbey of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. Upon the death of Abbot Fulk, the duke sold the abbacy for one hundred and forty-five marks of silver to a certain Robert, a wicked monk of Saint-Denis, who like a devouring wolf drove out the monks, built a stronghold in the sacred precincts of the monastery, and garrisoned it with armed retainers whom he hired out of profits derived from the sale of ecclesiastical ornaments belonging to the abbey.[54] More notorious still, and more fatal to the good name of the duke, was the situation which arose in the bishopric of Lisieux upon the death of Gilbert Maminot in August 1101. At first Ranulf Flambard, the notorious bishop of Durham, succeeded in gaining the vacant see for his brother Fulcher, who, in spite of his illiteracy, had some commendable qualities; and since he lived but a few months after his consecration, no active protest was raised against him.[55] But upon his death, Flambard resorted to a more scandalous measure and obtained the see for his son Thomas, a youth some twelve years of age.[56] The duke invested the boy with the sacred office, at the same time agreeing that, if he should die, another of Flambard’s sons, who was still younger, should succeed to the bishopric.[57] And meanwhile Flambard himself administered the affairs of the see, “not as bishop but as steward.”[58] So matters stood for some three years, until in 1105 the great canonist and reformer, Ivo of Chartres, intervened, and through his immense influence elevated what had hitherto been but a flagrant local abuse into an affair of something like European importance. He wrote to the Norman bishops demanding that they put an end to such a scandal.[59] Meanwhile, the serious danger in which Robert Curthose stood of losing his duchy brought him for a moment to his senses, and, at the urgent warning of the archbishop of Rouen and of the bishop of Évreux, he had Flambard and his sons ejected from the see, and gave orders for a canonical election.[60] The choice of the clergy fell upon William, archdeacon of Évreux, a worthy man, who went at once to the metropolitan and demanded consecration;[61] and Ivo of Chartres wrote to congratulate the Norman bishops upon having purged the church of the ‘dirty boys’ who had been thrust into the sacred office.[62] But now new complications arose. It so happened that William Bonne-Ame, archbishop of Rouen, was then under sentence of excommunication, and therefore incompetent to install the new bishop elect. Accordingly, the latter wrote Bishop Ivo to inquire whether under the circumstances he might legitimately receive consecration from the suffragans of the excommunicated archbishop. Ivo confessed himself unable to answer the question, and referred the bishop elect to Rome to deal directly with the Holy See.[63] During this unexpected delay, Flambard executed another ‘tergiversation.’ He induced the duke, in return for a great sum, to confer the bishopric upon one of his clerks, a certain William de Pacy.[64] Again the venerable Ivo wrote to the archbishop of Rouen and the bishop of Évreux to protest against this new introduction of uncleanness into the church which they had so recently purged, and to warn them that unless they acted with vigor to correct this latest abuse, he would bring the “filthy, fetid rumor to the apostolic ears” to their no small disadvantage.[65] The threat was not without avail. William de Pacy was summoned to Rouen to answer before the metropolitan for his conduct, and was able to make no defence. He freely admitted that he had received the bishopric neither by election of clergy and people nor by the free gift of the duke. Judgment upon him, however, was suspended—perhaps because the archbishop was still under sentence of excommunication—and he was sent to Rome, there to be condemned for simony.[66] Bishop Ivo wrote to the Pope setting forth in detail the whole course of the disgraceful business. But now Ivo of Chartres went a step farther. He had put the full weight of the great moral influence which he exerted in Europe upon the Norman bishops. He had laid the scandal of Lisieux before the Pope. He now turned his gaze across the English Channel. Writing to Robert of Meulan, King Henry’s trusted minister, he again protested against the disgraceful intrusion of Ranulf Flambard into the see of Lisieux. He urged him to use his well known influence with the king to induce him to do whatever he could for the liberation of the oppressed church, lest those who had welcomed Henry’s intervention in the affairs of Normandy, and had predicted that good would come of it, “should willy-nilly change the serenity of their praise into clouds of vituperation.” “For,” said he, “kings are not instituted that they may break the laws, but that, if the destroyers of laws cannot otherwise be corrected, they may strike them down with the sword.”[67] Could even a more scrupulous monarch than Henry I have resisted such a call to arms?[68] As a returned crusader, Robert Curthose might possibly have looked to the Holy See for some support against his enemies. Indeed, he had done so. Before embarking upon the invasion of England in 1101, he had written to the Pope complaining that Henry had violated his oath in assuming the English crown; and Pascal had felt constrained to write Anselm a mild letter[69] in which he recognized the special obligations of the papacy to one who had labored “in the liberation of the church of Asia.” He asked Anselm to join with the legates he was sending in mediating between the warring brothers, ‘unless peace had already been made between them.’[70] But at best this was only a perfunctory and belated recognition of an inconvenient obligation, and Pascal can hardly have seriously expected to influence the situation in Duke Robert’s favor. And as time elapsed, the attitude of Pascal did not become more favorable to the duke. In the summer of 1105 the relations between the papacy and Henry I suddenly improved greatly, and from that time rapid progress was made towards a definite settlement of the investiture controversy in England.[71] This removed the last possible consideration which might have induced the Pope to support the duke against the king in Normandy. Moreover, a fragment of Pascal’s correspondence with Robert Curthose, which has recently been brought to light,[72] reveals the fact that at this very time the Pope was engaged in an investiture struggle with the duke. We would gladly know more of this controversy, but this single surviving letter is enough to show that the Pope had complained that, contrary to the law of the church, Robert was performing investitures with staff and ring; that, treating the church not as the spouse of Christ but as a handmaiden, he was giving her over to be ruled by usurping enemies. Probably Pascal referred to the notorious scandals of Lisieux and of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. Something also of the duke’s reply may be gathered from the papal letter. Taking his stand upon the rights and customs of his ancestors, he had boldly claimed for himself the right of investiture. This was sound ducal policy, but it would not be accepted in Rome from such a prince as Robert Curthose. It could only serve to complete the breach between the ex-crusader and the Holy See and leave the duke without support in his hour of need. Meanwhile, in what striking contrast with the weak and blundering policy of Robert Curthose, were the careful, methodical preparations which Henry I was making for the struggle upon which he had determined! With him all was wisdom, foresight, largeness of view, self-control. The friendly relations between the courts of France and England, established at the beginning of Henry’s reign by the state visit of Louis, the king designate of France, have already been remarked upon.[73] Henry I took good care to preserve and cultivate this diplomatic cordiality during the critical years of his struggle for Normandy. And, as will appear in the sequel, his efforts were abundantly rewarded when Prince Louis officially recognized his conquest of the duchy shortly after it was completed.[74] In the same spirit the king prepared for all eventualities on the side of Flanders. In the archives of the English exchequer there has been preserved an original chirograph of a treaty which he concluded, apparently in 1103, with Count Robert of Flanders.[75] By its terms the count bound himself, in exchange for an annual subsidy of four hundred marks, to furnish the king with a force of a thousand knights—for service in Normandy, among other places, be it noted—and to do his utmost to dissuade the king of France from any attack upon the king of England. Further, as the decisive struggle approached, Henry entered into agreements with the princes of Maine, Anjou, and Brittany for contingents to be furnished from those regions to his army for the conquest of Normandy. The record of the negotiations has not been preserved; but we shall meet with these contingents rendering effective service in the campaigns of 1105 and 1106.[76] But Henry prepared himself against the duke not only by the careful manipulation of his relations with foreign powers; he spared no effort to undermine him in the duchy. His intervention in the war of the Breteuil succession and the marriage of his daughter Juliana to Eustace of Breteuil have already been alluded to.[77] A similar purpose must have prompted him to arrange the marriage of another of his natural daughters to Rotrou of Mortagne,[78] one of the chief enemies of Robert of Bellême, and an old companion in arms of Robert Curthose on the Crusade. Some hint, at least, of the nature of the pacification which Robert of Meulan was intended to make when he was sent to Normandy as the king’s special agent in 1103 may be gathered from the efforts which he made to procure the liberation of the ‘avaricious usurer,’ John of Meulan.[79] It can hardly be doubted that Henry was making free use of money in the corruption of the duke’s influential subjects and in the upbuilding of an English party in Normandy. And in this policy he was very successful. Not only were important Norman churchmen imploring his aid and working for his intervention; but many great nobles were either openly or secretly deserting the duke and offering their services to the English cause. The movement is well illustrated by the case of Ralph III of Conches. His father, Ralph II, had been among the Norman barons who upon the death of William Rufus had taken up arms and plundered the lands of Robert of Meulan at Beaumont.[80] He was certainly no friend of Henry I. But upon his death, probably in 1102,[81] his son saw new light. Crossing to England, he was cordially welcomed by the king, who granted him his father’s lands and the hand of an English heiress who was connected with the royal family.[82] Such a shining example was not lost upon other Norman barons who now deserted the duke and besought King Henry ‘with tears’ to come to the aid of the suffering church and of their wretched country.[83] By the beginning of 1104, Henry I had acquired a strong party, both lay and ecclesiastical, in Normandy, which eagerly awaited his coming and stood ready to aid him in the overthrow of Robert Curthose and in the conquest of the duchy. He had never given up Domfront, and he apparently retained possession of certain strongholds in the Cotentin,[84] the treaty of Alton notwithstanding. Upon these he could rely as a secure base while his friends rallied around him after he had landed on Norman soil. Henry’s diplomacy, however, could not remove all enemies from his path, and he sometimes chose to defy them. William of Mortain, earl of Cornwall, had been among the duke’s most powerful supporters against the king in 1101. Yet, for some unexplained reason, he did not suffer the prompt banishment to which the Bellêmes and other traitors were condemned when the crisis of the invasion had passed. The king temporized and kept up at least an appearance of friendship. It is even intimated that in 1104 he sent the earl to Normandy to act on his behalf. However this may be, when William of Mortain arrived in Normandy, he worked against the king rather than for him, and, as a result, was promptly deprived of all his English honors.[85] The duke had gained at least one supporter who would not desert him. The year 1104 was for Henry I a period of active preparation for an enterprise which he was not yet ready publicly to avow. His trusted agents were busy in Normandy preparing the way with English treasure. Gradually and quietly he was sending men and equipment to reënforce the garrisons of his Norman strongholds.[86] Indeed, if Ordericus Vitalis can be trusted,[87] Henry himself crossed the Channel with a fleet and paid a visit to Domfront and his castles in Normandy in great state, and was welcomed by Robert of Meulan, Richard earl of Chester, Stephen of Aumale, Henry of Eu, Rotrou of Mortagne, Robert Fitz Hamon, Robert de Montfort, Ralph de Mortimer, and many others who held estates in England and were ready to support him in an attack upon the duchy. The list shows strikingly the proportions to which the English party in Normandy had grown. Encouraged by his enthusiastic reception, the king is said to have taken a lofty tone in his dealings with the duke. He summoned him to a conference and lectured him upon his incompetence. Again, as the year before in England, he upbraided him for making peace with Robert of Bellême and for granting to him the domains of the Conqueror, contrary to their agreements. He charged him with abetting highwaymen and brigands, and with dissipating the wealth of his duchy upon the impudent scamps and hangers-on who surrounded him. He declared him neither a real prince nor a shepherd of his people, since he suffered the defenceless population to remain a prey to ravening wolves. This eloquent indictment, we are told, quite overwhelmed the duke. Though he placed the blame for his misdeeds upon his turbulent associates, he craved the king’s pardon and offered to compensate him by surrendering the homage of William of Évreux together with his county and his vassals. Henry accepted the offer, William of Évreux agreed, and a formal transfer of the homage was effected, the duke placing the count’s hands between the hands of the king. And with this reward for his pains, Henry returned to England “before winter,” doubtless more than ever convinced of the weakness of Robert Curthose and of the feasibility of his overthrow and of the conquest of the duchy.[88] Henry’s visit had given a further shock to the duke’s prestige, and his return to England was followed by a renewed outbreak of anarchy and disorder in the duchy. Robert of Bellême and William of Mortain, in high indignation at the new advantages which the king had gained, began to attack his adherents, and such was the harrying and burning and wholesale murder which ensued that many of the unarmed peasants fled into France with their wives and children.[89] Robert Fitz Hamon, lord of Torigny and Creully, one of the duke’s chief supporters in 1101, had thrown in his lot with the king, and his treason against the duke had been of so black a character as to render him particularly odious among loyal subjects and to arouse intense indignation against him. He now took to plundering the countryside, and as he was harrying the Bessin, Gontier d’Aunay and Reginald of Warenne with the forces from Bayeux and Caen managed to cut him off and surround him in the village of Secqueville. He sought refuge in the church tower, but the sanctuary did not protect him; for the church was burned, and he was taken prisoner. As his captors led him away to Bayeux, they had great difficulty to keep him from the hands of the mob which crowded after them, shouting La hart, la hart al traitor Qui a guerpi son dreit seignor![90] Such were the chaotic conditions in Normandy as they are depicted for us in the spring of 1105. Yet we should beware of exaggeration. They may not have been general. Indeed, they probably were not. Our evidence, at best, is but fragmentary, and it rests in the main upon the testimony of Ordericus Vitalis, who was no friend of Robert Curthose, and who dwelt in the debatable region of the south, where the lawless elements were most unbridled, and where the disturbing influence of English aggression had made most headway. Even though we accept at its face value the testimony concerning the diocese of Séez, the Bessin, and the Cotentin, it seems reasonable, in the absence of such evidence for other parts of the duchy, to conclude that conditions elsewhere were almost certainly better. It is impossible to form anything like a complete picture of the state of the defences of the duchy upon the eve of the English invasion. Robert of Bellême and William of Mortain, by far the most powerful of the duke’s supporters, were still in undisputed possession of their hereditary Norman dominions. Robert d’Estouteville had charge of the duke’s troops and castles in the pays de Caux.[91] Hugh de Nonant was in command at Rouen.[92] His nephew Gontier d’Aunay was charged with the defence of Bayeux;[93] and, apparently, Enguerran, son of Ilbert de Lacy, with that of Caen.[94] Others of the duke’s chief supporters were Reginald of Warenne,[95] brother of the earl of Surrey, and William of Conversano,[96] brother of the late Duchess Sibyl. The ducal forces were evidently too weak to offer effectual resistance in the open. Robert’s hope lay in the strength of his fortresses; and it appears that he made a spirited effort to put them in a state of defence, though his financial resources were near exhaustion. Wace is specific with regard to the works which were undertaken at Caen. In his day, it was still possible to trace one of the great trenches which had been dug par la rue Meisine, Qui a la porte Milet fine, and which was connected with the waters of the Orne. So long as the duke could raise money by laying taxes upon the burgesses, he hired mercenaries, and for the rest he made promises. But his exactions only served to stir up the townsmen against him, without being in any way adequate to keep his forces together. In a steady stream they deserted to the king, and the helpless duke could only remark characteristically: Laissiez aler! Ne poon a toz estriver; Laissiez aler, laissiez venir! Ne poon pas toz retenir.[97] Meanwhile, Henry I, having fitted out his expedition for the invasion of Normandy, crossed the Channel in Holy Week 1105,[98] and landed without opposition at Barfleur in the Cotentin; and on Easter eve he found quarters in the village of Carentan.[99] Then, according to the account of Ordericus Vitalis, there followed an amazing piece of acting. The venerable Serlo, bishop of Séez, “first of the Normans to offer his services to the king,” came to Carentan to celebrate Easter in the royal presence. Clothing himself in his sacred vestments, he entered the church. And while he sat awaiting the assembling of the people and of the king’s followers before beginning the service, he observed that the church was filled with all sorts of chests and utensils and various kinds of gear which the peasants had brought in for protection from the war and anarchy which were devastating the Cotentin. It was probably in the main from pillage by the king’s forces that the frightened peasantry were seeking protection,[100] but this fact did not prevent the facile bishop from making the scene before him his point of departure for a ringing appeal to arms, and for a public justification of Henry’s attack upon Normandy. Observing the king with a group of his nobles seated humbly among the peasants’ panniers at the lower end of the church, Serlo heaved a deep sigh for the misery of the people and rose to speak. The hearts of all the faithful, he said, should mourn for the distresses of the church and for the wretchedness of the people. The Cotentin was laid waste and depopulated. For lack of a governor all Normandy was a prey to thieves and robbers. The church of God, which ought to be a place of prayer, was now, for want of a righteous defender, turned into a storehouse for the peasants’ belongings. There was no room left in which to kneel reverently or to stand devoutly before the Divine Majesty because of the clutter of goods which the helpless rustics for fear of plunderers had brought into the Lord’s house. And so, where government failed, the church had perforce become the refuge of a defenceless people. Yet not even in the church was there security; for that very year, in Serlo’s own diocese of Séez, Robert of Bellême had burned the church of Tournay to the ground, and men and women to the number of forty-five had perished in it. Robert, the king’s brother, did not really possess the duchy or rule his people as a duke who walked in the path of justice. He was an indolent and an abandoned prince, who had made himself subservient to William of Conversano, Hugh de Nonant, and Gontier d’Aunay. He had dissipated the wealth of his fair duchy in vanity and upon trifles. Often he fasted till three in the afternoon for lack of bread. Often he dared not rise from bed and attend mass for want of trousers, stockings, and shoes; for the buffoons and harlots who infested his quarters had carried them off during the night while he lay snoring in drunkenness; and then they impudently boasted that they had robbed the duke. So, the head languishing, the whole body was sick, and a prince without understanding had placed the whole duchy in peril. Let the king arise, therefore, in God’s name, and obtain his paternal inheritance with the sword of justice. Let him snatch his ancestral possessions from the hands of base men. Let him give rein to his righteous anger, as did David of old, not from any worldly desire for territorial aggrandizement, but for the defence of his ‘native soil.’[101] Moved by this stirring appeal, the king gravely arose. “In the Lord’s name,” he said, “I will rise to this labor for the sake of peace, and with your aid I will seek peace for the church.” Robert of Meulan and other barons present applauded the momentous decision. And now, behold another wonder! King Henry had become the defender of the church. In order that his virtue might appear the more transcendent, he was now to join the ranks of the reformers of morals. The venerable Serlo, resuming his discourse, proceeded to harangue the king and his suite upon the evils of the outlandish fashions which had recently been taken up in high society, to the great scandal of the clergy and of decent Christians. Like obdurate sons of Belial, the men of fashion had taken to dressing their hair like women and to wearing things like scorpion’s tails at the extremities of their feet, so that they resembled women because of their effeminacy, and serpents by reason of their pointed fangs. This kind of men had been foretold a thousand years before by St. John the Divine, under the figure of locusts. Let the king offer his subjects a laudable example, in order that they might see in his person a model by which to regulate their own. Again Henry was convinced by episcopal eloquence and readily assented to Serlo’s proposal. The bishop had come prepared. Amid a general consternation which may well be imagined, he drew shears from his wallet and proceeded to crop the royal locks. Robert of Meulan was the next victim to be sacrificed to the bishop’s reforming zeal. And by this time the rest of the royal household and the congregation, anticipating a positive order from the king, began to vie with one another as to which should be shorn first; and soon they were trampling under foot as vile refuse the locks which a few moments before they had cherished as their most precious possessions.[102] The reader may, perhaps, be left to judge for himself as to the amount of credibility to be attached to the highly colored and obviously strongly prejudiced narrative of Ordericus Vitalis which has here been paraphrased. It clearly has a significance of its own, quite apart from the question of strict historical veracity. The speech of Bishop Serlo, as we have it, is, of course, not his at all, but a literary creation of the monk of Saint-Évroul. Yet it must pretty faithfully represent the contemporary point of view of the Norman clergy and of royal apologists generally. It sets forth the king’s ‘platform,’ to borrow a very modern term, and contains the grounds on which contemporaries attempted to justify what was in reality an unjustifiable act of aggression. Moreover, in spite of much imaginary coloring, there must be a certain residuum of truth in Ordericus’s narrative, which illustrates again in a striking manner the extreme care and almost endless detail with which Henry I prepared his way for the conquest of Normandy. In spite of the mediaeval trappings, there is something almost modern about this elaborate attempt to manipulate public opinion and to crystallize a party. Further, it is not a little significant that the Easter scene at Carentan could have been enacted at all. That Henry should have been able to land an invading army at Barfleur, advance without opposition to an unprotected village, and there delay at will in all security, is a striking proof of the defenceless condition of the duchy. The duke’s sole reliance was in his strongholds. There is no evidence that he had any force assembled to oppose the invader in the open. King Henry had no need to hurry. While he delayed at Carentan, his supporters in Normandy rallied around him, and his forces gained greatly in strength. His landing at Barfleur had been the signal for further desertions among the duke’s vassals. English gold and silver were all-powerful.[103] Wace says the king had ‘bushels’ of the precious treasure. He carried it about with him in ‘hogsheads’ loaded upon carts, and by its judicious distribution among barons, castellans, and doughty warriors, he readily persuaded them to desert their lord the duke.[104] Meanwhile, Henry sent envoys to King Philip of France,[105] and summoned his allies, Geoffrey Martel and Helias of La Flèche, to join him with their Angevins and Manceaux.[106] The military events of the campaign which followed are obscure, and can be traced with little chronological certainty. We hear of some sort of hostile encounter at Maromme near Rouen shortly after Easter, but we know nothing about it, save that a certain knight in the service of Robert d’Estouteville was slain.[107] The chief military undertaking of the campaign was undoubtedly the siege of Bayeux. Against Bayeux and its commander, Gontier d’Aunay, the king had a particular grievance because of the capture and imprisonment of his supporter Robert Fitz Hamon.[108] Accordingly, he assembled all his forces, including his allies from Maine and Anjou, and laid siege to Bayeux.[109] Gontier d’Aunay went out to meet him and promptly handed over his prisoner, Robert Fitz Hamon. He declined, however, to make any further concessions, and Henry refused to raise the siege.[110] But the garrison failed to justify the confidence which their commander had placed in them,[111] and, in an assault, Henry managed to fire the city.[112] A high wind carried the flames from roof to roof, and soon the whole place was swept by the conflagration. Bishop Odo’s beautiful cathedral and several other churches, the house of the canons attached to the cathedral, the house of a distinguished citizen named Conan, almost all the buildings in the town, in fact, except a few poor huts, were destroyed. Many of the inhabitants, who in their terror had fled to the cathedral, perished in the flames. The place was given over to be plundered by the Manceaux and the Angevins, and Gontier d’Aunay and many of the garrison were taken captive.[113] Caen was the next important place to fall into Henry’s hands; but here no siege was necessary. The fate of Bayeux had spread consternation throughout the duchy, and served as a terrible warning of what might be expected, if resistance proved unsuccessful; and the burgesses of Caen had little love for the duke, who had made them feel the weight of his exactions. Accordingly, a conspiracy was formed among certain of the leading citizens, Enguerran de Lacy and the ducal garrison were expelled, and the town was basely surrendered to the English, to the intense indignation of the common people, among whom the duke appears to have been popular.[114] Robert Curthose was himself in Caen at the time, and, learning of the plot at the last moment, he fled headlong to the Hiémois. His attendants, who followed closely after him, were held up at the gate, and his baggage was rifled.[115] In grateful appreciation of this easy conquest, the king conferred the manor of Dallington, in England, upon the wealthy burgesses who had betrayed the second town of Normandy into his hands.[116] Having gained possession of Bayeux and Caen, the king marched upon the strong castle of Falaise. But at this moment he temporarily lost the powerful support of the count of Maine. “At the request of the Normans,” it is not said of what Normans, Helias of La Flèche withdrew from the contest; and Henry found his forces so weakened that he was obliged to abandon the attack upon Falaise until the following year. Some desultory fighting occurred, however, in which one of the king’s knights, Roger of Gloucester, was mortally wounded by a shaft from a crossbow.[117] Almost simultaneously, apparently, with the operations about Falaise, Robert and Henry attempted to make peace. In the week of Pentecost (21-28 May), they met in conference at the village of Cintheaux near Falaise and endeavored for two days to arrive at an agreement. But the king was prepared to offer no terms which the duke could accept, and the negotiations were broken off.[118] There was, indeed, no good reason why Henry should have made peace, except to gain time while he reëquipped himself for the completion of the enterprise upon which he had embarked. The sources speak specifically only of the conquest of Bayeux and of Caen during the campaign of 1105. Yet it is certain that the extension of the king’s domination through the influence of English gold and through the voluntary surrender of numerous minor strongholds had gone much further than this.[119] Eadmer, writing of the situation as he himself saw it in Normandy in July 1105, was able to say that almost all Normandy had been subjected to the king. The power of the duke had been reduced to such a point that hardly any one obeyed him or rendered him the respect due to a prince. Almost all the barons spurned his authority and betrayed the fealty which they owed him, while they ran after the king’s gold and silver and surrendered towns and castles on every side.[120] Yet with all his success, Henry was unable to complete the conquest of Normandy in a single campaign. Even hogsheads may be drained, and the method of waging war with gold and silver, as well as with the sword, had been costly. Before completing his task, he found it necessary to return to England and replenish his supplies.[121] But before returning to England, Henry had a diplomatic problem of great importance to solve. Since 1103 Anselm had been living in exile, and the investiture controversy had been in abeyance. But the archbishop had at last grown restive and had decided to resort to the extreme measure of excommunicating the king. Rumor of the impending sentence spread throughout France, England, and Normandy, and caused not a little uneasiness.[122] In the midst of his struggle for Normandy with Robert Curthose, Henry could not but view this new danger with grave concern; and he never showed to better advantage than in the broad and statesmanlike way in which he met the crisis. Through the mediation of Ivo of Chartres and of the king’s sister, Countess Adela of Blois, a conference was arranged between him and the archbishop, to be held on 22 July at Laigle on the Norman frontier. There he received Anselm with the utmost courtesy, and, since he was in no position to drive matters to a rupture, he showed himself sincerely desirous of arriving at an amicable adjustment. Anselm, too, was disposed to compromise; and they were soon able to agree upon the broad lines of a final settlement of the long controversy. Messengers were despatched to Rome by both the king and the archbishop to secure the ratification of the Holy See.[123] The details of a formal concordat had yet to be arranged; but friendly relations were now completely restored between Henry and Anselm, and the ecclesiastical crisis was averted. In August[124] the king returned to England, “and what he had won in Normandy continued afterwards in peace and obedient to him, except those who dwelt anywhere near Count William of Mortain.”[125] In point of fact, William of Mortain and Robert of Bellême appear to have been almost the only really powerful barons in Normandy who still supported the duke, and the loyalty even of the Bellême interests could probably have been shaken had the king so desired. Before Christmas Robert of Bellême paid a visit to England and sought an interview with the king. It would be hazardous to infer that he, too, was contemplating a desertion of the ducal cause; but whatever his mission, he failed to accomplish it, and, departing from the king’s Christmas court ‘unreconciled,’ he returned to Normandy.[126] It was not long before the king had a more important visitor from beyond the sea. Early in 1106 Robert Curthose himself crossed the Channel, and, in an interview with the king at Northampton, besought him to restore the conquests which he had won from him in Normandy.[127] The duke must have felt his situation almost desperate, yet it is difficult to imagine what inducements he expected to offer, or how, in the light of his past experience, he could have dreamed of gaining a concession or any consideration from his unscrupulous brother. Henry could well afford to be obdurate, and he returned a flat refusal to the duke’s demands. Robert withdrew in anger, and returned to his duchy;[128] and Henry wrote immediately to Anselm, who was still in Normandy, announcing his own crossing for 3 May following. It is not quite easy to see why he should have stated in his letter that Robert had parted with him amicably,[129] but the ways of diplomacy are often obscure. Robert Curthose now knew beyond all question what he had to expect, and, as formerly in the crisis of his struggle with William Rufus, he sought aid from without. If the unsupported statement of William of Malmesbury may be accepted, he appealed to his overlord, the king of France, and to Robert of Flanders in a conference at Rouen;[130] but the far-seeing diplomacy of Henry I had anticipated him,[131] and he was able to obtain no assistance. Meanwhile, Henry had completed his preparations for a second invasion of Normandy, and “before August”[132] he crossed the Channel. He landed without opposition, but soon afterwards, apparently, an attempt was made to take him in an ambush. Abbot Robert of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives, the notorious simoniac, entered into a secret compact with the duke and some of his barons at Falaise to betray the king into their hands. Then, while Reginald of Warenne and the younger Robert d’Estouteville, with a considerable body of knights, installed themselves in the fortress which the abbot had constructed within the precincts of his monastery, he paid a visit to the king at Caen and treacherously agreed to surrender the fortress to him, at the same time advising him to come quietly with but a few knights to take it, in order to avoid giving the alarm. But Henry did not ride blindly into the trap that was set for him. Placing himself at the head of a force of seven hundred horse, he came suddenly upon the monastery at daybreak after an all night’s ride; and, as soon as he had apprised himself of the true situation, he launched an instant attack, burned both the monastery and the fortress, and took Reginald of Warenne, Robert d’Estouteville, and many of their men captive. Reënforcements on their way from Falaise saw the conflagration and turned back in flight. The attempted ambush had been turned into a notable royal victory. The treacherous Abbot Robert was also taken. Thrown across a horse ‘like a sack,’ he was brought before the king, who expelled him from the land with the declaration that, if it were not for his sacred orders, he would have him torn limb from limb.[133] As we have noted, the duke’s power was in the main confined to scattered strongholds such as Falaise and Rouen.[134] Through the open country Henry was able to move about practically at will. He went to Bec and had a cordial interview with Anselm (15 August). Much progress had been made towards the settlement of the investiture controversy since their meeting at Laigle the year before, and they were now completely reconciled. Anselm returned to England disposed to give the king his full support.[135] Every moral obstacle now seemed removed from Henry’s path.[136] Meanwhile, or soon after,[137] the king began operations against the castle of Tinchebray. Adopting the well known expedient of the siegecraft of the period, he erected a counter fortress against the place, and installed in it Thomas de Saint-Jean with a garrison of knights and foot soldiers. Thereupon William of Mortain, lord of Tinchebray, collected forces which were more than a match for Thomas de Saint-Jean and his men, and threw food and necessary supplies into the stronghold.[138] But by this time the king had been powerfully reënforced with auxiliary troops from Maine and Brittany, under the command of Helias of La Flèche and of Alan Fergant,[139] and he began the siege of Tinchebray in earnest.[140] Robert Curthose, now reduced to desperate straits, and urged on by the importunity of William of Mortain,[141] decided to stake all on the issue of a battle in the open.[142] Collecting all his forces, he marched upon Tinchebray and challenged the king to raise the siege or prepare for battle.[143] Again, as at Alton in 1101, the two brothers stood facing one another, about to engage in a fratricidal struggle. But again there were negotiations. Certain men of religion, the venerable hermit Vitalis among them, intervened to prevent the conflict.[144] The king, as always, was careful to justify himself before the public eye; and, if we can trust our authority, he offered terms of peace. Protesting loudly that he was actuated by no worldly ambition, but only by a desire to succor the poor and to protect the suffering church, he proposed that the duke surrender to him all the castles in Normandy and the whole financial and judicial administration of the duchy, reserving for himself one half of the revenues. Henry, on his side, would undertake to pay the duke, out of the English treasury, an annual subsidy equal to the other half of the Norman revenues; and, for the future, Robert might revel in feasts and games and all delights, in perfect security and in freedom from all care. Such terms, if indeed they were ever really proposed, were in themselves an insult. And, moreover, the duke had already had bitter experience of Henry’s devotion to treaties. The monk of Saint-Évroul, therefore, becomes quite incredible when he would have us believe that Robert laid these proposals seriously before his council, and insinuates that he was inclined to accede to them. In any case, the duke’s supporters rejected them with violent language, and negotiations were broken off.[145] Both sides now prepared for battle. The sources are by no means clear, or in perfect accord, as to the exact disposition of the forces in the battle of Tinchebray; but the general plan of the engagement is clear,[146] as is also the very considerable numerical superiority which the king enjoyed.[147] The forces on either side were composed of both mounted knights and foot soldiers;[148] and, so far as it is possible to say from the evidence, they were arranged in columns of successive divisions, called _acies_, drawn up one behind another.[149] William of Mortain commanded the vanguard of the ducal forces, and Robert of Bellême the rear.[150] It is not clear what position the duke held in the battle formation.[151] Our information as to the disposition of the royal forces is fuller, but confusing. The first division, or _acies_, was composed in the main of foot soldiers from the Bessin, the Avranchin, and the Cotentin—probably under the command of Ranulf of Bayeux[152]—but they were supported by a considerable body of mounted knights. The second division, under the immediate command of King Henry, was likewise made up of both mounted knights and men fighting on foot, the latter in this case being the king in person and a considerable number of his barons who had dismounted in order to give greater stability to the line.[153] A further division of some sort may have been placed in reserve in the rear.[154] Most important of all, the auxiliary knights from Maine and Brittany, under the command of Helias of La Flèche and Alan Fergant, were stationed on the field at some distance to one side[155] in readiness for a strategic stroke at the proper moment. The action was opened by William of Mortain, who charged at the head of Robert’s vanguard;[156] and for a time the ducal forces gained a considerable advantage and pushed the royal van back at several points. But they were unable to gain a decision; and while the opposing forces were locked together in a great mêlée of hand-to-hand encounters, the Bretons and the Manceaux charged impetuously from their distant position, and, falling upon the flank of the ducal forces, cut them in two and wrought great havoc among the foot soldiers.[157] Robert of Bellême, seeing which way the battle was going, saved himself by flight; and the forces of the duke thereupon dissolved in a general rout.[158] Robert Curthose was captured by Waldric, the king’s chancellor, who, though a cleric, had taken his place among the knights in the battle.[159] The Bretons captured William of Mortain and were with some difficulty persuaded to surrender their prize to the king. Robert d’Estouteville, William de Ferrières, William Crispin, Edgar Atheling, and many others were also taken prisoners.[160] Henry pardoned some, including the Atheling, and set them at liberty, but others he kept in confinement for the rest of their lives.[161] A considerable number of the duke’s foot soldiers had been slain, and many more had been captured.[162] But the casualties among the king’s forces had been negligible. “Hardly two” of his men had been killed, while “only one,” Robert de Bonebos, had been wounded.[163] The battle had been joined at about nine o’clock in the morning, probably on the 29th of September[164] 1106. It had lasted “barely an hour,”[165] yet it deserves to rank among the decisive battles of the twelfth century, for it had settled the fate of Normandy and of Robert Curthose. FOOTNOTES [1] Ordericus, iv, p. 116. [2] “Nec simul, sed separatim variisque temporibus, de multimodis violatae fidei reatibus implacitavit.” Ordericus, iv, p. 161. [3] _Ibid._, pp. 167-168. He died on the way. For Ivo’s flight from Antioch during the First Crusade, see _supra_, p. 107, n. 88. [4] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161, 167. [5] “Diligenter enim eum fecerat per unum annum explorari, et vituperabiles actus per privatos exploratores caute investigari, summopereque litteris annotari.” _Ibid._, pp. 169-170; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 50. [6] Probably the Easter court at Winchester. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102. [7] Ordericus, iv, p. 170; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 50. [8] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 51. [9] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161, 169-177; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1102; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 49-50; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 472-473; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 445-446. For a much fuller account of the expulsion of Robert of Bellême, and for its significance in English history, see Freeman, _William Rufus_, ii, pp. 415-450. [10] Ordericus, iv, pp. 177-178; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 50-51; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 473. [11] Ordericus, iv, p. 178. [12] _Ibid._, p. 98. [13] Cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 473; Ordericus, iv, p. 177. [14] Ordericus, iv, pp. 171-172. [15] _Ibid._, p. 172. [16] Ordericus, iv, pp. 176, 177. [17] _Ibid._, pp. 178-179. [18] _Ibid._, p. 179. [19] Ordericus Vitalis gives the date of these events as “mense Iunio,” probably 1103. The nuns of Almenèches were dispersed, Abbess Emma with three of her associates taking refuge at Saint-Évroul. It is not improbable that Ordericus got much of his information from her. _Ibid._, pp. 179-180; cf. pp. 182-183. [20] Ordericus, iv, p. 180. Exmes was in the keeping of Mauger Malherbe, who had been placed there by Roger de Lacy, the duke’s _magister militum_. [21] _Ibid._, pp. 180-181. [22] _Ibid._, pp. 181-182. [23] Ordericus, iv, p. 192; cf. pp. 162-163, 200. The terms of the treaty are not recorded, except that apparently the duke conceded to Robert of Bellême “the castle of Argentan, the bishopric of Séez, and the forest of Gouffern.” Inasmuch as the duke had originally made this grant before the expedition against England in 1101 (_supra_, p. 127 and n. 30), it seems evident that at some time during the struggle with Bellême he had revoked it, and that now, upon making peace, he was obliged to restore it or confirm it. Ordericus charges repeatedly that in making this peace without consulting Henry I, the duke acted in direct violation of the treaty of Alton. Ordericus, iv, pp. 162, 192, 200. [24] _Ibid._, p. 192. [25] He died on 12 January, probably in 1103. _Ibid._, ii, p. 407; iv, pp. 183, 185. Robert of Torigny gives the date of his death as 9 January 1099. _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, ed. Léopold Delisle (Rouen, 1872-73), ii, p. 154. But this is clearly an error, since he was present at the dedication of the church of Saint-Évroul in October 1099, and since he was at Winchester in August 1100, when Henry I seized the royal treasure after the death of William Rufus. [26] Ordericus, iv, p. 185; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 290. [27] _Supra_, pp. 76, 78. [28] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 290; Ordericus, iv, p. 186. [29] Ordericus, iv, pp. 186-187. [30] _Ibid._, p. 187; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 290, 308. [31] Ordericus, iv, p. 190. [32] Ordericus, iv, p. 191. [33] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285; Ordericus, iv, p. 78; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 438. [34] _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285. [35] _Ibid._; Ordericus, iv, p. 78; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 438. [36] Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 184) says she died ‘in Lent,’ probably in 1102. Cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 461; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285. [37] Ordericus, iv, pp. 184-185. Her tomb in the nave of the great church was covered with a slab of white marble bearing her epitaph, which has been preserved in Ordericus Vitalis. [38] _G. R._, ii, p. 461. [39] Ordericus, iv, pp. 184, 473. [40] “Vixit autem in Normannia parvo tempore, invidia et factione quorumdam nobilium feminarum decepta.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 285. [41] Ordericus, iv, pp. 161-162; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 448. [42] _Ibid._, pp. 448-449; Ordericus, iv, p. 162; _A.-S.C._, _a._ 1103; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 52; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234. [43] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 449. [44] The foregoing details have been drawn from Ordericus (iv, pp. 162-163) and from Wace (_Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 449-454), the only writers who report this episode with any fulness. They are not in complete accord, yet on the whole they confirm and support one another to a remarkable degree. Ordericus endeavors to justify the king at every point. Wace, on the other hand, sees the king’s action in its true light, but he adds many details which are probably imaginative. Ordericus makes no mention of the part played by the queen; but Wace makes this a leading feature of the episode. Can this be mere embroidery on the brief statement of William of Malmesbury: “Porro ille, quasi cum fortuna certaret utrum plus illa daret an ipse dispergeret, sola voluntate reginae tacite postulantis comperta, tantam massam argenti benignus in perpetuum ignovit; acclines foeminei fastus preces pro magno exosculatus; erat enim eius in baptismo filiola”? _G. R._, ii, p. 462. [45] _Ibid._, p. 474. The same notion finds expression in Wace, not as a fact, but as a current opinion. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 448. [46] Even Ordericus Vitalis cannot conceal it. [47] _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 451. [48] Ordericus, iv, p. 163. [49] Haskins, pp. 286-287, no. 3. [50] Cf. _supra_, p. 127, and n. 30. [51] _Supra_, p. 144. [52] Ordericus, iv, p. 192. [53] _Infra_, pp. 161-164. [54] Ordericus, iv, p. 215; _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 155. [55] Ordericus, iv, p. 116. Bishop Fulcher died 29 January 1102. [56] _Ibid._, pp. 116-117; Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, and cf. no. 149, in _H. F._, xv, pp. 134, 131. [57] _Ibid._, no. 157. [58] Ordericus, iv, p. 117. [59] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, in _H. F._, xv. p. 134. [60] _Ibid._ [61] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 157, in _H. F._, xv, p. 134. [62] _Ibid._, no. 153. [63] _Ibid._, no. 157. [64] _Ibid._; Ordericus, iv, p. 117. [65] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 153, in _H. F._, xv, p. 133. [66] _Ibid._, no. 157; Ordericus, iv, p. 117. [67] Ivo of Chartres, _Epistolae_, no. 154, in _H. F._, xv, pp. 133-134. [68] It does not appear that the duke was seriously involved in the ecclesiastical controversy over Thorold, the appointee of William Rufus to the see of Bayeux after the death of Bishop Odo. On 8 October, apparently 1104, Pascal II wrote to the clergy and people of Bayeux announcing the condemnation of Thorold because, among other things, he had failed to keep his promise to King Henry not to receive investiture from Duke Robert: “Pro his igitur omnibus pro fide etiam non accipiendi a Normannorum comite honoris aecclesiastici ante conspectum Anglici regis data depositionis in eum erat promenda sententia.” “Lettre inédite de Pascal II,” ed. Germain Morin, in _Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique_, v (1904), pp. 284-285. But the execution of the sentence was delayed for a long period, and the Pope satisfied himself that Thorold had not received investiture from the duke. _Epistolae Paschalis_, in Migne, clxiii, col. 188. Thorold was deposed, however, upon other grounds, apparently in 1107. Ordericus, iv, p. 18; Morin, in _Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique_, v, pp. 286-288. For an exhaustive discussion of all that is known and for many conjectures about Thorold, see Wilhelm Tavernier, “Beiträge zur Rolandsforschung,” in _Zeitschrift für französiche Sprache und Litteratur_, xxxvii, pp. 103-124; xxxviii, pp. 117-135; xxxix, pp. 133-151. Tavernier believes that Thorold was the author of the _Chanson de Roland_. [69] _Epistolae Paschalis_, in Migne, clxiii, col. 81. [70] “Nosti quia eidem comiti debemus auxilium pro laboribus quos in Asianae Ecclesiae liberatione laboravit. Idcirco volumus ut, si necdum inter eos pax composita est, te satagente, nostris nuntiis intervenientibus, componatur.” [71] _Infra_, pp. 168-169. [72] A letter discovered by Wilhelm Levison in the British Museum (Harleian MSS., 633) and published in _Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde_, xxxv (1909), p. 427. Reprinted by Léopold Delisle, in _Bibliothèque de l’École des Chartes_, lxxi, p. 466. [73] _Supra_, p. 122. [74] _Infra_, p. 180. [75] Thomas Rymer, _Foedera_, ed. Record Commission (London, 1816-69), i, p. 7, _ex originali_, but incomplete and fragmentary; _Liber Niger Scaccarii_, ed. Thomas Hearne, 2d ed. (London, 1771), i, pp. 7-15. The original, though very badly damaged, is still extant in the Public Record Office. The document itself is dated 10 March at Dover; and a reference in Eadmer (p. 146) seems to fix it in the year 1103. Cf. J. M. Lappenberg, _Geschichte von England_ (Hamburg, 1834-37), ii, pp. 240-241; Freeman, _Norman Conquest_, v, pp. 850-851; Henri Pirenne, _Histoire de Belgique_, 3d ed. (Brussels, 1909), i, p. 102. The treaty of 1103 is but one of a series of similar agreements beginning with the original grant of a money fief by the Conqueror to Count Baldwin V (William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 478) and extending to the reign of Henry II (_Foedera_, i, pp. 6, 7, 22; _Liber Niger_, i, pp. 7-34). All these agreements, and especially the one of 1103, are being studied by Dr. Robert H. George in a work on the relations of England and Flanders. Harvard doctoral dissertation, 1916. [76] _Infra_, pp. 164, 165, 167, 172, 174-175. [77] _Supra_, pp. 145-146. [78] Ordericus, iv, pp. 187, 418; v, p. 4; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 307. [79] _Supra_, pp. 145-146. [80] _Supra_, p. 140. [81] Ordericus, ii, p. 404, n. 6. [82] _Ibid._, iv, p. 198; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 327. [83] Ordericus, iv, pp. 198-199. [84] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 455-459; cf. p. 444. [85] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 473-474; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1104; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 53; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 234-235; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307; cf. Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 445. [86] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1104; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 234. [87] Ordericus, iv, p. 199. No other writer mentions the journey of Henry I to Normandy in 1104; and it is not clear that Ordericus is wholly trustworthy at this point, though his testimony is too specific to be rejected. He treats the campaigns of 1105 and 1106 together in a most confusing manner. [88] Ordericus, iv, pp. 199-201. [89] _Ibid._, pp. 201-202. [90] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 470. He tells the story with much picturesque detail. He is in the main confirmed by Ordericus, iv, pp. 203-204. [91] Ordericus, iv, p. 214. [92] _Ibid._, p. 206. [93] _Ibid._, pp. 203, 206, 219, 401; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 469. [94] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219, 401. [95] _Ibid._, pp. 203, 222-223. [96] _Ibid._, p. 206. [97] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 461-463. [98] Ordericus, iv, p. 204; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105; cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 53. [99] Ordericus, iv, p. 204. [100] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 460-461. [101] Normandy now becomes the _solum natale_ of King Henry! [102] Ordericus, iv, pp. 204-210. [103] “Omnes igitur ferme Normannorum maiores illico ad regis adventum, spreto comite domino suo, et fidem quam ei debebant postponentes, in aurum et argentum regis cucurrerunt, eique civitates castra et urbes tradiderunt.” Eadmer, p. 165; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54. [104] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 460. [105] Ordericus, iv, p. 210. [106] _Ibid._; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 461. [107] Ordericus, iv, pp. 214-215. A charter in favor of St. Mary of Bec, attested by Hugh d’Envermeu “in obsidione ante Archas,” not improbably belongs to this year, and indicates that military operations were undertaken against Arques. Round, _C. D. F._, no. 393. [108] _Supra_, p. 159. [109] Ordericus, iv, p. 219; _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, in _Recueil d’annales angevines et vendômoises_, ed. Halphen, p. 44; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; _Versus Serlonis de Capta Baiocensium Civilate_, in _H. F._, xix, pp. xci, xciii. On this poem and its author see the exhaustive study by Heinrich Böhmer, “Der sogenannte Serlo von Bayeux und die ihm zugeschriebenen Gedichte,” in _Neues Archiv_, xxii, pp. 701-738. [110] Ordericus, iv, p. 219. [111] _Versus Serlonis_, in _H. F._, xix, p. xciv. [112] Ordericus, iv, p. 219; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54; _Annales de Saint-Aubin_, in Halphen, _Annales_, p. 44; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 471. [113] _Versus Serlonis_, in _H. F._, xix, pp. xci ff.; Ordericus, iv, p. 219; Wace. _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 471; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54. Wace’s account of the siege of Bayeux is elaborate, and credits the city with a long and stubborn resistance. But in the absence of all evidence to this effect in the other sources, and in the face of the positive testimony of the poet Serlo, an eyewitness, that the defence was weak and cowardly on the part of both garrison and inhabitants, Wace’s view cannot be accepted. [114] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219-220; Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 473-479; cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 462-463. Wace gives an elaborate account of the conspiracy, which is perhaps worth summarizing. Thierry, son of Ralph Fitz Ogier, and several other citizens of Caen had been ambushed and captured by Robert of Saint-Rémy-des-Landes at Cagny in the Hiémois while travelling home from Argences; Robert of Saint-Rémy had taken his prisoners to Torigny and sold them for a great price to Robert Fitz Hamon; who, in turn, surrendered them to the king, in exchange for the grant of Caen as a fief to be held by himself and his heirs forever. The king was delighted over the acquisition of these prisoners, “riches homes de Caan nez,” for he saw in them the possibility of gaining Caen without striking a blow. A convention was quickly agreed upon. Henry promised to free the prisoners and to enrich them with lands and goods; and they undertook to deliver Caen into his hands. And to seal the bargain, they gave hostages, “filz e nevoz de lor lignages.” Great precautions were taken to deceive “la gent menue”; Kar se la povre gent seust Que l’ovre aler issi deust, La li reis Caan nen eust, Que grant barate n’i eust, though many prominent burgesses were involved in the conspiracy, and treason was spreading far and wide throughout the city before the duke got wind of it. Then, with the king’s men from the Bessin close at hand, and desertion general among the citizens, Robert had no choice but to flee by the Porte Milet to the Hiémois, leaving his baggage behind to be ransacked at the gate. [115] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 478; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 463. [116] Ordericus, iv, pp. 219-220; cf. Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 476. [117] Ordericus, iv, p. 220; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475. The fact that the attack upon Falaise belongs to the campaign of 1105 is definitely established by a charter of donation by Roger to St. Peter’s, Gloucester: “Anno Domini millesimo centesimo quinto, Rogerus de Gloucestria miles, a pud Waleyson graviter vulneratus…” _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 69. [118] Ordericus, iv, pp. 220-221. [119] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105: “and almost all the castles and chief men there in the land became subject to him”; cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235. [120] Eadmer, p. 165. [121] “Rex enim ipse a Normannia digressus, quia earn totam eo quo supra diximus modo sibi subiugare nequierat, reversus in Angliam est, ut, copiosiori pecunia fretus rediens, quod residuum erat, exhaeredato fratre suo, subiiceret.” _Ibid._, p. 171; cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54. [122] Eadmer, p. 166. [123] Eadmer, pp. 165-166; cf. G. B. Adams, _History of England from the Norman Conquest to the Death of John_ (London, 1905), pp. 141-142. [124] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1105. [125] _Ibid._, _a._ 1105. [126] _Ibid._, _a._ 1106. [127] _Ibid._, _a._ 1106; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54. The place of the interview is further established by Henry’s letter to Anselm which ends: “Teste W. Cancell. apud Northamptonem.” _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne, clix, col. 240. [128] References as in n. 127, _supra_. [129] _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne, clix, col. 240. [130] _G. R._, ii, p. 463. [131] Cf. _supra_, pp. 155-156. [132] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 54; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235. Though Henry’s original intention had been to cross at Ascension (3 May) (_Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 77, in Migne, clix, col. 240), it is clear from the _Chronicle_ that he was still in England at Pentecost (13 May). The phrase ‘before August’ used by the sources would seem to point to a crossing in the latter part of July. [133] Ordericus, iv, pp. 215, 223-224; _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 42. The chronology of Ordericus is confused. Abbot Fulk, predecessor of the simoniac Robert, is said to have died at Winchester 3 April 1105. _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 155; Ordericus, iv, p. 19, and n. 2; p. 215, and n. 2. Henry’s destruction of the abbey must, therefore, be referred to 1106, since it would have been impossible for Abbot Robert to have gained possession of the monastery and to have erected a fortress in it while Henry was still in Normandy in the previous summer, the king having returned to England in August. This conclusion is confirmed by the Annals of Winchester: “MCVI. Hoc anno rex in Normanniam duxit exercitum, et veniens ad Sanctum Petrum super Divam, abbatiam redegit in pulverem, et centum homines et eo amplius interfecit.” [134] Cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283: “Rex autem Henricus, non diutius hoc ferens, maximeque indigne ferens, quod frater suus ita paternam hereditatem, ducatum scilicet Normanniae, dissipaverat, quod, preter civitatem Rothomagensem, nichil pene in dominio haberet; quam etiam forsitan alicui ut cetera dedisset, si hoc sibi licitum propter cives ipsius fuisset.” This is doubtless an exaggerated statement, but it is not without significance. [135] Eadmer, pp. 182-183; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55. [136] The Pope was clearly no longer supporting the crusader against the king. William of Malmesbury goes so far as to say that Pascal wrote to Henry urging him on to the fratricidal conflict. _G. R._, ii, p. 474. [137] The operations before Tinchebray, such as they are described, must have extended over a considerable period before the decisive battle, which was fought on or about 29 September. [138] Ordericus, iv, pp. 224-225. [139] _Ibid._, pp. 229-230; letter of a priest of Fécamp to a priest of Séez, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; Dom Morice, _Preuves_, i, col. 129; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 478. Henry of Huntingdon mentions the presence also of Angevins, but this is probably an error. [140] Ordericus, iv, p. 225; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235. [141] Ordericus, iv, p. 225. [142] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 463: “ad bellum publicum venit, ultimam fortunam experturus.” [143] Ordericus, iv, p. 225; cf. letter of Henry I to Anselm, in Eadmer, p. 184; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283. [144] Ordericus, iv, pp. 226-227. [145] Ordericus, iv, pp. 227-228. Henry did not fail to propitiate the Almighty. He released Reginald of Warenne from prison—to the great satisfaction of William of Warenne, his brother, who now became a more enthusiastic royal supporter than ever—and made a vow to rebuild the church which he had burned at Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. _Ibid._, p. 229. The Hyde _Chronicle_ is doubtless in error in stating that Reginald of Warenne was captured at Tinchebray and later released at the request of his brother. _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. [146] See Appendix F. [147] It is hardly worth while to discuss the numbers engaged in the battle, since mediaeval figures are not to be relied upon. Cf. _E. H. R._, xviii, pp. 625-629. The estimate of the priest of Fécamp (_E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296), placing the king’s forces at 40,000 and the duke’s at 6000, of which 700 were knights, is doubtless an exaggeration. It is good evidence, however, of the king’s numerical superiority, which is also indicated by Henry of Huntingdon (p. 235). Ordericus Vitalis grants that the duke was inferior to the king in knights, but asserts that he had more foot soldiers. [148] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Eadmer, p. 184; Ordericus, iv, pp. 226, 230; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235. [149] See Appendix F. [150] Ordericus, iv, p. 230. [151] The statement of J. D. Drummond that he held the foot soldiers in reserve in the distant rear behind the forces of Robert of Bellême (_Kriegsgeschichte Englands_, p. 40), is based upon pure conjecture. C. W. C. Oman (_Art of War_, p. 379), adopting the view of a line formation, asserts, equally without authority, that Robert Curthose held the centre between William of Mortain and Robert of Bellême. [152] “primam aciem rexit Rannulfus Baiocensis; secundam Rodbertus comes Mellentensis; tertiam vero Guillelmus de Guarenna.” Ordericus, iv, p. 229. It certainly is impossible to reconcile this statement completely with the letter of the priest of Fécamp, but perhaps the leadership of the first division may be accepted. [153] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “In prima acie fuerunt Baiocenses, Abrincatini, et Constantinienses, omnes pedites; in secunda vero rex cum innumeris baronibus suis, omnes similiter pedites. Ad hec septingenti equites utrique aciei ordinate”. Also Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235: “rex namque et dux, et acies caeterae pedites erant, ut constantius pugnarent.” [154] Ordericus, iv, p. 229. [155] _Ibid._, pp. 229-230: “Cenomannos autem et Britones longe in campo cum Helia consule constituit”; letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “preterea comes Cenomannis et comes Britonum Alanus Fregandus circumcingentes exercitum, usque ad mille equites, remotis omnibus gildonibus et servis”; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235. [156] Ordericus, iv, p. 230. But cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235: “dux Normanniae cum paucis multos audacissime aggressus est, assuetusque bellis Ierosolimitanis aciem regalem fortiter et horrende reppulit. Willelmus quoque consul de Moretuil aciem Anglorum de loco in locum turbans promovit.” This statement would seem to give some color to Oman’s view of a line formation, but it is not convincing in the face of other evidence. Cf. Appendix F. [157] Ordericus, iv, p. 230; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 235; cf. Dom Morice, _Preuves_, i, col. 129. [158] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 235-236; Ordericus, iv, p. 230; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. [159] Ordericus, iv, p. 230; cf. _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236; Eadmer, p. 184; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 463; the same, _G. P._, p. 116; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. On Waldric the Chancellor see H. W. C. Davis, in _E. H. R._, xxvi, pp. 84-89. [160] Ordericus, iv, pp. 230-231; _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236; Eadmer, p. 184; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 55; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 283; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. [161] Ordericus, iv, p. 231. [162] _Ibid._, p. 230; Eadmer, p. 184. Robert of Torigny places the number of slain among the duke’s forces at “vix sexaginta.” _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284. [163] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296; cf. Eadmer, p. 184; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 307. [164] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “iii kal. Octobris hora tertia.” The date usually given by modern writers is 28 September. Le Prévost, in Ordericus, iv, 228, n. 2; Davis, _Normans and Angevins_, p. 129; Adams, _History of England from the Norman Conquest to the Death of John_, p. 145; Le Hardy, p. 164; Fliche, _Philippe Iᵉʳ_, p. 311. It is based upon the authority of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1106), which is copied by Florence of Worcester (ii, p. 55), and upon the _Chronicon Breve Fontanellense_ (_H. F._, xii, p. 771). But, in view of the explicit statement of the priest of Fécamp, 29 September is probably the correct date. William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, p. 475) confusingly dates the battle “sabbato in Sancti Michaelis vigilia.” Michaelmas in 1106 fell upon Saturday. A further variation is introduced by Robert of Torigny, who dates the battle 27 September. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_ in William of Jumièges, p. 284. [165] _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296. CHAPTER VII LAST YEARS AND DEATH Soon after the battle of Tinchebray Henry I wrote exultingly to Anselm, announcing the great victory and boasting that he had captured four hundred knights and ten thousand foot soldiers, and that the number of slain was legion.[1] It was a pardonable exaggeration, for indeed the battle had ended all resistance and decided the fate of Normandy. The duke seems to have had no thought of a continuance of the struggle, and meekly submitted to his conqueror. Henry hastened to the great stronghold of Falaise, which had successfully defied him the year before, and at the duke’s own command it was promptly surrendered into his hands.[2] Then he pressed on with his captive to Rouen, where he received a cordial welcome from the burgesses, to whom he restored the laws of the Conqueror and all the honors which their city had previously enjoyed.[3] And, again at the duke’s command, Hugh de Nonant handed over the citadel to the king. The duke, too, formally absolved the fortified towns (_municipia_) throughout all Normandy from their allegiance, and their defenders hastened to make peace with the victor.[4] Even the king’s most bitter enemies sought a reconciliation. Ranulf Flambard, the exiled bishop of Durham, who had caused such a scandal in the see of Lisieux, and who was still residing there as lord of the city (_princeps in urbe_), humbly sent to seek peace, and, upon surrendering Lisieux, was restored to his bishopric of Durham.[5] The terrible Robert of Bellême still boasted the possession of thirty-four strong castles, and for a moment he seems to have contemplated further resistance. But an appeal for aid to Helias of La Flèche met with no encouragement; and at the advice and through the mediation of the latter, he chose the prudent course of making peace with Henry upon the best terms possible. By the surrender of all the ducal domain which he had occupied illegally, he managed to obtain Argentan and the _vicomté_ of Falaise, together with certain other possessions which had formerly been held by his father, Roger of Montgomery.[6] But these temporary concessions to Robert of Bellême were almost the only ones which the king felt it necessary to make. For, while he favored the clergy and gave peace and protection to the humble and unarmed population, he made it his first business to curb the restless baronage. He ordered the destruction of adulterine castles throughout the duchy.[7] Summoning a council of magnates at Lisieux in the middle of October, he proclaimed a royal peace, asserted his title to all the ducal domain which Robert Curthose through extravagance or weakness had let slip from his hands, and guaranteed to the churches and other legitimate holders all the possessions which they had lawfully enjoyed at the time of the Conqueror’s death.[8] Such measures brought despair to outlaws and evil men, but they inaugurated a new era of vigorous and orderly government which was welcomed with the utmost gratitude by all peace-loving subjects, especially by the clergy.[9] Anselm wrote to the king, saluting him as ‘duke,’ to congratulate him upon his splendid victory, and to thank him for the promise of good and considerate government.[10] Henry remained in Normandy during the autumn and winter to complete the organization of the new régime. In January 1107 he called the nobles together at Falaise, and in March he held another council at Lisieux, and promulgated many important decrees for the administration of the duchy.[11] And then, in Lent, “when he had either destroyed his enemies or subdued them, and had disposed of Normandy according to his will,”[12] he returned to England, and held his Easter court at Windsor.[13] And there “both Norman and English barons were present with fear and trembling.”[14] Apparently the king had sent his prisoners, including the duke, on before him to England, lest the turbulent Normans, under the guise of aiding Robert Curthose, should break the peace.[15] And once he had them safely across the Channel he took good care that they should never escape him. William of Mortain, at least, was placed in close confinement for the rest of his life; and, if Henry of Huntingdon can be trusted, he was blinded.[16] Robert Curthose, it seems, was kept in free custody and provided with certain comforts and even luxuries;[17] but his confinement was not made less secure for that. According to the Annals of Winchester, he was first imprisoned at Wareham;[18] but he was afterwards given into the custody of the great Bishop Roger of Salisbury, who kept him in his magnificent castle at Devizes.[19] In 1107 King Henry’s triumph seemed complete. He was now master both in England and in Normandy as he had never been before.[20] His conquest of the duchy had been willingly accepted by both clergy and people. And even Louis, the king designate of France—contrary, it may be observed, to his father Philip’s advice—had officially ratified his action.[21] Yet Henry’s troubles in Normandy had hardly begun, and the following years were a period of almost incessant warfare for the maintenance of his conquest. Hostility between him and his continental neighbors was, indeed, inevitable. With the accession Louis VI (le Gros) to the throne of France in 1108, the Capetians entered upon an era of royal ascendancy which necessarily made them look with jealous eyes upon their great feudatories, particularly the dukes of Normandy. The union of England and Normandy brought an increase of strength and of ambition to Henry I which rendered him dangerous not only to his overlord, the king of France, but also to his neighbors on the north and south in Flanders and Anjou; while in Normandy itself, the turbulent baronage soon grew restive under the stern rule of the ‘Lion of Justice,’ and were ever ready to ally themselves with anyone who would make common cause with them against him. And, unfortunately for Henry, he had made one fatal mistake in his settlement of Normandy after Tinchebray, which left a standing temptation in the way of the disaffected Norman baronage and of his jealous neighbors beyond the frontier. The son of Robert Curthose, William surnamed the Clito, had fallen into the king’s hands at the surrender of Falaise in 1106,[22] and it would have been possible for Henry to have made away with him or to have placed him in permanent confinement, just as he had imprisoned the duke. But William Clito was still a child of tender years, and Henry feared public sentiment. Rather than bear the responsibility if any evil should befall the lad while in his hands, he placed him in ward with Helias of Saint-Saëns, Duke Robert’s son-in-law, to be brought up and educated.[23] Henry soon repented of this indiscretion, however, and, at the advice of certain of his counsellors, he gave orders for the Clito to be taken into custody. But before Robert de Beauchamp, the _vicomte_ of Arques, who was charged with the execution of the king’s command, could carry out his mission, friends of the child learned of the impending stroke, and carried him away sleeping from his bed and hid him; and soon after the stanch Helias of Saint-Saëns fled with him into exile.[24] Abandoning all that they had in Normandy,[25] Helias and the Clito’s tutor, Tirel de Mainières, devoted their lives to their charge,[26] finding a refuge now here, now there, among King Henry’s enemies in France and Flanders and Anjou.[27] It would lead us too far afield to trace in detail the tragic career of William Clito. But its salient features may, at least, be indicated; for he was the last hope of the lost cause of Robert Curthose. The Clito rapidly grew to be a youth of uncommon attractions—“mult fu amez de chevaliers”[28]—and his pathetic story made an irresistible appeal to the discontented and ambitious, both in Normandy and beyond the frontiers.[29] Robert of Bellême, until he was captured in 1112 and sent to end his days in an English prison,[30] made himself in a special way the patron and supporter of the Clito;[31] and the cause of the injured exile, mere child that he was, undoubtedly lay back of much of the desultory warfare in which King Henry was involved in Normandy and on the French frontier between 1109 and 1113. Count Robert of Flanders lost his life fighting in Normandy in 1111,[32] and his successor, Baldwin VII, gave an asylum to the Clito and conferred on him the arms of knighthood in his fourteenth year.[33] It was between the years 1117 and 1120, however, that the opponents of King Henry’s continental ambitions first organized themselves in support of William Clito upon a formidable scale. Louis VI had repented of his earlier friendship for Henry I,[34] and in 1117 he entered into a sworn alliance with Baldwin of Flanders and Fulk of Anjou to overthrow the English rule in Normandy and place the Clito on the ducal throne.[35] Simultaneously, a widespread revolt broke out among the Norman baronage, and for three years Henry was involved in a formidable war, which he conducted with characteristic vigor and success.[36] The death of Count Baldwin eliminated Flanders from the contest.[37] Henry succeeded in making peace and forming an alliance with Fulk of Anjou in June 1119.[38] And in the decisive battle of Brémule in the same year, the English overwhelmed the French, and Louis VI fled from the field.[39] But from arms the French king turned to diplomacy. He appeared with the Clito before the council of Rheims (October 1119), and laid the cause of Robert Curthose and of his exiled son before the assembled prelates with such telling effect[40] that Pope Calixtus set out for Normandy to deal in person with the English king. But Henry showed himself as apt at diplomacy as he had been successful in arms. Meeting the Pope at Gisors (November 1119), he welcomed him with the utmost courtesy and with an extraordinary show of humility.[41] He provided elaborately for his entertainment.[42] And when Calixtus arraigned him for his unjust conduct, and, in the name of the council, called upon him to release Robert Curthose from prison and to restore him and the Clito to the duchy,[43] Henry replied in an elaborate speech, placing the whole responsibility upon the duke. He declared that he had been obliged to conquer Normandy in order to rescue it from anarchy, and that he had offered to confer three English counties upon the Clito and to bring him up in all honor at his court.[44] Strange to say, the Pope professed himself entirely convinced by Henry’s assertions and declared that “nothing could be more just than the king of England’s cause.” But William of Malmesbury explains that the royal arguments were “well seasoned with rich gifts.”[45] Henry had won the Pope, and through the latter’s mediation a peace was soon arranged with Louis VI upon the basis of mutual restitutions; and William Atheling, Henry’s son, did homage to the king of France for Normandy (1120).[46] The Norman rebels, too, seeing that their cause was hopeless, hastily made peace with Henry, and at his command did homage and swore fealty to the Atheling.[47] William Clito was deserted on almost every hand, and his cause did indeed seem hopeless. If we can trust the chronicle of Hyde monastery, he sent messengers to King Henry and humbly besought him to release his father from captivity, and promised, if his request were granted, to depart with him for Jerusalem, abandoning Normandy to the king and his heirs forever, and never again to appear this side the Julian Alps.[48] King Henry, we are told, treated these overtures with arrogant contempt, as well he might in view of his victory over all his enemies. Yet before the end of the year the loss of the Atheling on the _White Ship_ put all his well laid plans awry, and left William Clito, his bitter enemy, as the most direct heir of all his dominions both in Normandy and England.[49] Soon his old enemies began to rally to the Clito’s cause; and he was again confronted with a formidable revolt of the Norman baronage (1123-25), which had at least the tacit support of the king of France.[50] Fulk of Anjou, in league with the rebels, abandoned the English alliance and conferred the county of Maine, together with the hand of his younger daughter Sibyl, upon the Clito.[51] Though Henry succeeded in having this marriage annulled by papal decree in 1124 upon the ground of consanguinity,[52] Louis VI continued to support the Clito. At his Christmas court in 1126 he called upon the assembled barons to assist the young prince.[53] Shortly thereafter he gave him the half-sister of his own queen in marriage and conferred upon him Pontoise, Chaumont, Mantes, and the whole of the Vexin. Before Lent 1127 the Clito appeared at Gisors at the head of an armed force, and laid claim to Normandy.[54] And soon afterwards the foul murder of Count Charles the Good opened the question of the Flemish succession, and gave the king of France, as overlord of the county, an opportunity to raise his protégé to the throne of Flanders, although the king of England was himself a candidate for the honor.[55] The fortunes of the Clito were now decidedly in the ascendant, and it behooved Henry I to bestir himself to check his progress. He crossed the Channel and began active military operations against the Franco-Flemish alliance.[56] He sent his agents into Flanders to distribute bribes and build up a combination against the new count. He freely subsidized the rival claimants to the county.[57] But Henry’s problem was soon solved for him by a civil war in which, so far as we know, he had no part or influence. William Clito had allied himself with the feudal aristocracy of Flanders, but he had failed to comprehend the spirit of the progressive bourgeoisie, to whom his predecessor, Charles the Good, had made important concessions.[58] Increasing friction with the burgesses soon led to an insurrection, and the Clito was wounded at the siege of Alost, late in July 1128, and died soon after.[59] That night, Robert Curthose, we are told, lying in his distant English prison, dreamed that he had himself been wounded in the right arm; and waking, “Alas!” he said, with telepathic vision, “my son is dead.”[60] It was, indeed, the end of all hope for the captive duke; and thereafter Henry I ruled in peace in Normandy as well as England. Of the vicissitudes of Robert Curthose during the long years of his imprisonment we know almost nothing. A curious notice in the chronicle of Monte Cassino for the year 1117 styles him ‘king of the English,’ and avers that his ‘legates’ had visited the monastery, and, presenting the monks with a precious golden chalice, had besought their prayers for himself and his realm.[61] In 1126, upon his return from Normandy, Henry I transferred the duke from the custody of Bishop Roger of Salisbury to that of Earl Robert of Gloucester, who placed him in confinement at first in his great stronghold at Bristol.[62] But later he moved him to Cardiff castle in his Welsh lordship of Glamorgan;[63] and there, in this wild frontier stronghold, in full view of the ‘Severn Sea’ Robert Curthose ended his days. If we can rely upon our evidence, he took advantage of his long imprisonment to master the Welsh language, and amused himself with verse-making. And he appears to have left behind him a poem of no mean order. It was extracted by the Welsh bard, Edward Williams,[64] “from a MS. of Mr. Thomas Truman, of Pant Lliwydd (Dyer’s valley), near Cowbridge, Glamorgan, containing, in the Welsh language, ‘An Account of the Lords Marchers of Glamorgan from Robert Fitz Hamon down to Jasper, Duke of Bedford,’ and written about the year 1500,”[65] and was published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ in 1794, from which it seems worth while to quote it in full, together with the attribution of authorship: Pan oedd Rhobert Tywysog Norddmanti yngharchar Ynghastell Caerdyf, gan Robert ap Amon, medru a wnaeth ar y iaith Gymraeg; ac o weled y Beirdd Cymreig yno ar y Gwyliau efe a’u ceris, ac a aeth yn Fardd; a llyma englynion a gant efe. Dar a dyfwys ar y clawdd, Gwedi, gwaedffrau gwedi ffrawdd; Gwae! wrth win ymtrin ymtrawdd. Dar a dyfwys ar y glâs, Gwedi gwaedffrau gwyr a lâs; Gwae! wr wrth y bo ai câs. Dar a dyfwys ar y tonn, Gwedi gwaedffrau a briw bronn; Gwae! a gar gwydd amryson. Dar a dyfwys ym meillion, A chan a’i briw ni bi gronn; Gwae! wr wrth ei gaseion. Dar a dyfwys ar dir pen Gallt, ger ymdonn Mor Hafren Gwae! wr na bai digon hên. Dar a dyfwys yngwynnau, A thwrf a thrin a thrangau; Gwae! a wyl na bo Angau. _Rhobert Tywysog Norddmanti ai Cant._ In English thus: When Robert, duke of Normandy, was held a prisoner in Cardiff castle by Robert Fitz Hamon, he acquired a knowledge of the Welsh language; and, seeing the Welsh bards there on the high festivals, he became a bard; and was the author of the following stanzas: Oak that hast grown up on the mound, Since the blood-streaming, since the slaughter; Woe! to the war of words at the wine. Oak that hast grown up in the grass, Since the blood-streaming of those that were slain; Woe! to man when there are that hate him. Oak that hast grown up on the green, Since the streaming of blood and the rending of breasts, Woe! to him that loves the presence of contention. Oak that hast grown up amid the trefoil grass, And, because of those that tore thee, hast not attained to rotundity; Woe! to him that is in the power of his enemies. Oak that hast grown up on the grounds Of the woody promontory fronting the contending waves of the Severn sea;[66] Woe! to him that is not old enough [to die]. Oak that hast grown up in the storms, Amid dins, battles, and death; Woe! to him that beholds what is not death. _The Author Robert Duke of Normandy._[67] Whether these lines be actually by Robert Curthose or not, they are in their tragic pathos no inapt epitome of his misdirected career, which had begun with such bright promise and ended in such signal disaster. ‘Woe to him that is in the power of his enemies,’ ‘woe to him that is not old enough to die’—often must these sentiments have haunted him during the long years of his captivity. But his melancholy longings at last found satisfaction. Early in February 1134 he died at Cardiff,[68] a venerable octogenarian, and was buried before the high altar in the abbey church of St. Peter at Gloucester.[69] Henry I piously made a donation to the abbey, in order that a light might be kept burning perpetually before the great altar for the good of the soul of the brother whom he had so deeply injured.[70] FOOTNOTES [1] Eadmer, p. 184. The letter was written from Elbeuf-sur-Andelle near Rouen, according to H. W. C. Davis before 15 October. _E. H. R._, xxiv, p. 729, n. 4. [2] Ordericus, iv, pp. 231-232. [3] “Rex siquidem cum duce Rotomagum adiit, et a civibus favorabiliter exceptus, paternas leges renovavit, pristinasque urbis dignitates restituit.” _Ibid._, p. 233. [4] _Ibid._ [5] _Ibid._, p. 273. [6] Ordericus, iv, pp. 234-236. [7] _Ibid._, pp. 236-237. [8] _Ibid._, pp. 233-234. [9] Letter of the priest of Fécamp, in _E. H. R._, xxv, p. 296: “Et nunc pax in terra reddita est, Deo gratias”; Ordericus, iv, p. 232; cf. William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 476; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284. [10] _Epistolae Anselmi_, bk. iv, no. 82, in Migne, clix, cols. 242-243. [11] Ordericus, iv, p. 269; cf. _A-S. C._, _a._ 1107. [12] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1107; Eadmer, p. 184; Ordericus, iv, p. 274. [13] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1107; Eadmer, p. 184. On Henry’s itinerary in Normandy, cf. Haskins, pp. 309-310; W. Farrer, in _E. H. R._, xxxiv, pp. 340-341. [14] Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236. [15] Ordericus, iv, pp. 232, 237; but cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284, where it is stated that the king took the prisoners to England with him upon his return. Cf. also _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1106. [16] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 236, 255; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475; Ordericus, iv, p. 234. [17] _Ibid._, p. 237: “Fratrem vero suum … xxvii annis in carcere servavit, et omnibus deliciis abundanter pavit”; _ibid._, p. 402: “Fratrem vero meum non, ut captivum hostem, vinculis mancipavi, sed ut nobilem peregrinum, multis angoribus fractum, in arce regia collocavi, eique omnem abundantiam ciborum et aliarum deliciarum, variamque suppellectilem affluenter suppeditavi”; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 284. Two entries in the Pipe Roll of 31 Henry I record the king’s expenditures for Robert’s entertainment: “Et in lib_er_at_ione_ Archiep_iscop_i Rothomag_ensis_, et in pannis Com_itis_ Norman_norum_ .xxiij. li_bras_ et .x. s_olidos_ nu_mer_o”; “Et in Soltis, p_er_ br_eve_ R_egis_ Fulcher_o_ fil_io_ Walt_her_i .xij. li_bras_ p_ro_ estruct_ura_ Com_itis_ Norman_norum_.” _Magnus Rotulus Pipae de Anno Tricesimo-Primo Regni Henrici Primi_, ed. Joseph Hunter for the Record Commission (London, 1833), pp. 144, 148; cf. Le Prévost, in Ordericus, iv, 402, n. 2. In later years an ugly rumor was current to the effect that Henry had Robert blinded; but it rests upon no contemporary or early authority. Cf. _infra_, pp. 200-201. [18] _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 42. These annals also state that William of Mortain was imprisoned in the Tower of London. [19] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1126. [20] Cf. Henry of Huntingdon, p. 236. [21] _La Chronique de Morigny_, ed. Léon Mirot (Paris, 1909), p. 21: “Ludovicus, rex designatus et adhuc adolescens, quorumdam suorum collateralium consilio deceptus, ut talia gererentur assensit, patre, sapiente viro, sibi contradicente, et malum, quod postea accidit, spiritu presago sibi predicente”; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 47: “fretusque domini regis Francorum auxilio”; William of Malmesbury (_G. R._, ii, p. 480) explains that Louis’s favor was gained “Anglorum spoliis et multo regis obryzo.” [22] Ordericus, iv, p. 232. William Clito was born in 1101 at Rouen and was baptized by Archbishop William Bonne-Ame, after whom he was named. _Ibid._, pp. 78, 98. Cf. _supra_, p. 146. [23] Ordericus, iv, p. 232. [24] _Ibid._, pp. 292-293, 473; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308. [25] Ordericus, iv, pp. 292-293. [26] _Ibid._, pp. 464, 477, 482; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308. [27] Cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 294. [28] Wace, _Roman de Rou_, ii, p. 439. [29] Ordericus, iv, pp. 293-294, 465, 472-473; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308. [30] Ordericus, iv, pp. 305, 376-377; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 475; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 238; _A. S.-C._, _a._ 1112. [31] Ordericus, iv, pp. 293-294. [32] _Ibid._, p. 290. [33] Hermann of Tournay, _Liber de Restauratione S. Martini Tornacensis_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, xiv, p. 284; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 294. [34] _Supra_, pp. 122, 180. [35] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 239-240; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 308; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, pp. 85-86; Ordericus, iv, pp. 315 ff.; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 479. [36] Ordericus, iv, _passim_. [37] Ordericus, iv, pp. 291, 316; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 479; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 90; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1118, 1119; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 240, 242. [38] Ordericus, iv, p. 347; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 91; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1119. [39] Ordericus, iv, pp. 354-363; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, p. 92; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1119; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 241-242. William Clito fought among the French forces and lost his palfrey, but it was returned to him next day by his cousin William Atheling as an act of courtesy. [40] Ordericus, iv, pp. 376-378 (probably Ordericus was himself present at the council and heard the king’s speech—_ibid._, p. 372, n. 2); _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, p. 310. The archbishop of Rouen arose to reply, but was howled down and refused a hearing. [41] Ordericus, iv, pp. 398-399. The purpose of the Pope in going to Gisors was not merely to support the interests of the Clito but to bring about a settlement of all the difficulties between the kings of France and England, and reëstablish peace. The Pope also endeavored, though without success, to induce King Henry to make some concession in the ecclesiastical controversy concerning the profession of obedience by the archbishop of York to the archbishop of Canterbury. _The Historians of the Church of York and its Archbishops_, ed. James Raine (London, 1879-94), ii, pp. 167-172, 376-377. [42] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 482. [43] “Synodus ergo fidelium generaliter decernit, et a sublimitate tua, magne rex, humiliter deposcit ut Rodbertum, fratrem tuum, quem in vinculis iamdiu tenuisti, absolvas, eique et filio eius ducatum Normanniae, quem abstulisti, restituas.” Ordericus, iv, p. 399. [44] _Ibid._, pp. 399-403. [45] _G. R._, ii, p. 482. [46] Achille Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros: annoles de sa vie et de son règne_ (Paris, 1890), p. 139, and the references there given. [47] Ordericus, iv, p. 398; _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, pp. 319-320. [48] _Ibid._, pp. 320-321. [49] “Solus regius esset haeres.” Henry of Huntingdon, p. 305 (_Epistola de Contemptu Mundi_); cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 438; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 497-498. [50] Ordericus, iv, pp. 438-462; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 294-296; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 245; cf. Davis, _Normans and Angevins_, p. 150. [51] “All this hostility was on account of the son of Count Robert of Normandy named William. The same William had taken to wife the younger daughter of Fulk, count of Anjou; and therefore the king of France and all these counts and all the powerful men held with him, and said that the king with wrong held his brother Robert in durance and unjustly drove his son William out of Normandy.” _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1124; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 440; William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 498. [52] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, pp. 527-528; _Bullaire du pape Calixte II_, ed. Ulysse Robert (Paris, 1891), ii, no. 507; Ordericus, iv, pp. 294-295, 464; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1127. The pair were separated by eleven degrees of kinship, the Clito being descended in the fifth and Sibyl in the sixth generation from Richard the Fearless, third duke of Normandy. The pedigree is given by Ordericus, _loc. cit._ The king resorted to high-handed bribery in order to bring about the divorce. Cf. Le Prévost, in Ordericus, iv, p. 295, n. 1. [53] Ordericus, iv, p. 472. [54] _Ibid._, p. 474. [55] _Ibid._, pp. 474-477; Suger, _Vie de Louis le Gros_, pp. 110-112; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1127; Galbert of Bruges, _Histoire du meurtre de Charles le Bon, comte de Flandre_, ed. Henri Pirenne (Paris, 1891), _passim_, cf. Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros_, pp. 175-176, and the references there given. [56] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1128; Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 247-248; letter of William Clito to Louis VI, in _H. F._, xv, p. 341. On the date of this letter (March 1128) see Luchaire, _Louis VI le Gros_, p. 188. [57] _Ibid._; Walter of Thérouanne, _Vita Karoli Comitis Flandriae_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, xii, p. 557; Galbert of Bruges, pp. 144-147; Ordericus, iv, pp. 480-484; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 249. [58] Pirenne, _Histoire de Belgique_, i, pp. 183-185. For a full discussion of the relations between the Clito and the Flemish burghers see Arthur Giry, _Histoire de la ville de Saint-Omer et de ses institutions jusqu’au XIVᵉ siècle_ (Paris, 1877), pp. 45 ff. [59] Ordericus, iv, pp. 481-482; _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1128; Florence of Worcester, ii, pp. 90-91; Galbert of Bruges, pp. 170-171, and n. 2, where the chronological problem is fully discussed. [60] Ordericus, iv, p. 486. [61] “His porro diebus Robbertus rex Anglorum legatos ad hoc monasterium direxit, petens ut pro se atque pro statu regni sui Domini clementiam exorarent, calicemque aureum quantitatis non modicae beato Benedicto per eos dirigere studuit.” Petrus Diaconus, _Chronica Monasterii Casinensis_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, vii, p. 791. This may very possibly be a scribal error, and the reference may really be to Henry I. [62] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1126: “In this same year the king caused his brother Robert to be taken from the bishop Roger of Salisbury, and committed him to his son Robert, earl of Gloucester, and had him conducted to Bristol, and there put into the castle. That was all done through his daughter’s counsel, and through her uncle, David, the Scots’ king”; cf. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 292. [63] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, pp. 18, 42; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 95; _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15. [64] Known as Iolo Morganwg (1746-1826). [65] The manuscript referred to is apparently no longer extant, the Truman Collection having been scattered early in the nineteenth century, and almost every trace of it having now disappeared. We are therefore solely indebted to Edward Williams for the preservation of this poem and its brief introduction, which together constitute the only evidence that Robert became acquainted with the Welsh language and wrote verses. The poem has been several times printed, but all texts of it derive from a single source, viz., Williams’s transcript of the Pantlliwyd manuscript. According to Mr. John Ballinger, librarian of the National Library of Wales, to whom I am indebted for the foregoing information, Williams’s statements as to the sources from which he made his copies are usually accurate, but his deductions are often uncritical and faulty. [66] “The Severn sea, or Bristol channel, and the woody promontory of Penarth, are in full view of Cardiff castle, at the distance, in a direct line, of no more than two miles. There are on this promontory the vestiges of an old camp (Roman, I believe), on one of the banks or mounds of which, these verses suppose the apostrophized oak to be growing.” Williams, in _Gentleman’s Magazine_, lxiv (1794), 2, p. 982. [67] _Ibid._, p. 981. [68] Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, pp. 18, 42; Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 95; _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15. Robert of Torigny is in error in stating that he died at Bristol. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 292. The date of Robert’s death is probably 3 February, as stated by the local Gloucester annals, though Robert of Torigny places it on 10 February. [69] _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, p. 15: “in ecclesia Sancti Petri Gloucestriae honorifice coram principali altari sepelitur”; Ordericus, iv, p. 486; v, p. 18; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 292. The well known effigy of Robert Curthose in wood with which his tomb was later adorned is still preserved in Gloucester cathedral—the abbey church having become the cathedral upon the institution of the bishopric in 1541. It is no longer in its original position, but is in the northeast chapel, called Abbot Boteler’s chapel, off the ambulatory. It was broken into several pieces during the civil wars of Charles I, but was repaired and restored to the cathedral through the generosity of Sir Humphrey Tracey of Stanway. It was evidently still in its original position when Leland saw it in the sixteenth century. He says: “Robᵗᵘˢ. Curthoise, sonne to K. William the Conquerour, lyeth in the midle of the Presbitery. There is on his Tombe an Image of Wood paynted, made longe since his Death.” _The Itinerary of John Leland the Antiquary_, ed. Thomas Hearne, 3d ed. (Oxford, 1769), iv, p. 80. According to W. V. Guise the effigy is of “a date not very remote from the period at which the duke lived.” He bases his opinion upon the fact that the hauberk of chain-mail and the long surcote, as represented in the effigy, ceased to be worn after the thirteenth century. _Records of Gloucester Cathedral_, ed. William Bazeley (Gloucester, n. d.), i, 1, p. 101. Nothing appears to be known as to who provided for the effigy or as to the circumstances under which it was wrought. See H. J. L. J. Massé, _The Cathedral Church of Gloucester: a Description of its Fabric and a brief History of the Episcopal See_ (London, 1910), pp. 85-86. [70] “Rex Henricus senior dedit Deo et Sancto Petro Gloucestriae manerium suum de Rodele cum bosco et piscaria ibidem, ad inveniendum lumen ante altare magnum ibidem iugiter arsurum pro anima Roberti Curthose germani sui ibidem sepulti tempore Willelmi abbatis.” _Hist. et Cart. S. Petri Gloucestriae_, i, pp. 110-111. “Willelmi” is probably a scribal error for Walteri. CHAPTER VIII ROBERT CURTHOSE IN LEGEND[1] Though Robert’s life had been filled with failures and had ended in a signal disaster, his memory by no means perished with him. As a leader in the Holy War he had earned an enviable fame, which was early enhanced by legend; and if modern writers have been guilty of some exaggeration in their estimates of his merit as a crusader,[2] they have merely perpetuated unconsciously a tradition which was already well established in the literature of the later Middle Ages. William of Malmesbury, writing as early as 1125, declared that Robert gave proof of his valor on the Crusade by many wonderful feats of arms, for “neither Christian nor pagan could ever unhorse him,” and he goes on to add details about his exploits at Antioch and the honor of the kingship which was offered him at Jerusalem.[3] The more extended account of Wace is equally flattering: Robert Ierusalem requist, Bel se contint, maint bien i fist; A Antioche prendre fu, D’armes i a grant pries eu. Pois fu a Ierusalem prendre, Ne s’i porent paiens deffendre. De l’estandart qu’il abati, Ou Corberan se combati, E des paiens que il ocist E de l’enseigne qu’il conquist, Qu’il pois a l’iglise dona Que sa mere a Chaem funda, Out il grant pries e grant enor, E mult en parlerent plusor.[4] And by Geoffrey Gaimar, writing about the middle of the twelfth century, he is pictured as the supreme leader of the First Crusade, disposing of the cities and lands of the conquered territory according to his pleasure: Suz ciel nen out meillor baron. Celui fu duc de Normendie, Sur Normans out la seignurie. Maint bonte e maint barnage E maint estrange vasselage Fist i cest duc de Normendie, E mainte bele chevalerie. Co fu cil ki mult bien fist, Ierusalem sur paens prist, Il conquist la bone cite, Des crestiens fust alose. Pur Curbarant kil out oscis Entrat li duc si halt pris, Ka rei le voleient eslire; Esguarde ont kil seit lur sire A Antioche la cite, La fust tenu pur avoue. Il la conquist com ber vaillant; Puis la donat a Normant; E les altres bones citez, Si com li ducs ad divisez, Furent parties e donees, E les pais e les contrees. Duc Godefrai, par son otrei, Fust feit en Ierusalem rei; Pur co kil ni volt remaneir, Lui lessat; si en fist son air.[5] The foregoing illustrations, written during the duke’s lifetime or within a generation after his death, offer a convincing demonstration of the extraordinary rapidity with which legend set to work to rehabilitate the memory of the vanquished of Tinchebray; and it will not be without interest to make at least a cursory examination of these unhistorical traditions, in so far as they reflect the duke’s reputation among the writers of the later Middle Ages. Gaston Paris has not hesitated to affirm that Robert, as a crusader, became the hero of a whole poetic cycle which has since been lost, though not without leaving traces in the literature of after times.[6] Stated in this sweeping form, the pronouncement of this distinguished scholar is perhaps an unwarrantable exaggeration; at any rate, in the present state of the evidence it can hardly be regarded as more than a bold hypothesis.[7] But if there was not, properly speaking, a Norman cycle of the Crusade of which Robert was the hero, there certainly were numerous legends which it seems worth while to bring together in such order as is possible in the arrangement of matter so scattered and fragmentary. William of Malmesbury has sounded the keynote of Robert’s later fame as a crusader:[8] it was his personal prowess on the field of battle which most impressed itself upon the imagination of later generations. With one exception of minor importance,[9] later writers tell us little or nothing of a legendary character respecting the position and achievements of Robert at the siege of Nicaea; but his imaginary exploits in the battle of Dorylaeum (1 July 1097) begin to meet us in accounts which are almost contemporary. Robert the Monk, writing before 1107, pictures him as the saviour of the day. The Franks were all but overwhelmed and had turned in flight, and the contest would surely have ended in disaster for them, had not the count of Normandy quickly turned his charger and checked the rout by waving aloft his golden banner and calling out the inspiring battle cry, _Deus vult! Deus vult!_[10] In the _Gesta Tancredi_ of Ralph of Caen, written but a few years later, Robert appears as a hero whose valor surpassed even that of the great Bohemond; for in the crisis of the battle, remembering who he was and the royal blood which flowed in his veins, he turned upon his fleeing comrades and shouted: “O Bohemond! why do you fly? Apulia and Otranto and the confines of the Latin world are far away. Let us stand fast. Either the victor’s crown or a glorious death awaits us: glory will there be in either fate, but it will be the greater glory which makes us sooner martyrs. Therefore, strike, O youths, and let us fall upon them and die if need be!”[11] And with that the flight was halted. Henry of Huntingdon puts a similar speech into the mouth of Robert, and gives an even more wonderful account of his exploits in the battle. In Henry’s story, when Robert had finished speaking, he charged upon a paynim king and with one mighty thrust of his lance pierced his shield, armor, and body; then he felled a second and a third of the infidels.[12] And from Henry of Huntingdon the account of Robert’s prowess on the field of Dorylaeum was handed on with slight modification from writer to writer throughout the mediaeval period.[13] The further legendary exploits of Robert Curthose are in the main connected with the great battles at Antioch by which the Christians drove off the successive relief forces which the Moslems sent against them, first the army of Ridwan of Aleppo (9 February 1098) and then the host of Kerboga of Mosul (28 June 1098). Actually Robert seems to have taken no part in the earlier battle;[14] but in the account of the admiring Henry of Huntingdon, we find him leading the first division in the action, and, with a single blow of his mighty sword, splitting head, teeth, neck, and even the shoulders (_usque in pectora_) of a pagan warrior.[15] And while this feat of arms, like the exploits at Dorylaeum, appears to be unknown to the poems of the Godfrey cycle, it was taken up and passed on by English and Norman writers to the close of the Middle Ages.[16] Indeed, new and grotesque exaggerations were added to it. Presently we learn that Robert not only split the paynim’s head and a portion of his body, but his shield and his helmet also; that he slew him even as one slaughters a sheep; and that as the body fell to earth the victor cried aloud commending its blood-stained soul to all the minions of Tartarus![17] One would have thought this sufficient, surely, but another version tells us that Godfrey came to Robert’s assistance, and with a second blow cleft the unfortunate pagan in twain, so that one half of his body fell to the ground while his charger bore the other in among the infidels![18] It was however in the later battle with Kerboga that, according to the legends, Robert performed his greatest feat of arms. The trustworthy accounts tells us merely that he led the third division in action.[19] But William of Malmesbury has represented him as attacking the great Kerboga himself, while the latter was rallying the Moslem forces, and slaying him.[20] And this tradition was preserved in England and in Normandy without elaboration throughout the twelfth century.[21] Wace seems to mention the incident, but without any indication that Kerboga was killed by Robert;[22] and in this he is in agreement with the earliest extant version of the Godfrey cycle, the so-called _Chanson d’Antioche_, which narrates the exploit in truly epic form: The count of Normandy was of right haughty mien; Full armed he sat upon his steed of dappled gray. He dashed into the mêlée like a leopard; And his doughty vassals followed him; There was wrought great slaughter of accursed Saracens. Kerboga was seated before his standard; Richly was he armed, he feared neither lance nor dart; From his neck a rich buckler was suspended; His helmet was forged in the city of ‘Baudart’; A carbuncle burned upon the nasal; A strong, stiff lance he bore, and a scimitar; Upon the shield which swung from his neck a parrot was painted.[23] Kerboga advanced with serried ranks. When the count saw him he too advanced upon him, And smote him such a blow upon his buckler That he threw him, legs in air, into the press.[24] Now he would have cut off his head, but he was too late; For Persians and ‘Acopars’ came to the rescue, And bore their lord away to his standard.[25] The _Chanson d’ Antioche_ also narrates another spectacular exploit in which Robert overthrew and slew the great emir ‘Red Lion’ during the same battle;[26] but this episode seems not to have been repeated in other compilations, and it occupies a far less important place in the _Chanson d’ Antioche_ than has been supposed by modern writers, who have sought to trace a connection between it and the Robert medallion in Suger’s famous stained glass window at Saint-Denis.[27] The later compilation of the Godfrey matter, edited by Reiffenberg, contains no mention of Robert’s combat either with Kerboga or with Red Lion; but it relates a very similar exploit in which he overcame a ‘Saracen king of Tabarie.’ With his lance at the thrust, and raising the triumphant war cry “Normandy!”, he bore down upon the Saracen with such force that he pierced his shield a full palm’s breadth and a half, and wounded him deeply “between lungs and liver.”[28] Finally, mention must be made of Robert’s prowess in the legendary battle on the plain of Ramleh before Jerusalem, as told in the fantastic account of the _Chanson de Jérusalem_. This time it was a Turkish King Atenas whom he slew, and many others besides, so that the ground was strewn with the enemy dead. But at last he was surrounded and all but overborne by numbers. His horse was struck down under him, and it was only after desperate fighting against almost hopeless odds that he was finally rescued, when bleeding from many wounds, by his fellow princes.[29] Thus the Robert Curthose of the legends enjoyed a marvellous repute for warlike prowess; and when Jerusalem had at last been won, his valor was rewarded, we are told, with an offer of the crown of the Latin Kingdom, which he promptly rejected.[30] Resting upon no valid contemporary authority,[31] this tradition arose very early, and lent itself to strange distortions as it passed from author to author. It appears first in William of Malmesbury,[32] but it is also to be found before the middle of the twelfth century in Henry of Huntington[33] and in the _Historia Belli Sacri_.[34] In its simplest form it long continued to be repeated by both English and Norman writers.[35] But it also developed strange variations. As has elsewhere been explained, the position of ruler at Jerusalem was actually offered to Count Raymond of Toulouse and declined by him before the election of Godfrey.[36] Perhaps we have here the historical basis of the tradition that the crown was offered to Robert. It seems possible to trace the growth of the legend. By Albert of Aix it is said that when the honor had been declined by Raymond it was offered in turn to each of the other chiefs, and that the humble Godfrey was prevailed upon to accept it only when all the others had refused.[37] In the _Chanson de Jérusalem_ the matter has gone much further. According to this version, Godfrey was first elected by general acclamation of the people, but modestly declined the honor and responsibility. Then the crown was offered to the count of Flanders, to Robert Curthose, to Bohemond, and so in turn to the other leaders, until all had declined; whereupon it was decided to seek divine guidance through the ancient miracle of the holy fire which was accustomed to descend at Jerusalem each year at Easter tide. Accordingly the barons assembled in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, each with an unlighted taper. In the darkness of the night a single candle burned within the great basilica. At midnight a fierce storm arose with lightning, wind, and thunder. The sole light was extinguished. The whole edifice was plunged in darkness. The barons were filled with fear. Suddenly there was another flash from heaven, and it was observed that Godfrey’s taper was burning brightly. The divine will had expressed itself, and the good duke of Bouillon bowed before it.[38] Clearly it was in Godfrey’s honor that this legend of a miraculous designation first arose. Yet in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century it was said by Ralph Niger that it was Robert’s candle which was lighted by the miraculous flame.[39] And once so told, the legend in this form was handed on from writer to writer to the close of the Middle Ages.[40] Langtoft, indeed, declares that Robert was thrice designated by the holy fire.[41] The miracle as told in Robert’s favor, however, involved a logical difficulty which met with a characteristically mediaeval solution. According to early tradition Robert had refused to accept the crown of Jerusalem. The explanation offered by the _Historia Belli Sacri_ is natural and reasonable. Said Robert: “Although I have come hither in God’s service, yet have I not abandoned my county altogether, in order to remain here. And now that I have fulfilled my vow, if God permits, I desire to return to my own dominions.”[42] But if Robert had been chosen for the kingship of Jerusalem by divine will and favor, as was almost universally believed, how was it possible that he should reject such a token of heavenly grace without committing a sin and incurring divine displeasure? Did not the disasters which so quickly overtook him make it abundantly clear that the divine favor had departed from him? This, indeed, was the mediaeval explanation. In refusing the Latin crown, Robert had contemned and spurned the gift of God. Hence his defeat at Tinchebray and wellnigh thirty years of incarceration. No feature of the Robert legends was more persistent or more universally accepted than this. Appearing first in Henry of Huntingdon, it is repeated again and again to the close of the mediaeval period.[43] It remains to notice the legends of pathetic interest which concern themselves not with Robert’s prowess as a crusader but with the tragedy of his long imprisonment. It seems clear that Henry I began by keeping his fallen brother in free custody and treating him with remarkable liberality.[44] Indeed, one tradition has preserved a not unattractive picture of the easy conditions under which Robert was allowed to live, his food and clothing and daily exercise and amusements all bounteously and richly provided for him.[45] Yet, strange to say, the official historian of the reign of Henry II makes the statement—if indeed it is to be found no earlier than this—that the king had his brother blinded;[46] and this ugly tale soon spread far and wide and came to be very generally accepted.[47] But how account for such cruel and inhuman treatment from a king of such eminent justice and virtue as Henry I? Another legend soon supplied the needed explanation. Geoffrey de Vigeois, writing before 1184, informs us that Henry had released Robert upon certain conditions, and that the latter, violating the agreement, had levied a force against the king and had been captured a second time; and he adds the significant statement that he did not need to be captured a third time (_et tertio opus non fuit_).[48] In the versions of Matthew Paris and in the related _Flores Historiarum_ this legend has been elaborated into an episode which is not without its ludicrous as well as its tragic aspects. Friends of Robert, weighty men, had early protested to the king against the duke’s imprisonment. It would disgrace the king and the realm of England throughout the world, they said, if a brother should hold a brother in long incarceration. And so they prevailed upon the king to grant Robert’s release, upon condition that the latter renounce all claim to both Normandy and England and depart from the realm within a period of forty days. But instead of going, Robert took advantage of his liberty to conspire with the earl of Chester and others, with intent to raise an army and drive Henry from the throne. But the plot was discovered, and the king sent messengers to summon Robert before him. When the duke saw them approaching, he turned and fled, but his palfrey ran into the mire and stuck fast, and so the unfortunate fugitive was taken. And when the king learned what had happened, he ordered his brother to be placed in close and perpetual confinement without any hope of release, and had him deprived of his sight.[49] Nevertheless, Henry continued to provide Robert with the best of daily food and with royal vestments.[50] And this brings us to the tale of the scarlet robe, with which our account of the Robert legends may fittingly end. “It so happened that on a feast day, when the king was getting himself a new scarlet robe, and according to his custom was sending one of the same stuff to his brother, he tried to put on the hood, and finding the neck so small that he ripped one of the seams, he said, ‘Take this hood to my brother, for his head is smaller than mine.’ And when it was brought to Robert, he put it on, and immediately discovered the rent, which the tailor had carelessly neglected to mend, for it was very small; and he said, ‘Whence comes this rent which I feel?’ And the king’s messenger laughingly told him all that had happened. Then the duke cried aloud, as if he had been deeply wounded, and said, ‘Alas! alas! now have I lived too long. Why do I still continue to draw out my unhappy days? Behold my brother, even my betrayer and supplanter, now treats me with contempt, and holds me so cheap that he sends me for alms as his dependant his old and torn clothes.’ And weeping bitterly he vowed thenceforth to take no more food, nor would he drink; but he raged against himself, and wasted away. And so he died, cursing the day of his birth.”[51] FOOTNOTES [1] This chapter makes no pretence of being based upon an exhaustive examination of all the sources. Scattered as these are through the historical and romantic literature of several centuries, it is not unlikely that important printed materials have been overlooked, while many manuscripts of the poetic cycle of the Crusade still lie unprinted. It is hoped, however, that enough material has been found and used to give an adequate view of the legendary accretions which gathered about Robert’s name, and to throw an interesting light upon the repute in which he was held in after times. [2] See _supra_, p. 118, and n. 156. [3] _G. R._, ii, pp. 460-461; cf. the superlatives of William of Newburgh, writing at the end of the twelfth century: “Qui tamen armis tantus fuit, ut in ilia magna et famosa expeditione Ierosolymitana in fortissimos totius orbis procres clarissimae militiae titulis fulserit.” _Historia Rerum Anglicarum_, ed. H. C. Hamilton (London, 1856), i, p. 15. [4] _Roman de Rou_, ii, pp. 415-416. [5] _Lestorie des Engles_, ed. T. D. Hardy and C. T. Martin (London, 1888-89), i, pp. 244-245. [6] “Le duc de Normandie a été, en tant que croisé, le héros de tout un cycle poétique qui s’est perdu, mais non sans laisser des traces.” “Robert Court-Heuse à la première croisade,” in _Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres_, 1890, 4th series, xviii, p. 208. [7] Gaston Paris (_op. cit._, p. 211, n. 3) believes that the Robert legend was extinguished first by Robert’s disastrous and inglorious end, and second by the growing popularity of the Godfrey cycle. He thinks that the “lutte des deux traditions poétiques, de provenances différentes, dont l’une avait pour héros Robert et l’autre Godefroi” can be seen in an episode of the _Chanson d’Antioche_ which may be briefly paraphrased as follows. Godfrey, “because he is _preux_ and courageous and of the lineage of Charlemagne,” has just been chosen to represent the Christian army in a proposed single combat with a champion from Kerboga’s host; on hearing which Robert is so incensed at being himself passed over that he prepares to withdraw with his forces from the crusading army. Compared with his own splendid lineage, the ancestors of Godfrey, he declares, are not worth a button. Thereupon the descent of Godfrey from the Chevalier au Cygne is explained to him. And then Godfrey himself comes and humbles himself before Robert and expresses his willingness to yield the honor to him. At that Robert is mollified and consents to remain. _La Chanson d’ Antioche_, ed. Paulin Paris (Paris, 1848), ii, pp. 177-183. It is difficult to see where support for Paris’s theory can be found in the matter thus summarized. All that concerns Robert, it seems clear, exists not for itself at all, but as a mere literary foil for setting off the merits of Godfrey and his descent from the Chevalier au Cygne. The evidence of the Saint-Denis window which Gaston Paris cites must be ruled out. See Appendix G. The _Chanson d’ Antioche_, in the form in which we now have it, is held to have been composed early in the reign of Philip Augustus by Grandor of Douai, a Flemish _trouvère_, upon the basis of an earlier poem, now lost, by Richard le Pèlerin, a minstrel who actually took part in the First Crusade. _Histoire littéraire de la France_, xxii (1852), pp. 355-356; Auguste Molinier, _Les sources de l’histoire de France_ (Paris, 1901-06), no. 2154. [8] _Supra_, p. 190. [9] _Li estoire de Jérusalem et d’ Antioche_, in _H. C. Oc._, v, pp. 629-630. This chronicle, in old French prose of the second half of the thirteenth century, is based ultimately upon Fulcher of Chartres, but it is filled with matter of a purely imaginary character. It seems to contain almost no points of contact with the other sources from which the Robert legends are to be drawn. It represents Robert as taking part in the battle with Kilij Arslan at Nicaea—actually Robert had not yet arrived at Nicaea—and overthrowing him and taking his horse. It also portrays Robert as the principal leader at Nicaea, and the one to whom Kilij Arslan sent the messenger Amendelis to open negotiations. [10] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 761; cf. the fifteenth century _Anonymi Rhenani Historia et Gesta Ducis Gotfredi_, _ibid._, v, p. 454. [11] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 622. Ralph’s whole account of the battle is almost epic in character; cf. the poems (pp. 625-629) devoted to the exploits of individual heroes, and especially the two lines on p. 627: Rollandum dicas Oliveriumque renatos, Si comitum spectes hunc hasta, hunc ense, furentes. [12] P. 221. [13] _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, i, pp. 82-83; Ralph de Diceto, _Opera Historica_, ed. William Stubbs (London, 1876), i, p. 222; Roger of Wendover, _Flores Historiarum_, ed. H. O. Coxe (London, 1841-44), ii, p. 87; Matthew Paris, _Chronica Maiora_, ed. H. R. Luard (London, 1872-83), ii, p. 64; idem, _Historia Minor_, ed. Frederick Madden (London, 1866-69), i, pp. 85-86; _Flores Historiarum_, ed. H. R. Luard (London, 1890), ii, p. 29; _Le livere de reis de Brittanie e le livere de reis de Engletere_, ed. John Glover (London, 1865), p. 166; Robert of Gloucester, _Metrical Chronicle_, ed. W. A. Wright (London, 1887), ii, pp. 585-586; Thomas Walsingham, _Y podigma Neustriae_, ed. H. T. Riley (London, 1876), p. 79. [14] _Supra_, p. 106. [15] P. 224. [16] _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, i, p. 84; Ralph de Diceto, i, p. 223; Matthew Paris, _Chronica Maiora_, ii, p. 74; _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 29; Robert of Gloucester, ii, p. 591; Walsingham, _Y podigma_, p. 80. See also the references given in nn. 17 and 18 _infra_. [17] Roger of Wendover, ii, p. 103; Matthew Paris, _Historia Minor_, i, p. 102. [18] _Le livere de reis_, p. 168. [19] _Supra_, pp. 107-108. [20] _G. R._, ii, p. 460. [21] Geoffrey Gaimar, in the extract quoted on p. 191, _supra_; _Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi_, ed. William Stubbs (London, 1867), i, p. 329; cf. Roger of Hoveden, i, p. 274. [22] _Roman de Rou_, as quoted on p. 191, _supra_. [23] The reading and the meaning are here uncertain. I follow the conjecture of the editor. [24] “Le trebuche el begart.” According to Godefroy (_Dictionnaire de l’ancienne langue française_) the meaning of _begart_ is undetermined. Again I follow the conjecture of the editor. [25] _Chanson d’ Antioche_, ii, pp. 245-246. [26] _Ibid._, p. 261. Red Lion is perhaps to be identified with Kilij Arslan, sultan of Iconium. [27] Paul Riant and Ferdinand de Mély, in _Revue de l’art chrétien_, 1890, pp. 299-300. Their view has been rightly rejected by Gaston Paris in _Comptes rendus de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres_, 1890, p. 208. See Appendix G. In _Le Chevalier au Cygne et Godefroid de Bouillon_, ed. F. A. F. T. le Baron de Reiffenburg (Brussels, 1846-59), ii, pp. 231-232, Red Lion is killed by Count Baldwin. This version of the Godfrey matter has been assigned to the fourteenth century both by Paulin Paris (_Histoire littéraire_, xxv, p. 508) and by Célestin Hippeau (_La conquête de Jérusalem_, p. ix), but A.-G. Krüger, in a more recent discussion, has placed it as late as the first half of the fifteenth century. “Les manuscrits de la Chanson du Chevalier au Cygne et de Godefroi de Bouillon,” in _Romania_, xxviii (1899), p. 426. [28] _Le Chevalier au Cygne et Godefroid de Bouillon_, ii, p. 212-213. [29] _La conquête de Jérusalem_, ed. Célestin Hippeau (Paris, 1868), pp. 308-311. There is as yet no edition of this poem worthy of the name. Much difference of opinion has been expressed as to the date of its composition. It has been ascribed by its editor to the thirteenth century. _Ibid._, pp. xviii, xix, xxv. But Paulin Paris held it to be a part of the work of Grandor of Douai, compiler of the _Chanson d’Antioche_, and thought it, too, like the latter, was based upon the lost work of Richard le Pèlerin. _Histoire littéraire_, xxii, p. 370, and cf. p. 384. And Molinier has somewhat carelessly assigned it to _circa_ 1130. _Sources de l’histoire de France_, no. 2154. On the other hand Henri Pigeonneau, while he would ascribe it to the late twelfth century, still holds that it certainly is not by the author of the _Chanson d’Antioche_, and that it is a later composition than the latter. _Le cycle de la croisade et de la famille de Bouillon_ (Saint Cloud, 1877), pp. 42-55. Certainly one works over the poem with a growing conviction that it is late rather than early. It is almost wholly a work of imagination, in which traditions of events centring around Antioch are hopelessly mingled with others pertaining to the region of Jerusalem. One can hardly say whether the imaginary battle of Ramleh contains more of the battle of Ascalon or of the battle against Kerboga. It may be noted in passing that in the battle of Ascalon Robert performed an actual feat of arms (cf. _supra_, pp. 115-116) which may perhaps form the basis of all the legendary exploits which we have been passing in review. The references to the enemy’s ‘standard’ in Wace (_supra_, p. 190) and in the _Chanson d’Antioche_ (_supra_, p. 195) would seem to lend some color to this view. But it should be borne in mind that such exploits of knightly valor are a commonplace of the _chansons de geste_, and are attributed to Godfrey and to other chiefs as well as to Robert. [30] Gaimar is specific in his statement that the election of Robert was due to his reputation for valor (_supra_, p. 191), as is also the author of an anonymous Norman chronicle of the thirteenth century, excerpted by Paul Meyer from a Cambridge manuscript in _Notices et extraits des manuscrits_, xxxii, 2, p. 65: “Li quens Rob., por les granz proesces que il feseit e qu’il avoit fetes, e por sa grant valor e son grant hardement, fu eslit a estre roi de Sulie.” [31] _Supra_, p. 114. [32] _G. R._, ii, p. 461. [33] Pp. 229, 236. [34] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 225. [35] _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, i, p. 87; _Annales de Waverleia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 207; _Gesta Henrici Secundi_, i, p. 329; Gervase of Tilbury, _Otia Imperialia_, in _H. F._, xiv, p. 13; _Chronique de Normandie_, _ibid._, xiii, p. 247; Matthew Paris, _Chronica Maiora_, v, p. 602; _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 32; Robert of Gloucester, ii, pp. 607-608; John Capgrave, _Chronicle of England_, ed. F. C. Hingeston (London, 1858), p. 133; idem, _Liber de Illustribus Henricis_, ed. F. C. Hingeston (London, 1858), p. 55. [36] _Supra_, p. 114. [37] _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 485. [38] _La conquête de Jérusalem_, pp. 183-191. The legend is repeated in substantially the same form in _Le Chevalier au Cygne et Godefroid de Bouillon_, iii, pp. 81-88. [39] _Chronica Universalis_, in _M. G. H._, Scriptores, xxvii, p. 334. [40] An inedited Flemish chronicle of uncertain date, cited by Pigeonneau, _Le cycle de la croisade_, p. 76; Roger of Wendover, ii, p. 146; Matthew Paris, _Historia Minor_, i, pp. 149-150; Ranulf Higden, _Polychronicon_, ed. J. R. Lumby (London, 1865-86), vii, p. 424; _Eulogium Historiarum_, ed. F. C. Haydon (London, 1858-63), iii, p. 64. Roger of Wendover and Matthew Paris make the explanation that when his candle had been lighted, Robert secretly extinguished it, meaning to refuse the crown. [41] Peter Langtoft, _Chronicle_, ed. Thomas Wright (London, 1866-68), i, p. 460. [42] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 225. The account of the election given in _Li estoire de Jérusalem et d’Antioche_ appears to have no connection with any of our other sources. _Ibid._, v, p. 639. [43] Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 229-230, 236; _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, i, pp. 87, 128-129; _Annales de Waverleia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 207; _Gesta Henrici Secundi_, i, pp. 329-330; Roger of Wendover, ii, p. 146; Matthew Paris, _Chronica Maiora_, ii, pp. 106-107, 132; v, p. 602; idem, _Historia Minor_, i, p. 205; _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 32; Robert of Gloucester, ii, pp. 607-608, 628-629; Capgrave, _Chronicle of England_, p. 133; idem, _De Illustribus Henricis_, pp. 55, 57. [44] _Supra_, p. 179. [45] “Rex autem, memor fraternitatis, eundem comitem Robertum in libera carceris custodia, sine ciborum penuria vel luminis beneficio vel preciosarum vestium ornatu, salvo tamen fecit reservari. Liceret etiam ei ad scaccos et aleas ludere. Robas etiam regis, sicut ipse rex, accipiebat; pomeria vicina et saltus et loca delectabilia perambulando, ex regis licentia, visitavit.” _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 39. [46] _Gesta Henrici Secundi_, i, p. 330. [47] _Annales de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ii, p. 50; _Chronicon Thomae Wykes_, _ibid._, iv, p. 15; _Annales de Wigornia_, _ibid._, iv, p. 378; Matthew Paris, _Chronica Maiora_, ii, p. 133; idem, _Historia Minor_, i, pp. 30, 213; _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 39; Henry Knighton, _Chronicon_, ed. J. R. Lumby (London, 1889-95), i, p. 113; _Eulogium Historiarum_, iii, p. 58; Capgrave, _De Illustribus Henricis_, p. 65. [48] _H. F._, xii, p. 432. [49] Matthew Paris, _Historia Minor_, i, pp. 212-213; idem, _Chronica Maiora_, ii, p. 133; _Flores Historiarum_, ii, p. 39. [50] Matthew Paris, _Historia Minor_, i, p. 213. [51] Matthew Paris, _Historia Minor_, i, p. 248. The translation is a free and somewhat condensed rendering of the original. Cf. the same, _Chronica Maiora_, ii, pp. 160-161; Capgrave, _De Illustribus Henricis_, p. 65. APPENDICES APPENDIX A NOTE ON THE SOURCES In a field already so well explored as that of Normandy and England in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, there is little need to enter into a detailed discussion of primary materials. A brief review, however, of the sources upon which the present volume is based may be a convenience and serve a useful purpose. Among the narrative sources for the life of Robert Curthose, the _Historia Ecclesiastica_[1] of Ordericus Vitalis is, of course, by far the most important. One of the greatest historical writers of the twelfth century, the monk of Saint-Évroul has treated of Robert’s character and career at great length and with much vivacity and insight. And while one may admit with Gaston Le Hardy[2] that he was no friend of the duke, indeed, that as a churchman and as a lover of peace and of strong and orderly government he was strongly prejudiced against him and sometimes treated him unfairly, still it must be confessed that in the main his strictures are confirmed by other evidence and are presumably justified. Unfortunately, Ordericus Vitalis stands almost alone among early Norman writers in paying attention to the career of Robert Curthose. Some assistance, however, has been gained from William of Poitiers[3] and from the _Gesta Normannorum Ducum_, a composite work once solely attributed to William of Jumièges, but now at last made available in a critical edition which distinguishes the parts actually written by William of Jumièges, Ordericus Vitalis, Robert of Torigny, and others.[4] The _Roman de Rou_ of Wace[5] has also been drawn upon, sometimes rather freely, but it is hoped always with due caution and discretion, for much picturesque detail concerning events in western Normandy, about which the author clearly possessed special information. For Robert’s relations with Maine, the contemporary _Actus Pontificum Cenomannis in Urbe degentium_[6] have been an almost constant guide, often confirming and even supplementing the more extensive but less precise narrative of Ordericus Vitalis. Matter of much importance has also from time to time been gleaned from the works of French and Flemish writers, such as the famous _Vie de Louis le Gros_ by Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis,[7] the anonymous _Chronique de Morigny_,[8] and the _Histoire du Meurtre de Charles le Bon_ by Galbert of Bruges.[9] The English writers of the period have naturally proved invaluable. Of these, William of Malmesbury,[10] as we should expect, possesses the keenest insight into Robert’s character; but the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ treats[11] of the events of Robert’s life with greater fulness and in more coherent and trustworthy chronological order. Florence of Worcester[12] is in general dependent upon the _Chronicle_, but occasionally he presents a different view or supplementary matter of independent value; and the same may be said of the _Historia Regum_, which is commonly attributed to Simeon of Durham,[13] in its relation to Florence of Worcester. Henry of Huntingdon,[14] who is also largely dependent upon the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, professes himself a first-hand authority from the accession of Robert Curthose and William Rufus to the ducal and royal thrones in 1087;[15] and his narrative becomes increasingly valuable as it advances, though he cannot be considered a really independent writer before 1126, i.e., a score of years after the close of Duke Robert’s active career at the battle of Tinchebray. For all the facts bearing upon Robert’s life with which it deals, the _Historia Novorum in Anglia_ of Eadmer,[16] the companion and confidential adviser of Archbishop Anselm, is a strictly contemporary narrative of the highest value, though its specialized character considerably restricts its usefulness for the purposes of the present study. The brief chronicle of Hyde abbey,[17] which was compiled during the reign of Henry I, has often proved helpful, as have also other minor monastic narratives such as the chronicle of Abingdon[18] and the annals of Winchester,[19] of Waverley,[20] etc. The documentary sources for the life of Robert Curthose are very meagre; but, such as they are, they are now all conveniently accessible. As a result of prolonged researches in the archives and libraries of Normandy and in the Bibliothèque Nationale, and after a careful sifting of all the printed materials, Professor Charles H. Haskins has been able to give us, in another volume of the _Harvard Historical Studies_, a definitive edition of seven hitherto unpublished ducal charters, together with a complete and annotated list of all the charters of the reign.[21] The best guides to the remainder of the documentary material bearing upon Robert’s life are the _Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum_ by H. W. C. Davis[22] and the _Calendar of Documents preserved in France illustrative of the History of Great Britain and Ireland_ by J. H. Round.[23] While both these works leave something to be desired, they have proved invaluable in the preparation of the present study; and it is earnestly to be hoped that the publication of the second volume of Davis’s work, containing the charters of Henry I, will not be long delayed.[24] For the full texts of documents, and for other scattered materials not calendared by either Round or Davis, it has been necessary to consult many special collections, e.g., the _Livre noir_ of Bayeux cathedral,[25] the _Chartes de Saint-Julien de Tours_,[26] the _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de Saint-Vincent du Mans_,[27] the letters of Pascal II,[28] of Ivo of Chartres,[29] and of St. Anselm,[30] which are too numerous to be listed here in detail, and which have been fully cited in their proper places in footnotes. The Crusade forms a special chapter in the record of Robert’s life for which it is necessary to draw upon a different group of sources. Of works by contemporary or early writers on the Crusade, the anonymous _Gesta Francorum_[31] is, of course, invaluable for all the facts with which it deals; but the _Historia Hierosolymitana_ of Fulcher of Chartres[32] has proved of even greater service in the present study, because of the author’s close association with Robert Curthose on the Crusade from the time when the expedition left Normandy until it reached Marash in Armenia; concerning later events also Fulcher was by no means ill informed. The _Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Iherusalem_ of Raymond of Aguilers[33] is also a first-hand narrative by an eyewitness; and, while the author is at times rather hostile to Duke Robert and the Normans, he is nevertheless invaluable as representing the point of view of the Provençaux. Inferior to any of the foregoing, but still by a writer who was in the East and who was well informed, the _Gesta Tancredi_ of Ralph of Caen[34] has proved of great assistance, as has also the voluminous, but less trustworthy, work of Albert of Aix,[35] which, when it has been possible to check it with other evidence, has contributed valuable information. Of western writers on the Crusade who did not actually make the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, apart from Ordericus Vitalis,[36] who has already been mentioned, Guibert of Nogent[37] and Baldric, archbishop of Dol,[38] have been most helpful. The English writers, except William of Malmesbury,[39]—whose account is based almost wholly upon Fulcher of Chartres, and, apart from an occasional detail, is of little value—have not treated the Crusade with any fulness, and are of little service except for the beginnings of the movement. Of the Greek sources only the _Alexiad_ of Anna Comnena[40] has been of much assistance. The Oriental writers are in general too late to be of great importance for the First Crusade, and they had, of course, no particular interest in Robert Curthose; but their writings have not been overlooked, and Matthew of Edessa,[41] Ibn el-Athir,[42] Kemal ed-Din,[43] and Usama ibn Munkidh[44] have been of service. The contemporary letters bearing upon the Crusade have been admirably edited, with exhaustive critical notes, by Heinrich Hagenmeyer.[45] Of charters, or documents in the strict sense of the word, there are almost none relating to the Crusade; but such as there are, they have been rendered easily accessible by the painstaking calendar of documents dealing with the history of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem by Reinhold Röhricht.[46] It would be going too far afield to describe at this point the scattered materials from which the attempt has been made to draw up a list of the known associates and followers of Robert on the Crusade. They are fully cited in Appendix D. For the chapter on Robert Curthose in legend, with which the narrative part of the present volume ends, it has been necessary to depart from the narrow chronological limits within which the rest of our researches have been conducted, and to explore a wide range of literature extending to the close of the Middle Ages. Most of the Robert legends make their appearance early, and can be traced to a certain extent in William of Malmesbury and Henry of Huntingdon and in Robert the Monk and Ralph of Caen. But their elaboration was in the main the work of chroniclers and romancers of a later period. Among Norman and English sources, the works of Geoffrey Gaimar, Wace, William of Newburgh, Ralph de Diceto, and Ralph Niger have proved most helpful for the twelfth century; of Roger of Wendover, Matthew Paris, and Robert of Gloucester, together with the anonymous _Flores Historiarum_ and _Livere de reis de Engletere_, for the thirteenth; of Peter Langtoft, Ranulf Higden, and Henry Knighton, together with the anonymous _Eulogium Historiarum_, for the fourteenth; while Thomas Walsingham in the fifteenth century has occasionally been of service. Much material of a legendary character relating to Robert’s exploits in the Holy War has also been gleaned from the various versions of the poetic cycle of the Crusade, the most notable of which are the _Chanson d’Antioche_ of the late twelfth century, the _Chanson de Jérusalem_, which probably dates from the thirteenth century, and the _Chevalier au Cygne et Godefroid de Bouillon_, edited by the Baron de Reiffenberg, which belongs to the fourteenth or fifteenth century. Such detailed criticism as it has seemed necessary to make of these widely scattered materials bearing upon Robert Curthose in legend has been placed in the footnotes of Chapter VIII, where the editions used have also been fully cited. FOOTNOTES [1] Ed. Auguste Le Prévost. 5 vols. Paris, 1838-55. The critical introduction (i, pp. i-cvi) by Léopold Delisle is definitive. [2] Cf. _supra_, pp. vii-viii. [3] _Gesta Willelmi Ducis Normannorum et Regis Anglorum_, in _H. F._, xi, pp. 75-104. [4] Ed. Jean Marx. Paris, 1914. Most of the material of value for the present study comes from the interpolations of Robert of Torigny. [5] Ed. Hugo Andresen. 2 vols. Heilbronn, 1877-79. [6] Ed. G. Busson and A. Ledru. Le Mans, 1901 (_Archives historiques du Maine_, ii). [7] Ed. Auguste Molinier. Paris, 1887. [8] Ed. Léon Mirot. Paris, 1909. [9] Ed. Henri Pirenne. Paris, 1891. [10] _De Gestis Regum Anglorum_, ed. William Stubbs. 2 vols. London, 1889. _De Gestis Pontificum Anglorum_, ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton. London, 1870. [11] _Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel_, ed. Charles Plummer. 2 vols. Oxford, 1892-99. [12] _Chronicon ex Chronicis_, ed. Benjamin Thorpe. 2 vols. London, 1848-49. [13] Simeon of Durham, _Opera Omnia_, ed. Thomas Arnold, ii. London, 1885. Cf. _infra_, p. 216. [14] _Historia Anglorum_, ed. Thomas Arnold. London, 1879. [15] “Hactenus de his quae vel in libris veterum legendo repperimus, vel fama vulgante percepimus, tractatum est. Nunc autem de his quae vel ipsi vidimus, vel ab his qui viderant audivimus, pertractandum est.” _Ibid._, pp. 213-214. [16] Ed. Martin Rule. London, 1884. [17] _Chronicon Monasterii de Hyda_, in _Liber de Hyda_, ed. Edward Edwards, pp. 283-321. London, 1866. [18] _Chronicon Monasterii de Abingdon_, ed. Joseph Stevenson. 2 vols. London, 1858. [19] _Annales Monasterii de Wintonia_, in _Annales Monastici_, ed. H. R. Luard, ii, pp. 1-125. London, 1865. [20] _Annales Monasterii de Waverleia_, _ibid._, pp. 127-411. [21] _Norman Institutions_ (Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1918) pp. 285-292, 66-70. [22] Vol. i. Oxford, 1913. [23] Vol. i. London, 1899 (_Calendars of State Papers_). [24] “An Outline Itinerary of King Henry the First,” by W. Farrer, in _E. H. R._, xxxiv, pp. 303-382, 505-579 (July, October, 1919), came to hand just as the present volume was going to press. I am indebted to it for the location of certain charters which until then had escaped my notice. [25] _Antiquus Cartularius Ecclesiae Baiocensis_, ed. V. Bourrienne. 2 vols. Paris, 1902-03. [26] Ed. L.-J. Denis. Le Mans, 1912 (_Archives historiques du Maine_, xii). [27] Ed. R. Charles and S. Menjot d’Elbenne, i. Le Mans, 1886. [28] Migne, clxiii. [29] _H. F._, xv. [30] Migne, clix. [31] Ed. Heinrich Hagemneyer. Heidelberg, 1890. [32] Ed. idem. Heidelberg, 1913. [33] _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 235-309. [34] _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 587-601. [35] _Liber Christianae Expeditionis pro Ereptione, Emundatione, Restitutione Sanctae Hierosolymitanae Ecclesiae_, _ibid._, iv, pp. 265-713. [36] Bk. ix of the _Historia Ecclesiastica_ is devoted to the history of the First Crusade. [37] _Gesta Dei per Francos_, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 115-263. [38] _Historia Hierosolymitana_, _ibid._, pp. 1-111. [39] _G. R._, ii. [40] _H. C. G._, i, 2, pp. 1-204. [41] _Chronique_, in _H. C. A._, i, pp. 1-150. [42] _Histoire des Atabecs de Mosul_, in _H. C. Or._, ii, 2, pp. 1-375; _Kamel-Altevarykh_, _ibid._, i. [43] _Chronique d’Alep_, _ibid._, iii. [44] _Autobiographie_, French translation by Hartwig Derenbourg. Paris, 1895. [45] _Die Kreuzzugsbriefe aus den Jahren 1088-1100: eine Quellensammlung zur Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges._ Innsbruck, 1901. [46] _Regesta Regni Hierosolymitani._ Innsbruck, 1893. _Additamentum._ Innsbruck, 1904. APPENDIX B _DE INIUSTA VEXATIONE WILLELMI EPISCOPI PRIMI_[1] The anonymous tract _De Iniusta Vexatione Willelmi Episcopi Primi_[2] is worthy of more attention and of a more critical study than it has yet received.[3] Since it gives the only detailed account which we possess of the dispute between William Rufus and William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, and of the trial of the latter before the _curia regis_ at Salisbury upon a charge of treason in connection with the rebellion of 1088, final judgment as to the bishop’s guilt or innocence must in large measure depend upon a just estimate of its value. Freeman was very reluctant to recognize its high authority as compared with his favorite ‘southern writers,’ the Anglo-Saxon chronicler, Florence of Worcester, and William of Malmesbury;[4] but his distrust appears to be unwarranted. The tract is manifestly made up of two distinct parts: (1) the main body of an original _libellus_, concerned exclusively with the bishop’s ‘vexation,’ and beginning (p. 171), “Rex Willelmus iunior dissaisivit Dunelmensem episcopum,” and ending (p. 194), “rex permisit episcopo transitum”; and (2) introductory and concluding chapters, which contain a brief sketch of the bishop’s career before and after his unfortunate quarrel with the king and his expulsion from the realm. The joints at which the separate narratives are pieced together are apparent upon the most cursory examination. Not only is there a striking contrast between the detailed and documentary treatment found in the body of the _libellus_ and the bare summaries which make up the introductory and concluding paragraphs, but the reader is actually warned of the transition in the last sentence of the introduction by the phrase (p. 171), “quam rem _sequens libellus_ manifestat ex ordine.” The two parts of the tract are evidently derived from different sources and written at different times by different authors. The _libellus_ properly so called, i.e., the central portion of the tract, is a narrative well supplied with documents; it has all the appearance of being contemporary and by an eyewitness, and is manifestly a source of the greatest value for the facts with which it deals. Liebermann, with his unrivalled knowledge of mediaeval English legal materials, has declared that there is no ground for doubting its authenticity;[5] and Professor G. B. Adams, who also finds abundant internal evidence of its genuineness, points out, as an indication that it was written by an eyewitness in the company of Bishop William, the fact that no attempt is made to tell what went on within the _curia_ while the bishop and his supporters were outside; and further, he considers it more “objective and impartial” than Eadmer’s better known account of the trial of Anselm before the council of Rockingham.[6] The author, it may be conjectured, was a monk of Durham who stood in somewhat the same favored position among the intimates of Bishop William as that occupied by Eadmer with regard to Anselm; and while we know nothing of his personality, it is perhaps worth remarking in passing that he may very well be the ‘certain monk’ (_quendam suum monachum_) who acts on at least two occasions as the bishop’s messenger (pp. 172, 175). The account in the earlier instance is so intimate and personal as strongly to support this hypothesis: “Ipsum quoque monachum episcopi, qui de rege redibat, accepit et equum suum ei occidit; postea peditem abire permisit.” The introduction and the conclusion of the tract, on the other hand, are not a first-hand narrative; and fortunately we possess the source from which they are derived. The introduction (pp. 170 f.), dealing with the bishop’s career prior to 1088, contains nothing which is not told with much greater fulness in the opening chapters of the fourth book of the _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_ of Simeon of Durham.[7] It is in fact a mere summary of those chapters; and while the author is no servile copyist, he evidently had no other source of information. It seems safe to conclude, therefore, that he was not identical with the author of the original _libellus_. Judged by style and method, the conclusion of the tract (pp. 194 f.) appears to be by the same author as the introduction. It, too, is clearly an abridgment of certain chapters of the _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_,[8] though with this notable difference from the introduction, that it contains some matter not to be found in the _Historia_, e.g., the statement that the exiled bishop was intrusted by the duke with the administration of all Normandy, and the notices of the expedition of William Rufus against King Malcolm in 1091, and of the presence of the Scottish king at the laying of the first stones in the foundation of the new cathedral at Durham in 1093. Apparently, for these more recent events, the writer was drawing upon his own first-hand knowledge. The date at which the introductory and concluding chapters were appended to the original Durham _libellus_ cannot be fixed with exactness. The reference to Anselm as “sanctae memoriae” (p. 195) shows that they were written after his death in 1109;[9] and since, as will appear below, they in turn were used in the _Historia Regum_, which is commonly attributed to Simeon of Durham, the _terminus ad quem_ cannot be placed much later than 1129.[10] The relationship between the above mentioned additions to the Durham _libellus_ and the _Historia Regum_ may be displayed by the following quotations. The introduction to the Durham tract closes with the following sentence (p. 171): … sed orta inter regem et primates Angliae magna dissensione, episcopus [i.e., William of Durham] ab invidis circumventus usque ad expulsionem iram regis pertulit, _quam rem sequens libellus manifestat ex ordine_; and the conclusion opens as follows (pp. 194 f.): _Anno sui episcopatus octavo expulsus est ab Anglia, sed a Roberto fratre regis, comite Normannorum, honorifice susceptus, totius Normanniae curam suscepit. Tertio autem anno, repacificatus regi, recepit episcopatum suum_, ipso rege cum fratre suo totoque Angliae exercitu, cum Scotiam contra Malcolmum tenderent, _eum in sedem suam restituentibus, ipsa videlicet die qua inde pulsus fuerat. Tertio Idus Septembris_, secundo anno suae reversionis, ecclesiam veterem, quam Aldunus quondam episcopus construxerat, a fundamentis destruxit. The account of the rebellion of 1088 in the _Historia Regum_—at this point almost wholly independent of Florence of Worcester—ends with the expulsion, not of Bishop William of Durham, but of Bishop Odo of Bayeux: … et ita episcopus [i.e., Odo] qui fere fuit secundus rex Angliae, honorem amisit irrecuperabiliter. _Sed episcopus veniens Normanniam statim a Rodberto comite totius provinciae curam suscepit; cuius ordinem causae libellus in hoc descriptus aperte ostendit. Etiam Dunholmensis episcopus Willelmus, viii. anno episcopatus, et multi alii, de Anglia exierunt._[11] And in a later passage the king’s restoration of Bishop William to his see is thus recorded: _Veniens Dunelmum, episcopum Willelmum restituit in sedem suam, ipso post annos tres die quo eam reliquit, scilicet iii. idus Septembris._[12] Thomas Arnold, the editor of Simeon’s _Opera_, remarks upon the clause “cuius ordinem causae libellus in hoc descriptus aperte ostendit” of the _Historia Regum_, “This ‘libellus,’ describing Odo’s administration in Normandy, appears to be lost.”[13] Taken by itself the passage is obscure, and it is perhaps not surprising that the editor wholly mistook its meaning. But a comparison of it with the clause “quam rem sequens libellus manifestat ex ordine” of the Durham tract at once reveals dependence and resolves the difficulty. The verbal similarities are striking, and the author of course uses the puzzling “causae” because the source from which he drew was in fact the account of a _causa_, viz., the trial of William of Saint-Calais before the _curia regis_. It is clear, therefore, that the _libellus_ to which the author of the _Historia Regum_ refers his readers is not a lost treatise on the administration of Bishop Odo in Normandy—as Arnold supposed—but in fact the Durham tract on the ‘unjust vexation’ of Bishop William, which Arnold had himself already published in the first volume of Simeon’s works. A further comparison of all the passages which have been indicated by italics in the foregoing excerpts fully confirms this conclusion and reveals the extent of the debt of the _Historia Regum_ to the Durham tract. Not only the verbal agreements but the close similarities in thought are so marked as to preclude every possibility of independence. We are now in a position to see how the author of the _Historia Regum_ worked. Having before him the chronicle of Florence of Worcester—which he regularly followed—with its dark picture of Bishop William’s treason, and the elaborate Durham tract in his defence, he chose to suppress all reference to the bishop of Durham in connection with the rebellion, and substituted for him Odo of Bayeux as a scapegoat. Then at the end of his chapter he added, apparently as an afterthought, and borrowing directly from the Durham tract, that Bishop William ‘departed’ from England in the eighth year of his episcopate. The statement of the _Historia Regum_, therefore, that Odo of Bayeux upon his expulsion from England after the fall of Rochester went to Normandy and had the ‘care’ of the whole duchy committed to his charge, is valueless. If that honor belongs to any one, it is to William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, as set forth in the conclusion of the tract _De Iniusta Vexatione_.[14] But the author of the _Historia Regum_ was a clumsy borrower, and we have not yet reached the end of the confusion which has arisen as the result of his easy way of juggling with his sources. In a later passage in which he deals with the return of Bishop William to his see at the time of the expedition of William Rufus against King Malcolm in 1091, he explains that the restoration of the bishop took place on the third anniversary of his retirement, “that is, on the 3d before the Ides of September.” Freeman, relying upon this text, but apparently mistaking Ides for Nones, states that the arrival of the king in Durham and the reinstatement of the bishop took place on 3 September.[15] Comparison with the parallel text of the Durham tract, however, makes it clear that the author of the _Historia Regum_ has here again made an unintelligent and altogether misleading use of his source, copying almost verbatim, but detaching the phrase “iii. idus Septembris” from the next sentence, where it properly refers to an event of the year 1093. It is necessary, therefore, to get back to the evidence of the _De Iniusta Vexatione_, which not only says that Bishop William was reinstated on the third anniversary of his expulsion, but fixes that earlier date with exactness: “Acceperunt ergo Ivo Taillesboci et Ernesius de Burone castellum Dunelmense in manus regis, et dissaisiverunt episcopum de ecclesia et de castello, et de omni terra sua xviii. kal. Decembr.” (p. 192). The bishop’s restoration, accordingly, should be dated 14 November 1091. If it cause surprise that William Rufus should have undertaken a campaign in the northern country so late in the season, it may be noted that he previously had his hands full with an expedition against the Welsh,[16] and that Florence of Worcester in describing the campaign makes the significant statement, “multique de equestri exercitus eius fame et frigore perierunt.”[17] It remains to raise a question as to the authorship of the _Historia Regum_. As is well known, the evidence on which both it and the _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_ are attributed to Simeon of Durham is not contemporary and not conclusive,[18] though a better case can be made out for the latter than for the former. Without discussing this evidence anew, and without entering at this time upon the more extended inquiry as to whether it is credible that two works of such different character and of such unequal merit can be by a single author, it is still pertinent here to remark their striking difference in point of view with regard to the controversy between William Rufus and the bishop of Durham. The _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_ speaks of the quarrel and of the bishop’s expulsion and exile without any reserve; and, moreover, it contains remarkably full information concerning his fortunes while in exile.[19] In all this it is freely reproduced in the additions to the Durham _libellus_ (pp. 171, 194 f.). And they in turn are used by the author of the _Historia Regum_.[20] Yet with these additions and the original _libellus_ and Florence of Worcester all before him, he suppresses every reference to the alleged treason of Bishop William, persistently declines to use such words as expulsion and exile in connection with him, and steadily ignores the quarrel. For him the bishop ‘went out’ of England, although he unconsciously slips into an inconsistency in a later passage when he notes that the bishop was ‘restored’ to the see which he had ‘left.’[21] If the _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_ and the _Historia Regum_ are by one and the same author, then assuredly he had a bad memory for what he had himself previously written, and his point of view had curiously shifted during the intervening years. FOOTNOTES [1] Reprinted with slight revision from _E. H. R._, xxxii (1917), pp. 382-387. [2] Published in William Dugdale’s _Monasticon Anglicanum_, new ed. (London, 1817-30), i, pp. 244-250, and in Simeon of Durham, _Opera Omnia_, ed. Thomas Arnold (London, 1882-85), i, pp. 170-195. References are to the latter edition. [3] Professor G. B. Adams has recently made it the basis of an admirable article entitled “Procedure in the Feudal Curia Regis” (_Columbia Law Review_, xiii, pp. 277-293); but he has confined his attention in the main to forms of procedure, and has dealt only incidentally with the critical problems involved. [4] _William Rufus_, i, pp. 28 ff.; ii, pp. 469-474. [5] _Historische Aufsätze dem Andenken an Georg Waitz gewidmet_ (Hanover, 1886), p. 159, n. 10. [6] _Columbia Law Review_, xiii, pp. 277 f., 287, 291. [7] Simeon, _H. D. E._, pp. 119-122, 127 f. [8] Simeon, _H. D. E._, pp. 128 f., 133-135. [9] Cf. Arnold’s introduction, p. xxv. The _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_ which they abridge was composed between 1104 and 1109. _Ibid._, p. xix. [10] On the date of the composition of the _Historia Regum_ see Simeon, _H. R._, pp. xx-xxi; cf. Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. xv. [11] Simeon, _H. R._, pp. 216-217. [12] _Ibid._, p. 218. [13] _Ibid._, p. 217, n. _a_. [14] Cf. Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. 128: “quem comes Normannorum non ut exulem, sed ut patrem suscipiens, in magno honore per tres annos, quibus ibi moratus est, habuit.” The charters also bear evidence of the honored position which he enjoyed in Normandy during his exile. See Haskins, p. 76. [15] _William Rufus_, i, p. 300. [16] William of Malmesbury, _G. R._, ii, p. 365. [17] Vol. ii, p. 28. It is also clear from Florence that the king did not arrive in Durham until after the destruction of the English fleet, which took place a few days before Michaelmas; cf. _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1091. A reference to these events in the _miracula_ of St. Cuthbert makes mention of the summer heat (_tempus aestatis fervidum_), but this evidently is to be connected with Malcolm’s raid of the previous summer and not with the later expedition of William Rufus against him. Simeon, _H. R._, p. 340. [18] For the evidence see Arnold’s introductions, i, pp. xv-xxiii; ii, pp. x-xi, xx-xxi. [19] Simeon, _H. D. E._, p. 128. [20] Simeon, _H. R._, pp. 216 f. [21] _Ibid._, pp. 217 f. APPENDIX C ARNULF OF CHOCQUES, CHAPLAIN OF ROBERT CURTHOSE Arnulf of Chocques, who went on the First Crusade with Robert Curthose and ended his dramatic career in 1118 as patriarch of Jerusalem, is a character of more than ordinary interest, and his provenance and early career are worthy of more careful investigation than they have yet received.[1] The foundation for such a study was laid in 1904, when, by the publication in a new and scholarly edition of a little-known text of the early twelfth century, entitled _Versus de Viris Illustribus Diocesis Tarvanensis_, the Belgian scholar Charles Moeller identified Arnulf’s birthplace as the village of Chocques in the diocese of Thérouanne on the river Clarence, an affluent of the Lys.[2] Thus Moeller returns to the view of the Flemish annalists Meyer and Malbrancq,[3] who manifestly knew and used this text; though modern writers upon the Crusades, overlooking it and relying mainly upon Albert of Aix,[4] have said that Arnulf was ‘of Rohes, a castle of Flanders,’ which no one has ever been able to identify.[5] If further evidence were needed to establish the correctness of Moeller’s conclusion, it is found in a charter of 15 August 1095 by Robert Curthose in favor of Rouen cathedral, among the witnesses to which appears “Ernulfo de Cioches capellano meo.”[6] This document is also important as confirming and supplementing the meagre notices of the chroniclers, on which one is compelled to rely almost entirely for all that is known about Arnulf of Chocques before he went on the Crusade and came into prominence and controversy. As to Arnulf’s family, practically nothing is known; though one may safely infer that he was of lowly origin from the speech which his friend and former pupil, Ralph of Caen, puts into his mouth when he makes him say to the princely leaders of the Crusade, “You have promoted me from a humble station, and from one unknown you have made me famous, and, as it were, one of yourselves.”[7] His enemies openly charged that he was the son of a priest;[8] and that their accusations were not without foundation is evidenced by a letter of Pope Pascal II, replying in 1116 to complaints which had been made against Arnulf, and reinstating him in the patriarchal office from which he had been suspended by the papal legate. While clearing him entirely from two of the charges which had been brought against him, the pope announced that the third complaint, viz., the general belief as to a stain upon his birth, was to be overlooked, ‘by apostolic dispensation,’ in view of Arnulf’s great services and of the needs of the church.[9] The statement sometimes made that Arnulf had a niece named Emma, or Emelota,[10] who figures in the charters of the Latin Kingdom,[11] and who was the wife, first of Eustace Gamier, lord of Caesarea, and then of Hugh II, count of Jaffa, appears to rest upon the sole authority of William of Tyre.[12] Considering the age in which he lived, Arnulf doubtless received an excellent education,[13] though where it is impossible to say; and while still a young man he appeared in Normandy as a teacher, presumably at Caen. Ralph of Caen, who later became the distinguished historian of the First Crusade, was among his pupils; and upon the completion of his great work, the _Gesta Tancredi_, dedicated it in grateful remembrance to his old master.[14] Far more important for Arnulf’s future, however, was the connection which he early established with the Anglo-Norman ruling family when he was made tutor in grammar and dialectic to the oldest daughter of William the Conqueror, Cecilia, the pious nun of La Trinité at Caen, who later became the second abbess of her mother’s great foundation.[15] It was probably through the friendship thus established with the royal princess that the Flemish schoolmaster succeeded in rising to higher things; for Cecilia is said to have obtained from her indulgent brother, Duke Robert, the promise of episcopal honors for Arnulf, in case any of the Norman bishoprics should fall vacant;[16] and while he never gained that preferment, it can hardly be doubted that it was through her influence that he entered the service of the duke as chaplain. The charter to which attention has been called above furnishes proof that Arnulf already held that position in August 1096 (_supra_, n. 6). But his official connection with the ducal court undoubtedly began at least a year earlier, for the contemporary biographer of Abbot William of Bec states very specifically that on, or shortly after, 10 August 1094 he went on an important official errand for the duke in the capacity of ‘chancellor.’[17] One other fact remains to be noticed as indicating Arnulf’s intimate relationship with another member of the Conqueror’s family. Although he was chaplain of the duke before and during the Crusade, he is said to have set out for the Holy War in the company of Robert’s uncle, Bishop Odo of Bayeux, who upon his death at Palermo, early in 1097, left him the greater part of his splendid outfit.[18] FOOTNOTES [1] New light has been thrown upon Arnulf’s career in Normandy by the publication of Professor Haskins’s _Norman Institutions_ (pp. 74-75) since this Appendix was originally written; but it seems worth while to let it stand with slight modifications, since it may still serve to bring together in convenient form all the known facts concerning Arnulf’s early history. For the fullest treatment of Arnulf’s career as a whole see Eduard Franz, _Das Patriarchat von Jerusalem im Jahre 1099_ (Sagen, 1885), pp. 8-16. See also the critical and bibliographical notes in Ekkehard, _Hierosolymita_, ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer (Tübingen, 1877), p. 264, n. 8; _G. F._, p. 481, n. 14; _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 409, n. 15; Fulcher of Chartres, _Historia Hierosolymitana (1095-1127)_, ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer (Heidelberg, 1913), p. 590, n. 24. [2] “Les Flamands du Ternois au royaume latin de Jérusalem,” in _Mélanges Paul Fredericq_ (Brussels, 1904), pp. 189-202. The decisive lines are (p. 191): Primus Evremarus sedit patriarcha Sepulchri; Post hunc Arnulfus: oriundus uterque Cyokes. [3] Jacques de Meyer, _Commentarii sive Annales Rerum Flandricarum_ (Antwerp, 1561), _a._ 1099, fol. 34 v; Jacques Malbrancq, _De Morinis et Morinorum Rebus_ (Tournay, 1639-54), ii, p. 684. [4] _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 470: “Arnolfus de Zokes castello Flandriae.” [5] E.g., Riant, Hagenmeyer, and Röhricht at various places in their well known works. Hagenmeyer in his recent edition (1913) of Fulcher of Chartres (p. 590, n. 24) accepts Moeller’s conclusion; but Bréhier, writing in 1907 (_L’église et l’Orient au moyen âge_, p. 83), still says “Arnoul de Rohez.” [6] Haskins, p. 70, no. 31; p. 74, n. 28. It is true that the text as printed from an original now lost has “Emulpho de Croches,” but this is probably a misreading for Cyoches or Cioches. G. A. de La Roque, _Histoire généalogique de la maison de Harcourt_ (Paris, 1662), iii, preuves, p. 34. [7] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 699. [8] Raymond of Aguilers, _ibid._, iii, p. 302; Guibert of Nogent, _ibid._, iv, p. 233; William of Tyre, _ibid._, i, p. 365. [9] _Cartulaire de l’église du Saint Sépulchre_, ed. Eugène de Rozière (Paris, 1849), no. 11. [10] Du Cange, _Les familles d’outre-mer_, ed. E.-G. Rey (Paris, 1869), pp. 274-275, 339, 431; T. W. Archer and C. L. Kingsford, _The Crusades_ (London, 1894), pp. 118,193. [11] Reinhold Röhricht, _Regesta Regni Hierosolymitani_, and _Additamentum_ (Innsbruck, 1893 and 1904), nos. 104, 112, 147, 102 a, 114 b. [12] _H. C. Oc._, i, p. 628. [13] Guibert of Nogent, _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 232: “in dialecticae eruditione non hebes, quum minime haberetur ad grammaticae documenta rudis”; Ralph of Caen, _ibid._, iii, p. 604: “nullius etenim liberalis scientiae te cognovimus exsortem”; cf. the interesting passage (_ibid._, iii, p. 665) where Arnulf is represented while on the Crusade as learning astrology from a ‘didascalus.’ The other sources, while not particularizing, bear unanimous testimony to Arnulf’s learning. Cf. _G. F._, pp. 479-480; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 281; Ekkehard, _Hierosolymita_, p. 264. [14] _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 604: “Praesertim mellita mihi erit quaecumque erit correctio tua, si, quem sortitus sum praeceptorem puer iuvenem, nunc quoque correctorem te impetravero vir senem.” [15] Guibert of Nogent, _ibid._, iv, p. 232: “regis Anglorum filiam monacham ea … diu disciplina docuerat.” Ordericus Vitalis (ii, p. 303), without mentioning any particular teacher, remarks upon Cecilia’s unusual education: “Quae cum grandi diligentia in coenobio Cadomensi educata est et multipliciter erudita.” [16] Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 232. [17] Milo Crispin, _Vita Venerabilis Willelmi Beccensis Tertii Abbatis_, in Migne, cl, col. 718. [18] Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 233: “Cuius comitatui idem Arnulfus sese indidit; et quum huic ipsi episcopo citra, nisi fallor, Romaniae fines finis obtigisset, ex illo maximo censu quem post se reliquerat, hunc legatarium, pene ante omnes, suppellectilis suae preciosae effecit.” APPENDIX D ROBERT’S COMPANIONS ON THE CRUSADE It cannot be said with certainty that every one who appears in the ensuing list actually went on the First Crusade with Robert Curthose. Since it was desired to make the list as complete as possible, doubtful names have been included and marked with an asterisk (*). The evidence is fully set forth in each case, so that no confusion can arise. 1. ALAN, “dapifer sacrae ecclesiae Dolensis archiepiscopi.” Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507. 2. ALAN FERGANT, duke of Brittany. His presence is recorded at the siege of Nicaea (Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 316) and at the siege of Antioch (Baldric of Dol, _ibid._, p. 50, n. 9, being the variant from MS. G). His absence from Brittany during the Crusade is indicated by his disappearance from the charters of the period. The latest document which I have noted in which he appears before his departure is dated 27 July 1096. _Cartulaire de l’ abbaye de Sainte-Croix de Quimperlé_, ed. Léon Maître and Paul de Berthou, 2d ed. (Paris, 1904), no. 82, pp. 234-235. He was back again in Brittany 9 October 1101, when he made grants in favor of the abbey of Marmoutier. P. H. Morice, _Mémoires pour servir de preuves à l’histoire ecclésiastique et civile de Bretagne_ (Paris, 1742-46), i, cols. 505, 507; cf. col. 504. 3. ALAN, son of Ralph de Gael. He was present with Robert at Nicaea, and advanced with him from there. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507. 4. ALBERIC OF GRANDMESNIL. Ordericus, iii, p. 484; cf. _supra_, p. 107, n. 88. 5. ANONYMOUS, engineer of Robert of Bellême: “ingeniosissimum artificem, … cuius ingeniosa sagacitas ad capiendam Ierusalem Christianis profecit.” Ordericus, iii, p. 415. 6. *ANONYMOUS, wife of Thurstin, _prévôt_ of Luc. See no. 44 _infra_. 7. *ANONYMOUS, son of Thurstin, _prévôt_ of Luc. See no. 44 _infra_. 8. ARNULF OF CHOCQUES, chaplain of Robert Curthose. Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 281, 302. Cf. Appendix C. 9. ARNULF OF HESDIN: “Ernulfus de Hednith,” who was accused of complicity in Robert Mowbray’s conspiracy, and cleared himself by a judicial duel; but “tanto dolore et ira est commotus, ut abdicatis omnibus quae regis erant in Anglia, ipso rege invito et contradicente, discederet; associatus autem Christianorum exercitui, Antiochiam usque devenit, ibique extremum diem clausit. Cumque ei infirmanti principes medicorum curam adhibere vellent, respondisse fertur, ‘Vincit Dominus quare medicus me non continget, nisi ille pro cuius amore hanc peregrinationem suscepi.’” _Chronicon_, in _Liber de Hyda_, pp. 301-302. Arnulf ceases to appear in charters from about the period of the First Crusade. Cf. Davis, _Regesta_, nos. 315, 319; Round, _C. D. F._, no. 1326. 10. *AUBRÉE LA GROSSE. See no. 20 _infra_. 11. BERNARD OF SAINT-VALERY. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507. Ralph of Caen credits him with having been the first to scale the wall of Jerusalem. _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 693. 12. CONAN DE LAMBALLE, second son of Geoffrey I, called Boterel, count of Lamballe. He was present with Robert at Nicaea and advanced with him from there. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 28, 33; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, p. 316; Ordericus, iii, pp. 503, 507. He was killed by the Turks at Antioch 9 February 1098. Ralph of Caen saw his tomb there years afterwards. _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 648. 13. EDITH, wife of Gerard of Gournay and sister of William of Warenne. Her husband died on the Crusade, and she returned and became the wife of Dreux de Monchy. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 277-278. 14. EMMA, wife of Ralph de Gael and daughter of William Fitz Osbern. She accompanied her husband on the Crusade. Ordericus, ii, p. 264; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 287. 15. ENGUERRAND, son of Count Hugh of Saint-Pol. He died at Marra in Syria. Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 372, 451; Raymond of Aguilers, _ibid._, iii, p. 276. 16. *EUSTACE III, count of Boulogne. It seems impossible to determine the route taken by Eustace of Boulogne on the First Crusade. According to the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_ (_a._ 1096), Henry of Huntingdon (p. 219), and Albert of Aix (_H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 314), he went with Robert Curthose; Baldric of Dol (_ibid._, p. 20), Ordericus Vitalis (iii, pp. 484-485), and Robert the Monk (_H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 732), on the other hand, all say that he went with his brother Godfrey of Bouillon. Cf. _G. F._, p. 465, n. 17. 17. FULCHER OF CHARTRES, historian of the Crusade. See the introduction to Hagenmeyer’s edition of the _Historia Hierosolymitana_. 18. GEOFFREY CHOTARD, one of the barons (_proceres_) of Ancenis: “anno dedicationis Maioris Monast. ab Urbano papa facte statim post Pascha, cum dominus abbas noster tunc temporis Bernardus rediret a Nanneto civitate per Ligerim, anno scilicet ordinationis sue .xiii. venit ad portum Ancenisi,” and Geoffrey Chotard, “post parum temporis iturus in Ierusalem cum exercitu Christianorum super paganos euntium,” came to him and granted to Saint-Martin freedom from customs on the Loire. P. H. Morice, _Preuves_, i, col. 488. 19. GERARD OF GOURNAY. Ordericus, iii, pp. 484, 507; Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 316; Baldric of Dol, _ibid._, p. 33. He was accompanied by his wife Edith, and died on the Crusade. _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, pp. 277-278. Cf. no. 13 _supra_. 20. *GILBERT, an architect (?). “Tunc Gislebertus, quidam laicus, de Ierusalem Rotomagum venit, et a praefato patre [i.e., Abbot Hilgot of Saint-Ouen, 1092-1112] ad monachatum susceptus, ecclesiae suae digniter profecit. Opus enim basilicae, quod iamdudum admiranda magnitudine intermissum fuerat, assumpsit; ibique pecuniam Alberadae Grossae, dominae suae, quae, in via Dei moriens, thesaurum ei suum commendaverat, largiter distraxit, et inde, aliorum quoque fidelium subsidiis adiutus, insigne opus perficere sategit.” Ordericus, iii, pp. 432-433. 21. GILBERT, bishop of Évreux. He was present at the council of Clermont as _legatus_ of his fellow bishops. Ordericus, iii, p. 470. He was with Bishop Odo of Bayeux at the time of the latter’s death at Palermo early in 1097. _Ibid._, iv, pp. 17-18; iii, p. 266. Cf. no. 29 _infra_. If Gilbert completed the Crusade, he must have returned from Jerusalem far more quickly than most of his comrades, for he was back in Normandy by the middle of November 1099. Ordericus, iv, p. 65; cf. v, pp. 159, 195-196. 22. *GUY, eldest son of Gerard le Duc. He received five _solidi_ from Saint-Vincent of Le Mans “cum pergeret ad Ierusalem cum Pagano de Monte Dublelli.” _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 666. The editors, without good reason, date the document “circa 1096.” Cf. no. 30 _infra_. 23. *GUY DE SARCÉ, a knight of Saint-Vincent of Le Mans. He surrendered his fief to the abbot and monks of Saint-Vincent, and received from them 20 _livres manceaux_ and 300 _solidi_. This was done in the chapter on 22 June 1096, “eo videlicet anno quo Urbanus papa adventu suo occiduas illustravit partes, quoque etiam innumerabiles turbas populorum admonitione sua, immo vero Dei suffragante auxilio, Ierosolimitanum iter super paganos adire monuit.” It is not improbable that Guy’s brothers, Nicholas and Pain, accompanied him on the Crusade. _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 317. This charter was witnessed, among others, by William de Braitel, who is no. 47 of our list _infra_. 24. *HAMO DE HUNA. He made a grant to Saint-Vincent of Le Mans on 29 July 1096; and “post non multum vero temporis … antequam Ierusalem iret quo tendere volebat,” he added another gift, and received from the monks 20 _solidi_. “Hoc actum fuit in domo monachorum apud Bazogers, in adventu Domini iv die ante natale Domini.” _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 460. This was 22 December, presumably of the year 1096. Hamo, therefore, did not accompany the other crusaders in the autumn, but he may very well have overtaken them in Italy the following spring. 25. HERVÉ, son of Dodeman. He is named among those who advanced with Robert after the capture of Nicaea. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507; cf. n. 6, _ibid._, where Le Prévost remarks that ‘Breton chronicles’ name Hervé, son of Guyomark, count of Léon, in place of Hervé, son of Dodeman. 26. HUGH II, count of Saint-Pol. He set out from Normandy with Robert in 1096. Ordericus, iii, p. 484. He was present at the siege of Nicaea, and advanced with Robert from there. _Ibid._, pp. 502-503, 507; Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 28, 33. He was present at the siege of Antioch. Albert of Aix, _ibid._, p. 372. 27. *INGELBAUDUS: “Ego Ingelbaudus illud Sepulchrum volo petere.” In view of the proposed journey he made various grants to Saint-Vincent of Le Mans. _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 101. The editors date the document “circa 1096,” but there are no chronological data. Most of the documents among which this appears are of the late eleventh century. 28. IVO OF GRANDMESNIL. Ordericus, iii, p. 484. Cf. _supra_, p. 107, n. 88. 29. ODO, bishop of Bayeux. He was present at the council of Clermont as _legatus_ of his fellow bishops. Ordericus, iii, p. 470. He was in touch with Abbot Gerento of Saint-Bénigne of Dijon, the Pope’s special agent, who was promoting the Crusade in Normandy during the summer of 1096. Haskins, pp. 75-76. But it seems probable that he undertook the Crusade rather to escape the wrath of William Rufus than from any religious zeal. Ordericus, iv, pp. 16-17. He died at Palermo, in February 1097 according to Ordericus Vitalis (_ibid._), though his obit was celebrated in Bayeux cathedral on Epiphany (6 January). Ulysse Chevalier, _Ordinaire et coutumier de l’église cathédrale de Bayeux_ (Paris, 1902), p. 410. He was buried by his fellow bishop, Gilbert of Évreux, in the cathedral church of St. Mary at Palermo, and Count Roger reared a splendid monument over his grave. Ordericus, iv, pp. 17-18; iii, p. 266; cf. Guibert of Nogent, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 233. Odo’s epitaph is published, from a late seventeenth century MS., by V. Bourrienne, in _Revue catholique de Normandie_, x, p. 276. 30. *PAIN DE MONDOUBLEAU. See the quotation from _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 666, in no. 22 _supra_. The editors accept this as convincing evidence that Pain de Mondoubleau went on the First Crusade, but in the absence of any definite date there is no proof. And indeed it seems hardly likely that we have to do here with the First Crusade, since in 1098, according to Ordericus Vitalis—who, however, is a very untrustworthy guide in matters of chronology—Pain was in Maine and handed over the castle of Ballon to William Rufus. Ordericus, iv, p. 47; cf. Latouche, _Maine_, p. 47; Auguste de Trémault, “Recherches sur les premiers seigneurs de Mondoubleau,” in _Bulletin de la Société archéologique du Vendômois_, xxv (1886), pp. 301-302. The latter mentions no evidence of Pain’s having gone on any crusade. 31. PAIN PEVEREL. The distinguished Norman knight who acted as Robert’s standard-bearer on the Crusade, and who upon his return was granted a barony in England by Henry I, and became the patron of Barnwell priory. He is described as “egregio militi, armis insigni, milicia pollenti, viribus potenti, et super omnes regni proceres bellico usu laudabili.” He endowed the church of Barnwell with notable relics which he brought back from the Holy Land: “reliquias verissimas super aurum et topazion preciosas, quas in expedicione Antiochena adquisierat cum Roberto Curthose, dum signiferi vicem gereret, necnon quas a patriarcha et rege et magnatibus illius terre impetraverat.” _Liber Memorandorum Ecclesie de Barnewelle_, ed. J. W. Clark (Cambridge, 1907), pp. 54, 55, 41, 46. According to the editor this anonymous work was written in its present form in 1295-96; the author had access to documents, and probably based his narrative on the work of an earlier writer (introduction, pp. ix-x, xiv). The part dealing with our period contains notable chronological inaccuracies, but for the fundamental facts of the life of Pain Peverel it may probably be relied upon. 32. PHILIP OF BELLÊME, called the Clerk, fifth son of Roger of Montgomery. He set out with Robert from Normandy in 1096, and died at Antioch. Ordericus, iii, pp. 483, 426. 33. *RAINERIUS DE POMERA. “Ista quae narravimus [i.e., the details of a miracle wrought by St. Nicholas of Bari] a quodam bono et fideli homine, nomine Rainerio, de villa quae dicitur Pomera, didicimus, qui haec vidit et audivit et iis omnibus praesens affuit, dum rediret de itinere Ierusalem.” _Miracula S. Nicolai conscripta a Monacho Beccensi_, in _Catalogus Codicum Hagiographicorum Latinorum in Bibliotheca Nationali Parisiensi_, ed. the Bollandists (Brussels, 1889-93), ii, p. 427. 34. RALPH DE GAEL. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 28, 38; Ordericus, iii, pp. 484, 503, 507; _Interpolations de Robert de Torigny_, in William of Jumièges, p. 287. Emma, his wife, and Alan, his son, went with him. Cf. nos. 14 and 3 _supra_. 35. RICHARD, son of Fulk, of Aunou-le-Faucon: “quidam miles, genere Normannicus, vocabulo Ricardus, filius Fulconis senioris de Alnou.” After the capture of Jerusalem he was saved from shipwreck off the Syrian coast through the miraculous interposition of St. Nicholas of Bari; and upon his return to Normandy he became a monk of Bec. _Miracula S. Nicolai conscripta a Monacho Beccensi_, in _Catalogus Codicum Hagiographicorum Latinorum in Bibliotheca Nationali Parisiensi_, ed. the Bollandists, ii, p. 429. On Fulk of Aunou, see Ordericus, ii, p. 75. 36. RIOU DE LOHÉAC. He died while on the Crusade, but sent back to Lohéac a casket of precious relics, among them a portion of the true Cross and a fragment of the Sepulchre: “Notum sit … quod Waulterius, Iudicaelis filius de Lohoac, quidam miles nobilissimus et illius castri princeps et dominus… Sancto Salvatori suisque monachis quoddam venerandum et honorabile sanctuarium, quod frater suus, videlicet Riocus, dum iret Hierosolyman, adquisierat, et post mortem suam, nam in itinere ipso obiit, per manum Simonis de Ludron sibi transmiserat, scilicet quandam particulam Dominicę; Crucis et de Sepulchro Domini et de cęteris Domini sanctuariis, cum maximis donariis quę subter scribentur, honorificę dedit et in perpetuum habere concessit.” These relics were placed in the church of Saint-Sauveur at Lohéac in the presence of a great concourse of clergy and people, among them being the famous Robert of Arbrissel, “quidam sanctissimus homo.” The document was attested, among others, by Walter and William, Riou’s brothers, and by Geoffrey his son, Gonnor his wife, and Simon de Ludron. “Hoc factum est in castello de Lohoac, iuxta ipsam aecclesiam monachorum, .iii. kal. Iul., in natali apostolorum Petri et Pauli, anno ab incarnatione Domini millesimo centesimo .i., luna .xxix., epacte .xviii., Alano comite existente, Iudicahele episcopatum Sancti Maclovii obtinente, et hoc donum cum suo archidiacono Rivallono annuente, data .vi. non. Iulii.” _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de Redon_, ed. Aurélien de Courson (Paris, 1863: _Documents inédits_), nos. 366, 367. Baldric of Dol names him among those who advanced with Robert from Nicaea. _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33. 37. ROBERT OF JERUSALEM, count of Flanders. One of the well known leaders, who was closely associated with Robert Curthose during most of the Crusade and who returned with him at least as far as southern Italy. See Chapter IV, _passim_. 38. *ROBERT THE VICAR (_vicarius_). Before he went to Jerusalem (_priusquam Ierusalem pergeret_) he made donations to Saint-Vincent of Le Mans—his wife, son, and brothers consenting—and received from Abbot Ranulf and the monks four _livres manceaux_. _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 522. The document is undated, but the mention of Abbot Ranulf places it between 1080 and 1106. The editors date it “circa 1096.” 39. ROGER OF BARNEVILLE. _G. F._, p. 185; Ordericus, iii, p. 503. He was captured and beheaded by the Turks at Antioch early in June 1098; and was buried amid great sorrow by his fellow crusaders in the church of St. Peter. _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 159; Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 252; Ordericus, iii, pp. 549, 538; Robert the Monk, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 808-809; Albert of Aix, _ibid._, iv, pp. 407-408. 40. ROTROU OF MORTAGNE II, son of Geoffrey II, count of Perche. His father died during his absence, having made provision for Rotrou to succeed him in the countship upon his return from the Crusade. Ordericus, iii, p. 483; v, p. 1. 41. SIMON DE LUDRON. It was he who brought back the relics which had been obtained by Riou de Lohéac while on the Crusade. See the extract from the Redon cartulary quoted in no. 36 _supra_. 42. STEPHEN, count of Aumale. He was one of the Norman rebels who had previously sided with William Rufus against Robert Curthose. Ordericus, iii, p. 475. But he was on friendly terms with the duke by 14 July 1096—doubtless as a result of the pacification which had been brought about by the Pope—since Robert attested a charter by Stephen on that date. _Gallia Christiana_, xi, instr., col. 20; cf. Haskins, p. 67, no. 5. Stephen also attested a charter by the duke in 1096. Archives de la Seine-Inférieure, G 4069 (_Inventaire sommaire_, iii, p. 255). Albert of Aix records his presence at Nicaea; and Ralph of Caen names him among those who at Antioch were obligated to Robert Curthose by gifts or homage. _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 316; iii, p. 642. 43. STEPHEN, count of Blois and Chartres. One of the well known leaders of the Crusade. He was closely associated with Robert Curthose at least as far as Nicaea. He became faint-hearted and turned back home after the expedition had reached Antioch. See Chapter IV, _passim_. 44. *THURSTIN, son of Turgis, _prévot_ of Luc-sur-Mer. In 1096 he pledged his allod (_alodium_) of forty acres at Luc for four marks and a mount (_equitatura_): “si ipse Turstinus aut uxor eius vel filius post vi annos rediret, redderet Sancto Stephano ad finem vi annorum iiiiᵒʳ argenti marcas.” Probably the Crusade was in contemplation, though it is not specifically mentioned. R. Génestal, _Rôle des monastères comme établissements de crédit_ (Paris, 1901), p. 215; cf. pp. 29-30. 45. WALTER OF SAINT-VALERY. Ordericus, iii, pp. 483, 507; Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33. 46. WIGO DE MARRA, a crusader from Perche. “Rediens a Ierosolimitano itinere, tempore profectionis communis Aquilonensium et Occidentalium,” he passed through Tours; and while he rested there with the monks of Saint-Julien, he gave them his church at Bellou-sur-Huîne, a gift which he afterwards confirmed upon reaching home. _Chartes de S.-Julien de Tours_, no. 51. The document is dated 1099, “regnante Willelmo rege Anglorum et duce Normannorum,” and is of special interest as indicating the early date at which some of the crusaders got back to western Europe. 47. *WILLIAM DE BRAITEL (en Lombron), son of Geoffrey the _vicomte_. With the consent of his brothers he made a donation to Saint-Vincent of Le Mans in 1096, “eo videlicet anno quo papa Urbanus occidentales partes presentia sua illustravit.” _Cartulaire de S.-Vincent_, no. 738. The similarity of dating between this charter and no. 317 of the same cartulary (cf. no. 23 _supra_), as well as the fact that many of the witnesses are identical in both, makes it seem not improbable that they were drawn up on the same occasion. If William actually went on the First Crusade, his return appears to have been delayed until 1116. In that year a precious relic which he brought back from Jerusalem for Adam, a Manceau who had become a canon of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, was presented to the cathedral church of Le Mans. _Actus Pontificum_, p. 407. Cf. Samuel Menjot d’Elbenne, _Les sires de Braitel au Maine du XIᵉ au XIIIᵉ siècle_ (Mamers, 1876), p. 38. 48. WILLIAM, son of Ranulf de Briquessart, _vicomte_ of Bayeux. He is named among those who advanced with Robert from Nicaea. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507. 49. *WILLIAM DE COLOMBIÈRES. On 7 June 1103 Henry de Colombières granted to Saint-Martin of Troarn “all that his father William had given and granted before he went on crusade (_Ierosolimam pergeret_).” Round, _C. D. F._, no. 471. 50. WILLIAM DE FERRIÈRES. He is named among those who advanced with Robert from Nicaea. Baldric of Dol, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 33; Ordericus, iii, p. 507. 51. WILLIAM DE PERCY, benefactor of Whitby abbey. He died while on the Crusade. “Denique nobilissimus Willielmus de Perci Ierosolimam petens, apud locum qui vocatur Mons Gaudii, qui est in provincia Ierosolimitana, migravit ad Dominum, ibique honorifice sepultus est.” _Cartularium Abbathiae de Whiteby_, ed. J. C. Atkinson (Durham, 1879-81), i, p. 2. The quotation is from the “Memorial of Benefactions,” which, according to the editor, was written in the second half of the twelfth century, certainly before 1180. It is probably only a legend that William’s heart was brought back and buried at Whitby abbey. His son had evidently succeeded him by 6 January 1100. Davis, _Regesta_, no. 427. 52. WILLIAM DU VAST. On 9 September 1096, “vadens in Ierusalem,” he pledged his land to the abbey of Fécamp for a loan of three marks until his return. Léopold Delisle, _Littérature latine et histoire du moyen âge_ (Paris, 1890), pp. 28-29. APPENDIX E LAODICEA AND THE FIRST CRUSADE Laodicea, as a commodious port on the Syrian coast directly opposite the fertile island of Cyprus, was a maritime base of the utmost importance to the crusaders, and it has a special interest for the life of Robert Curthose. Its history during the period of the First Crusade is obscure, and it may be admitted at the outset that it will not be possible to elucidate it entirely from such meagre and contradictory materials as have survived. Nevertheless, the problems are by no means hopeless; and the sources, such as they are, are worthy of a more careful and critical examination than they have yet received.[1] From the oriental sources it seems reasonably certain that during the period immediately preceding the arrival of the crusaders in Syria Laodicea was in the hands of the Turks. Previous to 1086 it had belonged to the Munkidhites of Shaizar;[2] but it passed from their hands into the possession of Malik-Shah when in that year he established himself at Aleppo.[3] Malik-Shah granted it to Kasim ed-daula Aksonkor, who held it until his death in 1094.[4] There is no evidence that it passed out of Turkish control between this date and the arrival of the crusaders and their associates from the West in 1097; and, in view of the precarious situation of the Eastern Empire and the preoccupation of the Greek Emperor with other problems during this period, there seems to be no ground for such a supposition. According to Kemal ed-Din—who wrote towards the middle of the thirteenth century, and whose statement would perhaps deserve little consideration were it not so specific—a fleet of twenty-two ships came from Cyprus on the 8th of the month of Ramadan in the year 490 of the Hegira (19 August 1097), entered the port of Laodicea, pillaged the town, and carried off all the merchandise.[5] The western sources dealing with Laodicea in 1097-98 are numerous; but at some points they are contradictory, and at best they yield but scanty information. It will be well to analyze them separately with some care:— (1) The letter of Anselm de Ribemont to Archbishop Manasses of Rheims, written from Antioch near the end of November 1097, states definitely that Laodicea had been taken—evidently by some one acting in the interest of the crusaders, and pretty clearly before the arrival of the land forces at Antioch on 21 October 1097.[6] This statement is confirmed by the anonymous _Florinensis Brevis Narratio Belli Sacri_,[7] as it is also by the account of Raymond of Aguilers. (2) Raymond of Aguilers, who, because of his actual presence in Syria and his close association with the count of Toulouse, is by all odds the best and most reliable chronicler dealing with the events now under consideration, seems to have received but little attention from modern scholars in this connection. According to his account, which is quite full, English mariners, who were fired with enthusiasm for the Crusade, sailed via Gibraltar to the eastern Mediterranean, and with much labor obtained possession of the port of Antioch (evidently Port St. Simeon is meant) and of Laodicea before the arrival of the land forces. And during the siege of Antioch, together with the Genoese, they rendered important services to the crusaders by means of their fleet, keeping open commercial intercourse with Cyprus and other islands, and in particular protecting the ships of the Greeks from attack by the Saracens. Finally, when the crusaders were about to advance from Syria upon Jerusalem, the English, finding that their ships had been reduced by wear and tear from thirty to nine or ten, abandoned them or burned them, and joined the land forces on the southward march.[8] Now, of the actual presence of English mariners on the Syrian coast acting in coöperation with the crusaders, there can be no doubt. Apart from the foregoing narrative, the fact is proved beyond question (_a_) by the well known letter of the clergy and people of Lucca in which they state that their citizen Bruno had journeyed from Italy to Antioch “with English ships,” had taken part in the siege, and had stayed on for three weeks after the victory;[9] and (_b_) by the letter of Patriarch Dagobert, written from Jerusalem in the spring of 1100, which mentions the presence of English ships, apparently at Jaffa.[10] While the English ships referred to in these letters are not necessarily, or even probably, identical with those mentioned by Raymond of Aguilers, the letters are still of great importance as demonstrating the general fact of the presence and activity of English mariners at this period in these distant waters. As will appear below, Raymond’s account receives some further confirmation from Ordericus Vitalis and from Ralph of Caen. (3) The narrative of Ordericus differs widely from that of Raymond of Aguilers. According to him, at the time when the Christians were themselves being besieged at Antioch (6-28 June 1098), a great number of pilgrims from England and other islands of the ocean landed at Laodicea and were joyfully welcomed by the inhabitants, who accepted their protection against the Turks. The chief among these pilgrims was Edgar Atheling.[11] Taking Laodicea under his protection, Edgar afterwards handed it over to Robert Curthose, whom he loved as a brother. Thus Robert gained possession of Laodicea, and came and dwelt there for some time with Normans, English, and Bretons. Then, leaving his own garrison in the fortresses, Robert pursued his way to Jerusalem. But meanwhile Ravendinos, protospatharius of Emperor Alexius, and other Greek officers came with an expedition by sea, and laid siege to Laodicea; and the citizens, sympathizing with the Greeks, their compatriots, expelled the men from beyond the Alps and admitted imperial governors.[12] William of Malmesbury is the only other writer who mentions a journey of Edgar Atheling to the Holy Land, and his account is very different from that of Ordericus Vitalis. He makes no mention of English mariners, and he places Edgar’s arrival in the East, in company with a certain Robert, son of Godwin, at the time of the siege of Ramleh by the Saracens (May 1102).[13] (4) Raymond of Aguilers is authority for the statement that Robert was absent from Antioch in the third month of the siege, apparently about Christmas 1097.[14] A fuller explanation of this absence seems to be supplied by Ralph of Caen, who says that Robert, disgusted with the tedium of the siege, withdrew to Laodicea in the hope of ruling there; for the English at that time were holding it for the Emperor, and being menaced by a wandering band, had called in Robert as their protector. Robert accordingly went to Laodicea and gave himself up to idleness and sleep. Yet he was not altogether useless, for, having come upon opulence, he shared it generously with his needy comrades at the siege. Laodicea was then the only city on the Syrian coast which was Christian and which obeyed the Emperor; and Cyprus had filled it with an abundance of wine, grain, and cattle. Robert was very loath to turn his back upon such ease and plenty; and it was only after he had been thrice summoned, and even threatened with excommunication, that he reluctantly yielded to the entreaties of his comrades and returned to the hardships of the siege.[15] From the place which this incident occupies in Ralph’s general narrative one would judge that it belongs to the spring of 1098; but he does not date it exactly, and his chronology at best is confused and by no means trustworthy. It may be conjectured that this account is to be connected with the above mentioned briefer but more trustworthy statement of Raymond of Aguilers, thus placing the episode in the winter of 1097-98. Ralph’s chronology is not to be regarded as impossible, however, since there is no record of Robert’s presence at Antioch between 9 February and the end of May, or even the first of June, and he may very well have enjoyed more than one sojourn in Laodicea. Further evidence of the duke’s connection with Laodicea is found in a curious statement of Guibert of Nogent that Robert had once held it, but that when the citizens were unable to bear his excessive exactions, they drove his garrison from the fortresses and threw off his domination, and out of hatred abjured the use of the money of Rouen.[16] Finally, the twelfth-century poet Gilo remarks that English victors gave Laodicea to the Norman count.[17] (5) The problem of Laodicea in its relation to the First Crusade is still further complicated by a statement of Anna Comnena that the Emperor wrote—she gives no date—to Raymond of Toulouse, directing him to hand over the city to Andronicus Tzintzilucas, and that Raymond obeyed.[18] Both Riant[19] and Chalandon[20] accept this statement and assign the Emperor’s letter to the first half of 1099. Their reason for so doing appears to be found in the strange narrative of Albert of Aix, which is unique among the sources. (6) According to Albert of Aix, while Baldwin and Tancred were at Tarsus on the way to Antioch (_circa_ September 1097) a strange fleet approached the Cilician coast. It proved to be made up of ‘Christian pirates’ from “Flanders, Antwerp, Frisia, and other parts of Gaul [_sic_],” who under their commander, a certain Guinemer of Boulogne, had been pursuing their calling for the past eight years. But when they learned of the Crusade, they concluded a treaty with Baldwin, and, landing, joined forces with him and advanced as far as Mamistra. But here they turned back, and, reëmbarking, sailed away to Laodicea, which they besieged and took. Then resting there in the enjoyment of ease and plenty, they sent no aid to their Christian brothers at Antioch. But presently they were attacked and cut to pieces by ‘Turcopoles’[21] and men of the Emperor, who recovered the citadel and threw Guinemer into prison, Godfrey and the other chiefs at Antioch being ignorant of the whole affair. Later Guinemer was released at the request of Godfrey.[22] Elsewhere Albert sets forth another version of these curious events. Guinemer and his pirates, he tells us, had assembled their fleet in conjunction with the Provençaux of the land of Saint-Gilles under the dominion of Count Raymond.[23] Then, sailing to Laodicea, they had taken it and driven out the Turks and Saracens whom they found there. Then, after the siege of Antioch, they had handed their prize over to Count Raymond. Still later, Guinemer, the master of the pirates, had been captured by the Greeks, and after long imprisonment had been released through the intervention of Duke Godfrey. Then, when the advance to Jerusalem had been decided upon, Raymond had restored Laodicea to the Emperor, and so kept his faith inviolably.[24] Thus, if we could rely upon Albert of Aix, Laodicea came into the hands of the count of Toulouse after the siege of Antioch, and Alexius might naturally be expected to write him demanding its restoration to the Empire, as Riant and Chalandon suppose in accepting the above mentioned statement of Anna Comnena regarding the Emperor’s letter. It should be noted, however, that from Albert’s statement that Raymond handed over Laodicea to Alexius when the advance to Jerusalem had been decided upon,[25] it follows that the transfer could not have taken place later than 16 January 1099, the date on which Raymond moved southward from Kafartab;[26] whereas Chalandon has shown that the letter of which Anna speaks cannot be earlier than March 1099.[27] Albert of Aix and Anna Comnena, therefore, are not mutually confirmatory. (7) Finally, note should be taken of the statement of Cafaro of Genoa—who passed the winter of 1100-01 at Laodicea, but who wrote as an old man years afterwards—that, at the time of the capture of Antioch by the crusaders, Laodicea with its fortresses was held by the Emperor, and was under the immediate command of Eumathios Philocales, duke of Cyprus.[28] So much for an analysis of the sources. It remains to consider what conclusions may reasonably be drawn from them. And since the efforts which have been made to accept them all as of equal validity and to bring them into reconciliation have plainly not been successful, it will be well to begin with a consideration of some things which must probably be eliminated. And first, it seems clear that the account of Ordericus Vitalis, which represents Edgar Atheling as landing at Laodicea between 6 and 28 June 1098 at the head of a great body of English pilgrims, cannot be accepted without serious modification; for we know from reliable English sources that towards the end of 1097 Edgar was engaged in Scotland, assisting his kinsman, another Edgar,[29] to obtain the Scottish throne;[30] and it would, it seems, have been impossible for him to have made the necessary preparations for a crusade and to have journeyed from Scotland to Laodicea within the limitations of time which our sources impose. It is perhaps conceivable that he should have made a hurried trip to Italy in the winter of 1097-98 with a small band of attendants, and sailing from there, have reached the Syrian coast by June. But according to Ordericus he arrived at the head of “almost 20,000 pilgrims … from England and other islands of the ocean.” Further, if the account of Ordericus were to be brought into chronological accord with the other sources which deal with Robert’s sojourn at Laodicea, the arrival of Edgar Atheling would probably have to be placed several months earlier, indeed, in the early winter of 1097-98, almost at the very time he is known to have been in Scotland. The chronology of Ordericus, therefore—which in general is notoriously unreliable—seems at this point unacceptable; and William of Malmesbury, who places Edgar’s arrival in the East in May 1102, appears to give the necessary correction. In view of the testimony of both Ordericus Vitalis and William of Malmesbury, it can hardly be doubted that Edgar Atheling actually went to the Holy Land; but that he reached Laodicea in time to have anything to do with the calling in of Robert Curthose seems highly improbable, if not impossible. The tale of Guinemer of Boulogne and his fleet of Christian pirates, as told by Albert of Aix, must also meet with rougher handling than it has yet received, and for the following reasons: (1) The description of this fleet with its “masts of wondrous height, covered with purest gold, and refulgent in the sunlight”[31] is not such as to inspire confidence, particularly in such a writer as Albert of Aix, where one expects at any time to meet with the use of untrustworthy poetical materials. (2) As the narrative proceeds it becomes self-contradictory. At one point we are told that Guinemer was captured by the Greeks during the siege of Antioch, whereas at another he seems to have held Laodicea throughout the siege—since he turned it over to Count Raymond after the siege—; and his capture and imprisonment by the Greeks are placed still later. (3) Albert of Aix is in direct contradiction with Raymond of Aguilers, the best of all our authorities, who tells us that the English held Laodicea during the whole of the siege of Antioch and rendered important services to the crusaders; whereas, according to Albert’s account, Guinemer and his pirates held it and refused to aid the crusaders. (4) Not a scrap of evidence concerning Guinemer and his pirates has come to light in any source except Albert of Aix—unless perchance their fleet is to be identified with the ships which, according to Kemal ed-Din, came from Cyprus 19 August 1097, pillaged Laodicea, and sailed away;[32] and this seems unlikely. (5) In any case, outside the pages of Albert of Aix, evidence is lacking that such a piratical fleet held Laodicea for any considerable period; and apparently the only reason why Riant and Chalandon have accepted this fantastical tale of Guinemer and the Christian pirates is the fancied possibility of connecting it with the letter which, according to Anna Comnena, the Emperor wrote at an undetermined date to Raymond of Toulouse, directing him to hand over Laodicea to Andronicus Tzintzilucas. But Riant and Chalandon have somewhat arbitrarily assigned this letter to the first half of 1099. If Raymond was directed to hand Laodicea over, he must have possessed it. Therefore, so the argument seems to run, the Guinemer episode should be accepted as explaining how Raymond came into possession of Laodicea. But, as has already been pointed out, this explanation involves a serious chronological inconsistency. Further, the evidence is not conclusive that the letter ever existed—it rests upon the sole statement of Anna Comnena—and, if it did exist, it may with more reason, and with less violence to Anna’s chronology, be assigned to the period between September 1099 and June 1100, when Raymond is known to have been in possession of Laodicea and on terms of close understanding with the Emperor.[33] The foregoing considerations are not, it may be conceded, sufficient to prove that there is no shadow of truth in the tale of Guinemer and the pirates; but they do constitute a strong case against the narrative as it stands, and suggest the probability that it is one of the strange pieces of fiction occasionally to be met with in the pages of Albert of Aix. Having now somewhat cleared the ground, it is possible to set forth the probable course of events at Laodicea on the basis of the more reliable sources. There can be little doubt that Laodicea had already been taken from the Turks when the crusaders arrived at Antioch, 21 October 1097;[34] and we may accept without question the statement of Raymond of Aguilers—which Riant and Chalandon appear to ignore without reason—that it was taken by the English, who had come by sea, and who held it during the siege of Antioch and assisted the land forces by protecting commerce and keeping communications open with Cyprus and the other islands. These English mariners were unquestionably acting in coöperation with the Emperor,[35] who at this time, as Chalandon has shown, was supporting the crusaders in accordance with his treaty obligations.[36] At some time during the siege of Antioch by the Christians Robert Curthose was called to Laodicea by the English—probably because of dangers on the landward side which made their situation there precarious—and he remained there for a time, in the enjoyment of ease and plenty, until he was obliged by repeated summonses and by a threat of ecclesiastical censure to return to Antioch.[37] The date of Robert’s sojourn at Laodicea cannot be determined with certainty, but it may probably be assigned to December-January 1097-98,[38] 8 February being the extreme limit for his return to the siege.[39] Yet there is no record of his presence at Antioch between 9 February and the beginning of June, or between the end of June and 11 September; and the possibility of his having paid more than one visit to Laodicea must be recognized. The accounts of Ralph of Caen and of Ordericus Vitalis, interpreted strictly, point to sojourns in the spring and in the summer of 1098; but the chronology of these authors is not trustworthy, and it is not unlikely that they have fallen into inaccuracies here, and that they really refer to Robert’s earlier sojourn at Laodicea, for which we have the indirect but more reliable evidence of Raymond of Aguilers. The arrangements which were made at Laodicea upon Robert’s final departure before his advance to Jerusalem must remain a matter of doubt. According to Ordericus Vitalis and Guibert of Nogent he left a garrison, which was later driven out by the citizens. Guibert is curiously circumstantial. He says that the citizens, unable to bear the duke’s excessive exactions, drove his men from the citadel, threw off his domination, and abjured the use of the money of Rouen. But this incident is confirmed by none of the early writers who were in the East; and in the absence of any other evidence of Robert’s having attempted to secure for himself a private possession in Syria, we may well wonder whether Guibert and Ordericus have not blundered through a misunderstanding of the actual situation in the East and of the spirit in which Robert undertook the Crusade. Finally, what is to be said of the statement of Cafaro of Genoa that, at the time of the capture of Antioch by the crusaders, Laodicea was under the rule of Eumathios Philocales, duke of Cyprus? It would not be surprising if Cafaro, writing long after the event, should be mistaken on a point of this kind; yet he is by no means to be ignored, and on the whole his account does not seem inconsistent with established facts. The sojourn of Robert Curthose at Laodicea was apparently a passing episode rather than a lasting occupation. But throughout the period under consideration the Syrian port was clearly in the hands of crusaders, mainly English mariners, who were acting in coöperation with the Greeks. Under existing treaty obligations the place might fairly be regarded as a Greek possession from the moment the Turks were expelled[40]—unless there were a Bohemond or some other like-minded chief to seize and hold it in defiance of imperial rights. And the Emperor would most naturally delegate authority over Laodicea to the head of his administration in Cyprus. From the Greek standpoint, therefore, it might well be regarded as subject to Eumathios Philocales, though actually held by the Emperor’s allies, the crusaders. Between the departure of the crusaders from northern Syria early in 1099 and their return in September after the capture of Jerusalem, Laodicea seems to have become definitely a Greek possession; but whether there was any violent expulsion of the garrison of a crusading chief, as Ordericus and Guibert suppose, or any formal transfer,[41] must remain uncertain. When the crusaders moved southward from northern Syria to Jerusalem, their influence at Laodicea must, it seems, inevitably have declined, while that of the Greeks increased; and without any formal transfer it is conceivable that the place might gradually and almost imperceptibly have passed under full Greek control. But for this later period there are some further scattered notices in the chronicles of Albert of Aix and of Raymond of Aguilers and in the anonymous _Gesta Francorum_, which must now be considered, and which make it clear that at this time Laodicea was still in Christian hands and served as a most important base for the further prosecution of the Crusade. Albert of Aix, who is the fullest and most specific, explains that the crusaders still remaining in Syria gathered in council at Antioch on 2 February 1099, and, determining upon an advance to Jerusalem, fixed 1 March as the date for a general rendezvous of all the forces at Laodicea, a city which was then under Christian dominion.[42] Pursuant to this decision, Godfrey, Robert of Flanders, and Bohemond assembled their forces at Laodicea on the appointed day. And from Laodicea Godfrey and Robert moved on southward to the siege of Jebeleh; but Bohemond, ever suspicious and anxious lest through some fraud he should lose a city which was ‘impregnable by human strength,’ returned to Antioch.[43] This very specific account of Albert of Aix is confirmed by the much briefer statements of the _Gesta Francorum_, which record the meeting of the leaders at Laodicea, the advance of Godfrey and the count of Flanders to the siege of Jebeleh, and the return of Bohemond to Antioch.[44] It is also clear from Raymond of Aguilers that in the spring and summer of 1099—at least until June—the port of Laodicea was open to the ships of the Greeks, Venetians, and Genoese who were engaged in provisioning the crusaders at Arka and at Jerusalem.[45] There can be little doubt, therefore, that until June 1099, Laodicea was held in the interest of the crusaders, and that its harbor was open to the ships of Greeks and Italians without distinction. Albert of Aix nowhere explains what he means when he says that Laodicea was “under Christian dominion”; but, in the absence of valid evidence of its retention by any of the crusading chiefs, or by the fleet of any Italian city, the most reasonable hypothesis appears to be that it was held by the Greeks in the interest of the common enterprise. We get our next information concerning Laodicea when, in September 1099, Robert Curthose, Robert of Flanders, and Raymond of Toulouse, upon their return from Jerusalem, found the place undergoing a prolonged siege at the hands of Bohemond, who was assisted in his nefarious enterprise by a fleet of Pisans and Genoese.[46] Since the early summer, when ships of Genoese, Venetians, and Greeks had all enjoyed free entry to the port, a complete change had come over the situation at Laodicea.[47] What had happened to produce this? As is well known, it was the fixed policy of the Emperor to turn the Crusade to his own advantage, and to utilize the efforts of the Franks for the recovery of the lost provinces which had formerly belonged to the Greek Empire in Asia. To this end, he had been on the whole successful in coöperating with the crusaders. But in Bohemond of Taranto he had encountered opposition from the beginning; and, since the capture of Antioch by the crusaders, it had been the little disguised policy of this crafty and ambitious leader to hold it for himself, and to make it the capital and centre around which he hoped to build up a Norman state in Syria. It was, of course, inevitable that the Emperor should set himself to thwart such plans by every means at his disposal; and when the departure of the main body of the crusaders for Jerusalem left Bohemond with a free hand in the north, open hostilities became imminent. Undoubtedly foreseeing what was to come, Bohemond had separated from Godfrey and Robert of Flanders at Laodicea in March, and had returned to Antioch to mature his plans.[48] A few weeks later, ambassadors from the Emperor arrived in the crusaders’ camp at Arka and lodged a complaint against Bohemond.[49] But the Emperor was in no position to take vigorous measures at that time. Such a course might even have endangered his friendly relations with the other leaders. But neither was Bohemond in a position to resort to an overt act against Laodicea so long as he was powerless to meet the imperial fleet at sea. In the late summer of 1099, however, all this was changed by the arrival of a Pisan fleet under the command of Dagobert, archbishop of Pisa; for Bohemond, with true Norman adaptability and shrewdness, came to an understanding with the Pisans and secured their aid for an attack upon Laodicea.[50] And with this, the slight naval supremacy which the Greek Emperor had been vainly striving to maintain in the eastern Mediterranean came to an end.[51] Such was the situation at Laodicea when in September 1099 Robert Curthose and the counts of Flanders and Toulouse arrived at Jebeleh on their way home from the Crusade. The siege had already been going on for some time and was making progress. The place seemed to be on the point of falling.[52] But never were the plans of Bohemond to end in more egregious failure. His unprovoked attack upon a friendly city which had rendered important services to the crusaders roused the indignation and jealousy of the returning leaders. The archbishop of Pisa suddenly discovered that he had been led into a false position by the crafty Norman, and, deserting Bohemond, he threw his powerful influence on the side of Raymond, Robert Curthose, and Robert of Flanders. The Greeks too, who, though hard pressed, were still holding out, well understood that Bohemond was their real enemy and that it behooved them to make terms quickly with the leaders who had kept faith with the Emperor. Accordingly, an agreement was promptly reached among the Pisans, the Laodiceans, and the returning leaders. An ultimatum was despatched to Bohemond demanding that he withdraw forthwith; and thus suddenly confronted with superior force, he had no choice but to yield. Wrathfully he retired under the cover of darkness; and next morning Robert Curthose and the counts of Flanders and Toulouse entered Laodicea with their forces, and were enthusiastically welcomed by the inhabitants.[53] Count Raymond placed a strong garrison in the citadel, and raising his banner over the highest tower, took possession of the city[54]—in the Emperor’s name, it may be supposed, since by this time he clearly had an understanding with Alexius.[55] A few days later he met Bohemond outside the city and concluded peace.[56] After a fortnight’s sojourn at Laodicea the two Roberts and a large number of humbler crusaders took ship and proceeded on their homeward way. But Raymond, still suspicious of the prince of Antioch, remained to keep a close guard upon Laodicea and Tortosa until the following summer, when he went to Constantinople and entered the Emperor’s service.[57] FOOTNOTES [1] In general on Laodicea and the First Crusade see Riant, _Scandinaves en Terre Sainte_, pp. 132 ff.; Chalandon, _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, pp. 210 ff.; Röhricht, _Geschichte des ersten Kreuzzuges_, pp. 205-207. [2] Usama ibn Munkidh, _Autobiographie_, French translation by Hartwig Derenbourg (Paris, 1895), p. 107. [3] Ibn el-Athir, _Histoire des Atabecs de Mosul_, in _H. C. Or._, ii, 2, p. 17. [4] _Ibid._ [5] _Chronique d’Alep_, _ibid._, iii, p. 578. There is possibly some confirmation of this in the following statement of Cafaro of Genoa: “In tempore enim captionis Antiochiae arma manebat [Laodicea], nisi ecclesia episcopalis ubi clerici morabantur.” _Annales Genuenses_, in _H. C. Oc._, v, p. 66. [6] “XII Kalendas Novembris Antiochiam obsedimus, iamque vicinas civitates Tharsum et Laodiciam multasque alias vi cepimus.” _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 145. [7] _H. C. Oc._, v, p. 371. [8] “Sed antequam ad reliqua perveniamus, de his praetermittere non debemus qui, pro amore sanctissimae expeditionis, per ignota et longissima aequora Mediterranei et Oceani navigare non dubitaverunt. Etenim Angli, audito nomine ultionis Domini in eos qui terram Nativitatis Iesu Christi et apostolorum eius indigne occupaverant, ingressi mare Anglicum, et circinata Hispania, transfretantes per mare Oceanum, atque sic Mediterraneum mare sulcantes, portum Antiochiae atque civitatem Laodiciae, antequam exercitus noster per terram illuc veniret, laboriose obtinuerunt. Profuerunt nobis eo tempore tam istorum naves, quam et Genuensium. Habebamus enim ad obsidionem, per istas naves et per securitatem eorum, commercia a Cypro insula et a reliquis insulis. Quippe hae naves quotidie discurrebant per mare, et ob ea Graecorum naves securae erant, quia Sarraceni eis incurrere formidabant. Quum vero Angli illi vidissent exercitum proficisci in Iherusalem, et robor suarum navium a longinquitate temporis imminutum, quippe quum usque ad triginta in principio naves habuissent, modo vix decem vel novem habere poterant, alii dimissis navibus suis et expositis, alii autem incensis, nobiscum iter acceleraverunt.” _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 290-291. [9] “Civis quidam noster, Brunus nomine, … cum Anglorum navibus ad ipsam usque pervenit Antiochiam.” _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 165. The letter contains a number of chronological data, from which it is clear that Bruno set out from Italy in 1097 and that he arrived in Syria shortly before 5 March 1098. Hagenmeyer reasons plausibly that he landed at Port St. Simeon on 4 March 1098. [10] _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 177. [11] Grandson of Edmund Ironside, and claimant to the English throne upon the death of Harold in 1066. [12] Ordericus, iv, pp. 70-71. [13] _G. R._, ii, p. 310; cf. p. 449. Davis—who by a slip of the pen names him Baldwin—places this Robert among the native Englishmen who joined Robert Curthose at Laodicea. _Normans and Angevins_, p. 100. But William of Malmesbury, who is the sole authority, makes no mention of him before the siege of Ramleh. Freeman is more careful. _William Rufus_, ii, p. 122. [14] “Normanniae comes ea tempore [i.e., in tertio mense obsidionis] aberat.” _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 243. [15] “Abscesserant interea ex castris, exosi taedia, comites, Blesensis in Cyliciam, Laodiciam Normannus; Blesensis Tharsum ob remedium egestatis, Normannus ad Anglos spe dominationis. Angli ea tempestate Laodiciam tenebant, missi ab imperatore tutela; cuius fines vagus populabatur exercitus, ipsam quoque cum violentia irrumpere tentantes. In hac formidine Angli assertorem vocant praescriptum comitem, consilium fidele ac prudens. Fidei fuit fidelem domino suo virum, cui se manciparent, asciscere; iugo Normannico se subtraxerant, denuo subdunt, hoc prudentiae: gentis illius fidem experti et munera, facile redeunt unde exierant. Igitur Normannus comes, ingressus Laodiciam, somno vacabat et otio; nec inutilis tamen, dum opulentiam nactus, aliis indigentibus large erogabat: quoniam conserva Cyprus baccho, cerere, et multo pecore abundans Laodiciam repleverat, quippe indigentem, vicinam, Christicolam et quasi collacteam: ipsa namque una in littore Syro et Christum colebat, et Alexio serviebat. Sed nec sic excusato otio, praedictus comes frustra semel atque iterum ad castra revocatur; tertio, sub anathemate accitus, redit invitus: difficilem enim habebat transitum commeatio, quam comiti ministrare Laodicia veniens debebat.” _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 649. [16] _Ibid._, iv, p. 254. [17] _Ibid._, v, p. 742. [18] _H. C. G._, i, p. 66. [19] “Inventaire critique des lettres historiques des croisades,” in _Archives de l’Orient latin_, i, pp. 189-191. [20] _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, pp. 208-212. [21] Turcopoles are defined by Albert as “gens impia et dicta Christiana nomine, non opere, qui ex Turco patre et Graeca matre procreati [sunt].” _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 434. [22] _Ibid._, pp. 348-349, 380, 447. [23] “Hi collectione navium a diversis terris et regnis contracta, videlicet ab Antwerpia, Tila, Fresia, Flandria, per mare Provincialibus in terra Sancti Aegidii, de potestate comitis Reimundo, associati.” [24] _H. C. Oc._, iv, pp. 500-501. [25] “Post captionem Antiochiae, decreto itinere suo cum ceteris in Iherusalem.” _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 501. [26] Cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 341. [27] _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, p. 212. [28] _Annales Genuenses_, in _H. C. Oc._, v, p. 66. [29] Son of Malcolm Canmore. [30] _A.-S. C._, _a._ 1097; Henry of Huntingdon, p. 230. The former places Edgar’s expedition to Scotland after Michaelmas (29 September), the latter after Martinmas (11 November). Cf. Florence of Worcester, ii, p. 41. [31] “Navium diversi generis et operis multitudinem … quarum mali mirae altitudinis, auro purissimo operti, in radiis solis refulgebant.” _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 348. [32] _Supra_, p. 230. [33] Chalandon, _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, pp. 212-214, 217. [34] _Supra_, p. 231. [35] This is clear from the accounts of both Raymond of Aguilers and Ralph of Caen. Cf. _supra_, pp. 231, 233. [36] _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, ch. vii. [37] Ralph of Caen, _supra_, pp. 233-234. [38] Raymond of Aguilers, _supra_, p. 233. [39] Tudebode, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 43. [40] On the treaty relations between Alexius and the crusaders see Chalandon, _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, ch. vi. [41] Albert of Aix says that it was handed over to the Emperor by Count Raymond, but, as has been pointed out above, his account is hardly trustworthy. There is a statement in Raymond of Aguilers to the effect that during the siege of Arka (spring of 1099) Count Raymond sent Hugh de Monteil to Laodicea to fetch the cross of the late Bishop Adhemar: “Misit itaque comes Guillelmum Ugonem de Montilio, fratrem episcopi Podiensis, Laodiciam, ubi crux dimissa fuerat cum capella ipsius episcopi.” _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 287. It is possible that this indicates some closer Provençal connection with Laodicea at this period than I have allowed. [42] “Quae Christianae erat potestatis.” _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 450. [43] _Ibid._, p. 453. [44] _G. F._, pp. 428-429. [45] _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 276, 295. In the former passage Raymond, writing from the standpoint of Arka, mentions the arrival of Greek, Venetian, and Genoese (?) provision ships, which, in the absence of a port directly opposite Arka, were obliged to turn back northward and put in at Tortosa and Laodicea; in the latter, recording the disaster which overtook the Genoese ships at Jaffa in June, he notes that one escaped and returned to Laodicea, “ibique sociis et amicis nostris, de nobis qui eramus Iherosolymis, sicuti erat, denuntiavit.” For the date cf. Hagenmeyer, _Chronologie_, no. 394. For the identification of _naves nostrae_ or _naves de nostris_ with the ships of the Genoese, cf. _H. C. Oc._, iii, pp. 294, 298. [46] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 500; Ordericus, iv, pp. 70, 71; letter of Dagobert, Godfrey, and Raymond, to the Pope, in _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 173. [47] Cf. Chalandon, _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, chs. vi, vii. [48] _Supra_, p. 241. [49] Raymond of Aguilers, in _H. C. Oc._, iii, p. 286. [50] _Gesta Triumphalia Pisanorum_, _H. C. Oc._, v, p. 368. [51] On the decline of the Byzantine fleet in the eleventh century see Carl Neumann, “Die byzantinische Marine,” in _Historische Zeitschrift_, lxxxi (1898), pp. 1-23. [52] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 500. [53] _Ibid._, pp. 500-503; Ordericus, iv, pp. 70-72; _Kreuzzugsbriefe_, p. 173. [54] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 503. [55] Chalandon, _Alexis Iᵉʳ_, pp. 207 ff. [56] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 504; cf. Ordericus, iv, p. 72. [57] Albert of Aix, in _H. C. Oc._, iv, p. 504; Ordericus, iv, pp. 72-75; Fulcher, pp. 320-321, 342-343; _Translatio S. Nicolai Venetiam_, in _H. C. Oc._, v, p. 271. APPENDIX F THE BATTLE OF TINCHEBRAY[1] The tactics of the battle of Tinchebray have been the subject of much discussion among recent writers, including the specialists in military history. There is general agreement as to the strategical stroke by which the victory was won, viz., a surprise attack upon the flank of the ducal forces by a band of mounted knights from Maine and Brittany. But as to the disposition of the troops in the two main armies, widely different views are held upon two points. (1) Oman thinks that the battle formation on each side was an extended line made up of a right, centre, and left.[2] Ramsay, on the other hand, holds that the opposing forces were “marshalled in column, in successive divisions”;[3] and this view is accepted by Drummond,[4] by Delbrück,[5] and by Davis,[6] the two latter conjecturing a formation in échelon. Ramsay’s view is pretty clearly supported by the sources. Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 229) designates a first, second, and third _acies_, or division, on the side of the king, and a first and last (_extrema_) _acies_ on the side of the duke; and, according to his account, only the first _acies_, i.e., the leading elements, of the two opposing forces engaged in the fighting. The contemporary letter of a priest of Fécamp, which is discussed below, is also specific with regard to the royal forces, describing a first and a second _acies_.[7] (2) The larger question in debate between the specialists, however, turns upon the relative importance of cavalry and infantry in the battle of Tinchebray. Oman, relying upon a very specific passage in Henry of Huntingdon (p. 235), and placing a strained interpretation upon Ordericus Vitalis (iv, p. 229), holds that the battle was almost wholly an affair of infantry, and therefore almost without precedent in the tactics of the period.[8] For Ramsay, on the other hand, it was mainly an engagement of cavalry, the foot soldiers playing but a minor part.[9] Drummond has gone even further and taken great pains to demonstrate that it was a “ganze normale Schlacht des XII. Jahrhunderts,” i.e., a battle between mounted knights, the foot soldiery that happened to be present being held entirely in reserve;[10] and Drummond’s conclusions have been accepted without question by Delbrück.[11] It is surprising that in none of the discussion above noted has any account been taken of the most important extant source for the tactics of Tinchebray, viz., a letter from a priest of Fécamp to a priest of Séez written a very few days after the engagement, and describing with exactness certain tactical features of the battle. If not actually by an eyewitness, the letter is still by one who was in touch with the king and who was well informed as to the disposition of the royal forces. It is, therefore, entitled to rank as an authority above any of the accounts in the chronicles. It was first discovered by Paul Meyer in an Oxford manuscript,[12] and published in 1872 by Léopold Delisle as a note in his great edition of the chronicle of Robert of Torigny (i, p. 129). But, strangely overlooked by all the military historians, it remained unused, and was rediscovered by H. W. C. Davis and published with extensive comment in 1909 in the _English Historical Review_ (xxiv, pp. 728-732) as a “new source.” As afterwards turned out, Davis’s transcription of the letter had been exceedingly faulty—rendering, indeed, a part of the text which was fundamental for tactics quite unintelligible—and in a later number of the _Review_ (xxv, p. 296) it was again published in a corrected text. By a comparison with the original edition of Delisle[13] it appears that, by an almost unbelievable coincidence, the same omission of an entire line of the manuscript was made there as in the edition of Davis. Yet all transcripts have been made from a single manuscript, viz., Jesus College, Oxford, no. 51, fol. 104. We have, then, at last, a correct edition of this important source in the _English Historical Review_, xxv, p. 296.[14] Davis, in commenting on the tactics of the battle in the light of this letter, but from his own faulty transcript, maintains that neither of the extreme views is correct, and suggests “a third interpretation of the evidence, midway between the two existing theories.”[15] He holds that infantry played an important part in the action, but still assigns much prominence to the cavalry. Apropos of the corrected text of the priest’s letter, however, he remarks: “Taking the omitted words into consideration, it is clear that the foot soldiers played a larger part in the battle than I allowed in my article. The second of Henry’s divisions, like the first, was composite, containing both infantry and cavalry.”[16] This, indeed, is the correct view. Our conception of the battle of Tinchebray must be based upon the sources, and not upon a preconceived theory of the all-importance of the mounted knight in twelfth-century warfare. Drummond and Delbrück have quite unjustifiably ignored Henry of Huntingdon in favor of Ordericus Vitalis. Whatever the theorists may hold, foot soldiers did play an unusually large part in the battle of Tinchebray. In view of the explicit statement of Henry of Huntingdon (p. 235) and of the priest of Fécamp[17] it cannot be denied that, on the king’s side at least, some knights were dismounted and fought on foot, in order that they might stand more firmly (_ut constantius pugnarent_). On the other hand, Oman, while perfectly justified in pointing out the unusual prominence given to foot soldiers, certainly exaggerates in representing the battle as almost wholly an affair of infantry. The large part played by cavalry is clear both from the explicit statement of the priest of Fécamp and from the account of Ordericus Vitalis. The battle of Tinchebray may, therefore, still claim to stand as an important precedent in the development of mediaeval tactics because of the unusual combination of infantry and cavalry in the fighting line. FOOTNOTES [1] For the recent discussion see C. W. C. Oman, _History of the Art of War: the Middle Ages_ (London, 1898), pp. 379-381; J. H. Ramsay, _Foundations of England_ (London, 1898), ii, pp. 254-255; J. D. Drummond, _Studien zur Kriegsgeschichte Englands im 12. Jahrhundert_ (Berlin, 1905), pp. 35-43; Hans Delbrück, _Geschichte der Kriegskunst_ (Berlin, 1900-07), iii, pp. 411-412; H. W. C. Davis, “A Contemporary Account of the Battle of Tinchebrai,” in _E. H. R._, xxiv, pp. 728-732; “The Battle of Tinchebrai, a Correction,” _ibid._, xxv, pp. 295-296. [2] _Art of War_, p. 379. [3] _Foundations of England_, ii, p. 254. [4] _Kriegsgeschichte Englands_, pp. 39-40. [5] _Geschichte der Kriegskunst_, iii, p. 412. [6] _E. H. R._, xxiv, p. 732. [7] See pp. 246-247 and n. 14 _infra_. It would doubtless be unwarrantable to put a strict technical interpretation upon the language of our sources, but the designation of numbered _acies_ certainly suggests successive elements one behind another rather than any other arrangement. [8] _Art of War_, p. 379. [9] _Foundations of England_, ii, pp. 254-255. [10] _Kriegsgeschichte Englands_, pp. 35-43. [11] _Geschichte der Kriegskunst_, iii, p. 411. [12] Jesus College, MS. 51, fol. 104. [13] _Chronique de Robert de Torigni_, i, p. 129, note. [14] That part of the letter which is descriptive of tactics reads as follows, the italics indicating the line omitted from the editions of Davis and Delisle: “In prima acie fuerunt Baiocenses, Abrincatini, et Constantinienses, omnes pedites; _in secunda vero rex cum innumeris baronibus suis, omnes similiter pedites_. Ad hec septingenti equites utrique aciei ordinati; preterea comes Cenomannis et comes Britonum Alanus Fergandus circumcingentes exercitum, usque ad mille equites, remotis omnibus gildonibus et servis, nam totus exercitus regis prope modum ad xl milia hominum estimabatur. Comes vero ad vi milia habuit, equites septingentos, et vix una hora prelium stetit, Roberto de Belismo statim terga vertente, ex cuius fuga dispersi sunt omnes.” Evidently the error in transcription was due to the fact that the omitted clause ended in the same word as that immediately preceding it. Davis also wrote _horum_ for _hominum_ in the last word but one of the following sentence. Delisle’s edition has this correctly. [15] _E. H. R._, xxiv, p. 728. [16] _Ibid._, xxv, p. 296. [17] See the excerpt in n. 14, _supra_. APPENDIX G THE ROBERT MEDALLION IN SUGER’S STAINED GLASS WINDOW AT SAINT-DENIS A recent writer has described Suger’s reconstruction of the abbey church of Saint-Denis as “le fait capital de l’histoire artistique du XIIᵉ siècle”;[1] and certainly among the most remarkable features of that great achievement were the stained glass windows, which were the abbot’s pride, and which he caused to be wrought “by the skilful hands of many masters from divers nations.”[2] The oldest painted windows of known date which survived from the Middle Ages,[3] most of them were destroyed during the French Revolution; and there would be no occasion to mention them in connection with the life of Robert Curthose, were it not that a series of ten medallions from one window, representing scenes from the First Crusade, has been preserved for us by the venerable Benedictine, Bernard de Montfaucon, in copperplate engravings of the early eighteenth century.[4] The eighth scene in the series has given rise to much discussion. It portrays a Christian knight in the act of unhorsing a pagan warrior with a mighty thrust of his lance, and bears the inscription: R DVX NORMANNORVM PARTVM PROSTERNIT.[5] Clearly we have here some spectacular victory of Robert Curthose over a Saracen; and it is the oldest graphic representation of the duke now extant. The only problem is to identify it either with a historic or with a legendary exploit of Robert on the Crusade. Ferdinand de Mély, assuming that it had nothing to do with veritable history, has supposed that it represented Robert’s legendary combat with the emir ‘Red Lion’ during the great battle of the Franks against Kerboga, as related in the _Chanson d’Antioche_;[6] and at Riant’s suggestion he has gone further and proposed that it may offer a _terminus ad quem_ for determining the date of composition of that poem.[7] Gaston Paris has very properly rejected both these hypotheses. But he still holds that the Robert medallion can only be explained by reference to the _Chanson d’Antioche_, and he identifies the scene portrayed with Robert’s legendary victory over Kerboga himself rather than with that over Red Lion.[8] On the other hand, Hagenmeyer, who is better qualified to speak upon such matters, sees not legend at all but sober history in the scene in question. Indeed, upon comparison of the whole series of Montfaucon’s engravings with the original narratives of the First Crusade, he finds all the scenes portrayed to be in remarkably close agreement with historic facts. “L’artiste qui a fait ces peintures,” he says, “a été, sans aucun doute, très au courant des événements marquants de la première croisade… A proprement parler, aucune de ces peintures ne contient d’épisode légendaire.” And the scene in the Robert medallion he considers to be no more than a pictorial rendering of a text from the _Gesta Francorum_ describing the battle of Ascalon: “Comes autem de Nortmannia cernens ammiravisi stantarum … ruit vehementer super illum, eumque vulneravit usque ad mortem.”[9] Although Mély in quoting Hagenmeyer’s opinion does not accept it,[10] there can be little doubt of its correctness. The scenes from the Crusade in Suger’s window do not, it is true, agree in every minute detail with the primary literary sources, but the deviations are certainly not greater than should be expected from a mediaeval painter striving to produce an artistic result within the limitations of his craft. The arrangement and numbering of Montfaucon’s engravings leave some doubt as to the original sequence of the medallions, but so far as it is possible to determine, the outstanding events of the Crusade from the siege of Nicaea to the battle of Ascalon appear to have been portrayed in chronological order. About the first six scenes, as arranged by Montfaucon, there can be practically no doubt. And the great battle against Kerboga is set in its proper place between the capture of Antioch and the storming of Jerusalem; and there is no indication that Robert played a special part in it, any more than there is in the strictly historical literary sources. The last four medallions as given by Montfaucon present peculiar difficulties; and it will be well to describe them briefly, preserving his numbering. No. 7. The flight of defeated horsemen through a gate into a walled city. Inscription: ARABES VICTI IN ASCALON FVGIVNT. No. 8. The Robert medallion which has been described above. No. 9. A single combat between a Christian and a pagan horseman, each supported by a band of warriors who fill the background. Inscription: DVELLVM PARTI EX ROTBERTI FLANDRENSIS COMITIS. No. 10. A general combat between Christian and pagan warriors fighting on horseback. Inscription: BELLVM AMITE ASCALONIA IV; and an unfilled space at the end seems to indicate that it is incomplete. Evidently this inscription has become corrupt in transmission, and as it stands it is not wholly intelligible. It seems clear enough, however, that we have here a representation of the great battle of the Franks against the Egyptian emir Malik el-Afdhal near Ascalon. Now if the four medallions in question be taken in the order in which they have just been described, it is difficult, if not impossible, to reconcile them with the literary sources as a representation of actual events in chronological order. But it is very doubtful whether Montfaucon has placed them in their proper sequence. We have no way of checking him as to the arrangement of nos. 8 and 9; but a glance at his engravings reveals the fact that nos. 7 and 10 are not perfectly circular like the rest, but are considerably cut away, the former in the upper right hand sector and the latter in the upper left hand sector.[11] Clearly they were placed side by side at the top of the window in the restricted space beneath the pointed arch, no. 10 being on the left and no. 7 on the right. Now the general sequence of the medallions in the window appears to have been from the bottom to the top; and in that case nos. 10 and 7 must have been the last two of the series. If this arrangement be accepted the interpretation of the last four medallions does not seem to offer greater difficulties than that of the first six. All four have to do with events centring around Ascalon and the great contest of the Franks with the Egyptian emir. Nos. 8 and 9 portray the individual feats of arms of Robert Curthose and Robert of Flanders as set forth in the literary sources.[12] No. 10 (with the corrupt inscription) probably represents the general engagement in which the exploits of the two Roberts were such notable features. And no. 7, properly belonging at the end, represents the flight of the vanquished pagans through the gate within the protecting walls of Ascalon. It is true that our best literary sources in describing the pursuit which followed the battle make no mention of this particular feature. But we know that the inhabitants of Ascalon closed their gates and successfully bid defiance to the crusaders;[13] and it certainly does not seem improbable that some of the fugitive Saracens should have escaped thither. At any rate, the artist might very well have assumed that they so escaped. FOOTNOTES [1] Émile Mâle, in André Michel, _Histoire de l’art_ (Paris, 1905-), i, p. 786. On the rebuilding of the church see Otto Cartellieri, _Abt Suger von Saint-Denis, 1081-1151_ (Berlin, 1898), p. 105, and the references there given; Michel Félibien, _Histoire de l’abbaye royale de Saint-Denis en France_ (Paris, 1706), pp. 170-176; Paul Vitry and Gaston Brière, _L’église abbatiale de Saint-Denis et ses tombeaux_ (Paris, 1908), pp. 9-10; and above all Anthyme Saint-Paul, “Suger, l’église de Saint-Denis, et Saint Bernard,” in _Bulletin archéologique du Comité des Travaux historiques et scientifiques_, 1890, pp. 258-275. [2] “Vitrearum etiam novarum praeclaram varietatem, ab ea prima quae incipit a _Stirps Iesse_ in capite ecclesiae, usque ad eam quae superest principali portae in introitu ecclesiae, tam superius quam inferius, magistrorum multorum de diversis nationibus manu exquisita, depingi fecimus.” _Oeuvres complètes de Suger_, ed. A. Lecoy de la Marche (Paris, 1867), p. 204. [3] “Les plus anciens vitraux à date certaine qui subsistent encore… [Ils] furent mis en place de 1140 à 1144.” Michel, _Histoire de l’art_, i, p. 784. Nevertheless it may be doubted whether all the windows were actually completed at the time of the consecration of the choir and the translation of the relics, 11 June 1144. The windows, only fragments of which have escaped destruction, are most fully described by Ferdinand de Lasteyrie, _Histoire de la peinture sur verre d’après ses monuments en France_ (Paris, 1853-57), i, pp. 27-37; ii, planches iii-vii. [4] _Les monumens de la monarchie françoise_ (Paris, 1729-33), i, planches l-liv, between pages 390 and 397. Montfaucon says (p. 384): “Cette première croisade est representée en dix tableaux sur les vitres de l’église de S. Denis, à l’extrêmité du rond-pont derrière le grand autel, dans cette partie qu’on appelle le chevet. Ces tableaux qu’on voit tous sur une même vitre, furent faits par ordre de l’abbé Suger, qui s’est fait peindre plusieurs fois dans ces vitres du chevet avec son nom _Sugerius Abbas_.” There seems no reason to doubt Montfaucon’s identification of this window with one of those executed at Suger’s order, and modern writers have accepted it without question. It ought to be noted, however, that no fragment of this particular window appears to have escaped destruction, and that Suger, although he describes two of the windows in detail and names a third, makes no specific mention whatever of this one. And, moreover, it is the very windows which he does describe which have in part been preserved. But on the other hand, Suger makes no pretence at a complete list or description of the windows; and he himself indicates that there were many. _Oeuvres de Suger_, pp. 204-206; Lasteyrie, _Histoire de la teinture sur verre_, i, pp. 27-37; ii, planches iii-vii. [5] Montfaucon, _Monumens_, i, planche liii, opposite p. 396. [6] Vol. ii, p. 261. [7] “La croix des premiers croisés,” in _Revue de l’art chrétien_, 1890, pp. 298-300. [8] “Robert Courte-Heuse à la première croisade,” in _Comptes rendus de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres_, 1890, pp. 207-208. [9] Letter to Riant, printed in _Revue de l’art chrétien_, 1890, pp. 300-301; _G. F._, pp. 494-495. [10] “M. Hagenmeyer … me semble être allé beaucoup trop loin, dans le cas qu’il fait de nos cartons pour l’explication des textes qu’ils représentent. Je ne saurais le suivre sur ce terrain, persuadé que les détails de faits qui se sont passés en Orient ont incontestablement été modifiés par des artistes qui n’avaient jamais quitté la France.” _Revue de l’art chrétien_, 1890, p. 300. [11] Montfaucon, _Monumens_, i, planches liii, liv, opposite p. 396. [12] See _supra_, p. 116; cf. _Revue de l’art chrétien_, 1890, p. 300. [13] _Supra_, p. 116. INDEX Mediaeval names of persons are arranged alphabetically under the English form of the Christian name. Abbeville (Somme), 40, note. Abingdon (Berkshire), chronicle of, 31, 207; abbey, 31; abbot, _see_ Adelelm. Absalom, 20. Acopars, 196. Acre (Palestine), 111, note. _Actus Pontificum Cenomannis in Urbe degentium_, 205. Adam, canon of the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, 229. Adams, G. B., 212. Adela, countess of Blois and Chartres, sister of Robert Curthose, 168. Adelelm, abbot of Abingdon, 31. Adelina, daughter of Robert of Meulan, 146. Aderbal, _scolae minister_, 73, note. Adhemar, bishop of Le Puy, papal representative on the First Crusade, 102, 106, 108, 111. Administration of Normandy under Robert Curthose, 80-81. Adrastus, 37. Adriatic sea, 98. Aegean sea, 100. Agnes de Ribemont, sister of Anselm de Ribemont and wife of Walter Giffard, 147. Aid (_auxilium_) taken from the English barons by William Rufus (1096), 92. Aimeric de Villeray, 22, 23. Aksonkor, _see_ Kasim ed-daula Aksonkor. Alan Fergant, duke of Brittany, 94, 172, 174, 221, 227, 247, note. Alan, son of Ralph de Gael, 221, 226. Alan, steward of Archbishop Baldric of Dol, 94, 221. Alberic, _comes_, 37, note, 41, note. Alberic, son of Hugh of Grandmesnil, 21, note, 22, 93, 221. Alberic de Milesse, 74, note. Albert of Aix, chronicler, 198, 208, 217, 228, 235, 236, 237, 238, 241, 242. Aldhun, bishop of Durham, 213. Alençon (Orne), 9, 43, 76. Aleppo (Syria), 230. Aleppo road, 105. Alexandria (Egypt), 47. _Alexiad_, _see_ Anna Comnena. Alexius I Comnenus, Greek emperor, 100, 101, 102, 105, 109, 112, 117, 118, 230, 233-236, _passim_, 238, 239, 240, 242, 243, 244. Almenèches (Orne), abbey, 140, 142, 143; abbess, _see_ Emma. Alost (East Flanders), 186. Alps, mountains, 96, 120, 184, 233. Alton (Hampshire), 131, 133, 172; treaty of, 141, 144, note, 148, 157. Amalfi (province of Salerno), 97. Amaury de Montfort, 145, 146. Amendelis, reputed messenger of Kilij Arslan, 193, note. Ancenis (Loire-Inférieure), 223. Andronicus Tzintzilucas, 234, 238. Angers (Maine-et-Loire), abbeys at, _see_ Saint-Aubin, Saint-Nicolas. Anglo-Flemish relations, 155-156, 181, 182, 185. Anglo-French relations during the reign of Henry I, 122, 155, 181, 182-185. _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 24, 45, 83, 95, 136, 206. Anjou, relations of Henry I with, 156; counts of, _see_ Fulk IV, Fulk V, Geoffrey II, Geoffrey III, Geoffrey IV. Anna Comnena, daughter of Emperor Alexius I, 209, 234, 236, 238; _Alexiad_, 209. Annals of Renaud, 34. Annals of Winchester, _see_ Winchester. ‘Anonymous of York,’ 82, note. Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury, 81, 83, 84, 92, note, 121, 122, 127-130, _passim_, 132, 136, note, 154, 168-171, _passim_, 177, 178, 206, 208, 212, 213. Anselm de Ribemont, 231. Antioch (Syria), 93, 94, 104, 105, 106-109, _passim_, 111, 112, 114, 139, 190, 191, 194, 221, 222, 224, 226, 227, 228, 231-242, _passim_, 251; _see_ St. Peter, church of. Anti-pope, _see_ Clement III. Antwerp, 235. Apennines, mountains, 96. Apulia, 98, 112, note, 193. Aquitaine, 24, 38. Arabia, 113. Ardevon (Manche), 64. Argences (Calvados), 85, note. Argentan (Orne), 85, 127, 141, 144, note, 178. Arka (Syria), 110, 111, 241, 242. Arnold, bishop of Le Mans, 35. Arnold, Thomas, 214. Arnulf, brother of Robert of Bellême, 127, 140, 142. Arnulf of Chocques, chaplain of Robert Curthose, 95, 111, 115, 116, 217-220, 221. Arnulf of Hesdin, 95, 222. Arques (Seine-Inférieure), 55, 75, note, 165, note. Arundel (Sussex), 139. Ascalon (Palestine), 115-116, 119, 125, note, 197, note, 251, 252. Ascelin Goël, 78, 145, 146. Asia Minor, 104. Atenas, legendary Turkish king, 197. Athyra (modern Bojuk Tchekmedche, Thrace), 99, note. Auberville (Calvados), 79. Aubrée la Grosse, 222, 223. Aumale (Seine-Inférieure), 60; count of, _see_ Stephen. Avranches (Manche), 49, 62, 63, 75, 78, 81, 174. Azzo, marquis of Este, 72, note. Bagora, Mount (Macedonia), 99, note. Bagulatus, Mons, _see_ Bagora. Baldric, archbishop of Dol, historian of the First Crusade, 208, 221. Baldwin, count of Edessa, brother of Godfrey of Bouillon, 104, note, 111, 196, note, 235. Baldwin V, count of Flanders, 4, 155, note. Baldwin VII, count of Flanders, 182. Ballinger, John, 188, note. Ballon (Sarthe), castle, 70, 71, 225. Bardarium, _see_ Vardar. Barfleur (Manche), 161, 164. Bari (province of Bari), 97, 98; _see_ St. Nicholas, church of. Barnwell (Cambridgeshire), priory, 95, 225. Bartholomew, abbot of Marmoutier, 12. Bath, bishop of, _see_ John. Battle of Ascalon, 115-116; of Brémule, 182; of Dorylaeum, 103; of Gerberoy, 26-27; with Kerboga of Mosul, 107; of Tinchebray, 173-176, 245-248. Baudart, 196. Bavent (Calvados), 71, note, 75, 79. Bayeux (Calvados), 15, note, 16, 51, note, 53, note, 55, note, 91, note, 153, note, 159, 160, 165, 166, 167, 225; bishop of, _see_ Odo, Thorold. Bazoge, La (Sarthe), 224. Beaumont-le-Roger (Eure), 140, 145, 156. Beaumont-sur-Sarthe (Sarthe), 14. Beauvais, abbey at, _see_ Saint-Quentin. Bec-Hellouin (Eure), Le, abbey, 81, 83, 165, note, 171, 226. Belial, 163. Bellême (Orne), 43, 76; house of, _see_ Talvas. Bellou-sur-Huîne (Orne), 228. Bernard, abbot of Marmoutier, 223. Bernard, son of Walter of Saint-Valery, 94, 222. Bertrada de Montfort, 71, 75. Bessin, 159, 160, 166, note, 174. Bibliothèque Nationale, 207. Biota, daughter of Herbert Éveille-Chien, 8, 9. Blanchelande, _see_ La Bruère. Blois, count of, _see_ Stephen; countess of, _see_ Adela. Bofinat, _see_ Vodena. Bohemond, prince of Taranto, eldest son of Robert Guiscard, leader of the First Crusade, 97-98, 100, 102, 104, 105, 107, 108, 109, 112, 114, 117, 118, 119, 193, 198, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244. Böhmer, Heinrich, 82, note, 165, note. Bonneville-sur-Touques (Calvados), 12, note, 14, note, 15, 19, 29, 40, note. Botella, _see_ Monastir. Boulogne, counts of, _see_ Eustace II, Eustace III. Brémule (Eure), battle of, 182. Breteuil succession, war of the, 144-146, 156. Bretons on the First Crusade, 94. Bréval (Seine-et-Oise), siege of, 78. Bridgenorth (Shropshire), 139. Brindisi (province of Lecce), 99. Brionne (Eure), 43, 75, 76. Bristol (Gloucestershire), 186. British Museum, 154, note. Brittany, relations of Henry I with, 156; dukes of, _see_ Hoël, Alan Fergant. Bruno, citizen of Lucca, 107, note, 232. Bulgaria, 100. Bures (Seine-Inférieure), 55, 75, note, 85. Caen (Calvados), 31, note, 42, 60, note, 65, 66, 80, 124, 125, note, 159, 160, 166, 167, 170, 191, 219; abbeys, _see_ La Trinité, Saint-Étienne. Caesarea (Palestine), 110, note. Caesarea Mazaca (Cappadocia), 104, note. Cafaro of Genoa, 230, note, 236, 240. Cagny (Calvados), 166, note. Calabria, 43, note, 98. Calixtus II, pope, 183. _Calloenses_, 56. _Campus Martius_, 84. Canterbury, 125, note, 150; archbishops of, _see_ Lanfranc, Anselm, Ralph, William. Cardiff (Glamorganshire), castle, 138, 186-189, _passim_. Carentan (Manche), 161, 164. _Cartulaire de l’abbaye de Saint-Vincent du Mans_, 208. Castellum Vallium, truce of, 33. Caux, pays de, 160. Cecilia, daughter of William the Conqueror, abbess of La Trinité at Caen, 95, 124, 219. Chalandon, Ferdinand, 100, note, 117, 234, 236, 238, 239. _Chanson d’Antioche_, 195, 196, 210, 250. _Chanson de Jérusalem_, 197, 198, 210. _Chanson de Roland_, 153, note. Charlemagne, 192, note. Charles the Good, count of Flanders, 185. Charroux (Vienne), 142. Charter of Liberties of Henry I, 122. _Chartes de Saint-Julien de Tours_, 207. Chartres, bishop of, _see_ Ivo; count of, _see_ Stephen; countess of, _see_ Adela. Château-Gontier (Mayenne), 77, 141. Châteauneuf-en-Thymerais (Eure-et-Loir), 22. Chaumont-en-Vexin (Oise), 85, note, 96, note, 185. Cherbourg (Manche), 60, 62, 63. Chester, earls of, _see_ Hugh, Richard. Chetelhulmum, _see_ Quettehou. Cheux (Calvados), 150. Chevalier au Cygne, 192, note. _Chevalier au Cygne et Godefroid de Bouillon_, 210. Chichester, bishop of, _see_ Ralph. Chocques (Pas-de-Calais), 217. Chrisopolis, _see_ Pravista. Christopolis, _see_ Kavala. _Chronique de Morigny_, 206. Church, _see_ English church, Norman church. Cilicia, 233, note. Cilician Gates, 104. Cintheaux (Calvados), 167. Clarence, river, 217. Clement III (Guibert), anti-pope, 97. Clermont (Puy-de-Dôme), council of, 88, 89, 90, 93, 223, 224. Companions of Robert Curthose on the Crusade, 93-95, 221-229. Compiègne (Oise), 29, note; abbey, _see_ Saint-Corneille. Conan, citizen of Bayeux, 165. Conan de Lamballe, son of Geoffrey I, called Boterel, count of Lamballe, 94, 222. Conan, son of Gilbert Pilatus, citizen of Rouen, 56, 57, 58. Conan’s Leap, 58. Conches (Eure), 58. Conquest of Normandy by Henry I, 155-179. Constantinople, 98, 99, 100, 112, note, 117, 244. _Consuetudines et Iusticie_, 65. Corbonnais, 21, 22. Cotentin, 49, 62, 63, 64, note, 75, 78, 79, 80, 123, note, 124, 134, 157, 160, 161, 174; count of the, _see_ Henry I. Couesnon, river, 64. Councils, ecclesiastical, _see_ Clermont, Rheims, Rouen; ducal or royal, _see_ Lisieux, Rockingham, Winchester. Courcy (Calvados), 59, 77. Coutances (Manches), 62, 63, 81. Coxon (ancient Cocussus in Cappadocia), 104, note. Cross, _see_ Holy Cross. Crusade, First, 77, 89-119, 123, 124, 125, 127, 149, 150, 156, 190, 192-199, 208-209, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221-244, 249-252. Crusaders, _see_ Companions of Robert Curthose. _Curia ducis_, 76, 80. Curse laid upon Robert Curthose by his father, 27. Cyprus, island, 105, 230, 231, 232, note, 233, 234, note, 238, 239. Daemonis flumen, _see_ Skumbi. Dagobert, archbishop of Pisa, patriarch of Jerusalem, 232, 243. Dallington (Northampton or Sussex), 167. Danegeld, 92. Dapifer of Philip I, king of France, 23. David, king of Israel, 162. David I, king of Scotland, son of Malcolm Canmore, 186, note. Davis, H. W. C., 36, note, 97, note, 233, note, 245, 246, 247; _Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum_, 207. _De Iniusta Vexatione Willelmi Episcopi Primi_, 211-216. Delbrück, Hans, 245, 246, 247. Delisle, Léopold, 246. Devizes (Wiltshire), 180. Dijon, abbot of, _see_ Gerento. Dol (Ille-et-Vilaine), siege of, 23, 32; bishop of, _see_ Baldric. Domfront (Orne), 77, 78, 87, 89, 123, note, 124, 134, 135, 157, 158. Dorylaeum (Phrygia), battle of, 103, 104, 193, 194. Doubs, river, 96. Dover (Kent), 58, note, 73, note, 87, 128, 155, note. Downton (Wiltshire), 36. Dreux de Monchy, 222. Drummond, J. D., 245, 246, 247. Duncan, son of King Malcolm, 42. Durand, abbot of Troarn, 53, note. Durazzo (Illyria), 99. Durham, 67, 136, 177, 212, 213, 215, 216, note; bishops of, _see_ Aldhun, William of Saint-Calais, Ranulf Flambard. Eadmer, 132, 167, 212; _Historia Novorum in Anglia_, 206. East Anglia, 47. Easter celebration at Carentan, 161-164. Eccles (Berwickshire), 31. Écrammeville (Calvados), 79. Edessa (Mesopotamia), 104, note, 112; count of, _see_ Baldwin. Edgar Atheling, grandson of Edmund Ironside, 67, 175, 232, 233, 236, 237. Edgar, king of Scotland, son of Malcolm Canmore, 236. Edith, sister of William of Warenne, wife of Gerard of Gournay, 222. Edward the Confessor, king of England, 12, 122. Elbeuf-sur-Andelle (Seine-Inférieure), 177, note. El-Bukeia (Syria), valley of, 110. Emelota, _see_ Emma. Émendreville (modern Saint-Sever, suburb of Rouen), 57. Emma, abbess of Almenèches, sister of Robert of Bellême, 140, 142, note. Emma (or Emelota), niece of Arnulf of Chocques, 218. Emma, daughter of William Fitz Osbern, wife of Ralph de Gael, 222, 236. English church, taxed by William Rufus, 92; supports Henry I, 132. _English Historical Review_, 246, 247. English mariners on the First Crusade, 95, 105-106, 231-232, 236-237. Enguerran, son of Ilbert de Lacy, 160, 166. Enguerrand, son of Count Hugh of Saint-Pol, 94, 222. Eraclea, _see_ Eregli. Eregli (Thrace), 99, note. Eremburg, daughter of Helias of La Flèche, 126. Ernest de Buron, 215. Eu (Seine-Inférieure), 55, 59, 60, 84, 86, 87; counts of, _see_ Henry, Robert. _Eulogium Historiarum_, 210. Eumathios Philocales, duke of Cyprus, 236, 240. Eustace II, count of Boulogne, 47, 51. Eustace III, count of Boulogne, 115, 118, note, 135, 222. Eustace, natural son of William of Breteuil, 144, 145, 146, 156. Eustace Garnier, lord of Caesarea, 218. Évrecin, 144. Evremar of Chocques, patriarch of Jerusalem, 217, note. Évreux, bishop of, _see_ Gilbert; count of, _see_ William. Exmes (Orne), 75, 77, 143. Falaise (Calvados), castle, 9, 167, 170, 171, 177, 178, 180; _vicomté_ of, 178. Farrer, W., 207, note. Fécamp, abbey, _see_ La Trinité; letter of a priest of Fécamp to a priest of Séez, 245-248, _passim_. Feudal anarchy (or private war) in Normandy, 43-44, 53, 58, 75-80, 123, 140-146, 159-160. Firth of Forth, 67, note. Flanders, 28, 59, 155; counts of, _see_ Baldwin V, Robert the Frisian, Robert of Jerusalem, Baldwin VII, Charles the Good, William Clito. Fliche, Augustin, 85, note, 86, note. Florence of Worcester, 68, 206, 211, 214, 216. _Flores Historiarum_, 201, 210. _Florinensis Brevis Narratio Belli Sacri_, 231. Fourches (Calvados), castle of Robert of Bellême, 77, 141. Freeman, E. A., 4, note, 9, note, 23, note, 26, note, 34, note, 55, note, 66, note, 67, note, 95, note, 118, 119, 127, note, 130, note, 134, note, 211, 215. Fresnay (Sarthe), 14, 70, note. Frisia, 235. Fulcher of Chartres, historian of the First Crusade, 95, 101, 209, 223; _Historia Hierosolymitana_, 208. Fulcher, bishop of Lisieux, brother of Ranulf Flambard, 151. Fulcher, son of Walter, 179, note. Fulk IV le Réchin, count of Anjou, 15, 32-35, _passim_, 70, 71, 74, 75, 125, 126. Fulk V le Jeune, count of Anjou, son of Fulk le Réchin, 182, 184. Fulk of Aunou-le-Faucon, 226. Fulk, abbot of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives, 150, 171, note. Gacé (Calvados), 71, note, 75, 79. Gaillefontaine (Seine-Inférieure), 54. Galbert of Bruges, _Histoire du meurtre de Charles le Bon_, 206. Gascony, 24, 38. Gavray (Manche), 62. Genealogy of the counts of Maine, 8, note. Genêts (Manche), 64. _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 187. Geoffrey II Martel, count of Anjou, 7. Geoffrey III le Barbu, count of Anjou, 8, 9. Geoffrey IV Martel, the Younger, count of Anjou, 164. Geoffrey Chotard, baron of Ancenis, 223. Geoffrey of Conversano, 118. Geoffrey Gaimar, 191, 209. Geoffrey, son of Riou de Lohéac, 227. Geoffrey of Mayenne, 70, 72. Geoffrey of Mortagne II, count of Perche, son of Rotrou I, 77, 94. Geoffrey, archbishop of Rouen, 183, note. Geoffrey de Vigeois, 201. George, Robert H., 155, note. Gerard of Gournay, 54, 56, 58, 60, 93. Gerard de Saint-Hilaire, 141. Gerberoy (Oise), 19, 20, note, 23, 25-28, _passim_, 35, 39, 40, note. Gerento, abbot of Saint-Bénigne of Dijon, 91, 93, 96, 225. Gersent, daughter of Herbert Éveille-Chien, 72, note. _Gesta Francorum_, 208, 241, 251. _Gesta Normannorum Ducum_, _see_ William of Jumièges. _Gesta Tancredi_, _see_ Ralph of Caen. Gibraltar, 231. Gilbert, an architect (?), 223. Gilbert, bishop of Évreux, 93, 99, 151, 152, 223, 225. Gilbert of Laigle, 57, 75, 77. Gilbert Maminot, bishop of Lisieux, 151. Gilo, poet, 234. Gimildjina (Macedonia), 99, note. Gisors (Eure), 81, 82, 183, 185. Glamorgan, 186. Gloucester, 83; abbey of St. Peter, 27, 167, note, 189; abbot, _see_ Walter; cathedral, 189. Godfrey, duke of Bouillon, leader of the First Crusade, 100, 102, 108, note, 109, 110, 112, 113, 119, 192, note, 195, 197, note, 235, 241; ruler of the Latin Kingdom, 114-117, _passim_, 191, 198, 199; poetic cycle of the Crusade, 192, note, 194, 195, 196. Godfrey of Jumièges, abbot of Malmesbury, 92, note. Gonnor, wife of Riou de Lohéac, 227. Gontier d’Aunay, 159, 160, 162, 165. Gontier, inhabitant of Laigle, 21. Gouffern (Orne), forest of, 127, 144, note. Gournay (Seine-Inférieure), 54, 56. Grandor of Douai, _trouvère_, 192, note, 197, note. Gravençon (Seine-Inférieure), 71, note, 75. Great St. Bernard, pass over the Alps, 96. Gregory VII, pope, 30. Guibert, anti-pope, _see_ Clement III. Guibert of Nogent, 208, 234, 239, 240. Guinemer of Boulogne, pirate chief, 235, 237, 238. Guise, W. V., 189, note. Gulfer, son of Aimeric de Villeray, 23. Guy, son of Gerard le Duc, 223. Guy de Sarcé, 224. Hagenmeyer, Heinrich, 96, note, 104, note, 209, 250, 251. Hainovilla, 79. Halphen, Louis, 9, note. Hamo de Huna, 224. Harim (Syria), 105. Harold, king of the English, 12, note, 40, 232, note. _Harvard Historical Studies_, 207. Haskins, C. H., 81, note, 207, 217, note. Hastings (Sussex), 73, note, 84, 86; battle of Hastings or Senlac, 12, note, 15, note. Helias, count of Maine, son of John of La Flèche, 70, 71, 72, 74, 94, 95, note, 125, 126, 164, 167, 174, 178, 247. Helias of Saint-Saëns, 39, 55, 75, 85, 181; his wife a natural daughter of Robert Curthose, 39. Henry, earl of Warwick, son of Roger of Beaumont, 28, 128. Henry, son of William de Colombières, 229. Henry I, king of England and duke of Normandy, 6, 21, 36, note, 39, 41, note, 42, 49, 52-61, _passim_, 66, 74, 75, 78, 79, 81, 87, 89, 124, 125, 126, 138-154, _passim_, 177-186, _passim_, 200, 201, 202, 225, 247; at war with William Rufus and Robert Curthose in the Cotentin, 62-65; gains the English crown, 120-123; his war with Robert Curthose for possession of England, 127-137; his conquest of Normandy, 155-176. Henry II, king of England, 18, 155, note, 200. Henry, count of Eu, 158. Henry Fitz Henry, the Young King, 18. Henry of Huntingdon, 89, 179, 194, 198, 200, 246, 247. Henry Knighton, 210. Herbert I Éveille-Chien, count of Maine, 71. Herbert II, count of Maine, 7, 8. Herbert Losinga, bishop of Thetford or Norwich, 59, note, 136, note. Hervé, son of Dodeman, 224. Hervé, son of Guyomark, count of Léon, 224. Hiémois, 77, 141, 143, 166. Hilgot, abbot of Saint-Ouen, Rouen, 223. Hippeau, Célestin, 196, note. _Histoire du meurtre de Charles le Bon_, _see_ Galbert of Bruges. _Historia Belli Sacri_ (same as _Tudebodus Imitatus et Continuatus_), 107, note, 198, 199. _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_, _see_ Simeon of Durham. _Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Iherusalem_, _see_ Raymond of Aguilers. _Historia Hierosolymitana_, _see_ Fulcher of Chartres. _Historia Novorum in Anglia_, _see_ Eadmer. _Historia Regum_, _see_ Simeon of Durham. Hoël, duke of Brittany, 33, note. Hoël, bishop of Le Mans, 35, 69, 71-74, _passim_. Holy Cross, 113, note. Holy fire, _see_ Miracle of the holy fire. Holy Lance, 111. Holy Land, 90, 116, 119, 208, 233, 237. Holy see, _see_ Papacy. Holy Sepulchre, 91, 94, 113, note, 114, 119; church of the, 114, 116, 125, note, 199. Holy shroud at Compiègne, 29, note. Holy War, _see_ Crusade. Homage of King Malcolm to William Rufus, 67-68; of the Norman barons to Robert Curthose, 12, 15, 19, 40; of the Norman barons to William Atheling, 184; of Robert Curthose to Fulk le Réchin, count of Anjou, 34; of Robert Curthose and Margaret of Maine to Geoffrey le Barbu, count of Anjou, 9-10; of William, count of Évreux, to Henry I, 158. Hubert, cardinal legate of Gregory VII, 34, note. Hubert, _vicomte_ of Maine, 35. Hugh of Amiens, archbishop of Rouen, 179, note. Hugh of Avranches, earl of Chester, 59, 62, 63, 79. Hugh Bunel, son of Robert de Jalgeio, 112, note. Hugh of Châteauneuf-en-Thymerais, 22, 24. Hugh d’Envermeu, 165, note. Hugh of Este, count of Maine, grandson of Herbert Éveille-Chien, 72, 73, 74. Hugh of Flavigny, 91, note, 96. Hugh of Gournay, 28. Hugh of Grandmesnil, 28. Hugh II, count of Jaffa, 218. Hugh de Monteil, brother of bishop Adhemar of Le Puy, 240, note. Hugh de Montpinçon, brother-in-law of Robert of Grandmesnil, 141. Hugh de Nonant, 143, 160, 162, 177. Hugh Painel, 59, note. Hugh, count of Saint-Pol, 118, note. Hugh of Vermandois, called the Great, brother of King Philip I, 102, 112, 118, note. Ibn el-Athir, 209. Ilger, tutor of Robert Curthose, 6. Ingelbaudus, 224. Inquest of Caen (1091) concerning ducal rights in Normandy, 60, note, 65-66, 80. Insurrection at Rouen, 56-58; of the Manceaux at Sainte-Suzanne, 35. Investiture controversy in England, 127, 129, 132, 136, note, 154, 168-169, 171; in Normandy, 128, 154-155. Iolo Morganwg, _see_ Williams, Edward. Iron Bridge (Djisr el-Hadid), 104. Isle of Wight, 68. Ivo, canonist and bishop of Chartres, 84, note, 85, note, 96, note, 151-153, 168, 208. Ivo, son of Hugh of Grandmesnil, 21, note, 22, 93, 107, note, 108, note, 127, 139, 224. Ivo Taillebois, 215. Ivry (Eure), 75, 76, 78, 145. Jaffa (Palestine), 232, 241, note. Jasper, duke of Bedford, 187. Jebeleh (Syria), 117, 241, 243. Jehoshaphat, valley of, at Jerusalem, 113. Jericho (Palestine), 117. Jerusalem, 39, 90, note, 92, note, 94, 95, 108, 109, 110-113, _passim_, 116, 125, note, 184, 190, 191, 197, 198, 199, 221-226, _passim_, 229, 233, 235, 236, 241, 242, 251; Tower of David at, 114; patriarchs of, _see_ Amulf, Dagobert, Evremar. Jesus College, Oxford, MS., 247. John, bishop of Bath, 136, note. John of La Flèche, 32, 33, 34. John of Meulan, wealthy burgess, 145, 146, 156. Jordan, river, 117. Judicaël, bishop of Saint-Malo, 227. Julian Alps, _see_ Alps. Juliana, natural daughter of Henry I, 145, 156. Kafartab (Syria), 110, 236. Kasim ed-daula Aksonkor, 230. Kavala (Macedonia), 99, note, 100. Kemal ed-Din, 209, 230, 238. Kent, earldom of Odo, bishop of Bayeux, 44, 46. Kerboga of Mosul, 94, note, 108, 111, note, 191, 192, note, 194, 195, 196, 197, note, 250, 251. Kilij Arslan (Soliman II), sultan of Iconium, 101-102, 103, 193, note. Krüger, A.-G., 196, note. La Bruère (Sarthe), treaty of, 33, note, 34, 35, note, 36. La Couture, abbey at Le Mans, 14, note, 73, note. La Ferté-en-Bray (Seine-Inférieure), 54, 55, note, 56, 59, 86. La Flèche (Sarthe), 33, 34. Laigle (Orne), 21, 22, 168, 171. Lance, _see_ Holy Lance. Lands of Matilda, claimed by Henry I, 52, 62. Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, 45. Laodicea ad Mare (Syria), 105, 106, 117, 230-244. Latakia, _see_ Laodicea. Latin Kingdom, 116, 197, 209, 218. Latouche, Robert, 7, note, 9, note, 11, note, 73, note. La Trinité, abbey at Caen, 62, note, 80; cartulary of, 79-80; abbess, _see_ Cecilia. La Trinité, abbey at Fécamp, 11, 43, 49, note, 51, 60, 81, note, 82, 229. Leeds (Yorkshire), 67, note. Legends of Robert Curthose on the Crusade, 190-200; during his long imprisonment, 200-202. Le Hardy, Gaston, 5, note, 205. Le Homme (modern L’Ile-Marie, Manche), 205. Le Houlme, district, 77. Leland, John, antiquary, 189, note. Le Mans (Sarthe), 7, 9, 14, 15, 69-73, _passim_, 90, 125, 126; bishopric of, 35; cathedral of, 229; historian of the bishops of, 69; right of patronage over the see of, 35, 72; abbeys, _see_ La Couture, Saint-Vincent; bishops of, _see_ Arnold, Hoël. Leo IX, pope, 4. Le Prévost, Auguste, 4, note, 127, note. Lessay (Manche), abbey of, 36, note. Levison, Wilhelm, 154, note. Liebermann, Felix, 212. Lincolnshire, 129, note. Lire (Eure), 144. Lisieux (Calvados), simony in connection with the episcopal succession to, 151-154, 177; councils at, 178; bishops of, _see_ Gilbert Maminot, Fulcher. _Livere de reis de Engletere_, 210. _Livre noir_ of Bayeux cathedral, 207. Lohéac (Ille-et-Vilaine), 227. Loire, river, 223. London, 87, 121, 131, 132; Tower of, 128, 179, note; bishop of, _see_ Maurice. Longueville (Seine-Inférieure), 54, 86. Lorraine, 24, 38. Lot, Ferdinand, 5, note, 13, note. Lothian, 31, 67, 68. Louis VI le Gros, king of France, 122, 155, 180, 182, 183, 185. Lucca (province of Lucca), 96. Luchaire, Achille, 18, note. Lucretia, _see_ Ochrida. Lys, river, 217. Mabel, sister of Robert of Bellême and wife of Hugh of Châteauneuf-en-Thymerais, 22. Mabel, wife of Roger of Montgomery, 112, note. Macra, _see_ Makri. Maine, direct rule of Geoffrey Martel established in, 7; William the Conqueror adopts a policy of intervention in, 7-8; Norman domination established in, 8-11; Norman domination overthrown, 14; reconquest by William the Conqueror, 14; aggressive policy of Fulk le Réchin in, 32-34; war between William and Fulk for possession of, 34; insurrection against Norman rule at Sainte-Suzanne, 35; loss of the county by Robert Curthose, 69-75; proposed expedition of Robert Curthose and William Rufus against, 61, 74; aggressive policy of William Rufus in, 125; end of Norman rule in, 125-126; relations of Henry I with, 156; counts of, _see_ Herbert I, Herbert II, Robert Curthose, Hugh of Este, Helias of La Flèche. Mainer, abbot of Saint-Évroul, 25. Makri (Thrace), 99, note. Malbrancq, Jacques, 217. Malcolm Canmore, king of Scotland, 30, note, 31, 65, 67, 68, 213, 215, 216. Malik el-Afdhal, grand vizier of Egypt, 115, 252. Malik-Shah, Seljuk sultan, 230. Malmesbury, abbot of, _see_ Godfrey of Jumièges. Malpalu, suburb of Rouen, 57. Mamistra (Cilicia), 235. Manasses, archbishop of Rheims, 231. Manceaux on the Crusade, 94. Mantes (Seine-et-Oise), 39, 185. Marash (Armenia), 95, 104, note, 208. Margaret, heiress of Maine, sister of Herbert II, 7-11, _passim_, 19. Margaret, queen of Scotland, sister of Edgar Atheling and wife of Malcolm Canmore, 122. Marmoutier (Indre-et-Loire), abbey, 73, note, 221, 223; abbots of, _see_ Bartholomew, Bernard. Maromme (Seine-Inférieure), 164. Marra (Syria), 94, 109, 110, 222. Marriage of Henry I and Matilda, daughter of Malcolm Canmore, 122; of William the Conqueror and Matilda of Flanders, 4-5. Matilda, Queen, wife of William the Conqueror, 4-7, _passim_, 13, 24, 29, 30, note, 36, note, 37, 52, 62. Matilda, Queen, wife of Henry I, god-daughter of Robert Curthose, 122, 131, note, 148. Matilda, countess of Tuscany, 38. Matthew of Edessa, 209. Matthew Paris, 201, 210. Mauger Malherbe, 143, note. Maurice, bishop of London, 121. Meisine, rue (street in Caen), 160. Mély, Ferdinand, 250, 251. Messinopolis, _see_ Gimildjina. Meulan, count of, _see_ Robert. Meyer, Jacques de, 217. Meyer, Paul, 246. Milet, porte (gate at Caen), 160, 166, note. Miracle of the holy fire, 198-199. Moeller, Charles, 217, 218. Monastir (Macedonia), 99, note, 100. Mons Gaudii (Palestine), 229. Montaigu (Mayenne), castle of, 75, note, 77. Montbouin (Calvados), 79. Monte Cassino (province of Caserta), abbey, 97. Montensis (Baldwin _comes de Monte_), 118, note. Montfaucon, Bernard de, antiquary, 249-252, _passim_. Mont-Saint-Michel (Manche), abbey, 36, note, 49, 60, 63, 64, 65, 78, 124. Morel, Émile, 29, note. Mount Bagora, _see_ Bagora. Munkidhites, _see_ Shaizar. Nantes (Loire-Inférieure), 223. National Library of Wales, 188, note. Natura, _see_ Athyra. Neapolis (probably Malgera, Thrace), 99, note. Newcastle upon Tyne (Northumberland) 31. New Forest (Hampshire), 38, 120, 123, 124. Nicaea (Bithynia), 101, 102, 193, 221, 222, 224, 227, 228, 229, 251. Nicholas, brother of Guy de Sarcé, 224. Nicholas Saemundarson, abbot of Thingeyrar, 96, note. Nicomedia (Bithynia), 101. Norgate, Kate, 10, note. Norman church under Robert Curthose, 53, 54, note, 81-82, 150. Norman Conquest of England, 12, 14, 15, 19, 32. Northampton, 169. Northumberland, 31, 47. Norwich, bishop of, _see_ Herbert Losinga. Notre-Dame-du-Pré, priory at Émendreville, 57. Noyon-sur-Andelle (modern Charleval, Eure), 71, note, 75. Nuns of Almenèches, 140, 142, note; of La Trinité at Caen, 79-80, 81. Ochrida (Macedonia), 99, note, 100. Odo, bishop of Bayeux, 16, 18, note, 36, note, 44, 45, 47, 53-55, _passim_, 69, 70, 93, 98-99, 153, 165, 214, 215, 223, 224. Odo, bishop of Treves, 24. Oissel-sur-Seine (Seine-Inférieure), 36. Oliver de Fresnay, 143. Oliver, one of the ‘twelve peers’ of Charlemagne, 194, note. Oman, C. W. C., 245, 246, 248. Omont, Henri, 73, note. Ordericus Vitalis, 4, 19, 21, 24, 34, 36, 37, 38, 44, 53, 65, 70, 79, 81, 116, 127, 128, 135, 140, 141, 147, 158, 159, 161, 163, 164, 173, 205, 206, 208, 225, 232, 233, 236, 237, 239, 240, 245, 246, 247, 248. Orne, river, 77, 160. Orontes, river, 104, 110. Osmond de Gaprée, 70, note. Otranto (province of Lecce), 193. Pain de Mondoubleau, 70, 223, 225. Pain Peverel, 95, 225-226. Pain, brother of Guy de Sarcé, 224. Palermo (Sicily), 98, 220, 223, 225; cathedral of St. Mary at, 99, 225. Palestine, _see_ Holy Land. Palgrave, Sir Francis, 97, note, 118, note. Panados (Thrace), 99, note. Papacy, relations with Henry I, 169; with Robert Curthose, 82, 153-155. Paris, Gaston, 192, 250. Paris, Paulin, 196, note, 197, note. Pascal II, pope, 152, 153, 154, 171, note, 208, 218. Patronage over the bishopric of Le Mans, 72. Paula, daughter of Herbert Éveille-Chien, mother of Helias of La Flèche, 71. Peckham (Kent), 92, note. Penarth (Glamorganshire), promontory of, 188, note. Pension paid by Henry I to Robert Curthose, 134, 138, 148; by William Rufus to Malcolm, king of Scotland, 68. Perche, 94; counts of, _see_ Geoffrey, Rotrou. Persians, 196. Peter the Hermit, 101. Peter Langtoft, 199, 210. Pevensey (Sussex), 47, 49, 50, 52, 130. Pfister, Christian, 5, note. Philip of Bellême, called the Clerk, fifth son of Roger of Montgomery, 93, 226. Philip I, king of France, 12, 23, 25-29, _passim_, 38, note, 39, 55, 56, 59, 70, 73, note, 78, 81-87, _passim_, 122, 164, 170, 180. Philip II Augustus, king of France, 192, note. Philippensium, _see_ Vallis Philippensium. Pigeonneau, Henri, 197, note. _Pilatenses_, faction at Rouen, 56. Pillet, Jean, 29, note. Pirates in the English Channel, 52, note; in the eastern Mediterranean, 105, 235, 237-238. Pisa, archbishop of, _see_ Dagobert. Pledge of Normandy to William Rufus for a loan of 10,000 marks, 91, 95-96. Po, river, 96. Poem in the Welsh language attributed to Robert Curthose, 187-188. Poitou, 90. Polynices the Theban, 37. Pontarlier (Doubs), 96. Ponthieu, 40, note. Pontoise (Seine-et-Oise), 85, note, 96, note, 185. Pont-Saint-Pierre (Eure), 71, note, 75. Popes, _see_ Leo IX, Gregory VII, Urban II, Pascal II, Calixtus II. Porchester (Hampshire), 130, note. Porte Milet, _see_ Milet. Port St. Simeon (Syria), port of Antioch, 231. Portsmouth (Hampshire), 130. Praetoria, _see_ Yenidjeh. Pravista (Macedonia), 99, note. Preparations for the Crusade, 92-96. Private war in England, 139; in Normandy, _see_ Feudal anarchy. Prou, Maurice, 26, note. Public Record Office, 155, note. Quarrel between Bohemond and Raymond over the possession of Antioch, 108-109; between Godfrey and Raymond over possession of the Tower of David at Jerusalem, 114-115; quarrels between Robert and his father, 16-41. Quettehou (Manche), 62, note, 80. Raherius _consiliarius infantis_, 6. Rainerius de Pomera, 226. Ralph of Caen, 193, 208, 209, 218, 219, 222, 228, 232, 233, 234, 239; _Gesta Tancredi_, 193, 208, 219. Ralph, bishop of Chichester, 59, note. Ralph II of Conches (or de Toeny), 22, 43, 58, 60, 70, 78, 140. Ralph III of Conches (or de Toeny), son of Ralph II, 145, 146, 156-157. Ralph de Diceto, 209. Ralph Fitz Anseré, 49, note. Ralph Fitz Bernard, 125, note. Ralph de Gael, one time earl of Norfolk, crusader, 16, note, 94, 226. Ralph of Mortemer, 54, 158. Ralph Niger, 199, 209. Ralph, abbot of Séez, 144, 150; archbishop of Canterbury, 183, note. Ralph II, archbishop of Tours, 73, note. Ramleh (Palestine), 197, 233. Ramsay, J. H., 34, note, 245, 246. Ranulf of Bayeux, 174. Ranulf Flambard, bishop of Durham, 81, 86, 121, 122, 128, 130, 136, 151, 152, 153, 177. Ranulf Higden, 210. Ranulf, abbot of Saint-Vincent of Le Mans, 227. Ravendinos, protospatharius of the Greek emperor, 233. Raymond of Aguilers, 208, 231-234, _passim_, 237, 238, 239, 241; _Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Iherusalem_, 208. Raymond of Saint-Gilles, count of Toulouse, 101, 102, 108-119, _passim_, 198, 231-244, _passim_. Rebellion of 1088 against William Rufus, 45-52; of Robert Curthose against William the Conqueror, 3, 19-27, 36-40. Reconciliation of Robert Curthose and William the Conqueror, 28-30. Red King, _see_ William Rufus. Red Lion (perhaps Kilij Arslan, sultan of Iconium), 196, 250. Regency of Normandy during the absence of William the Conqueror, 13, 15. _Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum_, _see_ Davis, H. W. C. Reginald of Warenne, brother of William of Warenne, earl of Surrey, 57, 159, 160, 170, 171, 173, note. Rehoboam, 20. Reiffenberg, F. A. F. T. Baron de, 196, 210. Rémalard (Orne), 22, 23. Renaud of Grancey, 144. Revolt of the Manceaux against Norman rule, 13-14. Rheims, councils at, 5, 182. Riant, Paul, 234, 236, 238, 250. Richard, son of Fulk of Aunou-le-Faucon, 226. Richard, earl of Chester, son of Hugh of Avranches, 158, 201. Richard de Courcy, 79. Richard son of Herluin, 79. Richard the Fearless, duke of Normandy, 185, note. Richard le Pèlerin, ministrel, 192, note, 197, note. Richard de Redvers, 62, 79, 128. Richard, natural son of Robert Curthose, 38. Ridwan of Aleppo, 106, 194. Riou de Lohéac, 94, 226, 227. Rivallonus, archdeacon of Saint-Malo, 227. Robert of Arbrissel, 227. Robert de Beauchamp, _vicomte_ of Arques, 181. Robert of Bellême, son of Roger of Montgomery, 22, 43, 47, 50, 52, 57, 59, 76, 77, 78, 127, 131, 134, note, 135, note, 139-150, _passim_, 156, 158, 159, 160, 162, 169, 174, 175, 177, 221, 247, note. Robert de Bonebos, 79, 176. Robert the Burgundian, 70. Robert de Courcy, 141. Robert Curthose, _see_ Contents. Robert II d’Estouteville, 160, 165. Robert III d’Estouteville, son of Robert II, 170, 171, 175. Robert, count of Eu, 54. Robert Fitz Hamon, 62, 128, 134, note, 158, 159, 165, 166, note, 187. Robert I the Frisian, count of Flanders, 24. Robert II of Jerusalem, count of Flanders, son of Robert the Frisian, 93, 98, 101, 105-119, _passim_, 170, 182, 198, 227, 241, 242, 243, 251, 252. Robert Géré (or of Saint-Céneri), 75, 77, 143. Robert of Gloucester, chronicler, 210. Robert, earl of Gloucester, natural son of Henry I, 186. Robert, son of Godwin, 233. Robert, son of Hugh of Grandmesnil, 141. Robert Malet, 139. Robert, count of Meulan, son of Roger of Beaumont, 28, 76, 128, 131, 140, 145, 148, 153, 156, 158, 162, 163, 174, note. Robert the Monk, chronicler, 193, 209. Robert de Montfort, 141, 158. Robert, count of Mortain, 35, 49, 50. Robert Mowbray (or de Montbray), earl of Northumberland, 22, note, 79, 222. Robert of Pontefract, son of Ilbert de Lacy, 127, 139. Robert Quarrel, 76. Robert of Saint-Céneri, _see_ Robert Géré. Robert, abbot of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives, 150, 170, 171. Robert of Saint-Rémy-des-Landes, 166, note. Robert of Torigny, 146, 147, 205, 246. Robert the Vicar (_vicarius_), 227. Rochester (Kent), 47, 49-52, _passim_, 62, 69, 150, 215; church of St. Andrew at, 52, note. Rockingham (Northampton), council of, 212. Rodley (Rodele), 189, note. Rodosto (Thrace), 99, note, 100. Roger d’Aubigny, 36, note. Roger of Barneville, 93, 227. Roger of Beaumont, 13, note, 28, 75. Roger de Bienfaite, 22, note. Roger Bigot, 128. Roger Bursa, duke of Apulia, son of Robert Guiscard, 98, 117. Roger of Caux, inhabitant of Laigle, 21. Roger of Gloucester, a knight in the service of Henry I, 167. Roger, earl of Hereford, 16, note. Roger of Ivry, butler of William the Conqueror and warden of the castle at Rouen, 21. Roger de Lacy, _magister militum_ of Robert of Montgomery and brother of Robert of Bellême, 85, 127, 140, 142. Roger, bishop of Salisbury, 180, 186. Roger du Sap, abbot of Saint-Évroul, 54, 66, note, 81. Roger, count of Sicily, 97, 99, 117, 225. Roger of Wendover, 210. Rohes, _see_ Chocques. Röhricht, Reinhold, 209. Roland, one of the ‘twelve peers’ of Charlemagne, 194, note. _Roman de Rou_, _see_ Wace. Rome, 43, note, 97, 152, 155, 169; _see_ St. Peter’s. Rotrou of Mortagne I, count of Perche, 22, 23. Rotrou of Mortagne II, count of Perche, son of Geoffrey II, 94, 143, 156, 158, 227. Rouen (Seine-Inférieure), 21, 28, 39, 42, 43, 44, 53, note, 60, 84, 95, 152, 160, 164, 170, 171, 177, 180, note, 223, 234, 239; insurrection at, 56-58, 62; councils at, 81, 90; cathedral of St. Mary, 81, 82, 146; archbishops of, _see_ William Bonne-Ame, Geoffrey, Hugh of Amiens; abbey, _see_ Saint-Ouen; priory, _see_ Saint-Gervais. Round, J. H., _Calendar of Documents preserved in France illustrative of the History of Great Britain and Ireland_, 207. Rugia (Syria), 109. St. Andrew, church of, _see_ Rochester. Saint-Aubin, abbey at Angers, 126, note. St. Benedict, 97. Saint-Céneri (Orne), 75, 76. Saint-Corneille, abbey at Compiègne, 29, note. St. Cuthbert, _miracula_ of, 216, note. Saint-Denis (Seine), abbey, 192, note, 196, 249-250. Saint-Étienne, abbey at Caen, 16, 19, note, 41, 43, 49, note, 150, 228. Saint-Évroul (Orne), abbey, 25, 70, note, 142, note, 144, note; abbot of, _see_ Mainer. Saint-Gervais, priory at Rouen, 40. Saint-Gilles (Gard), 235. Saint-James (Manche), 79. St. John the Divine, 163. Saint-Julien, abbey at Tours, 36, note, 74, note, 228. Saint-Malo, bishop of, _see_ Judicaël. Saint-Martin of Marmoutier, abbey, _see_ Marmoutier. Saint-Martin of Troarn, abbey, 229; abbot, _see_ Durand. St. Mary of Bec, abbey, _see_ Bec. St. Mary, cathedral of, at Palermo, _see_ Palermo. St. Mary, cathedral of, at Rouen, _see_ Rouen. Saint-Maurice (canton of Valais), abbey, 96. St. Nicholas, church of, at Bari, 98, note, 226. Saint-Nicolas, abbey at Angers, 33, note. Saint-Ouen, abbot of, _see_ Hilgot. St. Peter, church of, at Antioch, 109, note, 227. St. Peter, abbey of, at Gloucester, _see_ Gloucester. St. Peter’s church at Rome, 97. Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives (Calvados), abbey, 150, 154, 171, note, 173, note; abbots of, _see_ Fulk, Robert. Saint-Pol, count of, _see_ Hugh. Saint-Quentin, abbey at Beauvais, 26, note, 27. Saint-Saëns (Seine-Inférieure), 75, note. Saint-Sauveur of Lohéac (Ille-et-Vilaine), abbey, 226, 227. St. Simon of Crépy, 29. St. Stephen, church of, at Jerusalem, 112; abbey at Caen, _see_ Saint-Étienne. Sainte-Suzanne (Mayenne), 35. Saint-Valery-sur-Somme (Somme), 54, 130. Saint-Vincent, abbey at Le Mans, 70, note, 80, 223, 224, 227, 228; abbot, _see_ Ranulf. Salisbury (Wiltshire), 52, note, 211; bishop of, _see_ Roger. Salonica (Macedonia), 99, note, 100. Salumbria, _see_ Silivri. Samson le Breton, messenger of Queen Matilda, 25. Sangarius, river, 102. Saracens, 116, 195, 231. Scotland, raid of King Malcolm in Northumberland and the Conqueror’s retaliation, 31; expedition of William Rufus, Robert Curthose, and Henry I against, 65-68. Secqueville-en-Bessin (Calvados), 159. Séez, bishopric of, 127, 144, 150, 160, 162; bishop of, _see_ Serlo. Seine, river, 54, 56, 57, 58, 60, 70, 75. Senlac, _see_ Hastings. Sepulchre, _see_ Holy Sepulchre. Serlo of Bayeux, poet, 166, note. Serlo, bishop of Séez, 81, 144, 150, 161, 162. Severn Sea (Bristol Channel), 186, 187, 188. Shaizar (Syria), 110; Munkidhites of, 230. Shrewsbury (Shropshire), 139; earl of, _see_ Roger of Montgomery, Robert of Bellême. Sibyl, daughter of Fulk le Jeune, count of Anjou, 184, 185, note. Sibyl of Conversano, duchess of Normandy, wife of Robert Curthose, 123, 146, 147. Sicily, 98, 112, note. Siege of Antioch by the crusaders, 104-107; by Kerboga of Mosul, 107-108; Arka, 110, 111; Bayeux (1105), 165; Gerberoy, 26; Jerusalem, 112-114; Laodicea, 117, 242-243; Marra, 109; Mont-Saint-Michel, 63-65; Nicaea, 101-102; Pevensey, 49-50; Rochester, 51; Tinchebray, 171-172. Silivri (Thrace), 99, note. Sillé-le-Guillaume (Sarthe), 14. Simeon of Durham, _Historia Dunelmensis Ecclesiae_, 212, 213, 216; _Historia Regum_, 206, 213-216, _passim_. Simon de Ludron, 226, 227. Simony practised by Robert Curthose, 150-153. Skumbi, river, 99, note, 100. Soehnée, Frédéric, 5, note. Solesmes (Sarthe), 73, note. Soliman II, sultan of Iconium, _see_ Kilij Arslan. Sorel (Eure-et-Loir), 22. Southampton (Hampshire), 87, 148. Stained-glass window at Saint-Denis, 196, 249-252. Stapleton, Thomas, 4, note, 85, note. Stella, 99, note. Stenton, F. M., 17, note. Stephen, count of Aumale, 54, 58, 93, 118, 158, 228. Stephen, count of Blois and Chartres, brother-in-law of Robert Curthose, 93, 97-101, _passim_, 112, 118, note, 228. Stigand de Mézidon, 8. Suger, abbot of Saint-Denis, 196, 249, 250, note, 251; his stained-glass window at Saint-Denis, 249-252; his _Vie de Louis le Gros_, 206. Surrey, earldom of William of Warenne, 147. ‘Tabarie,’ Saracen king of, 196. Tale of the scarlet robe, 201-202. Talvas (or Bellême), house of, 70, 76, 77, 139, 141. Tancred, nephew of Bohemond, leader of the First Crusade, 102, 104, note, 109, 110, 113, 115, 116, 117, 235. Tarsus (Cilicia), 231, note, 233, note, 235. Tassilly (Calvados), 79. Tavernier, Wilhelm, 153, note. Taxation, _see_ Aid, Danegeld. Tetboldus _gramaticus_, 6. Thetford, bishop of, _see_ Herbert Losinga. Thiel (province of Gelderland), 235, note. Thierry, son of Ralph Fitz Ogier, citizen of Caen, 166, note. Thomas, son of Ranulf Flambard, 151. Thomas de Saint-Jean, 172. Thomas Walsingham, 210. Thorold, bishop of Bayeux, 153, note. Thurstan, archbishop of York, 183, note. Thurstin, son of Turgis, _prévot_ of Luc-sur-Mer, 221, 228. Tickhill (Yorkshire), fortress, 139. Tila, _see_ Thiel. Tinchebray (Orne), 39, 55, 135, 138, 171, 172, 200; battle of, 136, note, 173-176, 177, 180, 192, 206, 245-248. Tirel de Mainières, tutor of William Clito, 181. Title of Robert Curthose before his accession to the duchy of Normandy, 13, note. Tokig, son of Wigod, 26. Tomb of Robert Curthose in Gloucester cathedral, 189, note. Topaz brought from Jerusalem by Robert Curthose, 125, note. Torigny (Manche), 166, note. Tortosa (Syria), 241, note, 244. Toulouse, count of, _see_ Raymond of Saint-Gilles. Tournay-sur-Dive (Orne), 162. Tours (Indre-et-Loire), 73, note, 90, 228; abbey at, _see_ Saint-Julien; archbishop, _see_ Ralph II. Tower of David, _see_ Jerusalem. Tower of London, _see_ London. Tracey, Sir Humphrey, of Stanway, 189, note. Traianopolis, 99, note. Treaty of Alton, 134-136, 137, 138, 141, 148, 157; of La Bruère (or of Blanchelande) between William the Conqueror and Fulk le Réchin, _see_ La Bruère; between Henry I and Robert of Jerusalem, count of Flanders, 155-156; between Robert Curthose and William Rufus (1091), 60-61; between Robert Curthose and William Rufus (1096), 91-92; between William the Conqueror and Geoffrey le Barbu, count of Anjou, 9; between William the Conqueror and Herbert II, count of Maine, 7-8. Tréport (Seine-Inférieure), 128, 130. Treves, bishop of, _see_ Odo. Trial of William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, before the _curia regis_ (1088), 52, note, 211, 212, 214. Troarn, abbey, _see_ Saint-Martin of Troarn. Truce between William the Conqueror and Fulk le Réchin, count of Anjou, _see_ Castellum Vallium. Truman, Thomas, 187. Truman Collection, MSS., 187, note. Tunbridge (Kent), 49. Turcopoles, 235. Tweed, river, 67. Tyne, river, 31. Urban II, pope, 82, 88-91, _passim_, 94-97, _passim_, 108, 223, 224, 228. Usama ibn Munkidh, 209. Vains (Manche), 43. Vallis Philippensium (probably the valley of the Struma), 99, note. Vardar, river, 99, note, 100. Vendôme (Loir-et-Cher), 90. Vernon (Eure), 55. _Versus de Viris Illustribus Diocesis Tarvanensis_, 217. Vexin, 39, 95, note, 185. Via Egnatia, Roman road, 99. _Vie de Louis le Gros_, _see_ Suger. _Vif gage_, 92, note. Vignats (Calvados), 77, 141. Vitalis, a hermit, 172. Vodena (Macedonia), 99, note. Wace, 64, 124, 133, 149, 160, 164, 165-166, note, 190, 195, 209; _Roman de Rou_, 205. W. Cancell., _see_ Waldric, chancellor of Henry I. Waldric, chancellor of Henry I, 169, note, 175. Wales, campaign of William Rufus against the Welsh, 66. Walter Giffard, 54, 127, 147. Walter, abbot of St. Peter’s, Gloucester, 189, note. Walter, son of Judicaël de Lohéac, 226, 227. Walter of Mantes, count of the Vexin, 8, 9. Walter of Saint-Valery, 94, 228. War between Robert Curthose and Henry I for the English crown (1101), 127-136; for possession of Normandy (1104-06), 155-179; between Robert Curthose and William Rufus for the English crown (1088), 47-52; for continental possessions (1089-91), 53-60; war renewed (1094-95), 83-88. Wareham (Dorsetshire), 179. Waverley, annals of, 207. Welsh, _see_ Wales. Wessex, 68. Westminister (Middlesex), 121. Whitby (Yorkshire), abbey, 95, 229. _White Ship_, 184. Wigo de Marra, 228. William, son of Ansger, wealthy citizen of Rouen, 58. William Atheling, son of Henry I, 182, note, 183, 184. William Baivel, 79. William, son of Ranulf de Briquessart, _vicomte_ of Bayeux, 229. William, abbot of Bec, 219. William Bertran, 79. William Bonne-Ame, archbishop of Rouen, 35, 40, 82, 146, 151, 152, 181, note. William de Braitel, son of Geoffrey the _vicomte_, 224, 228-229. William of Breteuil, son of William Fitz Osbern, 22, note, 43, 57, 58, 70, 71, note, 75, 76, 120, 144, 145. William, chamberlain, son of Roger de Candos, 79. William Clito, count of Flanders, son of Robert Curthose, 146, 180-186. William de Colombières, 229. William of Conversano, brother of Duchess Sibyl, 143, 160, 162. William Crispin, 175. William I the Conqueror, king of England and duke of Normandy, 3-44, _passim_, 48, 55, 65-69, _passim_, 75, 76, 79, 90, 112, note, 120, 135, 155, note, 158, 177, 178, 189, note, 220. William II Rufus, king of England and ruler of Normandy, 16, 19, note, 21, 27, 36, 40, 42, 44, 45, 47, 49-75, _passim_, 78, 81, 83-95, _passim_, 120-125, _passim_, 132, 136, note, 140, 144, note, 153, note, 156, 170, 206, 211, 213, 215, 216, 225, 228. William, count of Évreux, 34, 43, 57, 58, 70, 71, note, 75, 78, 79, 140, 143, 144, 146, 158. William, archdeacon of Évreux, bishop-elect of Lisieux, 151-152. William de Ferrières, 175. William Giffard, bishop of Winchester, 121. William of Grandmesmil, 107, note. William of Jumièges, _Gesta Normannorum Ducum_, 205. William, brother of Riou de Lohéac, 227. William of Malmesbury, 3, 17, 27, 38, 61, 95, 146, 149, 170, 183, 190, 193, 195, 198, 206, 208, 209, 211, 233, 237. William, count of Mortain and earl of Cornwall, 131, 134, note, 157, 159, 160, 169, 172, 174, 175, 179. William de Moulins, 22, note. William of Newburgh, 190, note, 209. William de Pacy, 152. William de Percy, 95, 229. William Peverel, 86. William of Poitiers, 205. William, natural son of Robert Curthose, 38. William de Rupierre, 22, note. William of Saint-Calais, bishop of Durham, 33, note, 46, 51, note, 52, note, 59, 65, note, 67, 68, note, 211-216. William of Tyre, 218. William du Vast, 229. William of Warenne I, 55. William of Warenne II, earl of Surrey, son of William of Warenne I, 131, 138, 147, 148, 173, note, 174, note. Williams, Edward (known as Iolo Morganwg), Welsh poet, 187, 188, note. Winchester (Hampshire), 33, 55, note, 120, 122, 130, 131, note, 139, note, 144, note, 171, note; annals of, 136, 207. Windsor (Berkshire), 136, note, 179. Wissant (Pas-de-Calais), 87, 128. Writ of Henry I to the shire-moot of Lincolnshire (1101), 129, note. Wulf, son of King Harold, 42. Yenidjeh (Macedonia), 99, note. York, 132; archbishop of, _see_ Thurstan. PRINTED AT THE HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS CAMBRIDGE, MASS., U. S. A.

Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy

David, Charles W. (Charles Wendell)

1885

1984

['en']

42

{'Normandy (France) -- History -- To 1515', 'Great Britain -- History -- Norman period, 1066-1154', 'Robert II, Duke of Normandy, 1054?-1134', 'Crusades -- First, 1096-1099', 'Nobility -- France -- Normandy -- Biography'}

PG59231

Text

images generously made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library) USEFUL PHRASES IN THE SHANGHAI DIALECT ---------- WITH INDEX-VOCABULARY AND OTHER HELPS ---------- Compiled by Gilbert McIntosh ---------- Second Edition ---------- SHANGHAI AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN MISSION PRESS KELLY AND WALSH, LTD. BREWER AND CO., LTD., AND MAX NÖSSLER AND CO. 1908 CONTENTS Page. Introduction ....................................... i Description of the Shanghai Romanised .............. iii Salutations ........................................ 1 On the Street ...................................... 8 The Merchant ....................................... 12 Going Up-country ................................... 22 The Cook ........................................... 27 Houseboy and Coolie ................................ 36 Amah ............................................... 49 The Gentlemen’s Tailor ............................. 53 The Ladies’ Tailor ................................. 57 The Washerman ...................................... 61 The Mafoo .......................................... 64 Purchasing ......................................... 70 The Chinese Teacher ................................ 73 Numerals ........................................... 77 Classifiers ........................................ 79 Pronouns ........................................... 90 Adjectives, Adverbs, and Conjunctions .............. 91 Directions ......................................... 92 Titles or Designations ............................. 95 Weather ............................................ 97 House Vocabulary ................................... 98 Time ............................................... 101 Index-Vocabulary ................................... 103 INTRODUCTION ---------- The compilation of these phrases was suggested by the frequent requests on the part of busy residents or transient visitors for a handbook containing easily-learned every-day words and phrases. The compiler is well aware that there is no royal road or short cut to learning, and would recommend to those who have the time for the more thorough study of the colloquial a careful study of Dr. Hawks Pott’s “Lessons in the Shanghai Dialect” (or Dr. Yates’ First Lessons in Chinese), and a constant use of the Shanghai Vocabulary, as well as the excellent Chinese-English Dictionary prepared by Messrs. Silsby and Davis. We trust that these phrases will not only be of immediate use to the busy house-wife and merchant, or inquiring tourist, but will be of effective assistance to the student in the acquisition of a knowledge of the idiom. The Chinese mode of thought and method of speech differs so largely from our own that the acquirement of a fluent and familiar use of colloquial Chinese seems only possible by committing to memory, or carefully studying, such sentences as are collected in the following pages. A useful practice would be to rewrite the English word by word, according to the order in the vernacular, so as to perceive the construction of sentences and the peculiar use of verbs, adverbs, prepositions, connective and terminal particles, etc. To aid in the recognition of the English equivalents of the Chinese character or romanised we have added an index and vocabulary of the words used in this book. This will require to be used cautiously, as the meanings given in many cases are not the primary ones, but rather those used in certain phrases. It ought also to be mentioned that the grammatical and topical groups at the end of the book are not complete, but are added for convenience of reference and in the hope that they will tempt to a fuller study through the medium of the more elaborate works. The description of the romanised system used is reproduced, by kind permission, from the material supplied by Rev. J. A. Silsby to accompany the romanised translation of the Police Regulations published by the Shanghai Municipal Council. This system of romanisation was adopted by the Shanghai Vernacular Society in 1899, and has many merits, not the least being the absence of diacritical marks. Grateful thanks are accorded to friends who have helped with advice, particularly to Rev. G. F. Fitch, D.D., Rev. J. A. Silsby, and Mr. Kau Voong-dz (高鳳池). Such help was very necessary from the manner in which various native teachers differed as to pronunciation and idiom. In spite of all the pains taken in the preparation of these sentences and in the revision for this second edition it is possible that errors still remain; the compiler, therefore, will be grateful for corrections, which will be duly noted in prospect of a possible future edition. G. M. Shanghai, 23rd March, 1908. ---------- Description of the Shanghai Romanised System. Nearly all the syllables are represented by the combination of an initial and a final, a system which has been found to be well adapted to the Chinese language. Initials. The Upper Series are—_p_, _’m_, _’v_, _t_, _ts_, _s_, _’l_, _’ny_, _’ng_, _k_, _ky_, _kw_, _i_ and _’w_. These initials are pronounced in most cases much the same as in English, but without aspiration, higher in pitch and with very little vibration of the larynx. The apostrophe before a letter indicates that the letter belongs to the “higher series.” Pure vowel initials also belong to this series. _’ny_ has a sound similar to that of _ni_ in spa_ni_el. _ky_ ＝ _ch_ in _ch_uk with all aspiration eliminated. _i_ as an initial has the sound of _i_ in dahlia. The ASPIRATES are—_ph_, _f_, _th_, _tsh_, _kh_, _ch_, _khw_, _h_, _hy_, and _hw_ (_th_ as in _Th_omson—not as in _th_ing). _ch_ ＝ _ch_ in _ch_urch. _hy_ is nearly like _ti_ in Por_ti_a. The other aspirates are like the corresponding initials of the higher series with the addition of a strong aspiration (indicated by _h_). The Lower Series are—_b_, _m_, _v_, _d_, _dz_, _z_, _l_, _n_, _ny_, _ng_, _g_, _j_, _gw_, _y_, and _w_. Their pronunciation is much the same as in English. They are lower in pitch than corresponding initials of the “higher series,” and have more “voice,” being pronounced with more decided vibration of the larynx. The lower vowel initials, indicated by an inverted comma (‘) and attended with a slight aspiration, belong to this series. Finals. 1. The Vowel Endings are—_a_, _e_, _i_, _au_, _o_, _oo_, _oe_, _eu_, _u_, _ui_, _ia_, _iau_, _ieu_, and _ie_. 2. The Nasal Endings are—(_a_) _an_, _en_, _ien_ and _oen_, in which the _n_ is not sounded, but lengthens out and imparts a nasal quality to the preceding vowel; (_b_) _ang_, _aung_, _oong_, (or _ong_), _ung_ and _iang_, in which _ng_ has the value of _ng_ in so_ng_, but is often nearer the French _n_ in _bon_; (_c_) _uin_, in which _n_ is sonant and has a value varying between _n_ and _ng_. 3. The Abrupt Vowel Endings are—_ak_, _ah_, _eh_, _ih_, _auh_, _ok_, _oeh_, _uh_, and _iak_, in which _h_ and _k_ are the signs of the _zeh-sung_ (入聲), and the vowel is pronounced in a short, abrupt manner. The sounds of the vowels are— _a_ as in f_a_r, except when followed by _n_ or _h_, when it has the sound of _a_ in m_a_n or m_a_t. _e_ as in pr_e_y; before _h_ it has the sound of _e_ as in m_e_t. _i_ „ capr_i_ce; before _h_ or _ng_ it is shortened to _i_ as in m_i_t or s_i_ng. _au_ as in _Au_gust. _o_ or _oo_ as _ou_ in th_ou_gh or in thr_ou_gh. It is really a combination of these two sounds, and is modified by its environment. _oe_ as in G_oe_the (German ö). _eu_ „ French Monsi_eu_r. _u_ „ oo in f_oo_t (always preceded by an _s_ sound). _ui_ „ in fr_ui_t (or rather French ü). In _ia_, _iau_, _ieu_ and _ie_, we have short _i_ followed closely by _a_, _au_, _eu_, and _e_, as described above. Of course it is understood that the Chinese sounds in a majority of cases vary somewhat from the English sounds which are given as the nearest equivalent. The Dok-yoong Z-moo—“Initials _used alone_” i.e., without vowels, are—_ts_, _tsh_, _dz_, _s_, _z_, _an_, _ng_, and _r_. The first five are followed by the vowel sound in the second syllable of _able_—prolonged. Mateer and Bailer use ï for this sound and the new Mandarin Romanized uses _i_[C0]. It is not written, but understood in the Shanghai system. _m_ has the sound of _m_ in chas_m_ and _ng_ the sound of _ng_ in ha_ng_er; _r_ is a sound between final _r_ and _l_. _Tone Marks_.—As in Ningpo and other Woo dialects, tone marks are unnecessary in ordinary letter-press, and are omitted in this book. =_SALUTATIONS_.= ---------- Good morning. 早呀 _Tsau-’a_, 儂早 _Noong tsau_. How are you? (are you well?) 好拉否 _Hau la va?_ Sir, may I ask your name? [to a gentleman, equal, or superior]. 貴姓 or 尊姓 _Kwe-sing?_ (or) _Tsung-sing?_ What is your name? (surname) [to workmen, coolies, etc.] 儂姓啥 _Noong sing sa?_ My humble name [polite form] is Gold. 敝姓金 _Bi sing Kyung_. My name is Gold, [ordinary]. 我姓金 _Ngoo sing Kyung_. What is your “given” name? [polite form]. 大號是啥 _Da-‘au z sa?_ What is your “given” name? [ordinary]. 儂个名頭呌啥 _Noong-kuh ming-deu kyau sa?_ My “given” name is John [polite form]. 賤號的翰 _Dzien ‘au Iak-‘oen_. My “given” name is John. [ordinary]. 我个名頭呌約翰 _Ngoo-kuh ming-deu kyau Iak-‘oen_. Sir, may I ask your age? [polite]. 先生貴庚 _Sien-sang kwe-kang?_ How old are you? [ordinary]. 儂幾歲 _Noong kyi soe?_ I am thirty years old [polite form]. 虛度三十歲 _Hyui doo san-seh soe_. I am thirty years old. [ordinary]. 我三十歲 _Ngoo san-seh soe_. To-day is cold. 今朝是冷 _Kyung-tsau z lang_. To-day is very warm. 今朝蠻暖熱 _Kyung-tsau ’man noen-nyih_. To-day is hot. 今朝頂熱 _Kyung-tsau ting nyih_. There is much wind to-day. 今朝風大 _Kyung-tsau foong doo_. It is raining to-day. 今朝落雨 _Kyung-tsau lauh-yui_. It is beautiful weather to-day. 今朝天氣蠻好 _Kyung-tsau thien-chi ’man-hau_. Recently we have had too much rain. 近來雨水忒多 _Jung-le yui-s thuh-too_. It has been too dry. 近來天氣忒旱 _Jung-le thien-chi thuh ’oen_. What have you come for? 儂來啥尊幹 (or) 儂來啥事體 _Noong le sa tsung-koen,_ (or) _noong le sa z-thi_. Come again in two days. 等兩日再來 _Tung liang nyih tse-le_. Take a cup of tea. 請用一杯茶 _Tshing yoong ih-pe dzo_. Thank you. 謝謝 _Zia-zia_. Do you smoke? 濃吃烟否 _Noong chuh-ien va?_ No, thank you, I do not smoke. 謝謝, 我勿吃 _Zia-zia, ngoo ’veh chuh_. Is business good? 儂个生意好否 _Noong-kuh sang-i hau va?_ It is bad. 勿好 _’Veh hau_. It is fairly good. 還好 _Wan hau_. It is very good. 蠻好 _’Man-hau_. Is your friend well? 儂个朋友好拉否 _Noong-kuh bang-yeu hau la va?_ He is sick. 伊垃拉生病 _Yi leh-la sang-bing_. Good-bye (said by person leaving). 少陪儂 _Sau be noong_. Good-bye (said to person leaving). 慢去 _Man chi_ or _man man chi_ (lit., go slowly). Good-bye (expecting to meet later on). 晏歇會 _An hyih we_. Good-bye (we meet to-morrow). 明朝會 _Ming-tsau we_. Good-bye (we meet again). 再會 _Tse we_. Good-bye (we meet after some days). 間 (or 隔) 日會 _Kan_ (or _kak_) _nyih we_. ---------- _The following anticipate ordinary queries from a Chinese visitor:—_ What is your honorable country? 貴國是那裡一國 _Kwe kok z ‘a-li ih kok?_ My humble country is England. 敝國是英國 _Bi kok z Iung-kok_. ---------- _The following are more colloquial in style:—_ I am an Englishman. 我是英國人 _Ngoo z Iung-kok nyung_. I am an American. 我是美國人 (or 花旗人) _Ngoo z ’Me-kok nyung_ (or _Hwo-ji nyung_). I am a German. 我是德國人 _Ngoo z Tuh-kok nyung_. I am a Frenchman. 我是法國人 _Ngoo z Fah-kok nyung_. When did you come to China? 幾時到中國个 _Kyi-z tau Tsoong-kok kuh?_ I came fifteen years ago. 我 (已經) 來之十五年哉 _Ngoo (i-kyung) le-ts so-ng nyien tse_. Upon what business did you come to China? 儂到中國來做啥 _Noong tau Tsoong-kok le tsoo sa?_ I am a merchant. 我是生意人 _Ngoo z sang-i-nyung_. I am a doctor. 我是醫生 _Ngoo z i-sang_. I am a missionary. 我是傳道个 _Ngoo z dzen-dau kuh_. I am merely visiting. 我來是遊歴个 _Ngoo le z yeu-lih kuh_. I am a commercial traveller. 我來是兜生意个 _Ngoo le z teu sang-i kuh_. I am a ship’s officer. 我拉輪船上辦事个 _Ngoo la lung-zen laung ban z kuh_. Have you a wife? 儂已經成親否 (or) 儂有娘子否 _Noong i-kyung dzung-tshing va?_ (or) _noong yeu nyang-ts va?_ Yes, she is in England. 我有个,伊現在拉英國 _Ngoo yeu kuh; yi yien-dze la Iung-kok_. Yes, she is coming soon. 伊就要來快哉 _Yi zieu iau le khwa tse_. Have you any children? 儂有啥小囝否 _Noong yeu sa siau noen va?_ Three sons and two daughters. 我有三个兒子咾兩个囝 _Ngoo yeu san-kuh nyi-ts lau liang-kuh noen_. What age are they? 伊拉幾歲哉 _Yi-la kyi soe tse?_ The oldest is 20 years old. 頂大个是念歲 _Ting doo kuh z nyan soe_. The youngest is 12 years old. 頂小个是十二歲 _Ting-siau-kuh z zeh-nyi soe_. Give my greetings to your family, 望望儂个一家門 _Maung-maung noong-kuh ih ka-mung_. =_ON THE STREET_.= ---------- Ricksha, come! 東洋車 (or) 東洋車來 _Toong-yang-tsho_ (or) _toong-yang-tsho le!_ Go ahead. 朝前 (or) 走上去 _Dzau-zien_ (or) _tseu-zaung chi_. Go to the right. 到右邊去 _Tau yeu-pien chi_. Go to the left. 到左邊去 _Tau tsi-pien chi_. Go back. 回轉去 _We-tsen chi_. Wait here. 等拉 (or) 等拉第頭 _Tung la_ (or) _tung la di-deu_. I want to go to the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank. 我要到滙豐銀行去 _Ngoo iau tau We-foong nyung-‘aung chi_. I want to go to the German Bank. 我要到德華銀行去 _Ngoo iau tau Tuh-wo nyung-‘aung chi_. I want to go to the Imperial Customs. 我要到新關去 _Ngoo iau tau Sing-kwan chi_. I want to go to the Astor House. 我要到禮査去 _Ngoo iau tau Li-dzo chi_. I want to go to the Club. 我要到總會去 _Ngoo iau tau Tsoong-we chi_. I want to go to the Railway Station. 我要到火車站去 _Ngoo iau tau hoo-tsho dzan chi_. I want to go to the Steamer Jetty. 我要到輪船碼頭去 _Ngoo iau tau lung-zen mo-deu chi_. I do not know the way; take me to the Police Office. 我勿認得路; 儂車我到巡捕房去 _Ngoo ’veh nyung-tuh loo; noong tsho ngoo tau Dzing-boo-vaung chi_. [I have paid] enough. 有哉 (or) 毅哉 _Yeu-tse_ (or) _Keu-tse_. [What I have paid you is] not too little. 勿少拉哉 _’Veh sau la tse_. I have already paid you according to custom. 我巳經照規矩付儂 _Ngoo i-kyung tsau kwe-kyui foo noong_. Go quicker. 跑來快點. _Bau-le khwa-tien_. Go slower. 跑來慢點 _Bau-le man-tien_. Stop. 停 (or) 停下來 _Ding_ (or) _Ding-‘au-le_. Stop for a little while. 停一停 _Ding-ih-ding_. [Because of rain] put up the hood. [爲之落雨] 篷布撑起來 [_We-ts lauh-yui_] _boong-poo tshang-chi-le_. Put the hood back. 蓬布放下去 _Boong-poo faung-‘au-chi_. Have you a waterproof apron? 油布有否 _Yeu-poo yeu va?_ Please tell me where the bank is? 請告訴我銀行拉那裡 _Tshing kau-soo ngoo nyung-‘aung la ‘a-li?_ Please tell me where Chinese books can be bought. 請告訴我那裡可以買中國書 _Tshing kau-soo ngoo ‘a-li khau-i ma Tsoong-kok su_. Please tell me where Foreign books can be bought. 請告訴我外國書那裡好買 _Tshing kau-soo ngoo nga-kok su ‘a-li hau ma?_ Please tell me where foreign clothes can be bought. 請告訴我外國衣裳那裡好買 _Tshing kau-soo ngoo nga-kok i-zaung ‘a-li hau ma?_ Please tell me where there is an eating house or (hotel). 請告訴我那裡有外國飯店 (or 客寓) _Tshing kau-soo ngoo ‘a-li yeu nga-kok van-tien_ (or _khak-nyui_). Take me to the British Consulate. 車我到大英公館去 _Tsho ngoo tau Da-Iung koong-kwen chi_. Take me to the American Consulate. 車我到花旗公館去 _Tsho ngoo tau Hwo-ji koong-kwen chi_. Take me to the Cathedral. 車我到紅禮拜堂去 _Tsho ngoo tau ‘Oong-li-pa-daung chi_. Take me to Union Church. 車我到蘇州河禮拜堂去 _Tsho ngoo tau Soo-tseu-‘oo li-pa-daung chi_. Still another (ricksha) is wanted. 還要一部 _wan iau ih boo_. Can this parcel go into the ricksha? 第个包子車子上擺得落否 _Di-kuh pau-ts tsho-ts laung pa-tuh-lauh va?_ For other useful directions see section on “Direction.” =_THE MERCHANT_.= ---------- Have you any business to-day? 今朝儂有啥事體否 _Kyung-tsau noong yeu sa z-thi va?_ Do you wish to order anything to-day? 今朝儂要定啥貨色否 _Kyung-tsau noong iau ding* sa hoo-suh va?_ Yes, I want to order.* 我要定个 _Ngoo iau ding kuh_. *Ding (定) and Ta (帶) are commonly used in Shanghai as equivalents for “order.” Ding actually contains the idea of contract and money paid; Ta actually contains the idea of bringing the goods with you; but they each have a wider significance. I do not want to order. 我勿要定啥貨 _Ngoo ’veh iau ding sa hoo_. I want to purchase. 我要買 _Ngoo iau ma_. I want to sell. 我要賣脫 _Ngoo iau ma-theh_. It cannot be bought (i.e., Can not sell at that price). 買勿動 _Ma ’veh doong_. It can be bought (i.e., Can sell at that price). 買得動 (or 可以買) _Ma tuh-doong_ (or _Khau-i ma_). What do you want to buy? 儂要買啥物事 _Noong iau ma sa meh-z?_ Will you sell? 儂要賣脫否 _Noong iau ma-theh va?_ What is the price of this? 第个啥價錢 _Di-kuh sa ka-dien?_ [This] price is too dear. 價錢忒貴 _Ka-dien thuh kyui_. When will the goods come? 貨色幾時到 _Hoo-suh kyi-z tau?_ If too late I cannot use them. 若是忒慢我用勿著 _Zak-z thuh man, ngoo yoong-’veh-dzak_. These goods are worse than last time. 第回个貨色比上次恘 (or 退班) _Di-we kuh hoo-suh pi zaung ths cheu (or the-pan)_. To-day I have goods to be imported. 今朝我有貨色進口 _Kyung-tsau ngoo yeu hoo-suh tsing-kheu_. To-day I have goods to export. 今朝我有貨色出口 _Kyung-tsau ngoo yeu hoo-suh tsheh-kheu_. To-day I have goods to tranship. 今朝我有貨色過船 _Kyung-tsau ngoo yeu hoo-suh koo-zen_. To-day I have goods to re-export. 今朝我有貨色轉口 _Kyung-tsau ngoo yeu hoo-suh tsen-kheu_. How much duty on these goods? 第个貨色要完幾化稅 _Di-kuh hoo-suh iau wen kyi-hau soe?_ Has the Duty Memo come? 稅單有來否 _Soe-tan yeu le va?_ Have you received the Duty Memo? 稅單儂收着末 _Soe-tan noong seu-dzak meh?_ [Duty Memo] has not come yet. [稅單]還勿曾到 _Wan ’veh-zung tau_. Duty has been paid. 稅已經完拉哉 _Soe i-kyung wen la tse_. Duty has not been paid. 稅勿曾完過 _Soe ’veh-zung wen-koo_. Please pay your duty. 請完儂个稅 _Tshing wen noong-kuh soe_. Make out the Import application. 要預備進口單 _Iau yui-be tsing-kheu-tan_. Make out the Export application. 要預備出口單 _Iau yui-be tsheh-kheu-tan_. Take delivery of the goods at once. 貨色就要提轉來 _Hoo-suh zieu iau di-tsen-le_. Put these goods in the godown. 貨色可以寄拉棧房裡 _Hoo-suh khau-i kyi la dzan-vaung-li_. When one’s own godown is meant, 上 _zaung_ is used in place of 寄 _kyi_. Is there any storage? 要啥棧租否 _Iau sa dzan-tsoo va?_ How much storage is there? 要幾化棧租 _Iau kyi-hau dzan-tsoo?_ Among them, four bales are damaged by water; I cannot receive them. 內中四件有水濕个, 我勿能收 _Ne-tsong-s-jien yeu s sah-kuh; ngoo ’veh-nung seu_. You brought the delivery order too late, therefore I cannot pay storage. 儂提單送來忒晏, 所以我勿能付棧租 _Noong di-tan soong le thuh-an, soo-i ngoo ’veh-nung foo dzan-tsoo_. The goods are now at Pootung. 貨色現在拉浦東 _Hoo-suh yien-dze la Phoo-toong_. Do you want a Customs Pass? 儂要派司否 _Noong iau pha-s va?_ Yes, I want one. 要个 _Iau-kuh_. No, I do not want any. 勿要 _’Veh iau_. How many passes do you want? 儂要幾張派司 _Noong iau kyi tsang pha-s?_ I want one pass. 我要一張派司 _Ngoo iau ih-tsang pha-s_. I want two passes. 我要兩張派司 _Ngoo iau liang-tsang pha-s_. Please put my goods through the Customs quickly. 我个貨色請儂快點報關 _Ngoo-kuh hoo-suh tshing noong khwa-tien pau kwan_. Has the steamer arrived? 輪船到末 _Lung-zen tau meh?_ When will the steamer arrive? 輪船幾時到 _Lung-zen kyi-z tau?_ What is the name of the steamer? 輪船个名頭呌啥 _Lung-zen-kuh ming-deu kyau sa?_ To what Company does the steamer belong? 啥人家行裡个輪船 _Sa-nyung-ka ‘aung-li-kuh lung-zen?_ At what wharf is she discharging? 拉那裏一个碼頭缷貨 _La ‘a-li ih-kuh mo-deu sia-hoo?_ At Hongkew (Jardine’s) Wharf. 拉虹口怡和碼頭 _La ‘Oong-kheu Yi-woo Mo-deu_. At Pootung Wharf. 拉浦東碼頭 _La Phoo-toong Mo-deu_. At China Merchants’ Lower Wharf. 拉招商局北棧碼頭 _La Tsau-saung jok Pok-dzan Mo-deu_. At Yangtze Wharf. 拉揚子碼頭 _La Yang-ts Mo-deu_. At Old Ningpo Wharf. 拉老甯波碼頭 _La Lau Nyung-poo Mo-deu_. What are your shipping marks? 㑚个記號 [or 墨頭] 是啥 _Na-kuh kyi-‘au_ [or _muh-deu_] _z sa?_ To-day exchange (shilling) is good. 今朝先令行情蠻好 _Kyung-tsau sien-ling ‘aung-dzing ’man-hau_. To-day exchange is rising. 今朝先令行情漲者 _Kyung-tsau sien-ling ‘aung-dzing tsang-tse_. How is exchange (native) to-day? 今朝个釐頭是那能 _Kyung-tsau kuh li-deu z na-nung?_ Exchange has gone up. 釐頭漲哉 _Li-deu tsang-tse_. Exchange has gone down. 釐頭跌哉 _Li-deu tih tse_. Silver is strong to-day. 今朝个銀根寬 _Kyung-tsau-kuh nyung-kung khwen_. Silver is weak to-day. 今朝个銀根緊 _Kyung-tsau-kuh nyung-kung kyung_. What is your opinion of exchange? 儂个意思釐頭那能 _Noong-kuh i-s li-deu na-nung?_ I cannot say. 我勿能話 _Ngoo ’veh nung wo_. I think it will go up. 我想要漲點 _Ngoo siang iau tsang-tien_. I think it will go down. 双想要跌點 _Ngoo siang iau tih-tien_. How is business to-day? 今朝个生意那能 _Kyung-tsau-kuh sang-i na-nung?_ Is your business good? 儂个生意好否 _Noong-kuh sang-i hau va?_ Is there any improvement? 有啥起色否 _Yeu sa chi-suh va?_ No, about the same. 差勿多 _Tsho-’veh-too_. How is the market? 市面那能 _Z-mien na-nung?_ The market is steady. 市面是穩當个 _Z-mien z ’wung-taung-kuh_. Prices are high to-day. 今朝个價錢貴哉 _Kyung tsau-kuh ka-dien kyui-tse_. Prices are low to-day. 今朝个價錢[C1]哉 Kyung-tsau-kuh ka-dien jang tse. The market is much stronger. 市面寬子多化哉 _Z-mien khwen-ts too-hau tse_. The market is much weaker. 市面緊子多化哉 _Z-mien kyung-ts too-hau tse_. How is the cotton market to-day? 今朝棉花市面那能 _Kyung-tsau mien-hwo z-mien na-nung?_ This year’s tea business is better than last year’s. 今年茶葉市面此舊年好點 _Kyung-nien dzo-yih z-mien pi jeu-nien hau-tien_. At present trade in foreign goods is not very remunerative. 近來做洋貨生意勿能賺銅錢个 Jung-le tsoo yang-hoo sang-i veh-nung dzan doong-dien-kuh. Call the compradore. 請賬房 (or 買辦) 來 _Tshing tsang-vaung_ (or _’ma-ban_) _le_. Call the shroff. 呌收賬个 (or 式老夫) 來 _Kyau seu-tsang-kuh_ (or _seh-lau-fu_) _le_. Call the coolie. 呌出店 (or 小工) 來 _Kyau tsheh-tien_ (or _siau-koong_) _le_. Take this letter to the Chinese Post office. 第个信送到郵政局去 _Di-kuh sing soong tau Yeu-tsung-jok chi_. British Post Office. 大英書新館 _Da-iung Su-sing-kwen_. United States Post Office. 花旗書信館 _Hwo-ji Su-sing-kwen_. German Post Office. 德國書信館 _Tuk-kok Su-sing-kwen_. French Post Office 法國書信館 _Fah-kok Su-sing-kwen_. Japanese Post Office. 東洋書信館 _Toong-yang Su-sing-kwen_. Russian Post Office. 俄國書信館 _Ngoo-kok Su-sing-kwen_. Just now I am very busy; come again. 現在我忙來死,後首再來 _Yien-dze ngoo maung-le-si; ‘eu-seu tse le_. Come back to-morrow. 明朝再來 _Ming-tsau tse le_. Come back this afternoon. 下半日再來 ‘Au-pen-nyih tse le_. =_GOING UP-COUNTRY_.= ---------- Call a native boat. 呌一隻本地船 _Kyau ih-tsak pung-di zen_. I want to go to the hills.* 我要到山上去 _Ngoo iau tau San-laung chi_. *To many Shanghai people “the hills” mean: 茶山, _Dzo San_. I want to go to Soochow. 我要到蘇州去 _Ngoo iau tau Soo-tseu chi_. I want to go to the Great Lake. 我要到太湖去 _Ngoo iau tau Tha-‘oo chi_. I want to go to Hangchow. 我要到杭州去 _Ngoo iau tau ‘Aung-tseu chi_. Laudah, how many men are required for this boat? 老大第隻船上用幾个人 _Lau-da, di-tsak zen-laung yoong kyi-kuh nyung?_ I require four men. 我必要用四个人 _Ngoo pih-iau yoong s-kuh nyung_. What is the total outlay each day for this boat? 第隻船每日要幾化費用 _Di-tsak zen ’me-nyih iau kyi-hau fi-yoong?_ You must arrange for a tow. 儂要預備拖个小火輪船 _Noong iau yui-be thoo-kuh siau hoo-lung-zen_. What is the cost of the tow to Soochow? 到蘇州小火輪个拖錢耍幾化 _Tau Soo-tseu siau hoo-lung-zen-kuh thoo-dien iau kyi-hau?_ What is the cost of the tow to Hangchow? 到杭州小火輪个拖錢要幾化 _Tau ‘Aung-tseu siau hoo-lung-zen-kuh thoo-dien iau kyi-hau?_ The boat must be made clean. 船要收作來乾淨 _Zen iau seu-tsauh-le koen-zing_. When does the tide ebb? 潮水幾時退 (or 落). _Dzau-s kyi-z the_ (or _lauh_)? When does the tide flow? 潮水幾時漲 (or 來) _Dzau-s kyi-z tsang_ (or _le_)? Now the tide is contrary. 現在是逆水 _Yien-dze z nyuh-s_. Now the tide is favorable. 現在是順水 _Yien-dze z zung-s_. To-night the boat must stop here. 今夜船要停拉此地 _Kyung-ya zen iau ding la tsh-di_. Shut the windows. 要關窗 _Iau kwan tshaung_. Open the windows. 要開窗 _Iau khe tshaung_. Bring some hot water. 拿點熱水來 _Nau tien nyih-s le_. Bring some cold water. 拿點冷水來 _Nau tien lang-s le_. We start at one o’clock. 伲要一點鐘開船 _Nyi iau ih tien-tsoong khe zen_. We go back to Shanghai. 伲要回到上海去 _Nyi iau we tau Zaung-he chi_. You must yulo (scull) more quickly. 搖來快點 _Yau-le khwa-tien_. Now the wind is favorable. 現在是順風 _Yien-dze z zung-foong_. Raise the sail. 可以扯蓬 _Khau-i tsha boong_. Lower the sail. 可以落蓬 _Khau-i lauh boong_. Tow the boat. 要拖縴 _Iau thoo-chien_. When will our boat arrive? 伲个船幾時到 _Nyi-kuh zen kyi-z tau?_ Roll up the bedding. 舖蓋打去來 _Phoo-ke tang-chi-le_. Call coolies. 呌小工來 _Kyau siau-koong le_. Call two sedan chairs. 呌兩頂轎子來 _Kyau liang-ting jau-ts le_. Take the bedding and luggage to my house. 舖蓋咾行李送到我个屋裡 _Phoo-ke lau ‘ang-li soong tau ngoo-kuh ok-li_. Do not forget the things. 物事勿要忘記 _Meh-z ’veh iau maung-kyi_. When does the railway train start from Shanghai for Soochow? 火車從上海到蘇州幾點鐘開車 _Hoo-tsho dzoong Zaung-he tau Soo-tseu kyi tien-tsoong khe tsho?_ In the morning it starts at 8.45;* arriving at Soochow at 10.47 a.m.* 早晨八點三刻開車, 十點三刻過二分到蘇州 _Tsau zung pah-tien san-khuh khe tsho, zeh-tien san-khuh koo nyi fung tau Soo-tseu_. The first class fare from Shanghai to Soochow is $3.15.* 上海到蘇州頭等客位三塊一角五分 _Zaung-he tau Soo-tseu deu-tung khak-we san khwe ih kauh ng fung_. The second class is $1.60; the third class is 85 cents.* 二等客位一塊六角, 三等客位八角五分 _Nyi-tung khak-we ih khwe loh kauh; San-tung khak-we pah kauh ng fung_. Each passenger can take .... packages, weighing 60 lbs.* 每人可以帶〇件行李, 重六十磅 Me nyung khau-i ta .... jien ‘ang-li, dzoong lok-seh paung. *These times and fares were correct at date of printing; but as alterations are inevitable these must not be taken as a guide. When you come to the station, call a chair to go into the city. 儂到之車站可以呌一頂轎子進城 Noong tau-ts tsho-dzan khau-i kyau ih-ting jau-ts tsing dzung. =_THE COOK_ (大司務).= ---------- To cook. 燒 _Sau_. To boil. 煠 or 燉 _Zah_ (or _tung_). To roast, bake or toast. 烘 _Hoong_. To fry. 煎 _Tsien_. To broil. 燻 or 烤 _Hyuin_, or _khau_ (not much used). To steam. 蒸 _Tsung_. To stew.* 燉 or 熓 or 𤒘 _Tung_, or _’oo_ or _tok_. *No exact term in Shanghai colloquial; cooks in imitation of the English sound say “S-thoo” 水拖. Boil water for tea. 燉茶 _Tung dzo_. Make tea (by pouring boiling water on the leaves). 𣶐 (or 泡) 茶 _Phau dzo_. Boiled (_or_ boiling) water. 開-水 _Khe s_, 滾水 _Kwung-s_. Go and buy (literally cook) some hot (boiled) water. 去𣶐點開水來 _Chi phau tien khe-s le_. Buy some hot water. 買點熱水 _Ma tien nyik-s_. Buy some hot (_i.e_., boiled) water (for drinking). 買點開水 _Ma tien khe-s_. Make chicken soup. 要做雞湯 _Iau tsoo kyi-thaung_. Make chicken jelly. 要做雞絲凍 _Iau tsoo kyi s-toong_. Make calves’ foot jelly. 要做小牛脚凍 _Iau tsoo siau-nyeu kyak-toong_. Go to the market and buy (1) Meat, (2) Fish, (3) Vegetables, (4) Chicken, (5) Hen’s Eggs, (6) Pheasant, (7) Ducks, (8) Wild Goose, (9) Goose, (10) Turkey, (11) Snipe, (12) Small Water Duck, (13) Oranges, (14) Pumelo, (15) Apples, (16) Peaches, (17) Apricots, (18) Biboes, (19) Strawberries, (20) Lichees, (21) Pineapple, (22) Grapes, (23) Beans, (24) String Beans, (25) Cabbage, (26) Spinach, (27) Cauliflower, (28) Turnips, (29) Carrots, (30) Shoulder of Mutton, (31) Leg of Mutton, (32) Mutton Chops, (33) Roast Beef, (34) Steak, (35) Bread, (36) Biscuits, (37) Milk, (38) Butter, (39) Tea, (40) Sugar, (41) Coffee, (42) Rice, (43) Flour, (44) Oatmeal, (45) Salt, (46) Matches, (47) Kerosene Oil, (48) Coals, (49) Charcoal, (50) Firewood. 到街上去買 (1) 肉, (2) 魚, (3) 蔬菜, (4) 雞, (5) 雞蛋, (6) 野雞, (7) 鴨 (8) 野鵝, (9) 鵝, (10) 火雞, (11) 竹雞, (12) 小水鴨, (13) 橘子, (14) 文旦, (15) 蘋果, (16) 桃子, (17) 杏子, (18) 枇杷, (19) 外國楊梅, (20) 茘枝, (21) 婆羅蜜, (22) 葡萄, (23) 荳, (24) 刀荳, (25) 捲心菜, (26) 菠菜, (27) 花菜, (28) 蘿蔔, (29) 紅蘿蔔, (30) 羊个前腿 or 後腿, (31) 羊个後背, (32) 腰窩, (33) 燒肉坯, (34) 牛肉排, (35) 饅頭, (36) 𩝣餅, (37) 牛奶, (38) 奶油, (39) 茶葉, (40) 糖, (41) 茄菲, (42) 米, (43) 米粉, (44) 大麥粉, (45) 鹽, (46) 自來火, (47) 火油, (48) 煤, (49) 炭, (50) 柴. _Tau ka-laung chi ma_ (1) _nyok_, (2) _ng_, (3) _soo-tshe_, (4) _kyi_, (5) _kyi-dan_, (6) _ya-kyi_, (7) _ah_, (8) _ya-ngoo_, (9) _ngoo_, (10) _hoo-kyi_, (11) _tsok-kyi_, (12) _siau-s-ah_, (13) _kyoeh-ts_, (14) _vung-tan_, (15) _bing-koo_, (16) _dau-ts_, (17) _‘ang-ts_, (18) _bih-bo_, (19) _Nga-kok yang-me_, (20) _li-ts_, (21) _poo-loo-mih_, (22) _beh-dau_, (23) _deu_, (24) _tau-deu_, (25) _kyoen-sing-tshe_, (26) _poo-tshe_, (27) _hwo-tshe_, (28) _Lau-bok_, (29) _‘oong lau-bok_, (30) _yang-kuh dzien-the_ (or _‘eu-the_), (31) _yang-kuh ‘eu-pe_, (32) _iau-oo_, (33) _sau-nyok-phe_, (34) _nyeu-nyok-ba_, (35) _men-deu_, (36) _thah-ping_, (37) _nyeu-na_, (38) _na-yeu_, (39) _dzo-yik_, (40) _daung_, (41) _kha-fi_, (42) _mi_, (43) _mi-fung_, (44) _da-mak-fung_, (45) _yien_, (46) _z-le-hoo_, (47) _hoo-yeu_, (48) _me_, (49) _than_, (50) _za_. Don’t use pork fat to fry. 勿要用猪油煎 _’Veh iau yoong ts-yeu tsien_. Use beef fat to fry. 要用牛油煎 _Iau yoong nyeu-yeu tsien_. Is it ready? 好末 or 好哉否 _Hau meh_ (or _hau tse va?_) Keep this; we can use to-morrow. 要擺拉, 明朝再用 _Iau pa-la; ming-tsau tse yoong_. This is too salt. 第个忒鹹 _Di-kuh thuk ‘an_. This is too fresh (has not enough salt). 第个忒淡 _Di-kuh thuh dan_. This is under-cooked. 燒來忒生 _Sau le thuh sang_. This is cooked too long. 燒來忒熟 _Sau le thuh zok_. This needs a hot fire. 要旺火燒 _Iau yaung-hoo sau_. This wants a slow fire. 要文火燒 _Iau vung-hoo sau_. Warm this meat. 熱熱第个肉 _Nyih-nyih di-kuh nyok_. Get it ready presently. 就要燒 _Zieu iau sau_. Get it ready quickly. 快點燒 _Khwa-tieu sau_. All meals must be ready on time. 吃飯要有一定个時候 _Chuh-van iau yeu ih-ding-kuh z-‘eu_. This cooking stove is broken; have it repaired. 鐵灶有毛病要修 _Thih-tsau yeu mau-bing; iau sieu_. The flue (or chimney) is choked; have it cleaned. 煙囱塞沒, 要通 _Ien-tshoong suh-meh, iau thoong_. Black the stove. 鐵灶要刷黑 _Thih-tsau iau seh huk_. This is not the stove brush; exchange for another. 第个勿是鐵灶个刷帚,要換別个 _Di-kuh ’veh-z thih-tsau-kuh seh-tseu; iau wen bih-kuh_. This brush is broken; buy a new one. 第个刷巳經壞脫,要買新个 _Di-kuh seh i-kyung wa-theh; iau ma sing-kuh_. I have no black lead. 我勿有黑煤 or 黑鉛 _Ngoo ’veh yeu huh-me_ (or _huh khan_). This pot leaks; have it mended. 第个壺漏者, 要修 (or 要銲) _Di-kuh ‘oo leu tse; iau sieu_ (or _iau ‘oen_—solder.) This pot is cracked and can’t be mended. 第个壺迸開, 勿能再修 _Di-kuh ‘oo pang-khe, ’veh nung tse sieu_. I want to buy a new kettle. 我要買一把新个水壺 _Ngoo iau ma ih-po sing-kuh s-‘oo_. I want to buy a large covered jar. 我要買一个有蓋个缽頭 _Ngoo iau ma ih-kuh yeu-ke-kuh peh-deu_. I want to buy a small kong. 我要買一隻小缸 _Ngoo iau ma ih-tsak siau-kaung_. Buy a ton of soft coal and half a ton of hard coal. 買一噸煙煤咾半噸白煤 _Ma ih-tung ien-me lau pen-tung bak-me_. Buy a basket of charcoal. 買一蔞炭 _Ma ih-leu than_. Have you bought the firewood? 生火个柴買哉否 _Sang-hoo-kuh za ma tse ’va?_ [I] want [you] to buy ice. 要買點氷 _Iau ma tien ping_. Put this in the ice-box. 第个物事要擺拉氷箱裡 _Di-kuh meh-z iau pa la ping-siang li_. [I want you to] clean out the ice-box. 氷箱要弄乾淨 _Ping-siang iau loong koen-zing_. The ice-box is leaking; have it mended. 氷箱有漏, 要修好 _Ping-siang yeu leu; iau sieu-hau_. Bring some boiling water. 担滾水 (or 開水) 來 _Tan kwung-s_ (or _khe-s le_.) Make a bowl of arrowroot. 冲一碗藕粉來 _Tsoong ih-’wen ngeu-fung le_. Make it thicker than yesterday. 要比昨日厚點 _Iau pi zauh-nyih ‘eu-tien_. I am going out; you look after the house. 我要出去, 儂要當心房子 _Ngoo iau tsheh-chi; noong iau taung-sing vaung-ts_. A friend has asked me to go out to dinner; you don’t need to prepare. 有朋友請我吃夜飯, 儂勿要預備哉 _Yeu bang-yeu tshing ngoo chuh ya-van; noong ’veh iau yui-be tse_. To-day get supper ready half an hour earlier. 今朝夜飯要早半點鐘 _Kyung-tsau ya-van iau tsau pe-tien-tsoong_. Call me at 6 o’clock to-morrow morning. 明朝早晨六點鐘要呌我 _Ming-tsau tsau-zung lok tien-tsoong iau kyau ngoo_. Go to the market early to-morrow morning. 明朝要早點到街上去 _Ming-tsau iau tsau-tien tau ka-laung chi_. I want to take the accounts now. 現在要算賬 _Yien-dze iau soen-tsang_. Your account is all right. 儂个賬勿錯 or 對个 _Noong-kuh tsang ’veh tsho_ (or _te kuh_). Your account has a mistake. 儂个賬勿對 or 有錯 _Noong-kuh tsang ’veh te_ (or _yeu tsho_). Your account is more than mine. 儂个賬比我多 _Noong-kuh tsang pi ngoo too_. Your account is less than mine. 儂个賬此我少 _Noong-kuh tsang pi ngoo sau_. I have already paid this. 第个賬我已經付拉哉 _Di-kuh tsang ngoo i-kyung foo-la-tse_. I will pay you to-morrow. 明朝付儂 _Ming-tsau foo noong_. Next week I will pay you. 下禮拜付儂 _‘Au li-pa foo noong_. =_HOUSE BOY_ (西崽) _and COOLIE_ (出點).= ---------- Light the lamp. 要點燈 _Iau tien tung_. Call the cook. 呌大司務來 Kyau da-s-voo le. Call the coolie. 呌出店來 (or 苦力) _Kyau tsheh-tien le_ (or _Khoo-lih_). (小工 _Siau koong_ is frequently used for “coolie,” especially for coolie for outside work). Call a ricksha. 呌一部東洋車來 _Kyau ih-boo toong-yang-tsho le_. Set the table. 要擺檯子 (or 要預備檯子) _Iau ba de-ts_ (or _Iau yui-be de-ts_). There are guests coming to-day for tiffin. 今朝有客人來吃中飯 _Kyung-tsau yeu khak-nyung le chuh tsoong van_. To-day four guests come to dinner (evening meal). 今朝有四个客人來吃夜飯 _Kyung-tsau yeu s-kuh khak-nyung le chuh ya-van_. Call an extra boy to help [you.] 要另外呌一个西崽來相帮 _Iau ling-nga kyau ih-kuh si-tse le siang-paung_. Clean this room. 第間房子要收作乾淨 _Di-kan vaung-ts iau seu-tsauh koen-zing_. Wash this floor. 第个地板要淨 _Di-kuh di-pan iau zing_. Sweep this floor. 第个地板要掃 _Di-kuh di-pan iau sau_. The door, windows, and base-board of this room I want you to wash. 第間房子裡个門窗咾跌脚板全要淨 _Di-kan vaung-ts-li kuh mung, tshaung, lau tih-kyak-pan zen iau zing_. This is not clean; do it again. 第頭勿曾乾淨, 要再做 _Di-deu ’veh-zung koen-zing, iau tse tsoo_. Use soap and brush it. 要用肥皂來刷 _Iau yoong bi-zau le seh_. Don’t use a brush here. 第頭勿要用板刷 _Di-deu ’veh iau yoong pan-seh_. You must scour the table. 檯子要擦 _De-ts iau tshah_. Wipe the table. 檯子要揩 _De-ts iau kha_. Bring a feather brush. 担雞毛撢帚來 _Tan kyi-mau-toen-tseu le_. Dust the pictures. 晝圖要撢乾淨 _Wo-doo iau toen koen-zing_. Use a cloth to dust the room. 第間房子要用布揩乾淨 _Di-kan vaung-ts iau yoong poo kha koen-zing_. This cloth is dirty; you must wash it. 第个揩布齷齪, 要淨 _Di-kuh kha-poo auh-tshauh, iau zing_. Dust (or clean) all things in this room. 第間房子裡个物事, 全要揩乾淨 _Di-kan vaung-ts-li kuh meh-z, zen iau kha koen-zing_. Clean the windows. 玻璃窗要揩乾淨 _Poo-li-tshaung iau kha koen-zing_. These curtains are dirty, change to clean ones. 第个窗帘齷齪, 要換乾淨个 _Di-kuh tshaung-lien auh-tshauh, iau wen koen-zing-kuh_. Brush this table cover. 第个檯布要刷 _Di-kuh de-poo iau seh_. Put these books in order. 第个書要擺好 _Di-kuh su iau pa-hau_. Put these things in their proper place. 各樣物事, 要擺拉應該个地方 _Kauh-yang meh-z iau pa la iung-ke-kuh di-faung_. Please come and help me. 請儂來相帮我 _Tshing noong le siang-paung ngoo_. This box (trunk) I want taken over there. 第隻箱子要搬到伊頭去 _Di-tsah siang-ts iau-pen tau i-deu chi_. Where are you? 儂拉那裡 _Noong la ‘a-li?_ If you want to go out, first tell me. 儂要出去, 先告訴我 _Noong iau tsheh-chi, sien kau-soo ngoo_. Why are you so idle? 爲啥實蓋懶惰 _We-sa zeh-ke lan-doo?_ At the end of the month you can go. 做到月底儂可以停 (or 可以去) _Tsoo tau nyoeh-ti, noong khau-i ding_ (or _khau-i chi_). If you go home, you must get me a substitute. 若是儂歸去, 要呌替工 _Zak-z noong kyiu-chi, iau kyau thi-koong_. [We] want to use another boy. 再要用一个西崽 _Tse iau yoong ih-kuh si-tse_. Can you get me a coolie? 儂可以尋 (or 呌) 一个苦力否 _Noong khau-i zing_ (or _kyau_) _ih-kuh khoo-lih va?_ If you want to go (stop work) you must wait till the end of the month. 若是儂要停, 要做到月底 _Zak-z noong iau ding, iau tsoo tau nyoeh-ti_. [If] you want to go (_or_ stop work), you must wait till I find new man. 儂要停, 等我尋著新个人 _Noong iau ding, tung ngoo zing-dzak sing-kuh nyung_. If you go now it is not convenient to pay your wages. 現在停, 勿便付儂工錢 _Yien-dze ding, ’veh bien foo noong koong-dien_. [I] will pay at the end of the month. 到月底咾付儂 _Tau nyoeh-ti lau foo noong_. [If you] go now I will cut your wages. 現在停, 我要齾儂工錢 _Yien-dze ding, ngoo iau ngah noong koong-dien_. This cook is not a very good one. 第个大司務勿大好 _Di-kuh da-s-voo ’veh da hau_. This coolie is also very lazy. 第个苦力也是懶惰 _Di-kuh khoo-lih ‘a-z lan-doo_. I want to put up the stove for this room at once. 第間个火爐就裝起來 _Di-kan kuh hoo-loo zieu tsaung-chi-le_. You must first brush it. 先要刷乾淨 _Sien iau seh-koen-zing_. Brush these shoes. 第雙鞋子要刷 _Di-saung ‘a-ts iau seh_. Brush these clothes and hang in the sun. 衣裳刷之咾晒拉日頭裡 _I-zaung seh-ts lau so la nyih-deu li_. Be careful the wind does not blow them away. 當心勿要撥風吹脫 _Taung-sing ’veh iau peh foong ths-theh_. Take this out and shake it [clean]. 担出去抖抖乾淨 _Tan tsheh-chi teu-teu koen-zing_. Open this bundle. 第个包要解開 _Di-kuh pau iau ka-khe_. Wrap it up. 要包起來 _Iau pau-chi-le_. Use a rope to tie this. 用繩梱起來 _Yoong zung khwung-chi-le_. Buy some strong rope. 要買牢个繩 _Iau ma lau-kuh zung_. Buy a basket (with string net on top). 賈一隻網籃 _Ma ih-tsak maung-lan_. Put all the food into this basket. 吃个物事全擺拉第隻籃裡 _Chuh-kuh meh-z zen pa-la di-tsak lan-li_. Buy me a foot-stove and some charcoal (balls). 買一隻脚爐咾幾个炭團 _Ma ih-tsak kyak-loo lau kyi-kuh than-doen_. Roll up my bedding. 舖蓋打起來 _Phoo-ke tang-chi-le_. Take this letter to........... 第封信送到........... _Di-foong sing soong tau........_. An answer is wanted. 要回信个 _Iau we-sing kuh_. Go to the Chinese Imperial Post Office. 到郵政局去 _Tau Yeu-tsung-jok chi_. Go to the Post Office for the mail. 到書信舘去担信來 _Tau su-sing-kwen chi tan sing le_. Take this parcel to the Post Office. 第个包送到書信舘去 _Di-kuh pau, soong tau su-sing-kwen chi_. Call a wheelbarrow and take these things to the steamer. 呌小車送第个物事到船上去 _Kyau siau-tsho soong di-kuh meh-z tau zen laung chi_. Put camphor with the clothes. 衣裳裡要放樟腦 _I-zaung-li iau faung tsaung-nau_. The answer says there are two books; why is there only one here? 回信話有兩本書, 現在只有一本, 啥緣故 _We-sing wo yeu liang-pung su; yien-dze tsuh-yeu ih-pung, sa yoen-koo?_ The chit book says there is an answer; where is it? 送信簿上寫明有回信, 拉那裡 _Soong-sing-boo laung sia-ming yeu we-sing, la ‘a-li?_ This letter is not mine; have you any other? 第封信勿是我个, 還有別个否 _Di-fong sing ’veh-z ngoo-kuh; wan yeu bih-kuh va?_ This is for the next house. 第个物事是隔壁人家个. _Di-kuh meh-z z kah-pih nyung-ka-kuh_. Call a man to put a new cover on this chair. 第隻椅子呌人來換新个裿布 _Di-tsak iui-ts, kyau nyung le wen sing-kuh iui poo_. Get a new glass for this broken window. 窗上个碎玻璃要配新个 _Tshaung-laung-kuh se poo-li iau phe sing-kuh_. Take this pass-book to the store and bring the things. 担第本簿子到店裏去, 拿物事來 _Tan di-pung boo-ts tau tien-li chi, nau meh-z le_. Go and buy some bread tickets. 去買饅頭票子來 _Chi ma men-deu phiau-ts le_. Take these tickets and exchange for bread. 担第个票子去換饅頭 _Tan di-kuh phiau-ts chi wen men-deu_. Go and buy biscuits. 去買點餅乾來 _Chi ma tien ping-koen le_. I want a ricksha to go to the French Concession. 要一部東洋車到法租界去 _Iau ih-boo toong-yang-tsho tau Fah-tsoo-ka chi_. I want a carriage for half a day. 我要一部馬車用半日 _Ngoo iau ih-boo mo-tsho yoong pen-nyih_. I want it again to-morrow. 明朝我再要 _Ming-tsau ngoo tse iau_. He asks too much money. 伊討个價錢忒大 _Yi thau-kuh ka-dien thuh doo_. Three Dollars are enough. 三塊洋錢彀者 _San-khwe yang-dien keu-tse_. This carriage is not good; get another. 第部馬車勿好, 要換好个 _Di-boo mo-tsho ’veh-hau; iau wen hau-kuh_. I am not very well to-day (_or_ am ill). 今朝我勿大爽快 (or 有毛病) _Kyung-tsau ngoo ’veh da saung-khwa_ (or _yeu mau-bing_). What is the matter? 啥个毛病 _Sa-kuh mau-bing?_ I don’t know what it is. 我勿曉得是啥毛病 _Ngoo ’veh hyau-tuh z sa mau-bing_. I’ve got fever and ague. 我有瘧子 (or 瘧疾) _Ngoo yeu ngauh-ts_ (or _nyak-dzih_). I’ve got fever. 我有寒熱 _Ngoo yeu ‘oen-nyih_. I’ll give you a dose of medicine. 我撥儂點藥 _Ngoo peh noong tien yak_. You had better see the doctor. 儂要請醫生生看 _Noong iau tshing i-sang khoen_. I must go to the hospital. 我要住拉醫院裡 _Ngoo iau dzu-la i-yoen-li_. I want to go home. 我要歸去 or 到屋裡去 _Ngoo iau kyui-chi_ (or _tau ok-li chi_). You can return home for a short time. 儂暫時可以歸去 _Noong dzan-z khau-i kyui-chi_. You are still not fit for work. 儂現在還勿能做生活 _Noong yien-dze wan ’veh nung tsoo sang-weh_. Come again when you are stronger. 儂好點咾再來 _Noong hau-tien lau tse le_. Cook is sick and can’t get up. 大司務拉生病, 勿能起來 _Da-s-voo la sang-bing, ’veh-nung chi-le_. Why do you work so very slowly? 儂做生活爲啥慢來死 _Noong tsoo sang-weh we-sa man-le-si?_ Because I am tired. 爲之我弛陀 _We-ts ngoo sa-doo_. Perhaps you go out too much at night. 恐怕儂夜頭出去忒多 _Khoong-pho noong ya-deu tsheh-chi thuh too_. I think you smoke opium (_or_ drink wine.) 我想儂吃雅片煙 (or 吃酒) _Ngoo siang noong chuh ia-phien-ien_ (or _chuh tsieu_). Your clothes and hat are untidy. 儂个衣帽勿整齊 _Noong-kuh i-mau ’veh tsung-zi_. Don’t have your shoes down at the heel. 儂勿要拖鞋皮 _Noong ’veh iau thoo ‘a-bi_. Have you not combed your hair to-day? 儂今朝勿曾梳頭否 _Noong kyung-tsau ’veh-zung s-deu va?_ This is not proper (respectful.) 第个是無規矩个 _Di-kuh z m kwe-kyui-kuh_. Call amah to come. 呌阿媽來 Kyau A-ma le. =_AMAH_ (阿媽).= ---------- Take baby out. 領小囝到外頭去 _Ling siau-noen tau nga-deu chi_. Go to the Gardens. 領小囝到花園裡去 _Ling siau-noen tau hwo-yoen-li chi_. If it is too cold, come home. 若是忒冷, 就轉來 _Zak-z thuh lang, zieu tsen-le_. Don’t sit in the wind. 勿要坐拉風裡 _’Veh iau zoo la foong-li_. Don’t get in the sun. 勿要到日頭裡去 _’Veh iau tau nyih-deu-li chi_. Baby’s clothes you can wash. 小囝个衣裳要儂淨 _Siau-noen-kuh i-zaung iau noong zing_. [You can] also iron them. 也要燙 _‘A iau thaung_. This you can give to the washerman. 第个可以撥汏衣裳个人淨 _Di-kuh khau-i peh da-i-zaung-kuh nyung zing_. Use hot water to wash flannel. 𠵽㘓絨用熱水淨 _Fah-lan-nyoong yoong nyih-s zing_. This water is too cold. 第个水忒冷 _Di-kuh s thuh lang_. Wring dry. 要絞來乾點 _Iau kau le koen tien_. Hang them up (as on a line to dry or air). 要晾起來 _Iau laung-chi-le_. Shake well and hang up in the sun. 要抖抖咾晒拉日頭裏 _Iau teu-teu lau so la nyih-deu-li_. [When] ironing clothes, do not have them too dry. 衣裳要燙, 勿要忒乾 _I-zaung iau thaung, ’veh iau thuh koen_. Mend this. 第个要補 _Di-kuh iau poo_. Mend these stockings. 第雙襪要補 _Di-saung mah iau poo_. [I] want you to knit stockings. 要儂結一雙襪 _Iau noong kyih ih-saung mah_. I want you to sew this. 我要儂做 (or 縫) 第个 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo_ (or _voong_) _di-kuh_. I cannot sew. 我縫勿來个 _Ngoo voong-’veh-le-kuh_. Then you must learn. 蓋末儂要學 _Keh-meh noong iau ‘auh_. My children are not very small; so, therefore, I want you to sew and knit and help me (_lit_., help in hand work). 我个小囝勿算頂小, 所以要儂相帮我做手裡生活 _Ngoo-kuh siau-noen ’veh soen ting siau, soo-i iau noong siang-paung ngoo tsoo seu-li sang-weh_. Put on (baby’s) outdoor clothes and take him out. 著之外罩衣裳咾領伊到外頭去 _Tsak-ts nga-tsau-i-zaung lau ling yi tau nga-deu chi_. Don’t buy anything and give her to eat. 勿要買啥物事撥伊吃 _’Veh iau ma sa meh-z peh yi chuh_. Don’t give him anything to eat unless I say so. 若是我勿告訴儂末, 儂勿要撥啥伊吃 _Zak-z ngoo ’veh kau-soo noong meh, noong ’veh iau peh sa yi chuh_. Because she is sick she cannot eat this. 爲之伊有毛病, 所以勿能吃第个 _We-ts yi yeu mau-bing, soo-i ’veh nung chuh di-kuh_. My wages are too small, please increase them. 我个工錢勿彀, 請儂加點 _Ngoo-kuh koong-dien ’veh keu, tshing noong ka-tien_. Just now I cannot increase; afterwards I will give you more. 現在我勿能加, 後首咾加儂 _Yien-dze ngoo ’veh nung ka, ‘eu-seu lau ka noong_. If you cannot give more now, I must leave you. 若是儂現在勿能加, 我只得停 (or 離開儂) _Zah-z noong yien-dze ’veh nung ka, ngoo tsuh-tuh ding_ (or _li-khe noong_). Beginning with next month I promise to increase one dollar; next year I will again raise you one dollar. 下个月起頭我應許加儂一塊, 到開年我再加儂一塊 _‘Au-kuh-nyoeh chi-deu ngoo iung-hyui ka noong ih-khwe, tau khe-nien ngoo tse ka noong ih-khwe_. =_THE GENTLEMEN’S TAILOR_ (栽縫).= ---------- Tailor 裁縫 _Ze-voong_. Jacket 馬褂 _Mo-kwo_. Vest 背心 _Pe-sing_. Overcoat 大衣 (or 外罩衣) _Doo-i_ (or _Nga tsau-i_.) Trousers 褲子 _Khoo-ts_. Tie 結子 _Kyih-ts_. Collar 領頭 _Ling-deu_. Stockings 襪 _Mah_. Singlet 襯衫 _Tshung-san_. [For morning coat, and such articles of apparel as are not used by the Chinese, there is no proper Chinese equivalent.] I want you to make a suit of clothes. 我要儂做一套衣裳 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-thau i-zaung_. Make me a pair of trousers. 做一條褲子 _Tsoo ih-diau khoo-ts_. Have you got your patterns with you? 儂有樣子否 _Noong yeu yang-ts va?_ Can you recommend this cloth? 儂想第个布好用否 _Noong siang di-kuh poo hau-yoong va?_ This colour is too dark; 第个顏色忒黑 _Di-kuh ngan-suh thuh huh_. I want a lighter cloth for summer wear. 我要薄點个布, 爲之夏天咾用 _Ngoo iau bok-tien kuh poo, we-ts ‘au-thien lau yoong_. What will the cost be? 啥價錢 _Sa ka-dien?_ I want a good fit. 我要儂做來配身 (or 合式个) _Ngoo iau noong tsoo-le phe-sung_ (or _’eh-suh kuh_.) The lining must be good. 夾裡要用好个料作 _Kah-li iau yoong hau-kuh liau-tsok_. How long will it take to finish? [How much labour is there?] 要幾化工夫 _Iau kyi-hau koong-foo?_ When will it be ready to try on? 幾時可以拿來試試看 (or 演演看) _Kyi-z khau-i nau-le s-s-khoen_ (or _ien-ien-khoen_). The sleeves are too long. 袖子忒長 _Zieu-ts thuh dzang_. The legs are too short. 褲脚忒短 _Khoo-kyak thuh toen_. This jacket does not fit. 第个馬褂勿配身 _Di-kuh mo-kwo ’veh phe-sung_. This overcoat is tight across the shoulders. 第件大衣个肩膀忒緊 _Di-jien doo-i kuh kyien-paung thuh kyung_. The vest is too loose across the chest. 背心个胸膛忒寬 _Pe-sing kuh hyoong-daung thuh-khwen_. The collar is too high. 領頭忒高 _Ling-deu thuh kau_. I want a pocket inside. 裡向也要有袋 _Li-hyang ’a iau yeu de_. The trousers must have side pockets. 褲子兩傍應該有袋 _Khoo-ts liang-baung iung-ke yeu de_. I want you to mend these trousers. 第條褲子要儂修 _Di diau khoo-ts iau noong sieu_. Put more buttons on. 鈕子要多點 _Nyeu-ts iau too-tien_. Put new cuffs on these shirts. 汗衫上要換新个袖頭 _‘Oen-san-laung iau wen sing-kuh zieu-deu_. [This] shirt front is frayed; I want a new one. 汗衫个前面壞者, 要換新个 _‘Oen-san kuh zien-mien wa-tse, iau wen sing-kuh_. The material is mine, how much for making only? 料作我自辦, 不過做工要幾錢 _Liau-tsauk ngoo z-ban, peh-koo tsoo-koong iau kyi-dien?_ =_THE LADIES’ TAILOR_.= ---------- Call a tailor. 呌一个裁縫來 _Kyau ih-kuh ze-voong le_. I want you to make a dress. 我要儂做一套衣裳* _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-thau i-zaung_.* *This is the same expression that is used for a suit of clothes. I want you to make a skirt. 我要儂做一條裙 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-diau juin_. I want you to make a bodice. 我要儂做一个肚兜 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-kuh doo-teu_. I want you to make a jacket. 我要儂做一件馬褂 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-jien mo-kwo_. I want you to make a cloak. 我要儂做一件外罩个袍褂 _Ngoo iau noong tsoo ih-jien nga-tsau-kuh bau-kwo_. This sleeve is too long; make it shorter. 第个袖子忒長; 要做來短點 _Di-kuh zieu-ts thuh dzang; iau tsoo-le toen-tien_. This garment is too tight; make it easier. 第件衣裳身胚忒緊,要做來寬點 _Di-jien i-zaung sung-phe thuh kyung; iau tsoo-le khwen tien_. This is too wide (or loose); make tighter. 第件衣裳身胚忒寬, 要做來緊點 _Di-jien i-zaung sung-phe thuh khwen; iau tsoo-le kyung tien_. Make like this pattern. 照第个樣式咾做 _Tsau di-kuh yang-suh lau tsoo_. Please bring me samples of native cloth (to let me see). 請儂擔點本地布个樣子撥我看看 _Tshing noong tan tien pung-di poo-kuh yang-ts, peh-ngoo khoen-khoen_. Please bring me samples of foreign cloth (to let me see). 請儂擔點外國布个樣子撥我看看 Tshing noong tan tien nga-kok poo-kuh yang-ts, peh ngoo khoen-khoen. Have you samples of grass cloth? 儂有夏布个樣子否 _Noong yeu ‘au-poo kuh yang-ts va?_ What you have of broad and narrow cloth, bring and let me see. 所有闊咾狹个布, 全擔來讓我看看 _Soo yeu khweh lau ‘ah kuh poo, zen tan-le nyang ngoo khoen-khoen_. When can you finish it? 幾時可以做好 (or 做得好) _Kyi-z khau-i tsoo-hau?_ (or _tsoo-tuh-hau_). I want you to do it quicker. 我要儂快點做 _Ngoo iau noong khwa-tien tsoo_. Can you finish it this week? 拉第个禮拜裏, 做得好否 _La di-kuh li-pa li, tsoo-tuh hau va?_ This week it is impossible to finish. 拉第个禮拜裏, 來勿及做好 _La di-kuh li-pa li, le-’veh-ji tsoo-hau_. Then next week certainly must finish. 蓋末下个禮拜, 一定要做好 _Keh-meh ‘au-kuh li-pa, ih-ding iau tsoo-hau_. How much will it cost to make these clothes? 第件衣裳做工啥價錢 _Di-jien i-zaung tsoo-koong sa ka-dien?_ You ask too big a price. 儂討个價錢忒貴. _Noong thau-kuh ka-dien thuh kyui_. Yes (_or_ all right), I can pay you this price. 好个, 我可以撥儂第个價錢 _Hau-kuh, ngoo khau-i peh noong di-kuh ka-dieh_. Why have you not done as I told you? 爲啥勿照我告訴儂个様子咾做 _We-sa ’veh tsau ngoo kau-soo noong-kuh yang-ts lau tsoo?_ You have done very well. When I have more work I shall want you to do it (_lit_., and another time I will want you to do work.) 儂做來蠻好, 下回我還要儂做 Noong tsoo-le ’man-hau; ‘au-we ngoo wan iau noong tsoo. =_THE WASHERMAN_ (淨衣裳个人).= ---------- Take these clothes and wash them. 第个衣裳擔去淨 (or 汏) _Di-kuh i-zaung tan-chi zing_ (or _da_). Be careful in washing this; and do not tear it. 要當心淨; 勿要淨破 _Iau taung-sing zing; ’veh iau zing-phoo_. This garment wants starch, but do not make it too stiff. 第件衣裳要用點䊢, 但是勿要忒硬 _Di-jien i-zaung iau yoong tien tsiang, dan-z ’veh iau thuh ngang_. Do not starch this garment. 第件衣裳勿要䊢 _Di-jien i-zaung, ’veh iau tsiang_. See, you have torn this garment. 諾, 看看, 第件衣裳撥儂弄壞者 _Nau! khoen-khoen! di-jien i-zaung peh noong loong-wa-tse_. See, this window curtain has been spoiled by you. 儂看, 第个窗帘撥儂弄壞者 _Noong khoen, di-kuh tshaung-lien peh noong loong-wa-tse_. It is dirty, wash again. 弄齷齪者, 要再淨 _Loong auh tshauh tse; iau tse zing_. One piece is still missing, why? 還缺少一件, 啥緣故 _Wan choeh-sau ih-jien; sa yoen-koo?_ It is lost; I will try to find it. 失脫者, 我再要尋尋看 _Seh-theh tse; ngoo tse iau zing-zing-khoen_. If you cannot find it, you must pay for it. 若是尋勿著, 要儂賠个 _Zah-z zing-’veh-dzak, iau noong be kuh_. What is the price for washing one piece? 淨一件啥價錢 _Zing ih-jien sa ka-dien?_ Three cents a piece. 三分洋錢一件 _San-fung yang-dien i-jien_. Bring these clothes back in two or three days. 第件衣裳兩三日就要擔來 _Di-jien i-zaung liang san nyih zieu iau tan-le_. I am going away (_or_ leaving Shanghai) presently. 我就要出門 (or 我就要離開上海) _Ngoo zieu iau tsheh-mung_ (or _ngoo zieu iau li-khe Zaung-he_). So you must bring back my clothes at once. 所以我个衣裳就擔來 _Soo-i ngoo-kuh i-zaung zieu tan-le_. These clothes are not ironed properly; iron them again. 第件衣裳燙來勿好, 要再燙 _Di-jien i-zaung thaung-le ’veh hau; iau tse thaung_. These clothes are not washed properly, wash them again. 第件衣裳淨來勿乾淨, 要再淨 _Di-jien i-zaung zing le ’veh koen-zing, iau tse zing_. Don’t put any soda in the water. 水裡勿要放鹻 _S-li ’veh iau faung kan_. As it easily takes out the colour. 爲之容易退顏色 _We-ts yoong-yi the ngan-suh_. How many pieces have you washed this month? 第个月裡淨之幾件衣裳 _Di-kuh nyoeh-li zing-ts kyi-jien i-zaung?_ =_THE MAFOO_ (馬夫).= ---------- =I. Riding.= Saddle the horse. 裝好馬 _Tsaung-hau mo_. The girths are too loose. 馬肚帶忒寬 _Mo-doo-ta thuh khwen_. Tighten up the girths. 馬肚帶要收緊 _Mo-doo-ta iau seu kyung_. Lengthen (or lower) the stirrup. 馬踏櫈要放下點 _Mo-dah-tung iau faung ’au-tien_. Those stirrup irons are not bright (or not clean). 馬踏櫈个鐵擦來勿亮 or 勿乾淨 _Mo-dah-tung-kuh thih tshah le ’veh liang_ (or _veh koen-zing_). Loosen the curb (chain.) 馬嚼鐵放寬點 _Mo-ziak-thih faung khwen tien_. Have you put on the saddle-cloth? 馬鞍子个布櫬拉末 _Mo-oen-ts-kuh-poo tshung la meh?_ Don’t take off the rug. 毯子勿要擔脫 _Than-ts veh iau tan-theh_. Take off the rug. 毯子要擔去 _Than-ts iau tan-chi_. When did you feed the pony? 儂幾時喂个馬料 _Noong kyi-z iui-kuh mo-liau?_ Give him a good feed. 要撥好个馬料伊吃 _Iau peh hau-kuh mo-liau yi chuh_. Has he had a drink? 有吃過水否 _Yeu chuh-koo s va?_ That saddle does not fit properly. 馬鞍子裝來勿好 (or 勿妥帖) _Mo-oen-ts tsaung le ’veh hau_ (or _veh thoo thih_). Walk him round a bit. 牽之讓伊走走 _Chien-ts nyang yi tseu-tseu_. Don’t feed him now. 現在勿要撥啥伊吃 _Yien-dze ’veh iau peh sa yi chuh_. He is very hot. 伊是頂熱 (or 伊是熱得極拉) _Yi z ting nyih_ (or _Yi z nyih tuh-juh la_). Don’t give him any water. 勿要撥水伊吃 _’Veh iau peh s yi chuh_. That pony is sick. 伊隻馬有病 _I-tsak mo yeu bing_. Go and get the veterinary surgeon. 去喊馬醫來 _Chi lian mo-i le_. Hold him until I get on. 儂牽牢拉讓我騎上去 _Noong chien-lau-la, nyang ngoo ji-zaung-chi_. Put more straw in his stall (or box.) 馬棚裏多放點稻柴 _Mo-bang-li too faung tien dau-za_. The pony is very dirty; give him a good rub-down. 馬齷齪來; 要刷乾淨 _Mo auh-thsauh le; iau seh koen-zing_. =II. Driving.= Get the carriage ready. 馬車裝起來 _Mo-tsho tsaung-chi-le_. Bring the carriage round. 馬車牽過來 _Mo-tsho chien-koo-le_. The carriage is not clean. 馬車勿乾淨 _Mo-tsho ’veh koen-zing_. The lamps are dirty. 燈是齷齪个 _Tung z auh-tshauh kuh_. Are there candles in the lamps? 燈裡有蠟燭否 _Tung-li yeu lah-tsok va?_ The collar doesn’t fit. 軛頭裝來勿伏帖 _Ah-deu tsaung le veh vok-thih_. It will hurt the horse’s shoulder. 要擦傷馬頸骨个 _Iau tshah-saung mo-kyung-kweh-kuh_. Keep the harness clean and in good order. 馬傢生要乾淨咾合式个 _Mo ka-sang iau koen-zing lau ’eh-suh kuh_. Don’t go (drive) too quickly. 勿要忒快 _’Veh iau thuh khwa_. (Drive) more quickly. 要快點 _Iau khwa-tien_. Stay here until I come back. 停拉此地等我轉來 _Ding la tsh-di, tung ngoo tsen-le_. At ten o’clock come back. 十點鐘再來 _Zeh tien-tsoong tse le_. I want the carriage at nine o’clock. 九點鐘我要馬車 _Kyeu tien-tsoong ngoo iau mo-tsho_. (Those) wheels are loose. 輪盤鬆者 _Lung-ben soong tse_. Put new washers on. 要換新个拈墊 _Iau wen sing-kuh nyien-dien_. I want a two-horse carriage. 我要雙馬車 _Ngoo iau saung mo-tsho_. Be careful with that horse. 當心伊隻馬 _Taung-sing i-tsak mo_. He may run away. 伊要逃走 or 跑開 _Yi iau dau-tseu_ (or _bau-khe_.) =_PURCHASING_.= ---------- I want to buy china. 我要買磁器 _Ngoo iau ma dz-chi_. Silk. 絲綢 _S-dzeu_. Embroidery. 顧繡 _Koo-sieu_. Furs. 皮貨 _Bi-hoo_. Old curios. 古董 _Koo-toong_. Cloisonné ware. 珐藍个物事 _Fah-lan kuh meh-z_. A blue bowl with cover. 淡描蓋碗 _Dan-miau ke-’wen_. An incense burner. 香爐 _Hyang-loo_. Knife cash. 刀錢 _Tau-dzien_. Ancient cash. 古錢 _Koo-dzien_. Wood Carvings. 木刻玩器 _Mok-khuh wan-chi_. Carvings. 刻作 _Khuh-tsauh_. Silver ware. 銀器 _Nyung-chi_. Boxes of puzzles. 七巧板 _Tshih-chau-pan_. Teapots. 茶壺 _Dzo-‘oo_. Please show me your wares. 儂个貨色請儂撥我看看 _Noong-kuh hoo-suh tshing noong peh ngoo khoen-khoen_. What is the price of this? 第个啥價錢 _Di-kuh sa ka-dien?_ This is too dear. 第个價錢忒貴 _Di-kuh ka-dien thuh kyui_. Can you make it cheaper? 可以[C1]點否 _Khau-i jang-tien va?_ This is imitation. 第个是翻做个 _Di-kuh z fan-tsoo-kuh_. This is not real. 第个勿是眞个 _Di-kuh ’veh-z tsung-kuh_. Can you use these dollars? 第个洋錢好用否 _Di-kuh yang-dien hau yoong va?_ What discount on Hongkong dollars? 每塊香港洋錢齾脫幾化 _’Me-khwe Hyang-kaung yang-dien ngah-theh kyi-hau?_ What is the value of Japanese yen? 每塊日本洋錢申幾化 _Me-khwe Zeh-pung yang-dien sung kyi-hau?_ How many Mexican dollars will an English sovereign bring? 每磅金洋値英洋幾化 _Me paung kyung-yang dzuk Iung-yang kyi-hau?_ What is the value of American dollars? 每塊花旗洋錢値幾化 _’Me khwe Hwo-ji yang-dien dzuh kyi-hau?_ =_THE CHINESE TEACHER_ (先生).= ---------- I want a (Chinese) teacher. 我要請一位先生 _Ngoo iau tshing ih-we sien-sang_. I want to learn Mandarin. 我要學官話 _Ngoo iau ’auh Kwen-wo_. I want to learn the Shanghai dialect. 我要學上海土白 _Ngoo iau ’auh Zaung-he thoo-bak_. Good morning, teacher. 先生早呀 _Sien-sang tsau ’a_. My Chinese words are few. 我个中國說話勿多 _Ngoo-kuh Tsoong-kok seh-wo ’veh-too_. I want to study in the morning. 我要拉早晨讀書 _Ngoo iau la tsau-zung dok-su_. What hour in the morning to begin? 早晨幾點鐘起頭 _Tsau-zung kyi tien-tsoong chi-deu?_ From seven to eight o’clock. 七點鐘到八點鐘 _Tshih tien-tsoong tau pah tien-tsoong_. Can you come earlier? 儂能彀早點來否 _Noong nung-keu tsau-tien le va?_ What hour is most convenient? 啥時候頂便當 _Sa z-’eu ting bien-taung_. How much a month do you wish? 每月儂要幾化薪水 _’Me nyoeh noong iau kyi-kau sing-soe?_ If each day [we] study one hour [I] want eight dollars. 若是每日讀一點鐘要八塊洋錢 _Zak-z ’me nyih dok ih tien-tsoong iau pah-khwe yang-dien_. What book do you think I should study? 儂想讀啥个書 _Noong siang dok sa-kuh su?_ To aspirate is important. 出風是要緊个 _Tsheh-foong z iau-kyung kuh_. Read it over again. 再讀一遍 _Tse dok ih-pien_. [To teacher] Should I learn to write the characters? 儂想我要學寫中國字否 _Noong siang ngoo iau ’auh sia Tsoong-kok z va?_ [To teacher] Do I speak correctly? 我話來對否 _Ngoo wo le te va?_ [To student] You do not speak distinctly. 儂話來勿淸爽 _Noong wo le ’veh tshing-saung_. Speak more quickly. 話來快點 _Wo-le khwa-tien_. Speak more slowly. 話來慢點 _Wo-le man-tien_. You speak too quick. 儂話來忒决 _Noong wo le thuh-khwa_. To listen to other people’s idiom is important. 聼別人个話法是要緊个 _Thing bih-nyung-kuh wo-fah z iau-kyung-kuh_. [We have] finished the study of this book; may [we] study Yates’ Lessons?* 第本書讀完之,可以讀中國譯語妙法否 Di pung su dok-wen-ts, khau-i dok Tsoong-kok Yuk Nyui Miau Fah va? * Since writing these Sentences new Lessons on the Shanghai Dialect have been prepared by Rev. L. Hawks Pott, D.D.(卜先生) Sir, please write a letter for me. 先生請儂替我寫一封信 _Sien-sang, tshing noong thi ngoo sia ih foong sing_. [To teacher] To-morrow I have matters [to attend to] and will not be able to study. 明朝我有事體, 勿能讀書 _Ming-tsau ngoo yeu z-thi, ’veh nung dok-su_. [To student] The day after to-morrow I go from home and cannot come to teach. 後日我要出門, 勿能來敎書 _‘Eu-nyih ngoo iau tsheh-mung, ’veh nung le kau su_. At the beginning, of next week I want to go to the hills for a summer holiday, so in the meantime we will stop for a week. 下禮拜起, 我要上山歇夏, 所以暫時停一个月 _‘Au li-pa chi, ngoo iau zaung san hyih ‘au, soo-i dzan z ding ih-kuh nyoeh_. =_NUMERALS_ (藪目).= ---------- 1 一 _ih_ 2 二 _nyi_ 3 三 _san_ 4 四 _s_ 5 五 _ng_ 6 六 _lok_ 7 七 _tshih_ 8 八 _pah_ 9 九 _kyeu_ 10 十 _zeh_ 11 十一 _zeh-ih_ 12 十二 _zeh-nyi_ 13 十三 _zeh-san_ 14 十四 _zeh-s_ 15 十五 _so-ng_ 16 十六 _zeh-lok_ 17 十七 _zeh-tshih_ 18 十八 _zeh-pah_ 19 十九 _zeh-kyeu_ 20 念 or 二十 _nyan_ or _nyi-seh_ 21 念一 _nyan-ih_ 22 念二 _nyan-nyi_ 23 念三 _nyan-san_ 24 念四 _nyan-s_ 25 念五 _nyan-ng_ 26 念六 _nyan-lok_ 27 念七 _nyan-tshih_ 28 念八 _nyan-pah_ 29 念九 _nyan-kyeu_ 30 三十 _san-seh_ 31 卅一 _san-zeh-ih_ 40 四十 _s-seh_ 50 五十 _ng-seh_ 60 六十 _lok-seh_ 70 七十 _tshih-seh_ 80 八十 _pah-seh_ 90 九十 _kyeu-seh_ 100 一百 _ih-pak_ 101 一百零一 _ih-pak ling ih_ 102 一百零二 _ih-pak ling nyi_ 103 一百零三 _ih-pak ling san_ 104 一百零四 _ih-pak ling s_ 105 一百零五 _ih-pak ling ng_ 106 一百零六 _ih-pak ling lok_ 107 一百零七 _ih-pak ling tshih_ 108 一百零八 _ih-pak ling pah_ 109 一百零九 _ih-pak ling kyeu_ 110 一百十 _ih-pak zeh_ 111 一百十一 _ih-pak zeh-ih_ 200 二百 _nyi-pak_ 300 三百 _san-pak_ 400 四百 _s-pak_ 500 五百 _ng-pak_ 600 六百 _lok-pak_ 700 七百 _tshih-pak_ 800 八百 _pah-pak_ 900 九百 _kyeu-pak_ 1,000 一千 _ih-tshien_ 1,001 一千零零一 _ih-tshien ling ling ih_ 2,000 二千 _nyi-tshien_ 5,000 五千 _ng-tshien_ 10,000 一萬 _ih-man_ (or _ih van_) 20,000 二萬 _nyi-man_ 50,000 五萬 _ng-man_ 100,000 十萬 _zeh-man_ 500,000 五十萬 _ng-zeh man_ 900,000 九十萬 _kyeu-seh man_ 1,000,000 一百萬 _ih-pak man_ =_CLASSIFIERS_.= ---------- In this and the following sections a number of useful words are grouped according to grammatical or topical divisions. A study of the words, called classifiers, which come between “a” or “an” (or rather its equivalent, the numeral 一 _ih_) and the word itself, will make our communications to the Chinese correct and more lucid. First Classifier, 个 (_kuh_). ------------------------------------------------- A man. 一个人 _Ih-kuh nyung_. A woman. 一个女人 _Ih-kuh nyui-nyung_. A son. 一个兒子 _Ih-kuh nyi-ts_. A daughter. 一个囡 _Ih-kuh noen_. A friend. 一个朋友 _Ih-kuh bang-yeu_. A native. 一个本地人 _Ih-kuh pung-di-nyung_. A servant. 一个用人 _Ih-kuh yoong-nyung_. A bottle. 一个玻璃瓶 _Ih-kuh poo-li-bing_. An egg. 一个蛋 _Ih-kuh-dan_. A scholar. 一个學生子 _Ih-kuh ‘auh-sang-ts_. A farmer. 一个種田入 _Ih-kuh tsoong-dien-nyung_. A carpenter. 一个木匠 _Ih-kuh mok-ziang_. A mason. 一个泥水匠 _Ih-kuh nyi-s-ziang_. Second Classifier, 隻 (_tsak_). ------------------------------------------------- A dog. 一隻狗 _Ih-tsak keu_. A cat. 一隻猫 _Ih-tsak mau_. A fowl. 一隻雞 _Ih-tsak kyi_. A bird. 一隻窵 _Ih-tsak tiau_. A table. 一隻檯子 _Ih-tsak de-ts_. A trunk. 一隻箱子 _Ih-tsak siang-ts_. A bed. 一隻床 _Ih-tsak zaung_. A plate. 一隻盆子 _Ih-tsak bung-ts_. A saucer. 一隻茶杯 _Ih-tsak dzo-pe_. A cup. 一隻杯子 _Ih-tsak pe-ts_. A stove. 一隻火爐 _Ih-tsak hoo-loo_. A watch. 一隻表 _Ih-tsak piau_. Third Classifier, 把 (_po_). ------------------------------------------------- A chair. 一把椅子 _Ih-po iui-ts_. A hammer. 一把榔頭 _Ih-po laung-deu_. A fan. 一把扇子 _Ih-po sen-ts_. An umbrella. 一把傘 _Ih-po san_. Fourth Classifier, 條 (_diau_). ------------------------------------------------- A stream. 一條河 _Ih-diau ‘oo_. A bridge. 一條橋 _Ih-diau jau_. A road. 一條路 _Ih-diau loo_. A rope. 一條繩 _Ih-diau zung_. A snake. 一條蛇 _Ih-diau zo_. A bar of iron. 一條鐵條 _Ih-diau thih-diau_. Fifth Classifier, 根 (_kung_). ------------------------------------------------- A stick of timber. 一根木頭 _Ih-kung mok-deu_. A bamboo. 一根竹頭 _Ih-kung tsok-deu_. A thread. 一根線 _Ih-kung sien_. A rope. 一根繩 _Ih-kung zung_. Sixth Classifier, 本 (_pung_). ------------------------------------------------- A book. 一本書 _Ih-pung su_. Seventh Classifier, 部 (_boo_). ------------------------------------------------- A work of one or more volumes. 一部書 _Ih-boo su_. A carriage. 一部馬車 _Ih-boo mo-tsho_. A ricksha. 一部東洋車 _Ih-boo toong-yang-tsho_. A wheelbarrow. 一部小車 _Ih-boo siau-tsho_. Eighth Classifier, 座 (_zoo_). ------------------------------------------------- A mountain. 一座山 _Ih-dzoo san_. A city. 一座城 _Ih-dzoo dzung_. A house. 一座房子 _Ih-dzoo vaung-ts_. A pagoda. 一座塔 _Ih-dzoo thah_. Ninth Classifier, 疋 (_phih_). ------------------------------------------------- A piece of cloth. 一疋布 _Ih-phih poo_. Tenth Classifier, 匹 (_phih_). ------------------------------------------------- A horse. 一匹馬 _Ih-phih mo_. A mule. 一匹騾子 _Ih-phih loo-ts_. Eleventh Classifier, 塊 (_khwe_). ------------------------------------------------- A piece of wood. 一塊木頭 _Ih-khwe mok-deu_. A slice of meat. 一塊肉 _Ih-khwe nyok_. A piece of land. 一塊地皮 _Ih-khwe di-bi_. A pane of glass. 一塊玻璃 _Ih-khwe poo-li_. A dollar. 一塊洋錢 _Ih-khwe yang-dien_. A brick. 一塊碌磚 _Ih-khwe lok-tsen_. Twelfth Classifier, 幅 (_fok_). ------------------------------------------------- A painting or engraving. 一幅晝圖 _Ih-fok wo-doo_. A chart or map. 一幅地圖 _Ih-fok di-doo_. Thirteenth Classifier, 扇 (_sen_). ------------------------------------------------- A door. 一扇門 _Ih-sen mung_. A screen. 一扇屛風 _Ih-sen bing-foong_. Fourteenth Classifier, 乘 (_dzung_). ------------------------------------------------- A flight of stairs or a ladder. 一乘扶梯 _Ih-dzung voo-thi_. A step of a door. 一乘踏步 _Ih-dzung dah-boo_. Fifteenth Classifier, 頂 (_ting_). ------------------------------------------------- A sedan chair. 一頂轎子 _Ih-ting jau-ts_. A hat. 一頂帽子 _Ih-ting mau-ts_. Sixteenth Classifier, 位 (_we_). ------------------------------------------------- A visitor, a customer. 一位客人 _Ih-we khak-nyung_. A teacher. 一位先生 _Ih-we sien-sang_. Seventeenth Classifier, 張 (_tsang_). ------------------------------------------------- A sheet of paper. 一張紙 _Ih-tsang ts_. A newspaper. 一張新聞紙 _Ih-tsang sing-vung-ts_. Eighteenth Classifier, 爿 (_ban_). ------------------------------------------------- A foreign firm. 一爿洋行 _Ih-ban yang-‘aung_. A shop. 一爿店 _Ih-ban tien_. Nineteenth Classifier, 副 (_foo_). ------------------------------------------------- A set of buttons. 一副鈕子 _Ih-foo nyeu-ts_. A pair of scrolls. 一副對聯 _Ih-foo te-lien_. Twentieth Classifier, 雙 (_saung_). ------------------------------------------------- A pair of shoes. 一雙鞋子 _Ih-saung ‘a-ts_. A pair of gloves. 一雙手套 _Ih-saung seu-thau_. Twenty-first Classifier, 尊 (_tsung_). ------------------------------------------------- An idol. 一尊菩薩 _Ih tsung boo sah_. Twenty-second Classifier, 包 (_pau_). ------------------------------------------------- A parcel. 一包 _Ih-pau_. A bundle of clothing. 一包衣裳 _Ih-pau i-zaung_. A bale of cotton. 一包棉花 _Ih-pau mien-hwo_. A bale of silk. 一包絲 _Ih-pau s_. Twenty-third Classifier, 棵 (_khoo_). ------------------------------------------------- A tree. 一棵樹 _Ih khoo zu_. A flowering plant. 一棵花 _Ih khoo hwo_. Twenty-fourth Classifier, 面 (_mien_). ------------------------------------------------- A mirror. 一面鏡子 _Ih-mien kyung-ts_. A flag. 一面旗 _Ih-mien ji_ Twenty-fifth Classifier, 堆 (_te_). ------------------------------------------------- A pile of fuel. 一堆柴 _Ih te za_. A pile of coal. 一堆煤 _Ih te me_. A pile of stones. 一堆石頭 _Ih te zak-deu_. A pile of goods. 一堆貨色 _Ih te hoo-suh_. Twenty-sixth Classifier, 綑 (_khwung_). ------------------------------------------------- A bundle of rice straw. 一綑稻柴 _Ih khwung dau-za_. A bundle of wood. 一綑柴 _Ih khwung za_. Twenty-seventh Classifier, 管 (_kwen_). ------------------------------------------------- A pen. 一管筆 _Ih kwen pih_. A foot rule. 一管尺 _Ih kwen tshak_. Twenty-eighth Classifier, 對 (te). ------------------------------------------------- A pair of fowls. 一對雞 _Ih te kyi_. A husband and wife. 一對夫妻 _Ih te foo-tshi_. Twenty-ninth Classifier, 口 (_kheu_). ------------------------------------------------- A book-case. 一口書廚 _Ih kheu su-dzu_. A well. 一口井 _Ih kheu-tsing_. Thirtieth Classifier, 桶 (_doong_). ------------------------------------------------- A barrel of flour. 一桶干麺 _Ih doong koen-mien_. A bucket of water. 一桶水 _Ih doong-s_. Thirty-first Classifier, 瓶 (_bing_) ------------------------------------------------- A bottle (bottleful). 一瓶 _Ih bing_. A bottle of medicine. 一瓶藥 _Ih bing yak_. Thirty-second Classifier, 箱 (_siang_). ------------------------------------------------- A box of tea. 一箱茶葉 _Ih siang dzo-yih_. A box of materials. 一箱貨色 _Ih siang hoo-suh_. Thirty-third Classifier, 封 (_foong_). ------------------------------------------------- A letter. 一封信 _Ih foong sing_. Thirty-fourth Classifier, 帮 (_paung_). ------------------------------------------------- The literary class. 讀書帮 _Dok-su paung_. The mercantile class. 生意帮 _Sang-i paung_. The Canton guild. 廣東帮 _Kwaung-toong paung_. The Ningpo guild. 甯波帮 _Nyung-poo paung_ or _Nyung pok paung_. Thirty-fifth Classifier, 回 (_we_). ------------------------------------------------- One time. 一回 _Ih we_. Thirty-sixth Classifier, 票 (_phiau_). ------------------------------------------------- A job of work. 一票生活 _Ih phiau sang-weh_. A business transaction. 一票生意 _Ih phiau sang-i_. Thirty-seventh Classifier, 樁 (_tsaung_). ------------------------------------------------- An affair. 一樁事體 _Ih tsaung z-thi_. Thirty-eighth Classifier, 層 (_dzung_). ------------------------------------------------- A three-storied house. 三層樓 _San-dzung leu_. A seven-storied pagoda. 七層塔 _Tshih-dzung thak_. Thirty-ninth Classifier, 藏 (_dzaung_). ------------------------------------------------- A pile of books. 一藏書 _Ih-dzaung su_. A pile of plates. 一藏盆子 _Ih-dzaung bung-ts_. Fortieth Classifier, 股 (_koo_). ------------------------------------------------- One share. 一股 _Ih koo_. A business of three partners. 三股分頭 _San koo vung-deu_. Forty-first Classifier, 間 (_kan_). ------------------------------------------------- One room. 一間 _Ih kan_. A bed-room. 房間, 房頭 _Vaung-kan, vaung-deu_. An office. 寫字間 _Sia-z-kan_. Shroff’s room. 帳房間 _Tsang-vaung-kan_. Forty-second Classifier, 件 (_jien_). ------------------------------------------------- A garment. 一件衣裳 _Ih jien i-zaung_. An affair. 一件實體 _Ih jien z-thi_. Forty-third Classifier, 捸 (_da_). ------------------------------------------------- A row of houses. 一捸房子 _Ih da vaung-ts_. A row of trees. 一埭樹 _Ih da zu_. _PRONOUNS_. ---------- Personal Pronouns. I. 我 _Ngoo_. You. 儂 _Noong_. He. 伊 _Yi_. We. 伲 _Nyi_. You. 㑚 _Na_. They. 伊拉 _Yi-la_. Interrogative Pronouns. Who? What? 啥 _Sa?_ Which. 那裡 _‘a-li_. Demonstrative Pronouns. This, these. 第个 _Di-kuh_. That, those. 伊个 _I-kuh_. Indefinite Pronouns. All. 攏總 _Loong-tsoong_. Many. 多化 _Too-hau_. Few. 少 _Sau_. Each. 每 _’Me_. Whichever. 隨便 _Dzoe-bien_. Other. 別个 _Bih-kuh_. =_Examples of Adjectives_.= Good. 好 _Hau_. Better. 奸點 _Hau-tien_. Best. 頂好 _Ting-hau_. Bad. 勿好 _’Veh-hau_ (or 恘 _Cheu_.) Cold. 冷 _Lang_. Hot. 熱 _Nyih_. Black. 黑 _Huh_. White. 白 _Bak_. Red. 紅 _‘Oong_. Green. 綠 _Lok_. Blue. 藍 _Lan_. Yellow. 黃 _Waung_. Long. 長 _Dzang_. Short. 短 _Toen_. High. 高 _Kau_. Low. 低 _Ti_. Broad. 闊 _Khweh_. Narrow. 狹 _‘Ah_. _Adverbs_. How. 那能 _Na-nung_. Why? 爲啥 _We-sa?_ When? 幾時 _Kyi-z?_ Now. 現在 _Yien-dze_. Thus. 實藎 _Zeh-ke_. But. 但是 _Dan-z_. Only. 不過 _Peh-koo_. Very. 蠻 _Man_. _Conjunctions_. And. 咾 _Lau_. Therefore. 所以 _Soo-i_. Because. 因爲 _Iung-we_. If. 若是 _Zak-z_. Then. 難末 _Nan-meh_ Either. 或是 _‘Ok-z_. =_DIRECTIONS (方向)_.= ---------- East. 東 _Toong_. South. 南 _Nen_. West. 西 _Si_. North. 北 _Pok_. South-east. 東南 _Toong-nen_. North-west. 西北 _Si-pok_. South-west. 西南 _Si-nen_. North-east. 東北 _Toong-pok_. Here. 第頭 or 此地 _Di-deu_ or _Ths-di._ There. 伊頭 _I-deu_. Where. 那裡 _‘A-li_ Above. 上頭 _Zaung-deu_. Below. 下頭 _‘Au-deu_. Upstairs. 樓上 _Leu-laung_. Downstairs. 樓下 _Leu-‘au_. Inside. 裡向 _Li-hyang_. Outside. 外頭 _Nga-deu_ In front. 前頭 or 前面 _Zien-deu_ or _Zien-mien_. At the back. 後頭 or 背後 _‘Eu-deu_ or _Pe-‘eu_. Beside. 傍邊 _Baung-pien_. Left. 左邊 _Tsi-pien_. Right. 右邊 _Yeu-pien_. In addition to the directions given in the sections, “On the Street”; “The Merchant”; “House Boy and Coolie,” etc., the following may prove useful:— International Banking Corporation. 花旗銀行 _Hwo-ji nyung-‘aung_. Imperial Bank of China. 中國通商銀行 _Tsoong-kok thoong saung nyung-‘aung_. Yokohama Specie Bank. 正金銀行 _Tsung-kyung nyung-‘aung_. Russo-Chinese Bank. 華俄道勝銀行 _Wo ngoo dau sung nyung-‘aung_. Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China. 麥加利銀行 _Mah-ka-li nyung-‘aung_. The Missionary Home, 敎士公所 _Kyau-z koong-soo_. The Palace Hotel. 滙中 _We-tsoong_. The Hotel Des Colonies. 蜜采里 _Mih-tshe-li_. The Great Northern Telegraph Company. 大北電報公司 _Da-pok dien-pau koong-s_. The Imperial Chinese Telegraph Administration. 中國電報總局 _Tsoong-koh dien-pau tsoong-jok_. Eastern Extension Australasia and China Telegraph Co., Ltd. 大東電報公司 _Da-toong dien-pau koong-s_. Commercial Pacific Cable Company. 太平洋商務電報公司 _Tha-bing-yang saung-woo dien-pau koong-s_. =_TITLES OR DESIGNATIONS_ (稱呼).= ---------- Parents. 爺娘 _Ya-nyang_. Father. 爺 _Ya_. Mother. 娘 _Nyang_. Husband. 丈夫 _Dzang-foo_. Wife. 娘子 _Nyang-ts_. Brother. 弟兄 _Di-hyoong_. Elder brother. 阿哥 _Ak-koo_. Younger brother. 兄弟 _Hyoong-di_. Sister. 姊妹 _Tsi-me_. Elder sister. 阿姊 _Ah-tsi_. Younger sister. 妹妹 _Me-me_. Children. 小囝 _Siau-noen_. Son. 兒子 _Nyi-ts_. Daughter. 囡 _Noen_. Teacher. 先生 _Sien-sang_. Master. 東家 _Toong-ka_. Mistress. 東家娘娘 _Toong-ka-nyang-nyang_. Employé. 夥計 _Hoo-kyi_. Servant. 用人 _Yoong-nyung_. Scholar. 學生子 _‘Auh-sang-ts_. Friend. 朋友 _Bang-yeu_. Relative. 親眷 _Tshing-kyoen_. Neighbor. 鄰舍 _Ling-so_. Mate or companion. 同事 or 同伴 _Doong-z_, or _Doong-be_. Cook. 大司務 _Da-s-voo_. Boy. 細崽 _Si-tse_ Coolie. 苦力 or 出店 _Khoo-lih_ or _Tsheh-tien_. Amah. 阿媽 _Ak-ma_. Mafoo. 馬夫 _Mo-foo_. Rickshaman. 車夫 _Tsho-foo_. Gardener. 種花園个 _Tsoong-hwo-yoen-kuh_. Washerman. 淨衣裳个 _Zing-i-zaung-kuh_. Tailor. 裁縫 _Ze-voong_. Carpenter. 木匠 _Mok-ziang_. Mason. 坭水匠 _Nyi-s-ziang_ Blacksmith. 鐵匠 _Thih-ziang_. Coppersmith. 銅匠 _Doong-ziang_. Silversmith. 銀匠 _Nyung-ziang_. Shoemaker. 鞋匠 or 做鞋子个 _‘A-ziang_ or _Tsoo ‘a-ts kuh_. Baker. 做饅頭个 _Tsoo-men-deu-kuh_. =_WEATHER_ (天氣)= ---------- To-day the weather is fine. 今朝天氣蠻好 _Kyung-tsau thien-chi ’man-hau_. To-day is dark. 今朝天色陰暗 _Kyung-tsau thien-suh iung-en_. Perhaps it will rain. 恐怕要落雨 _Khoong-pho iau lauh-yui_. The wind is high. 有大風 _Yeu doo foong_. To-day is very warm. 今朝蠻熱 Kyung-tsau ’man nyih. Yesterday was very cold. 昨日籩冷 _Zauh-nyih ’man lang. Perhaps to-morrow will be fine. 明朝或者會天好 [or 天晴] _Ming-tsau ‘ok-tse we thien-hau_ [or _thien-dzing_.] There has been too much rain. 雨水忒多 _Yui-s thuh-too_. It looks like snow. 要落雪 _Iau lauh sih_. To-day there is frost. 今朝有霜 _Kyung-tsau yeu saung_. To-day there is ice. 今朝有冰 _Kyung-tsau yeu ping_. It is foggy outside. 外頭有霧露 _Nga-deu yeu ‘oo-loo_. It is stormy. 有大風雨 _Yeu doo foong-yui_. =_HOUSE VOCABULARY_.= ---------- Basin. 面盆 _Mien-bung_. Bath room. 淨浴間 _Zing-yok kan_. Bath tub. 浴缸 or 浴盆 _Yok-kaung_, or _yok-bung_. Bath tray. 浴缸座盤 _Yok-kaung dzoo-ben_. Bamboo screen. 竹簾 _Tsok-lien_. Bed-room. 房間 _Vaung-kan_. Bell. 鈴 _Ling_. Bed. 床 _Zaung_. Book-case. 書厨 _Su-dzu_. Boiler (for water). 水鍋 _S-koo_. Broom. 掃箒 _Sau-tseu_. Carpet. 地毯 _Di-than_. Chair. 椅子 _Iui-ts_. Clock. 鐘 _Tsoong_. Clothes horse. 衣架 _I ka_. Coal-house. 煤間 _Me kan_. Coal scuttle. 煤桶 _Me-doong_. Coal shovel. 煤抄 _Me-tshau_. Commode. 馬桶 _Mo-doong_. Dog kennel. 狗棚 _Keu bang_. Dining-room. 吃飯間 _Chuh-van-kan_. Draught screen. 屏風 _Bing-foong_. Dressing room. 著衣間 _Tsak-i kan_. Filter. 沙漏氷缸 _So-loo-s kaung_. Flower glass. 花瓶 _Hwo-bing_. Flower pot. 花盆 _Hwo-bung_. Frying pan. 熬盆 _Ngau bung_. Garden. 花園 _Hwo-yoen_. Hall or lobby. 過路間 _Koo-loo-kan_. Key. 鑰匙 _Yak-dz_. Kitchen. 燒飯間 _Sau-van-kan_. Lock. 鎖 _Soo_. Looking glass. 鏡子 _Kyung-ts_. Native delf basins. 罐頭 _Kwen-deu_. Nursery. 小囝房間 _Siau-noen vaung-kan_. Organ. 風琴 _Foong-jung_. Ornaments. 裝飾个物事 _Tsaung-seh kuh meh-z_. Parlour or Drawing room. 客堂間 _Khah-daung-kan_. Piano. 洋琴 _Yang-jung_. Pictures. 畫圖 _Wo-doo_. Rolling pin or roller. 麵杖 or 桿筒 _Mien-dzang_, or _koen-doong_. Saucepan. 鑊子 or 鐵鍋 _‘Auh-ts_, or _thih-koo_. Scales (foreign). 磅秤 _Paung-tshung_. Scales, Chinese wooden steelyards. 天平 _Thien-bing_. Scrubbing brush. 刷箒 or 筅箒 _Suh-tseu_, or _sien-tseu_. Sideboard. 落莱檯 _Lok-tshe-de_. Sieve. 綳篩 _Pang-s_. Soap dish. 肥皂缸 _Bi-zau-kaung_. Stable. 馬棚間 _Mo-bang-kan_. Stairway. 扶梯間 _Voo-thi-kan_. Store room. 伙食間 _Hoo-zuh-kan_. Study. 讀書間 _Dok-su-kan_. Table. 檯子 _De-ts_. Table cover. 檯布 _De-poo_. Tub or foot bath. 脚桶 _Kyak-doong_. Verandah. 洋檯 or 走廊 _Yang-de_, or _tseu-laung_. Wardrobe. 衣厨 _I-dzu_. Washstand. 揩面檯 _Kha-mien-de_. Water jug. 水瓶 or 水壺 _S-bing_, or _s-‘oo_. Water-closet. 坑棚間 _Khang-bang-kan_. Watering can or pot. 噴桶 _Phung-doong_. Writing desk. 寫字檯 _Sia-z-de_. =_TIME_ (時候).= ---------- This year. 今年 _Kyung-nyien_. Last year. 舊年 _Jeu-nyien_. Next year. 開年 or 明年 _Khe-nyien_, or _ming-nyien_. New year. 新年 _Sing-nyien_. This month. 第个月 _Di-kuh nyoeh_. Last month. 上个月 or 前月 _Zaung-kuh nyoeh_, or _Zien-nyoeh_. Next month. 下个月 or 下月 _‘Au-kuh nyoeh_, or _‘Au nyoeh_. To-day. 今朝 _Kyung-tsau_. To-morrow. 明朝 _Ming-tsau_. Yesterday. 昨日 _Zauh-nyih_. Day before yesterday. 前日 _Zien-nyih_. Day after to-morrow. 後日 _‘Eu-nyih_. A few days. 勿多幾日 _’Veh-too kyi nyih_. A week. 一禮拜 _Ih li-pa_. Sunday. 禮拜日 _Li-pa-nyih_. Monday. 禮拜一 _Li-pa-ih_. Tuesday. 禮拜二 _Li-pa-nyi_. Wednesday. 禮拜三 _Li-pa-san_. Thursday. 禮拜四 _Li-pa-s_. Friday. 禮拜五 _Li-pa-ng_. Saturday. 禮拜六 _Li-pa-lok_. One hour. 一點鐘 _Ih tien-tsoong_. Half hour. 半點鐘 _Pen tien-tsoong_. Quarter hour. 一刻 _Ih khuh_. A minute. 一分 _Ih fung_. A second. 一秒 _Ih miau_. A quarter past 2 o’clock. 兩點一刻 _Liang tien ih khuh_. Half-past 3 o’clock. 三點半 _San tien pen_. A quarter to 4 o’clock. 四黠缺一刻 or 三點三刻 _S tien choeh ih khuh_, or _San tien san khuh_. Five minutes past four o’clock. 四點過五分 _S tien koo ng fung_. Ten minutes to 5 o’clock. 五點缺十分 _Ng tien choeh zeh fung_. Morning. 早晨 _Tsau-zung_. Forenoon. 上半日 _Zaung-pen-nyih_. Afternoon. 下半日 _‘Au-pen-nyih_. Mid-day. 日中 _Nyih-tsoong_. Evening. 夜快 _Ya-khwa_. Night. 夜頭 or 夜裡 _Ya-deu_, or _Ya-li_. Now. 現在 _Yien-dze_. Afterward. 後首 _‘Eu-seu_. One time. 一回 _Ih-we_. Two times, twice. 兩回 _Liang-we_. =_INDEX AND VOCABULARY_.= ---------- =A= Page. Above Zaung-deu 92 According Tsau 10 Account Tsang 35 Accounts Soen-tsang 34 Affair Z-thi 88 Afternoon ‘Au-pen-nyih 21,102 Afterwards ‘Eu-seu 52 Again Tse 3,4,45 „ ‘eu-seu 21 Age Kwe-kang 2 „ Soe [soo] 2,7 Ague ngauh-ts 46 All Loong-tsoong 90 Already I-kyung 10,35 Am Z 5 Amah A-ma 48,49 American ’Me-kok nyung 5 „ Bank Hwo-ji nyung-‘aung 93 Among them Ne-tsoong 15 And Lau 91 Another Bik-kuh 31 „ time ‘au-we 60 Answer We-sing 43,44 Apples Bing-koo 28,29 Application Tan 15 Apricots Ang-ts 28,29 Arrange Yui-be 23 Arrived Tau 16,25 Ask Tshing 34 „ Thau 45 Aspirate Tsheh-foong 74 Astor House Li-dzo 9 At La 16,17 At once Zieu 15,41 =B= Baby Siau-noen 49 Back (go) We-tseu 8 Bad ’Veh hau 3,91 Bake Hoong 27 Bamboo Tsok-deu 81 Bank Nyung-‘aung 8,10 Basin Mien-bung 98 Basket Lan 42 Bath tub Yok-kaung 98 Beans Deu 28,29 „ (string) Tau-deu 28,29 Beautiful Hau khoen ... „ Man hau 2 Because We-ts 47 „ Iung-we 91 Bed Zaung 80,98 Bed-room Vaung-kan 89,98 Bedding Phoo-ke 25,43 Beef Nyeu-nyok 28,29 Beginning Chi-deu 52,73 Bell Ling 98 Below ‘Au-deu 92 Beside Baung pien 92 Better Hau-tien 20,91 Biboes Bih-bo 28,29 Bird Tiau 80 Biscuits Thah-ping 28,29 „ Ping-koen 45 Black Huh 31,91 Blacksmith Thih-ziang 96 Blow Ths 42 Blue Lan 91 Boat Zen 22 Boil Zah 27 „ Tung 27 Boiling water Khe-s 27,33 Book Su 10,39 Book-case Su-dzu 86,98 Bottle Bing 79 Boy Si-tse 37,40 Box Siang-ts 39 Bread Men-deu 28,29 Brick Lok-tsen 82 Bridge Jau 81 Bright Liang 64 Bring Nau-le 24 „ Tan-le 38,63 British Da-Iung 11 Broad Khweh 58,91 Broil Hyuin 27 Broken Wa-theh 32 „ Se 44 Broom Sau-tseu 98 Brother Di-hyoong 95 Brush Seh-tseu 31 „ (to) Seh 37,41 Bundle Pau 42 Business Sang-i 3,19 „ Z-thi 12 Busy Maung 21 But Dan-z 91 Butter Na-yeu 28,29 Button Nyeu-ts 56,84 Buy, bought Ma 10,12,28 =C= Cabbage Kyoen-sing-tse 28,29 Calf Siau-nyeu 28 Call Tshing 20 „ Kyau 20,25 Can Khau-i 40 Candle Lali-tsok 67 Cannot ’Veh-nung 18,52 Careful Taung-sing 42,61 Carpenter Mok-ziang 79,96 Carpet Di-than 98 Carriage Mo-tsho 45,67 Carrots ‘Oong lau-bok 28,29 Carvings Khuh-tsauh 70 Cat Mau 80 Cathedral ‘Oong-li-pa-daung 11 Cauliflower Hwo-tshe 28,29 Cent Fung 62 Certainly Ih-ding 59 Chair Iui-ts 44,80 „ (Sedan) Jau-ts 26 Change Wen 39 Characters Z 75 Charcoal Than 28,29,33 Cheaper Jang-tien 71 Chicken Kyi 28,29 Children Siau-noen 7,51,95 Chimney Ien-tshoong 31 China Dz-chi 70 „ Tsoong-kok 5,10 „ Merchants Tsau-saung-jok 17 Chinese Post Office Yeu-tsung-jok 21,43 Chit book Soong-sing-boo 44 Choked Suh-meh 31 Church Li pa-daung 11 City Dzung 26 Clean Koen-zing 23,33,37 Cloak Bau-kwo 57 Clock Tsoong 98 Cloth Poo 38,54 Clothes I-zaung 11,41,49,53 „ and hat I-mau 48 Club, the Tsoong-we 9 Coal Me 85 „ scuttle Me-doong 98 Coal (soft) Ien-me 32 „ (hard) Bak-me 32 Coals Me 28,29,32 Cold Lang 2,24,49,50 Collar Ling-deu 55 Colour Ngan-suh 54,63 Come Le 3,8, etc. „ Tau 5,13 Commercial traveller Teu sang-i kuh 6 Commode Mo-doong 98 Company ‘Aung 17 Compradore Tsang-vaung 20 „ ’Ma-ban 20 Consulate Koong-kwen 11 Contrary (tide) Nyuh-s 23 Convenient Bien-taung 40,74 Cook Da s-voo 27,36,41 „ (to) Sau 27,30 Cooking stove Thih-tsau 31 Coolie Tseh-tien 20,36 „ Siau-koong 20,36 „ Khoo-lih 40,96 Correctly Te 75 Cost Ka-dien 54,59 „ (tow) (Thoo) dien 23 Cotton Mien-hwo 20,85 Country Kok 5 Cuffs Zieu-deu 56 Cup Pe 3,80 Curtains Tshaung-lien 39 Custom Kwe-kyui 10 Customs Sing-kwan 9 Cut Ngah 41 =D= Dark Huh 54 Daughter Noen 7,79,95 Day Nyih 3,45 Dear Kyui 13,71 Dialect (col.) Thoo-bak 73 Dining-room Chuh-van-kan 99 Dinner Ya-van 34 Dirty Auh-tshauh 38,62 Discharging Sia-hoo 17 Discount Ngah-theh 71 Distinctly Tshing-saung 75 Doctor I-sang 6,46 Dog Keu 80 Dollar Yang-dien 45,71 Door Mung 37,83 Down Tih 18 Downstairs Leu-‘au 92 Draught screen Bing-foong 99 Dry ‘Oen 3 „ Koen 50 Duck Ah 28,29 Dust, to Toen koen-zing 38 Duty Soe 14 „ memo Soe-tan 14 =E= Each ‘Me 23,74 Earlier Tsau-tien 34,74 Easier Khwen-tien 58 Easily Yoong-yi 63 East Toong 92 Eat Chuh 51 Ebb The 23 Eggs Dan 28,29 Either ‘Ok-z 91 Embroidery Koo-sieu 70 England Iung-kok 5 Enough Yeu-tse 9 „ Keu 9,45 Evening Ya-khwa 102 Exchange ‘Aung-dzing 18 „ Li-deu 18 „ Wen 31,45 Export Tsheh-kheu 14,15 Extra Ling-nga 37 =F= Family Ih ka-mung 7 Fan Sen-ts 80 Farmer Tsoong-dien-nyung 79 Father Ya 95 Favorable (tide) Zung-s 24 „ (wind) Zung-foong 24 Feed (verb) Iui 65 „ „ Chuh 66 „ (noun) Liau 65 Fever Ngauh-ts 46 „ ‘Oen-nyih 46 Few ’Veh-too 73 Few Sau 90 Filter So-loo-s kaung 99 Find (try to) Zing 62 Finish Tsoo-hau 59 „ Wen 75 Fire Hoo 30 Firewood Za 28,29,33 First Sien 39 First class Deu-tung 26 Fish Ng 28,29 Flag Ji 85 Flannel Fah-lan-nyoong 50 Floor Di-pan 37 Flour Mi-fung 28,29 „ Koen-mien 86 Flow Tsang 23 Flue Ien-tshoong 31 Foggy ‘Oo-loo 97 Food Chuh-kuh meh-z 42 Foot Kyak 28 Foot rule Tshak 86 Foot-stove Kyak-loo 42 Foreign Nga-kok 10,58 Forenoon Zaung-pen-nyih 102 Forget Maung-kyi 25 Fowl Kyi 80 French Fah-kok 21 French Concession Fah-tsoo-ka 45 Frenchman Fah-kok nyung 5 Fresh Dan 30 Friday Li-pa-ng 101 Friend Bang-yeu 4,34,95 Frost Saung 97 Fruits Koo-ts 28,29 Fry Tsien 27,30 Fuel Za 85 Furs Bi-hoo 70 =G= Gardens Hwo-yoen 49,99 German Tuh-kok nyung 5 „ bank Tuh-wo nyung-‘aung 8 Get Zing 40 Girth Mo-doo-ta 64 Give Peh 50,66 Glass Poo-li 44,82 Go Chi 8,9,22 „ (run) Bau 10 Going out Tsheh-chi 34 Go (stop) Ding 40 Godown Dzan-vaung 15 Going away Tsheh-mung 62 Gold Kyung 1 Good Hau 3,4,91 Good-bye Man chi (etc.) 4 Good morning Tsau-‘a 1 Goods Hoo-suh 13,15 Goose Ngoo 28,29 Grapes Beh-dau 28,29 Great Lake Tha-‘oo 22 Great (much) Doo 2 Green Lok 91 Greetings Maung maung 7 Guests Khak-nyung 36 =H= Half Pen 32,45 Hammer Laung-deu 80 Hangchow ‘Aung-tseu 22 Harness Mo ka-sang 68 Hat Mau-ts 48 Have Yeu 10,12,14 He Yi 4 Help Siang-paung 37,39 Here Di-deu 8,37,92 „ Ths-di 24,92 High Kau 55,91 „ Kyui 19 Hills San 22 Home Ok-li 47 Hongkew ‘Oong-kheu 17 Hongkong & Shanghai Bank We-foong 8 Honorable Kwe 5 Hood Boong-poo 10 Horse Mo 64 Hospital I-yoen 46 Hot Nyih 2,24,28 Hot Khe 28 „ Yaung 30 Hoteldes Colonies Mih-tshe-li 94 Hotel Khak-nyui 11 House (home) Ok-li 25 House Vaung-ts 34,82 How Na-nung 18,91 How are you? Hau la va? 1 How many? Kyi? Kyi-kuh? 2,22 How much? Kyi-hau? 14,15 Humble Bi 5 Hurt Saung 67 Husband Dzang-foo 95 =I= I Ngoo 3 Ice Ping 33,97 Ice-box Ping-siang 33 Idiom Wo-fah 75 Idle Lan-doo 40 Idol Boo-sah 84 If Zak-z 13,91 Ill Mau-bing 46 Imperial Customs Sing-kwan 9 Imperial P.O. Yeu-tsung-jok 43 Import Tsing-kheu 13,15 Important Iau-kyung 74 Impossible Le-’veh-ji 59 Increase Ka 52 Inside Li-hyang 55,92 Interrogative sign Va? 1 Iron Thih 81 Is Z 1 =J= Jacket Mo-kwo 53,57 Japan Tooug-yang 21 Jar Peh-deu 32 Jardine’s Yi-‘woo 17 Jetty Mo-deu 9 Jelly Toong 28 Just now Yien-dze 21,52 =K= Kerosene oil Hoo-yeu 28,29 Kettle S-‘oo 32 Key Yak-dz 99 Kitchen Sau-van-kan 99 Knit Kyih 51 Know Nyung-tuh 9 „ Hyau-tuh 46 Kong Kaung 32 =L= Labour Koong-foo 54 Ladder Voo-thi 83 Lamp Tung 36,67 Land Di-bi 82 Late Man 13 „ An 15 Laudah Lau-da 22 Lazy lan-doo 41 Leak Leu 33 Learn ‘Auh 51,73 Leave Ding, li-khe 52 Leaving Li-khe 62 Left Tsi-pien 8,92 Less Sau 35 Let Nyang 58 Letter Sing 21,43,76 Lichees Li-ts 28,29 Light (verb) Tien 36 Lighter (thinner) Bok-tien 54 Listen Thing 75 Little Sau 9 Lock Soo 99 Long Dzang 55,91 Looking glass Kyung-ts 99 Loose Khwen 58,64 „ Soong 68 Lost Seh-theh-tse 62 Low Ti 91 „ (cheap) Jang 19 Lowdah Lau-da 22 Lower (sail) Lauh 35 Lower ‘Au-tien 64 Luggage ‘Ang-li 25 =M= Mafoo Mo-foo 64 Mail Siug 43 Make Tsoo 28,53 Mau Nyung 79 Mandarin (dialect) Kwen-wo 73 Many Too-hau 90 Map Di-doo 83 Market Ka-laung 28 „ Z-mien 19,20 „ Ka 34 Marks Kyi-‘au 17 Mason Ni-s-ziang 79,96 Master Toong-ka 95 Matches Z-le-hoo 28,29 Matters Z-thi 76 Me Ngoo 9 Meals Chuli-van 31 Meat Nyok 28,29 Medicine Yak 46,87 Mend Sieu 32,33 „ Poo 50 Merchant Sang-i-nyung 6 Mexican Iung-yang 72 Mirror Kyung-ts 85 Milk Nyeu-na 28,29 Mine Ngoo-kuh 44 Mistake ’Veh te 35 „ tsho 35 Missing Choeh-sau 62 Missionary Dzen-dau-kuh 6 Monday Li-pa-ih 101 Money (price) Ka-dien 45 Month Nyoeh 40,52 More Too 35 „ Too-tien 56 Morning Tsau 1,34 „ Tsau-zung 73,102 Mother Nyang 95 Much Too 3 Mule Loo-ts 82 Must Iau 51 Mutton (various) 28,29 My Ngoo-kuh 2 =N= Name Sing, ‘au 1 „ Ming-deu 1,2,17 Narrow ‘Ah 58,91 Native Pung-di 22,58 Neighbor Ling-so 96 Newspaper Sing-vung-ts 84 New Sing-kuh 32,40 „ year Sing-nyien 101 Next ‘Au 35,52 „ Kah-pih 44 Next year Khe-nyien 52 „ week ‘Au-li-pa 76 Night Ya-deu 47,102 Ningpo Nyung-poo 17,87 North Pok 92 Not ’Veh 3,9,12 Now Yien-dze 16,40,52 =O= Oatmeal Da-mak-fung 28,29 O’clock Tien-tsoong 24,68 Office Sia-z kan 89 Officer Ban z kuh 6 Oil (Kerosene) Hoo-yeu 28,29 Old Lau 17 Oldest Ting-doo kuh 7 Only Tsuh-yeu 44 „ Peh-koo 91 Open Khe 24,42 Opinion I-s 18 Opium Ia-phien-ien 48 Oranges Kyoeh-ts 28,29 Or ‘Ok-z 91 Order Ding 12 Organ Foong-jung 99 Other Bih-kuh 44,75 Out Nga-deu 51 Outlay Fi-yoong 23 Outside Nga deu 92 =P= Pagoda Thah 82 Paid Foo 10,35,41 „ Wen 14 Painting Wo-doo 83 Paper Ts 84 Parcel Pau 11,43,85 Parents Ya-nyang 95 Pass Pha-s 16 Pass-book Boo-ts 44 Pattern Yang-ts 53 Pattern Yang-suh 58 Pay Be 62 „ Foo 15,41 Peaches Dau-ts 28,29 Pen Pih 86 People Nyung 75 Perhaps Khoong-pho 47 Pheasant Ya-kyi 28,29 Piano Yang-jung 99 Picture Wo-doo 38,99 Piece Jien 62,63 Pile Ih te 85 Pine apple Poo-loo-mih 28,29 Place Di-faung 39 Plant Hwo 85 Plate Bung-ts 80 Please Tshing 10,11,14,15 Pocket De 55 Police Office Dzing-boo-vaung 9 Pony Mo 64,65 Pootung Phoo-toong 16,17 Post Office Su-sing-kwen 21,43 Pot ‘Oo 32 Pound Paung 26 Prepare Yui-be 34 Presently Zieu 31,62 Price Ka-dien 13,19,71 Promise Iung-hyui 52 Proper Iung-ke-kuh 39 Proper Kwe-kyui 48 Properly Hau 63 Pumelo Vung-tan 28,29 Purchase Ma 13 Purchasing Ma 70 Put Pa 39 „ Faung 43,63 Put on Tsak 51 Put-up Tsaung 41 „ Faung-‘au-chi 10 =Q= Quarter Ih khuh 102 Quicker Khwa-tien 10,68,75 Quickly „ 16 =R= Rain Yui, yui-s 2,3 Raining Lauh-yui 2,10 Raise (sail) Tsha 25 Read Dok 74 Ready? Hau-me? 30 Real Tsung-kuh 71 Receive Seu 15 Recently Jung-le 3 Red ‘Oong 91 Re-export Tsen-kheu 14 Relative Tshing-kyoen 95 Repair Sieu 31 Require Yoong 22 Return (back) We-tsen-chi 8 Return home Kyui chi 47 Rice Mi 28,29 Rice straw Dau-za 86 Ricksha Toong-yang-tsho 8,36 Rickshaman Tsho-foo 96 Right Yeu-pien 8,92 Right (correct) Te kuh 35 „ ’Veh tsho 35 Rising Tsang 18 Road Loo 81 Roast Hoong 27 Roll up Tang-chi-le 25,43 Room Vaung-ts 37 „ Kan 41,89 Rope Zung 42,81 Rug Than-ts 65 Run away Dau-tseu 69 Russian Ngoo-kok 21 =S= Saddle (verb) Tsaung 64 „ (noun) Oen-ts 65 Sail Boong 25 Salt (noun) Yien 28,29 „ (adj.) ‘An 30 Same Tsho-’veh-too 19 Sample Yang-ts 58 Saturday Li-pa-lok 102 Saucer Dzo-pe 80 Say Wo 18,44 Scales Paung-tshung 100 Scholar ‘Auh-sang-ts 79,95 Scour Tshah 38 Screen Bing-foong 83 Scrolls Te-lien 84 Scull Yau 24 Second Miau 102 Sedan chair Jau-ts 25,83 Sell Ma-theh 12,13 Servant Yoong-nyung 79,95 Sew Voong 51 Shake Teu-teu 42,50 Shanghai Zaung-he 24 Share Koo 88 Shilling Sien-ling 18 Ship Zen 6 Shirt ‘Oen-san 56 Shoemaker ‘A-ziang 96 Shoes ‘A-ts 41,48,84 Shop Tien 84 Short Toen 55,91 Shoulders Kyien-paung 55 „ Kyung-kweh 67 Shroff Seu-tsang 20 „ Seli-lau-fu 20 Shut Kwan 24 Sick Sang-bing 4,47 Sieve Pang-s 100 Silk S-dzeu 70,85 Silver Nyung 18 Silversmith Nyung-ziang 96 Silver ware Nyung-chi 70 Singlet Tshung-san 53 Sir Sien-sang 73 Sister Tsi-me 95 Sit Zoo 49 Skirt Juin 57 Sleeve Zieu-ts 57 Slower Man-tien 10,75 Slowly Man-le-si 47 Smoke Ien 3 Smoke Chuh-ien 3,43 Snake Zo 81 Snipe Tsok-kyi 28,29 Snow Sih 97 So Zeh-ke 40 So Soo-i 63,76 Soap Bi-zau 37 Soda Kan 63 Solder ‘Oeu 32 Some Tien 24 Son Nyi-ts 7,79,95 Soochow Soo-tseu 22 Soon Zieu 7 Soup Thaung 28 South Nen 92 Sovereign Kyung-yang 72 Speak Wo 75 Spinach Poo-tshe 28,29 Spoiled Loong-wa 61 Stairs Voo-thi 83 Starch Tsiang 61 Start Khe (zen) 24 „ Khe (tsho) 25,26 Station Tsho-dzan 26 Stay Ding 68 Steady ’Wung-taung 19 Steam Tsung 27 Steamer Lung-zen 9,16,43 Stew Tung 27 Stiff Ngang 61 Still Wan 11 Stockings Mah 50,53 Stones Zak-deu 85 Store Tien 44 Stop Ding 10,24 Storage Dzan-tsoo 5 Stove Hoo-loo 41,80 Straw Dau-za 66 Strawberries Nga-kah yang-me 28,29 Stream ‘Oo 81 Strong Lau-kuh 42 Stronger Hau-tien 47 Study Dok-su 73 Substitute Thi-koong 40 Sugar Daung 28,29 Summer ‘Au-thien 54 Sun Nyih-deu 41,49 Sunday Li-pa-nyih 101 Supper Ya-van 34 Surname Sing 1 Sweep Sau 37 =T= Table De-ts 36,80 Tailor Ze-voong 53,57 Take (drive) Tsho 9,11 „ Soong 21,43 „ Ta 26 „ out Tan tsheh-chi 42 Take off Tan-chi 65 Taken (moved) Pen 39 Tea Dzo 3,27 „ Dzo-yih 28,29 Teacher Sien-sang 73,95 Tea-pot Dzo-‘oo 70 Tear Phoo 61 Tell Kau-soo 10,11 Thanks Zia-zia 3 That I-kuh 90 There I-deu 39,92 Therefore Soo-i 15,51,91 Then Keh-meh 51 „ Nan-meh 91 Thicker ‘Eu-tien 34 Think Siang 19,48,74 Things Meh-z 35,38 This Di-kuh 13,50,59 These Di-we 13 Those I-kuh 90 Thread Sien 81 Thursday Li-pa-s 101 Thus Zeh-ke 91 Tickets Phiau-ts 45 Tide Dzau-s 23 Tie Khwung 42 „ (noun) Kyih-ts 53 Tiffin Tsoong-van 36 Tight Kyung 58,64 Timber Mok-deu 81 Tired Sa-doo 47 To Tau 9 Toast (to) Hoong 27 To-day Kyung-tsau 2,12,18 Told Kau-soo 60 Too Thuh 3,13 „ late Thuh-an 15 „ much Thuh-doo 45 To-morrow Ming-tsau 4,21,34 To-night Kyung-ya 24 Ton Tung 32 Torn Loong-wa 61 Tow Thoo 23 „ Thoo-chien 25 Transaction Sang-i 88 Tranship Koo-zen 14 Tree Zu 85 Trousers Khoo-ts 53 Trunk Siang-ts 80 Tuesday Li-pa-nyi 101 Turkey Hoo-kyi 28,29 Turnips Lau-bok 28,29 Twice Liang-we 102 =U= Umbrella San 80 United States Hwo-ji (see America) 21 Union Church Soo-tseu-‘oo li-pa-daung 11 Until Tuug 68 Upstairs Leu-laung 92 Use Yoong 13,30 =V= Vegetables Soo-tshe 28,29 Verandah Yang-de 100 Very ’Man 2,4,91 Very well ’Man-hau 60 Vet. surgeon Mo-i 66 Visitor Khak-nyung 83 =W= Wages Koong-dien 40,41 Wait Tung-la 8,40 Walk Tseu 65 Want I au 8,11,12,22 Wardrobe I-dzu 100 Wares Hoo-suh 71 Warm Nyih 2,31,97 Wash Zing 37,49 Washers Nyien-dien 68 Washerman Da-i-zaung-kuh 50 „ Zing-i-zaung-kuh 61,96 Washstand Kha-mien-de 100 Water S 15,24,27,50 Waterproof apron Yeu-poo 10 Watch Piau 80 Way Loo 9 We Nyi 90 Weather Thien-chi 2,97 Wednesday Li-pa-san 101 Week Li-pa 35,101 Weighing Dzoong 26 Well Hau 1,4 „ (noun) Tsing 86 West Si 92 Wharf Mo-deu 17 What Sa 3,13 When Kyi-z 5,13,25 Where? ‘A-li? 10,39 Wheels Lung-ben 68 Wheelbarrow Siau-tsho 43,81 Which ‘A-li 90 Whichever Dzoe-bien 90 White Bak 91 Who Sa? 90 Why? We-sa? 40 „ Sa yoen-koo? 44,62 Wife Nyang-ts 6,95 Wine Tsieu 48 Wind Foong 2,24 Window Tshaung 24,37,38,44 Wipe Kha 38 Wish Iau 12,74 Woman Nyui-nyung 79 Words Seh-wo 73 Work Sang-weh 47 Worse Cheu 13 Wrap Pau 42 Write Sia 75 =Y= Yangtze Yang-ts 17 Year Nyien 5,101 Yellow Waung 91 Yesterday Zauh-nyih 34,101 Yokohama Specie Bank Tsung-kyung nyung-‘aung 93 You Noong 1,3,6,90 Youngest Ting-siau-kuh 7 Your Noong-kuh 1 Yulo Yau 24 The following helps in the Study of the Shanghai Dialect are for sale at the =PRESBYTERIAN MISSION PRESS BOOK ROOM,= _18 PEKING ROAD, SHANGHAI:_ ----- Lessons in the Shanghai Dialect, Rev. F. L. Hawks Pott, D.D. _Price $2.50_. ----- Dr. Yates’ First Lessons in Chinese. _$2.00; to Missionaries $1.50_. ----- English-Chinese Vocabulary of the Shanghai Dialect (prepared by a Committee of the Shanghai Vernacular Society). _Handsome quarto volume, $6.00_. ----- Chinese-English Dictionary. By Revs. D. H. Davis and J. A. Silsby. _Price $3.00_. ----- Complete Shanghai Syllabary, Rev. J. A. Silsby Price _$2.50_. ----- Useful Phrases in the Shanghai Dialect. By. G. McIntosh. _Price $1.00_. ----- =IN CHINESE ONLY.= Mateer’s Lessons in Shanghai Dialect, by Bishop Graves $0.10 „ „ Interleaved ... ... ... ... 0.15 Guide to the Shanghai Dialect. Pastor Kranz ... ... 0.10 Walking in the Light. Character Colloquial ... ... ... 0.06 „ „ „ Romanised „ ... ... ... 0.12 Shanghai 200 Characters. Rev. J. A. Silsby ... ... ... 0.03 „ Romanised Primer ... ... ... ... ... 0.10 Transcriber’s Notes: * In the text version only, italicized letters are contained within underscores _ _, bold letters within = =. * Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this text. English word hyphenation hass been standardized. * Footnotes have been placed after the associated phrase. * This book contains rarely used forms of some Chinese characters. Any eReader should contain as full a set of fonts as possible. * Characters not found in the Unicode 13 set are replaced by ‘[Cn]’ where ‘n’ is a unique number. Descriptions of the unknown characters are at the end of the book. Transcriber’s Notes: Unknown Characters. [C0] The actual representation is an ‘i’ with a double dot underneath. [C1] 貝 on left, 强 on right. Ideographic Description Sequence: ⿰貝强

Useful Phrases in the Shanghai Dialect

McIntosh, Gilbert

['en']

26

{'Chinese language -- Conversation and phrase-books', 'Chinese language -- Dialects -- China -- Shanghai'}

PG62133

Text

AGRICOLA CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS C. F. CLAY, MANAGER LONDON: FETTER LANE, E.C. 4 [Illustration] NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO. BOMBAY } CALCUTTA } MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. MADRAS } TORONTO: THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TOKYO: MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA ALL RIGHTS RESERVED AGRICOLA A STUDY OF AGRICULTURE AND RUSTIC LIFE IN THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF LABOUR BY W E HEITLAND MA FELLOW OF ST JOHN’S COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1921 _‘Inspect the basis of the social pile:_ _Inquire,’ said I, ‘how much of mental power_ _And genuine virtue they possess who live_ _By bodily toil, labour exceeding far_ _Their due proportion, under all the weight_ _Of that injustice which upon ourselves_ _Ourselves entail.’ Such estimate to frame_ _I chiefly looked (what need to look beyond?)_ _Among the natural abodes of men,_ _Fields with their rural works; recalled to mind_ _My earliest notices; with these compared_ _The observations made in later youth,_ _And to that day continued—For, the time_ _Had never been when throes of mighty Nations_ _And the world’s tumult unto me could yield,_ _How far soe’er transported and possessed,_ _Full measure of content; but still I craved_ _An intermingling of distinct regards_ _And truths of individual sympathy_ _Nearer ourselves._ WORDSWORTH, _Prelude_, book XIII. PREFACE Very few words are needed here, for the book is meant to explain its own scope. I have only to thank those to whose kindness I am deeply indebted. Professor Buckland was so good as to help me when I was striving to utilize the evidence of the Roman jurists. Chapter XLIX in particular owes much to his genial chastisement. On chapters II and LXI Mr G G Coulton has given me most valuable criticism. Yet I thank these gentlemen with some reluctance, fearing that I may seem to connect their names with errors of my own. Mr T R Glover kindly read chapter XXIX. Professor Housman called my attention to the ‘Farmer’s Law,’ and kindly lent me Mr Ashburner’s articles, to which I have referred in Appendix B. To all these, and to the Syndics of the University Press for undertaking the publication of this unconventional work, I hereby express my sincere gratitude. My reasons for adopting the method followed in this book are given on pages 5-6 and 468. W E HEITLAND CAMBRIDGE _August 1920_ TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGES INTRODUCTORY I. EVIDENCE 1-7 II. LAND AND LABOUR 7-15 AUTHORITIES IN DETAIL—GREEK III. THE ILIAD AND ODYSSEY 16-22 IV. HESIOD, WORKS AND DAYS 22-24 V. STRAY NOTES FROM EARLY POETS 24-26 VI. TRACES OF SERFDOM IN GREEK STATES 26-28 VII. HERODOTUS 28-30 VIII. THE TRAGEDIANS Aeschylus and Sophocles 31-33 Euripides 33-37 IX. THE ‘CONSTITUTION OF ATHENS’ OR ‘OLD OLIGARCH’ 37-40 X. ARISTOPHANES 40-48 XI. THUCYDIDES 48-52 XII. XENOPHON 53-61 XIII. THE COMIC FRAGMENTS 61-65 XIV. EARLY LAWGIVERS AND THEORISTS 65-70 XV. PLATO 70-80 XVI. THE EARLIER ATTIC ORATORS 80-85 XVII. ARISTOTLE 85-103 XVIII. THE LATER ATTIC ORATORS 103-112 XIX. THE MACEDONIAN PERIOD AND THE LEAGUES 112-130 Polybius etc—Theocritus—Plautus and Terence—Inscriptions—Letter of Philip V to Larisa—Evidence preserved by Plutarch, Diodorus, Livy, etc ROME—EARLY PERIOD TO 200 BC XX. THE TRADITIONS COMBINED AND DISCUSSED 131-149 [No contemporary authors] XXI. ABSTRACT OF CONCLUSIONS 149-150 ROME—MIDDLE PERIOD XXII. INTRODUCTORY GENERAL VIEW OF PERIOD 200 BC-180 AD 151-164 Growth of slavery—Slave risings, etc XXIII. CATO 164-173 XXIV. AGRICULTURE IN THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 174-177 XXV. VARRO 178-187 XXVI. CICERO 187-199 XXVII. SALLUST ETC 199-202 ROME—THE EMPIRE XXVIII. AGRICULTURE AND AGRICULTURAL LABOUR UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE. GENERAL INTRODUCTION 203-212 ROME—AUGUSTUS TO NERO XXIX. HORACE AND VERGIL 213-241 XXX. THE ELDER SENECA ETC 241-243 XXXI. SENECA THE YOUNGER 244-248 XXXII. LUCAN, PETRONIUS, ETC 248-250 XXXIII. COLUMELLA 250-269 AGE OF THE FLAVIAN AND ANTONINE EMPERORS XXXIV. GENERAL INTRODUCTION 270-274 Note on emigration from Italy 274-275 XXXV. MUSONIUS 275-280 XXXVI. PLINY THE ELDER 281-287 XXXVII. TACITUS 287-292 Note on an African inscription 293 XXXVIII. FRONTINUS 294-296 XXXIX. INSCRIPTIONS RELATIVE TO _ALIMENTA_ 296-300 XL. DION CHRYSOSTOM 300-303 XLI. NEW TESTAMENT WRITERS 303-305 XLII. MARTIAL AND JUVENAL 305-317 XLIII. PLINY THE YOUNGER 317-325 XLIV. SUETONIUS ETC 325-328 XLV. APULEIUS 328-335 COMMODUS TO DIOCLETIAN XLVI. GENERAL INTRODUCTION 336-342 XLVII. THE AFRICAN INSCRIPTIONS 342-353 XLVIII. DISCUSSION OF THE SAME 353-361 XLIX. THE JURISTS OF THE _DIGEST_ 361-378 L. THE LATER COLONATE, ITS PLACE IN ROMAN HISTORY 378-384 Additional notes 385 FROM DIOCLETIAN LI. GENERAL INTRODUCTION 386-399 LII. LIBANIUS 399-402 LIII. SYMMACHUS 402-409 LIV. AMMIANUS 409-415 LV. CLAUDIAN 415-417 LVI. VEGETIUS 417-419 CHRISTIAN WRITERS LVII. LACTANTIUS 420-422 LVIII. SULPICIUS SEVERUS 422-423 LIX. SALVIAN 423-426 LX. APOLLINARIS SIDONIUS 426-432 LXI. CONCLUDING CHAPTER 432-459 APPENDIX SOME BYZANTINE AUTHORITIES A. The _Geoponica_ 460-462 B. The ‘Farmer’s Law’ 462-464 C. Modern books, a few interesting extracts and references 465-46 D. List of some of the works found useful in this inquiry 468-471 INDICES I. GENERAL 472-479 II. WORDS AND PHRASES 479-482 III. PASSAGES CITED 483-489 IV. MODERN AUTHORITIES 489-490 V. COUNTRIES, PLACES AND PEOPLES 490-492 INTRODUCTORY I. EVIDENCE. The inquiry of which the results are set forth in these pages was undertaken in the endeavour to satisfy my own mind on a very important question in the history of the past. Circumstances have compelled me to interest myself in the civilization of the Greco-Roman world. And it has always been a painful disadvantage to students of the ‘classical’ systems that the available record neither provides adequate labour-statistics nor furnishes a criticism of existing labour-conditions from the point of view of the handworkers. Accustomed as we are nowadays to continual agitations for increase of wages and reduction of working hours, with centuries of strange experience in the working of Poor-laws, we are in no danger of undervaluing the importance of the wage-earner in our social fabric. We are rather in danger of forgetting other (and perhaps not less vital) considerations, under pressure of the material claims of the labourer and his hire. Power goes by votes; the handworker is now a voter; and the voice of the handworker is loud in the land. No scheme is too wild to find advocates; and those who venture to assert the right of invention, organization and thrift to superior recognition as public benefits often think it necessary to adopt an apologetic tone. Now it may be that this is a passing phase, and that the so-called ‘working-class’—that is, handworkers for wages—will come to see that the civilization whose comforts they enjoy, and whose discomforts they resent, does not wholly depend upon the simple repeated acts of the handworkers themselves. Perhaps there are already signs of some such reaction. But, if so, the reaction must be voluntary; for no power exists in this country to constrain the handworker to take reasonable views, in short to face facts. In these words I am not implying any denial of the reasonableness of many of his claims. To offer an opinion on questions of more or less is no business of mine. But, when we compare modern industries in general with those of the ancient world, we find ourselves in presence of a very different situation. The largest scale of operations attainable in antiquity seems small and crude by the side of recent achievements, for instance the building of the Pyramids compared with the Panama canal. Machinery, transport, and scientific discovery in general, have made it possible to carry out colossal undertakings with comparative ease and without wholesale destruction of human life. The greatest works of the ancients are for the most part silent witnesses to the ruthless employment of forced labour, either that of captives or bought slaves or that of the impressed subjects of an autocrat. Mere brute force, applied in unlimited quantity[1] with callous indifference to the sufferings of the toilers, was the chief means at disposal: mechanical invention had got so far as to render possible some tasks that without it could not have been performed at all. It gave extended effect to the mass of forced labour, and there it stopped, for we have no reason to think that it improved the labourer’s lot. The surviving evidence as to the condition[2] of slaves in mines and factories enables us to form some faint notion of the human wastage resulting from the cruel forced-labour system. We may then state the position briefly thus: to attempt great enterprises was only possible through the crude employment of labour in great masses: the supply of this labour was, or appeared to be, procurable only by compulsion: and compulsion was operative through the institution of slavery or the passive submission of cowed populations to the will of despots. But if slavery promoted large-scale enterprise, surely large-scale enterprise tended to establish slavery in the form of forced labour more firmly than ever. In the modern world the necessity of employing free labour has stimulated scientific invention, in mechanical and other departments, the tendency of which is to require greater intellectual[3] development in the labourer, and in the long run to furnish him with effective means of asserting his own freedom. Under modern conditions, the gradual displacement of small handicraftsmen by the growth of great capitalistic combinations is going on, perhaps not always for good. The public accept this result as fate. And, if economy in production and prime-cost cheapness are the only things worth considering, it is not easy to condemn the process. But events are steadily demonstrating the fear once entertained, that handworkers in general would find their position weakened thereby, to be groundless. If the independent craftsman has lost ground, the wage-earning journeyman has gained. We need not follow out this topic in detail, but note the contrast presented by the ancient world. The ‘small man’ in crafts and trades was able to hold his own, for without steam-power the capitalist was not strong enough to suppress him. In a small way he was something of a capitalist himself, and commonly owned slave-apprentices. His part in ancient civilization was undoubtedly far more important than it appears in literature: for he ministered to the ordinary needs of every day, while literature, then as now and more than now, chiefly recorded the exceptional. When we turn to the wage-earner, who earns a living by hiring out his bodily powers to an employer, we are dealing with a wholly different class. These are the free men who in a slave-holding society have to compete with the slave. In the course of the present inquiry we must keep a sharp look-out for every reference or allusion to such persons in the department of agriculture, and in particular note numerous passages in which the status of labourers cannot be inferred with certainty from the language. But the importance of this special point is of course not confined to agriculture. I have chosen to limit my inquiry to the case of agriculture for these reasons. First, because it was and is the industry on which human life, and therefore all other industries and all progress, did and do rest. Secondly, because its economic importance in the ancient world, so far from declining, manifestly increased. The problem of food-supply was always there. And it was never more pressing than in the later ages of Rome, when imperial efforts to enforce production, if successful, fed her barbarian armies, at the same time attracting the attention of barbarian invaders to lands that promised the food-crops which they themselves were too lazy to produce. Thirdly, because the importance of agriculture was and is not merely economic. Its moral value, as a nursery of steady citizens and, at need, of hardy soldiers, was and still should be recognized by thoughtful men. Therefore its conditions and its relative prosperity or decay deserve the attention of all historians of all periods. Unluckily statistical record of a scientific character is not available for the times that we call ancient, and numbers are notoriously liable to corruption in manuscripts. Therefore I have only ventured to give figures seldom and with reserve. For agriculture we have nothing on the scale of the inscriptions that record wages, for instance on public works at Athens. On the other hand we have for certain periods the evidence of specialists such as Cato, Varro and Columella, to whom we owe much information as to the actual or possible conditions of rustic enterprise and labour. The relation of agriculture and agricultural labour to the state as a whole is a subject illustrated by great theorists such as Plato and Aristotle. The practical problems of landowning and farming meet us now and then in the contemporary evidence of such men as Xenophon and the younger Pliny. Even orators, though necessarily partisan witnesses, at times give valuable help: they may distort facts, but it is not their interest to lessen their own power of persuasion by asserting what is manifestly incredible. The ancient historians tell us very little, even of the past; contemporary evidence from them is especially rare. They are preoccupied with public affairs, and the conditions of rustic life and labour only concern them at moments when serious distress or disorder compels attention. Rhetoricians and poets are doubtful witnesses. Like the orators, they use their matter freely and with much colouring for their immediate purposes. But they are not, like forensic orators, in direct contact with practical emergencies. The questions arising out of Vergil’s _Georgics_ are problems to be discussed by themselves. The contribution of encyclopaedic or occasional writers is in some cases of value. I will here only name the elder Pliny and Apuleius. Books of travel and geography, for instance Herodotus and Strabo, give stray details, but generally in reference to distant countries, mostly in the East and so hardly within my subject, save for purposes of comparison. There are however two topics with which I am not directly concerned, but which it is impossible wholly to ignore in speaking of ancient agriculture. First, the relation of military duty to landholding [the farmer as citizen soldier], and mercenary service [the rustic as volunteer for pay]. This has been so fully treated in modern handbooks that I need say little about it. Secondly, the various conditions of tenure of land. That rustic life and therewith rustic labour were directly and deeply affected by varieties of tenure, needs no proof. The cited opinions of Roman lawyers in the Digest are the main authority on points of this kind, and stray references elsewhere serve to illustrate them. In conclusion I have only to insist again on the fact that we have no direct witness of the labourer’s, or even the working farmer’s, point of view. The evidence all comes from above; and therefore generally gives us a picture of conditions as the law meant them to be and presumed them normally to be. How far the practical working corresponded to the legal position, is only to be guessed with caution from the admissions involved in the elaboration of legal remedies; and, in the case of imperial _coloni_, from the unique evidence of the notable African inscriptions. It is I trust after the above considerations not unreasonable to devote no special chapters to certain writers whom nevertheless it is often necessary to cite in notes. Diodorus, Livy, Athenaeus, Macrobius, Gellius, Palladius, are cases of the kind. Stray references in their works are valuable, but there is nothing to require a treatment of them as several wholes. Even Livy is chiefly useful as handing down remains of past tradition: hence he (and Dionysius and Plutarch with him) have a leading place in the introductory chapter on early Rome. So too the writers of the so-called _historia Augusta_ and the laws of the Theodosian and Justinian Codes find their place in the notes to certain chapters. On the other hand (to omit obvious cases) Euripides, Xenophon, the younger Seneca, Martial, the younger Pliny, Apuleius, Ammianus, Symmachus, Apollinaris Sidonius, need careful treatment with full regard to the periods and circumstances by which their evidential values are severally qualified. And in order to place each witness in his proper setting it is sometimes necessary to pause and group a number of circumstances together in a special chapter. This arises from the endeavour to preserve so far as possible the thread of continuity, which is always really there, though at times very thin, owing to the loss of many works in the course of ages. In such chapters one has to look both backward and forward, and often to digress for a moment on topics only connected indirectly with the main object. I have tried to avoid needless repetitions, but some repetitions are unavoidable, since the same point often serves to illustrate different parts of the argument. To make a system of cross-references from chapter to chapter quite complete is hardly possible, and would add immensely to the bulk of footnotes. It has seemed better to attempt completeness by elaboration of the Index. A few details from a period later than that with which I am concerned are given in the Appendix, as being of interest. Also the names of some books from which in a course of miscellaneous reading I have derived more or less help, particularly in noting modern survivals or analogies. For significant matter occurs in quite unexpected quarters. And the observers who record facts of rustic life and labour in Italy or France, in North or Central or South America, without attempting to manipulate them in connexion with a theory, deserve much gratitude. It is evident that in the handling of evidence there is room for some variety of method. And it seems reasonable to hold that the choice of method should be mainly guided by two leading considerations, the nature of the evidence available and the aim of the inquiry pursued. In the present case the inquiry deals with a part, a somewhat neglected part, of Greco-Roman history: and the subject is one that can by no means be strictly confined to ascertaining the bare facts of farm life and labour. That the conditions of agriculture were not only important in connexion with food-supply, but had an extensive moral and political bearing, is surely beyond dispute. And the nature of the surviving evidence favours, or rather requires, the taking of a correspondingly wide view. Outside the circle of technical writings, the literary evidence almost always has an eye to the position of agriculture as related to the common weal; nor is this point of view ignored even by the technical writers. Therefore, in treating the subject as I have tried to treat it, it is very necessary to take each witness separately so far as possible, and not to appraise the value of his testimony without a fair consideration of his condition and environment. This necessity is peculiarly obvious in the case of the theorists, whose witness is instructive in a very high degree, but only when we bear in mind the existing state of things from observation of which their conclusions were derived. And the changes of attitude in philosophic thought are sometimes highly instructive. Take farm life and labour as it appears to Plato and Aristotle and later to Musonius: a whole volume of history, economic moral and political, lies in the interval of some 400 years. Inscriptions furnish little to the student of this subject, but that little is worth having. To conclude this paragraph, I do not apologize for putting my authorities in the witness-box and questioning them one by one. For only thus do I see a possibility of giving a true picture of the conditions with which I am concerned. It is a long method, but perhaps not uninteresting, and I see no other. It may seem necessary to explain why I have not devoted special chapters to rustic life and labour in Oriental countries, some of which eventually became parts of the Roman empire. Such countries are for instance Egypt, Palestine and Syria. One reason is that I could do nothing more than compile conclusions of the inquirers who have lately rescued a vast mass of detail, chiefly from the Egyptian papyri. Age forbade me to undertake this task unless it seemed clear that my inquiry really depended on it. But, inasmuch as I have not been trying to produce a technical treatise upon ancient agriculture, I do not think it necessary. That there is room for such a treatise, I have no doubt: nor that its writer will need to have many years at his disposal and a good knowledge of several sciences at his back. With regard to eastern countries other than Egypt, practically the Seleucid empire, knowledge is at present very scanty, as Rostowzew has to confess. Ancient India lies quite beyond my range, as having never been a part of the Roman empire: but there is evidently much of interest to be gathered in this field. From these extensive and promising researches my limited effort is divided by a clearly marked line. I am concerned with agriculture and agricultural labour not as the occupation of passive populations merely producing so much food year by year, peoples over whom centuries might pass without ascertainable change of a moral social or political character. Such peoples, in short, as do not get beyond the conception of ruler and ruled to that of state and citizen, or at least have not yet done so. For of all conclusions to be drawn from the history of the Greco-Roman world none seems to me more certain than the fact that, while political social and moral movements affected the conditions of agriculture, agricultural changes reacted upon political social and moral conditions. Thus the general history of the peoples, comprising the rise and fall of ancient efforts towards self-government, must always be kept in view: the fluctuations of what I may call civic values, and the position of farmers as labourers or employers of labour cannot be treated in separate compartments and their reciprocal effect ignored. That in the later stages of my inquiry Oriental influences begin to dominate Roman imperial policy, is evident, and I have not left this factor out of account. But this phenomenon announces the end of the old world. The long struggle of the Empire in the East and its final overthrow by the forces of Islam, its break-up in the West and the foundation of new nation-states, are beyond my range. In the Appendix I have put some remarks on two documents of the Byzantine period, from which we get glimpses of changes that were proceeding in the eastern empire while it still held its ground and was indeed the most highly organized of existing powers. To these I have subjoined a list of some of the books I have consulted and found helpful in various degrees, particularly such as have furnished modern illustrations in the way of analogy or survival. A few special quotations from some of these may serve to shew how very striking such illustrations can be. II. LAND AND LABOUR. Of the many difficult questions connected with the past history of the human race few have evoked such a difference of opinion as the practical importance of slavery. By some inquirers it has been held that the so-called ‘classical’ civilization of the Greco-Roman world rested upon a slavery basis, in short that slavery alone enabled that civilization to follow the lines of its actual development. In reply to this doctrine it is urged[4] that its holders have been led astray by an unhistorical method. They have been deeply impressed by the all-pervading evils of the economic and domestic slave-system during the period (say 200 BC-200 AD roughly) when it was in full extension and vigour. The prepossession thus created has led them to misinterpret the phenomena of earlier ages, and to ignore the significance of the later period of decline. Prejudiced eyes have detected slavery where it was not, and have seen in it where existent an importance greater than impartial inquiry will justify. Moreover the discussion of slavery-questions in modern times, conducted with the intemperate warmth of partisan controversy, have had an influence unfavourable to the statement of facts in their true relations, and therefore to the exercise of cool judgment. According to this view the facts of our record shew that, while slave-labour had its four centuries or so of predominance, free-labour never ceased, and on it, and not on slavery, the civilization of the ‘classical’ world was built up. It is argued that in primitive conditions there was little slavery, that growth of trade and exchange (and therewith of civilization) led to division of labour and the growth of larger enterprises. On this follows a time in which the employment of slave-labour becomes more and more common, and ends by being for some centuries the basis of economic and domestic life. In due course comes the period of decline, when for various reasons slaves became less numerous, and the highly-organized civilization of antiquity relapses into the primitive conditions of the early Middle Age. Slavery is not extinct, but reverts generally to various degrees of serfdom, resembling that which meets us in the early traditions of Greek slavery. Things have gone round the full circle, and the world takes a fresh start. This version of the process is attractive. It presents to us a spectacle of cyclic movement, pleasing from its simplicity and dignity. But it seems to imply that the old civilization reached its height more or less concurrently with the growth of slavery. One is driven to ask[5] whether the concurrence was purely accidental or not. So far as concerns the manufacture of articles for export by slave-industry, it can hardly have been a mere chance: nor is it denied that in this department it was the demand created by the needs of growing civilization that called forth the supply. Luxury too is merely a name for such needs when they clearly exceed strict necessaries of life: and here too the monstrous extravagancies of domestic slavery were a characteristic feature of the civilization of the Greco-Roman world. That neither of these forms of servile employment could outlive the civilization that had produced them, is surely no wonder. The case of slavery in agriculture is less simple, and several questions may suggest themselves to anyone who considers this subject with an open mind. Agriculture was long regarded, from a social point of view, as superior to other occupations dependent on bodily labour. This opinion dated from very early times when, as traditions agree, the land was owned by privileged nobles who as members of powerful clans formed aristocracies of a more or less military character. War was waged by men fighting hand to hand, and it was natural that handwork of a kind likely to promote health and strength should be honoured above manual trades of a less invigorating and even sedentary character. The development of cities and urban life, which in many states led to the overthrow of the old clan aristocracies, did not make handicraftsmen the equals of agriculturists in popular esteem. Pressure to win a firm footing on the land was as marked a feature in Athenian Attica as in Roman Latium. Agriculture was a profession worthy of the free citizen, and the ownership of a plot of land stamped the citizen as a loyal and responsible member of a free and self-conscious community. The ruin of Attic farmers in the Peloponnesian war, the disastrous changes in Italian agriculture after Rome became imperial, still left the old prepossession. The charm of country life and pursuits remained as an ineffective ideal. Greek philosophers were impressed with the virtues of farmer-folk, virtues social moral and ultimately political. From them Cicero and others learnt to praise rustic life: the Gracchi made vain efforts to revive it: the poets, led by Vergil, pictured the glories of old Italian agriculture: but the aspirations were vain. The ‘classical’ civilization was urban in its growth, and urban it remained. Writers on agriculture might lament that free men, capable of tilling the land, loitered idly in the city. In practice they had to take facts as they found them, and give elaborate precepts for a farm-system in which slavery was the essential factor. It was and is possible to regard agriculture from various points of view. Three of these at least deserve a preliminary consideration. The nakedly economic view, that the production of food is necessary for any life above that of mere savages, and therefore is worthy of respect, can never have been wholly absent from men’s minds in any age. It was common property, and found frequent expression. Even when various causes led to much dependence on imported corn, the sentiment still survived, and its soundness was recognized by philosophers. The military view, that the hardy peasant makes the best soldier, was generally accepted in principle, but its relation to agriculture in the strict sense of tillage was not always a direct one. The technical training of skilled combatants began early in Greece. It was not only in the Spartan or Cretan systems that such training was normal: the citizen armies of Athens consisted of men who had passed through a long course of gymnastic exercises and drill. During their training these young men can hardly have devoted much labour to the tillage of farms, even those of them who were of country birth. What percentage of them settled down in their later years to farm-life, is just what one vainly wishes to know. The helot-system supplied the tillage that fed the warrior-caste of Sparta. It would seem that the toils of hunting played a great part in producing the military fitness required of the young Spartiate. We may be pretty sure that the Thessalian cavalry—wealthy lords ruling dependent cultivators—were not tillers of the soil. Boeotia and Arcadia were both lands in which there was a large farmer class. Boeotian infantry were notable for their steadiness in the shock of battle. But they were not untrained, far from it. United action was ever difficult in Arcadia, where small cities lay scattered in the folds of mountains. Hence no Arcadian League ever played a leading part in Greece. But the rustics of these country towns and villages were man for man as good material for war-work as Greece could produce. In the later age of professional soldering they, with the Aetolians and others in the less civilized parts, furnished numbers of recruits to the Greek mercenary armies. But the regular mercenary who had the luck to retire in comfortable circumstances, on savings of pay and loot, is portrayed to us as more inclined to luxury and wantonness in some great city than to the simple monotony of rustic life. Nor must we forget that slaves were often an important part[6] of war-booty, and that the professional warrior was used to the attendance of slaves (male and female) even on campaigns. So far the connexion of peasant and soldier does not amount to much more than the admission that the former was a type of man able to endure the hardships of a military career. The national regular army formed by Philip son of Amyntas in Macedonia, afterwards the backbone of Alexander’s mixed host, is in itself a phenomenon of great interest: for in making it Philip made a nation. That the ranks were mainly filled with country folk is certain. But, what with wastage in wars and the settlement of many old soldiers in the East, there is little evidence to shew whether any considerable number of veterans returned to Macedon and settled on the land. I believe that such cases were few. The endless wars waged by Alexander’s successors with mixed and mongrel armies were hardly favourable to rustic pursuits: foundation of great new cities was the characteristic of the times. When we turn to Rome we find a very different story. Tradition represents landowners settled on the land and tilling it as the persons responsible for the defence of the state. Cincinnatus called from the plough to be dictator is the typical figure of early patriotic legend. When the Roman Plebeians dislodged the Patrician clans from their monopoly of political power, the burden of military service still rested on the _adsidui_, the men with a footing on the land. Tradition still shews us the farmer-soldier taking the risk of disaster to his homestead during his absence on campaigns. In the historical twilight of fragmentary details, coloured by later imagination, thus much is clear and credible. The connexion between landholding and soldiering was not openly disregarded until the reforms of Marius. The age of revolution was then already begun, and one of its most striking features was the creation of a professional soldiery, a force which, as experience proved, was more easy to raise than to disband. The method of pensioning veterans by assigning to them parcels of land for settlement was in general a failure, for the men were unused to thrift and indisposed to a life of patient and uneventful labour. The problem of the Republic was inherited by the Empire, and attempts at solution were only partially successful: but the system of standing armies, posted on the frontiers, made the settlement of veterans in border-provinces a matter of less difficulty. From the third century AD onwards we find a new plan coming into use. Men were settled with their families on lands near the frontiers, holding them by a military tenure which imposed hereditary liability to service in the armies. Thus the difficulty was for a time met by approaching it from the other end. The superiority of the rustic recruit was as fully recognized as ever: at the end of the fourth century it was reaffirmed[7] by Vegetius. I pass on to the third point of view, which I may perhaps call philosophic. It appears in practice as the view of the statesman, in theory as that of the speculative philosopher. Men whose life and interests are bound up with agriculture are in general a steady class, little inclined to wild agitations and rash ventures. On a farm there is always something not to be left undone without risk of loss. The operations of nature go on unceasingly, uncontrolled by man. Man must adapt himself to the conditions of soil and weather: hence he must be ever on the watch to take advantage of his opportunities, and this leaves him scant leisure for politics. We may add that the habit of conforming to nature’s laws, and of profiting by not resisting what cannot be successfully resisted, is a perpetual education in patience. Working farmers as a class were not men lightly to embark in revolutionary schemes, so long as their condition was at all tolerable. It must be borne in mind that before the invention of representative systems a citizen could only vote by appearing in person at the city, where all the Assemblies were held. Assemblies might be adjourned, and two journeys, to the city and back, were not only time-wasting and tiresome, but might have to be repeated. Accordingly we hear of the encouragement of Attic farmers by Peisistratus[8] as being a policy designed to promote the stability of his government. At Rome we find reformers alarmed at the decay of the farmer-class in a great part of Italy, and straining to revive it as the sound basis of a national life, the only practical means of purifying the corrupted institutions of the state. Selfish opposition on the part of those interested in corruption was too strong for reformers, and the chance of building up a true Italian nation passed away. The working farmer had disappeared from Roman politics. The swords and the venal city mob remained, and the later literature was left to deplore the consequences. The course of agricultural decline in Greece was different in detail from that in Italy, but its evil effects on political life were early noted, at least in Attica. The rationalist Euripides saw the danger clearly, during the Peloponnesian war; and the sympathy of the conservative Aristophanes with the suffering farmers was plainly marked. The merits of the farmer-class as ‘safe’ citizens, the backbone of a wise and durable state-life, became almost a commonplace of Greek political theory. Plato and Aristotle might dream of ideal states, governed by skilled specialists professionally trained for their career from boyhood. In their more practical moments, turning from aspirations to facts of the world around them, they confessed the political value of the farmer-class. To Aristotle the best hope of making democracy a wholesome and tolerable form of government lay in the strengthening of this element: the best Demos is the γεωργικὸς δῆμος, and it is a pity that it so often becomes superseded by the growing population devoted to trades and commerce. I need not carry further these brief and imperfect outlines of the honourable opinion held of agriculture in the Greco-Roman world. As producing necessary food, as rearing hardy soldiers, as favouring the growth and maintenance of civic virtues, it was the subject of general praise. Some might confess that they shrank from personal labour on the land. Yet even in Caesarian Rome it is somewhat startling when Sallust[9] dismisses farming in a few words of cynical contempt. It is clear that the respect felt for agriculture was largely due to the opinion that valuable qualities of body and mind were closely connected with its practice and strengthened thereby. So long as it was on the primitive footing, each household finding labour for its own maintenance, the separation of handwork and direction could hardly arise. This primitive state of things, assumed by theorists ancient and modern, and depicted in tradition, had ceased to be normal in the time of our earliest records. And the employment of persons, not members of the household, as hired labourers, or of bondmen only connected with the house as dependents, at once differentiated these ‘hands’ from the master and his family. The master could not habitually hire day-labourers or keep a slave unless he found it paid him to do so. For a man to work for his own profit or for that of another were very different things. This simple truism, however, does not end the matter from my present point of view. It is necessary to ask whether the respect felt for agriculture was so extended as to include the hired labourer and the slave as well as the working master. We shall see that it was not. The house-master, holding and cultivating a plot of land on a secure tenure, is the figure glorified in traditions and legendary scenes. The Greek term αὐτουργός, the man who does his own work, is specially applied to him as a man that works with his own hands. It crops up in literature often, from Euripides to Polybius and Dion Chrysostom; and sometimes, when the word is not used, it is represented by equivalents. But both the hired labourer and the slave were employed for the express purpose of working with their own hands. And yet, so far as agriculture is concerned, I cannot find that they were credited with αὐτουργία, the connotation[10] of which is generally favourable, seldom neutral, never (I think) unfavourable. It seems then that the figure present to the mind was one who not only worked with his own hands, but worked for his own profit—that is, on his own farm. And with this interpretation the traditions of early Rome fully agree. To admit this does not however imply that the working house-master employed neither hired labourer nor slave. So long as he took a hand in the farm-work, he was a working cultivator for his own profit. The larger the scale of his holding, the more he would need extra labour. If prosperous, he would be able to increase his holding or supplement his farming[11] by other enterprises. More and more he would be tempted to drop handwork and devote himself to direction. If still successful, he might move on a stage further, living in the city and carrying on his farms by deputy, employing stewards, hired freemen or slaves, or freedmen, his former slaves. If he found in the city more remunerative pursuits than agriculture, he might sell his land and the live and dead stock thereon, and become simply an urban capitalist. So far as I know, this last step was very seldom taken; and I believe the restraining influence to have been the prestige attached to the ownership of land, even when civic franchises had ceased to depend on the possession of that form of property alone. If this view be correct, the fact is notable: for the system of great landed estates, managed by stewards[12] on behalf of wealthy owners who lived in the city, was the ruin of the peasant farmer class, in whose qualities statesmen and philosophers saw the guarantee for the state’s lasting vigour. No longer were αὐτουργοὶ a force in politics: in military service the professional soldier, idling in the intervals of wars, superseded the rustic, levied for a campaign and looking forward to the hour of returning to his plough. It was in Italy that the consummation of this change was most marked, for Rome alone provided a centre in which the great landlord could reside and influence political action in his own interest. To Rome the wealth extorted from tributary subjects flowed in an ever-swelling stream. No small part of the spoils served to enrich the noble landlords, directly or indirectly, and to supply them with the funds needed for corrupting the city mob and so controlling politics. Many could afford to hold their lands even when it was doubtful whether estates managed by slaves or hirelings were in fact a remunerative investment. If we may believe Cicero, it was financial inability[13] to continue this extravagant policy that drove some men of apparent wealth to favour revolutionary schemes. The old-fashioned farmstead, the _villa_, was modernized into a luxurious country seat, in which the owner might now and then pass a brief recess, attended by his domestic slaves from Town, and perhaps ostentatiously entertaining a party of fashionable friends. We have followed the sinister progress of what I will call the Agricultural Interest, from the ‘horny-handed’ peasant[14] farmer to the land-proud capitalist. No doubt the picture is a highly coloured one, but in its general outlines we are not entitled to question its truth. Exceptions there certainly were. In hilly parts of Italy a rustic population[15] of freemen survived, and it was from them that the jobbing gangs of wage-earners of whom we read were drawn. And in the great plain of the Po agricultural conditions remained far more satisfactory than in such districts as Etruria or Lucania, where great estates were common. A genuine farming population seems there to have held most of the land, and rustic slavery appeared in less revolting form. But these exceptions did not avail to stay the decline of rural Italy. True, as the supply of slave-labour gradually shrank in the empire, the working farmer reappeared on the land. But he reappeared as a tenant gradually becoming bound[16] to the soil, worried by the exactions of officials, or liable to a blood-tax in the shape of military service. He was becoming not a free citizen of a free state, but a half-free serf helplessly involved in a great mechanical system. Such a person bore little resemblance to the free farmer working with his own hands for himself on his own land, the rustic figure from whom we started. On the military side, he was, if a soldier, now soldier first and farmer afterwards: on the civic side, he was a mere subject-unit, whose virtues were of no political importance and commanded no respect. In the final stage we find the government recruiting its armies from barbarians and concerned to keep the farmer on the land. So cogent then was the necessity of insuring the supply of food for the empire and its armies. At this point we must return to our first question, how far the agriculture of the Greco-Roman world depended on free or slave labour. It is clear that, while the presence of the slave presupposes the freeman to control him, the presence of the freeman does not necessarily imply that of the slave. Dion Chrysostom[17] was logically justified in saying that freedom comes before slavery in order of time. And no doubt this is true so long as we only contemplate the primitive condition of households each providing for its own vital needs by the labour of its members. But the growth of what we call civilization springs from the extension of needs beyond the limits of what is absolutely necessary for human existence. By what steps the advantages of division of labour were actually discovered is a subject for the reconstructive theorist. But it must have been observed at a very early stage that one man’s labour might be to another man’s profit. Those who tamed and employed other animals were not likely to ignore the possibilities offered by the extension of the system to their brother men. It would seem the most natural thing in the world. It might be on a very small scale, and any reluctance on the bondsman’s part might be lessened by the compensations of food and protection. A powerful master might gather round him a number of such dependent beings, and he had nothing to gain by treating them cruelly. On them he could devolve the labour of producing food, and so set free his own kinsmen to assert the power of their house. In an age of conflict stronger units tended to absorb weaker, and the formation of larger societies would tend to create fresh needs, to encourage the division of labour, and to promote civilization by the process of exchange. Labour under assured control was likely to prove an economic asset of increasing value. In agriculture it would be of special importance as providing food for warriors busied with serving the community in war. This imaginative sketch may serve to remind us that there are two questions open to discussion in relation to the subject. First, the purely speculative one, whether the early stages of progress in civilization could have been passed without the help of slavery. Second, the question of fact, whether they were so passed or not. It is the latter with which I am concerned. The defects of the evidence on which we have to form an opinion are manifest. Much of it is not at first hand, and it will often be necessary to comment on its unsatisfactory character. In proceeding to set it out in detail, I must again repeat that two classes of free handworkers must be clearly kept distinct—those who work for themselves, and those who work for others. It is the latter class only that properly come into comparison with slaves. A man habitually working for himself may of course work occasionally for others as a wage-earner. But here, as in the case of the farmer-soldier, we have one person in two capacities. AUTHORITIES IN DETAIL—GREEK III. THE HOMERIC POEMS. =The Iliad.= In a great war-poem we can hardly expect to find many references to the economic labours of peace. And an army fighting far from home in a foreign land would naturally be out of touch with the rustic life of Greece. Nor was the poet concerned to offer us the details of supply-service, though he represents the commissariat as efficient. Free labour appears[18] in various forms of handicraft, and the mention of pay (μισθός)[19] shews wage-earning as a recognized fact. We hear of serving for hire (θητεύειν)[20], and the ἔριθοι or farm-labourers[21] seem to be θῆτες under a special name. That labour is not viewed as a great degradation may fairly be inferred from the case of Hephaestus the smith-god, from the wage-service of Poseidon and Apollo under Laomedon, and from the herdsman-service of Apollo under Admetus. Agriculture is assumed, and in the Catalogue ‘works’ (ἔργα)[22] occurs in the sense of ‘tilled lands.’ But it is chiefly in similes or idyllic scenes that we get glimpses of farming[23] operations. Thus we have ploughing, reaping, binding, threshing, winnowing. Most striking of all is the passage in which the work of irrigation[24] is graphically described. There is no reason to suppose that any of the workers in these scenes are slaves: they would seem to be wage-earners. But I must admit that, if slaves were employed under the free workers, the poet would very likely not mention such a detail: that is, if slavery were a normal institution taken for granted. For the present I assume only free labour in these cases. We are made aware of a clear social difference between the rich and powerful employer and the employed labourer. The mowers are at work in the field of some rich man[25] (ἀνδρὸς μάκαρος κατ’ ἄρουραν), who does not appear to lend a hand himself. Or again in the close of a ruler (τέμενος βασιλήιον)[26], with binders following them, a busy scene. The βασιλεὺς himself stands watching them in dignified silence, staff in hand. There is nothing here to suggest that the small working farmer was a typical figure in the portraiture of rural life. Flocks and herds are of great importance, indeed the ox is a normal standard of value. But the herdsmen are mean freemen. Achilles is disgusted[27] at the prospect of being drowned by Scamander ‘like a young swineherd swept away by a stream in flood.’ For the heroes of the poem are warrior-lords: the humble toilers of daily life are of no account beside them. And yet the fact of slavery stands out clearly, and also its connexion with the fact of capture in war. The normal way of dealing with enemies is to slay the men and enslave the women. The wife of a great warrior has many handmaidens, captives of her lord’s prowess. A slave-trade exists, and we hear of males being spared[28] and ‘sold abroad’: for they are sent ‘to islands far away’ or ‘beyond the salt sea.’ We do not find male slaves with the army: perhaps we may guess that they were not wanted. A single reference to δμῶες (properly slave-captives) appears in XIX 333, where Achilles, speaking of his property at home in Phthia, says κτῆσιν ἐμὴν δμῶάς τε. But we cannot be certain that these slaves are farm-hands. We can only reflect that a slave bought and paid for was not likely to be fed in idleness or put to the lightest work. In general it seems that what weighed upon the slave, male or female, was the pressure of constraint, the loss of freedom, not the fear of cruel treatment. What Hector keeps from the Trojans[29] is the ‘day of constraint,’ ἦμαρ ἀναγκαῖον, also expressed by δούλιον ἦμαρ. Viewed from the other side we find enslavement consisting in a taking away[30] the ‘day of freedom,’ ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ. The words δούλην III 409 and ἀνδραπόδεσσι VII 475 are isolated cases of substantives in passages the genuineness of which has been questioned. On the whole it is I think not an unfair guess that, if the poet had been depicting the life of this same Greek society in their homeland, and not under conditions of present war, we should have found more references to slavery as a working institution. As it is, we get a momentary glimpse[31] of neighbour landowners, evidently on a small scale, engaged in a dispute concerning their boundaries, measuring-rod in hand; and nothing to shew whether such persons supplied the whole of their own labour in tillage or supplemented it by employing hired men or slaves. =The Odyssey= is generally held to be of later date than the Iliad. A far more important distinction is that its scenes are not episodes of war. A curious difference of terms[32] is seen in the case of the word οἰκῆες, which in the Iliad seems to mean ‘house-folk’ including both free and slave, in the Odyssey to mean slaves only. But as to the condition of slaves there is practically no difference. A conquered foe was spared on the battlefield by grace of the conqueror, whose ownership of his slave was unlimited: and this unlimited right could be conveyed by sale[33] to a third party. We find Odysseus ready to consign offending slaves[34] to torture mutilation or death. In the story of his visit to Troy[35] as a spy we hear that he passed for a slave, and that part of his disguise consisted in the marks of flogging. Yet the relations of master and mistress to their slaves are most kindly in ordinary circumstances. The faithful slave is a type glorified in the Odyssey: loyalty is the first virtue of a slave, and it is disloyalty, however shewn, that justifies the master’s vengeance. For they live on intimate terms[36] with their master and mistress and are trusted to a wonderful degree. In short we may say that the social atmosphere of the Odyssey is full of mild slavery, but that in the background there is always the grim possibility of atrocities committed by absolute power. And we have a trace even of secondary[37] slavery: for the swineherd, himself a slave, has an under-slave of his own, bought with his own goods from slave-dealers while his own master was abroad. Naturally enough we find slaves classed as a part of the lord’s estate. Odysseus hopes[38] that before he dies he may set eyes on his property, his slaves and his lofty mansion. But another and perhaps socially more marked distinction seems implied in the suitors’ question[39] about Telemachus—‘who were the lads that went with him on his journey? were they young nobles of Ithaca, or his own hired men and slaves (θῆτές τε δμῶές τε)?’ The answer is that they were ‘the pick of the community, present company excepted.’ The wage-earner and the slave do not seem to be parted by any broad social line. Indeed civilization had a long road yet to travel before levelling movement among the free classes drew a vital distinction between them on the one side and slaves on the other. Free workers of various kinds are often referred to, and we are, owing to the circumstances of the story, brought more into touch with them than in the Iliad. Handicraftsmen[40] are a part of the life of the time, and we must assume the smith the carpenter and the rest of the males to be free: female slaves skilled in working wool do not justify us in supposing that the corresponding men are slaves. Beside these are other men who practise a trade useful to the community, ‘public-workers’ (δημιοεργοί)[41], but not necessarily handworkers. Thus we find the seer, the leech, the bard, classed with the carpenter as persons whom all men would readily entertain as guests; the wandering beggar none would invite. The last is a type of ‘mean freeman,’ evidently common in that society. He is too much akin to the suppliant, whom religion[42] protects, to be roughly shewn the door: he is αἰδοῖος ἀλήτης[43], and trades on the reverence felt for one who appeals as stranger to hospitable custom. Thus he picks up a living[44] from the scraps and offals of great houses. But he is despised, and, what concerns us here, despised[45] not only for his abject poverty but for his aversion to honest work. That the poet admires industry is clear, and is curiously illustrated by his contrasted pictures of civilization and barbarism. In Phaeacia are the fenced-in gardens[46] that supply Alcinous and his people with never-failing fruits: the excellence of their naval craftsmen is expressed in the ‘yarn’ of ships that navigate themselves. In the land of the Cyclopes, nature provides[47] them with corn and wine, but they neither sow nor plough. They have flocks of sheep and goats. They have no ships or men to build them. They live in caves, isolated savages with no rudiments of civil life. It is not too much to say that the poet is a believer in work and a contemner of idleness: the presence of slaves does not suggest that the free man is to be lazy. Odysseus boasts of his activities (δρηστοσύνη)[48]. He is ready to split wood and lay a fire, to prepare and serve a meal, and in short to wait on the insolent suitors as inferiors do on nobles. Of course he is still the unknown wanderer: but the contrast[49] between him and the genuine beggar Irus is an effective piece of by-play in the poem. Turning to agriculture, we may note that it fills no small place. Wheat and barley, pounded or ground to meal, seem to furnish the basis of civilized diet. The Cyclops[50] does not look like a ‘bread-eating man,’ and wine completely upsets him to his ruin. Evidently the bounty of nature has been wasted on such a savage. But the cultivation of cereal crops is rather assumed than emphasized in the pictures of Greek life. We hear of tilled lands (ἔργα)[51], and farm-labour (ἔργον)[52] is mentioned as too wearisome for a high-spirited warrior noble. The tired and hungry plowman[53] appears in a simile. But the favourite culture is that of the vine and olive and other fruits in orchards carefully fenced and tended. One of the suitors makes a jesting offer[54] to the unknown Odysseus ‘Stranger, would you be willing to serve for hire (θητευέμεν), if I took you on, in an outlying field—you shall have a sufficient wage—gathering stuff for fences and planting tall trees? I would see that you were regularly fed clothed and shod. No, you are a ne’er-do-weel (ἔργα κάκ’ ἔμμαθες) and will not do farm-work (ἔργον): you prefer to go round cringing for food to fill your insatiate belly.’ This scornful proposal sets the noble’s contempt for wage-earning labour in a clear light. And the shade of Achilles, repudiating[55] the suggestion that it is a great thing to be a ruler among the dead in the ghostly world, says ‘I had rather be one bound to the soil, serving another for hire, employed by some landless man of little property, than be king of all the dead.’ He is speaking strongly: to work for hire, a mean destiny at best, is at its meanest when the employer is a man with no land-lot of his own (ἄκληρος), presumably occupying on precarious tenure a bit of some lord’s estate. After such utterances we cannot wonder that as we saw above, θῆτες and δμῶες are mentioned[56] in the same breath. That slaves are employed on the farm is clear enough. When Penelope sends for old Dolius[57], a _servus dotalis_ of hers (to use the Roman expression) she adds ‘who is in charge of my fruit-garden,’ So too the aged Laertes, living a hard life on his farm, has a staff of slaves[58] to do his will, and their quarters and farm duties are a marked detail of the picture. The old man, in dirty rags like a slave, is a contrast[59] to the garden, in which every plant and tree attests the devoted toil of his gardeners under his own skilled direction. Odysseus, as yet unrecognized by his father, asks him how he comes to be in such a mean attire, though under it he has the look of a king. Then he drops this tone and says ‘but tell me, whose slave[60] are you, and who owns the orchard you are tending?’ The hero knows his father, but to preserve for the present his own incognito he addresses him as the slave that he appears to be. Now if garden work was done by slaves, surely the rougher operations of corn-growing were not confined to free labour, and slaves pass unmentioned as a matter of course. Or are we to suppose that free labour had been found more economical in the long run, and so was employed for the production of a staple food? I can hardly venture to attribute so mature a view to the society of the Odyssey. We must not forget that animal food, flesh and milk, was an important element of diet, and that the management of flocks and herds was therefore a great part of rustic economy. But the herdsmen in charge are slaves, such as Eumaeus, bought in his youth by Laertes[61] of Phoenician kidnappers. In romancing about his own past experiences Odysseus describes a raid in Egypt, and how the natives rallied[62] and took their revenge. ‘Many of our company they slew: others they took alive into the country, to serve them in forced labour.’ As the ravaging of their ‘beautiful farms’ was a chief part of the raiders’ offence, the labour exacted from these captives seems most probably agricultural. An interesting question arises in reference to the faithful slaves, the swineherd and the goatherd. When Odysseus promises them rewards in the event of his destroying the suitors with their help, does this include an offer of freedom? Have we here, as some have thought, a case of manumission—of course in primitive form, without the legal refinements of later times? The promise is made[63] so to speak in the character of a father-in-law: ‘I will provide you both with wives and give you possessions and well-built houses near to me, and you shall in future be to me comrades and brothers of Telemachus.’ The ‘brotherhood’ suggested sounds as if it must imply freedom. But does it? Eumaeus had been brought up[64] by Laertes as the playmate of his daughter Ctimene; yet he remained nevertheless a slave. Earlier in the poem Eumaeus, excusing the poor entertainment that he can offer the stranger (Odysseus), laments the absence[65] of his lord, ‘who’ he says ‘would have shewn me hearty affection and given me possessions such as a kindly lord gives his slave (οἰκῆι), a house and a land-lot (κλῆρον) and a wife of recognized worth (πολυμνήστην), as a reward for laborious and profitable service.’ Here also there is no direct reference to an expected grant of freedom: nor do I think that it is indirectly implied. It is no doubt tempting to detect in these passages the germ of the later manumission. But it is not easy to say why, in a world of little groups ruled by noble chiefs, the gift of freedom should have been a longed-for boon. However high-born the slave might have been in his native land, in Ithaca he was simply a slave. If by belonging to a lord he got material comfort and protection, what had he to gain by becoming a mere wage-earner? surely nothing. I can see no ground for believing that in the society of the ‘heroic’ age the bare name of freedom was greatly coveted. It was high birth that really mattered, but the effect of this would be local: nothing would make Eumaeus, though son of a king, noble in Ithaca. No doubt the slave might be at the mercy of a cruel lord. Such a slave would long for freedom, but such a lord was not likely to grant it. On the whole, it is rash to read manumission into the poet’s words. Reviewing the evidence presented by these ‘Homeric’ poems, it may be well to insist on the obvious truism that we are not dealing with formal treatises, charged with precise definitions and accurate statistics. The information given by the poet drops out incidentally while he is telling his tale and making his characters live. It is all the more genuine because it is not furnished in support of a particular argument: but it is at the same time all the less complete. And it is not possible to say how far this or that detail may have been coloured by imagination. Still, allowing freely for the difficulty suggested by these considerations, I think we are justified in drawing a general inference as to the position of handworkers, particularly on the land, in Greek ‘heroic’ society as conceived by the poet. If the men who practise handicrafts are freemen, and their presence welcome, this does not exalt them to anything like equality with the warrior nobles and chiefs. And in agriculture the labourer is either a slave or a wage-earner of a very dependent kind. The lord shews no inclination to set his own hand to the plough. When one of the suitors derisively invites the supposed beggar to abandon his idle vagrancy for a wage-earning ‘job on the land,’ the disguised Odysseus retorts[66] ‘Ah, if only you and I could compete in a match as reapers hard at work fasting from dawn to dark, or at ploughing a big field with a pair of full-fed spirited oxen,—you would soon see what I could do.’ He adds that, if it came to war, his prowess would soon silence the sneer at his begging for food instead of working. Now, does the hero imply that he would really be willing to reap or plough? I do not think so: what he means is that he is conscious of that reserve of bodily strength which appears later in the poem, dramatically shewn in the bending of the famous bow. IV. HESIOD. =Hesiod, Works and Days.= Whether this curious poem belongs in its present shape to the seventh century BC, or not, I need not attempt to decide. It seems certain that it is later than the great Homeric poems, but is an early work, perhaps somewhat recast and interpolated, yet in its main features representing conditions and views of a society rural, half-primitive, aristocratic. I see no reason to doubt that it may fairly be cited in evidence for my present purpose. The scene of the ‘Works’ is in Boeotia: the works (ἔργα) are operations of farming, and the precepts chiefly saws of rustic wisdom. Poverty[67] is the grim spectre that haunts the writer, conscious of the oppressions of the proud and the hardness of a greedy world. Debt, want, beggary, must be avoided at all costs. They can only be avoided[68] by thrift, forethought, watchfulness, promptitude that never procrastinates, and toil that never ceases. And the mere appeal to self-interest is reinforced by recognizing the stimulus of competition (ἔρις)[69] which in the form of honest rivalry is a good influence. The poet represents himself as owner of a land-lot (κλῆρος)[70], part of a larger estate, the joint patrimony of his brother Perses and himself: this estate has already been divided, but points of dispute still remain. Hesiod suggests that Perses has been wronging him with the help of bribed ‘kings.’ But wrongdoing is not the true road to wellbeing. A dinner of herbs and a clear conscience are the better way. As the proverb says ‘half is more than the whole.’ Perses is treated to much good advice, the gist of which is first and foremost an exhortation[71] to work (ἐργάζευ), that is, work on the land, in which is the source of honourable wealth. Personal labour is clearly meant: it is in the sweat[72] of his brow that the farmer is to thrive. Such is the ordinance of the gods. Man is meant to resemble[73] the worker bee, not the worthless drone. It is not ἔργον but idleness (ἀεργίη) that is a reproach. Get wealth[74] by working, and the idler will want to rival you: honour and glory attend on wealth. Avoid delays[75] and vain talk: the procrastinator is never sure of a living; for he is always hoping, when he should act. Whether sowing or ploughing or mowing, off with your outer[76] garment, if you mean to get your farm-duties done in due season. The farmer must rise early, and never get behindhand with his work: to be in time, and never caught napping by changes of weather, is his duty. Here is a picture of humble and strenuous life, very different from the scenes portrayed in the ‘heroic’ epics. It seems to belong to a later and less warlike age. But the economic and social side of life is in many respects little changed. The free handicraftsmen seem much the same. Jealousy of rivals[77] in the same trade—potter, carpenter, beggar, or bard—is a touch that attests their freedom. The smith, the weaver, the shoemaker, and the shipwright, are mentioned[78] also. Seafaring[79] for purposes of gain illustrates what men will dare in quest of wealth. You should not cast a man’s poverty[80] in his teeth: but do not fancy that men will give you[81] of their store, if you and your family fall into poverty. Clearly the beggar is not more welcome than he was in the world of the Odyssey. Suppliant and stranger are protected[82] by religion, and a man should honour his aged father, if he would see good days. A motive suggested for careful service of the gods is ‘that you may buy another’s estate[83] and not another buy yours’—that is, that the gods may give you increase. Just so you should keep a watch-dog, that thieves[84] may not steal your goods by night. Hesiod’s farmer is to keep the social and religious rules and usages—but he is before all things a keen man of business, no Roman more so. The labour employed by this close-fisted countryman is partly free partly slave. In a passage[85] of which the exact rendering is disputed the hired man (θῆτα) and woman (ἔριθον) are mentioned as a matter of course. For a helper (ἀνδρὶ φίλῳ)[86] his wage must be secure (ἄρκιος) as stipulated. References to slaves (δμῶες)[87] are more frequent, and the need of constant watchfulness, to see that they are not lazy and are properly fed housed and rested, is insisted on. The feeding of cattle and slaves is regulated according to their requirements in different seasons of the year: efficiency is the object, and evidently experience is the guide. Of female slaves there is no certain[88] mention: indeed there could be little demand for domestic attendants in the farmer’s simple home. Such work as weaving[89] is to be done by his wife. For the farmer is to marry, though the risks[90] of that venture are not hidden from the poet, who gives plain warnings as to the exercise of extreme care in making a suitable choice. The operations of agriculture are the usual ploughing sowing reaping threshing and the processes of the vineyard and the winepress. Oxen sheep and mules form the live-stock. Corn is the staple[91] diet, with hay as fodder for beasts. Looking on the picture as a whole, we see that the Hesiodic farmer is to be a model of industry and thrift. Business, not sentiment, is the note of his character. His function is to survive in his actual circumstances; that is, in a social and economic environment of normal selfishness. If his world is not a very noble one, it is at least eminently practical. He is a true αὐτουργός, setting his own hand to the plough, toiling for himself on his own land, with slaves and other cattle obedient to his will. It is perhaps not too much to say that he illustrates a great truth bearing on the labour-question,—that successful exploitation of other men’s labour is, at least in semi-primitive societies, only to be achieved by the man who shares the labour himself. And it is to be noted that he attests the existence of wage-earning hands as well as slaves. I take this to mean that there were in his rustic world a number of landless freemen compelled to make a living as mere farm labourers. That we hear so much less of this class in later times is probably to be accounted for by the growth of cities and the absorption of such persons in urban occupations and trades. V. STRAY NOTES FROM EARLY POETS. A few fragments may be cited as of interest, bearing on our subject. The most important are found in the remains[92] of Solon, illustrating the land-question as he saw and faced it at the beginning of the sixth century BC. The poets of the seventh and sixth centuries reflect the problems of an age of unrest, among the causes of which the introduction of metallic coinage, susceptible of hoarding and unaffected by weather, played a great part. Poverty, debt and slavery of debtors, hardship, begging, the insolence and oppression of rich and greedy creditors, are common topics. The sale of free men into slavery abroad is lamented by Solon, who claims to have restored many such victims by his measures of reform. In particular, he removed encumbrances on land, thus setting free the small farmers who were in desperate plight owing to debt. The exact nature and scope of his famous reform is a matter of dispute. Whether he relieved freeholders from a burden of debt, or emancipated the clients[93] of landowning nobles from dependence closely akin to serfdom, cannot be discussed here, and does not really bear on the matter in hand. In either case the persons relieved were a class of working farmers, and the economic reform was the main thing: political reform was of value as tending to secure the economic boon. It is remarkable that Solon, enumerating a number of trades (practically the old Homeric and Hesiodic list), speaks of them merely as means of escaping the pressure of poverty, adding ‘and another man[94] is yearly servant to those interested in ploughing, and furrows land planted with fruit-trees.’ This man seems to be a wage-earner (θὴς) working for a large farmer, probably the owner of a landed estate in the rich lowland (πεδιάς) of Attica. The small farmers were mostly confined to the rocky uplands. Evidently it is not manual labour that is the hardship, but the dependent position of the hired man working on another’s land. The hard-working independent peasant, willing to till stony land for his own support, is the type that Solon encouraged and Peisistratus[95] approved. The life of such peasant farmers was at best a hard one, and little desired by men living under easier conditions. Two fragments from Ionia express views of dwellers in that rich and genial land. =Phocylides= of Miletus in one of his wise counsels says ‘if you desire wealth, devote your care to a fat farm (πίονος ἀγροῦ), for the saying is that a farm is a horn of plenty.’ The bitter =Hipponax= of Ephesus describes a man as having lived a gluttonous life and so eaten up his estate (τὸν κλῆρον): the result is that he is driven to dig a rocky hillside and live on common figs and barley bread—mere slave’s fodder (δούλιον χόρτον). Surely the ‘fat farm’ was not meant to be worked by the owner singlehanded; and the ‘slave’s fodder’ suggests the employment of slaves. Ionia was a home of luxury and ease. The oft-quoted scolion of the Cretan =Hybrias= illustrates the point of view of the warrior class in more military communities. His wealth is in sword spear and buckler. It is with these tools that he does his ploughing reaping or vintage. That is, he has command of the labour of others, and enjoys their produce. We shall speak below of the well-known lords and serfs of Crete. VI. TRACES OF SERFDOM IN GREEK STATES. Before passing on to the times in which the merits of a free farmer-class, from military and political points of view, became a matter of general and conscious consideration, it is desirable to refer briefly to the recorded cases of agricultural serfdom in Greek states. For the rustic serf is a type quite distinct from the free farmer, the hired labourer, or the slave; though the language of some writers is loose, and does not clearly mark the distinction. Six well-known cases present themselves, in connexion with Sparta, Crete, Argos, Thessaly, Syracuse, and Heraclea on the Pontus. Into the details of these systems it is not necessary to enter, interesting though many of them are. The important feature common to them all is the delegation of agricultural labour. A stronger or better-organized people become masters of a weaker population, conquering their country by force of arms, and sparing the conquered on certain terms. The normal effect of the compact is that the conquerors are established as a ruling warrior class, whose subsistence is provided by the labour of the subject people. These subjects remain on the land as farmers, paying a fixed quota of their produce to their masters. Some are serfs of the state, and pay their dues to the state authorities: some are serfs of individuals, and pay to their lords. In either case they are strictly attached to the land, and cannot be sold out of the country. This clearly marks off the serf from the slave held in personal bondage. In some cases certainly, probably in all, the warrior class (at least the wealthier of them) had also slaves for their own personal service. The serf-system differs from a caste-system. Both, it is true, are hereditary systems, or have a strong tendency to become so. The ruling class do not easily admit deserving subjects into their own ranks. And they take precautions to hinder the degradation of their equals into lower conditions through poverty. The warrior’s land-lot (κλᾶρος), the sale of which is forbidden, is a favourite institution for the purpose. That such warrior aristocracies could not be kept up in vigour for an indefinite time, was to be proved by experience. Their duration depended on external as well as internal conditions. Hostile invasion might destroy the efficiency of state regulations, however well adapted to keep the serfs under control. Sparta always feared her Helots, and it was essential to keep an enemy out of Laconia. Early in the history of Syracuse the unprivileged masses were supported by the serfs in their rising against the squatter-lords, the γαμόροι whose great estates represented the allotments of the original settlers. In Crete and Thessaly matters were complicated by lack of a central authority. There were a number of cities: subordination and cooperation were alike hard to secure, and the history of both groups is a story of jealousy, collisions, and weakness. The Thessalian Penestae often rebelled. The two classes of Cretan[96] serfs (public and private) were kept quiet partly by rigid exclusion from all training of a military kind, partly by their more favourable condition: but the insular position of Crete was perhaps a factor of equal importance. The long control of indigenous barbarian serfs by the city of Heraclea was probably the result of similar causes. But in all these cases it is conquest that produces the relation between the tiller of the soil and his overlord. Whether the serf is regarded as a weaker Greek or as a Barbarian (non-Greek) is not at present the main question from my point of view. The notion of castes, belonging to the same society and influenced by the same racial and religious traditions, but each performing a distinct function—priestly military agricultural etc.—as in ancient India, is another thing altogether. Caste separates functions, but the division is in essence collateral. Serfdom is a delegation of functions, and is a compulsory subordination. That the Greeks of the seventh and sixth centuries BC were already becoming conscious of a vital difference between other races and themselves, is fairly certain. It was soon to express itself in the common language. Contact with Persia was soon to crystallize this feeling into a moral antipathy, a disgust and contempt that found voice in the arrogant claim that while nature’s law justifies the ruling of servile Barbarians by free Greeks, a reversal of the relation is an unnatural monstrosity. Yet I cannot discover that Greeks ever gave up enslaving brother Greeks. Callicratidas in the field and Plato in his school might protest against the practice; it still remained the custom in war to sell as slaves those, Greek or Barbarian, whom the sword had spared. We shall also find cases in which the remnant of the conquered were left in their homes but reduced to the condition of cultivating serfs. Among the little that is known of the ancient Etruscans, whose power was once widely extended in Italy, is the fact that they dwelt in cities and ruled a serf population who lived chiefly in the country. The ruling race were apparently invaders not akin to any of the Italian stocks: their subjects probably belonged to the old Ligurian race, in early times spread over a large part of the peninsula. That the Etruscan cities recognized a common interest, but in practice did not support each other consistently, was the chief cause of their gradual weakening and final fall. Noble lords with warlike traditions had little bent for farm life or sympathy with the serfs who tilled the soil. The two classes seem to have kept to their own[97] languages, and the Etruscan gradually died out under the supremacy of Rome. VII. HERODOTUS. =Herodotus=, writing in the first half of the fifth century BC, partly recording the results of his own travels, partly dependent on the work of his predecessors, is a witness of great value. In him we find the contrast and antipathy[98] of Greek and Barbarian an acknowledged fact, guiding and dominating Greek sentiment. Unhappily he yields us very little evidence bearing on the present subject. To slavery and slave-trade he often refers without comment: these are matters of course. The servile character of oriental peoples subject to Persia is contemptuously described[99] through the mouth of the Greek queen of Halicarnassus. Nor does he spare the Ionian Greeks, whose jealousies and consequent inefficiency made them the unworthy tools of Persian ambition; a sad contrast to those patriotic Greeks of old Hellas who, fired by the grand example of Athens, fought for their freedom and won it in the face of terrible odds. The disgust—a sort of physical loathing—with which the free Greek, proud of training his body to perfection, regarded corporal mutilation as practised in the East, is illustrated by such passages[100] as that in which the Persians are astounded at the Greek athletic competitions for a wreath of olive leaves, and that in which he coolly tells the story of the eunuch’s revenge. But all this, interesting as giving us his point of view, does not help us in clearing up the relations of free and slave labour. As for handicrafts, it is enough to refer to the well-known passage[101] in which, while speaking of Egypt, he will not decide whether the Greeks got their contempt for manual trades from the Egyptians or not. That the Greeks, above all the Spartans, do despise χειρωναξίαι, is certain; but least true of the Corinthians. Barbarians in general respect the warrior class among their own folk and regard manual trades as ignoble. So the source of Greek prejudice is doubtful. That the craftsmen are free is clear from the whole context. It is remarkable that in enumerating seven classes of the Egyptian population he mentions no class[102] as devoted to the tillage of the soil, but two of herdsmen, in charge of cattle and swine. Later authorities mention[103] the γεωργοί, and connect them with the military class, rightly, it would seem: for Herodotus[104] refers to the farms granted by the kings to this class. They are farmer-soldiers. It would seem that they were free, so far as any Egyptian could be called free, and worked their land themselves. If this inference be just, we may observe that a Greek thought it a fact worth noting. Was this owing to the contrast[105] offered by systems of serfage in the Greek world? It is curious that wage-labour is hardly ever directly mentioned. In describing[106] the origin of the Macedonian kings, who claimed descent from an Argive stock, he says that three brothers, exiles from Argos, came to Macedon. There they served the king for wages as herdsmen in charge of his horses cattle sheep and goats. The simplicity of the royal household is emphasized as illustrating the humble scale of ancient monarchies. Alarmed by a prodigy, the king calls his servants (τοὺς θῆτας) and tells them to leave his country. The sequel does not concern us here: we need only note that work for wages is referred to as a matter of course. The same relation is probably meant in the case of the Arcadian deserters[107] who came to Xerxes after Thermopylae, in need of sustenance (βίου) and wishing to get work (ἐνεργοὶ εἶναι). But the term θητεύειν is not used. And the few Athenians who stayed behind[108] in the Acropolis when Athens was evacuated, partly through sheer poverty (ὑπ’ ἀσθενείης βίου), would seem to be θῆτες. It is fair to infer that hired labour is assumed as a normal fact in Greek life. For the insistence on poverty[109] as naturally endemic (σύντροφος) in Hellas, only overcome by the manly qualities (ἀρετὴ) developed in the conquest of hard conditions by human resourcefulness (σοφίη), shews us the background of the picture present to the writer’s mind. It is his way of telling us that the question of food-supply was a serious one. Out of her own soil Hellas was only able to support a thin population. Hence Greek forces were absurdly small compared with the myriads of Persia: but the struggle for existence had strung them up to such efficiency and resolute love of freedom that they were ready to face fearful odds. The passage occurs in the reply of Demaratus the Spartan to a question of Xerxes, and refers more particularly to Sparta. In respect of courage and military efficiency the claim is appropriate: but poverty was surely characteristic of nearly all the European Hellas, and the language on that point is strictly correct, probably representing the writer’s own view. It is also quite consistent with the statement[110] that in early times, before the Athenians had as yet driven all the indigenous population out of Attica, neither the Athenians nor the Greeks generally had slaves (οἰκέτας). The context seems to indicate that domestic slaves are specially meant. I do not lay much stress on this allegation, urged as it is in support of a case by one party to the dispute: but it is a genuine tradition, which appears again in the later literature. In the time of Herodotus there were plenty of domestic slaves. Accordingly he finds it worth while to mention[111] that Scythian kings are attended by persons of their own race, there being no bought servants employed. Herodotus is a difficult witness to appraise justly, partly from the occasional uncertainty as to whether he is really pledging his own authority on a point, partly because the value of his authority varies greatly on different points. But on the whole I take his evidence to suggest that agriculture was carried on in Greece either by free labouring farmers employing hired men when needed, or by serfs. I do not see any evidence to shew that no slaves were employed. The subject of his book placed him under no necessity of mentioning them: and I can hardly believe that farm-slavery on a small scale had died out all over Greece since the days of Hesiod. Nor do I feel convinced on his authority that the poverty of Greece was, so far as mere food is concerned, as extreme as he makes Demaratus represent it. When the Spartans heard that Xerxes was offering the Athenians a separate peace, they were uneasy, and sent a counter-offer[112] on their own behalf. Not content with appealing to the Hellenic patriotism of Athens, they said ‘We feel for you in your loss of two crops and the distress that will last some while yet. But you shall have all this made good. We, Spartans and confederates, will find food for your wives and your helpless families[113] so long as this war lasts.’ Supposing this offer to have been actually made, and to have been capable of execution, surely it implies that there were food-stuffs to spare in the Peloponnese. It may be that I am making too much of this passage, and of the one about poverty. The dramatic touch of Herodotus is present in both, and I must leave the apparent inconsistency between them as it stands. The question of Peloponnesian agriculture will come up again in connexion with a passage of Thucydides. VIII. THE TRAGEDIANS. The lives of =Aeschylus= (died 456 BC) =Sophocles= and =Euripides= (both died 406 BC) cover a period of stirring events in the history of Greece, particularly of Athens. =Aeschylus= had borne his part in the Persian wars: he was a fighting man when Herodotus was born, and Sophocles a boy. Euripides saw the rise of Athenian power to its greatest height, and died with Sophocles on the eve of its fall. These men had seen strange and terrible things. Hellas had only beaten off the Persian to ruin herself by her own internecine conflicts. While the hatred and contempt for ‘barbarians’ grew from sentiment into something very like a moral principle, Greeks butchered or enslaved brother Greeks on an unprecedented scale. Greek lands were laid waste by Greek armies: the devastation of Attica in particular had serious effects on the politics and policy of Athens. Athens at length lost her control of the Euxine corn trade and was starved out. For the moment a decision was reached: the reactionary rural powers, backed by the commercial jealousy of Corinth, had triumphed. No thoughtful man in Athens during the time when the rustic population were crowded into the city, idle and plagued with sickness, could be indifferent to the strain on democratic institutions. This spectacle suggested reflexions that permanently influenced Greek thought on political subjects. The tendency was to accept democracy in some form and degree as inevitable in most states, and to seek salvation in means of checking the foolish extravagancies of mob-rule. The best of these means was the encouragement of farmer-citizens: but the circumstances of Greek history made practical success on these lines impossible. In practice, oligarchy meant privilege, to which a scattered farming population would submit; democracy meant mob-rule sooner or later, and the dominance of urban interests. The problem which Plato and Aristotle could not solve was already present in the latter part of the Peloponnesian war. Aristophanes might ridicule Euripides, but on the country-and-town issue the two were agreed. =Aeschylus= indeed furnishes very little to my purpose directly. The Greek antipathy to the Barbarian is very clearly marked; but the only points worth noting are that in the _Persae_[114] he makes Persian speakers refer to their own people as βάρβαροι, and that in a bitter passage of the _Eumenides_ he expresses[115] his loathing of mutilations and tortures, referring no doubt to Persian cruelties. Agriculture can hardly be said to be mentioned at all, for the gift of weather-wisdom[116] is useful to others than the farmer, and the Scythian steppes are untilled land. A fragment, telling of a happy land[117] where all things grow in plenty unsown without ploughing or digging, reminds us of the Odyssey, minus the savages: another, referring to the advance made in domestication of beasts to relieve men of toil, make up the meagre list. All are in connexion with Prometheus. There are two interesting passages[118] in which the word γαμόρος (landholder) occurs, but merely as an expression for a man with the rights and responsibilities of a citizen. There is nothing of tillage. It was natural for the champion of the power of the Areopagus to view the citizen from the landholding side. He is a respecter of authority, but at the same time lays great stress on the duty and importance of deference to public opinion. This tone runs through the surviving plays, wherever the scene of a particular drama may be laid. Athenian conditions are always in his mind, and his final judgment appears in the _Eumenides_ as an appeal to all true citizens to combine freedom with order. Ties of blood, community of religious observances, the relation between citizens and aliens, are topics on which he dwells again and again. In general it is fair to conclude that, while he cheerfully accepted the free constitution of Athens as it stood since the democratic reform of Cleisthenes, he thought that it was quite democratic enough, and regarded more recent tendencies with some alarm. Now these tendencies, in particular the reforms of Ephialtes and Pericles, were certainly in the direction of lessening the influence of the Attic farmers and increasing that of the urban citizens, who were on the spot to take advantage of them. To put it in the briefest form, Aeschylus must be reckoned an admirer of the solid and responsible citizens of the old school, men with a stake in the country. =Sophocles= also supplies very little. The antipathy of Greeks to Barbarians appears in a milder form: Aeschylus was naturally more bitter, having fought against the Persian invader. The doctrine that public opinion (of citizens) ought to be respected, that obedience to constituted authorities is a duty, in short the principle that freedom should be combined with order, is set forth in various passages of dramatic debate. Yet the scenes of the plays, as those of Aeschylus, are laid in legendary ages that knew not democracy. The awful potency of ties of blood, and the relations of citizen and alien, are topics common to both. But I think it may fairly be said that political feeling is less evident in Sophocles. This is consistent with his traditional character. In their attitude towards slavery there is no striking difference: both treat it as a matter of course. But in Sophocles there are already signs[119] of the questioning that was soon to become outspoken, as to the justice of the relation of master and slave. Agriculture is hardly mentioned. The words γεωργός, γεωργεῖν, γεωργία, are (as in Aeschylus) not used. A reference to ploughing occurs in a famous passage[120] celebrating the resourcefulness of Man. The herdsman, usually a slave, is once[121] spoken of as perhaps a hired servant. One curious passage[122] calls for notice. In the _Trachiniae_ the indifference of Heracles to his children is compared by his wife Deianira to the conduct of a farmer (γῄτης) who has got a farm at a distance (ἄρουραν ἔκτοπον) and only visits it at seed-time and harvest. The man is apparently a non-resident landowner, living presumably in the city (surely Athens is in the poet’s mind) and working his farm by deputy—a steward—and only inspecting it at important seasons. Whether the labour employed is slave or free, there is nothing to shew. It is of interest to find the situation sufficiently real to be used in a simile. But I infer that the situation, like the conduct of Heracles, is regarded as exceptional. =Euripides= takes us into a very different atmosphere. An age of movement was also an age of criticism and inquiry, social religious political ethical. The intellectual leaders came from various parts of the Greek world, but the intellectual centre of ‘obstinate questionings’ was Athens, and their poet Euripides. The use of drama, with plots drawn from ancient legend, as a vehicle for reflexions on human problems, addressed to a contemporary audience and certain to evoke assent and dissent, is the regular practice of Euripides. His plays give us a mass of information as to the questions exercising the minds of thoughtful men in a stirring period. The point of view is that of the new school, the enlightened ‘thinkers’ who claimed the right to challenge traditional principles, opinions, prejudices, and institutions, testing them by the canons of human reason fearlessly applied. This attitude was naturally resented by men of the old school, averse to any disturbing influence tending to undermine the traditional morality, and certain to react upon politics. Their opposition can still be traced in the comedies of Aristophanes and in various political movements during the Peloponnesian war. Among the topics to which the new school turned their attention were two of special interest to Euripides. The power of wealth was shewing itself in the growth of capitalistic enterprise, an illustration of which is seen in the case of the rich slaveowner Nicias. Poverty[123] and its disadvantages, sometimes amounting to sheer degradation, was as ever a subject of discontent: and this was closely connected with the position of free wage-earning labour. At Athens political action took a strong line in the direction of utilizing the wealth of the rich in the service of the state: for the poor, its dominant tendency was to provide opportunities of drawing state pay (μισθός), generally a bare living wage, for the performance of various public duties. The other topic, that of slavery, had as yet hardly reached the stage of questioning the right or wrong of that institution as such. But the consciousness that the slave, like his master, was a blend of human virtues and human vices,—was a man, in short,—was evidently becoming clearer, and suggesting the conclusion that he must be judged as a man and not as a mere chattel. Otherwise Euripides would hardly have ventured to bring slaves on the stage[124] in so sympathetic a spirit, or to utter numerous sayings, bearing on their merits and failings, in a tone of broad humanity. In such circumstances how came it that there was no sign of a movement analogous to modern Abolitionism? If the slave was confessedly a man, had he not the rights of a man? The answer is plain. That a man, simply as a man, had any rights, was a doctrine not yet formulated or clearly conceived. The antipathy[125] between Greek and Barbarian was a practical bar to its recognition. The Persian was not likely to moderate his treatment of Greeks in his power from any such consideration: superior force, nothing less, would induce him to conform to Greek notions of humanity. While force was recognized as the sole foundation of right as against free enemies, there could not be much serious doubt as to the right of holding aliens in slavery. But in this questioning age another theoretical basis of discussion had been found. Men were testing institutions by asking in reference to each ‘is it a natural[126] growth? does it exist by nature (φύσει)? or is it a conventional status? does it exist by law (νόμῳ)?’ Here was one of the most unsettling inquiries of the period. In reference to slavery we find two conflicting doctrines beginning to emerge. One is[127] that all men are born free (φύσει) and that slavery is therefore a creation of man’s device (νόμῳ). The other is that superior strength is a gift of nature, and therefore the rule of the weaker[128] by the stronger is according to nature. The conflict between these two views was destined to engage some of the greatest minds of Greece in later years, when the political failure of the Greek states had diverted men’s thoughts to problems concerning the individual. For the present slavery was taken for granted, but it is evident that the seeds of future doubt had been sown. Among the stray utterances betraying uneasiness is the oft-quoted saying[129] of the sophist Alcidamas ‘god leaves all men free: nature makes no man a slave.’ The speaker was contemporary with Euripides, whose sayings are often in much the same tone, if less direct. A remarkable passage is that in which he makes Heracles repudiate[130] the myths that represent slavery as existing among the gods. No god that is a real god has any needs, and such tales are rubbish—an argument that was destined to reappear later as bearing upon slavery among men, particularly in connexion with the principles of the Cynic school. I have said enough as to the point of view from which the questioners, such as Euripides, regarded slavery. It is somewhat surprising that the poet’s references to hired labour[131] are very few, and all of a depressing kind, treating θητεύειν as almost or quite equivalent to δουλεύειν. The references or allusions to handicrafts are hardly to the point: such men are doubtless conceived as θῆτες, but they would generally direct themselves in virtue of their trade-skill: they are not hired ‘hands.’ Herdsmen often appear, but generally if not always they seem to be slaves or serfs. Nor is it clear that the digger (σκαφεύς) is free; he is referred to[132] as a specimen of the meanest class of labourer. But in three of the plays there occur passages directly descriptive of the poor working farmer, the αὐτουργὸς of whom I have spoken above. In the _Electra_, the prologue is put in the mouth of the poor but well-born αὐτουργὸς to whom the crafty Aegisthus has given Electra in marriage. The scene between husband and wife is one of peculiar delicacy and interest. The points that concern us here are these. The princess has been united[133] to a poor and powerless freeman. He is fully occupied[134] with the hard labour of his farm, which he apparently cultivates singlehanded. He understands the motive of Aegisthus, and shews his respect for Electra by refraining from conjugal rights. She in turn respects his nobility, and shews her appreciation by cheerfully performing[135] the humble duties of a cottar’s wife. When the breadwinner (ἐργάτης) comes home from toil, he should find all ready for his comfort. He is shocked to see her, a lady of gentle breeding (εὖ τεθραμμένη) fetch water from the spring and wait upon his needs. But he has to accept the situation: the morrow’s dawn[136] shall see him at his labour on the land: it is all very well to pray for divine aid, but to get a living the first thing needful is to work. Now here we have a picture of the free farmer on a small scale, who lives in a hovel and depends on the labour of his own hands. He is the ancient analogue of the French peasant, who works harder than any slave, and whose views are apt to be limited by the circumstances of his daily life. He has no slaves[137]. Again, the Theban herald in the _Supplices_[138], speaking of the incapacity of a Demos for the function of government, says ‘but a poor husbandman (γαπόνος ἀνὴρ πένης), even if not stupid, will be too busy to attend to state affairs.’ Here is our toiling rustic, the ideal citizen of statesmen who desire to keep free from popular control. The same character appears again in the _Orestes_, on the occasion of a debate in the Argive Assembly (modelled on Athens), as defender of Orestes. He is described[139] as ‘not of graceful mien, but a manly fellow, one who seldom visits the city and the market-place, a toiler with his hands (αὐτουργός), of the class on whom alone the safety of the country depends; but intelligent and prepared to face the conflict of debate, a guileless being of blameless life.’ So vivid is this portrait, that the sympathy of the poet with the rustic type of citizen can hardly be ignored. Now, why did Euripides take pains to shew this sympathy? I take it to be a sign that he saw with regret the declining influence of the farmer class in Attic politics. Can we go a step further, and detect in these passages any sort of protest against a decline in the number of small working farmers, and a growth of exploitation-farming, carried on by stewards directing the labour of slaves or hired hands? In the next generation we find this system in use, as indeed it most likely always had been to some extent on the richer soils of lowland Attica. The concentration of the country folk in the city during the great war would tend to promote agriculture by deputy after the return of peace. Deaths, and the diversion of some farmers to other pursuits, were likely to leave vacancies in the rural demes. Speculators who took advantage of such chances to buy land would not as a rule do so with intent to live on the land and work it themselves; and aliens were not allowed to hold real estate. It seems fairly certain that landlords resident in Athens, to whom land was only one of many forms of investment, and who either let their land to tenant-farmers or exploited its cultivation under stewards, were a class increased considerably by the effects of the war. We shall see further reasons below for believing this. Whether Euripides in the passages cited above is actually warning or protesting, I do not venture to say: that he grasped the significance of a movement beginning under his very eyes, is surely a probable conjecture. That we should hear little of the employment of slaves in the hard work of agriculture, even if the practice were common, is not to be wondered at. Assuming the existence of slavery, there was no need for any writer other than a specialist to refer to them. But we have in the _Rhesus_ a passage[140] in which Hector forecasts the result of an attack on the Greeks while embarking: some of them will be slain, and the rest, captured and made fast in bonds, will be taught to cultivate (γαπονεῖν) the fields of the Phrygians. That this use of captives is nothing extraordinary appears below, when Dolon the spy is bargaining for a reward in case of success. To a suggestion that one of the Greek chiefs should be assigned to him he replies ‘No, hands gently nurtured (εὖ ’τεθραμμέναι)[141] are unfit for farm-work (γεωργεῖν).’ The notion of captive Greeks slaving on the land for Asiatic lords is a touch meant to be provocative of patriotic indignation. And the remark of Dolon would surely fall more meaningly on the ears of men acquainted with the presence of rustic slavery in their own country. To serfage we have a reference[142] in the _Heraclidae_, but the retainer (πενέστης) is under arms, ‘mobilized,’ not at the time working on the land. His reward, when he brings the news of victory, is to be freedom. IX. THE ‘CONSTITUTION OF ATHENS’ OR ‘OLD OLIGARCH.’ One of the most remarkable documents that have come down to us bearing upon Athenian politics is the ‘Constitution[143] of Athens’ wrongly assigned to Xenophon. It is certainly the work of an earlier writer, and the date of its composition can be fixed as between 430 and 424 BC. Thus it refers to the first years of the Peloponnesian war, during which Attica was repeatedly invaded, its rural economy upset, and the manifold consequences of overcrowding in the city of refuge were beginning to shew themselves. Not a few of the ‘better classes’ of Athenian citizens (οἱ βέλτιστοι) were dissatisfied with the readiness of the Demos, under the guidance of Pericles, to carry out a maritime and aggressive policy abroad at the cost of sacrificing rural interests at home. For the sacrifice fell on the landowners, more particularly on the larger owners: the compensations[144] of state-pay and chances of plunder might suffice for the peasant farmer driven into Athens. At the same time it was undeniable that the astounding energy displayed by democratic Athens had surprised the Greek world; and the most discontented Athenian could hardly suppress an emotion of patriotic pride. The writer of the pamphlet before us—for a pamphlet it is—was under the influence of these conflicting feelings. Whether it is right to describe him as an Oligarch depends on what that term is taken to connote. That he would greatly prefer a system[145] under which the educated orderly and honest citizens should enjoy greater consideration and power, is evident: also that in his view these qualities are normal attributes of the wealthier classes. For he finds in poverty the main cause[146] of democratic misdeeds. That the masses are ill-informed and lack judgment and self-control, is the result of their preoccupation with necessities of daily life. But from this conviction to aiming at a serious oligarchic revolution is a long step. The democracy in its less aggressive form, before the recent developments owing to the presence of an idle refugee population, might conceivably have sufficed for his requirements. He is a prejudiced contemporary witness, frank and cynical in the extreme, praising the Demos for doing the very things that he hates and despises, because those things are in the interest of the democracy such as it appears to him: they would be fools to act otherwise. For convenience sake I follow Mr Zimmern[147] in calling him the _Old Oligarch_. His disgust at the lack of discipline in the slaves at Athens, and his ingenious explanation[148] of the causes that have led to toleration of the nuisance, are very characteristic of his whole attitude. But the slaves of whom he speaks are those labourers whom their owners allowed to work for hire in the city and Peiraeus, taking a share of their pay as rent for their services. Perhaps the state slaves are meant also. He admits that you have to put up with the airs of these fellows, who often become men of substance (πλούσιοι δοῦλοι) and think themselves as good as the citizens. Truth is, the master depends on the return he gets from his investment: if the rent comes in regularly, he asks no questions and the slave is given[149] a free hand. No wonder the bondman jostles his betters in the public streets, a state of things inconceivable in orderly Sparta. Now on the face of it this picture has nothing to do with the agricultural situation. But let us look further. The stress of the great war had increased the city population. The increased demand for imported food-stuffs and for materials of war (such as ship-timber) had undoubtedly increased the demand for dock-labourers, boatmen, porters, carters, and other ‘hands.’ Male citizens had enough to do in services by land and sea. From what source was the extra force of rough able-bodied labour recruited? Is it likely that a number of raw barbarian slaves were imported for the purpose? I think not; time would be needed to make them efficient, and the available shipping had already a difficult task to keep up the supply of indispensable goods. Is it not much more likely that rustic slaves, brought into Athens by their owners, were turned to account[150] in another department of labour, thus earning wages for themselves while they maintained their masters? The probability of this view will depend largely on proof that rustic slaves were employed in Attica under normal conditions at this time. We shall presently see how the evidence of Aristophanes bears on the point. Meanwhile let us see what references to agriculture are to be found in this pamphlet. In speaking of the nautical skill[151] now a common accomplishment among Athenians, the writer remarks that the possession of estates abroad, and the duties of offices concerned with external affairs, have something to do with it. Men have to cross the water: they and their attendants (ἀκόλουθοι) thus pick up skill by experience without intending it: for it happens time and again that both master and slave (καὶ αὐτὸν καὶ τὸν οἰκέτην) have to take a turn at the oar. The estates referred to are chiefly state-lands allotted to Athenian cleruchs in confiscated districts, but also private properties. The voyages to and fro are nothing exceptional. Whether a man resided on his estate and had need to visit Athens, or whether he resided in Athens and had to visit his estate from time to time, he must go to sea. It is to be borne in mind that allottees in cleruchies often let their lands to the former owners as tenants. In another passage[152] he points out the disadvantage to Athens, as a maritime power, of not being on an island and so secure from invasion. ‘As things are, those Athenians who farm land or are wealthy (οἱ γεωργοῦντες καὶ οἱ πλούσιοι) are more inclined to conciliate the enemy (ὑπέρχονται = cringe to), while the Demos, well aware that their own belongings are in no danger of destruction, is unconcerned and defiant.’ A notable admission, confirmed by other evidence, as we shall see. It is to be observed that farmers and wealthy men are coupled together. The class more especially meant are probably those represented in Aristophanes by the substantial farmers of the _Peace_. But capitalists with investments in land are also included, and small-holders or tenants; these last working the land themselves, but not necessarily without employing hired or slave labour. X. ARISTOPHANES. =Aristophanes= is a witness of great importance. Of eleven surviving plays the _Acharnians_ appeared in 425 BC, the _Plutus_ in 388. Thus we have from this prince of wit and humour a series of comments on the social and political life of Athens and Attica from the point of view of conservative admirers of good old times. The evidence of Comedy is liable to be suspect, on the ground of a tendency to exaggerate and distort facts: but to make allowances for this tendency is not a task of extreme difficulty. Nor can it fairly be said that the political bias of the poet is such as to deprive his evidence of all authority. If he seems at times to be singularly detached from the prejudices of the war-party, dominating Athens under the democratic leaders, and able to discern and boldly to declare that the right was not solely on their own side in the war; still he was a warm patriot, devoted to the Athens whose defects he could not ignore. Among the striking events of the time nothing seems to have impressed him more forcibly than the devastation of Attica and the consequent ruin of the agricultural interest. That the cooping-up of the rural population[153] within the walls month after month was a progressive calamity, could hardly escape the notice of any one then resident. It was not merely the squalor or the appalling sickness, though these were in themselves enough to produce a terrible strain. Discontent and recklessness took hold of the masses, and other observers beside Aristophanes remarked the degeneration of the democracy. Aristophanes was an opponent of the war-policy, and strove hard to rally the farmer-folk in favour of peace. He spared no pains to discredit the noisy demagogues, accusing them of prolonging the war in order to retain or increase their own importance at the cost of the soundest element in the civic body. But, while he turned the farmers’ grievances to account in political advocacy, he was no mere unscrupulous partisan. His frequent references to the homely joys of country life, sometimes in sympathetic rural vignettes, have the ring of sincerity. Like many another dweller in the unwholesome city, he sighed for the fresh air, the wholesome food, the peace and quiet of Attic farmsteads: no doubt he idealized the surroundings, though he did not depict them as scenes of spotless innocence. But the details that drop out casually are often very significant from the point of view of my inquiry, and very helpful as giving us a genuine picture of the time. On no point is information more to be desired than the relation of agriculture to wealth. Is the typical farmer of the period a man of large estate or not? We have seen that the ‘old oligarch’ classed together the wealthy and the farmers as favouring a peace-policy. That such a body of opinion, large or small, existed in Athens, is also suggested by passages in Aristophanes. In the _Ecclesiazusae_, the play in which the leader of the female politicians offers to cure distress by a communistic scheme, we are told[154] that a proposal to mobilize a fleet divides the Assembly: the poor man votes for it, but the wealthy and the farmers are against it. I take it that, as in the case of the Sicilian expedition, the man who wants to get paid for service (with a chance of profit) supports the motion; those who dislike having to pay for the enterprise, or see no way of profiting by it, are in opposition. This is a phenomenon normal in politics, and does not tell us whether the ‘farmers’ are cultivators on a large scale or small. Later in the play we find a protest[155] against the iniquity of the present juxtaposition of wealth and destitution, the state of things in which one man farms much land while another has not enough to afford him a grave. Even a comic poet would hardly put this into the mouth of one of his characters if there were not some section of the audience to whom it might appeal. It is probable that at the time (393-2 BC) communistic suggestions were among the currents of opinion in humbled and impoverished Athens. To squeeze the rich had long been the policy of the democrats, and a jealousy of wealth in any form became endemic in the distressful city. A few years later (388 BC) the poet gave in the _Plutus_ a pointed discussion[156] of economic questions, ridiculing the notion that all could be rich at the same time: for nobody would work, and so civilization would come to an end. True, the individualistic bent of the average Athenian, grasping and litigious, prevented the establishment of downright communism: but Athens was henceforth never free from the jealous and hardly patriotic demands of the clamorous poor We must remember that military service, no longer offering prospects of profit in addition to pay, was becoming unpopular; that land-allotments[157] in conquered territories had ceased; and that agriculture in a large part of Attica was toilsome and unremunerative. Poverty was widespread, and commerce declined: this implies that the supply of slaves, and the money to buy them, would be reduced. Was there then much to attract the poor man to the lonely tillage of a patch of rocky land? The generation of small farmers before and during the great war had some outlook for themselves and their sons, serving in victorious armies or fleets, getting booty or allotments abroad. Hence they took a keen interest in politics. The fall of Athens had changed all this: the profits of empire had departed, and with them the buoyancy of an imperial pride. No wonder if there were signs of unwillingness to follow a hard rustic life. So the Informer in the _Plutus_[158], when asked ‘are you a husbandman?’ replies ‘do you take me for a madman?’ Earlier in the play[159] Chremylus, wishing to share with old cronies the profits of having captured the god of wealth, says to his slave ‘invite my fellow farmers: I fancy you’ll find them working themselves (αὐτοὺς) on their farms.’ I have taken this later picture first, in order to bring out more clearly the contrast presented by that given in the earlier plays. Naturally enough, many details are the same in both, but the general character of the farmers is different. The farmer class makes an important figure. They are sturdy rustics[160], old-fashioned and independent, rough in manners, fond of simple country life, and inclined (perhaps justly) to mistrust the city folk, who cheat them in business whenever they can, and take advantage of them in other ways, such as liability to military service at short notice. When driven to take refuge in Athens, their hearts are in their farms, and they have to make up their minds whether to support the war-party in hope of regaining their homes and property by force of arms, or to press for peace in order to end what is from their point of view an unnecessary war, kept going in the interest of demagogues and others who are profiting by the opportunities of offices and campaigns abroad. The issue appears in our earliest play, the _Acharnians_ (425 BC). The farmers of the deme Acharnae, one of whose occupations was wood-cutting and charcoal-burning, at first come on as stubborn rustics, all for war and revenge on the enemy. But Dicaeopolis the chief character of the play, himself a farmer, and a sufferer in the same kind by the Spartan raids, succeeds in persuading[161] them that Athenian policy, provocative and grasping, is really to blame for their losses. In the end they come over to his views, and the play serves as a manifesto of the peace-party. Of course we are not to take it as history. But the conflict between the two sections of opinion is probably real enough. When Dicaeopolis describes[162] himself as ‘with my eyes ever turned to my farm, a lover of peace, detesting the city and hankering after my own deme, that never yet bade me buy charcoal or rough wine or olive oil,’ he is giving us a portrait of the rustic who is resolved not to part with cash for what can be produced on the farm. But, whatever policy may seem best adapted to achieve their purpose, the purpose itself is clearly and consistently marked. The desire of the war-time farmers is simply to return to their farms[163] and to resume the life of toil and plenty, varied by occasional festivals, that had been interrupted by the war. They long to escape from the abominations of the crowding and unhealthiness prevailing in the city. Once they get back to their old surroundings, all will be well. Time and labour will even repair the damages caused by the enemy. No misgivings suggest that a change of circumstances may be found to have robbed Attic country life of some of its charm. Nothing like the loss of the empire, the fall of Athens, and the deadly depression of economic and political life, is foreboded: they face the sequel with undisturbed faith in the stability of the existing system. Nor indeed until the Sicilian disaster (413 BC) was there much to cause uneasiness. So we find the same spirit illustrated in the _Peace_ (421 BC), which may be regarded as driving home the lesson of the _Acharnians_. The agricultural interests are now represented as solidly in favour of the peace of Nicias, unsatisfactory though it soon proved to be. While other interests are slack, indifferent or even hostile, farmers are whole-hearted[164] in determination to end the war and go home. Trygaeus their leader, according to the Greek sketch of the plot an elderly rustic, describes himself[165] as a ‘skilled vine-dresser, one who is no informer or fomenter of troubles (lawsuits).’ Needless to say, he carries his point, and the farmers march off triumphant[166] to their farms, eager to take up the old easygoing life once more. We must not take our comic poet too literally, but we have no reason to doubt that feelings such as he depicts in this play did prevail, and perhaps widely. And, though the peace was insincere, and warfare never really ceased, the immunity of Attica from invasion for several years gave time for agriculture to revive. When Agis occupied Deceleia in the winter of 413, his marauders would find on the Attic farms all manner of improvements and new plantations to destroy. And the destruction of the fruits of a laborious revival is to be reckoned among the depressing influences that weighed upon falling and desperate Athens. It was surely at work in the year 411, when Aristophanes was preaching a policy of concord at home and sympathetic treatment of the Allies in order to save the shaken empire. In the _Lysistrata_ he represents the mad war-fury of the Greek states as due to the misguided men, whom the women coerce by privation into willingness for peace. This is strung up into a passionate longing, so that neither[167] of the principal parties is disposed to haggle over details. The Athenian breaks out ‘I want to strip and work my land at once.’ The Spartan rejoins ‘and I want to be carting manure.’ There is still no misgiving expressed, and the poet is probably true to facts. The struggles of the time were a fearful strain on Athenian resources, but it still seemed possible that the empire would weather the storm. This brief sketch leads on to the inquiry, what do we gather as to the labour employed on the farms? We have to consider three possibilities (_a_) the farmer, including his family, (_b_) hired labourers, (_c_) slaves. It is well to begin by remarking that frequency of reference to one of these does not necessarily imply the same proportion in actual employment. Slavery being assumed as a fact in all departments of life (as it is by all writers of the period), and the slave being an economic or domestic appliance rather than a person, there was no need to call special attention to his presence. Hence it is natural that the rustic slave should, as such, be seldom referred to in the plays. He is in fact mentioned several times, rather more often than the yoke of oxen. Nor was it necessary to mention the wage-earner, the man employed for the job under a temporary contract, and in connexion with agriculture he hardly appears at all. But the working farmers were a class of citizens. They had votes, and they were on political grounds a class to whose sympathies the poet was anxious to appeal. Therefore he had no choice but to lay stress upon their virtues and magnify their importance. Any careful reader of Aristophanes will I think admit that he does this consistently. In doing this with political aims he was subject to the temptation of passing lightly over any considerations that might, whether justly or unjustly, be turned against his case. This may serve to explain why he refers almost solely to the small working farmer, who himself labours on the land. We are not to infer that there were no large estates worked by deputy, though probably there were not many: to lay stress on the interested views of large landowners was not likely to please the jealous Demos. Nor are we to infer that the small farmer used no slaves: that he laboured himself is no proof, for no man could get more out of a slave’s labour than the working owner, on whom the burden of making good his slave’s neglect must fall. I turn now to the passages from which the various details may be gleaned. In the _Acharnians_ the working farmer Dicaeopolis is delighted at having made a separate peace on his own account. He holds it a fine thing[168] that he should now be able to perform religious rites and celebrate the festival of the rustic Dionysia with his slaves. He is back at home[169] in his own rural deme, and he calls his slave Xanthias to carry the phallus in the procession. In the _Clouds_[170] old Strepsiades says that he lives in the heart of the country, and his preference for the easy and rather squalid life on a farm is plainly expressed. And the play opens with his complaint that in war-time a man has not a free hand to punish his slaves. It is however not clear that he is supposed to be at the time living on the farm. In the _Wasps_ the chorus of old dicasts are indignant[171] that their old comrade Philocleon should be dragged off by his own slaves at the order of his son. The old man himself, struggling and protesting, reminds the leading slave of the time when he caught the rogue stealing grapes (obviously in his vineyard) and thrashed him soundly. In the _Peace_ a rustic scene[172] is described. The weather being unfavourable for work on the land, but excellent for the seed just sown, it is proposed to make merry indoors. Country fare is made ready, and the female slave Syra is told to call in the man slave Manes from the farm. A little below Trygaeus is mocking the workers in war-trades. To the trumpet-maker he says, fit up your trumpet differently[173] and you can turn it into a weighing-machine: ‘it will then do for serving out rations of figs to your slaves on the farm.’ In the _Lysistrata_ the chorus, being aware that an interval of distress will follow the conclusion of peace, offers[174] to tide over the crisis by helping the fathers of large families and owners of hungry slaves by doles of food. ‘Let them bring their bags and wallets for wheat: my Manes shall fill them.’ After these passages the announcement of the working of the communistic scheme[175] in the _Ecclesiazusae_ carries us into a very different atmosphere. ‘But who is to till the soil under the new order?’ asks Blepyrus. ‘Our slaves,’ replies Praxagora, his typical better-half. We see that this amounts to basing society on a serf-system, for the slaves will be common property like the rest. In the _Plutus_ old Chremylus is a farmer, apparently a working[176] farmer, but he has a slave, indeed more than one. Age has probably led him to do most of his work by deputy. When Poverty, in the course of her economic lecture, explains to him[177] that wealth for all means slaves for none and that he will have to plough and dig for his own proper sustenance, he is indignant. The weak points of the argument do not concern us here. The solution offered in the play, the cure of the Wealth-god’s blindness, enabling him to enrich only the deserving, is a mere piece of sportive nonsense, meant to amuse an audience, not to hold out a serious hope of better things. Enough has been said to shew that the slave had a place in farm life as depicted by Aristophanes. It will be observed that in the earlier plays the references are all of a casual kind: that is to say, that slave-labour calls for no particular attention or remark. The consideration of slave-labour as such, in fact as an economic phenomenon, only appears later. This is, I repeat, significant of the change that had come upon Athens and Attica in consequence of exhaustion. In respect of hired labour it is obvious that pressure of poverty, as stated[178] in the _Plutus_, directly influences the supply. If the possession of a competency will deter men from professional industry in trades, even more will it deter them from the drudgery of rough labour. The hired men (μισθωτοί) were commonly employed in all departments, for instance in the building trades, to which there is a reference[179] in the _Birds_. But we may fairly assume that during the great war the number of such ‘hands’ available for civilian services was much reduced. In agriculture there would be little or no demand for them. And any able-bodied citizen could earn good pay from the state. Moreover rough labour was not much to the taste of the average Athenian,—above all, digging[180]. ‘I cannot dig’ was proverbial. On the other hand there were farm-duties in the performance of which sufficient care and intelligence could only be exacted through the medium of wage-paying. Such was that of olive-pickers, to whom and their wage we have a reference[181] in the _Wasps_. They are probably free persons, but it is possible that wage-earning slaves, paying rent to their owners, might be thus employed. That in some occupations free and slave-labour were both employed indifferently, is certain. The carriage of burdens[182] is a case in point. But employment in odd jobs would be far more frequent in the city, including Peiraeus, than in country places. I do not think it rash to conclude that hired free labourers were few on the farms of Attica in the time of Aristophanes. Turning to citizen agriculturists, it must be mentioned that views differ as to the proportion of large estates held and worked by wealthy owners in this period. Such estates would almost certainly employ slave-labour. So far as the evidence of Aristophanes goes, I should infer that they were few. No doubt he had reasons for not making much of such cases; still I believe that the comfortable working farmer, homely and independent, the poet’s favourite character, was in fact the normal type. They were not paupers,—far from it: but their capital consisted in land, buildings, dead and live farm-stock, and the unexhausted value of previous cultivation. These items could not suddenly be converted into money without ruinous loss: most of them could not be carried away in the flight to Athens. Hence the dislike felt by such men to an adventurous policy, in which their interests were sacrificed. The passages in which agriculture is connected[183] with large property occur in a play produced 392 BC, at which time great changes had happened. It is highly probable that, among these changes, much Attic land had passed from the hands of ruined yeomen into those of rich men possessed of ready money and able to buy in a glutted market. In a later period we shall find γεωργεῖν used in the sense of acting the country landowner. To illustrate the life and ways of the peasant farmers of this period Aristophanes supplies endless references descriptive and allusive. The chief of these have been cited above. A few more may be added here. In the _Clouds_ Strepsiades, urging his son to a rustic life, hopes to see him dressed in a leathern jerkin, like his father before him, driving in the goats[184] from the waste (φελλέως, the rocky hill-pasture). Here is a good instance of husbandry in the Attic highlands, in short a case of crofters. What a refugee might hope to save in his flight and take back to his farm on the return of peace—it amounts to a few implements[185]—is set out in the _Peace_. Loss of oxen, a yoke of two, driven off by Boeotian raiders, is pitifully bewailed[186] by a farmer in the _Acharnians_. But in general the farmers of the earlier plays are represented as tough elderly men. They are the ‘elder generation,’ and the poet genuinely admires them. For the younger generation he has a profound contempt. Evidently he thought that the soundest breed of Athenian citizens was dying out; and I am not sure that he was wrong. I conclude that the evidence of Aristophanes on the whole points to an agriculture mainly carried on by working farmers with the help of slaves. This system was subjected to a very severe strain by the war-conditions prevailing for many years, and I do not think that it was possible to revive it on the same footing as before, even when Attica was no longer exposed to frequent raids. It was not merely the loss of fixed capital that told on the farmer class. Importation of corn was so developed and organized to meet the necessities of the crowded city, that it completely dominated the market, and in the production of cereals the home agriculture could now no longer compete with foreign harvests. There remained the culture of the olive and vine: but it needed years to restore plantations of these and other fruit-trees, and to wait for revival needed a capital possessed by few. The loss of imperial revenues impoverished Athens, and the struggle with financial difficulties runs through all her later history. It did not take the poorer citizens long to see that how to get daily bread was the coming problem. State-pay was no longer plentiful, and one aim of jealous franchise-regulations was to keep down the number of claimants. Had Aristophanes any inkling of the evil days to come? At all events he was aware that poverty works in two[187] ways: if it leads one man to practise a trade for his living, it tempts another to evildoing, perhaps to crime. XI. THUCYDIDES. =Thucydides= is a writer from whom it is extremely difficult to extract any evidence on the subject of agricultural labour. The preeminent importance of the problem of food-supply in the Greece of his day may be amply illustrated from his work; but mainly in casual utterances, the full significance of which is only to be gathered by thorough examination such as has been made[188] by Dr Grundy. The economic revolution in Attica that followed the reforms of Solon, the extended culture of the vine and olive, the reduced growth of cereal crops, the development of manufactures and sea-borne trade, the growing dependence on imported corn, and the influence of these changes on the public policy of Athens, are now seen more clearly as a whole than ever before. But to the great historian these things were part of the background of his picture. They are parts of a movement taken for granted rather than understood. And the same is true of the existence and application of slave-labour. In the time of Thucydides slavery was an economic and social fact, unchallenged. It may be that it affected unfavourably the position of the free handworker in the long run, and gave opportunities to slaveowning capitalists. But this effect came about slowly, and freeman and slave could and did labour[189] side by side, for instance in the great public works promoted by Pericles. How far slave-labour was really cheaper than free is a question beyond my subject. But it is important to note the attitude of the poor citizen towards the question of what we call a living wage. Once the great outlay on public works began to fall off, and industries on a larger scale to compete with the individual craftsman, how was the poor citizen to live? Directly or indirectly, the profits of empire supplied the answer. Now it was obvious that the fewer the beneficiaries the larger would be the average dividend of each. So the policy favoured by the poorer classes was a jealous restriction of the franchise. It was not the slave as labour-competitor against whom protection was desired, but the resident freeman of doubtful origin as a potential profit-sharer. During nearly the whole of the period covered by the history of Thucydides the public policy of Athens was controlled by urban influences. Even before the rustic citizens were cooped up in the city, it was no doubt city residents that formed the normal majority in the Assembly, and to whom most of the paid offices and functions fell. Even allowing for the recent growth of ‘seafaring rabble’ in Peiraeus, these Athenians were not at all a mere necessitous mob. But it must be remembered that the commercial and industrial capitalists were interested in foreign trade. As Mr Cornford[190] points out, even metics of this class must have had considerable influence owing to wealth and connexions. Thus the urban rich as well as the urban poor were tempted to favour a policy of adventure, contrary to the wishes and interests of the Attic farmers. Now these latter were the truest representatives of the old Attic stock. Once they were crowded into the city and many of them diverted to state service, any sobering influence that they might at first exercise would become less and less marked, and they would tend to be lost in the mass. Therefore we hear only of the rustic life[191] from which they unwillingly tore themselves in 431 BC: we do not get any detailed picture of it, for the historian’s attention was otherwise occupied. In the passage[192] accounting for the unpopularity of Pericles in 430 BC we read that the Demos was irritated because ‘having less (than the rich) to start with, it had been deprived of that little,’ while the upper class (δυνατοὶ) had lost their fine establishments. Here the context seems to imply that the δῆμος referred to is especially the small farmers, still dwelling on their losses and not yet otherwise employed. One passage is so important that it must be discussed by itself. Pericles is made to encourage[193] the Athenians in resistance to the Spartan demands by pointing out the superiority of their resources compared with those of the enemy. ‘The Peloponnesians’ he says ‘are working farmers (αὐτουργοί). They have no store of wealth (χρήματα) either private or public. Nor have they experience of protracted warfare with operations beyond the sea: for their own campaigns against each other are short, owing to poverty.’ After explaining how they must be hampered by lack of means, he resumes thus ‘And working farmers are more ready to do service in person than by payment. They trust that they may have the luck to survive the perils of war; but they have no assurance that their means will not be exhausted before it ends: for it may drag out to an unexpected length—and this is likely to happen.’ Two questions at once suggest themselves. Is this a fair sketch of agricultural conditions in Peloponnese? Does it imply that Attic farmers were not αὐτουργοί? To take the latter first, it is held by Professor Beloch[194] that the passage characterizes the Peloponnese as a land of free labour, in contrast with slave-holding Athens. To this view I cannot assent. I am convinced that the Attic farmer who worked with his own hands did often, if not always, employ slave-labour also. He would not have a large gang of slaves, like the large-scale cultivator: he could not afford to keep an overseer. But it might pay him to keep one or two slaves, not more than he could oversee himself. If the contrast be clearly limited, so as to compare the wealth of Athens, now largely industrial and commercial, with the wealth of a purely agricultural population, scattered over a wide area, and having little ready money, it is reasonable and true. But this does not raise the question of the Attic farmer at all. A little below[195] Pericles is made to urge that class to submit quietly to invasion and serious loss. They are not the people on whose resources he relies to wear out the enemy. That enemy finds it hard to combine for common action or to raise money by war-taxes. Athens is a compact community, able to act quickly, and has at disposal the forces and tribute of her subjects, secured by naval supremacy. To the other question, that of Peloponnesian agriculture, I see no simple answer. All the southern parts, the region of Spartan helotry, can hardly be called a land of free labour in any rational sense. Nor does it appear that Argolis, in spite of the various revolutions in local politics, could rightly be described thus. Elis and Achaia were hardly of sufficient importance to justify such a general description, even if it were certain that it would apply to them locally. Arcadia, mostly mountainous and backward, is the district to which the description would be most applicable. But that there were slaves in Arcadia is not only probable but attested by evidence, later in date but referring to an established[196] state of things. At festivals, we are told, slaves and masters shared the same table. This does not exclude rustic slaves: it rather seems to suggest them. The working farmer entertaining his slaves on a rural holiday is even a conventional tradition of ancient country life. Arcadia, a land of peasant farmers, where a living had to be won by hard work, a land whence already in the fifth century (and still more in the fourth) came numbers of mercenary soldiers, a land whence Sparta raised no small part of her ‘Peloponnesian’ armies, is what Pericles has chiefly in mind. And that Arcadians were normally αὐτουργοὶ did not imply that they had no slaves. So far as Attica is concerned, Thucydides himself incidentally attests the presence of rustic slaves. He would probably have been, surprised to hear such an obvious fact questioned. In refusing to repeal the ‘Megarian decree’ the Athenians charged[197] the Megarians with various offences, one of which was the reception of their runaway slaves. In the winter 415-4 BC Alcibiades, urging the Spartans to occupy Deceleia, is made to state[198] the advantages of that move thus ‘For of all the farm-stock in the country the bulk will at once come into your possession, some by capture, and the rest of its own accord (αὐτόματα).’ I take the last words to refer especially to slaves,—rustic slaves. In recording the success of the plan, the historian tells[199] us that more than 20000 slaves, a large part of whom were artisans (χειροτέχναι), deserted to the enemy. We may guess that many or most of the artisan slaves had escaped from Athens. Their loss would be felt in the reduction of manufacturing output, so far as such enterprise was still possible at the time, and perhaps in the dockyards. But the rest would be rustic slaves, many of them (to judge by the map) from a district[200] in which there were probably many small farms. On the other hand, the slaves welcomed by the Megarians were probably from larger estates in the Thriasian plain. Turning from Attica, we find references to rustic slaves[201] in Corcyra (427 BC) and Chios (412 BC), where they were numerous and important in their effect on operations. And in other passages where the slaves belonging to the people of this or that place are mentioned we are not to assume that only urban slaves are meant. For to live in a town, and go out for the day’s work on the land, was and is a common usage in Mediterranean countries. An extreme case[202] is where people live on an island and cross water to cultivate farms elsewhere. It is perhaps hardly necessary to remark that rich slaveowners, who could afford overseers, did not need to reside permanently on their estates. Such a man might have more than one farm, and in more than one district, not necessarily in Attica at all, as Thucydides himself exploited a mining concession in Thrace. In any case a well-equipped ‘country place’ was a luxury, and is characterized as such[203] in words put into the mouth of Pericles, who as the democratic statesman was concerned to stifle discontent by insinuating that it was a mere expression of the selfishness of the rich. The settlement of Athenians in colonies (ἀποικίαι) or on allotments of conquered land (κληρουχίαι), in the islands or on the seaboard has been fully treated[204] by Dr Grundy. He shews that this movement had two aims, the occupation of strategic points as an imperial measure of security, and the provision of land-lots for poorer citizens as a measure of economic relief. The latter purpose is part of a general plan for reducing the financial liabilities of the state with respect to its citizen population, the necessity for which Dr Grundy explains. By these settlements abroad some surplus population was removed and provided with means of livelihood. If the assumption of a surplus citizen population be sound (and I am not in a position to challenge it), we must also assume a certain degree of genuine land-hunger, at least more than the Attic territory could satisfy. If there was such land-hunger, it is perhaps not unreasonable to connect it with the survival of old Attic traditions of country life. And it would seem that the settlers, cleruchs or colonists, did as a rule[205] stay and live in their settlements. They would probably work their lands on much the same general plan as their brethren in Attica, and their labour-arrangements would be much the same. But in 427 BC, when Pericles was dead and there was surely no surplus population, at least of able-bodied men, owing to the war, we find a curious record. Reconquered Lesbos[206] had to be dealt with. It was not subjected to an assessed tribute (φόρος), but parcelled into 3000 allotments, 2700 of which were reserved for 2700 Athenian citizens, those who drew the lucky lots (τοὺς λαχόντας), and these 2700 were sent out. But they did not stay[207] there. They let their shares to the old inhabitants as cultivating tenants, at a rent of two minae per share per annum, and evidently returned to Athens. By this arrangement a sum of about £21000 a year would come in to the shareholders in Athens, who would have a personal interest in seeing that it was punctually paid. Whether these non-resident landlords were chosen by lot from all citizens, rich or poor, is not stated. We know that in some cases[208] at least the choice of settlers was confined to members of the two lowest property-classes; and it may well be that on this occasion the opportunity[209] was taken to compensate to some extent members of rural families, who had suffered loss from the invasions of Attica, but did not wish to go abroad. In any case their tenants would farm as they had done before, employing or not employing slave labour according to their means and the circumstances of the several farms. So too in cases of lands let on lease, and in the confiscations and redistributions of lands, proposed or carried out, it was simply their own profit and comfort that attracted the lessees or beneficiaries. We are entitled to assume that if it paid to employ slaves, and slaves were to be had, then slaves were employed. In short, the scraps of evidence furnished by Thucydides leave us pretty much where we were. XII. XENOPHON. =Xenophon=, who lived somewhere between 440 and 350 BC, introduces us to a great change in the conditions of the Greek world. The uneasiness and sufferings of the Greek states from the fall of Athens in 404 to the time of exhaustion resulting from the battle of Mantinea in 362 do not concern us here. Of such matters we hear much, but very little directly of the economic changes that were undoubtedly going on. Poverty was as before a standing trouble in Greece. In the more backward parts[210] able-bodied men left their homes to serve as hired soldiers. The age of professional mercenaries was in full swing. Arcadians Achaeans Aetolians Acarnanians Thessalians and other seekers after fortune became more and more the staple material of armies. Athens could no longer support imperial ambitions on imperial tributes, and had to depend on the sale of her products to procure her supplies of food. These products were chiefly oil and wine and urban manufactures, and there is reason to think that in general the most economical method of production was by slave labour under close and skilful superintendence. Slaves were supplied by kidnappers from the Euxine and elsewhere, but prisoners captured by armies were another source of supply. This living loot was one of the perquisites that made military life attractive, and the captives found their way to such markets as the industrial centres of Athens and Corinth. What happened in the rural districts of Attica, how far there was a revival of the small farmer class, is a point on which we are very much in the dark. The indirect evidence of Xenophon is interesting but not wholly conclusive. It is perhaps important to consider what significance should be attached to the mention of agricultural work done by men of military forces on land or sea. In 406 BC we hear of hardships[211] endured by the force under the Spartan Eteonicus who were cut off in Chios after the defeat of Arginusae. During the summer months they ‘supported themselves on the fruits of the season and by working for hire in the country.’ This is meant to shew that they were in sad straits, as the sequel clearly proves. Again, in 372 BC Iphicrates was with a force in Corcyra, and naval operations were for the time over. So he ‘managed[212] to provide for his oarsmen (νάυτας) chiefly by employing them in farm-work for the Corcyraeans,’ while he undertook an expedition on the mainland with his soldiers. In both these cases want of pay was no doubt one reason for emergency-labour. In the earlier case the destitution of the men led them to look for any paid work: in the second the general had to do his best in spite of irregular and insufficient supplies from home. In both cases it is the exceptional nature of the arrangement that makes it worth mentioning. It can hardly be viewed as having any economic significance. But it is of some interest in connexion with a passage of Aristotle[213] that will require notice below. In the _Anabasis_ Xenophon reports his own arguments, urging the Greek army to fight their way out of the Persian empire. He feared that, now Cyrus was dead, and they were cut off far from home in an enemy’s country, they might in despair surrender to the King and take service under him. At best this meant giving up Greece and settling in Persia on the King’s terms. This he begged them not to do: that they could under Greek discipline cut their way out was evident from the independence of many peoples of Asia Minor, who lived and raided as they chose in defiance of the Persian power. He added ‘Therefore I hold[214] that our right and proper course is first to make a push to reach Hellas and our own kinsmen, and to demonstrate to the Greeks that their poverty is their own fault: for, if they would only convey to these parts those of their citizens who are now living in want at home, they could see them in plenty (πλουσίους).’ But he reminds them that the good things of Asia are only to be had as the reward of victory. For my present purpose the one important point is that a mixed host of Greek mercenaries are said to have been appealed to by a reference to the fact of poverty and land-hunger among their folks at home, and that this reference is said to have been made by an Athenian. Writing this in later life, Xenophon would hardly have set down such an argument had it not then, as on the occasion recorded, had considerable force. In another passage[215] he gives an interesting account of the motives that had induced most of the men to join the expedition. He is explaining why they were irritated at a rumour that they were to be pressed to settle down at a spot on the Euxine coast. ‘It was not lack of subsistence that had led most of the soldiers to go abroad on this paid service: they had been told of the generosity of Cyrus. Some had other men following them, some had even spent money for the cause: others had run away from their parents, or left children behind, meaning to win money and return to them, on the faith of the reported prosperity of those already in the service of Cyrus. Such was the character of the men, and they were longing to get safe home to Greece.’ In short, full-blooded men were not content to drag on poor ill-found stagnant lives in corners of Greece. And we may add that nothing stimulated the enterprises of Greek adventurers in the East, and led up to the conquests of Alexander, more effectually than the experiences of the Ten Thousand. Among these experiences was of course the capture of booty, more particularly[216] in the form of marketable prisoners. So many of these were sometimes in hand that they were a drag on the march: in a moment of peril[217] they had to be abandoned. Even so, a considerable sum had been raised by sales[218] and was shared out at Cerasus. The Greek cities on the Pontic seaboard would all no doubt be resorts of slave-dealers. One of the Ten Thousand himself, formerly a slave[219] at Athens, recognized as kinsmen by their speech the people of a mountain tribe in Armenia. In Thrace too we hear of the chieftain Seuthes, when short of cash, offering[220] to make a payment partly in slaves. Nor was selling into slavery a fate reserved for barbarians alone. Greeks[221] had been treated thus in the great war lately ended; and now the Spartan harmost, anxious to clear the remainder of the Ten Thousand[222] out of Byzantium safely, made them an offer of facilities for a raid in Thrace: any that stayed behind in the town were to be sold as slaves. And more than 400 were accordingly sold. It seems reasonable to infer that at this time the slave-markets were as busy as ever, perhaps more so than had been the case during the great war. It may be going too far to say that in some parts of Greece people were now trying to restore a broken prosperity by industrial exploitation of slave-labour, while from other parts soldiers of fortune and kidnappers went forth to enlarge the supply of slaves. But that there is some truth in such a statement I do not doubt. It was evidently no easy matter for persons of small means to live in any sort of comfort at Athens. We hear of Socrates[223] discussing with a friend the embarrassments of a genteel household. The late civil disorders have driven a number of this man’s sisters cousins and aunts to take refuge in his house. In the present state of things neither land nor house property are bringing in anything, and nobody will lend. How is he to maintain a party of 14 free persons in all? Socrates points to the case of a neighbour who provides for a still larger household without difficulty. Questions elicit the fact that this household consists of slave-artisans trained to useful trades. The distressed party have been brought up as ladies, to do nothing. Socrates suggests that they had better work for bread than starve. The adoption of this suggestion produced the happiest results in every way. Such was the way in which Socrates led his friend. He drew from him the assertion that free people are superior to slaves, and so brought him round to the conviction that superiority could not be shewn by mere incapacity for work. In this conversation of Socrates may be detected the germ of a complete revolution in thought on labour-subjects. It avoids the topic of common humanity. That the slave is a man and brother, only the victim of misfortune, had been hinted by Euripides and was to become a theme of comic poets. But Socrates lets this point alone, and argues from natural economic necessity. Elsewhere he denounces[224] idleness and proclaims that useful labour is good for the labourer, taking a moral point of view. Again, he suggests[225] that the shortcomings of slaves are largely due to their masters’ slackness or mismanagement. But he accepts slavery as a social and economic fact. All the same he makes play at times with the notion of moral worthlessness, which many people regarded as characteristic of slaves in general. It is the knowledge of the true qualities[226] of conduct, in short of the moral and political virtues, that makes men honourable gentlemen (καλοὺς κἀγαθούς), and the lack of this knowledge that makes them slavish (ἀνδραποδώδεις). But, if the difference between a liberal and an illiberal training, expressed in resulting habits of mind, is thus great, the slavish must surely include many of those legally free. Hence he even goes so far as to say ‘Therefore we ought to spare no exertions to escape being slaves (ἀνδράποδα).’ And he lays stress on the need of moral qualities[227] in slaves as well as freemen: we should never be willing to entrust our cattle or our store-houses or the direction of our works to a slave devoid of self-control. His position suggests two things: first, that the importance of the slave in the economic and social system was a striking fact now recognized: second, that the unavoidable moral degradation generally assumed to accompany the condition of slavery was either wrongfully assumed or largely due to the shortcomings of masters. The conception of the slave as a mere chattel, injury to which is simply a damage to its owner, was proving defective in practice, and the philosopher was inclined to doubt its soundness in principle. Xenophon had been brought into touch with such questionings by his intercourse with Socrates. It remains to see how far he shews traces of their influence when he comes to treat labour-problems in connexion with agriculture. References to agriculture[228] are few and unimportant in the _Memorabilia_. The _Economicus_ deals directly with the subject. A significant passage throws light on the condition of rural Attica at the end of the fifth century BC. The speaker Ischomachus tells[229] how his father made money by judicious enterprise. He bought up farms that were let down or derelict, got them into good order, and sold them at a profit when improved. Clearly he was a citizen, able to deal in real estate, and a capitalist. There can hardly be a doubt that he operated by the use of slave-labour on a considerable scale. All through the _Economicus_ slavery is presupposed, but the attitude of Xenophon is characteristically genial and humane. The existence of a slave-market[230], where you may buy likely men, even skilled craftsmen, is assumed. But the most notable feature of the book is the seriousness with which the responsibility of the master[231] is asserted. There is no querulous evasion of the issue by laying the blame of failure on the incorrigible vices of slaves. Prosperity will depend on securing good service: good service cannot be secured by any amount of chains and punishments, if the master be slack and fitful: both in the house and on the farm, good sympathetic discipline, fairly and steadily enforced, is the secret of success. Carelessness malingering and desertion must be prevented or checked. And to achieve this is the function of the economic art, operating through the influence of hope rather than fear. The training of slaves[232] is a matter needing infinite pains on the part of the master and mistress. She must train her housekeeper (ταμία) as he trains his steward (ἐπίτροπος), and both are to act in a humane and kindly spirit. Yet the strictly animal view of slaves[233] appears clearly in a passage where the training of slaves is compared with that of horses or performing dogs. ‘But it is possible to make men more obedient by mere instruction (καὶ λόγῳ), pointing out that it is to their interest to obey: in dealing with slaves the system which is thought suitable for training beasts has much to recommend it as a way of teaching obedience. For by meeting their appetites with special indulgence to their bellies you may contrive to get much out of them.’ We gather that the better and more refined type of Athenian gentleman with a landed estate, while averse to inhumanity, and aware that slaves were human, still regarded his slaves as mere chattels. His humanity is prompted mainly by self-interest. As for rights, they have none. The system of rewards and punishments on the estate of course rests wholly on the masters will. The whole success of the working depends on the efficiency of the steward or stewards. Accordingly the passage in which Ischomachus explains how he deals with these trusted slaves is of particular interest. Having carefully trained a man, he must judge him[234] according to a definite standard—does he or does he not honestly and zealously discharge his trust? ‘When I find that in spite of good treatment they still try to cheat me, I conclude that their greediness is past curing, and degrade them[235] from their charge.’ This seems to mean that they are reduced to the position of the ordinary hands. ‘But when I observe any induced to be honest[236] not merely because honesty pays best, but because they want to get a word of praise from me, these I treat as no longer slaves (ὥσπερ ἐλευθέροις ἤδη). I not only enrich them, but shew them respect as men of honour.’ One is tempted to interpret these last words as implying that actual manumission takes place, the services of the men being retained as freedmen. But the words do not say so plainly, and it is safer to read into them no technical sense. That the men are trusted and allowed to earn for themselves, is enough. The agriculture depicted in the _Economicus_ is that of a landowner with plenty of capital, not that of the peasant farmer. The note of it is superintendence[237] (ἐπιμέλεια), not bodily labour (αὐτουργία). In one place αὐτουργία is mentioned, when agriculture is praised, one of its merits being the bodily strength that those gain who work with their own hands. It is as well to repeat here that the fact of a farmer labouring himself does not prove that he employs no other labour. On the other hand there is good reason to infer that the other class, those who ‘do their farming by superintendence,’ are not manual labourers at all. The benefit to them is that agriculture ‘makes them early risers and smart in their movements.’ The master keeps a horse, and is thus enabled to ride out[238] early to the farm and stay there till late. It is remarkable that in this book we hear nothing of hired labourers. There are two references[239] to the earning of pay, neither of them in connexion with agricultural labour. Yet the existence of a class of poor people who have to earn their daily bread[240] is not ignored. Socrates admires the economic skill[241] of Ischomachus. It has enabled him to be of service to his friends and to the state. This is a fine thing, and shews the man of substance. In contrast, ‘there are numbers of men who cannot live without depending on others: numbers too who are content if they can procure themselves the necessaries of life.’ The solid and strong men are those who contrive to make a surplus and use it as benefactors. I read this passage as indirect evidence of the depression of small-scale free industry and the increase of slaveowning capitalism in the Athens of Xenophon’s time. And I find another indication[242] of this in connexion with agriculture. In the course of the dialogue it appears that the chief points of agricultural knowledge are simple enough: Socrates knew them all along. Why then do some farmers succeed and others fail? The truth of the matter is, replies Ischomachus, that the cause of failure is not want of knowledge but want of careful superintendence. This criticism is in general terms, but it is surely inapplicable to the case of the working peasant farmer: he who puts his own labour into the land will not overlook the shortcomings of a hired man or a slave. In the agriculture of which this book treats it is the practical and intelligent self-interest of the master that rules everything. His appearance on the field[243] should cause all the slaves to brighten up and work with a will: but rather to win his favour than to escape his wrath. For in agriculture, as in other pursuits, the ultimate secret of success[244] is a divine gift, the power of inspiring a willing obedience. I have kept back one passage which needs to be considered with reference to the steward[245]. Can we safely assume that an ἐπίτροπος was always, or at least normally, a slave? Of those who direct the labourers, the real treasure is the man who gets zealous and steady work out of the hands, whether he be steward or director (ἐπίτροπος or ἐπιστάτης). What difference is connoted by these terms? In the _Memorabilia_[246], Socrates meets an old friend who is impoverished by the results of the great war, and driven to earn his living by bodily labour. Socrates points out to him that this resource will fail with advancing age: he had better find some employment less dependent on bodily vigour. ‘Why not look out for some wealthy man who needs an assistant in superintendence of his property? Such a man would find it worth his while to employ you as director (or foreman, ἔργων ἐπιστατοῦντα), to help in getting in his crops and looking after his estate.’ He answers ‘it would gall me to put up with a servile position (δουλείαν).’ Clearly the position of ἐπιστάτης appears to him a meaner occupation than free wage-earning by manual labour. In another place[247] we hear of an ἐπιστάτης for a mine-gang being bought for a talent (£235). That superintendents, whatever their title, were at least normally slaves, seems certain. As to the difference between ‘steward’ and ‘director’ I can only guess that the former might be a slave promoted from the ranks, but might also be what the ‘director’ always was, a new importation. It seems a fair assumption that, as a free superintendent must have been a new importation, a specially bought slave ‘director’ would rank somewhat higher than an ordinary ‘steward,’ whose title ἐπίτροπος at once marked him as a slave. In relation to the general employment of slave-labour there is practically no difference: both are slave-driving ‘overseers.’ As the pamphlet on the Revenues has been thought by some critics not to be the work of Xenophon, I pass it by, only noting that it surely belongs to the same generation. It fully attests the tendency to rely[248] on slave-labour, but it is not concerned with agriculture. The romance known as _Cyropaedia_ wanders far from fact. Its purpose is to expound or suggest Xenophon’s own views on the government of men: accordingly opportunities for drawing a moral are sought at the expense of historical truth. But from my present point of view the chief point to note is that it does not touch the labour-question with which we are concerned. True, we hear[249] of αὐτουργοί, and of the hardship and poverty of such cultivators, gaining a painful livelihood from an unkind soil. That the value of a territory depends on the presence of a population[250] able and willing to develop its resources, is fully insisted on by Cyrus. But this is in connexion with conquest. The inhabitants of a conquered district remain as tributary cultivators, merely changing their rulers. That the labour of the conquered is to provide the sustenance of the conquering race, is accepted as a fundamental principle. It is simply the right of the stronger: if he leaves anything to his subject, that is a voluntary act of grace. The reason why we hear little of slavery is that all are virtually slaves save the one autocrat. The fabric of Xenophon’s model government is a very simple one: first, an oriental Great King, possessed of all the virtues: second, a class of warrior nobles, specially trained and dependent on the King’s favour: third, a numerous subject population, whose labour supports the whole, and who are practically serfs. A cynical passage[251] describes the policy of Cyrus, meant to perpetuate the difference of the classes. After detailing minutely the liberal training enjoined on those whom he intended to employ in governing (οὓς ... ἄρχειν ᾤετο χρῆναι), Xenophon proceeds to those whom he intended to qualify for servitude (οὓς ... κατεσκεύαζεν εἰς τὸ δουλεύειν). These it was his practice not to urge to any of the liberal exercises, nor to allow them to possess arms. He took great care to spare them any privations: for instance at a hunt: the hunters had to take their chance of hunger and thirst, being freemen, but the beaters had ample supplies and halted for meals. They were delighted with this consideration, the design of which was to prevent their ever ceasing to be slaves (ἀνδράποδα). The whole scheme is frankly imperial. All initiative and power rests with the autocrat, and all depends on his virtues. That a succession of such faultless despots could not be ensured, and that the scheme was consequently utopian, did not trouble the simple Xenophon. Like many other thoughtful men of the time, he was impressed by the apparent efficiency of the rigid Spartan system, and distrusted the individual liberty enjoyed in democratic states, above all in Athens. In Persia, though he thought the Persians were no longer what Cyrus the Great had made them, he had seen how great was still the power arising from the control of all resources by a single will. These two impressions combined seem to account for the tone of the _Cyropaedia_, and the servile position of the cultivators explains why it has so very little bearing on the labour-question in agriculture. XIII. THE COMIC FRAGMENTS. In pursuing our subject from period to period, and keeping so far as possible to chronological order, it may seem inconsistent to take this collection[252] of scraps as a group. For Attic Comedy covers nearly two centuries, from the age of Cratinus to the age of Menander. Many changes happened in this time, and the evidence of the fragments must not be cited as though it were that of a single witness. But the relevant passages are few; for the writers, such as Athenaeus and Stobaeus, in whose works most of the extracts are preserved, seldom had their attention fixed on agriculture. The longer fragments[253] of Menander recently discovered are somewhat more helpful. The adaptations of Plautus and Terence must be dealt with separately. That country life and pursuits had their share of notice on the comic stage is indicated by the fact that Aristophanes produced a play[254] named Γεωργοί, and Menander a Γεωργός. That the slave-market was active is attested by references in all periods. So too is wage-earning labour of various kinds: but some of these passages certainly refer to wage-earning by slaves paying a rent (ἀποφορά) to their owners. Also the problems arising out of the relation between master and slave, with recognition of the necessity of wise management. The difference between the man who does know how to control slaves[255] and the man who does not (εὔδουλος and κακόδουλος) was early expressed, and indirectly alluded to throughout. The good and bad side of slaves, loyalty treachery honesty cheating etc, is a topic constantly handled. But these passages nearly always have in view the close relation of domestic slavery. I think we are justified in inferring that the general tone steadily becomes more humane. Common humanity gains recognition as a guide of conduct. Many of the fragments have been handed down as being neatly put moral sentences, and of these not a few[256] recognize the debt that a slave owes to a good master. These are utterances of slaves, for the slave as a character became more and more a regular figure of comedy, as comedy became more and more a drama of private life. Side by side with this tone is the frank recognition of the part played by chance[257] in the destinies of master and slave; a very natural reflexion in a state of things under which you had but to be captured and sold out of your own country, out of the protection of your own laws, to pass from the former condition to the latter. A few references to manumission also occur, and the Roman adaptations suggest that in the later Comedy they were frequent. On the other hand several fragments seem to imply that circumstances were working unfavourably to the individual free craftsmen, at least in some trades. The wisdom of learning a craft (τέχνη), as a resource[258] that cannot be lost like external possessions, is insisted on. But in other passages a more despairing view[259] appears; death is better than the painful struggle for life. No doubt different characters were made to speak from different points of view. It is to be noted that two fragments of the earlier Comedy refer to the old tradition[260] of a golden age long past, in which there were no slaves (see under Herodotus), and in which the bounty of nature[261] provided an ample supply of food and all good things (see the passages cited from the _Odyssey_). Athenaeus, who has preserved[262] these extracts, remarks that the old poets were seeking by their descriptions to accustom mankind to do their own work with their own hands (αὐτουργοὺς εἶναι). But it is evident that the subject was treated in the broadest comic spirit, as his numerous quotations shew. When in the restoration of good old times the articles of food are to cook and serve themselves and ask to be eaten, we must not take the picture very seriously. These passages do however suggest that there was a food-question at the time when they were written, of sufficient importance to give point to them: possibly also a labour-question. Now Crates and Pherecrates flourished before the Peloponnesian war and during its earlier years, Nicophon was a late contemporary of Aristophanes. The evidence is too slight to justify a far-reaching conclusion, but it is consistent with the general inferences drawn from other authorities. In the fragments of the later Comedy we begin to find passages bearing on agriculture, and it is surely a mere accident that we do not have them in those of the earlier. The contrast between life in town and life in the country is forcibly brought out[263] by Menander. The poor man has no chance in town, where he is despised and wronged: in the country he is spared the galling presence of witnesses, and can bear his ill fortune on a lonely farm. The farm then is represented as a sort of refuge from unsatisfactory surroundings in the city. When we remember that in Menander’s time Athens was a dependency of one or other of Alexander’s Successors, a community of servile rich and mean poor, fawning on its patrons and enjoying no real freedom of state-action, we need not wonder at the poet’s putting such a view into the mouths of some of his characters. The remains of the play Γεωργὸς are of particular interest. The old master is a tough obstinate old fellow, who persists in working[264] on the land himself, and even wounds himself by clumsy use of his mattock. But he has a staff of slaves, barbarians, on whom he is dependent. These paid no attention to the old man in his misfortune; a touch from which we may infer that the relations between master and slaves were not sympathetic. But a young free labourer in his employ comes to the rescue, nurses him, and sets him on his legs again. While laid up, the old man learns by inquiry that this youth is his own son, the fruit of a former amour, whom his mother has reared in struggling poverty. Enough of the play remains to shew that the trials of the free poor were placed in a strong light, and that, as pointed out above, the struggle for existence in the city was felt to be especially severe. In this case whether the old man is rich or not does not appear: at all events he has enough property to make amends for his youthful indiscretions by relieving the necessities of those who have a claim on him. He is probably the character in whose mouth[265] were put the words ‘I am a rustic (ἄγροικος); that I don’t deny; and not fully expert in affairs of city life (lawsuits etc?): but I was not born yesterday.’ The functions of the rustic slaves may give us some notion of the kind of farms that Menander had in mind. In the Γεωργός, the slave Davus, coming in from his day’s labour, grumbles[266] at the land on which he has to work: shrubs and flowers of use only for festival decorations grow there as vigorous weeds, but when you sow seed you get back what you sowed with no increase. This savours of the disappointing tillage of an upland farm. In the Ἐπιτρέποντες[267], Davus is a shepherd, Syriscus a charcoal-burner, occupations also proper to the hill districts. We must not venture to infer that Attic agriculture was mainly of this type in the poet’s day. The favourite motive of plots in the later Comedy, the exposure of infants in remote spots, their rescue by casual herdsmen or other slaves, and their eventual identification as the very person wanted in each case to make all end happily, would of itself suggest that lonely hill-farms, rather than big estates in the fat lowland, should be the scene. From my point of view the fact of chief interest is that slave-labour appears as normal in such an establishment. Rustic clothing[268] and food served out in rations[269] are minor details of the picture, and the arrangement by which a slave can work as wage-earner[270] for another employer, paying over a share to his own master (the ἀποφορά), surely indicates that there was nothing exceptional about it. There are one or two other fragments directly bearing on agricultural labour. One of uncertain age[271] speaks of a tiresome hand who annoys his employer by chattering about some public news from the city, when he should be digging. I doubt whether a slave is meant: at least he is surely a hired one, but why not a poor freeman, reduced to wage-earning? Such is the position of Timon[272] in Lucian—μισθοῦ γεωργεῖ—a passage in which adaptations from Comedy are reasonably suspected. That rustic labour has a better side to it, that ‘the bitter of agriculture has a touch of sweet in it,’ is admitted[273] by one of Menander’s characters, but the passage which seems the most genuine expression of the prevalent opinion[274] is that in which we read that a man’s true part is to excel in war, ‘for agriculture is a bondman’s task’ (τὸ γὰρ γεωργεῖν ἔργον ἐστὶν οἰκέτου). The nature and condition of the evidence must be my excuse for the unsatisfactory appearance of this section. The number of passages bearing on slavery in general, and the social and moral questions connected therewith, is large and remote from my subject. They are of great interest as illustrating the movement of thought on these matters, but their bearing on agricultural labour is very slight. To the virtues of agriculture as a pursuit tending to promote a sound and manly character Menander[275] bears witness. ‘A farm is for all men a trainer in virtue and a freeman’s life.’ Many a town-bred man has thought and said the same, but praise is not always followed by imitation. Even more striking is another[276] remark, ‘farms that yield but a poor living make brave men.’ For it was the hard-living rustics from the back-country parts of Greece that succeeded as soldiers of fortune, the famous Greek mercenaries whose services all contemporary kings were eager to secure. In short, to the onlooker it seemed a fine thing to be bred a healthy rustic, but the rustic himself was apt to prefer a less monotonous and more remunerative career. XIV. EARLY LAWGIVERS AND THEORISTS. The treatises of the two great philosophers on the state (and therefore on the position of agriculture in the state) did not spring suddenly out of nothing; nor was it solely the questionings of Socrates[277] that turned the attention of Plato and Aristotle to the subject. Various lawgivers had shewn in their systems a consciousness of its importance, and speculative thinkers outside[278] the ranks of practical statesmen had designed model constitutions in which a reformed land-system played a necessary part. It is to Aristotle, the great collector of experience, that we owe nearly all our information of these attempts. It is convenient to speak of them briefly together. All recognize much the same difficulties, and there is a striking similarity in the means by which they propose to overcome them. The lawgivers[279] referred to are =Pheidon= of Corinth and =Philolaus=, also a Corinthian though his laws were drafted for Thebes, and thirdly[280] =Solon=. The dates of the first two are uncertain, but they belong to early times. The two constitution-framers[281] are =Hippodamus= of Miletus, whose birth is placed about 475 BC, and =Phaleas= of Chalcedon, probably somewhat later. Both witnessed the growth of imperial Athens, and Phaleas at least is thought to have been an elder contemporary of Plato. Very little is known about them. If we say that the attempt to design ideal state systems shews that they were not satisfied with those existing, and that the failure of past legislation may have encouraged them to theorize, we have said about all that we are entitled to infer. On one point there was general agreement among Greek states: all desired to be ‘free’ or independent of external control. For some special purpose one people might for a time be recognized as the Leaders (ἡγεμόνες) of a majority of states, or more permanently as Representatives or Patrons (προστάται). But these unofficial titles only stood for a position acquiesced in under pressure of necessity. Each community wanted to live its own life in its own way, and the extreme jealousy of interference remained. Side by side with this was an internal jealousy causing serious friction in most of the several states, at first between nobles and commons, later between rich and poor. The seditions (στάσεις) arising therefrom were causes, not only of inner weakness and other evils, but in particular of intervention from without Therefore it was often the policy of the victors in party strife to expel or exterminate their opponents, in order to secure to themselves undisputed control of their own state. This tendency operated to perpetuate the smallness of scale in Greek states, already favoured by the physical features of the land. That the Greeks with all their cleverness never invented what we call Representative Government is no wonder. Men’s views in general were directed to the independence of their own state under control of their own partisans. The smaller the state, the easier it was to organize the control: independence could only be maintained by military efficiency, and unanimous loyalty was something to set off against smallness of numbers. Moreover the Greek mind had an artistic bent, and the sense of proportion was more easily and visibly gratified on a smaller scale. The bulk of Persia did not appear favourable to human freedom and dignity as understood in Hellas. In the Persian empire there was nothing that a Greek would recognize as citizenship. The citizen of a Greek state expected to have some voice in his own government: the gulf between citizen and non-citizen was the line of division, but even in Sparta the full citizens were equals in legal status among themselves. We may fairly say that the principle of equality (τὸ ἴσον) was at the root of Greek notions of citizenship. Privilege did not become less odious as it ceased to rest on ancestral nobility and became more obviously an advantage claimed by wealth. Since the light thrown on the subject[282] by Dr Grundy, no one will dispute the importance of economic considerations in Greek policy, and in particular of the ever-pressing question of the food-supply. The security of the land and crops was to most states a vital need, and necessitated constant readiness to maintain it in arms. Closely connected therewith was the question of distribution. Real property was not only the oldest and most permanent investment. Long before Aristotle[283] declared that ‘the country is a public thing’ (κοινόν), that is an interest of the community, that opinion was commonly held, whether formulated or instinctive. The position of the landless man was traditionally a dubious one. The general rule was that only a citizen could own land in the territory of the state. From this it was no great step to argue that every citizen ought to own a plot of land within the borders. This was doubtless not always possible. In such a state as Corinth or Megara or Miletus commercial growth in a narrow territory had led to extensive colonization from those centres. And the normal procedure in the foundation of Greek colonies was to divide the occupied territory into lots (κλῆροι) and assign them severally to settlers. In course of time the discontents generated by land-monopolizing in old Hellas were liable to reappear beyond the seas, particularly in colonial states of rapid growth: a notorious instance is found in the troubles arising at Syracuse out of the squatter-sovranty created by the original colonists. We meet with plans for confiscation and redistribution of land as a common phenomenon of Greek revolutions. The mischievous moral effects of so unsettling a process on political wellbeing did not escape the notice of thoughtful observers. But on one important point we have practically no evidence. Did the new allottees wish to be, and in fact normally become, working farmers (αὐτουργοί)? Or did they aim at providing for themselves an easy life, supported by the labour of slaves? I wish I could surely and rightly decide between these alternatives. As it is, I can only say that I believe the second to be nearer the truth. Under such conditions Greek lawgivers and theorists alike seem to have looked to much the same measures for remedying evils that they could not ignore. The citizen as landholder is the human figure with which they are all concerned. To prevent destitution arising from the loss[284] of his land-lot is a prime object. Some therefore would forbid the sale of the lot. To keep land in the same hands it was necessary to regulate numbers of citizen households, and this was attempted[285] in the laws of Pheidon. Families may die out, so rules to provide for perpetuity by adoptions[286] were devised by Philolaus. Again, there is the question of the size of the lots, and this raises the further question of a limit to acquisition. Such a limitation is attributed[287] to certain early lawgivers not named, and with them apparently to Solon. Phaleas would insist on equality of landed estate[288] among his citizens: a proposal which Aristotle treats as unpractical, referring to only one form of wealth, and leaving out of account slaves, tame animals, coin, and the dead-stock tools etc. His exclusive attention to internal civic wellbeing is also blamed, for it is absurd to disregard the relations of a state to other states: there must be a foreign policy, therefore you must provide[289] military force. The fanciful scheme of Hippodamus, a strange doctrinaire genius, seems to have been in many points inconsistent from want of attention to practical detail. From Aristotle’s account he appears not to have troubled himself with the question of equal land-lots, but his fixing the number[290] of citizens (10,000) is evidence that his point of view necessitated a limit. He proceeds on a system of triads. The citizens are grouped in three classes, artisans (τεχνῖται), husbandmen (γεωργοί), and the military, possessors of arms. The land is either sacred (for service of religion, ἱερά), public (δημοσία or κοινή) or the property of the husbandmen (ἰδία). The three classes of land and citizens are to be assumed equal. The military are to be supported by the produce of the public land. But who cultivates it? Aristotle shews that the scheme is not fully thought out. If the soldiers, then the distinction, obviously intended, between soldier and farmer, is lost. If the farmers, then the distinction between the public and private land is meaningless. If neither, a fourth class, not allowed for in the plan, will be required. This last is probably what Hippodamus meant: but to particularize the employment of slaves may have appeared superfluous. Into the purely constitutional details I need not enter, but one criticism is so frankly expressive of Greek ideas that it can hardly be omitted. What, says Aristotle, is the use of political rights to the artisans and husbandmen? they are unarmed, and therefore will practically be slaves of the military class. This was the truth in Greek politics generally, and is one of the most significant facts to be borne in mind when considering the political failure of the Greeks. A curious difference of economic view is shewn in the position assigned to the artisan[291] or craftsman element by Hippodamus and Phaleas respectively. Phaleas would have them state-slaves (δημόσιοι), Hippodamus makes them citizens, though unarmed. On the former plan the state would no doubt feed them and use their produce, as we do with machinery. Of the latter plan Aristotle remarks that τεχνῖται are indispensable: all states need them, and they can live of the earnings of their crafts, but the γεωργοὶ as a distinct class are superfluous. We may reply that, if the craftsmen live of their earnings and stick to their several crafts, they will need to buy food, and the farmers are surely there to supply it. The reply is so obvious that one feels as if Aristotle’s meaning had been obscured through some mishap to the text. For the present purpose it suffices that the professional craftsmen in these two Utopias are to be either actual slaves or citizens _de iure_ who are _de facto_ as helpless as slaves. In the scheme of Hippodamus the farmer-class also are virtually the slaves of the military. Another notable point, apparently neglected by Hippodamus, is the trust reposed in education[292] or training by both Phaleas and his critic. How to implant in your citizens the qualities needed for making your institutions work well in practice, is the problem. Phaleas would give all the same training, on the same principle as he gives equal land-lots. To Aristotle this seems crude nonsense: the problem to him is the discovery of the appropriate training, whether the same for all or not. This insistence on training as the main thing in citizen-making is, as we shall see, a common feature of Greek political speculation. But in the artistic desire to produce the ‘complete citizen,’ and thereby make possible a model state, the specializing mania outruns the humbler considerations of everyday human society, and agriculture, for all its confessed importance, is apt to be treated with something very like contempt. The tendency to regard farmer and warrior as distinct classes is unmistakeable. The peasant-soldier of Roman tradition is not an ordinary Greek figure. How far the small scale of Greek states may have favoured this differentiation is very hard to say. But Greek admiration for the athlete type had probably something to do with the growth of military professionalism. The recognition of a land-question and attempts to find a solution were probably stimulated by observation of contemporary phenomena, especially in the two leading states of the fifth century. Sparta had long held the first place, and even the rise of Athens had not utterly destroyed her ancient prestige. That her military system was effective, seemed proved by the inviolability of Laconian territory and the successes of her armies in external wars. That it was supported by the labour of a Greek population reduced to serfdom, was perhaps a weak point in her institutions; but that Greek opinion was seriously shocked by the fact can hardly be maintained. It was now and then convenient to use it as a passing reproach, but even Athens did not refuse to aid in putting down Helot rebellions. And this weak point was set off by a strong one. Whatever the reasons[293] for her policy, she interfered very little in the internal affairs of her allies and did not tax them. To be content with the leadership of confederates, and not to convert it into an empire of subjects, assured to her a certain amount of respectful sympathy in the jealous Greek world. Thus she afforded an object-lesson in the advantages of rigid specialization. She provided her own food in time of peace, and took her opponents’ food in time of war. The disadvantages of her system were yet to appear. Athens on the other hand was becoming more and more dependent on imported food. She was the leader of the maritime states and islands: she had become their imperial mistress. However easy her yoke might be in practice, it left no room for independent action on the part of her subject allies: what had been contributions from members of a league had become virtually imperial taxation, and to Greek prejudices such taxation appeared tyranny. Nor was this prejudice allowed to die out. The rival interests of commercial Corinth saw to it that the enslavement, not of Greeks but of Greek states, should be continually borne in mind. The contrast between the two leading powers was striking. But, if many Greek states feared in Athens a menace to their several independence, on the other hand they shrank from copying the rigid discipline of Sparta. No wonder that some of the more imaginative minds had dreams of a system more congenial to Greek aspirations. But the land-question was a stumbling-block. That a citizen should take an active personal share in politics was assumed, and that he should do this tended to make him depute non-political duties to others. Thus the notion that all citizens should be equal in the eye of the law and share in government—democracy in short—was not favourable to personal labour on the land. No distribution of land-lots could convert the city politician into a real working farmer. Therefore either there must be a decline in agriculture or an increase of slave-labour, or both. From these alternatives there was no escape: but ingenious schemers long strove to find a way. And from those days to these no one has succeeded in constructing a sound and lasting civilization on a basis of slavery. XV. PLATO. An Athenian who died in 347 BC at the age of 80 or 82 years had witnessed extraordinary changes in the Hellenic world, more particularly in the position of Athens. With the political changes we are not here directly concerned. But they were closely connected with economic changes, both as cause and as effect. The loss of empire[294] entailed loss of revenue. The amounts available as state-pay being reduced, the poorer citizens lost a steady source of income: that their imperial pride had departed did not tend to make them less sensitive to the pinch of poverty. Athens, thrown back upon her own limited resources, had to produce what she could in order to buy what she needed, and capital, employing slave-labour, found its opportunity. In this atmosphere discontent and jealousy grew fast: conflicting interests of rich and poor were at the back of all the disputes of political life. Athens it is true avoided the crude revolutionary methods adopted in some less civilized states. The Demos did not massacre or banish the wealthy Few, and share out their lands and other properties among the poor Many. But they consistently regarded the estates of the rich as the source from which the public outlay should as far as possible be drawn. They left the capitalist free to make money in his own way, and squeezed him when he had made it. Whether he were citizen or metic[295] mattered not from the economic point of view. Capitalistic industry was really slave-industry. The ‘small man’ had the choice of either competing, perhaps vainly, with the ‘big man’ on the land or in the workshop, or of giving up the struggle and using his political power to make the ‘big man’ disgorge some of his profits. Moreover military life no longer offered the prospects of conquest and gain that had made it attractive. The tendency was to treat the citizen army as a defensive force, and to employ professional mercenaries (of whom there was now[296] no lack) on foreign service. To a thoughtful observer these phenomena suggested uneasy reflexions. Demos in Assembly was a dispiriting spectacle. Selfish[297] and shortsighted, he cared more for his own belly and his amusements than for permanent interests of state. Perhaps this was no new story. But times had changed, and the wealthy imperial Athens, able to support the burden of her own defects, had passed away. Bad government in reduced circumstances might well be productive of fatal results. It was not Athens alone that had failed. Fifteen years before Plato’s death the failure of both Sparta and Thebes had left Hellas exhausted[298] and without a leading state to give some sort of unity to Greek policy. There was still a common Hellenic feeling, but it was weak compared with separatist jealousy. Antipathy to the Barbarian remained: but the Persian power had been called in by Greeks to aid them against other Greeks, and this was a serious danger to the Greek world. Things were even worse in the West. How anarchic democracy had paved the way for military tyranny at Syracuse, how the tyranny had lowered the standard of Greek civilization in Sicily and Italy, and had been the ruin of Greek cities, no man of that age knew better than Plato. Plato was not singular in his distrust of democracy: that attitude was common enough. Among the companions of Socrates I need only refer to Xenophon and Critias. Socrates had insisted that government is a difficult art, for success in which a thorough training is required. Now, whatever might be the case in respect of tyrannies or oligarchies, democracy was manifestly an assertion of the principle that all citizens were alike qualified for a share in the work of government. Yet no craftsman would dream of submitting the work of his own trade to the direction of amateurs. Why then should the amateur element, led by amateurs, dominate in the sphere of politics? It was easy to find instances of the evil effects of amateurism in public affairs. It is true that this line of argument contained a fallacy, as arguments from analogy very often do. But it had a profound influence on Plato, and it underlay all his political speculations. It was reinforced by an influence that affected many of his contemporaries, admiration of Sparta on the score of the permanence[299] of her system of government. That this admiration was misguided, and the permanence more apparent than real, matters not: to a Greek thinker it was necessarily attractive, seeking for some possibly permanent principle of government, and disgusted with the everlasting flux of Hellenic politics. Nor was there anything strange in imagining an ideal state in which sound principles might be carried into effect. The foundation of colonies, in which the settlers made a fresh start as new communities, was traditionally a Greek custom. Such was the foundation, logical and apparently consistent with experience, on which Plato designed to build an Utopia. Avoiding the unscientific _laisser-faire_ of democratic politics, functions were to be divided on a rational system, and government placed in the hands of trained specialists. It is well to note some of the defects of Greek civilization as Plato saw it, particularly in Athens. The confusion and weakness of democratic government, largely the fruit of ignorance haste and prejudice, has been referred to above. In most states the free citizen population were born and bred at the will of their fathers under no scientific state-regulation, not sifted out in youth by scientific selection, and only trained up to the average standard locally approved. Something better was needed, if more was to be got out of human capacity. But it seems certain that Plato found the chief and most deep-seated source of social and political evils in the economic situation. The unequal distribution of wealth and the ceaseless struggle between rich and poor lay at the root of that lack of harmonious unity in which he saw the cause of the weakness and unhappiness of states. To get rid of the plutocrat and the beggar[300] was a prime object. Confiscation and redistribution[301] offered no lasting remedy, so long as men remained what they were. A complete moral change was necessary, and this could only be effected by an education that should train all citizens cheerfully and automatically to bear their several parts in promoting the happiness of all. There must be no more party-strivings after the advantage of this or that section: the guiding principle must be diversity of individual functions combined with unity of aim. An ideal state must be the Happy Land of the Expert, and each specialist must mind his own business. Thus each will enjoy his own proper happiness: friction competition and jealousy will pass away. There will be no more hindrance to the efficiency of craftsmen: we shall not see one tempted by wealth[302] to neglect his trade, while another is too poor to buy the appliances needed for turning out good work. The expert governors or Guardians must be supplied with all necessaries[303] by the classes engaged in the various forms of production. Thus only can they be removed from the corruptions that now pervert politicians. To them at least all private property must be denied. And, in order that they may be as expert in their own function of government as other craftsmen are in their several trades, they must be bred selected and educated on a strictly scientific system the very opposite of the haphazard methods now in vogue. This brief sketch of the critical and constructive scope of the _Republic_ must suffice for my purpose. Plato laid his finger on grave defects, but his remedies seem fantastic in the light of our longer and more varied experience. Any reform of society had to be carried out by human agency, and for the difficulty of adapting this no adequate allowance is made. He recognizes the difficulty of starting an ideal community on his model. Old prejudices will be hard to overcome. So he suggests[304] that it will be necessary for the philosophical rulers to clear the ground by sending all the adult inhabitants out into the country, keeping in the city only the children of ten years and under: these they will train up on their system. He implies that with the younger generation growing up under properly regulated conditions the problems of establishment will solve themselves by the effect of time. This grotesque proposal may indicate that Plato did not mean his constructive design to be taken very seriously. But a more notable weakness appears in the narrowness of outlook. It was natural that a Greek should think and write as a Greek for Greeks, and seek lessons in Greek experience. But the blight of disunion and failure was already on the little Greek states; and their experience, not likely to recur, has in fact never really recurred. Hence the practical value of Plato’s stimulating criticism and construction is small. In the labour-question we find no advance. Slavery is assumed as usual, but against the enslavement of Greeks, of which recent warfare supplied many examples, he makes[305] a vigorous protest. Euripides had gone further than this, and questionings of slavery had not been lacking. Another very Greek limitation of view comes out in the contempt[306] for βαναυσία, the assumed physical and moral inferiority of persons occupied in sedentary trades. That such men were unfitted for the rough work of war, and therefore unfitted to take part in ruling an independent Greek state, was an opinion not peculiar to Plato. But this objection could not well be raised against the working farmer. Why then does Plato exclude the farmer-class from a share in the government of his ideal state? I think we may detect three reasons. First, the husbandman, though necessary to the state’s existence, has not the special training required for government, nor the leisure to acquire it. Second, it is his intense occupation that alone secures to the ruling class the leisure needful for their responsible duties. Third, the belief[307] that a man cannot be at the same time a good husbandman and a good soldier. These three may be regarded as one: the philosopher would get rid of haphazard amateurism by making the expert specialist dominant in all departments of civil and military life. The influence of the Spartan system (much idealized), and the growth of professional soldiering, on his theories is too obvious to need further comment. Reading the _Republic_ from the labour-question point of view, one is struck by the lack of detail as to the condition of the classes whose labour feeds and clothes the whole community. We must remember that the dialogue starts with an attempt to define Justice, in the course of which a wider field of inquiry is opened up by assuming an analogy[308] between the individual and the state. As the dominance of his nobler element over his baser elements is the one sure means of ensuring the individual’s lasting happiness, so the dominance of the nobler element in the state alone offers a like guarantee. On these lines the argument proceeds, using an arbitrary psychology, and a fanciful political criticism to correspond. The construction of a model state is rather incidental than essential to the discussion. No wonder that, while we have much detail as to the bodily and mental equipment of the ‘Guardians’ (both the governing elders and the warrior youths) we get no information as to the training of husbandmen and craftsmen. Like slaves, they are assumed to exist: how they become and remain what they are assumed to be, we are not told. We are driven to guess that at this stage of his speculations Plato was content to take over these classes just as he found them in the civilization of his day. But he can hardly have imagined that they would acquiesce in any system by which they would be excluded from all political power. The hopeless inferiority of the husbandman is most clearly marked when contrasted with the young warriors of the ‘Guardian’ class. Duties are so highly specialized that men are differentiated for life. The γεωργὸς cannot be a good soldier. But if a soldier shews cowardice he is to be punished[309] by being made a γεωργὸς or δημιουργός—a degradation in itself, and accompanied by no suggestion of a special training being required to fit him for his new function. It is unnecessary to enlarge on such points: constructors of Utopias cannot avoid some inconsistencies and omissions. The simple fact is that the arrangements for differentiation of classes in the model state are not fully worked out in detail. Plato’s Guardians are to have no private property; for it is private property[310] that seems to him the cause of sectional and personal interests which divide and weaken the state and lead to unhappiness. But the other classes are not so restricted. They can own land and houses etc; on exactly what tenure, is less clear. Meanwhile, what is it that the Guardians have in common? It is the sustenance (τροφὴ) provided as pay (μισθὸς) for their services by the mass of workers over whom they rule. It is expressly stated[311] that in the model state the Demos will call the Rulers their Preservers and Protectors, and the Rulers call the Demos their Paymasters and Sustainers. In existing states other than democracies their mutual relation is too often expressed as that of Masters and Slaves. I cannot refrain from noting that, if the pay of the Guardians consists in their sustenance, this is so far exactly the case of slaves. That power and honour should be reserved for men maintained thus, without private emoluments, is remarkable. The Spartiates, however much an idealizing of their system may have suggested the arrangement, were maintained by the sulky labour of Helot serfs. Are the husbandmen in Plato’s scheme really any better than Helots? In describing the origin of states in general, Plato finds the cause[312] of that development in the insufficiency of individuals to meet their own needs. But in tracing the process of the division of labour, and increasing complexity of civilization, he ignores slavery, though slavery is often referred to in various parts of the book. Now, if the husbandman has under him no slaves, and is charged with the food-supply of his rulers, he comes very near to the economic status of a serf. He works with his own hands, but not entirely at his own will or for his own profit. And in one respect he would, to Greek critics, seem inferior to a Spartan[313] Helot: he is, by the extreme specializing system, denied all share in military service, and so can hardly be reckoned a citizen at all. How came Plato to imagine for a single moment that a free Greek would acquiesce in such a position? I can only guess that the present position of working farmers and craftsmen in trades seemed to him an intolerable one. If, as I believe from the indications in Xenophon and other authorities, agriculture and the various industries of Attica were now steadily passing into the hands of slaveowning capitalists, and small men going to the wall, there would be much to set a philosopher thinking and seeking some way of establishing a wholesomer state of things. On this supposition speculations, however fantastic and incapable of realization in fact, might call attention to practical evils and at least prepare men’s minds for practical remedies. In admitting the difficulty of making a fresh start, and the certainty that even his model state would in time lose its purity[314] and pass through successive phases of decay, Plato surely warns us not to take his constructive scheme seriously. But whether he really believed that free handworkers could (save in an oligarchy, which[315] he detests,) be induced to submit to a ruling class, and be themselves excluded on principle from political interests of any kind, is more than I can divine. That the scheme outlined in the _Republic_ was not a practical one was confessed by Plato in his old age by producing the _Laws_, a work in which the actual circumstances of Greek life were not so completely disregarded. The main points that concern us are these. Government is to be vested in a detailed code of laws, administered by magistrates elected by the citizens. There is a Council and an Assembly. Pressure is put upon voters, especially[316] on the wealthier voters, to make them vote. The influence of the Solonian model is obvious. Provision is made[317] for getting over the difficulties of the first start, while the people are still under old traditions which the new educational system will in due course supersede. But, so far from depending on perfect Guardians with absolute power, and treating law as a general pattern[318] modifiable in application by the Guardians at their discretion, we have law supreme and Guardians dependent on the people’s will. It is a kind of democracy, but Demos is to be carefully trained, and protected from his own vagaries by minute regulations. The number of citizens[319] is by law fixed at 5040. Each one has an allotment of land, a sacred κλῆρος that cannot be sold. This passes by inheritance from father to son as an undivided whole. Extinction of a family may be prevented by adoptions under strict rules. Excess of citizen population may be relieved by colonies. Poverty is excluded[320] by the minimum guaranteed in the inalienable land-lot, excessive wealth by laws fixing a maximum. It is evident that in this detailed scheme of the _Laws_ agriculture must have its position more clearly defined than in the _Republic_. So indeed it has. In order that all may have a fair share, each citizen’s land-lot[321] is in two parts, one near the city, the other near the frontier. Thus we see that all citizens will be interested in cultivating the land. We see also that this will be absolutely necessary: for it is intended[322] that the model state shall not be dependent on imported food (like Athens), but produce its own supply. Indeed commerce is to be severely restricted. What the country cannot produce must if necessary be bought, and for this purpose only[323] will a recognized Greek currency be employed: internal transactions will be conducted with a local coinage. The evil effects[324] seen to result from excessive commercial dealings will thus be avoided. When we turn to the agricultural labour-question, we find that wholesale employment of slaves[325] or serfs is the foundation of the system. For Plato, holding fast to the principle of specialization, holds also that leisure[326] is necessary for the citizens if they are to bear their part in politics with intelligent judgment. As, in this second-best Utopia, the citizens are the landowners, and cannot divest themselves of their civic responsibilities, they must do their cultivating by deputy. And this practically amounts to building the fabric of civilization on a basis of slavery—nothing less. In the matter of agriculture, the industry on which this self-sufficing community really rests, this dependence on slave-labour is most striking. It even includes a system[327] of serf-tenants (probably for the borderland farms) who are to be left to cultivate the land, paying a rent or quota of produce (ἀπαρχὴ) to the owners. The importance of not having too large a proportion[328] of the slaves in a gang drawn from any one race is insisted on as a means of preventing combinations and risings. At the same time careful management is enjoined, sympathetic[329] but firm: a master should be kind, but never forget that he is a master: no slave must be allowed to take liberties. To implant a sound tradition of morality is recognized as a means of promoting good order in the community, and this influence should be brought to bear[330] on slaves as well as on freemen. Yet the intrinsic chattelhood of the slave appears clearly in many ways; for instance, the damage to a slave is made good by compensating[331] his owner. The carelessness of ill-qualified practitioners[332] who treat slaves, contrasted with the zeal of competent doctors in treating freemen, is another significant touch. It seems then that Plato, the more he adapts his speculations to the facts of existing civilization, the more positively he accepts slave-labour as a necessary basis. The conception of government as an art is surely the chief cause of this attitude. The extreme specialization of the _Republic_ is moderated in the _Laws_, but there is not much less demand for leisure, if the civic artists are to be unhampered in the practice of their art. Of the dangers[333] of servile labour on a large scale he was well aware, and he had evidently studied with attention[334] the awkward features of serfdom, not only in the old Hellas, but in the Greek colonial states of the East and West. Nevertheless he would found his economy on the forced labour of human chattels. A system that had grown up in the course of events, extending or contracting according to changes of economic circumstance, was thus presented as the deliberate result of independent thought. But the only theory at the back of traditional slavery was the law[335] of superior force—originally the conqueror’s will. Plato was therefore driven to accept this law as a principle of human society. To accept it was to bring his speculations more into touch with Greek notions; for no people have surpassed the Greeks in readiness to devolve upon others the necessary but monotonous drudgery of life. This attitude of his involves the conclusion that the Barbarian is to serve the Greek, a position hardly consistent with his earlier[336] doctrine, that no true line could be drawn distinguishing Greek and Barbarian. Such a flux of speculative opinion surely weakens our respect for Plato’s judgment in these matters. We can hardly say that he offers any effective solution of the great state-problems of his age. But that these problems were serious and disquieting his repeated efforts bear witness. And one of the most serious was certainly that of placing the agricultural interest on a sound footing. Its importance he saw: but neither of his schemes, neither passive free farmers nor slave-holding landlords, was likely to produce the desired result. To say this is not to blame a great man’s failure. Centuries have passed, and experience has been gained, without a complete solution being reached: the end is not yet. A few details remain to be touched on separately. The employment of hired labourers is referred to as normal[337] in the _Politicus_ _Republic_ and _Laws_. They are regarded simply as so much physical strength at disposal. They are free, and so able to transfer their labour from job to job according to demand. Intellectually and politically they do not count. But the μισθωτὸς is neither a chattel like the slave, nor bound to the soil like the serf. I have found no suggestion of the employment of this class in agriculture; and, as I have said above, I believe that they were in fact almost confined to the towns, especially such as the Peiraeus. It is also worth noticing that we find favourable mention of apprenticeship[338] as a method of learning a trade. But this principle also seems not applied to agriculture. Again, we are told[339] in the _Laws_ that one who has never served (δουλεύσας) will never turn out a creditable master (δεσπότης). From the context this would seem to refer only to the wardens of the country (ἀγρονόμοι), who must be kept under strict discipline in order to perform very responsible duties. It does not apply to farmers. Another curious rule[340] is that kidnapping of men is not to be allowed. Yet there are bought slaves, and therefore a market. That the dealer in human flesh should be despised[341] by his customers is a feeling probably older than Plato, and it lasted down to the days of _Uncle Tom’s Cabin_. In view of Plato’s acceptance of the sharp line drawn between Greek and Barbarian (and this does touch rustic slavery) it is interesting to note that he observed[342] with care the different characters of alien peoples. He also refers[343] to them without contempt in various contexts side by side with Greeks, and cites[344] their common belief as a proof of the existence of the gods. If I may venture to make a general comment on Plato’s position in relation to the labour-question, I would remark that he is already in the same difficulty which proved embarrassing to Aristotle, and which has always beset those who seek to find a theoretical justification for slavery. True, he is less definite and positive than Aristotle, but the attempt to regard a human being as both a man and a chattel is a failure. This point need not be further pressed here. But it is well to observe that agriculture is the department in which the absurdity most strikingly appears. Heavy farm-labour without prospect of personal advantage was recognized as a function that no man would willingly perform. Hence to be sent to labour on a farm was one of the punishments that awaited the offending domestic slave. Hence overseers were employed to exact from rustic slaves their daily task under the menace of severe and often cruel punishments. Hence the humaner masters (as Xenophon shews us) tried to secure more cheerful and effective service by a system of little rewards for good work. In short there was in practical life a miserable attempt to treat the slave both as a brute beast and as a moral being capable of weighing consequences and acting accordingly. One form of reward, manumission, was apparently not at this time common[345] in Greece: and it was one not easy to apply in agriculture. It was not easy to know what to do with a worn-out farm-hand, unless he was transferred to lighter duties on the farm; for he would be useless elsewhere. Sooner or later a time would come when he could no longer do anything of any value. What then? Was he charitably fed by the master[346] whom he had served, or was he cast adrift in nominal freedom? From the fragments of Comedy one may perhaps guess that the humaner practice generally prevailed. But the silence of Plato seems to suggest that to him, and indeed to Greeks generally, the point was not an important one. Even for a citizen, if destitute in old age, the state-relief was very small. We must therefore not wonder at the silence generally maintained as to the treatment of the worn-out rustic slave. Slave artisans, and those whose services were let out to other employers with reservation of a rent to their own masters, could scrape together the means of sustenance in their old age. It is possible that manumission of rustic slaves may have occasionally taken place, and that they too may have scraped together some small savings: but I can find no ground for thinking that such cases were normal or even frequent. In the _Laws_ Plato allows for the presence of freedmen[347], and frames regulations for their control, probably suggested by experience of the Attic laws and their defects. Manumission by the state[348] as reward of slave-informers is also mentioned. But there is nothing in these passages to weaken the natural inference that town slaves, and chiefly domestics, are the class to whom in practice such rules would apply. In short, we must not look to a philosopher reared in a civilization under which manual labour tended to become the burden of the unfree and the destitute, and to be despised as mean and unworthy of the free citizen, for a wholesome solution of the problem of farm-labour. XVI. THE EARLIER ATTIC ORATORS. It is convenient to take the speeches and pamphlets of the masters of Attic oratory in two sections, though there can be no exact chronological division between the two. The political background is different in the two cases. To Isocrates the urgent problem is how to compose Greek jealousies by uniting in an attack on the common enemy, Persia: to Demosthenes it is how to save the separate independence of the weary Greek states from the control of the encroaching king of Macedon. True, the disunion of Greece was not to be ended by either effort. But the difficulties of Isocrates lay largely outside Athens: the states did not want to have a leader; Philip, to whom he turned in his old age, was no more welcome to them than the rest of his proposed leaders. Demosthenes had to face the fact of a Macedonian party in Athens itself, as well as to overcome the apathy and inertia which had been growing continually since the fall of the Athenian empire. His opponents were not all mere corrupt partisans of the Macedonian king. Athens was now no longer a great power, and they knew it: Demosthenes is forgiven by historians for his splendid defiance of facts. Naturally enough, in the conflicts of political opinion from the time of the revolution of the Four Hundred to the death of Demosthenes (411-322 BC) we have few references to agriculture. Yet we know that the question of food-supply was still a pressing one for many Greek states, above all for Athens. Some of the references have a value as being contemporary. But a large part of these are references to litigation, and deal not with conditions of cultivation but with claims to property. Among the most significant facts are the importance attached to the control of the Hellespontine trade-route and the careful regulations affecting the import and distribution[349] of corn. The period on which we get some little light from passages in the earlier orators is roughly about 410-350 BC. It includes the general abandonment of agricultural enterprises abroad, owing to the loss of empire and therewith of cleruchic properties. By this shrinkage the relative importance of home agriculture must surely have been increased. Yet I cannot find a single direct statement or reference to this effect. It seems reasonable to suppose that it was not necessary to assert what was only too obvious. Corn had to be imported, and imported it was from various[350] sources of supply. To guard against failure of this supply was a chief preoccupation of the Athenian government. But that some corn was still grown in Attica is clear. Isocrates says[351] that one act of hostility to the Thirty was the destruction of corn in the country by the democrats. And in another place[352] he lays stress upon the mythical legend of the earliest introduction of corn-growing, the civilizing gift of Demeter to her favoured Attica. Yet there are signs that the culture of the olive and vine was more and more displacing cereal crops: the fig tree, often a sacred thing, was, and had long been, a regular feature of the countryside. Live stock, goats sheep and cattle, were probably abundant, though there was seldom need for an orator to mention them. If we judge by the remaining references, it would seem that land was not generally cultivated by its owners. Letting to tenant farmers[353] was the plan adopted by the state in dealing with public lands, and the collection of the rents was farmed out in its turn to capitalist speculators by public auction. We have several specimens[354] of mixed estates, described by an orator in connexion with some litigation. From these we may fairly infer that the policy of not putting all their eggs into one basket found favour with Athenian capitalists. Landed estate is in such cases but one item, side by side with house-property, mortgages and money at interest on other securities, slaves and other stock employed or leased to employers, stock in hand, specie and other valuables, mentioned in more or less detail. Consistently with this picture of landlord and tenant is the statement[355] that formerly, in the good old times before Athens entered upon her ill-starred career of imperialism, the country houses and establishments of citizens were superior to those within the city walls; so much so, that even the attraction of festivals could not draw them to town from their comfortable country-seats. Evidently a great change had come over rural Attica, if the writer is to be trusted. We are not to suppose that personal direction of a farm by the owner of the land was altogether a thing of the past. Suburban farms at least were, as we learn from Xenophon, sometimes managed by men living in the city and riding out to superintend operations and give orders. The injured husband[356] defended by =Lysias= may even have gone to and fro on foot. He does not seem to have been a wealthy man, and he may have been a αὐτουργός, taking part in the labours of his farm: that he earned his night’s rest and slept sound seems suggested by the context of his curious story. That there was no lack of interest in the prospects of agriculture generally may be inferred from various references to the different qualities of soils not only in Attica but in other parts of Greece and abroad. The smallness of the cultivable area in rocky Samothrace[357] was noted by =Antiphon=. =Isocrates= remarked[358] that in Laconia the Dorian conquerors appropriated not only the greater part of the land but the most fertile. The results of their greed and oppression had not been wholly satisfactory in the long run: adversity carried with it the peril[359] of Helot risings. No fertility of soil can compensate for the ill effects of bad policy and lack of moderation: the independence and wellbeing of cramped rocky Megara, contrasted[360] with the embarrassments of wide fruitful Thessaly, is an object-lesson. The Greek race needs to expand[361], as it did of old, when Athens led the colonization of the Asiatic seaboard. It is monstrous to try and wring contributions from (δασμολογεῖν)[362] the islanders, who have to till mountain sides for lack of room. It is in Asia that the new Greece must find relief, at the expense of Persia, whose subjects let vast areas lie idle, while the parts that they do cultivate keep them in great plenty; so fertile is the land. Attica itself was once a prosperous farming country. In the good old days, before the unhappy dissension between selfish rich and grudging poor, agriculture was one of the chief means[363] used to avert poverty and distress. Farms let at fair rents kept the people profitably employed, and so out of mischief. Men could and did[364] live well in the country: they were not jostling each other in the city to earn a bare subsistence by pitiful state-fees—beggars all—as they are doing now. The great pamphleteer may be overdrawing his picture, but that it contains much truth is certain, and it seems pretty clear that he saw no prospect of a local revival. Athens had run her course of ambitious imperialism, and the old country life, developed in long security, could not be restored. Any man who felt inclined to live a farmer’s life would, if I read the situation aright, prefer some cheap and profitable venture abroad to the heavy and unremunerative struggles of a crofter in upland Attica. Small farms in the rich lowland were I take it very seldom to be had. And, if he had the capital to work a large farm, he was under strong temptation to employ his capital in urban industries, state-contracts, loans at interest, etc, and so to distribute his risks while increasing his returns. For his main object was to make money, not to provide himself and his family with a healthy and comfortable home. The land-question in Attica is illustrated by a passage of =Isaeus= in which he refers to the fraud of a guardian. The scoundrel, he says, has robbed his nephew of the estate: he is sticking to the farm (τὸν ἀγρόν) and has given him a hill pasture[365] (φελλέα). Farming enterprise abroad had been a product of the Athenian empire with its cleruchies and colonies, and probably private ventures of individuals, unofficial but practically resting on imperial protection. The collapse of this system would ruin some settlers and speculators, and impoverish more. Even those who returned to Athens still possessed of considerable capital would not in all cases take to Attic farming, even supposing that they were willing to face its risks and that suitable farms were available. It was to Athens a most important object to retain or recover all she could of her island territories, partly no doubt in order to control the cultivable lands in them. In the peace-negotiations of 390 BC the extreme opposition party at Athens were not content[366] with the proposals by which she was to recover the islands of Lemnos Imbros and Scyros: they demanded also the restitution of the Thracian Chersonese and estates and debts elsewhere. So strong was the feeling of dependence on these investments abroad. And =Isocrates=, in depicting the evil results of imperial ambition, recalls[367] to the citizens that, instead of farming the lands of others, the Peloponnesian war had for years prevented them from setting eyes upon their own. Thus far I have said nothing of the labour-question. Orators and pamphleteers were not likely to concern themselves much with this topic, for there was nothing in the nature of an Abolitionist controversy to bring them into discussion of the subject. Slavery is in this department of Greek literature more a fundamental assumption than ever. The frequent arguments on the torture of slave witnesses and the moral value of evidence so extracted are plain proof of this. But what about agricultural labour? In the case of the sacred olive-stump we hear from =Lysias=[368] that the farm in question several times changed hands by sale. Some of the purchasers let it to tenants. The words used of the persons who actually farmed it from time to time are the usual ones, ἐγεώργει, εἰργάσατο etc. That these tenants were not merely αὐτουργοί, but employers of labour, may fairly be guessed from the case of the present tenant, accused of sacrilege. He at least is an owner of slaves, and argues[369] that he could never have been so mad as to put himself at their mercy. They would have witnessed his sacrilege, and could have won their freedom by informing against their master. Isocrates[370] draws no real distinction between serfs and slaves in the case of Sparta. Here too the slave was dangerous, though in a different way: but he was on the land. A fragment of =Isaeus=[371] runs ‘he left on the farm old men and cripples.’ The context is lost, but the persons referred to must surely be slaves: no one would employ wage-labour of this quality. In another place he casually mentions[372] the sale of a flock of goats with the goatherd. These little scraps of evidence all serve to strengthen the impression, derived from other sources, of slave-labour as the backbone of Attic agriculture in this period. To free labour there are very few references, and none of these seem to have any connexion with agriculture. This does not prove that no hired freemen were employed on farms. For special jobs, as we shall see later, they were called in: but this was only temporary employment. The μισθτοὶ or θῆτες were a despised[373] class: some of them were freedmen. The competition with slave-labour doubtless had something to do with this, and to be driven by necessity to such labour was galling to a citizen, as we have already learnt from Xenophon. XVII. ARISTOTLE. The great founder of the philosophy of experience is a witness[374] of exceptional value. He collected and recorded the facts and traditions of the past, judging them from the point of view of his own day. Stimulated by the theories of his master Plato, he also strove, by sketching the fabric of a model state, to indicate the lines on which Greek political development might be conducted with advantage. Inasmuch as ideal circumstances were rather to be desired than expected, he did not restrict his interest in the future to the mere designing of an ideal: taking states as he found them, conditioned by their situation and past history, he sought for the causes of their growth and decay, and aimed at discovering cures for their various maladies. But throughout, whether looking to the past or the future, he was guided by a characteristic moral purpose. For him ‘good living’ (τὸ εὖ ζῆν) is the aim and object of political institutions. It is in the state that man finds the possibility of reaching his full development: for he is by nature a ‘political animal.’ That is, he cannot live alone. Each step in association (household, village,) brings him nearer to that final union of the city. In this he attains the highest degree of manhood of which he (as Man, differentiated from other animals by reason and speech,) is capable. This completion of his potentialities is the proof of his true nature; that he realizes his best self in the πόλις shews that he is a πολιτικὸν ζῷον. The animal needs met in the more primitive associations are of course met in the city also. But there is something more, and this something more is a moral element, from which is derived the possibility of ‘good living,’ as contrasted with existence of a more predominantly animal character. Therefore, though in point of time the man comes before the state, in logical order the state comes first: for the man can only exist in the fulness of his nature when he is a citizen. He is by the law of his nature part of a state, potentially: as such a part he is to be regarded. As states vary, so do the several types of citizens. In the best state the qualities of good man and good citizen are identical and complete. The aim of political science (πολιτική) is to frame and employ the machinery of states so as to promote the perfection of human excellence (ἀρετή), and to train the citizens on such principles as will insure the effective working and permanence of their institutions. We may call it Aristotle’s response to the Greek yearning after a stability which was in practice never attained. To design a model state was one way of approaching the problem. But Aristotle was surely not the man to believe that such an ideal could be practically realised. To make the best of existing systems was a more promising enterprise. Now in either procedure it was evident that material equipment[375] could not be left out of account. Without food clothing and shelter men cannot live at all, and therefore cannot live well. Experience also shewed that the means of defence against enemies could not safely be neglected. It is under the head of equipment (χορηγία) that we get the philosopher’s view of the proper position of agriculture in the life of a state. We must bear in mind the general Greek conception of citizenship common to statesmen and theorists, present to Plato and Aristotle no less than to Cleisthenes or Pericles. Residence gave no claim to it. Either it was hereditary, passing from father to son on proof of citizen descent and certain religious qualifications; or it was deliberately conferred on a person or persons as a privilege. That beside the citizens there should be resident within the state[376] a number of persons, not citizens or likely to become citizens, was a necessity generally admitted. They might be free aliens, more or less legally connected with the state, or slaves public or private. These alien persons were very numerous in some states, such as Athens or Corinth. Subject or serf populations of Greek origin, as in Laconia or Thessaly, are not to be distinguished from them for the present purpose. One common mark of citizenship was the right of owning land within the territory of the state. We know that the Attic landowner must be an Athenian citizen, and such was the general rule. Who did the actual work of cultivation, or tended the flocks and herds, is another question. We have seen reason for believing that personal labour[377] of the owner on his farm had at one time been usual, and that the practice still in the fourth century BC prevailed in those parts of Greece where there had been little development of urban life. And that slave-labour was employed by farmers on a greater or less scale, according to the size of their estates, seems as certain as certain can be. In Attica the slave overseer, entrusted with the direction of a gang of slave labourers, had become[378] a well-recognized figure, and farming by deputy, as well as labouring by deputy, was an ordinary thing. Citizens resided in the city more than ever. Rich men visited their country estates to keep an eye on their overseers, or paid the penalty of their neglect. Poor citizens, resident and able to attend meetings of the Assembly, had to be kept quiet by systematic provision of fees for performance of civic functions. It may be too strong to say that squeezing the wealthy was the leading fact of politics: but there was too much of that sort of thing, and the scramble for state pay was demoralizing. Immediate personal interest tended to deaden patriotism in a state that within human memory had, whatever its faults, been the most public-spirited community among the leading states of Greece. In treating of politics, and therewith in assigning a position to agriculture, Aristotle was affected by three main influences. First, the historical; the experience of Greek states, and more particularly of Athens. Secondly, the theoretical; the various attempts of earlier philosophers, particularly of Plato, to find a solution of political problems on speculative lines. Thirdly, his own firm conviction that the lasting success of state life depended on devotion to a moral end. It will be the simplest and best plan to consider his utterances on agriculture from these three points of view. The supply of food being the first of necessities, and being in fact (as we have seen) an ever-pressing problem in Greece, it is no wonder that land-hunger, leading to wars for territory, and land-grabbing, a fertile cause of internal dissension and seditions in states, were normal phenomena of Greek history. And what happened in old Hellas was reproduced abroad, as the Greek colonists overflowed into lands beyond the seas. Once the possession of territory was secured by war, and the means of its defence organized, two problems soon presented themselves for solution. It was at once necessary to decide by what labour the land was to be cultivated. Greek colonists, desirous no doubt of an easier life than they had led in the old country, generally contrived to devolve this labour upon others at a very early stage of their establishment. Either they reduced natives to the condition of serfs, or they employed slaves, whom the profits of growing trade and commerce enabled them to procure in larger and larger numbers. Meanwhile in the mother country various systems went on side by side. There were large districts of agricultural serfage, in which a race of conquerors were supported by the labour of the conquered. In other parts independent peoples, backward in civilization, lived a free rustic life of a largely pastoral character. Others again devoted themselves more to the tillage of the soil, with or without the help of slaves. It was known that in earlier times a population of this kind in Attica had long existed, and that after the unification of Attica and the reforms of Solon it had for a time been the backbone of the Athenian state. But in fertile lowland districts there was a not unnatural tendency towards larger estates, worked by hireling or slave-labour. It seems fairly certain that in Attica before the time of Aristotle the supply of free wage-earners for farm-work was failing: the development of the city and the Peiraeus, and the growing number of those in receipt of civil and military pay, had drawn the poor citizen away from rustic labour. Nor is there reason to think that after the loss of empire there was any marked movement back to the land on the part of free labourers or even small farmers. It would rather seem that Attic land was passing into fewer hands, and that the employment of stewards or overseers, free or slave, was one of the features of a change by which the farming of land was becoming a symptom of considerable wealth. But beside the decision as to labour there was the question as to a means of checking land-monopoly. Such monopoly, resulting in the formation of a discontented urban mob, was a serious menace to the stability of a constitution. For all poor citizens to get a living by handicrafts was perhaps hardly possible; nor would the life of an artisan suit the tastes and wishes of all. Nature does (or seems to do) more for the farmer on his holding than for the artisan in his workshop, and the claim to a share of the land within the boundaries of their states had led to seditions and revolutions, ruinous and bloody, followed by ill feeling, and ever liable to recur. Colonial states, in which the first settlers usually allotted the land (or most of it) among themselves and handed down their allotments to their children, were particularly exposed to troubles of this kind. The various fortunes of families, and the coming of new settlers, early raised the land-question there in an acute form, as notoriously at Syracuse. No wonder that practical and theoretical statesmen tried to find remedies for a manifest political evil. Stability was only to be assured by internal peace. To this end two main lines of policy[379] found favour. Security of tenure was promoted by forbidding the sale of land-lots or making it difficult to encumber them by mortgages: while the prohibition of excessive acquisition[380] was a means of checking land-grabbers and interesting a larger number of citizens in the maintenance of the land-system. But there is no reason to think that measures of this kind had much success. Nor were vague traditions[381] of the equality of original land-lots in some Greek states of any great importance. Some theoretical reformers might aim at such an arrangement, but it was a vain aspiration. Indeed, regarded from the food-producing point of view, nothing like a true equality was possible in practice. Confiscation and redistribution were only to be effected at the cost of civil war, and the revered wisdom of Solon[382] had rejected such a proceeding. Communistic schemes had little attraction for the average Greek, so far as his own labour or interests might be involved: even the dream of Plato was far from a thoroughgoing communism. Of the farmer in his character of citizen[383] Aristotle had a favourable impression formed from the experience of the past. The restless activity of Assemblies frequently meeting, and with fees for attendance, was both a cause and an effect of the degeneration of democracies in his day. It meant that political issues were now at the mercy of the ignorant and fickle city-dwellers, a rabble swayed by the flattery of self-seeking demagogues. Athens was the notable instance. Yet tradition alleged (and it can hardly be doubted) that in earlier times, when a larger part of the civic body lived and worked in the country, a soberer and steadier policy[384] prevailed. The farmers, never free from responsibilities and cares, were opposed to frequent Assemblies, to attend which involved no small sacrifice of valuable time. For this sacrifice a small fee would have been no adequate compensation, and in fact they had none at all. Naturally enough Aristotle, admitting[385] that in the states of his day democratic governments were mostly inevitable, insists on the merits of the farmer-democracies of the good old times, and would welcome their revival. But the day for this was gone by, never to return. Another important point arises in connexion with the capacity of the state for war, a point seldom overlooked in Greek political speculation. In discussing the several classes out of which the state is made up, Aristotle observes[386] that individuals may and will unite in their own persons the qualifications of more than one class. So the same individuals may perform various functions: but this does not affect his argument, for the same persons may be, and often are, both hoplites and cultivators, who yet are functionally distinct parts of the state. Just below, speaking of the necessity of ‘virtue’ (ἀρετὴ) for the discharge of certain public duties (deliberative and judicial), he adds ‘The other faculties may exist combined in many separate individuals; for instance, the same man may be a soldier a cultivator and a craftsman, or even a counsellor of state or a judge; but all men claim to possess virtue, and think they are qualified to hold most offices. But the same men cannot be at once rich and poor. The common view therefore is that Rich and Poor are the true _parts_ of a state.’ That is to say, practical analysis can go no further. In another passage[387], discussing the formation of the best kind of democracy, he says ‘for the best Demos is that of farmers (ὁ γεωργικός): so it is possible to form (a corresponding?) democracy where the mass of the citizens gets its living from tillage or pasturage (ἀπὸ γεωργίας ἢ νομῆς).’ After considering the political merits of the cultivators, busy and moderate men, he goes[388] on ‘And after the Demos of cultivators the next best is that where the citizens are graziers (νομεῖς) and get their living from flocks and herds (βοσκημάτων): for the life in many respects resembles that of the tillers of the soil, and for the purposes of military campaigning these men are peculiarly hardened[389] by training, fit for active service, and able to rough it in the open.’ The adaptability of the rustic worker is further admitted[390] in a remark let fall in a part of his treatise where he is engaged in designing a model state. It is to the effect that, so long as the state has a plentiful supply of farm-labourers, it must also have plenty of seamen (ναυτῶν). Having just admitted that a certain amount of maritime commerce will be necessary, and also a certain naval power, he is touching on the manning of the fleet. The marine soldiers will be freemen, but the seamen (oarsmen) can be taken from unfree classes working on the land. Their social status does not at this stage concern us: that such labourers could readily be made into effective oarsmen is an admission to be noted. To the philosopher himself it is a comfort to believe that he has found out a way of doing without the turbulent ‘seafaring rabble’ (ναυτικὸς ὄχλος) that usually throngs seaport towns and embarrasses orderly governments. In other words, it is a relief to find that in a model state touching the sea it will not be necessary to reproduce the Peiraeus. In considering the proposals of earlier theorists for the remedy of political defects it is hardly possible and nowise needful to exhaust all the indications of dissatisfaction with existing systems. Of Euripides and Socrates, the two great questioners, enough has been said above. The reactionary Isocrates was for many years a contemporary of Aristotle. What we can no longer reproduce is the talk of active-minded critics in the social circles of Athens. It happens that Xenophon has left us a sketch of the ordinary conversations of Socrates. No doubt these were the most important examples of their kind, and his method a powerful, if sometimes irritating, stimulus to thought. But we are not to assume a lack of other questioners, acute and even sincere, more especially among men of oligarchic leanings. That Aristotle came into touch with such persons is probable from his connexion with Plato. Certain passages in the _Constitution of Athens_, in which he is reasonably suspected[391] of giving a partisan view of historical events, point to the same conclusion. We shall never know all the criticisms and suggestions of others that this watchful collector heard and noted. But it is both possible and desirable to recall those to which his own record proves him to have paid attention. Both Hippodamus and Plato based their schemes on a class-system, in which the farmer-class form a distinct body: but the former made them citizens with voting rights. Being unarmed, and so at the mercy of the military class, Aristotle held that their political rights were nugatory. In the _Republic_, Plato gave them no voice in state-affairs, but in the _Laws_ he admitted them to the franchise. While these two reformers made provision for a military force, Phaleas, ignoring relations with other states, made none. To Phaleas, equality in landed estate seemed the best means of promoting harmony and wellbeing in the community; and he would effect this equality by legal restrictions. This proposition Aristotle rejected as neither adequate nor suited to its purpose. Moral[392] influences, hard work, discretion, even intellectual activity, can alone produce the temper of moderation that promotes concord and happiness. In short, if you are to effect any real improvement, you must start from the doctrine of the Mean[393] and not trust to material equalizing. The several tenure of land-lots was generally recognized, with variations in detail; Plato in the _Laws_ abandoned the impracticable land-system of the _Republic_, and not only assigned a κλῆρος to each citizen household, but arranged it in two[394] sections, for reasons given above. The attempt to ensure the permanence of the number of land-lots and households by strict legal regulation, as some legislators had tried to do, is also a general feature of these speculations. Plato in the _Laws_ even went further, and would place rigid restrictions on acquisition of property of all kinds. All agree in the usual Greek contempt for those engaged in manual or sedentary trades. Such ‘mechanical’ (βάναυσοι) workers were held to be debased in both body and mind below the standard of ‘virtue’ required of the good soldier or citizen. Phaleas made these ‘artisans’ public slaves _de iure_: Hippodamus placed them, with the farmers, in nominal citizenship but _de facto_ bondage. Plato tolerates them because he cannot do without them. In the matter of hard bodily labour, free or slave, the position of Plato is clear. He would devolve it upon slaves; in agriculture, with a coexisting alternative system of serf-tenants. But both classes are to be Barbarians. It seems that Hippodamus meant the public, if not the private, land of his model state to be worked by slaves. Most striking is the fact that Plato in his later years combined the aim of self-sufficiency with dependence on servile labour. Commerce is, for the moral health of the state, to be strictly limited. The supply of necessary food-stuffs is to be a domestic industry, carried on by alien serfs or slaves for the most part. Such communism as exists among the Guardians in the _Republic_ is a communism of consumers who take no part in material production: and it is abandoned in the _Laws_. The above outlines must suffice as a sketch of the situation both in practice and in theory when Aristotle took the matter in hand. The working defects of Greek constitutions were obvious to many, and the incapacity of the ignorant masses in democracies was especially evident to thoughtful but irresponsible critics. Yet the selfishness of the rich in oligarchies was not ignored, and the instability of governments supported by only a minority of the citizens was an indisputable fact. The mass of citizens (that is, full members of the state according to the qualification-rules in force) had to come in somewhere, to give numerical strength to a government. How was governing capacity to be placed in power under such conditions? Experience suggested that things had been better for Athens when a larger part of her citizens lived on the land. Use could no doubt be made of this experience in case an opening for increasing the number of peasant farmers[395] should occur. But it was precisely in states where such a policy was most needed that an opening was least likely to occur. It would seem then that the only chance of improving government lay in persuading the average citizen to entrust wider powers to a specially selected body of competent men, in short to carry into politics the specializing principle[396] already developed by the advance of civilization in other departments. Now the average citizen was certain to test the plans of reformers by considering how their operation would affect cases like his own. It was therefore necessary to offer him a reassuring picture of projects of this kind, if they were to receive any hearing at all. To own a plot of land, inalienable and hereditary, was a security against indigence. To have the labour of cultivating it performed as a matter of course by others was a welcome corollary. To be relieved of mechanical drudgery by aliens and slaves was a proposal sure to conciliate Greek pride. And the resulting leisure for the enlightened discharge of the peculiarly civic functions of war and government was an appeal to self-esteem and ambition. But that the creation of a ruling class of Guardians with absolute power, such as those of Plato’s _Republic_, would commend itself to democratic Greeks, was more than any practical man could believe. Nor would the communism of those Guardians appear attractive to the favourers of oligarchy. Therefore Plato himself had to recast his scheme, and try to bring it out of dreamland by concessions to facts of Greek life. Not much was gained thereby, and the great difficulty, how to make a start, still remained. That much could be done by direct legislative action was a tradition in Greek thought fostered by tales of the achievements of early lawgivers. But to remodel the whole fabric of a state so thoroughly that an entire change should be effected in the political atmosphere in which the citizens must live and act, while the citizens themselves would be the same persons, reared in old conditions and ideas, was a project far beyond the scope of ordinary legislation. To Aristotle it seemed that the problem must be approached differently. This is not the place to discuss the two distinct lines taken by him; first, that the character of the state depends on that of its members, and secondly, that the individual only finds his true self as member of a state. The subject has been fully[397] treated, better than I could treat it; and in constructing a model there remains the inevitable difficulty, where to begin. The highest development of the individual is only attainable under the training provided by the model state, and this state is only possible as an association of model citizens. If we may conjecture Aristotle’s answer from a rule[398] laid down in the _Ethics_, he would say ‘first learn by doing, and then you can do what you have learnt to do.’ That is, effort (at first imperfect) will improve faculty, and by creating habit will develope full capacity. But even so it would remain uncertain whether the individual, starting on a career of self-improvement, is to work up to the making of a model state, or the imperfect state to start training its present citizens to perfection. The practical difficulty is there still. Nor is it removed by putting the first beginnings of training so early[399] that they even precede the infant citizen’s birth, in the form of rules for eugenic breeding. Aristotle’s procedure is to postulate favourable equipment, geographical and climatic, a population of high qualities (that is, Greek,) and then to consider how he would organize the state and train its members—if the postulated conditions were realized and he had a free hand. In this new Utopia it is most significant to observe what he adopts from historical experience and the proposals of earlier theorists, and in what respects he departs from them. It is in particular his attitude towards ownership and tillage of land, and labour in general, that is our present concern. As it follows from his doctrine of the Mean that the virtue of the state and its several members must be based on the avoidance of extremes, so it follows[400] from the moral aim of the state that its component elements are not all ‘parts’ of the state in the same strict sense. Economically, those who provide food clothing etc are parts, necessary to the existence of the community. Politically (for politics have a moral end) they are below the standard of excellence required for a share in the government of a perfect state. They cannot have the leisure or the training to fit them for so responsible a charge. Therefore they cannot be citizens. To maintain secure independence and internal order the citizens, and the citizens only, must bear arms. And, since the land must belong to the possessors of arms, none but citizens can own land. This does not imply communism. There will have to be public[401] land, from the produce of which provision will be made for the service of religion and for the common tables at which citizens will mess. To maintain these last by individual contributions would be burdensome to the poor and tend to exclude them. For rich and poor there will be. But the evil of extreme poverty will be avoided. There will be private land, out of which each citizen (that is evidently each citizen-household) will have an allotment of land. This κλῆρος will be in two[402] parcels, one near the city and the other near the state-frontier, so that issues of peace and war may not be affected by the bias of local interests. The cultivation of these allotments will be the work of subjects, either inhabitants of the district (περίοικοι) or slaves; in any case aliens, not Greeks; and in the case of slaves care must be taken not to employ too many of the same race together or such as are high-spirited. He is concerned to secure the greatest efficiency and to leave the least possible facilities for rebellion. The labourers will belong to the state or to individual citizens according to the proprietorship of the land on which they are severally employed. By these arrangements he has provided for the sustenance of those who in the true political sense are ‘parts’ of the state (πόλις), and for their enjoyment of sufficient leisure[403] to enable them to conduct its government in the paths of virtue and promote the good life (τὸ εὖ ζῆν) which is the final cause of state existence. The citizens then have the arms and the land and all political power. Among themselves they are on an equal footing, only divided functionally according to age: deliberative and judicial duties belonging to the elder men, military activities to the younger. It is impossible to overlook the influence of the Spartan system on the speculations of Aristotle as well as those of Plato. The equality of Spartan citizens was regarded as evidence[404] of a democratic element in their constitution, and we find this same theoretical equality among the full citizens at any given moment in the developing constitution of Rome. It is significant that Aristotle felt the necessity of such an equality. He remarks[405] that the permanence of a constitution depends on the will of the possessors of arms. We may observe that he seldom refers to the mercenaries so commonly employed in his day, save as his bodyguard of usurping tyrants. But in one passage[406] he speaks of oligarchies being driven to employ them at a pinch for their own security against the Demos, and of their own overthrow in consequence. Therefore he did not ignore the risk run by relying on hirelings: naturally he would prefer to keep the military service of his model state in the hands of his model citizens. But he had no belief[407] in the blind devotion of Sparta to mere preparation for warfare. Peace is the end of war, not war of peace. If you do not learn to make a proper use of peace, in the long run you will fail in war also: hence the attainment of empire was the ruin of Sparta: she had not developed the moral qualities needed for ruling in time of peace. But in his model state he seems not to make adequate provision for the numbers required in war. His agricultural labourers are not to be employed in warfare, as the Laconian Helots regularly were. He only admits them to the service of the oar, controlled by the presence of marine soldiers, who are free citizens like the poorer class of Athenians who generally served in that capacity. The servile character of rustic labour on his plan is thus reasserted, and with it the superior standing of land forces as compared with maritime. The days were past when Athenians readily served at the oar in their own triremes, cruising among the subject states and certain of an obsequious reception in every port. Hired rowers had always been employed to some extent, even by Athens: in this later period the motive power of war-gallies of naval states was more and more obtained from slaves. There was an economic analogy between farm-labour and oar-labour. The slave was forced to toil for practically no more[408] than his food: the profits of the farm and the profits of war-booty fell to be shared in either case by few. Aristotle, who was well aware of the merits of the working farmer, the peasant citizen, and recognized that such men had been a sound and stable element in the Athens of former days, would surely not have treated agriculture as a work reserved for servile hands, had he not been convinced that the old rural economy was gone and could never be revived. For, if suggestions from Sparta influenced him when designing Utopian institutions, it is no less clear that the Utopian setting—territory, city, port-town,—are merely modifications of Attica, Athens, Peiraeus. In Greece there was no state so favoured geographically, so well equipped by nature for independence prosperity and power. If a Greek community was ever to realize an artistic ideal, and live in peaceful and secure moderation a model life of dignity and virtue, it could hardly have a better chance of success than in some such advantageous position as that enjoyed by Athens. Her defects lay in her institutions, such as he viewed them at their present stage of development. These could not be approved as they stood: they needed both political and economic reform. Into the former we need not enter here: the later democracy could not but disgust one who judged merit from the standpoint of his doctrine of the Mean. Economically, we may infer from his own model project that two great changes would be required. Citizens must all have an interest in the land, though farmed by slave labour. The port-town must no longer be a centre of promiscuous commerce, thronged with a cosmopolitan population of merchants seamen dock-labourers etc and the various purveyors who catered for their various appetites. In truth the Peiraeus was a stumbling-block to him as to Plato, and probably to most men[409] who did not themselves draw income from its trade or its iniquities, or who did not derive political power from the support of its democratic citizens. To have a state ‘self-sufficing’ so far as to get its necessary food from its own territory, and to limit commerce to a moderate traffic sufficient to procure by exchange such things as the citizens wanted but could not produce (for instance[410] timber), was a philosopher’s aspiration. While proposing to restrict commercial activity as being injurious in its effect, when carried to excess, on the higher life of the state, Aristotle like Plato admits[411] that not only slaves but free aliens, permanently or temporarily resident, must form a good part of the population. He does not even[412] like Plato propose to fix a limit to the permissible term of metic residence. Apparently he would let the resident alien make his fortune in Utopia and go on living there as a non-citizen of means. But he would not allow him to hold real property within the state, as Xenophon or some other[413] writer had suggested. That the services of aliens other than slaves were required for the wellbeing of the state, is an important admission. For it surely implies that there were departments of trade and industry in which slave-labour alone was felt to be untrustworthy, while the model citizens of a model state could not properly be so employed. The power of personal interest[414] in promoting efficiency and avoiding waste is an elementary fact not forgotten by Aristotle. Now the slave, having no personal interest involved beyond escaping punishment, is apt to be a shirker and a waster. The science of the master (δεσποτική)[415], we are told, is the science of using slaves; that is, of getting out of them what can be got. It is a science of no great scope or dignity. Hence busy masters employ overseers. He suggests that some stimulus to exertion may be found in the prospect of manumission[416] for good service. This occurs again in the _Economics_, but the question of what is to become of the worn-out rustic slave is not answered by him[417] any more than it is by Plato. My belief is that, so far as farm staffs are concerned, he has chiefly if not wholly in view cases[418] of stewards overseers etc. These would be in positions of some trust, perhaps occasionally filled by freemen, and to create in them some feeling of personal interest would be well worth the masters while. Domestic slavery was on a very different footing, but it too was often a worry[419] to masters. Here manumission played an obvious and important part, and perhaps still more in the clerical staffs of establishments for banking and other businesses. These phenomena of Athenian life were interesting and suggestive. Yet Aristotle is even more reticent[420] than Plato (and with less reason) on the subject of manumission: which is matter for regret. The model state then will contain plenty of free aliens, serving the state with their talents and labour, an urban non-landholding element. They set the model citizens free for the duties of politics and war. Whether they will be bound to service in the army or the fleet, like the Athenian metics, we are not told. Nor is it easy to guess how Aristotle would have answered the question. Their main function is to carry on the various meaner or ‘mechanical’ trades and occupations, no doubt employing or not employing the help of slaves according to circumstances. All such trades were held to have a degrading effect[421] on both body and mind, disabling those practising them from attaining the highest excellence, that is the standard of model citizens in war and peace. Aristotle finds the essence of this taint in transgression of the doctrine of the Mean. Specialization carried to extremes produces professionalism which, for the sake of perfecting technical skill, sacrifices the adaptability, the bodily suppleness and strength and the mental all-round alertness and serene balance,—qualities which every intelligent Greek admired, and which Aristotle postulated in the citizens of his model community. So strong is his feeling on the point that it comes[422] out in connexion with music. The young citizens are most certainly to have musical training, but they are not to become professional performers; for this sort of technical excellence is nothing but a form of βαναυσία. If neither the farmer nor the artisan are to be citizens, and the disqualification of the latter rests on his narrow professionalism, we are tempted to inquire whether the claim of the farmer may not also have been regarded as tainted by the same disability. That agriculture afforded scope for a high degree of technical skill is a fact not missed by Aristotle. He is at pains to point out[423] that this most fundamental of industries is a source of profit if scientifically pursued, as well as a means of bare subsistence. For the exchange[424] of products (such as corn and wine) by barter soon arises, and offers great opportunities, which are only increased to an injurious extent by the invention of a metallic currency. Now the founder of the Peripatetic school was not the man to ignore the principles of scientific farming, and the labour of collecting details had for him no terrors. Accordingly he refers to the knowledge[425] required in several departments of pastoral and agricultural life. He sketches briefly the development of the industry, from the mere gathering of nature’s bounty, through the stage of nomad pasturage, to settled occupation and the raising of food-crops by tillage of the soil. But in the _Politics_ he does not follow out this topic. His preoccupation is the development of man in political life: so he dismisses further detail with the remark[426] (referring to the natural branch of χρηματιστική, the art of profit-making, which operates with crops and beasts) that in matters of this kind speculation is liberal (= worthy of a free man) but practice is not. This seems to imply that to be engrossed in the detailed study of various soils or breeds of beasts, with a view to their appropriate and profitable management, is an illiberal and cramping pursuit. He does not apply to it the term βαναυσία, and the reason probably is that the bodily defects of the sedentary artisan are not found in the working farmer. But the concentration upon mean details of no moral or political significance is common to both. That all unskilled[427] wage-earners fall under the same ban is a matter of course, hardly worth mentioning. In short, all those who depend on the custom of others for a living are subject to a sort of slavery in a greater or less degree, and unfit to be citizens. The value attached to ‘self-sufficiency’ as evidence of freedom and of not living ‘in relation to another’ (that is, in dependence[428] on another,) is in striking contrast to views that have enjoyed a great vogue in modern economic theory. Neither the man nor the state can be completely[429] self-sufficing: that Aristotle, and Plato before him, saw. Man, feeling his way upward through the household to the state, needs help. He first finds[430] a helper (I am omitting the sex-union) in the ox, the forerunner of the slave, and still in primitive rustic life the helper of the poor. Growing needs bring division of labour and exchange by barter, and so on. As a political animal he can never be quite independent as an individual, but it is the law of his being that the expanding needs which draw him into association with his fellows result in making him more of a man. Here lies a pitfall. If through progress in civilization his daily life becomes so entangled with those of other men that his freedom of action is hampered thereby, surely he has lost something. His progress has not been clear gain, and the balance may not be easy to strike. It is therefore a problem, how to find a position in which man may profit by the advantages of civilization without risking the loss of more than he has gained. Aristotle does not state it in terms so brutally frank. But the problem is there, and he does in effect attempt a solution. The presence in sufficient numbers of slaves legally unfree, and workers legally free but virtually under a defined or special kind[431] of servitude (ἀφωρισμένην τινὰ δουλείαν), is the only means by which a privileged class can get all the good that is to be got out of human progress. His model citizens are an aristocracy of merited privilege, so trained to virtue that to be governed by them will doubtless enable their subjects to enjoy as much happiness as their inferior natures can receive. This solution necessitates the maintenance of slavery[432] as existing by nature, and the adoption of economic views that have been rightly called reactionary. The student of human nature and experience unwisely departed from the safer ground of his own principles and offered a solution that was no solution at all. As the individual man cannot live in complete isolation, supplying his own needs and having no relations with other men,—for his manhood would thus remain potential and never become actual—so it will be with the state also. It must not merely allow aliens to reside in it and serve its purposes internally: it will have to stand in some sort of relations to other states. This is sufficiently asserted by the provision made for the contingency of war. But in considering how far a naval force would be required[433] in his model state he remarks ‘The scale of this force must be determined by the part (τὸν βίον) played by our state: if it is to lead a life of leadership and have dealings with other states (ἡγεμονικὸν καὶ πολιτικὸν βίον), it will need to have at hand this force also on a scale proportioned to its activities.’ Then, jealous ever of the Mean, he goes on to deny the necessity of a great ‘nautical rabble,’ in fact the nuisance of the Peiraeus referred to above. On the protection of such maritime commerce as he would admit he does not directly insist; but, knowing Athens so well, no doubt he had it in mind. Another illustration of the virtuous Mean may be found in the rules of education. The relations of the quarrelsome Greek states had been too often hostile. The Spartan training had been too much admired. But it was too one-sided, too much a glorification of brute force, and its inadequacy had been exposed since Leuctra. Its success had been due to the fact that no other state had specialized in preparation for war as Sparta had done. Once others took up this war-policy in earnest, Sparta’s vantage was gone. This vantage was her all. Beaten in war, she had no reserve of non-military qualities to assuage defeat and aid a revival. The citizens of Utopia must not be thus brutalized. Theirs must be the true man’s courage (ἀνδρία)[434], as far removed from the reckless ferocity of the robber or the savage as from cowardice. It is surely not too much to infer[435] that military citizens of this character were meant to pursue a public policy neither abject nor aggressive. It is in connexion with bodily training that we come upon views that throw much light on the position of agricultural labour. There is, he remarks, a general agreement[436] that gymnastic exercises do promote manly courage, or as he puts it below ‘health and prowess.’ But at the present time there is, in states where the training of the young is made a special object, a tendency[437] to overdo it: they bring up the boys as regular athletes, producing a habit of body that hinders the shapely development and growth of the frame. The Thebans in particular are thought to be meant. His own system does not thus run to excess. Gentle exercises gradually extended will develop fine bodies to match fine souls. Now his labouring classes receive no bodily training of the kind. The frame of the artisan is left to become cramped and warped by the monotonous movements of his trade. So too the farm-labourer is left to become hard and stiff-jointed. Neither will have the supple agility needed for fighting as an art. We have seen that this line had already been taken by Plato in the _Republic_; indeed it was one that a Greek could hardly avoid. Yet the shock-tactics of heavy columns were already revolutionizing Greek warfare as much as the light troops organized by Iphicrates. Were Aristotle’s military principles not quite up to date? Philip made the Macedonian rustic into a first-rate soldier. But the northern tribesman was a free man. The rustic of the model state was to be a slave or serf: therefore he could not be a soldier. To keep him in due subjection he must not be allowed to have arms or trained to use them skilfully. This policy is nothing more or less than the precautionary device[438] resorted to in Crete; the device that he twits Plato with omitting in the _Republic_, though without it his Guardians would not be able to control the landholding Husbandmen. And yet the weakness of the Cretan system is duly noted[439] in its place. The truth is, Aristotle was no more exempt from the worship of certain ill-defined political terms than were men of far less intellectual power. The democrat worshipped ‘freedom’ in the sense[440] of ‘do as you please,’ the mark of a freeborn citizen. The philosopher would not accept so crude a doctrine, but he is none the less determined to mark off the ‘free’ from the unfree, socially as well as politically. Adapting an institution known in Thessalian[441] cities, he would have two open ‘places’ (ἀγοραί) in his model state; one for marketing and ordinary daily business, the other reserved for the free citizens. Into the latter no tradesman (βάναυσον) or husbandman (γεωργόν), or other person of like status (τοιοῦτον), is to intrude—unless the magistrates summon him to attend. It is a pity that Aristotle has left us no estimate of the relative numerical strength of the various classes of population in Utopia. He neglects this important detail more completely even than Plato. Yet I fancy that an attempt to frame such an estimate would very soon have exposed the visionary and unpractical nature of the whole fabric constructed on his lines. It would, I believe, have been ultimately wrecked on the doctrine of the Mean. Restriction of commerce had to be reconciled with financial strength, for he saw that wealth was needed[442] for both peace and war. This εὐπορία could only arise from savings, the accumulated surplus of industry. The labouring classes would therefore have to provide not only their own sustenance etc and that of their rulers, but a considerable surplus as well. This would probably necessitate so numerous a labouring population that the citizens would have enough to do in controlling them and keeping them to their work. To increase the number of citizens would add to the unproductive[443] mouths, and so on. Foreign war would throw everything out of gear, and no hiring of mercenaries is suggested. It is the carrying to excess of the principle of specialization that demands excess of ‘leisure,’ nothing less than the exemption of all citizens (all persons that count, in short,) from manual toil. Yet it was one who well knew the political merits of peasant farmers that was the author of this extravagant scheme for basing upon a servile agriculture the entertainment of a hothouse virtue. The general effect produced by reviewing the evidence of Aristotle on agriculture and the labour-question is that he was a witness of the decay of the working-farmer class, and either could not or would not propose any plan for reviving it. The rarity of the words αὐτουργὸς and cognates is not to be wondered at in his works. They do not occur in the _Politics_. The _Rhetoric_ furnishes two[444] passages. One refers to the kinds of men especially liable to unfair treatment (ἀδικία) because it is not worth their while to waste time on legal proceedings, citing as instances aliens and αὐτουργοί. Rustics may be included, but are not expressly mentioned. The other[445] refers to qualities that men generally like and respect, as justice. ‘Popular opinion finds this character in those who do not make their living out of others; that is, who live of their own labour, for instance those who live by farming (ἀπὸ γεωργίας), and, in other pursuits, those most of all who work with their own hands.’ Here we have the working farmer expressly cited as a type worthy of respect. But to single him out thus certainly does not suggest that the type was a common one. The great Aristotelian index of Bonitz supplies three[446] more passages, all from the little treatise _de mundo_. They occur in a special context. God, as the cause that holds together the universe, is not to be conceived as a power enduring the toil of a self-working laborious animal (αὐτουργοῦ καὶ ἐπιπόνου ζῴου). Nor must we suppose that God, seated aloft in heaven and influencing all things more or less directly in proportion as they are near or far, pervades and flits through the universe regardless of his dignity and propriety to carry on the things of earth with his own hands (αὐτουργεῖ τὰ ἐπὶ γῆς). The third passage is in a comparison, illustrating the divine power by the Persian system, in which the Great King sitting on his throne pervades and directs his vast empire through his ministering agents. Such _a fortiori_ is the government of God. XVIII. THE LATER ATTIC ORATORS. It has already been remarked that no clear chronological line can be drawn to divide this famous group into two sections, but that there is nevertheless a real distinction between the period of hostility to Persia and that in which fear of Macedon was the dominant theme. The jealousies and disunion of the Greek states are the background of both. Isocrates[447] had appealed in vain for Greek union as a means of realizing Greek ambitions and satisfying Greek needs. Demosthenes, so far as he did succeed in combining Greek forces to resist the encroachments of Philip, succeeded too late. In the fifth century BC we see the Greek states grouped under two great leading powers. The conflict of these powers leaves one of them the unquestioned head of the Greek world. The next half century witnessed the fall of Sparta, earned by gross misgovernment, and the rise and relapse of Thebes. In the same period Athens made another bid for maritime empire, but this second Alliance had failed. Isolation of Greek states was now the rule, and the hopelessness of any common policy consummated the weakness of exhaustion. At Athens the old fervent patriotism was cooling down, as we learn from the growing reluctance to make sacrifices in the country’s cause. Demos was no longer imperial, and he was evidently adapting himself to a humbler role. His political leaders had to secure his food-supply and provide for his festivals, and this out of a sadly shrunken income. To provide efficient fighting forces on land and sea was only possible by appropriating the Festival fund (θεωρικόν), and the mob of Athens was unwilling either to fight in person or to surrender its amusements in order to hire mercenaries. Too often the result was that mercenaries, hired but not paid, were left to pillage friend and foe alike for their own support. The truth is, individualism was superseding old-fashioned patriotism. The old simple views of life and duty had been weakened by the questionings of many thinkers, and no new moral footing had yet been found to compete with immediate personal interest. Athens was the chief centre of this decline, for the intellectual and moral influences promoting it were strongest there: but it was surely not confined to Athens. The failure of Thebes after the death of Epaminondas was one of many symptoms of decay. She had overthrown Sparta, but she could not herself lead Greece: her utmost achievement was a fatal equilibrium of weak states, of which the Macedonian was soon to take full advantage. And everywhere, particularly in rural districts, the flower of the male population was being drained away, enlisting in mercenary armies, lured by the hope of gain and willing to escape the prospect of hard and dreary lives at home. In short, each was for his own hand. Such an age was not one to encourage the peaceful and patient toil of agriculture. The great cities, above all Athens, needed cheap corn. Their own farmers could not supply this, and so importation[448] was by law favoured, and as far as possible inforced. Thus times of actual dearth seldom occurred, and home-grown corn was seldom a paying crop. Thrown back all the more on cultivation of the olive and vine the products of which were available for export, the farmer needed time for the development of his planted (πεφυτευμένη) land, and the waiting for returns necessitated a larger capital. He was then exposed to risk of greater damage in time of war. For his capital was irretrievably sunk in his vineyard or oliveyard, and its destruction would take years to repair—that is, more waiting and more capital. This was no novel situation. But its effect in reducing the number of small peasant farmers was probably now greater than ever. Not only were mercenary armies relentless destroyers and robbers (having no fear of reprisals and no conventional scruples to restrain them), but their example corrupted the practice of citizen forces. Even if no fighting took place in this or that neighbourhood, the local farmers[449] must expect to be ruined by the mere presence of their own defenders. When we bear in mind the risks of drought in some parts or floods in others, the occasional losses of live stock, and other ordinary misfortunes, it is fair to imagine that the farmer of land needed to be a man of substance, not liable to be ruined by a single blow. And the sidelights thrown on the subject by the indirect references in the orators are quite consistent with this view. The loss of the Thracian Chersonese in the disasters of 405 BC had not only dispossessed the Athenian settlers there, but made that region a source of continual anxiety to Athens. She was no longer in secure control of the strait through which the corn-ships passed from the Pontus. A considerable revival of her naval power enabled her in 365 to occupy the island of Samos and to regain a footing in the Chersonese. To both of these cleruchs were sent. But the tenure of the Chersonese was disputed by Thracian princes, and it was necessary to send frequent expeditions thither. The success or failure of these enterprises is recorded in histories of Greece. The importance of the position justified great efforts to retain it. Greek cities on the Propontis and Bosporus, not Thracian chiefs only, gave trouble. If short of supplies, as in 362, they were tempted to lay hands[450] on the corn-ships, and consume what was meant for Athens. But the result of much confused warfare was that in 358 the Chersonese became once more a part of the Athenian empire. Even after the dissolution of that empire in the war with the Allies 358-6, part of the peninsula still remained Athenian. But it was now exposed to the menace of the growing power of Macedon under Philip. To induce the Demos, who needed the corn, to provide prompt and adequate protection for the gate of Pontic trade, was one of the many difficult tasks of Demosthenes. Demosthenes is by far the most important witness to the circumstances of his age; though much allowance must be made for bias and partisan necessities, this does not greatly affect references to agricultural matters. Unfortunately his supreme reputation caused the works of other authors to be attributed to him in later times. Thus the total number of speeches passing under his name is a good deal larger than that of the undoubtedly genuine ones. But, if we set aside a few mere forgeries of later rhetoricians, the speeches composed by contemporary authors are no less authorities for stray details of rural life than those of Demosthenes himself. It is therefore not necessary to discuss questions of authorship, on which even the ablest specialists are often not agreed. But it is of interest to bear in mind that we are gleaning little items, from a strictly Athenian point of view, bearing on the condition of the same Athens and Attica as came under the cool observation of the outsider Aristotle. The lives of Aristotle and Demosthenes, from 384-3 to 322 BC, are exactly contemporary. And, as in matters of politics the speeches of the orators often illustrate the philosopher’s criticisms of democracy, so it is probable that the matters of food-supply and rural economy, referred to by speakers for purposes of the moment, were among the particulars noted by Aristotle when forming his conclusions on those subjects. The right of owning real estate in Attica being reserved for Athenian citizens, aliens were debarred from what was sometimes a convenient form[451] of investment. If the possible return on capital so placed was lower than in more speculative ventures, the risk of total loss was certainly much less, of partial loss comparatively small. Moreover it gave the owner a certain importance[452] as a citizen of known substance. It enabled a rich man to vary[453] his investments, as references to mixed estates shew. And he had a choice of policies in dealing with it: he could reside on his own property and superintend the management himself, or entrust the charge to a steward, or let it to a tenant. And, if at any time he wanted ready money for some purpose, he could raise it by a mortgage on favourable terms. If the land lay in a pleasant spot not too far from the city, he was tempted to make himself a ‘place in the country’ for his own occasional retirement and the entertainment of friends. That landowning presented itself to Athenians of the Demosthenic period in the aspects just sketched is manifest from the speeches belonging to the years from 369 to 322 BC. Of the small working farmer there is very little trace. But that some demand for farms existed seems indicated by the cleruchs sent to the Chersonese and Samos. No doubt these were meant to serve as resident garrisons at important points, and it is not to be supposed that they were dependent solely on their own labour for tillage of their lots. Another kind of land-hunger speaks for itself. The wars and wastings of this period placed large areas of land at the disposal of conquerors. Olynthian, Phocian, Boeotian territory was at one time or another confiscated and granted out as reward for this or that service. No reproaches of Demosthenes are more bitter than the references to these cruel and cynical measures of Philip’s corrupting policy. Individuals shared[454] these and other spoils: the estates of Aeschines and Philocrates in Phocis, and later of Aeschines in Boeotia, are held up as the shameful wages of treachery. These estates can only have been worked by slave-labour under stewards, for politicians in Athens could not reside abroad. They are specimens of the large-scale agriculture to which the circumstances of the age were favourable. A dispute arising out of a case of challenge to exchange properties[455] (ἀντίδοσις), in order to decide which party was liable for performance of burdensome state-services, gives us a glimpse of a large holding in Attica. It belongs to 330 BC or later. The farm is an ἐσχατιά, that is a holding near[456] the frontier. It is stated to have been more than 40 stadia (about 5 miles) in circuit. The farmstead included granaries (οἰκήματα) for storing the barley and wheat which were evidently the chief crops on this particular farm. It included also a considerable vineyard producing a good quantity of wine. Among the by-products was brushwood (ὕλη, not timber ξύλα)[457]. The faggots were carried to market (Athens, I presume) on the backs of asses. The ass-drivers are specially mentioned. The returns from the faggot-wood are stated at over 12 drachms a day. The challenging speaker declares that this estate was wholly unencumbered: not a mortgage-post (ὅρος) was to be seen. He contrasts his own position, a man who has lost most of his property in a mining venture, though he has even toiled with his own[458] hands, with that of the landlord (I presume not an αὐτουργός) enriched by the late rise of the prices of corn and wine. He may be grossly exaggerating the profits of this border-farm: his opponent would probably be able to cite very different facts from years when the yield had been poor or prices low. Still, to impress an Athenian jury, the picture drawn in this speech must at least have seemed a possible one. The labour on the farm would be mainly that of slaves: but to this I shall return below. In another speech[459] we hear of a farmer in the far north, on the SE Crimean coast. The sea-carriage of 80 jars of sour wine is accounted for by his wanting it for his farm-hands (ἐργάται). Slaves are probably meant, but we cannot be sure of it in that slave-exporting part of the world. At any rate he was clearly farming on a large scale. If he was, as I suppose, a Greek settler, the case is an interesting one. For it would seem to confirm the view of Isocrates, that Greek expansion was a feasible solution of a felt need, provided suitable territory for the purpose could be acquired; and that of Xenophon, when he proposed to plant necessitous Greeks in Asiatic lands taken from Persia. The type of farmer known to us from Aristophanes, who works a holding of moderate size, a man not wealthy but comfortable, a well-to-do peasant proprietor who lives among the slaves whose labour he directs, is hardly referred to directly in the speeches of this period. Demosthenes[460] in 355 BC makes the general remark ‘You cannot deny that farmers who live thrifty lives, and by reason of rearing children and domestic expenses and other public services have fallen into arrear with their property-tax, do the state less wrong than the rogues who embezzle public funds.’ But he does not say that there were many such worthy citizen-farmers, nor does he (I think) imply it. In a similar passage[461] three years later he classes them with merchants, mining speculators, and other men in businesses, as better citizens than the corrupt politicians. Such references are far too indefinite, and too dependent on the rhetorical needs of the moment, to tell us much. In one of the earlier private speeches[462] Demosthenes deals with a dispute of a kind probably common. It is a neighbours’ quarrel over a wall, a watercourse, and right of way. To all appearance the farms interested in the rights and wrongs were not large holdings. They were evidently in a hilly district. The one to protect which from floods the offending wall had been built had at one time belonged to a ‘town-bred[463] man’ who disliked the place, neglected it, and sold it to the father of Demosthenes’ client. There is nothing to shew that this farm was the whole of the present owner’s estate: so that it is hardly possible to classify him economically with any exactitude. We do by chance learn that he had a staff of slaves, and that vines and fig-trees grew on the land. The author of one of the earlier speeches[464] (between 368 and 365 BC) furnishes much more detail in connexion with estates of what was apparently a more ordinary type. Neighbours are quarrelling as usual, and we have of course only _ex parte_ statements. The farms, worked by slave-labour, produce vines and olives and probably some corn also. The enclosure and tending of valuable plants is represented as kept up to a high standard. Incidentally we learn that the staff used to contract[465] for the gathering of fruit (ὀπώραν) or the reaping and carrying of other crops (θέρος ἐκθερίσαι), clearly on other estates. The contract was always made by a person named, who is thereby proved to have been the real owner of these slaves,—a point in the case. According to his own account, the speaker had for some time been settled (κατῴκουν) on the estate. That is, he had a house there and would sometimes be in residence. The amenities of the place are indicated by the mention of his young rose-garden, which was ravaged by trespassers, as were his olives and vines. The house from which they carried off ‘all the furniture, worth more than 20 minas,’ seems to have been in Athens, and the mention of the lodging-house (συνοικία) that he mortgaged for 16 minas shews that his estate was a mixed one. Country houses were no exceptional thing. A mining speculator speaks of an opponent[466] as coming to his house in the country and intruding into the apartments of his wife and daughters. A party protesting against being struck off the deme-register says[467] that his enemies made a raid on his cottage in the country (οἰκίδιον ἐν ἀγρῷ). He is probably depreciating the house, in order not to have the dangerous appearance of a rich man. We hear also of farms near Athens, the suburban position of which no doubt enhanced their value. In the large mixed estate inherited and wasted by Timarchus, =Aeschines=[468] mentions (344 BC) a farm only about a mile and a half from the city wall. The spendthrift’s mother entreated him to keep this property at least: her wish was to be buried there. But even this he sold, for 2000 drachms (less than £80). In the speech against Euergus and Mnesibulus the plaintiff tells[469] how his opponents raided his farm and carried off 50 soft-wooled sheep at graze, and with them the shepherd and all the belongings of the flock, also a domestic slave, etc. This was not enough: they pushed on into the farm and tried to capture the slaves, who fled and escaped. Then they turned to the house, broke down the door that leads to the garden (κῆπον), burst in upon his wife and children, and went off with all the furniture that remained in the house. The speaker particularly points out[470] that he had lived on the place from childhood, and that it was near the race-course (πρὸς τῷ ἱπποδρόμῳ). It must then have been near Athens. The details given suggest that it was a fancy-farm, devoted to the production of stock valued for high quality and so commanding high prices. The garden seems to be a feature of an establishment more elegant than that of a mere peasant farmer. It corresponds to the rose-bed in a case referred to above: =Hyperides=[471] too mentions a man who had a κῆπος near the Academy, doubtless a pleasant spot. The farm in the plain (ὀ ἐν πεδίῳ ἀγρός)[472] belonging to Timotheus, and mortgaged by him to meet his debts, is only mentioned in passing (362 BC) with no details: we can only suppose it to have been an average holding in the rich lowland. A few passages require separate consideration in connexion with the labour-question. In the speech on the Crown (330 BC) Demosthenes quotes[473] Aeschines as protesting against being reproached with the friendship (ξενίαν) of Alexander. He retorts ‘I am not so crazy as to call you Philip’s ξένος or Alexander’s φίλος, unless one is to speak of reapers or other wage-earners as the friends of those who hire them ... but on a former occasion I called you the hireling (μισθωτὸν) of Philip, and I now call you the hireling of Alexander.’ Here the reaper (θεριστής) is contemptuously referred to as a mere hireling. Such was the common attitude towards poor freemen who lived by wage-earning labour,—θῆτες in short. But is it clear that the μισθωτὸς is necessarily a freeman? The passage cited above from an earlier speech makes it doubtful. If a gang of slaves could contract to cut and carry a crop (θέρος μισθοῖντο ἐκθερίσαι), their owner acting for them, surely they were strictly μισθωτοὶ from the point of view of the farmer who hired them. They were ἀνδράποδα μισθοφοροῦντα, to use the exact Greek phrase. In the speech against Timotheus an even more notable passage[474] (362 BC) occurs. Speaking of some copper said to have been taken in pledge for a debt, the speaker asks ‘Who were the persons that brought the copper to my father’s house? Were they hired men (μισθωτοί), or slaves (οἰκέται)?’ Here, at first sight, we seem to have the hireling clearly marked off as free. For the argument[475] proceeds ‘or which of my slave-household (τῶν οἰκετῶν τῶν ἐμῶν) took delivery of the copper? If slaves brought it, then the defendant ought to have handed them over (for torture): if hired men, he should have demanded our slave who received and weighed it.’ Strictly speaking, slaves, in status δοῦλοι, are οἰκέται[476] in relation to their owner, of whose οἰκία they form a part. But if _A_ in a transaction with _B_ employed some slaves whom he hired for the purpose from _C_ (_C_ being in no way personally involved in the case), would not these[477] be μισθωτοί, in the sense that they were not his own οἰκέται, but procured by μισθὸς for the job? It is perhaps safer to assume that in the case before us the hirelings meant by the speaker are freemen, but I do not think it can be considered certain. Does not their exemption from liability to torture prove it? I think not, unless we are to assume that the slaves hired from a third person, not a party in the case, could be legally put to question. That this was so, I can find no evidence, nor is it probable. The regular practice was this: either a party offered his slaves for examination under torture, or he did not. If he did not, a challenge (πρόκλησις) was addressed to him by his opponent, demanding their surrender for the purpose. But to demand the slaves of any owner, not a party in the case, was a very different thing, and I cannot discover the existence of any such right. I am not speaking of state trials, in which the claims of the public safety might override private interests, but of private cases, in which the issue lay between clearly defined adversaries. In default of direct and unquestionable authority, I cannot suppose that an Athenian slaveowner could be called upon to surrender his property (even with compensation for any damage thereto) for the purposes of a case in which he was not directly concerned. Stray references to matters of land-tenure, such as the letting of sacred lands[478] (τεμένη) belonging to a deme, are too little connected with our subject to need further mention here. And a curious story[479] of some hill-lands (ὄρη) in the district of Oropus, divided by lot among the ten Tribes, apparently as tribal property, is very obscure. Such allotments would probably be let to tenants. What is more interesting in connexion with agriculture is the references to farming as a means of getting a livelihood, few and slight though they are. Demosthenes[480] in 349 BC tells the Assembly that their right policy is to attack Philip on his own ground, not to mobilize and then await him in Attica: such mobilization would be ruinous to ‘those of you who are engaged in farming.’ The speech against Phaenippus[481] shews us an establishment producing corn and wine and firewood and alleged to be doing very well owing to the prices then ruling in the market. We have also indications of the presence of dealers who bought up crops, no doubt to resell at a profit. From the expressions[482] ὀπώραν πρίασθαι and ὀπωρώνης it might seem that fruit-crops in particular were disposed of in this way. Naturally a crop of this sort had to be gathered quickly, and a field gang would be employed—slaves or freemen, according to circumstances. For that in these days poverty was driving many a free citizen[483] to mean and servile occupations for a livelihood, is not only a matter of certain inference but directly affirmed by Demosthenes in 345 BC. Aeschines[484] in 344 also denies that the practice of any trade to earn a bare living was any political disqualification to a humble citizen of good repute. From such poor freemen were no doubt drawn casual hands at critical moments of farm life, analogues of the British hop-pickers[485]. But, with every allowance for possible occasions of employing free labour, particularly in special processes where servile apathy was plainly injurious, the farm-picture in general as depicted in these speeches is one of slave-labour. And this suggests to me a question in reference to the disposal of Greek slaves. For the vast majority of slaves[486] in Greece, whether urban or rustic, were certainly Barbarians of several types for several purposes. The sale of the people of captured cities had become quite an ordinary thing. Sparta had sinned thus in her day of power, and the example was followed from time to time by others. The cases of Olynthus in 348 BC and Thebes in 335 fall in the present period. Aeschines mentions[487] some captives working chained in Philip’s vineyard; but these can only have been few. The mass were sold, and a large sum of money realized thereby. At Thebes the captives sold are said to have numbered 30,000. What markets absorbed these unhappy victims? I can only guess that many found their way to Carthage and Etruria. XIX. THE MACEDONIAN PERIOD 322-146 BC. The deficiency of contemporary evidence illustrating the agricultural conditions of this troubled age in the Greek world makes it necessary to combine the various scraps of information in a general sketch. Hellas had now seen its best days. The break-up of the great empire of Alexander did not restore to the little Greek states the freedom of action which had been their pride and which had been a main influence in keeping up their vitality. The outward and visible sign of their failure was the impossibility of an independent foreign policy. The kingdoms of Alexander’s Successors might rise and fall, but Greek states could do little to affect the results. A new world was opened to Greek enterprise in the East, and Greek mercenaries and Greek secretaries traders and officials were carrying the Greek language and civilization into wide lands ruled by Macedonian kings. But these were individuals, attracted by the prospect of a gainful military or civil career. Either they settled abroad, and drained Greece of some of her ablest sons; or they returned home enriched, and formed an element of the population contrasting painfully with those who had stayed behind. In either case it seems certain that the movement tended to lower the standard of efficiency and patriotism in their native states. Citizen armies became more and more difficult to maintain. The influx of money no longer locked up in Oriental treasuries only served to accentuate the old social distinction[488] of Rich and Poor. Men who came back with fortunes meant to enjoy themselves, and they did: the doings of the returned soldier of fortune were proverbial, and a fruitful theme for comic poets. But the spectacle of wanton luxury was more likely to lure enterprising individuals into ventures abroad than to encourage patient industry at home. And there is little doubt that such was the general result. The less vigorous of the poor citizens remained, a servile mob, ever ready by grovelling compliments to earn the bounties of kings. Political decay and changes of social circumstance were accompanied by new movements in the sphere of thought. It is generally observed that in this period philosophy more and more appeals to the individual man, regardless of whether he be a citizen or not. How far this movement arose out of changed conditions may be open to difference of opinion: but, as usual in human affairs, what began as an effect continued to operate as a cause. The rapid spread of the Greek tongue and Greek civilization eastwards, known as Hellenizing, was a powerful influence promoting cosmopolitan views. Alien blood could no longer form an unsurmountable barrier: the Barbarian who spoke Greek and followed Greek ways had won a claim to recognition, as had already been foreseen by the mild sincerity[489] of Isocrates. But these half-Greeks, some of them even of mixed blood, were now very numerous. They competed with genuine Hellenes at a time when the pride of the genuine Hellene was ebbing: even in intellectual pursuits, in which the Hellene still claimed preeminence, they were serious and eventually successful rivals. It is no wonder that earlier questionings took new life, and that consciousness of common humanity tended to modify old-established sentiment, even on such subjects as the relation of master and slave. It was not merely that the philosophic schools from different points of view, Cynic Cyrenaic Stoic Epicurean, persistently regarded man as a mental and moral unit, whatever his political or social condition might be. The fragments and echoes of the later Comedy suffice to shew how frankly the slave could be presented on the public stage as the equal, or more than equal, of his master. The foundation of new cities by the Successor-kings was another influence acting in the same direction. These were either royal capitals or commercial centres, or both, like Alexandria. Others were important from their situation as strategic posts, such as Lysimacheia by the Hellespont or Demetrias commanding the Pagasaean gulf. Competing powers could not afford to wait for gradual growth; so great efforts were made to provide populations for the new cities without delay. Sometimes multitudes were transplanted wholesale from older communities. In any case no strict inquiry into the past condition of transplanted persons can have taken place. In Sicily we know that Syracuse had become the one great centre of what remained of Greek power in that island. But, what with incorporation of foreign mercenaries and enfranchisement of slaves, what with massacres of Greek citizens, the population of Syracuse was a mongrel mob. Such, if in a less degree, were the populations of the new cities of the kings. There was nothing national about them. In some, for instance Alexandria, a rabble wavering between apathy and ferocity was a subject of concern to the government. Others were more noted as centres of industry: such were some of those in Asia Minor. But common to them all was the condition, a momentous change from a Greek point of view, of dependence. They were not states, with a policy of their own, but parts of this or that kingdom. However little their overlord might interfere with their internal affairs, still it was he, not they, that stood in relation to the world outside. They were not independent: but as a rule they were prosperous. In the new world of great state-units they filled a necessary place, and beside them the remaining state-cities of the older Greek world were for the most part decaying. These for their own protection had to conform their policy to that of some greater power. Patriotism had little material in which to find expression: apathy and cosmopolitan sentiment were the inevitable result. Such was in particular the case at Athens, which remained eminent as a centre of philosophic speculation, attracting inquirers and students from all parts. But the ‘fierce democraty’ of her imperial days was a thing of the past, and she lived upon her former glories and present subservience. If academic distinction and cosmopolitanism went easily together, commercial activity was hardly likely to foster jealous state-patriotism of the old sort. The leading centre of commerce in the eastern Mediterranean was Rhodes. The island city was still a state. Its convenient position as a port of call on the main trade routes gave it wealth. Its usefulness to merchants from all parts enabled it to play off the kings against one another, and to enjoy thereby much freedom of action. Its steady conservative government and its efficient navy made it a welcome check on piracy in time of peace, and a valued ally in war. It was also a considerable intellectual centre. No power was so closely in touch with international questions generally, or so often employed as umpire in disputes. Till an unfortunate blunder at the time of the war with Perseus (168 BC) put an end to their old friendship with Rome, and led to their humiliation, the wise policy of the Rhodians preserved their independence and earned them general goodwill. But it was surely not in a state thriving on trade and traffic that the old narrow Greek patriotism could find a refuge. It is not necessary to refer to more cases in particular. The main point of interest is that in this age of cities and extensive maritime intercourse urban life was generally developing and rural life shrinking. Now it had been, and still was, the case that mixture of population normally took place in active cities, especially in seaport towns. It was in quiet country towns and hamlets that native purity of blood was most easily preserved. If the general outline of circumstances has been fairly sketched in the above paragraphs, we should expect to find that agriculture on a small scale was not prospering in this period. Unhappily there is hardly any direct evidence on the point. Even indirect evidence is meagre and sometimes far from clear. One notable symptom of the age is seen in the rise of bucolic poetry. This is not a rustic growth, the rude utterance of unlettered herdsmen, but an artificial product of town-dwelling poets, who idealize the open-air life to amuse town-bred readers somewhat weary of the everlasting streets. In the endeavour to lend an air of reality to scenes of rural life, it was convenient to credit the rustics (shepherds goatherds etc) with a grossness of amorosity that may perhaps be exaggerated to suit the taste of urban readers. Of this tendency the idylls of Theocritus furnish many instances. We need not accept them as accurate pictures of the life of herds and hinds in Sicily or elsewhere, but they give us some notion of the ideas of rural life entertained by literary men of the Alexandrian school. Beside the guardians of flocks and herds with their faithful dogs, their flutes and pan-pipes, idling in the pleasant shade and relieving the tiresome hours with musical competition, we have the hinds ploughing mowing or busy with vintage and winepress. Some are evidently freemen, others are slaves; and we hear of overseers. There is milking and making of cheese, and woodmen[490] are not forgotten. The bloom of flowers, the murmur of streams, the song of birds, the whisper of the refreshing breeze, form the setting of these rural scenes, and might almost persuade us that we are privileged spectators of a genuine golden age. But the sayings and doings of the rustics undeceive us. And the artificiality of this poetry is further betrayed by that of the panegyric and pseudo-epic poems of the same author. His admiration of Hiero[491] of Syracuse may be mainly sincere, but his praises of Ptolemy[492] Philadelphus are the utterances of a courtier. His excursions into the region of mythology are brief, for the reading public of his day could not stand long epics on the adventures[493] of Heracles or the Dioscuri. And the literary apparatus is antiquarian, a more or less direct imitation of the old Homeric diction, but unable to reproduce the varied cadences. It is generally remarked that the genius of Theocritus finds its happiest and liveliest expression in the fifteenth idyll, which depicts urban scenes. In this respect that idyll may be compared with the mimes of =Herodas=, which illustrate, probably with truth, the shadier sides of urban life in cities of the period, which Theocritus ignores. It is in a miniature epic[494] of mythological setting that we find the most direct references to tillage of the soil combined with the keeping of live stock—general agriculture, in short. We read of the plowman[495] in charge of the crops, of the hard-working diggers[496] (φυτοσκάφοι οἱ πολυεργοί), of the herdsmen[497], of an overseer[498] or steward (αἰσυμνήτης). The staff seems to consist entirely of slaves. But it is not easy to say how far the picture is meant as a reproduction of the primitive labour-conditions of the traditional Heroic age, how far the details may be coloured by the conditions of Theocritus’ own day. In the Idylls we find a shepherd, free presumably, in charge of a flock the property[499] of his father. On the other hand ἐριθακὶς in one passage[500] seems not to be a wage-earner, but a black slave. The ἐργάτης of the tenth idyll[501] is probably a free man, but he is enamoured of a slave girl. No conclusion can be drawn from a reference[502] to coarse but filling food meant for labourers. Roughness and a certain squalor are conventional rustic attributes: a town-bred girl repulses the advances of a herdsman[503] with the remark ‘I’m not used to kiss rustics, but to press town-bred lips,’ and adds further detail. Nor is the mention of Thessalian[504] serfs (πενέσται) in the panegyric of Hiero anything more than a part of the poet’s apparatus. And the reference[505] to the visit of Augeas to his estate, followed by a comment on the value of the master’s personal attention to his own interests, is a touch of truism common to all peoples in every age. To Theocritus, the one poet of learned Alexandria who had high poetic genius, the life and labour of farmers was evidently a matter of little or no concern. He could hardly idealize the Egyptian fellah. And the one passage[506] in which he directly illustrates the position of the Greek contemporary farmer is significant. Discontented owing to a disappointment in love, the man is encouraged by his friend to enter the service of the generous Ptolemy as a mercenary soldier. One or two small references may be gleaned from the _Characters_ of Aristotle’s successor =Theophrastus=. That the bulk of these typical portraits are drawn from town-folk is only to be expected, but this point is not to be pressed overmuch, for philosophers did not frequent country districts. The general references to treatment of slaves, the slave-market, and so forth, are merely interesting as illustrative of the general prevalence of slavery, chiefly of course in Athens. But we do get to the farm in the case[507] of the rustic boor (ἄγροικος). His lack of dignity and proper reserve is shewn in talking to his slaves on matters of importance: he makes confidants of them, and so far forgets himself as to lend a hand in grinding the corn. It has been remarked that Greek manners allowed a certain familiarity[508] in the relations of master and slave. But this person overdoes it: in Peripatetic language, he transgresses the doctrine of the Mean. He employs also hired men (μισθωτοί), and to them he recounts all the political gossip (τὰ ἀπὸ τῆς ἐκκλησίας), evidently a sign of his awkwardness and inability to hold his tongue. I take these wage-earners to be poor freemen. They might be slaves hired from another owner: this practice appears elsewhere in connexion with town slaves. But the general impoverishment of the old Greece, save in a few districts, is beyond doubt: and the demand for slaves in new cities would raise the price of slaves and tend to drive the free poor to manual labour. The exact dates of the birth and death of =Polybius= are uncertain, but as an observer of events his range extended from about 190 or 189 to 122 or 121 BC. Though his references to agriculture are few and separately of small importance, they have a cumulative value on certain points. He wrote as historian of the fortunes of the civilized world of his day, treated as a whole, in which a series of interconnected struggles led up to the supremacy of Rome. His Greece is the Greece of the Leagues. No leading state of the old models had been able to unite the old Hellas effectively under its headship, but the Macedonian conquest had plainly proved that in isolation[509] the little separate states had no future open to them but slavery. The doings of Alexander’s Successors further inforced the lesson. It was clear that the only hope of freedom lay in union so far as possible, for thus only could Greek powers be created able to act with any sort of independence and self-respect in their relations with the new great powers outside. Accordingly there took place a revival of old local unions in districts where a community of interest between tribes or cities had in some form or other long been recognized. Such were the tribal League of Aetolia and the city League of Achaia. But these two were but notable instances of a federative movement much wider. The attempt to unite the scattered towns of Arcadia, with a federal centre at Megalopolis, seems to have been less successful. But the general aim of the movement towards federalism in Greece is clear. That it did not in the end save Greek freedom was due to two defects: it was too partial and too late. For no general union was achieved. Greek jealousy remained, and Leagues fought with Leagues in internal strife: then they were drawn into quarrels not their own, as allies of great foreign powers. It was no longer possible to remain neutral with safety. No League was strong enough to face the risk of compromising itself with a victorious great power. Achaean statesmen did their best, but they too could not save their country from ruin, once the League became entangled in the diplomacy of Rome. Nor was it the old Hellas alone that thus drifted to its doom. Between Rome and Carthage the western Greeks lost whatever power and freedom their own disunion and quarrels had left them. The Rhodian republic and its maritime League of islanders had to become the subject allies of Rome. One point stands out clearly enough. In the Greece of the third century BC the question of food-supply was as pressing as it had ever been in the past. The operations of King Philip were often conditioned by the ease or difficulty of getting supplies[510] of corn for his troops: that is, he had to work on an insufficient margin of such resources. In 219, after driving the Dardani out of Macedonia, he had to dismiss his men[511] that they might get in their harvest. In 218, the success of his Peloponnesian campaign was largely dependent[512] on the supplies and booty captured in Elis, in Cephallenia, in Laconia; and on the subsidies of corn and money voted by his Achaean allies. The destruction of crops[513] was as of old a principal means of warfare. And when he had to meet the Roman invasion in 197, the race to secure what corn[514] was to be had was again a leading feature of the war. It is true that the feeding of armies was a difficulty elsewhere[515], as in Asia, and in all ages and countries: also that difficulties of transport were a considerable part of it. But the war-indemnities[516] fixed by treaties, including great quantities of corn, shew the extreme importance attached to this item. And the gifts of corn[517] to the Rhodian republic after the great earthquake (about 225 BC), and the leave granted them[518] in 169 by the Roman Senate to import a large quantity from Sicily, tell the same story. Another article in great demand, only to be got wholesale from certain countries, such as Macedonia, was timber. It was wanted for domestic purposes and for construction of military engines, which were greatly developed in the wars of the Successors; but above all for shipbuilding, commercial and naval. Rhodes in particular[519] needed a great supply; and the gifts of her friends in 224 BC were largely in the form of timber. There was no doubt a great demand for it at Alexandria, Syracuse, Corinth, and generally in seaport towns. It is evident that in strictly Greek lands the wood grown was chiefly of small size, suitable for fuel. There is no sign of an advance on the conditions of an earlier time in the way of afforestation: nor indeed was such a policy likely. But food had to be found somehow. Agriculture therefore had to go on. Outside the commercial centres, where food-stuffs could be imported by sea, there was no alternative: the population had to depend on the products of local tillage and pasturage. A few cities celebrated as art-centres might contrive to live by the sale of their works, but this hardly affects the general situation. We should therefore very much like to know how things stood on the land. Was the tendency towards large landed estates, or was the small-farm system reviving? Was farm-labour chiefly that of freemen, or that of slaves? If of freemen, was it chiefly that of small owners, or that of wage-earners? In default of any authoritative statement, we have to draw what inferences we can from slight casual indications. That the career of Alexander was directly and indirectly the cause of great disturbances in Greek life, is certain. Of the ways in which it operated, two are of special importance. The compulsory restoration of exiles[520] whose properties had been confiscated led to claims for restitution; and in the matter of real estate the particular land in question was easily identified and made the subject of a bitter contest. Now uncertainty of tenure is notoriously a check on improvement, and the effect of the restorations was to make tenures uncertain. At the same time the prospects of professional soldiering in the East were a strong temptation to able-bodied husbandmen who were not very prosperous. From the rural parts of Greece a swarm of mercenaries went forth to join the host of Alexander, and the movement continued long. In the stead of one Alexander, there arose the rival Successor-kings, who competed in the military market for the intelligent Greeks. It was worth their while, and they paid well for a good article. So all through the third century there was a draining away of some of the best blood of Greece. Some of these men had no doubt parted with farms before setting out on the great venture. Of those who survived the wars, some settled down abroad as favoured citizens in some of the new cities founded by the kings. The few who returned to Greece with money saved did not come home to labour on a small farm: they settled in some city where they could see life and enjoy the ministrations of male and female slaves. Now it is not likely that all lands disposed of by these men were taken up by husbandmen exposed to the same temptations. Probably the greater part were bought up by the wealthier residents at home, and so went to increase large holdings. How far do stray notices bear out this conclusion? At Athens in 322 BC a constitution was imposed by Antipater, deliberately framed for the purpose of placing power in the hands of the richer classes. He left 9000 citizens in possession of the full franchise, excluding 12000 poor. For the latter he offered to provide allotments of land in Thrace. Accounts[521] vary, but it seems that some accepted the offer and emigrated. It was not a compulsory deportation, but it was exile. Economically it may have been a relief to Athens by reducing the number of citizens who shared civic perquisites. But it had no tendency to bring more citizens back on to Attic land: such a move would have implied displacement of present landholders, whom it was Antipater’s policy to conciliate. In the course of the third century we get a glimpse of the agrarian situation at Sparta. It is clear that the movement, already noted by Aristotle, towards land-monopoly[522] in the hands of a few rich, had been steadily going on. It ended by provoking a communistic reaction under the reforming kings Agis IV and Cleomenes III. Blood was shed, and Sparta became a disorderly state, the cause of many troubles in Greece down to the time of the Roman conquest. The growing Achaean League, in the side of which revolutionary Sparta was a thorn, was essentially a conservative federation. However democratic its individual members might be, the constitution of the League worked[523] very effectively in the interest of the rich. On the occasion of the capture of Megalopolis by Cleomenes =Polybius= is at pains to warn his readers[524] against believing stories of the immense booty taken there. Though the Peloponnese had enjoyed a period of prosperity, still these stories are gross exaggerations. Megalopolis, an important member of the League, had been from the first laid out on too ambitious[525] a scale. That the ‘Great City’ was a great desert, had found proverbial expression in a verse. A little later, when Philip was campaigning in Peloponnesus, we hear of the great prosperity[526] of Elis, especially in agriculture. The Eleans had enjoyed a great advantage in the protection afforded them by religion as guardians of Olympia. We may add that they were allied with the Aetolian League, whose hostility other Greek states were not forward to provoke. A class of wealthy resident landlords existed in Elis, and much of the country was good farming land under tillage. But in most of the Achaean and Arcadian[527] districts pastoral industry, and therefore sparse population, was the rule, owing to the mountainous nature of those parts. In central Greece we need only refer to the restored Thebes, centre once more of a Boeotian confederacy. The fertile lowland of Boeotia supplied plenty of victual; and among Greek delicacies the eels of the lake Copais were famous. Boeotians were known as a well-nourished folk. In the fragments of the comic poet Eubulus[528] (assigned to the fourth century BC) we have them depicted as gluttonous, with some grossness of detail. Such being their tradition, I can see nothing strange in the picture[529] given of the Boeotians in his own day by =Polybius=. The ceaseless guzzling, the idleness and political corruption of the people, may be overdrawn. I admit that such qualities were not favourable to lasting prosperity; but their prosperity was not lasting. In the view of Polybius the subjection of Greece by the Romans was rather an effect than a cause of Greek degeneracy, and I dare not contradict him. Moreover a piece of confirmatory evidence relative to the third century BC occurs in a fragment of =Heraclides Ponticus=. In a traveller’s description[530] of Greece Boeotia is thus referred to. Round Tanagra the land is not very rich in corn-crops, but stands at the head of Boeotian wine-production. The people are well-to-do, but live simply: they are all farmers (γεωργοί), not labourers (ἐργάται). At Anthedon on the coast the people are all fishermen ferrymen etc: they do not cultivate the land, indeed they have none. Of Thebes he remarks that the territory is good for horse-breeding, a green well-watered rolling country, with more gardens than any other Greek city owns. But, he adds, the people are violent undisciplined and quarrelsome. I think we may see here an earlier stage in the degeneracy that disgusted Polybius. In all this there is nothing to suggest that small farming was common and prosperous during the Macedonian period in Greece. The natural, inference is rather that agriculture in certain favoured districts was carried on by a limited number of large landowners on a large scale, pastoral industry varying locally according to circumstances. The development of urban life and luxury, and the agrarian troubles in the Peloponnese, are both characteristic phenomena of the age. In town and country alike the vital fact of civilization was the conflict of interests between rich and poor. Macedonia presents a contrast. There no great cities drew the people away from the country. A hardy and numerous population supplied the material for national armies whenever needed, and loyalty to the reigning king gave unity to national action. Hence the long domination of Macedon in Greece; the only serious opposition being that of the Aetolian League. Of all the Successor-kingdoms, Macedon alone was able to make any stand against the advance of Rome. It remains to consider the few indications—I can hardly call them references—from which we can get a little light on the labour-question. The passages cited from Theophrastus and Theocritus point to the prevalence of slave-labour. And the same may be said of =Polybius=. In speaking[531] of the blunder in exaggerating the value of the booty taken at Megalopolis, he says ‘Why, even in these more peaceful and prosperous days you could not raise so great a sum of money in all the Peloponnese out of the mere movables (ἐπίπλων) unless you took slaves into account (χωρὶς σωμάτων).’ His word for live-stock not human is θρέμματα. Evidently to him slave-property is a large item in the value of estates. Again, speaking of the importance of Byzantium[532] on the Pontic trade-route, he insists on the plentiful and useful supply of bestial and human stock to Greece by this traffic. The high farming of rural Elis[533] is shewn in its being full of σώματα and farm-stock (κατασκευῆς). Hence these ‘bodies’ formed a considerable part of the booty taken there by Philip. And in the claims[534] made at Rome in 183 BC against Philip a part related to slave-property. References to the sale of prisoners of war, to piracy and kidnapping, are frequent: but they only concern us as indicating time-honoured means of supplying the slave-market. As for rowing ships, so for heavy farm-work, able-bodied men were wanted. At a pinch such slaves could be, and were, employed in war[535], with grant or promise of manumission: but this was a step only taken in the last resort. A curious remark[536] of =Polybius= when speaking of Arcadia must not be overlooked. In 220 BC an Aetolian force invaded Achaia and penetrated into northern Arcadia, where they took the border town of Cynaetha, and after wholesale massacre and pillage burnt it on their retreat. The city had for years suffered terribly from internal strife, in which the doings of restored exiles had played a great part. Polybius says that the Cynaethans were thought to have deserved the disaster that had now fallen upon them. Why? Because of their savagery (ἀγριότητος). They were Arcadians. The Arcadians as a race-unit (ἔθνος) enjoy a reputation for virtue throughout Greece, as a kindly hospitable and religious folk. But the Cynaethans outdid all Greeks in cruelty and lawlessness. This is to be traced to their neglect of the time-honoured Arcadian tradition, the general practice of vocal and instrumental music. This practice was deliberately adopted as a refining agency, to relieve and temper the roughness and harshness incidental to men living toilsome lives in an inclement climate. Such was the design of the old Arcadians, on consideration of the circumstances, one point in which was that their people generally worked in person (τὴν ἑκάστων αὐτουργίαν). On this I need only remark that he is referring to the past, but may or may not include the Arcadians of his own day: and repeat what I have said before, that to be αὐτουργὸς does not exclude employment of slaves as well. That there was still more personal labour in rural Arcadia than in many other parts of Greece, is probable. But that is all. That the slavery-question was a matter of some interest in Greece may be inferred from the pains taken by =Polybius=[537] to refute an assertion of =Timaeus=, that to acquire slaves was not a Greek custom. The context is lost, and we cannot tell whether it was a general assertion or not. If general, it was no doubt nonsense. A more effective piece of evidence is the report[538] of =Megasthenes=, who visited India early in the third century. He told his Greek readers that in India slavery was unknown. The contrast to Greece was of course the interesting point. It is also affirmed[539] that in this period manumissions became more common, as a result of the economic decline of Greece combined with the moral evolution to be traced in the philosophic schools. Calderini, from whom I take this, is the leading authority on Greek manumission. And, so far as the records are concerned, the number of inscribed ‘acts’ recovered from the important centre of Delphi[540] confirms the assertion. From 201 to 140 BC these documents are exceptionally numerous. But the not unfrequent stipulation found in them, that the freed man or woman shall remain in attendance[541] on his or her late owner for the owner’s life or for some fixed period, or shall continue to practise a trade (or even learn a trade) on the profits of which the late owner or his heirs shall have a claim, suggest strongly that these manumissions were the rewards of domestic service or technical skill. I do not believe that they have any connexion with rustic[542] slavery. Calderini also holds that as Greek industries and commerce declined free labour competed more and more with slave-labour. So far as urban trades are concerned, this is probably true: and likewise a certain decline in domestic slavery due to the straitened circumstances of families and experience of the waste and nuisance of large slave-households. This last point, already noticed[543] e.g. by Aristotle, is to be found expressed in utterances of the comic poets. Rustic slavery appears in the fragments of Menander’s Γεωργός, but the old farmer’s slaves are Barbarians, who will do nothing to help him when accidentally hurt, and who are hardly likely to receive favours. The ordinary view of agriculture in Menander’s time seems most truly expressed in his saying[544] that it is a slave’s business. Mention of the comic poets may remind us that most of the surviving matter of the later Comedy has reached us in the Latin versions and adaptations of =Plautus= and =Terence=. It is necessary to speak of their evidence separately, in particular where slavery is in question, for the relative passages are liable to be touched with Roman colouring. In the case of manumission this is especially clear, but to pursue the topic in detail is beyond my present purpose. The passages of =Plautus= bearing on rustic life are not many, but the picture so far as it goes is clear and consistent. In general the master is represented as a man of means with a house in town and a country estate outside. The latter is worked by slaves under a slave-bailiff or steward (_vilicus_). The town-house is staffed by slaves, but the headman is less absolute than the steward on the farm: departmental chiefs, such as the cook, are important parts of the household. This is natural enough, for the master generally resides there himself, and only pays occasional[545] visits to the farm. The two sets of slaves are kept apart. If the steward[546] or some other trusted farm-slave has to come to town, he is practically a stranger, and a quarrel is apt to arise with leading domestics: for his rustic appearance and manners are despised by the pampered menials. But he is aware that his turn may come: some day the master in wrath may consign the offending town-slave to farm-labour, and then—. Apart from slavery, rustic life is regarded[547] as favourable to good morals: honest labour, frugal habits, freedom from urban temptations, commend it to fathers who desire to preserve their sons from corrupting debauchery. In short, the urban moralist idealizes the farm. Whether he would by choice reside there, is quite another thing. Clearly the average young citizen would not. That the farm is occasionally used[548] as a retreat, is no more than a point of dramatic convenience. In one passage[549] we have a picture of a small farm, with slave-labour employed on it. Freemen as agricultural labourers hardly appear at all. But a significant dialogue[550] between an old freeman and a young one runs thus: ‘Country life is a life of toil.’ ‘Aye, but city indigence is far more so.’ The youth, who has offered to do farm-work, is representative of that class of urban poor, whose lot was doubtless a very miserable one. Very seldom do we hear anything of them, for our records in general only take account of the master and the slave. In the play just referred to[551] there occur certain terms more or less technical. The neutral _operarius_ seems equivalent to ἐργάτης, and _mercennarius_ to μισθωτός, distinct from[552] _servus_. But these terms are not specially connected with agriculture. The references in =Terence= give us the same picture. An old man of 60 or more is blamed[553] by a friend. ‘You have a first-rate farm and a number of slaves: why will you persist in working yourself to make up for their laziness? Your labour would be better spent in keeping them to their tasks.’ The old man explains[554] that he is punishing himself for his treatment of his only son. In order to detach the youth from an undesirable amour, he had used the stock reproaches of fathers to erring sons. He had said ‘At your time of life I wasn’t hanging about a mistress: I went soldiering in Asia for a living, and there I won both money and glory.’ At length the young man could stand it no longer: he went off to Asia and entered the service of one of the kings. The old man cannot forgive himself, and is now busy tormenting himself for his conduct. He has sold off[555] all his slaves, male or female, save those whose labour on the farm pays for its cost, and is wearing himself out as a mere farm hand. Another[556] old farmer, a man of small means who makes his living by farming, is evidently not the owner but a tenant. Another[557] has gone to reside on his farm, to make it pay; otherwise the expenses at home cannot be met. In general country life is held up as a model[558] of frugality and industry. In one passage[559] we hear of a hired wage-earner employed on a farm (_a villa mercennarium_) whom I take to be a free man, probably employed for some special service. Such are the gleanings to be got from these Roman echoes of the later Attic comedy. I see no reason to believe that they are modified by intrusion of details drawn from Italy. The period in which Plautus and Terence wrote (about 230-160 BC) included many changes in Roman life, particularly in agriculture. In large parts of Italy the peasant farmers were being superseded by great landlords whose estates were worked by slave-labour, and the conditions of farm life as shewn by the Attic playwrights were not so strange to a Roman audience as to need recasting. And we can only remark that the evidence drawn from the passages above referred to is in full agreement with that taken from other sources. A very interesting sidelight on conditions in Greece, agriculture included, towards the end of the third century BC, is thrown by the correspondence[560] of =Philip V of Macedon= with the authorities of Larisa. An inscription found at Larisa preserves this important record. Two points must first be noted, to give the historical setting of the whole affair. Thessaly was under Macedonian overlordship, and its economic and military strength a matter of concern to Philip, who had succeeded to the throne of Macedon in 220 BC. Moreover, the defeat of Carthage in the first Punic war (264-41), the Roman occupation of the greater part of Sicily and Sardinia, the Gallic wars and extension of Roman dominion in Italy, the Illyrian war (230-29) and intervention of Rome beyond the Adriatic, had attracted the attention of all the Greek powers. The western Republic had for some years been carefully watched, and the admission of Corcyra Epidamnus and Apollonia to the Roman alliance was especially disquieting to the Macedonian king. So in 219 BC, just before the second Punic war, Philip sent =a letter to Larisa=, pointing out that the number of their citizens had been reduced by losses in recent wars and urging them to include in their franchise the Thessalians and other Greeks resident in the city. Among other advantages, the country[561] would be more fully cultivated. The Larisaeans obeyed his injunctions. In 217 the war in Greece was ended by his concluding peace with the Aetolians, his chief antagonists. Hannibal was now in Italy, and the victory of Cannae in 216 raised hopes in Philip of using the disasters of the Romans to drive them out of Illyria. In 215 he concluded an alliance with Hannibal. The Romans replied by naval activity in the Adriatic and later by stirring up Greek powers, above all the Aetolians, to renew the war against him. Meanwhile things had not gone on quietly at Larisa. The old Thessalian noble families had given way to the king’s pressure unwillingly for the moment, but internal troubles soon broke out. The nobles regained control and annulled the recent concessions. Philip therefore addressed to them a =second letter= in 214, censuring their conduct, and calling upon them to give effect to the enfranchisement-policy previously agreed to. Thus they would not only conform to his decision as their overlord, but would best serve their own interests. Their city would gain strength by increasing the number of citizens, and they would not have their territory disgracefully[562] lying waste (καὶ τὴν χώραν μὴ ὥσπερ νῦν αἰσχρῶς χερσεύεσθαι). He went on to refer to the advantageous results of such incorporations elsewhere: citing in particular the experience of Rome, whose growth and colonial expansion were the fruits of a franchise-policy so generous as to grant citizenship even to manumitted slaves. He called upon the Larisaeans to face the question without aristocratic prejudice (ἀφιλοτίμως). And the Larisaeans again complied. Now here we have a glimpse of agricultural decline in one of the most fertile parts of Greece. The stress laid upon it by Philip shews that to him it seemed a very serious matter. He saw trouble coming, and wished to keep his dependent allies strong. That his difficulty lay in controlling the aristocratic families, who still retained much of their former power, is clear. After his defeat in 197 the Romans restored[563] the aristocratic governments in Thessalian cities; indeed all through the wars of this period in Greece the popular parties inclined to Macedon, while the propertied classes favoured Rome. In Thessaly the private estates of the nobles were cultivated by serfs. How would an incorporation of more citizens tend to promote a fuller cultivation of the land? I think we may take it for granted that the new citizens were not expected to till the soil in person. That they were to have unemployed serfs assigned to them, and so to enter the ranks of cultivating landlords, is a bold assumption: for we do not know that there were any unemployed serfs or that any distribution of land was contemplated. I can only suggest that the effect of receiving citizenship would be to acquire the right of holding real estate. Then, if we suppose that there were at the time landed estates left vacant by the war-casualties to which the king refers, and that each of these carried with it a right to a certain supply of serf labour, we do get some sort of answer to the question. But so far as I know this is nothing but guesswork. More owners interested in the profits of farming would tend, if labour were available, to employ more labour on the farms. In short, we have evidence of the decay of agriculture in a particular district and period, but as to the exact causes of this decay, and the exact nature of the means proposed for checking it, we are sadly in the dark. The garden or orchard had always been a favourite institution in Greek life, and the growth of cities did not make it less popular. The land immediately beyond the city walls was often laid out in this manner. When Aratus in 251 BC took Sicyon and attached it to the Achaean League, the surprise was effected by way of a suburban[564] garden. And we have no reason to suppose that holdings near a city lacked cultivators. Even in the horrible period of confusion and bloodshed at Syracuse, from the death of Dionysius the elder to the victory of Timoleon, we hear[565] of Syracusans living in the country, and of the usual clamour for redistribution of lands. In the endeavour to repopulate the city an invitation to settlers was issued, with offer[566] of land-allotments, and apparently the promise was kept. These notices suggest that there was a demand for suburban holdings, but tell us nothing as to the state of things in the districts further afield, or as to the class of labour employed on the land. In any case Syracuse was a seaport, and accustomed to get a good part of its supplies by sea. Very different was the situation in Peloponnesus, where the up-country towns had to depend chiefly on the produce of their own territories. There land-hunger was ever present. The estates of men driven out in civil broils were seized by the victorious party, and restoration of exiles at once led to a fresh conflict over claims to restitution of estates. One of the most difficult problems[567] with which Aratus had to deal at Sicyon was this; and in the end he only solved it by the use of a large sum of money, the gift of Ptolemy Philadelphus. The restored exiles on this occasion are said to have been not less than 580 in all. They had been expelled by tyrants who had in recent years ruled the city, and whose policy it had evidently been to drive out the men of property—sworn foes of tyrants—and to reward their own adherents out of confiscated lands. To reverse this policy was the lifelong aim of Aratus. In the generation following, the life of his successor Philopoemen gives us a little light on agriculture from another point of view, that of the soldier. He was resolved to make the army of the Achaean League an efficient force. As a young man he concluded[568] that the Greek athletic training was not consistent with military life, in which the endurance of hardship and ability to subsist on any diet were primary necessities. Therefore he devoted his spare time to agriculture, working[569] in person on his farm, about 2½ miles from Megalopolis, sharing the labour and habits of the labourers (ἐργατῶν). The use of the neutral word leaves a doubt as to whether freemen or slaves are meant: taken in connexion with the passages cited from Polybius, it is perhaps more likely that the reference is to slaves. But the chief interest of the story as preserved by =Plutarch= lies in the discovery that, compared with athletes, husbandmen are better military material. The conclusions of Beloch[570] as to the population of Peloponnesus in this period call for serious consideration. His opinion is that the number capable of bearing arms declined somewhat since the middle of the fourth century, though the wholesale emancipation of Spartan Helots must be reckoned as an addition. But on the whole the free population was at the beginning of the second century about equal to the joint total of free and Helot population at the end of the fifth century. On the other hand, the slave population had in the interval greatly increased. He points to the importance of a slave corps[571] in the defence of Megalopolis when besieged in 318 BC: to the Roman and Italian[572] slaves (prisoners sold by Hannibal) in Achaean territory, found and released in 194 BC, some 1200 in number: and to the levy[573] of manumitted home-born slaves in the last struggle of the League against Rome. I must say that this evidence, taken by itself, hardly seems enough to sustain the great historian’s broad conclusion. But many of the passages cited in preceding sections lend it support, and I am therefore not disposed to challenge its general probability. It may be added that increase in the number of slaves suggests an increase of large holdings cultivated by slave labour; and that the breeding of home-born (οἰκογενεῖς) slaves could be more easily practised by owners of a large staff than on a small scale. Moreover the loss of slaves levied for war purposes would fall chiefly on their wealthy owners. The men of property were rightly or wrongly suspected of leaning to Rome, and were not likely to be spared by the demagogues who presided over the last frantic efforts of ‘freedom’ in Greece. The truth seems to be that circumstances were more and more unfavourable to the existence of free husbandmen on small farms, the very class of whose solid merits statesmen and philosophers had shewn warm appreciation. The division between the Rich, who wanted to keep what they had and get more, and the Poor, who wanted to take the property of the Rich, was the one ever-significant fact. And the establishment of Roman supremacy settled the question for centuries to come. Roman capitalism, hastening to exploit the world for its own ends, had no mercy for the small independent worker in any department of life. In Greece under the sway of Rome there is no doubt that free population declined, and the state of agriculture went from bad to worse. At this point, when the Greek world passes under the sway of Rome, it is necessary to pause and turn back to consider the fragmentary record of early Italian agriculture. This one great staple industry is represented as the economic foundation of Roman political and military greatness. No small part of the surviving Latin literature glorifies the soundness of the Roman farmer-folk and the exploits of farmer-heroes in the good old days, and laments the rottenness that attended their decay. How far this tradition is to be accepted as it stands, or what reservations on its acceptance should be made, and in particular the introduction or extension of slave-labour, are the questions with which it will be our main business to deal. ROME—EARLY PERIOD XX. THE TRADITIONS COMBINED AND DISCUSSED. When we turn to Roman agriculture, and agricultural labour in particular, we have to deal with evidence very different in character from that presented by the Greek world. This will be most clearly seen if we accept the very reasonable division of periods made by Wallon in his _History of Slavery_—the first down to 201 BC, the end of the second Punic war, the second to the age of the Antonine emperors, 200 BC to the death of Marcus Aurelius in 180 AD, and the third that of the later Empire. For of the first we have no contemporary or nearly contemporary pictures surviving. Traditions preserved by later writers, notes of antiquaries on words and customs long obscured by time and change, are the staple material at hand. Even with the help of a few survivals in law, inference from such material is unavoidably timid and incomplete. In collecting what the later Romans believed of their past we get vivid impressions of the opinions and prejudices that went to form the Roman spirit. But it does not follow that we can rely on these opinions as solid evidence of facts. An instance may be found in the assertion[574] that a clause requiring the employment of a certain proportion of free labourers to slaves was included in the Licinian laws of 367 BC. This used to be taken as a fact, and inferences were drawn from it, but it is now with reason regarded as an ‘anticipation,’ transferring the fact of a later attempt of the kind to an age in which the slave-gangs were not as yet an evident economic and social danger. In the second period, that of Roman greatness, we have not only contemporary witness for much of the time in the form of references and allusions in literature, but the works of the great writers on agriculture, Cato Varro and Columella, not to mention the great compiler Pliny, fall within it, and give us on the whole a picture exceptionally complete. We know more of the farm-management and labour-conditions in this period than we do of most matters of antiquity. The last period sees the development of a change the germs of which are no doubt to be detected in the preceding one. The great strain on the Empire, owing to the internal decay and the growing pressure of financial necessities, made the change inevitable; economic freedom and proprietary slavery died down, and we have before us the transition to predial serfdom, the system of the unfree tenant bound to the soil. The record of this change is chiefly preserved in the later Roman Law. My first business is therefore to inquire what the tradition of early times amounts to, and how far it may reasonably be taken as evidence of fact. And it must be borne in mind that my subject is not the technical details of agriculture in general, but the nature of the labour employed in agriculture. In ages when voluntary peace between empires and peoples on _bona fide_ equal terms was never a realized fact, and as yet hardly a dream, the stability of a state depended on the strength of its military forces,—their number, efficiency, and means of renewal. Mere numbers[575] were tried and failed. The hire of professional soldiers of fortune[576] might furnish technical skill, but it was politically dangerous. Their leaders had no personal sentiment in favour of the state employing them, and their interest or ambition disposed them rather to support a tyrant, or to become tyrants themselves, than to act as loyal defenders of the freedom of the state. Mercenaries[577] hired in the mass, barbarians, were less skilled but not less dangerous. That a well-trained army of citizens was the most trustworthy organ of state-protection, was not disputed: the combination of loyalty with skill made it a most efficient weapon. The ratio of citizen enthusiasm to the confidence created by exact discipline varied greatly in the Greek republics of the fifth century BC. But these two elements were normally present, though in various proportions. The common defect, most serious in those states that played an active part, was the smallness of scale that made it difficult to keep up the strength of citizen armies exposed to the wastage of war. A single great disaster might and did turn a struggle for empire into a desperate fight for existence. The constrained transition to employment of mercenary troops as the principal armed force of states was both a symptom and a further cause of decay in the Greek republics. For the sturdy soldiers of fortune were generally drawn from the rustic population of districts in which agriculture filled a more important place than political life. There is little doubt that a decline of food-production in Greece was the result: and scarcity of food had long been a persistent difficulty underlying and explaining most of the doings of the Greeks. The rise of Macedon and the conquests of Alexander proved the military value of a national army of trained rustics, and reasserted the superiority of such troops to the armed multitudes of the East. But Alexander’s career did not leave the world at peace. His empire broke up in a period of dynastic wars; for to supply an imperial army strong enough to support a single control and guarantee internal peace was beyond the resources of Macedonia. If an army of considerable strength, easily maintained and recruited, loyal, the servant of the state and not its master, was necessary for defence and as an instrument of foreign politics, there was room for a better solution of the problem than had been found in Greece or the East. It was found in Italy on the following lines. An increase of scale could only be attained by growth. Growth, to be effective, must not consist in mere conquest: it must be true expansion, in other words it must imply permanent occupation. And permanent occupation implied settlement of the conquering people on the conquered lands. A growing population of rustic citizens, self-supporting, bound by ties of sentiment and interest to the state of which they were citizens, conscious of a duty to uphold the state to which they owed their homesteads and their security, supplied automatically in response to growing needs the growing raw material of power. Nor was Roman expansion confined to the assignation of land-allotments to individuals (_viritim_). Old towns were remodelled, and new ones founded, under various conditions as settlements (_coloniae_). Each settler in one of these towns received an allotment of land in the territory of the township, and was officially speaking a tiller of the soil (_colonus_). The effect of these Colonies was twofold. Their territories added to the sum of land in occupation of Romans or Roman Allies: so far the gain was chiefly material. But they were all bound to Rome and subjected to Roman influences. In their turn they influenced the conquered peoples among whom they were planted, and promoted slowly and steadily the Romanizing of Italy. Being fortified, they had a military value from the first, as commanding roads and as bases of campaigns. But their moral effect in accustoming Italians to regard Rome as the controlling centre of Italy was perhaps of even greater importance. We must not ignore or underrate the advantages of Rome’s position from a commercial point of view. Little though we hear of this in tradition, it can hardly be doubted that it gave Rome a marked superiority in resources to her less happily situated neighbours, and enabled her to take the first great step forward by becoming dominant in central Italy. But the consolidation and completion of her conquest of the peninsula was carried out by means of an extended Roman agriculture. It was this that gave to Roman expansion the solid character that distinguished republican Rome from other conquering powers. What she took, that she could keep. When the traditional story of early Rome depicts the Roman commons as hungry for land, and annexation of territory as the normal result of conquest, it is undoubtedly worthy of belief. When it shews us the devastation of their enemies’ lands as a chief part—sometimes the whole—of the work of a campaign, it is in full agreement with the traditions of all ancient warfare. When we read[578] that the ruin of farms by raids of the enemy brought suffering farmers into debt, and that the cruel operation of debt-laws led to serious internal troubles in the Roman state, the story is credible enough. The superior organization of Rome enabled her to overcome these troubles, not only by compromises and concessions at home, but still more by establishing her poorer citizens on farms at the cost of her neighbours. As the area under her control was extended, the military force automatically grew, and she surpassed her rivals in the cohesion and vitality of her power. At need, her armies rose from the soil. So did those of other Italian peoples. But in dealing with them she enjoyed the advantage of unity as compared with the far less effective cooperation of Samnite cantons or Etruscan cities. Even the capture of Rome by the Gauls could not destroy her system, and she was able to strengthen her moral position by proving herself the one competent defender of Italy against invasion from the North. When the time came for the struggle with Carthage, she had to face a different test. But no blundering on the part of her generals, no strategy of Hannibal, could avail to nullify the solid superiority of her military strength. And this strength was in the last resort derived from the numbers and loyalty of the farm-population: it was in fact the product of the plough rather than the sword. The agricultural conditions of early Rome[579] are a subject, and have been the subject, of special treatises. Only a few points can be noticed here. That a communal system of some kind once existed, whether in the form of the associations known to inquirers as Village Communities or on a gentile basis as Clan-estates, is a probable hypothesis. But the evidence for it is slight, and, however just the general inferences may be, they can hardly be said to help us much in considering the labour-question. It may well be true that lands[580] were held by clans, that they were cultivated in common, that the produce was divided among the households, that parcels of the land were granted to the dependants (_clientes_) of the clan as tenants at will (_precario_) on condition of paying a share of their crops. Or it may be that the normal unit was a village in which the members were several freeholders of small plots, with common rights over the undivided common-land, the waste left free for grazing and miscellaneous uses. And it is possible that at some stage or other of social development both these systems may have existed side by side. In later times we find Rome the mistress of a vast territory in Italy, a large part of which was reserved as state-domain (_ager publicus populi Romani_), the mismanagement of which was a source of grave evils. But in Rome’s early days there cannot have been any great amount of such domain-land. That there was land-hunger, a demand for several allotments in full ownership, on which a family might live, is not to be doubted. And the formation of communities, each with its village centre and its common pasture, was a very natural means to promote mutual help and protection. That men so situated worked with their own hands, and that the labour was mainly (and often wholly) that of the father and his family, is as nearly certain as such a proposition can be. But this does not imply or suggest that no slave-labour was employed on the farms. It merely means that farms were not worked on a system in which all manual labour was performed by slaves. We have to inquire what is the traditional picture of agricultural conditions in the early days of Rome, and how far that picture is worthy of our belief. Now it so happens that, three striking figures stand out in the traditional picture of the Roman farmer-soldiers of the early Republic. Others fill in certain details, but the names of Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus, Manius Curius Dentatus, and Gaius Fabricius Luscinus, were especially notable in Roman legend as representing the strenuous patriotic and frugal lives of the heroes of old. The story of Cincinnatus[581] is told by Cicero Livy Dionysius and Pliny the elder, and often referred to by other writers. The hero is a Patrician of the old simple frugal patriotic masterful type, the admiration and imitation of which these edifying legends seek to encourage. He had owned seven _iugera_ of land, but had been driven to pledge or sell three of these[582] in order to provide bail for his son, who had been brought to trial for disturbance of the public peace and had sought safety in flight. The forfeit imposed on the father left him with only four _iugera_. This little farm, on the further side of the Tiber, he was cultivating, when deputies from the Senate came to announce that he had been named Dictator to deal with a great emergency. They found him digging or ploughing, covered with dust and sweat: and he would not receive them till he had washed and gowned himself. Then he heard their message, took up the duties of the supreme office, and of course saved the state. It is to be noted that he chose as his Master of the Horse (the Dictator’s understudy) a man of the same[583] sort, Patrician by birth, poor, but a stout warrior. We may fairly suspect that a definite moral purpose has been at work, modelling and colouring this pretty story. In a later age, when the power of moneyed interests was overriding the prestige of Patrician blood, the reaction of an ‘old-Roman’ party was long a vigorous force in Roman life, as we see from the career of the elder Cato. Cato was a Plebeian, but any Plebeian who admired the simple ways of early Rome was bound to recognize that Patricians were the nobility of the olden time. Now the fact of Cincinnatus working with his own hands is the one material point in the story. We need not doubt that there were many such men, and that a name (perhaps correct) was necessary in order to keep the story current and to impress later generations with the virtues of their ancestors. But, if the man had under him a slave or slaves, the fact would be quite unimportant for the purpose of the legend. Therefore it is no wonder that the versions of the story in general say nothing of slaves. It is more remarkable that in the version of Dionysius we read that Cincinnatus, after selling off most of his property to meet the liabilities incurred through his son, ‘kept for himself one small farm beyond the Tiber, on which there was a mean cabin: there he was living a life of toil and hardship, tilling the soil with a few slaves.’ That Dionysius was a rhetorician with an eye for picturesque detail, and liable to overdraw a picture, is certain: but it is not evident how the mention of the slaves is to be accounted for by this tendency. The impression of the hero’s poverty and personal labour is rather weakened by mention of slaves. The writer derived his story from Roman sources. Now, did the original version include the slaves or not? Did Livy and the rest leave them out, or did Dionysius put them in? Were they omitted as useless or embarrassing for the uses of edifying, or were they casually inserted owing to the prepossessions of a Greek familiar only with a developed slave-system, to whom ‘with a few slaves’ would fitly connote poverty? To answer these questions with confidence is perhaps unwise. But to me it seems far more likely that Roman writers left the detail out than that a Greek student put it in. If the tradition of the early wars is of any value at all, it may give a general support to this opinion through the frequent references to the existence of rustic slavery. The devastation of an enemy’s country is the normal occupation of hostile armies. The capture of slaves[584], as of flocks and herds and beasts of burden, is a common item in the tale of booty from the farms. That writers of a later age may have exaggerated the slave-element in the farm-labour of early times is highly probable. The picturesque was an object, and it was natural to attempt it with the use of touches suggested by daily circumstances of the world in which they were living. But that they so completely misrepresented the conditions of a past age as to foist into the picture so important a figure as the slave, without authority or probability, is hardly to be believed, unless there is good reason for thinking that slavery was unknown in the age and country of which they speak. And the contrary is the case. The dawn of Roman history shews us a people already advanced in civilization to the stage of family and clan organization, and the tradition allows for the presence of the slave in the _familia_ from the first. True, he does not appear as the despised human chattel of later times, but as a man whom misfortune has placed in bondage. His master is aware that fortune may turn, and that his bondman is quite capable of resuming his former position if restored in freedom to his native home. The slave seems to be normally an Italian[585], a captive in some war; he may have passed by sale from one owner to another. But he is not a mere foreign animal, good bad or indifferent, a doubtful purchase from a roguish dealer. He bears a name[586] that connects him with his master, _Publipor Lucipor Marcipor Olipor_ and so on, formed by adding the suffix _por_ to the forename of Publius Lucius Marcus or Aulus. But, granting that all households might include a slave or two, and that many so did, also that agriculture was a common and honourable pursuit,—is it likely that a farming owner would himself plough or dig and leave his slave[587] to look on? I conclude therefore that the age was one in which agriculture prevailed and that the ordinary farmer worked himself and employed slave-labour side by side with his own so far as his means allowed. All was on a small scale. Passages of Livy or Dionysius that imply the presence of great slave-gangs, and desertions on a large scale in time of war are falsely coloured by ‘anticipation’ of phenomena well known from the experience of more recent times. But, on however small a scale, slavery was there. Until there came an impulse of an ‘industrial’ kind, prompting men to engage in wholesale production for a large market, the slave remained essentially a domestic, bearing a considerable share of the family labours, whatever the nature of those labours might be. As there is no difficulty in believing that Cincinnatus and others of his type in the fifth century BC worked with slaves beside them, so it is evident that Curius and Fabricius in the first half of the third century are meant to illustrate the same frugal life and solid patriotism. In both cases the story lays particular stress on the hero’s incorruptibility and cheerful endurance of poverty. A well-known scene[588] represents Curius at his rustic villa eating a dinner of herbs and refusing a gift of gold from Samnite ambassadors. He is an honest farmer-citizen of the good old sort. Fabricius is another, famed especially for his calm defiance of the threats and cajolery of Pyrrhus, and impervious to bribes. Both these traditions received much legendary colouring in course of time. The passage bearing most directly on my present inquiry is a fragment[589] of Dionysius, in which Fabricius is spurning the offers of king Pyrrhus, who is very anxious to secure the good man’s services as his chief minister on liberal terms. He says ‘nor need I tell you of my poverty, that I have but a very small plot of land with a mean cottage, and that I get my living neither from money at interest (ἀπὸ δανεισμάτων) nor from slaves (ἀπ’ ἀνδραπόδων).’ Below he declares that living under Roman conditions he holds himself a happy man, ‘for with industry and thrift I find my poor little farm sufficient to provide me with necessaries.’ And his constitution (φύσις) does not constrain him to hanker after unnecessary things. Here we have a good specimen of the moral stories with which the later rhetoricians edified their readers. But what does ‘from slaves’ mean? Is Fabricius denying that he employs slave-labour on his farm? If so, I confess that I do not believe the denial as being his own genuine utterance. I take it to be put into his mouth by Dionysius, writing under the influence of the agricultural conditions of a much later time, when great slaveowners drew large incomes from the exploitation of slave-labour on great estates. But I am not sure that Dionysius means him to be saying more than ‘I am not a big capitalist farming on a large scale by slave-gangs.’ How far this writer really understood the state of things in the third century BC, is hard to say. In any case he is repeating what he has picked up from earlier writers and not letting it suffer in the repetition. Taken by himself, he is no more a sufficient witness to the practice of Fabricius than to that of Cincinnatus. That there was slavery is certain: that Fabricius had scruples against employing slaves is hardly credible. In the ages during which Rome gradually won her way to the headship of Italy the Roman citizen was normally both farmer and soldier: the soldier generally a man called up from his farm for a campaign, the farmer of military age always potentially a soldier. This state of things was evidently not peculiar to Rome. What makes it striking in the case of Rome is the well-considered system by which the military machine was kept in working order. The development of fortress colonies and extension of roads gave to Roman farmers in the border-lands more security than any neighbouring power could give to its own citizens on its own side of the border. Mobilization was more prompt and effective on the Roman side under a central control: the fortresses served as a hindrance to hostile invaders, as refuges to the rustics at need, and as bases for Roman armies. It is no great stretch of imagination to see in this organization a reason for the prosperity of Roman agriculture. Farms were no doubt laid waste on both sides of the border, but the balance of the account was in the long run favourable to Rome. Among the numerous legends that gathered round the name of king Pyrrhus is a story[590] that in reply to some discontent on the part of his Italian allies, to whom his strategy seemed over-cautious, he said ‘the mere look of the country shews me the great difference between you and the Romans. In the parts subject to them are all manner of fruit-trees and vineyards: the land is cultivated and the farm-establishments are costly: but the estates of my friends are so laid waste that all signs of human occupation have disappeared.’ The saying may be not authentic or merely overdrawn in rhetorical transmission. But it probably contains the outlines of a true picture of the facts. It was the power of giving to her farmer-settlers a more effective protection than her rivals could give to their own farmers that enabled Rome to advance steadily and continuously. The organization was simple enough: the sword was ready to guard the plough, and the plough to occupy and hold the conquests of the sword. From the time of the first Punic war we have a remarkable story relating to M Atilius Regulus, the man around whose name so much patriotic legend gathered. He appears as one of the good old farmer-heroes. His farm[591] of seven _iugera_ lay in an unhealthy part of the country, and the soil was poor. His advice to agriculturists, not to buy good land in an unhealthy district nor bad land in a healthy one, was handed down as the opinion of a qualified judge. We are told[592] that after his victory in Africa he desired to be relieved and return home; but the Senate did not send out another commander, and so he had to stay on. He wrote and complained of his detention. Among other reasons he urged in particular his domestic anxiety. In the epitome of Livy XVIII this appears as ‘that his little farm had been abandoned by the hired men.’ In Valerius Maximus[593] we find a fuller account, thus ‘that the steward in charge of his little farm (seven _iugera_ in the _Pupinia_) had died, and the hired man (_mercennarium_) had taken the opportunity to decamp, taking with him the farm-stock: therefore he asked them to relieve him of his command, for he feared his wife and children would have nothing to live on now the farm was abandoned.’ On hearing this, the Senate ordered that provision should at once be made at the cost of the state (_a_) for cultivation of his farm[594] by contract (_b_) for maintenance of his wife and children (_c_) for making good the losses he had suffered. The reference of Pliny[595] rather confirms the details of Valerius, who by himself is not a very satisfactory witness. Livy is probably the source of all these versions. They are part of the Roman tradition of the first Punic war. Polybius, whose narrative is from another line of tradition, says not a word of this story. Indeed, he declares[596] that Regulus, so far from wishing to be relieved, wanted to stay on, fearing that he might hand over the credit of a final victory to a successor. The two traditions cannot be reconciled as they stand. Probably neither is complete. If we suppose the account of Polybius to be true, it does not follow as a matter of course that the other story is a baseless fiction. In any case, the relation of Regulus to the agriculture of his day, as represented by the story, seemed credible to Romans of a later age, and deserves serious consideration. We are told that in the middle of the third century BC a man of such position and recognized merit that he was specially chosen to fill the place of a deceased consul in the course of a great war was a farmer on an estate of seven _iugera_, from which he was supporting his wife and family. In his absence on public duty he had left the farm in charge of a _vilicus_. The only reference to the labour employed there speaks of hired men (wage-earners, _mercennarii_). It does not say that there were no slaves. But the natural inference is that the _vilicus_ had the control of a staff consisting wholly or largely of free labourers. Now that a slave _vilicus_ might in the ordinary run of business be left in control of labourers, slave or free, seems clear from directions given by Cato[597] in the next century. The _vilicus_ in this story was therefore probably a slave, as they were generally if not always. His death left the hired men uncontrolled, and they took the opportunity of robbing their employer. Roused by the absent consul’s complaints (whether accompanied by a request for relief or not), the Senate took up the matter and arranged to secure him against loss. We do not hear of the punishment of the dishonest hirelings, or even of a search for them. This may be merely an omitted detail: at any rate they had probably left the neighbourhood. The curious thing is that we hear nothing of the wife of Regulus: that a Roman matron submitted tamely to such treatment is hard to believe. Was it she who made the complaints and set the Senate in motion? The general outcome of the story is a conclusion that hired labour was freely employed in this age, not to exclusion of slave labour, but combined with it: that is, that the wage-earning work of landless men, such as appears in the earlier traditions, still went on. It was not yet overlaid by the plantation-system, and degraded by the associations of the slave-gang and the _ergastulum_. When we pass on to the second Punic war, of which we have a fuller and less legendary record, we find the circumstances somewhat changed, but the importance of the Roman farmer’s grip of the land is recognized as clearly as before. It is not unlikely that since the time of the Pyrrhic war the practise of large-scale farming with slave-labour had begun to appear[598] in Italy, but it can hardly as yet have been widespread. Large or small, the farms in a large part of the country had suffered from the ravages of Hannibal, and it would be the land of Romans and their faithful allies that suffered most. Many rustics had to seek shelter in walled towns, above all in Rome, and their presence was no doubt in many ways embarrassing. Naturally, as the failure of Hannibal became manifest, the Roman Senate was desirous of restoring these refugees to the land and relieving the pressure on the city. Livy, drawing no doubt from an earlier annalist, tells us[599] that in 206 BC the Senate instructed the consuls, before they left for the seat of war, to undertake the bringing back of the common folk (_plebis_) on to the land. They pointed out that this was desirable, and possible under the better conditions now prevailing. ‘But it was for the people (_populo_) not at all an easy matter; for the free farmers (_cultoribus_) had perished in the war, there was a shortage of slaves (_inopia servitiorum_), the live stock had been carried off, and the farmsteads (_villis_) wrecked or burnt. Yet under pressure from the consuls a good many did go back to the land.’ He adds that what had raised the question at this particular juncture was the appeal of a deputation from Placentia and Cremona. These two Latin colonies, founded twelve years before as fortresses to hold the region of the Po, had suffered from Gaulish raids and had no longer a sufficient population, many settlers having gone off elsewhere. The Roman commander in the district was charged to provide for their protection, and the truant colonists ordered to return to their posts. It was evidently thought that with full numbers and military support there would be an end to the derelict condition of their territories, and that the two colonies would soon revive. This attempt to reestablish the rustic population lays stress upon the general identity of farmer and soldier and the disturbance of agriculture by the ravages of war. But most notable is the mention of the shortage of slave-labour as a hindrance to resumption of work on derelict farms. It has been held[600] that this clause refers only to large estates worked by slave-gangs, while the free farmers stand for the men on small holdings, who presumably employed no slaves. Now it is quite conceivable that this contrast may have been in Livy’s mind as he wrote in the days of Augustus. That it was the meaning of the older author from whom he took the facts is not an equally probable inference. No doubt lack of slaves would hinder or prevent the renewal of tillage on a big estate. But what of a small farm whose owner had fallen in the war? The absence of the father in the army would be a most serious blow to the efficient working of the farm. If the raids of the enemy drove his family to take refuge in Rome, and the farm was let down to weeds, more labour than ever would be needed to renew cultivation. When there was no longer any hope of his return, the supply of sufficient labour was the only chance of reviving the farm. Surely there must have been many cases in which the help of one or two slaves was the obvious means of supplying it. Therefore, if we recognize that slave-labour had long been a common institution in Roman households, we shall not venture to assert that only large estates are referred to. That such estates, worked by slave-gangs, were numerous in 206 BC, is not likely: that small farmers often (not always) eked out their own labour with the help of a slave, is far more so. The actual shortage of slaves[601] had been partly brought about by the employment of many in military service. Some had no doubt simply run away. And the period of great foreign conquests and a full slave-market had yet to come. I do not venture to dispute that the accumulation of capital in the form of ready money available for speculation in state leases, farming of revenues, and other contracts, had already begun at Rome in the age of the great Punic wars. In the second war, contracts for the supply of necessaries to the armed forces played a considerable part, and we hear of contractors[602] who practised shameless frauds on the state. Greed was a plant that throve in the soil of Roman life: the scandals of the later Republic were merely the sinister developments of an old tendency favoured by opportunities. Land-grabbing in particular was, if consistent tradition may be believed, from early times a passion of Roman nobles: and the effect of a law[603] forbidding them to become ship-owners and engage in commerce was to concentrate their enterprise on the acquisition of great landed estates. Another notable fact is the large voluntary loans[604] which the government was able to raise in the critical period of the great war. In the year 210, when the financial strain was extreme, a very large contribution of the kind took place. In 204 the Senate arranged a scheme[605] for repayment in three instalments. In 200 the lenders, apparently alarmed by the delay in paying the second instalment, became clamorous. The Punic war was at an end, and war with Philip of Macedon just declared: they wanted to get their money back. We are told[606] that the state was not able to find the cash, and that the cry of many creditors was ‘there are plenty of farms for sale, and we want to buy.’ The Senate devised a middle way of satisfying them. They were to be offered the chance of acquiring the state domain-land within fifty miles of Rome at a valuation fixed by the consuls. This seems to mean, up to the amount of the instalment then in question. But they were not thereby to receive the land in full private[607] property. A quit-rent of one _as_ was to be set on each _iugerum_, in evidence that the property still belonged to the state. Thus, when the state finances should admit, they might get back their ready money if they preferred it and give back the land to the state. The offer was gladly accepted, and the land taken over on these terms was called ‘third-part land’ (_trientabulum_) as representing ⅓ of the money lent. The final instalment appears to have been paid in cash[608] in the year 196. That these patriotic creditors were men with a keen eye for a bargain, and that they made a good one in the above arrangement, is pretty clear. This is the only occasion on which we hear of the _trientabula_ plan of settling a money claim by what was in effect a perpetual lease at a nominal rent terminable by reconversion into a money claim at the pleasure of the lessee. No doubt the valuation was so made as to give the creditor a good margin of security over and above the sum secured. There was therefore no temptation to call for the cash and surrender the land. From the reference[609] to _trientabula_ in the agrarian law of 111 BC it would seem that some at least of these beneficial tenancies were still in existence after the lapse of nearly 90 years. They would pass by inheritance or sale as the ordinary _possessiones_ of state domains did, and eventually become merged in the private properties that were the final result of the land-legislation of the revolutionary age. For the capitalists, already powerful in 200 BC, became more and more powerful as time went on. And this use of public land to discharge public debts was undoubtedly a step tending to promote the formation of the great estates (_latifundia_) which were the ruin of the wholesome old land-system in a great part of Italy. With this tendency the wholesale employment of slave-labour went hand in hand. But we must not forget that the creditors in 200 BC are made to press for their money on the ground that they wanted to invest it in land, of which there was plenty then in the market. This may be a detail added by Livy himself: but surely it is more likely that he is repeating what he found in his authorities. In any case the land referred to can hardly be other than the derelict farms belonging to those who had suffered by the war. In earlier times we have traditions of men losing their lands through inability to pay the debts for which they stood pledged. In a somewhat later time we hear[610] of small farmers being bought out cheaply by neighbouring big landlords, and bullied if they made difficulty about leaving their farms. The present case is different, arising directly out of the war. The father of a family might be dead, or disinclined to go back to monotonous toil after the excitements of military life, or unable to find the extra labour for reclaiming a wasted and weed-grown farm, or means of restocking it. He or his heir would probably not have capital to tide him over the interval before the farm was again fully productive: his immediate need was probably ready money. No wonder that farms were in the market, and at prices that made a land-grabber’s mouth water. The great war certainly marked a stage in the decay of the small-farm agriculture, the healthy condition of which had hitherto been the soundest element of Roman strength. Before we leave the traditions of the early period it is necessary to refer to the question of free wage-earning labour. Have we any reason to think that under the conditions of early Rome there was any considerable class of rustic[611] wage-earners? Nearly all the passages that suggest an affirmative answer are found in the work of Dionysius, who repeatedly uses[612] the Greek word θητεύειν of this class of labour. It is represented as being practically servile, for it meant working with slaves or at least doing the work which according to the writer[613] was (even in the regal period) done by slaves. The poor Plebeians appear as loathing such service: their desire is for plots of land on which each man can work freely for himself. This desire their protectors, kings or tribunes, endeavour to gratify by allotments as occasion serves. Now that there was land-hunger from the earliest times, and that agriculture was in itself an honourable trade, we have no good reason for doubting. But that the dislike of wage-earning labour as such was the main motive of land-hunger is a more doubtful proposition. It may be true, but it sounds very like an explanation supplied by a learned but rhetorical historian. We know that Dionysius regarded Rome as a city of Greek origin. The legends of early Attica were doubtless familiar to him. We may grant that there was probably some likeness between the labour-conditions of early Rome and early Athens. But historians are ever tempted to detect analogies in haste and remodel tradition at leisure. I suspect that the two features of the same picture, the prevalence of rustic slavery and also of rustic wage-earning, are taken from different lines of tradition, and both overdrawn. In connexion with this question it is necessary to turn back to a remarkable passage[614] of Livy referring to the year 362 BC. The famous L Manlius the martinet (_imperiosus_) was threatened with a public prosecution by a tribune for misuse of his powers as dictator in the year just past. To create prejudice against the accused, the prosecutor further alleged that he had treated his son Titus with cruel severity. The young man was slow of wit and speech, but no wrongdoing had been brought home to him. Yet his father had turned him out of his city home, had cut him off from public life and the company of other youths, and put him to servile work, shutting him up in what was almost a slaves’ prison (_ergastulum_). The daily affliction of such a life was calculated to teach the dictator’s son that he had indeed a martinet for his father. To keep his son among the flocks in the rustic condition and habit of a country boor was to intensify any natural defects of his own offspring, conduct too heartless for even the brute beasts. But the young Manlius upset all calculations. On hearing what was in contemplation he started for Rome with a knife, made his way into the tribune’s presence in the morning and made him solemnly swear to drop the prosecution by a threat of killing him then and there if he did not take the oath. The tribune swore, and the trial fell through. The Roman commons were vexed to lose the chance of using their votes to punish the father for his arbitrary and unfeeling conduct, but they approved the dutiful act of the son, and took the first opportunity of electing him a military officer. This young man was afterwards the renowned T Manlius Torquatus, who followed his father’s example of severity by putting to death his own son for a breach of military discipline. The story is a fine specimen of the edifying legends kept in circulation by the Romans of later days. That the greatness of Rome was above all things due to their grim old fathers who endured hardness and sacrificed all tender affections to public duty, was the general moral of these popular tales. Exaggeration grew with repetition, and details became less and less authentic. In particular the circumstances of their own time were foisted in by narrators whose imagination did not suffice to grasp the difference of conditions in the past. In the above story we have a reference to _ergastula_, the barracoons in which the slave-gangs on great estates were confined when not actually at work. Now the system of which these private prisons were a marked feature certainly belongs to a later period, when agriculture on a large scale was widely practised, not to make a living for a man and his family, but to make a great income for a single individual by the labour of many. Here then we have a detail clearly not authentic, which throws doubt on the whole setting of the story. Again, we have agricultural labour put before us as degrading (_opus servile_). It is a punishment, banishing a young Roman from his proper surrounding in the life of Rome, and dooming him to grow up a mere clodhopper. There may have been some points in the original story of which this is an exaggerated version: for it is evident that from quite early days of the Republic men of the ruling class found it necessary to spend much time in or quite close to the city. But the representation of agriculture as a servile occupation is grossly inconsistent with the other legends glorifying the farmer-heroes of yore. It is of course quite impossible to prove that no isolated cases of a young Roman’s banishment to farm life ever occurred. But that such a proceeding was so far ordinary as fairly to be reckoned typical, is in the highest degree improbable. That later writers should invent or accept such colouring for their picture, is no wonder. In the Attic New Comedy, with which Roman society was familiarized[615] in the second century BC, this situation was found. The later conditions of Roman life, in city and country, tended to make the view of agriculture as a servile trade, capable of being rendered penal, more and more intelligible to Romans. Accordingly we find this view cynically accepted[616] by Sallust, and warmly protested against[617] by Cicero. In order to weaken the case of his client Sextus Roscius, it was urged that the young man’s father distrusted him and sent him to live the life of a boor on his farm in Umbria. Cicero, evidently anxious as to the possible effect of this construction of facts on the coming verdict, was at great pains to counter it by maintaining that the father’s decision was in truth a compliment: in looking for an honest and capable manager of his rustic estate he had found the right man in this son. The orator surely did not enlarge on this point for nothing. And it is to be noted that in insisting on the respectability of a farmer’s life he sees fit to refer to the farmer-consuls of the olden time. He feels, no doubt, that unsupported assertions[618] as to the employment of sons in agriculture by his contemporaries were not likely to carry much weight with the jury. After the above considerations I come to the conclusion that Livy’s representation of agriculture as a servile occupation in the case of Manlius is a coloured utterance of no historical value. A minute consistency is not to be looked for in the writings of an author to whom picturesqueness of detail appeals differently at different moments. For Livy was in truth deeply conscious of the sad changes in Italian country life brought about by the transition to large-scale agriculture. Under the year 385 he is driven to moralize[619] on the constant renewal of Volscian and Aequian wars. How ever did these two small peoples find armies for the long-continued struggle? He suggests possible answers to the question, the most significant of which is that in those days there was a dense free population in those districts,—districts which in his own time, he says, would be deserted but for the presence of Roman slaves. To describe vividly the decay of free population, he adds that only a poor little nursery of soldiers is left (_vix seminario exiguo militum relicto_) in those parts. The momentous results of the change of system are not more clearly grasped by Lucan or Pliny himself. Livy then is not to be cited as a witness to the existence of great numbers of rustic slaves in Italy before the second Punic war, nor even then for the highly-organized gang-system by which an industrial character was given to agriculture. One more story, and a strange one, needs to be considered, for it bears directly on the labour-question. The time in which it is placed is the latter part of the period of the Roman conquest of Italy. In a fragment[620] of one of his later books Dionysius tells us of the arbitrary doings of a consul Postumius, a Patrician of high rank who had already been twice consul. After much bullying he made his colleague, a Plebeian of recent nobility, resign to him the command in the Samnite war. This was an unpopular act, but he went on to worse. From his army he drafted some 2000 men on to his own estate, and set them to cut away brushwood without providing cutting tools (ἄνευ σιδήρου). And he kept them there a long time doing the work of wage-earners or slaves (θητῶν ἔργα καὶ θεραπόντων ὑπηρετοῦντας). Into the tale of his further acts of arbitrary insolence we need not enter here, nor into the public prosecution and condemnation to a heavy fine that awaited him at the end of his term of office. Suffice it that the story is in general confirmed[621] by Livy, and that the hero of it seems to have been remembered in Roman tradition as a classic instance of self-willed audacity and disregard of the conventions that were the soul of Roman public life. So far as the labour is concerned, it seems to me that what was objected to in the consul’s conduct was the use of his military supreme power (_imperium_) for his own private profit. He treated a fatigue-party as a farm labour-gang. Freemen might work on their own land side by side with their slaves: they might work for wages on another man’s land side by side with his slaves. Any objection they might feel would be due to the unwelcome pressure of economic necessity. But to be called out for military service (and in most cases from their own farms), and then set to farm-labour on another man’s land under military discipline, was too much. We must bear in mind that a Roman army of the early Republic was not composed of pauper adventurers who preferred a life of danger with hopes of loot and licence to hard monotonous toil. The very poor were not called out, and the ranks were filled with citizens who had at least some property to lose. Therefore it might easily happen that a soldier set to rough manual labour by Postumius had to do for him the service that was being done at home for himself by a wage-earner or a slave. He was a soldier because he was a free citizen; he was being employed in place of a slave because he was a soldier under martial law. In no free republic could such a wrong be tolerated. The words of the epitome of Livy state the case with sufficient precision. _L Postumius consularis, quoniam cum exercitui praeesset opera militum in agro suo usus erat, damnatus est._ It is remarkable that, among the other epitomators and collectors of anecdotes who drew from the store of Livy, not one, not even Valerius Maximus, records this story. To Livy it must have seemed important, or he would not have laid enough stress on it to attract the attention of the writer of the epitome. So too the detailed version of Dionysius, probably drawn from the same authority as that of Livy, struck the fancy of a maker of extracts and caused his text to be preserved to us. It surely descends, like many other of the old stories, in a line of Plebeian tradition, and is recorded as an illustration of the survival of Patrician insolence in a headstrong consul after the two Orders had been politically equalized by the Licinian laws. Beside these fragments of evidence there are in the later Roman literature many passages in which writers directly assert that their forefathers lived a life of simple frugality and worked with their own hands on their own little farms. But as evidence the value of such passages is not very great. They testify to a tradition: but in most cases the tradition is being used for the purposes of moralizing rhetoric. Now the glorification of ‘good old times’ has in all ages tempted authors to aim rather at striking contrast between past and present than at verification of their pictures of the past. To impute this defect to satirists is a mere commonplace. But those who are not professed satirists are often exposed to the same influence in a less degree. The most striking phenomenon in this kind is the chorus of poets in the Augustan age. The Emperor, aware that the character of Reformer is never a very popular one, preferred to pose as Restorer. The hint was given, and the literary world acted on it. Henceforth the praises of the noble and efficient simplicity of the ancients formed a staple material of Roman literature. XXI. ABSTRACT OF CONCLUSIONS. In reference to the early period down to 201 BC I think we are justified in coming to the following conclusions. 1. The evidence, consisting of fragmentary tradition somewhat distorted and in some points exaggerated by the influence of moral purpose on later writers, is on the whole consistent and credible. 2. From it we get a picture of agriculture as an honourable trade, the chief occupation of free citizens, who are in general accustomed to work with their own hands. 3. The Roman citizen as a rule has an allotment of land as his own, and an early classification of citizens (the ‘Servian Constitution’) was originally based on landholding, carrying with it the obligation to military service. 4. The Roman family had a place for the slave, and the slave, a domestic helper, normally an Italian, was not as yet the despised alien chattel of whom we read in a later age. 5. As a domestic he bore a part in all the labours of the family, and therefore as a matter of course in the commonest of all, agriculture. 6. In this there was nothing degrading. Suggestions to that effect are the echoes of later conditions. 7. Under such relations of master and slave it was quite natural that manumission should (as it did) operate to make the slave not only free but a citizen. That this rule led to very troublesome results in a later period was owing to change of circumstances. 8. Slavery then was, from the earliest times of which we have any tradition, an integral part of the social and economic system, as much in Italy as in Greece. It was there, and only needed the stimulus of prospective economic gain for capitalists to organize it on a crudely industrial basis, without regard to considerations of humanity or the general wellbeing of the state. 9. Of wage-earning labour on the part of freemen we have little trace in tradition. The reported complaints of day-labour performed for Patrician nobles in early times are probably not unconnected with the institution of clientship, and in any case highly coloured by rhetoric. ROME—MIDDLE PERIOD XXII. INTRODUCTORY GENERAL VIEW. The overthrow of Carthage put an end to a period of terrible anxiety to the Roman government, and the first feeling was naturally one of relief. But the sufferings of the war-weary masses had produced an intense longing for peace and rest. It might be true that a Macedonian war was necessary in the interest of the state: but it was only with great difficulty that the Senate overcame opposition to a forward policy. For the sufferings of the people, more particularly the farmers, were not at an end. The war indemnities from Carthage might refill the empty treasury, and enable the state to discharge its public obligations to contractors and other creditors. So far well: but receipts of this kind did little or nothing towards meeting the one vital need, the reestablishment of displaced peasants on the land. The most accessible districts, generally the best suited for tillage, had no doubt suffered most in the disturbances of war; and the future destinies of Rome and Italy were depending on the form that revival of agriculture would take. The race of small farmers had been hitherto the backbone of Roman power. But the wars of the last two generations had brought Rome into contact with an agricultural system of a very different character. Punic agriculture[622] was industrial: that is, conducted for profit on a large scale and directed by purely economic considerations. Cheap production was the first thing. As the modern large farmer relies on machinery, so his ancient predecessor relied on domesticated animals; chiefly on the animal with hands, the human slave. It is to be borne in mind that during the second Punic war the Roman practice of employing contractors for all manner of state services (_publica_) had been greatly developed. Companies of _publicani_ had played an active part and had thriven on their enterprises. These companies were probably already, as they certainly were in later times, great employers of slaves. In any case they represented a purely industrial and commercial view of life, the ‘economic’ as opposed to the ‘national’ set of principles. Their numbers were beyond all doubt greater than they had ever been before. With such men the future interests of the state would easily be obscured by immediate private interests, selfish appetite being whetted by the recent taste of profits. If a large section of the farmer class seemed in danger of extinction through the absorption of their farms in great estates, legislation to prevent it was not likely to have the warm support of these capitalists. That financial interests were immensely powerful in the later Roman Republic is universally admitted, but I do not think sufficient allowance is made for their influence in the time of exhaustion at the very beginning of the second century BC. The story of the _trientabula_, discussed above, is alone enough to shew how this influence was at work; and it was surely no isolated phenomenon. We have therefore reason to believe that many of the farmers dispossessed by the war never returned to their former homes, and we naturally ask what became of them. Some no doubt were unsettled and unfitted for the monotonous toil of rustic life by the habits contracted in campaigning. Such men would find urban idleness, or further military service with loot in prospect, more to their taste: some of these would try both experiences in turn. We trace their presence in the growth of a city mob, and in the enlistment of veterans to give tone and steadiness to somewhat lukewarm armies in new wars. But it is not to be assumed that this element constituted the whole, or even the greater part, of those who did not go back to their old farms. The years 200-180 saw the foundation of 19 new _coloniae_, and it is reasonable to suppose that the _coloni_ included a number of the men unsettled by the great war. The group founded in 194-2 were designed to secure the coast of southern Italy against attack by an Eastern power controlling large fleets. Those of 189-1 were in the North, the main object being to strengthen the Roman grip of Cisalpine Gaul. But already in 198-5 it had been found necessary to support the colonies on the Po (Placentia and Cremona) against attacks of the Gauls, and in 190 they were reinforced with contingents of fresh colonists. For the firm occupation of northern Italy was a policy steadily kept in view, and only interrupted for a time by the strain of Eastern wars. In trying to form a notion of the condition of agriculture in the second century BC, and particularly of the labour question, we must never lose sight of the fact that military service was still obligatory[623] on the Roman citizen, and that this was a period of many wars. The farmer-soldier, liable to be called up at any time until his forty-sixth year, might have to break off important work which could not without risk of loss be left in other hands. At the worst, a sudden call might mean ruin. Pauper wage-earners, landless men, were not reached by the military levy in the ordinary way. How soon they began to be enrolled as volunteers, and to what extent, is uncertain. But conscription of qualified citizens remained the staple method of filling the legions[624] until the famous levy held by Marius in 107. Conscription had for a long time been becoming more and more unpopular and difficult to enforce, save in cases where easy victory and abundant booty were looked for. The Roman government fell into the habit of employing chiefly the contingents of the Italian Allies in hard and unremunerative campaigns. This unfair treatment, and other wrongs to match, led to the great rebellion of 90 BC. But the grant of the Roman franchise to the Italians, extorted by force of arms, though it made more Roman citizens, could not make more Roman farmers. The truth is, a specializing process was going on. The soldier was becoming more and more a professional: farming was becoming more and more the organized exploitation of labour. Long and distant wars unfitted the discharged soldiers for the monotonous round of rustic life: while they kept the slave-market well supplied with captives, thus making it easy for capitalists to take advantage of great areas of land cheaply acquired from time to time. Moreover, the advance of Roman dominion had another effect beside the mere supply of labouring hands. It made Rome the centre of the Mediterranean world, the place where all important issues were decided, and where it was necessary to reside. The wealthy landowner was practically compelled to spend most of his time in the ruling city, in close touch with public affairs. Now this compelled him to manage his estates by stewards, keeping an eye on them so far as his engagements in Rome left him free to do so. And this situation created a demand for highly-qualified stewards. The supply of these had to come mainly from the eastern countries of old civilization. But if technical skill could thus be procured (and it was very necessary for the variety of crops that were taking the place of corn), it was generally accompanied by an oriental subtlety the devices of which were not easy to penetrate. From the warnings of the agricultural writers, as to the need of keeping a strict watch on a _vilicus_, we may fairly infer that these favoured slaves were given to robbing their masters. The master, even if he had the knowledge requisite for practical control, seldom had the leisure for frequent visits to his estate. What he wanted was a regular income to spend: and the astute steward who was always ready with the expected cash on the appointed day had little fear of reprimand or punishment. His own interest was that his own master should expect as little as possible, and it is obvious that this would not encourage a sincere effort to get the most out of the estate in a favourable year. His master’s expectations would then rise, and the disappointment of poor returns in a bad year might have serious consequences for himself. These considerations may help us to understand why the history of the later Roman Republic gives so gloomy a picture of agriculture. We find the small farmer, citizen and soldier too, dying out as a class in a great part of Italy. We find the land passing into the hands of a few large owners whose personal importance was vastly increased thereby. Whether bought cheap on a glutted market or ‘possessed’ in a sort of copyhold tenancy from the state, whether arable or pasture, it is at all events clear that the bulk of these _latifundia_ (if not the whole) had been got on very easy terms. The new holders were not hampered by lack of capital or labour, as may often have been the case with the old peasantry. Slave-labour was generally cheap, at times very cheap. Knowledge and skill could be bought, as well as bone and muscle. Like the ox and the ass, the slave was only fed and clothed and housed sufficiently to keep him fit for work: his upkeep while at work was not the canker eating up profits. With the influx of wealth, the spoils of conquest, the tribute of subject provinces, the profits of blackmail and usury, prices of almost everything were rising in the second century BC. Corn, imported and sold cheap to the Roman poor, was an exception: but the Italian landlords were ceasing to grow corn, save for local consumption. Some authorities, if not all, thought[625] that grazing paid better than tillage: and it was notorious that pasturage was increasing and cultivation declining. The slave-herdsmen, hardy and armed against wolves and brigands, were a formidable class. When combined with mutinous gladiators they were, as Spartacus shewed in 73-1 BC, wellnigh irresistible save by regular armies in formal campaigns. The owner of a vast estate, controlling huge numbers of able-bodied ruffians who had nothing to lose themselves and no inducement to spare others, was in fact a public danger if driven to desperation. He could mobilize an army of robbers and cutthroats at a few days notice, live on the country, and draw recruits from all the slave-gangs near. It was not want of power that crippled the representatives of large-scale agriculture. And yet in the last days of the Republic, when the fabric of the state was cracking under repeated strains, we are told that, among the various types of men led by financial embarrassments to favour revolutionary schemes, one well-marked group consisted of great landlords. These men, says[626] Cicero, though deep in debt, could quite well pay what they owe by selling their lands. But they will not do this: they are ‘land-proud.’ The income from their estates will not cover the interest on their debts, but they go on foolishly trying to make it do so. In this struggle they are bound to be beaten. In other words, the return on their landed estates is not enough to support a life of extravagance in Rome. So they borrow, at high interest. The creditors of course take good security, with a margin for risks. So, in order to keep the social status of a great landlord, the borrower takes a loan of less than the capital value of his land, while he has to pay for the accommodation more than the income from the land. Ruin is the certain end of such finance, and it is only in a revolution that there is any hope of ‘something turning up’ in favour of the debtor. We must not suppose that all or most of the great landlords of the day had reached the stage of embarrassment described by Cicero. That there were some in that plight, is not to be doubted, even when we have allowed freely for an orator’s overstatements. But it is hardly rash to suppose that there were some landlords who were not in debt, at least to a serious extent, either through good returns from their lands or from other investments, or even from living thriftily. What seems quite clear is that large-scale farming of land was by no means so remunerative financially as other forms of investment; and that though, as pointed out above, it was carried on with not a few points in its favour. In the same descriptive passage[627] the orator refers to another class of landowners ripe for revolution. These were the veterans of Sulla, settled by him as _coloni_ on lands of farmers dispossessed on pretext of complicity with his Marian opponents. Their estates were no doubt on a smaller scale than those of the class just spoken of above. But they were evidently comfortable allotments. The discharged soldiers made bad farmers. They meant to enjoy the wealth suddenly bestowed, and they had no notion of economy. Their extravagance, one form of which was the keeping of a number[628] of slaves, soon landed them hopelessly in debt. So they also saw their only chance of recovery in a renewal of civil war and fresh confiscations. It was said that a number of necessitous rustics (probably some of the very men ejected from the farms) were ready to join them in a campaign of plunder. Here we have a special picture of the military colonist, one of the most sinister figures in the last age of the Republic. It is no doubt highly coloured, but the group settled in Etruria were probably some of the worst specimens. In such hands agriculture could not flourish, and the true interests of Rome could hardly have suffered a more deadly blow than the transfer of Italian lands from those who could farm them to those who could not. It was not merely that lands were ‘let down.’ Italy was made less able to maintain a native population, fitted and willing to serve the state in peace and war. The effects of this diminution of the free rustic population were most seriously felt under the Empire. Writers of the Augustan age deplore[629] the disappearance of the old races in a large part of Italy, displaced by alien slaves; and their cry is repeated by later generations. The imperial country that had conquered the Mediterranean world became dependent on subjects and foreigners for her own defence. The evil plight of agriculture in Cicero’s day was merely a continuation and development of the process observable in the second century. Experience had probably moderated some of the crude and blundering methods of the land-grabbers whose doings provoked the agrarian movement of the Gracchi. But in essence the system was the same. And it was a failure, a confessed evil. Why? It is easy to reply that slave-labour is wasteful; and this is I believe an economic truism. But it is well to look a little further. Let me begin by quoting from an excellent book[630] written at a time when this subject was one of immediate practical interest. ‘The profitableness which has been attributed to slavery is profitableness estimated exclusively from the point of view of the proprietor of slaves.... The profits of capitalists may be increased by the same process by which the gross revenue of a country is diminished, and therefore the community as a whole may be impoverished through the very same means by which a portion of its number is enriched. The economic success of slavery therefore is perfectly consistent with the supposition that it is prejudicial to the material wellbeing of the country where it is established.’ These propositions I do not dispute: I had come to the same conclusion long before I read this passage. I further admit that in the case of Rome and Italy the community as a whole was impoverished by the slave-system: it was the constant influx of tributes from the provinces that kept up the appearance of wealth at the centre of empire. But whether, in the case of agriculture, the capitalist landlords were really enriched by the profits of plantation slavery, is surely a question open to doubt. Those of them whose capital sunk in great estates and gangs of slaves brought in only a moderate return, while they were borrowing at a higher rate of interest, were certainly not the richer for their landed investments. To keep up a fictitious show of solid wealth for the moment, they were marching to ruin. But the man who made his income from landed estates suffice for his needs,—can we say that he was enriched thereby? Hardly, if he was missing the chance of more remunerative investments by having his money locked up in land. He made a sacrifice, in order to gratify a social pride which had in Roman public life a certain political value. Under the Republic, this political value might be realized in the form of provincial or military appointments, profitable through various species of blackmail. But the connexion of such profits with ownership of great plantations is too remote to concern us here. A smart country-place, where influential friends could be luxuriously entertained, was politically more to the point. Now if, as seems certain, the great plantations were not always (perhaps very seldom were) a strictly economic success, though protected against Transalpine competition[631] in wine and oil, can we discern any defects in the system steadily operating to produce failure? When we admit that slave-labour is wasteful, we mean that its output as compared with that of free labour is not proportionate to the time spent. Having no hope of bettering his condition, the slave does only just enough to escape punishment; having no interest in the profits of the work, he does it carelessly. If, as we know, the free worker paid by time needs constant watching to keep him up to the mark, much more is this true of the slave. Hence a system of piece-work is disliked by the free man and hardly applicable in practice to the case of the slave. But we are not to forget that the slave, having been bought and paid for, draws no money wage. The interest on his prime cost is on the average probably much less than a free man’s wage; but the master cannot pay him off and be rid of him when the job is done. The owned labourer is on his owner’s hands so long as that owner owns him. Against this we must set the very low standard of feeding clothing housing etc allowed in the case of the slave. Nor must we ignore the economic advantage of slavery as ensuring a permanent supply of labour: for the free labourer was (and is) not always to be had when wanted. These were pretty certainly the considerations that underlay the organization described by the Roman writers on _res rustica_; a regular staff of slaves for everyday work, supplemented by hired labour at times of pressure or for special jobs. And the growing difficulty of getting hired help probably furnished the motive for developing the system of _coloni_. By letting parcels of an estate to small tenants a landlord could secure the presence of resident freemen in his neighbourhood. These in their spare time could be employed as labourers. At how early a date stipulation for labour in part payment of their rents placed such tenants on a ‘soccage’ footing is not certain. It has rightly or not, been detected in Columella. At all events it contained the germ of predial serfdom. Now, so long as slave-labour was the permanent and vital element in agriculture, success or failure depended entirely on the efficiency of direction and control. Accordingly the regular organization of a great estate was a complete hierarchy. At the head was the _vilicus_, having under him foremen skilled in special branches of farm work and head-shepherds and the like. Even among the rank and file of the slaves many had special duties occupying all or part of their time, for it was an object to fix responsibility. But it is clear that the efficiency of the whole organization depended on that of the _vilicus_. And he was a slave, the chattel of a master who could inflict on him any punishment he chose. The temptation to rob his master[632] for his own profit was probably not nearly so strong as we might on first thoughts suppose. If he had contrived to hoard the fruits of his pilferings in portable cash, what was he to do with it? He was not free to abscond with it. He would be well known in the neighbourhood: if any slave could escape detection as a runaway, it would not be he. And detection meant the loss of all his privileges as steward, with severe punishment to boot. His obvious policy was to cling to his stewardship, to induce his master to let him keep a few beasts of his own (as _peculium_)[633] on some corner of the estate, and to wait on events. It might be that he looked forward to manumission after long service. But I cannot find any authority for such a supposition, or any concrete instance of a manumitted _vilicus_. This inclines me to believe that in practice to such a man manumission was no boon. He was in most cases a native of some distant country, where he had long been forgotten. The farm of his lord was the nearest thing he had to a home. I am driven to suppose that as a rule he kept his post as long as he could discharge its duties, and then sank into the position of a quasi-pensioned retainer who could pay for his keep by watching his successor. Ordinary slaves when worn out may have been put to light duties about the farm, care of poultry etc, and he might direct them, so far as the new steward allowed. I am guessing thus only in reference to average cases. The brutal simplicity of selling off worn-out slaves for what they would fetch was apparently not unknown, and is approved[634] by Cato. It has been briefly hinted above that the steward’s obvious interest lay in preventing his master from expecting too much in the way of returns from the estate. The demand for net income, that is to say the treatment of agriculture as an investment yielding a steady return year in and year out, was economically unsound. A landlord in public life wanted a safe income; interest on good debentures, as we should say. But to guarantee this some capitalist was needed to take the risks of business, of course with the prospect of gaining in good years more than he lost in bad ones. Now the Roman landlord had no such protection. In a business subject to unavoidable fluctuations he was not only entitled to the profits but liable to the losses. Imagine him just arrived from Rome, pledged already to some considerable outlay on shows or simple bribery, and looking for a cash balance larger than that shewn at the last audit. Let the steward meet him with a tale of disaster, and conceive his fury. Situations of this kind must surely have occurred, perhaps not very seldom: and one of the two men was in the absolute power of the other. We need not imagine the immediate[635] sequel. Stewards on estates for miles round would be reminded of their own risks of disgrace and punishment, and would look to their own security. I suggest that the habitual practice of these trusted men was to keep the produce of an estate down to a level at which it could easily be maintained; and, if possible, to represent it as being even less than it really was. Thus they removed a danger from themselves. This policy implied an easygoing management of the staff, but the staff were not likely to resent or betray it. A master like Cato was perhaps not to be taken in by a device of the kind: but Catos were rare, and the old man’s advice to look sharply after your _vilicus_ sounds as if he believed many masters to be habitually fooled by their plausible stewards. If such was indeed the case, here we have at once a manifest cause of the decline of agriculture. The restriction of production would become year by year easier to arrange and conceal, harder and harder to detect. The employment of freemen[636] as stewards seems not to have been tried as a remedy; partly perhaps because they would have insisted on good salaries, partly because they were free to go,—and, if rogues[637], not empty-handed. The cause to which I have pointed is one that could continue operating from generation to generation, and was likely so to continue until such time as the free farmer should once more occupy the land. The loving care that agriculture needs could only return with him. It was not lack of technical knowledge that did the mischief; Varro’s treatise is enough to prove that. It was the lack of personal devotion in the landlords and motive in the stewards. Principles without practice failed, as they have failed and will fail. Nor must we lay much stress on the disturbances of the revolutionary period. Had these, damaging though they were, been the effective cause of decline, surely the long peace under the early Empire would have led to a solid revival. But, though a court poet might sing of revival to please his master, more serious witnesses tell a different tale. In the middle of the first century AD we have Lucan Columella and the elder Pliny. If Lucan’s pictures of the countryside peopled with slave-gangs, and of the decay of free population, are suspected as rhetorically overdrawn, at least they agree with the evidence of Livy in the time of Augustus, so far as the parts near Rome are concerned. Columella[638] gravely deplores the neglect of agriculture, in particular the delegation of management to slaves. The landlord and his lady have long abdicated their interest in what was once a noble pursuit: it is now a degrading one, and their places are taken by the _vilicus_ and _vilica_. Yet all he can suggest is a more perfect organization of the slave-staff, and the letting of outlying farms to tenants. Pliny tells the same woeful story. And while he vents his righteous indignation on the _latifundia_ that have ruined Italy, he also mentions instances of great profits[639] made by cultivators of vines and olives on estates of quite moderate size. But these successful men were not of the social aristocracy: they were freedmen or other humble folks who themselves looked sharply after their own business. Therefore, when we are told[640], and rightly, that with establishment of the Empire the political attraction of Rome was lessened, and that the interest of wealthy landlords became more strictly economic in character, we must not be in haste to identify this change with a return of genuine prosperity. That a sort of labour-crisis followed the restoration of peace is reasonably inferred from the fact that the kidnapping[641] of freemen, and their incorporation in the slave-gangs of great estates, was one of the abominations with which the early Principate had to deal. In a more peaceful world the supply of new slaves fell off, and the price doubtless rose. It would seem that at the same time free wage-earners were scarce, as was to be expected after the civil wars. So the highwayman, probably often a discharged soldier, laid hands on the unprotected wayfarer. After taking his purse, he made a profit of his victim’s person by selling him as a slave to some landowner in need of labourers, who asked no questions. Once in the _ergastulum_ the man had small chance of regaining his freedom unless and until an inspection of these private prisons was undertaken by the government. Such phenomena are not likely to be the inventions of sensational writers; for the government, heavily weighted with other responsibilities, was driven to intervene and put down the scandal. But to do this was not to supply the necessary labour. That problem remained, and in the attempt to solve it an important development in the organization of large estates seems to have taken place. While the regular labour was as before furnished by the slave-staff, and greater care taken[642] to avoid losses by sickness, and while even the breeding of slaves under certain restrictions was found worthy of attention, the need of extra hands at certain seasons was met by an arrangement for retaining potential free labourers within easy reach. This was an extension of the system of tenant _coloni_. Parcels of the estate were let to small farmers, whose residence was thereby assured. Columella[643] advises a landlord in dealing with his tenants to be more precise in exacting from them work (_opus_) than rent (_pensiones_), and Weber[644] takes _opus_ to mean not merely the proper cultivation of their several plots but a stipulated amount of labour on the lord’s farm. The practice of exacting labour from debtors[645] in discharge of their debt was not a new one, and this arrangement seems to be the same in a more systematic form. By taking care to keep the little farm sufficiently small, and fixing the rent sufficiently high, the tenant was pretty certain to be often behind with his rent. In such conditions, even if the tenant did not encumber himself by further borrowing, it is clear that he was very liable to sink into a ‘soccage’ tenant, bound to render regular services without wage. Nominally free, he was practically tied to the soil; while the landlord, nominally but the owner of the soil, gradually acquired what was of more value than a money rent,—the ownership of his tenant’s services. In the growing scarcity of slave labour the lord had a strong motive for insisting on his rights, and so the free worker travelled down the road to serfdom. In reviewing the history of rustic slavery, and its bearing on the 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. The leading fact relative to the staff is that the steward or head man (_vilicus_) under whom the various workers, slave or free, are employed is himself a slave. So too the _vilica_, usually his consort. Their position is made quite clear by liability to punishment and by their disqualification[686] from performance of all save the most ordinary and trivial religious ceremonies. Their duties are defined by jealous regulations. But in order to keep the steward up to the mark the master must often visit the estate. It is significant that he is advised on arrival to make a round of the place[687] without delay, and not to question his steward until he has thus formed his own impressions independently. Then he can audit accounts, check stores, listen to excuses, give orders, and reprimand failure or neglect. That the master needed to be a man of knowledge and energy in order to make his estate a source of profit when in charge of a steward, is evident. It may well be that Cato insists so strongly on the need of these qualities because they were becoming rare among the nobles of his day. But, though he knew that the efficiency of a slave steward could only be maintained by constant and expert watching, he never suggests the employment of a free man in that capacity. The truth seems to be that the ‘Manager,’ a man paid by salary or percentage and kept up to the mark by fear of ‘losing his place,’ is a comparatively modern figure. In antiquity the employment of Freedmen in positions of trust was a move in that direction, though patrons kept a considerable hold, beyond the purely economic one, on their freedmen. But for charge of a farm Cato does not suggest employment of a freedman. The blending of free and slave labour might well have been brought out more clearly than it is: but to the author writing for his own contemporaries it would seem needless to enlarge upon a condition which everyone took for granted. Yet there are passages where it is indicated plainly enough. Thus in the olive-press room a bed is provided[688] for two free _custodes_ (apparently foremen) out of three: the third, a slave, is put to sleep with the _factores_, who seem to be the hands employed[689] to work the press, probably slaves, whose labour is merely bodily exertion. The _leguli_ who gather up the olives are probably free, for they are interested[690] in making the amount so gathered as large as possible. Strippers, _strictores_, who pluck the olives from the tree, are also mentioned[691] in the chapter dealing with the harvesting of a hanging crop by a contractor. As the need of care to avoid damaging the trees is insisted on, and all the workers are to take a solemn oath[692] that they have stolen none of the crop, we may fairly infer that they are freemen. When the process of manufacture is let to a contractor, his _factores_ are to take a similar oath, and are probably free. So too when a crop is sold hanging: if the buyer neglects to pay[693] his _leguli_ and _factores_ (which would cause delay) the landlord may pay them himself and recover the amount from the buyer. On the other hand in the grazing department the underlings are slaves. In case of the sale of winter grazing, provision is made[694] for an arbitration for settlement of damages done by the _emptor aut pastores aut pecus emptoris_ to the _dominus_, or by the _dominus aut familia aut pecus_ to the _emptor_. And, until the compensation awarded is paid, the _pecus aut familia_ on the ground is to be held in pledge by the party to whom compensation is due. This would generally be the landlord, and the _familia_ of the _emptor_ would be his _pastores_. Even so, when a speculator buys the season’s lambs, he provides a _pastor_ for two months, and the man is held in pledge[695] by the landlord until the account is finally settled. There are casual references to other persons employed on the estate whose condition has to be inferred from various indications with more or less certainty. Thus the _capulator_, who draws off the oil from the press into vessels, is connected with the _custos_[696] and is not clearly distinct from him. He may be a slave, but the call for strict cleanliness and care at this stage of the operations rather suggests the free wage-earner. An _epistates_ is mentioned[697] in a chapter on food-rations (_familiae cibaria_), and grouped with the _vilicus_ and _vilica_ and the _opilio_. They receive less food than the common hands engaged in rough manual labour. They are probably all slaves, the _epistates_ being a foreman of some sort, and the _opilio_ the head shepherd, the _magister pecoris_ of whom we often hear later. In the estimates[698] of the equipment required for a farm with oliveyard or vineyard the human staff is included with the other live and dead stock. The _operarii_ mentioned in this connexion are evidently slave hands, and the _bubulcus[699] subulcus asinarius opilio_ and _salictarius_ are the same, only specialized in function. For an oliveyard of 240 _iugera_ the human staff is put at 13 (_summa homines xiii_), for a vineyard of 100 _iugera_ it is 16, and the _operarii_ in particular are 10 as against 5. The greater amount of digging[700] needed on a farm chiefly devoted to vines is the reason of the difference. These estimates are for the permanent staff, the _familia_, owned by the landlords in the same way as the oxen asses mules sheep goats or pigs. So far as common daily labour is concerned, this staff should make the farm self-sufficing. But there were many operations, connected with the life of the farm, for performing which it was either not desirable or not possible to rely on the regular staff. It would never have paid to maintain men skilled in the work of special trades only needed on rare occasions. Thus for erecting buildings the _faber_[701] is called in: the landlord finds materials, the builder uses them and is paid for his work. Lime is needed for various purposes, and it may be worth while[702] to have a kiln on the estate and do the burning there. But even so it is well to employ a regular limeburner (_calcarius_) for the job. The landlord finds limestone and fuel, and a way of payment is to work on shares (_partiario_) each party taking his share of the lime. The same share-system (according to Keil’s text) is proposed for the operation known as _politio_, which seems to include[703] weeding and ‘cleaning’ of the land, at least for cereal crops, and also is prescribed for the skilled tending of a vineyard. For such works as these it is fairly certain that the persons employed were assumed to be living in the neighbourhood. In the case of the blacksmith[704] (_faber ferrarius_) there can be no doubt, for his forge is spoken of as a fit place for drying grapes, hung presumably in the smoke of his wood fire. Now all these skilled men are evidently free, and work on agreed terms. Some of them are certainly not singlehanded, but whether their underlings are freemen or slaves or both we are left to guess. In all cases their work is such as calls not only for skill and industry but also for good faith, which cannot be expected from slaves. It is in short contract-work, whether the bargain be made in a formal agreement or not. The employment of contractors, each with his own staff, at times of pressure such as the getting in and disposal of crops, has been referred to above, and it has been remarked that some at least of this emergency-labour was performed by freemen. We must therefore conclude that in Cato’s time there was a considerable supply of casual labourers in country districts, on whose services landlords could rely. The contractor would seem to have been either a ‘ganger’ who bargained for terms with the landlord on behalf of his work-party, or a capitalist owning a gang of slaves. What made the difference would be the nature of the job in hand, according as skill or mere brute strength was chiefly required. But that slave labour was the essential factor, on which Catonian agriculture normally depended, is beyond all doubt. The slave steward is not only responsible[705] for the control of the slave staff (_familia_) and their wellbeing and profitable employment. He is authorized to employ other labour, even free labour, at need; only he must not keep such persons hanging about the place. He is to pay them off and discharge them without delay, no doubt in order to prevent them from unsettling the slaves by their presence. And slaves must never be idle. When a master calls his steward to account for insufficient results on the farm, the latter is expected to plead in excuse not only the weather but shortage of hands; slaves have been sick or have run away; or they have been employed[706] on state-work (_opus publicum effecisse_),—probably in mending the roads, for this is recognized below. XXIV. AGRICULTURE IN THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. From the death of Cato in 149 BC to the date of Varro’s book _de re rustica_ (about 37 BC) is a space of more than a century. The one great fact of this momentous period in relation to agriculture is the public recognition of the decay of the small farmers over a large part of Italy, and the vain attempt to revive a class well known to have been the backbone of Roman strength. But the absorption of small holdings in large estates had already gone so far in the affected districts that there was practically only one direction in which land-reformers could move. To confiscate private property was forbidden by Roman respect for legal rights: it appears in Roman history only after the failure of the Gracchan movement, and as a phenomenon of civil war. There were however great areas of land of which the state was still in law proprietor, held by individuals (often in very large blocks) under a system of recognized occupation known as _possessio_. Tradition alleged that in Rome’s early days this _ager publicus_ had been a cause of quarrels between the needy Commons who hungered for land and the rich nobles who strove to monopolize the land annexed by war and now state-property. It was known that one of the effects produced by the political equalization of the Orders in the fourth century BC had been legislation to restrain land-monopoly. But the Licinian laws of 367 BC had not made an end of the evil. Soon evaded, they had become in course of time wholly inoperative. The new Patricio-Plebeian nobility quieted the claims of the poor by colonial foundations and allotments of land in newly-conquered districts, while they continued to enrich themselves by ‘possession’ of the public land. Undisturbed possession gradually obscured the distinction between such holdings and the estates held in full ownership as _ager privatus_. Boundaries were confused: mixed estates changed hands by inheritance or sale without recognition of a legal difference in the tenure of different portions: where improvements had been carried out, they applied indistinguishably to lands owned or possessed. The greater part of these _possessiones_ was probably not arable but pasture, grazed by numerous flocks and herds in charge of slave herdsmen. Now in Cato’s time the imports of foreign corn were already rendering the growth of cereal crops for the market an unremunerative enterprise in the most accessible parts of Italy. Grazing paid better. It required fewer hands, but considerable capital and wide areas of pasturage. It could be combined with the culture of the vine and olive; for the live-stock, brought down to the farmstead in the winter months, supplied plentiful manure. Moreover, the wholesale employment of slaves enabled a landlord to rely on a regular supply of labour. The slave was not liable to military service: so the master was not liable to have his staff called up at short notice. In short, economic influences, aided by selfish or corrupt administration of the laws under the rule of the nobility, gave every advantage to the rich landlords. No wonder that patriotic reformers viewed the prospect with alarm, and sought some way of promoting a revival of the peasant farmers. The story of the Gracchan movement and the causes of its failure are set forth from various points of view in histories[707] of Rome and special monographs. What concerns us here is to remark that its remedial legislation dealt solely with land belonging to the state and occupied by individuals. Power was taken to ascertain its boundaries, to resume possession on behalf of the state, and to parcel it out in allotments among needy citizens. How far success in the aim of restoring a free citizen population in the denuded districts was ever possible, we cannot tell. But we know that it did not in fact succeed. By 111 BC whatever had been achieved[708] was finally annulled. The bulk of the _ager publicus_ had disappeared. The sale of land-allotments, at first forbidden, had been permitted, and the process of buying out the newly created peasantry went on freely. But large estates formed under the new conditions were subject to no defect of title. They were strictly private property, though the term _possessiones_ still remained in use. Slave-labour on such estates was normal as before. Indeed rustic slavery was now at its height. This short period of attempted land-reform comes between the two great Sicilian slave-wars (135-2 and 103-99 BC), in the events of which the horrors of contemporary agriculture were most vividly expressed. It was also a time of great wars abroad, in Gaul, in Africa, and against the barbarian invaders from the North. Roman armies suffered many defeats, and the prestige of Roman power was only restored by the military remodelling under Marius. When Marius finally threw over the principle that military service was a duty required of propertied citizens, and raised legions from the poorest classes, volunteering with an eye to profit, he in effect founded the Empire. We can hardly help asking[709] from what quarters he was able to draw these recruits. Some no doubt were idlers already living in Rome attracted by the distributions of cheap corn provided by the Government in order to keep quiet the city mob. But these can hardly have been a majority of the recruits of this class. Probably a number came in from rural districts, hearing that Marius was calling for volunteers and prepared to disregard altogether the obsolete rules which had on occasion been evaded by others before him. It is perhaps not too bold a conjecture to suggest that the casual wage-earners, the _mercennarii_ referred to by Cato, were an important element in the New Model army of Marius. This landless class, living from hand to mouth, may have been declining in numbers, but they were by no means extinct. We meet them later in Varro and elsewhere. And no man knew better than Marius the military value of men hardened by field-labour, particularly when led to volunteer by hopes of earning a higher reward in a career of more perils and less monotony. It can hardly be supposed that agriculture throve under the conditions prevailing in these troubled years. The tendency must have been to reduce the number of free rustic wage-earners, while each war would bring captives to the slave-market. We can only guess at these economic effects. The following period of civil wars, from the Italian rising in 90 BC to the death of Sulla in 78, led to a further and more serious disturbance of the land-system. The dictator had to reward his soldiery, and that promptly. The debt was discharged by grants of land, private land, the owners of which were either ejected for the purpose or had been put to death. Of the results of this wholesale confiscation and allotment we have abundant evidence, chiefly from Cicero. Making full allowance for exaggeration and partisan feeling, it remains sufficient to shew that Sulla’s military colonists were economically a disastrous failure, while both they and the men dispossessed to make room for them soon became a grave political danger. The discharged soldiers desired an easy life as proprietors, and the excitements of warfare had unfitted them for the patient economy of farming. They bought slaves; but slaves cost money, and the profitable direction of slave-labour was an art calling for a degree of watchfulness and skill that few landlords of any class were willing or able to exert. So this substitution of new landowners for old was an unmixed evil: the new men failed as farmers, and we hardly need to be told that the feeling of insecurity produced by the confiscations was a check on agricultural improvements for the time. Those of the ‘Sullan men’ who sold their allotments (evading the law) would certainly not get a good price, and the money would soon melt away. It will be seen that the old Roman system, under which the ordinary citizen was a peasant farmer who served the state as a soldier when needed, was practically at an end. Compulsory levies were on certain occasions resorted to, for no abolition of the old liability to service had taken place: but voluntary enlistment of young men, and their conversion into professional soldiers by technical training, was henceforth the normal method of forming Roman armies. Armies were kept on foot for long campaigns, and the problem of their peaceful disbandment was one of the most serious difficulties of the revolutionary age. The treasury had no large income to spend on money-pensions, so the demand for allotments of land became a regular accompaniment of demobilization. Meanwhile the desperate condition of landlords in important districts, and the danger from the slave-gangs, were forcibly illustrated in the rising under Spartacus (73-1 BC) and the Catilinarian conspiracy. It is unfortunate that the scope of the land-bill of Rullus[710] in 63, defeated by Cicero, is uncertain, and the effect of Caesar’s land-law of 59 hardly less so. But one thing seems clear. In default of sufficient lands suitable for allotment, legislators were driven to propose the resumption of the rich Campanian domain. This public estate had long been let to tenants, real farmers, in small holdings; and the rents therefrom were one of the safest sources of public income. To disturb good tenants, and give the best land in Italy to untried men as owners, was surely a bad business. It shews to what straits rulers were driven to find land for distribution. To enter into the details of the various land-allotments between the abortive proposal of Rullus and the final settlement of Octavian would be out of place here. But it is well to note that the plan of purchasing private land for pension-allotments, proposed in the bill of Rullus, was actually carried out by the new Emperor and proudly recorded[711] by him in his famous record of the achievements of his life. The violent transfer of landed properties from present holders to discharged soldiers of the triumviral armies had evidently been both an economic failure and a political evil. To pay for estates taken for purpose of distribution was a notable step towards restoration of legality and public confidence. Whether it immediately brought about a revival of agriculture on a sound footing is a question on which opinions may justifiably differ. Much will depend on the view taken by this or that inquirer of the evidence of Varro and the Augustan poets Horace and Vergil. NOTE—In Prendergast’s _Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland_ (ed 2, 1870), chapter IV a, much interesting matter may be found. Cruel expulsions, corrupt influences, and the sale of their lots by soldiers to officers, their frequent failure as cultivators, etc, stand out clearly. The analogy to the Roman cases must of course not be too closely pressed, as the conditions were not identical. XXV. VARRO. =M Terentius Varro= wrote his treatise _de re rustica_ in 37-6 BC at the age of 80. The subject was only one of an immense number to which he devoted his talents and wide learning when not actively engaged in public duties. The last republican rally under Brutus and Cassius had failed at Philippi in 42, and the Roman world was shared out between the Triumvirs. In 36 the suppression of Lepidus declared what was already obvious, that Antony and Octavian were the real holders of power and probable rivals. Proscriptions, confiscations, land-allotments to soldiers, the wars with Antony’s brother Lucius and the great Pompey’s son Sextus, had added to the unsettlement and exhaustion of Italy. If it appeared to Varro that a treatise on farming would be opportune (and we may fairly conjecture that it did), there was surely much to justify his opinion in the distressful state of many parts of the country. But at this point we are met by a passage[712] in the work itself which seems to prove that he took a very different view of present agricultural conditions in Italy. Some of the speakers (the book is in form a dialogue) declare that no country is better cultivated than Italy, that no other country is so fully cultivated all through (_tota_), that Italian crops are in general the best of their several kinds, and in particular that Italy is one great orchard. Instances in point are given. That Varro, like Cicero, took great care[713] to avoid anachronisms and improbabilities, that his characters are real persons, and that he tries hard to fit the several topics to the several characters, is not to be denied. But it is perhaps too much to assume that such general remarks as those just cited are meant to represent the known personal opinions of the speakers. If we could be sure of the date at which the dialogue is supposed to be held, we might have a more satisfactory standard for estimating the significance and historical value of these utterances. Unluckily we have no convincing evidence as to the intended date. The scene of the second book can be laid in 67 BC with reasonable certainty, and that of the third in 54 BC. But no passage occurs in the first book sufficient to furnish material for a like inference. When Stolo refers[714] to Varro’s presence with the fleet and army at Corcyra, some have thought that he has in mind the time of the civil war in 49 BC. It is much more likely that the reference is to Varro’s service[715] as one of Pompey’s lieutenants in the pirate war of 67 BC. The dialogue of Book I would then be placed after the summer of that year, probably not much later. The boast of the speakers as to the splendid cultivation of Italy in general would refer to the time when the disturbance caused by the confiscations and assignations of Sulla was dying down and the rising of Spartacus had lately been suppressed. It would be placed before the later disturbances caused by measures designed to satisfy the claims of Pompeian Caesarian and Triumviral armies. Vergil had not yet been driven from his Cisalpine farm. Whether by placing Book I in this interval, and by supposing that the circumstances of that time would fit the utterances of Varro’s characters, I am exceeding the limits of sober guesswork, I cannot judge. But I am convinced that in any case upland pastures and forest-lands[716] accounted for a very large part of the surface of Italy then, as they do still. Indeed Varro recognizes this in his references to the migration of flocks and herds according to the seasons, and particularly when he notes not only the great stretches of rough land to be traversed but also the need of active and sturdy _pastores_ able to beat off the assaults of wild beasts and robbers. Surely the complete cultivation of Italy, compared as it is with that of other countries, is a description not to be taken literally, but as a natural exaggeration in the mouth of a self-complacent Roman agriculturist. Be this as it may, the treatise marks a great advance on that of Cato in some respects. Many details are common to both writers, in particular the repeated insistence on the main principle that whatever the farmer does must be made to pay. Profit, not sentiment or fancy, was their common and truly Roman aim. But in the century or more that had elapsed since Cato wrote other authors (such as Saserna) had treated of farming, and much had been learnt from Greek and Punic authorities. Knowledge of the products and practices of foreign lands had greatly increased, and Varro, who had himself added to this store, made free use of the wider range of facts now at the service of inquirers. And the enlarged outlook called for a systematic method. Accordingly Varro’s work is clearly divided into three discussions, of tillage (Book I), grazing and stock-breeding (II), and keeping fancy animals (III) chiefly to supply the market for table-luxuries. And he goes into detail in a spirit different from that of Cato. Cato jerked out dogmatic precepts when he thought fit, for instance his wonderful list of farm-requisites. Varro is more concerned with the principles, the reasons for preferring this or that method, derived from the theories and experience of the past. For instance, in estimating the staff required, he insists[717] on its being proportioned to the scale of the work to be done: as the average day’s work (_opera_) varies in efficiency according to the soil, it is not possible to assign a definite number of hands to a farm of definite area. Nor is he content simply to take slave-labour, supplemented by hired free labour and contract-work, for granted. In a short but important passage he discusses the labour-question, with reasons for the preference of this or that class of labour for this or that purpose, of course preferring whichever is likely to give the maximum of profit with the minimum of loss. It is this passage[718] that is chiefly of interest from my present point of view, and I will therefore translate it in full. ‘So much for the four conditions[719] of the farm that are connected with the soil, and the second four external to the farm but bearing on its cultivation. Now for the appliances used in tillage. Some classify these under two heads (_a_) men (_b_) the implements necessary for their work. Others under three[720] heads (_a_) the possessed of true speech (_b_) the possessed of inarticulate speech (_c_) the speechless. In these classes respectively are included[721] (_a_) slaves (_b_) oxen (_c_) waggons, and such are the three kinds of equipment. The men employed in all tillage are either slaves or freemen or both. Free labour is seen in the case of those who till their[722] land themselves, as poor peasants[723] with the help of their families mostly do: or in that of wage-earners[724], as when a farmer hires free hands to carry out the more important operations on his farm, vintage or hay-harvest and the like: such also are those who were called “tied men”[725] in Italy, a class still numerous in Asia Egypt and Illyricum. Speaking of these[726] as a class, I maintain that in the tillage of malarious land[727] it pays better to employ free wage-earners than slaves; even in a healthy spot the more important operations, such as getting in vintage or harvest, are best so managed. As to their qualities, Cassius writes thus: in buying[728] labourers you are to choose men fit for heavy work, not less than 22 years of age and ready to learn farm-duties. This you can infer from giving them other tasks and seeing how they perform them, or by questioning[729] new slaves as to the work they used to do under their former owner. Slaves should be neither timid nor high-spirited. Their overseers[730] should be men able to read and write, in fact with a touch of education, honest fellows, somewhat older than the mere labourers just mentioned. For these are more willing to obey their elders. Above all things the one indispensable quality in overseers is practical knowledge of farming. For the overseer is not only to give orders, but to take part in carrying them out; so that the slave may do as he sees the overseer do, and note the reasonableness of his own subordination to one his superior in knowledge. On the other hand the overseer should not be allowed to enforce obedience by the lash rather than by reprimand,—of course supposing that the same effect[731] is produced. Again, you should not buy too many slaves of the same race, for nothing breeds trouble in the household[732] more than this. For the overseers there should be rewards to make them keen in their work: care should be taken to allow them a private store[733] and slave concubines to bear them children, a tie which steadies them and binds them more closely to the estate. It is these family ties that distinguish the slave-gangs from Epirus and give them a high market-value. You should grant favours to overseers to gain their goodwill, and also to the most efficient of the common hands; with these it is also well to talk over the work that is to be undertaken, for it makes them think that their owner takes some account of them and does not utterly despise them. They can be given more interest in their work by more generous treatment in the way of food or clothing, or by a holiday or by leave to keep a beast or so of their own at grass on the estate, or other privileges: thus any who have been overtasked or punished may find some comfort[734] and recover their ready goodwill towards their owner.’ This passage well illustrates the advance in scientific treatment of the subject since the time of Cato. The analysis and classification may not be very profound, but it tends to orderly method, not to oracles. The influence of Greek writings is to be traced, for instance in the rules for the choice and treatment of slaves. The writings of Aristotle and his school had been studied in Rome since the great collection had been brought by Sulla from the East. How far Varro actually borrows from Aristotle or Plato or Xenophon is not always easy to say. The advice to avoid getting too many slaves of one race or too spirited, and to use sexual relations as a restraining tie, were by this time common-places of slave-management, and appear under Cato in somewhat cruder practical forms. But Varro is involved in the difficulties that have ever beset those who try to work on double principles, to treat the slave as at once the chattel of an owner and a partner in common humanity. So he tells his reader ‘manage your slaves as men, if you can get them to obey you on those terms; if not,—well, you must make them obey—flog them.’ Humanitarian principles have not gone far in the system of Varro, who looks solely from the master’s point of view. The master gets rather more out of his slaves when they work to gain privileges than when they work merely to escape immediate punishment. So he is willing to offer privileges, and the prospect of promotion to the higher ranks of the staff. Overseers and the best of the common hands may form a little quasi-property of their own by the master’s leave. But these _peculia_ do not seem to be a step on the road to manumission, of which we hear nothing in this treatise. We are left to infer that rustic slaves on estates generally remained there when past active work, tolerated hangers-on, living on what they could pick up, and that to have acquired some _peculium_ was a comfortable resource in old age. In short, the hopes of the worn-out rustic bondman were limited indeed. When we note Varro’s attitude towards free labour we cannot wonder that humanitarianism is not conspicuous in his treatment of slavery. Hired men are more to be trusted than slaves, so you will employ them, as Cato advised, for jobs that need care and honesty and that cannot wait. But he adds a sinister hint as to employing them on work dangerous to health. Your own slaves for whom you have paid good money are too valuable to be exposed to such risks. The great merit of the _mercennarius_ is that, when the job is done and his wage paid, you have done with him and have no further responsibility. This brutally industrial view is closely connected with the legal atmosphere of Roman civilization, in which Varro lived and moved. The debtor discharging his debt by serving his creditor as a farm-hand, once an ordinary figure in Italy, was now only found abroad: Varro mentions this unhappy class, for he is not thinking of Italy alone. It is interesting to hear from him that peasant-farmers were not extinct in Italy. But we are not told whether they were still numerous or whether they were mostly to be found in certain districts, as from other authorities we are tempted to infer. Nor do we learn whether men with small farms of their own often went out as wage-earners; nor again whether landless _mercennarii_ were in his time a numerous class. These omissions make it very difficult for us to form any clear and trustworthy picture of rural conditions as they presented themselves to Varro. It would seem that they were in general much the same as in Cato’s time, but that Varro is more inclined to discuss openly some details that Cato took for granted. So in his turn Varro takes some things for granted, passing lightly over details that we cannot but wish to know. There is however one important matter, ignored by Cato (at least in his text as we have it), to which reference is found in Varro. It is the presence of the free tenant farmer (_colonus_) in the agricultural system of Italy. He tells us that the formal lease[735] of a farm usually contained a clause by which the _colonus_ was forbidden to graze a she-goat’s offspring on the farm. In another passage[736] the same prohibition is mentioned, but with this limitation, that it applies only to land planted with immature saplings. So poisonous were the teeth of nibbling goats thought to be. The restriction imposed on the tenant suggests that the landlord was bargaining at an advantage; the lessor could dictate his terms to the lessee. That the tenant farmers of this period were at least in some cases humble dependants of their landlords is clearly shewn by a passage[737] of Caesar. In order to hold Massalia for Pompey in 49 BC, Domitius raised a squadron of seven ships, the crews for which he made up from his own[738] slaves freedmen and tenants. Soon after he refers to this force[739] as the tenants and herdsmen brought by Domitius. These herdsmen are no doubt some of the slaves before mentioned. It is evident that the free retainers called tenants are not conceived as having much choice in the matter when their noble lord called them out for service. Probably their effective freedom consisted in the right to own property (if they could get it), to make wills, to rear children of their own, and other like privileges. But their landlord would have so great a hold[740] on them that, though in theory freemen, they were in practice compelled to do his bidding. In later times we shall find the tenant farmer a common figure in rural life, but very dependent on his landlord; and it is by no means clear that his position had ever been a strong and independent one. Of Varro all we can say is that he does refer to farm-tenancy as a business-relation, and infer from his words that in that relation the landowner had the upper hand. Beside what we may call the legal sense of ‘tenant,’ Varro also uses _colonus_ in its older sense of ‘cultivator.’ In discussing the convenience of being able to supply farm needs, and dispose of farm surplus, in the neighbourhood, he points out that the presence or absence of this advantage may make all the difference whether a farm can be made to pay or not. For instance, it is seldom worth while to keep skilled craftsmen[741] of your own: the death of one such specialist sweeps away the (year’s) profit of the farm. Only rich landowners can provide for such services in their regular staff. So the usual practice of _coloni_ is to rely on local men for such services, paying a yearly fee and having a right to their attendance at call. The _coloni_ here are simply ‘farmers,’ and there is nothing to shew that they do not own their farms. The connexion with the verb _colere_ appears even more strongly where _pastor_ is contrasted[742] with _colonus_, grazier with tiller: and in that passage the _colonus_ is apparently identical with the _dominus fundi_ just below. The _coloni_ of these passages can hardly be mere tenants, but on the other hand they are certainly not great landowners. They seem to be men farming their own land, but in a small way[743] of business. Whether there were many such people in Varro’s Italy, he does not tell us. Nor do we find any indication to shew whether they would normally take part in farm work with their own hands. When he deplores[744] the modern tendency to crowd into the city, where men use their hands for applauding shows, having abandoned the sickle and the plough, he is merely repeating the common lament of reformers. There is no sign of any hope of serious reaction against this tendency: the importation and cheap distribution of foreign corn is a degenerate and ruinous policy, but there it is. Varro admired the small holdings and peasant farmers of yore, but no man knew better that independent rustic citizens of that type had passed away from the chief arable districts of Italy never to return. That small undertakings were still carried on in the neighbourhood of Rome and other urban centres, is evident from the market-gardens of the Imperial age. A notable case[745] is that of the bee-farm of a single _iugerum_ worked at a good profit by two brothers about 30 miles north of Rome. Varro expressly notes that they were able to bide their time so as not to sell on a bad market. He had first-hand knowledge of these men, who had served under him in Spain. Clearly they were citizens. They can hardly have kept slaves. It seems to have been a very exceptional case, and to be cited as such: it is very different from that of the peasant farmer of early Rome, concerned first of all to grow food for himself and his family. Agriculture as treated by Varro is based on slave labour, and no small part of his work deals with the quarters, feeding, clothing, discipline, sanitation, and mating, of the slave staff. True to his legal bent, he is careful to safeguard the rights of the slaveowner by explaining[746] the formal details necessary to effect a valid purchase, with guarantee of bodily soundness, freedom from vice, and flawless title. Again, to keep slaves profitably it was urgently necessary to keep them constantly employed, so that the capital sunk in them should not lie idle and the hands lose the habit of industry. Therefore, while relying on local craftsmen for special skilled services occasionally needed, he insists that a number of rustic articles should be manufactured on the farm. ‘One ought not to buy anything that can be produced on the estate[747] and made up by the staff (_domesticis_ = _familia_), such as wicker work and things made of rough wood.’ Moreover, the organization of the staff in departments is an elaborate slave-hierarchy. Under the general direction of the _vilicus_, each separate function of tillage or grazing, or keeping and fattening fancy-stock has its proper foreman. Such posts carried little privileges, and were of course tenable during good behaviour. Some foremen would have several common hands under them: none would wish to be degraded back to the ranks. It seems that some wealthy men kept[748] birdcatchers huntsmen or fishermen of their own, but Varro, writing for the average landlord, seems to regard these as being properly free professionals. As for the common hands, the ‘labourers’ (_operarii_), on whose bone and sinew the whole economic structure rested, their condition was much the same as in Cato’s time, but apparently somewhat less wretched. Varro does not propose to sell off worn-out slaves; this let us credit to humaner feelings. He shews a marked regard for the health and comfort of slaves; this may be partly humanity, but that it is also due to an enlightened perception of the owner’s interest is certain. He does not provide for an _ergastulum_, though those horrible prisons were well known in his day. Why is this? Perhaps partly because slave-labour was no longer normally employed on estates in the extremely crude and brutal fashion that was customary in the second century BC. And partly perhaps owing to the great disturbances of land-tenure since the measures of the Gracchi and the confiscations of Sulla. The earlier _latifundia_ had been in their glory when the wealthy nobles sat securely in power, and this security was for the present at an end. But, if the slave _operarii_ were somewhat better treated, their actual field labour was probably no less hard. Many pieces of land could not be worked with the clumsy and superficial plough then in use. Either the slope of the ground forbade it, or a deeper turning of the soil was needed, as for growing[749] vines. This meant wholesale digging, and the slave was in effect a navvy without pay or respite. No wonder that _fossor_ became a proverbial term for mere animal strength and dull unadaptability. An interesting estimate of the capability of an average digger is quoted[750] from Saserna. One man can dig over 8 _iugera_ in 45 days. But 4 day’s work is enough for one _iugerum_ (about ⅝ of an acre). The 13 spare days allowed are set to the account[751] of sickness, bad weather, awkwardness, and slackness. Truly a liberal margin to allow for waste. It cannot have been easy to farm at a profit with slave-labour on such terms; for the slave’s necessary upkeep was, however meagre, a continual charge. And yet we do not find Varro suggesting that free wage-earning labour might in the long run prove more economical than slave-labour even for rough work. Nay more, he does not refer to the employment of contractors with their several gangs, each interested in getting his particular job done quickly and the price paid. He only refers to _mercennarii_ in general terms, as we saw above. Nor does he speak[752] of _politio_ as a special process, as Cato does. It may be that he did not think it worth while to enter into these topics. But it is more probable that the results of agrarian legislation and civil warfare in the revolutionary period had affected the problems of rustic labour. The attempt to revive by law the class of small cultivating owners had been a failure. Military service as a career had competed with rustic wage-earning. Men waiting to be hired as farm hands were probably scarce. Otherwise, how can we account for the great armies raised in those days? To refer once more to a point mentioned above, Varro does not suggest that the charge of an estate might with advantage be entrusted to a freeman as _vilicus_. That we can discover all the reasons for the preference of slaves as stewards is too much to hope for. That it seemed to be a guarantee of honesty and devotion to duty, the manager being wholly in his master’s power, is a fairly certain guess. And yet Varro like others saw the advisability of employing free labour for occasional work of importance. Perhaps the permanent nature of a steward’s responsibilities had something to do with the preference. It may well have been difficult to keep a hold on a free manager. In management of a slave staff no small tact and intelligence were needed as well as a thorough knowledge of farming. General experience needed to be supplemented by an intimate knowledge[753] of the conditions of the neighbourhood and the capacities of the particular estate. And a free citizen, whose abilities and energy might qualify him for management of a big landed estate, had endless opportunities of turning his qualities to his own profit elsewhere. Whether as individuals or in companies, enterprising Romans found lucrative openings in the farming of revenues, in state-contracts, in commerce, or in money-lending, both in Italy and in the Provinces. Such employments, compared with a possible estate-stewardship, would offer greater personal independence and a prospect of larger gains. And freemen of a baser and less effective type would have been worse than useless: certainly far inferior to well-chosen slaves. XXVI. CICERO. It is hardly possible to avoid devoting a special section to the evidence of =Cicero=, though it must consist mainly of noting a number of isolated references to particular points. With all his many country-houses, his interest in agriculture was slight. But his active part in public life of all kinds makes him a necessary witness in any inquiry into the facts and feelings of his time; though there are few witnesses whose evidence needs to be received with more caution, particularly in matters that offer opportunity for partisanship. For our present purpose this defect does not matter very much. It is chiefly as confirming the statements of others that his utterances will be cited. When we reflect that Cicero was himself a man of generous instincts, and that he was well read in the later Greek philosophies, we are tempted to expect from him a cosmopolitan attitude on all questions affecting individuals. He might well look at human rights from the point of view of common humanity, differentiated solely by personal virtues and vices and unaffected by the accident of freedom or servitude. But we do not find him doing this. He might, and did, feel attracted by the lofty nobility of the Stoic system; but he could not become a Stoic. No doubt that system could be more or less adapted to the conditions of Roman life: it was not necessary to make the Stoic principles ridiculous by carrying[754] priggishness to the verge of caricature. But the notion that no fundamental difference existed between races and classes, that for instance the Wise Man, human nature’s masterpiece, might be found among slaves, was more than Cicero or indeed any level-headed Roman could digest. The imperial pride of a great people, conscious of present predominance through past merit, could not sincerely accept such views. To a Roman the corollary of accepting them would be the endeavour (more or less successful) to act upon them. This he had no intention of doing, and a mere theoretical assent[755] to them as philosophical speculations was a detail of no serious importance. Taking this as a rough sketch of the position occupied by Romans of social and political standing, we must add to it something more to cover the case of Cicero. He was a ‘new man.’ He was not a great soldier. He was not a revolutionary demagogue. He was ambitious. In order to rise and take his place among the Roman nobles he had to fall in with the sentiments prevailing among them: the newly-risen man could not afford to leave the smallest doubt as to his devotion to the privileges of his race and class. Thus, if there was a man in Rome peculiarly tied to principles of human inequality, it was Cicero. Therefore we need not be surprised to find that this quick-witted and warm-hearted man looked upon those engaged in handwork with a genial contempt[756] sometimes touched with pity. To him, as to the society in which he moved, bodily labour seemed to deaden interest[757] in higher things, in fact to produce a moral and mental degradation. In the case of slaves, whose compulsory toil secured to their owners the wealth and leisure needed (and by some employed) for politics or self-cultivation, the sacrifice of one human being for the benefit of another was an appliance of civilization accepted and approved from time immemorial. But the position of the freeman working for wages, particularly of the man who lived by letting out his bodily strength[758] to an employer for money, was hardly less degrading in the eyes of Roman society, and therefore in those of Cicero. We have no description of the Roman mob by one of themselves. That the rough element[759] was considerable, and ready to bear a hand in political disorder, is certain. But they were what circumstances had made them, and it is probable that the riotous party gangs of Cicero’s time were not usually recruited among the best of the wage-earners. It is clear that many slaves took part in riots, and no doubt a number of freedmen also. In many rural districts disputes between neighbours easily developed into acts of force and the slaves of rival claimants did battle for their several owners. Moreover, slaves might belong, not to an individual, but to a company[760] exploiting some state concession of mineral or other rights. In such cases ‘regrettable incidents’ were always possible. And the wild herdsmen (_pastores_) roaming armed in the lonely hill-country were a ready-made soldiery ever inclined to brigandage or servile rebellions, a notorious danger. It was an age of violence in city and country. Rich politicians at last took to keeping private bands[761] of swordsmen (_gladiatores_). And it is to be borne in mind that, while a citizen might be unwilling to risk the life of a costly[762] slave, his own property, a slave would feel no economic restraint to deter him from killing his master’s citizen enemy. The employment of slaves in the affrays that took place in country districts over questions of disputed right is fully illustrated in the speeches[763] delivered in cases of private law. The fact was openly recognized in the legal remedies provided, for instance in the various _interdicta_ framed to facilitate the trial and settlement of disputes as to _possessio_. The forms contemplated the probability of slaves being engaged in assailing or defending possession on behalf of their masters, and the wording even varied according as the force in question had been used by men armed or unarmed. Counsel of course made much or little of the happenings in each case according to the interest of their clients. But that bloodshed occurred at times in these fights is certain. And there was no regular police force to keep order in remote corners of the land. When slaves were once armed and set to fight, they would soon get out of hand, and a slaveowner might easily lose valuable men. Nay more, an epidemic of local brigandage might result, particularly in a time of civil war and general unrest, and none could tell where the mischief would end. We can only form some slight notion of the effect of such conditions as these on the prospects of peaceful agriculture. The speech _pro Quinctio_ belongs to 81 BC, the _pro Tullio_ to 71, the _pro Caecina_ to 69. When we reflect that the slave rising under Spartacus lasted from 73 to 71, and swept over a large part of Italy, we may fairly conclude that this period was a bad one for farming. The most striking picture of the violence sometimes used in the disputes of rustic life meets us in the mutilated speech _pro Tullio_, of which enough remains to make clear all that concerns us. First, the form of action employed in the case was one of recent[764] origin, devised to check the outrages committed by bands of armed slaves, which had increased since the disturbances of the first civil war. The need for such a legal remedy must have been peculiarly obvious at the time of the trial, for the rising of Spartacus had only just been suppressed. Cicero refers to the notorious scandal of murders committed by these armed bands, a danger to individuals and even to the state, that had led to the creation of the new form of action at law. In stating the facts of the case, of course from his client’s point of view, he gives us details[765] which, true or not, were at least such as would not seem incredible to a Roman court. Tullius owned an estate in southern Italy. That his title to it was good is taken for granted. But in it was reckoned a certain parcel of land which had been in undisputed possession of his father. This strip, which was so situated as to form a convenient adjunct to a neighbouring estate, was the cause of trouble. The neighbouring estate had been bought by two partners, who had paid a fancy price for it. The bargain was a bad one, for the land proved to be derelict and the farmsteads all burnt down. One of the partners induced the other to buy him out. In stating the area of the property he included the border strip of land claimed by Tullius as his own. In the process of settlement of boundaries for the transfer to the new sole owner he would have included the disputed ground, but Tullius instructed[766] his attorney and his steward to prevent this: they evidently did so, and thus the ownership of the border strip was left to be determined by process of law. The sequel was characteristic of the times. The thwarted claimant armed a band of slaves and took possession[767] of the land by force, killing the slaves who were in occupation on behalf of Tullius, and committing other murders and acts of brigandage by the way. We need not follow the case into the law-court. What concerns us is the evidence of unfortunate land speculation, of land-grabbing, of boundary-disputes, and of the prompt use of violence to supersede or hamper the legal determination of rights. The colouring and exaggeration of counsel is to be allowed for; but we can hardly reject the main outlines of the picture of armed slave-bands and bloodshed as a rural phenomenon of the sorely tried South of Italy. The speech _pro Caecina_ shews us the same state of things existing in Etruria. The armed violence alleged in this case is milder in form: at least the one party fled, and nobody was killed. Proceedings were taken under a possessory interdict issued by a praetor, and Cicero’s artful pleading is largely occupied with discussion of the bearing and effect of the particular formula employed. Several interesting transactions[768] are referred to. A man invests his wife’s dowry in a farm, land being cheap, owing to bad times, probably the result of the Sullan civil war. Some time after, he bought some adjoining land for himself. After his death and that of his direct heir, the estate had to be liquidated for purpose of division among legatees. His widow, advised to buy in the parcel of land adjoining her own farm, employed as agent a man who had ingratiated himself with her. Under this commission the land was bought. Cicero declares that it was bought for the widow, who paid the price, took possession, let it to a tenant, and held it till her death. She left her second husband Caecina heir to nearly all her property, and it was between him and the agent Aebutius that troubles now arose. For Aebutius declared that the land had been bought by him for himself, and that the lady had only enjoyed the profits of it for life in usufruct under her first husband’s will. This was legally quite possible. At the same time he suggested that Caecina had lost the legal capacity of taking the succession at all. For Sulla had degraded the citizens belonging to Volaterrae, of whom Caecina was one. Cicero is more successful in dealing with this side-issue than in establishing his client’s claim to the land. The dispute arising out of that claim, the armed violence used by Aebutius to defeat Caecina’s attempt to assert possession, and the interdict granted to Caecina, were the stages by which the case came into court. Its merits are not certain. But the greedy characters on both sides, the trickery employed by one side or other (perhaps both), and the artful handling of the depositions of witnesses, may incline the reader to believe that the great orator had but a poor case. At all events farming in Etruria appears as bound up with slave labour and as liable to be disturbed by the violence of slaves in arms. In the above cases it suited Cicero’s purpose to lay stress on the perils that beset defenceless persons who were interested in farms in out-of-the-way[769] places. Yet the use of armed force was probably most habitual on the waste uplands, and his references to the lawless doings of the brigand slave-bands fully confirm the warnings of Varro. His tone varies according to the requirements of his client’s case, but he has to admit[770] that wayfarers were murdered and bloody affrays between rival bands ever liable to occur. He can on occasion[771] boldly charge a political opponent with deliberate reliance on such forces for revolutionary ends. Thus of C Antonius he asserts ‘he has sold all his live stock and as good as parted with his open pastures, but he is keeping his herdsmen; and he boasts that he can mobilize these and start a slave-rebellion whenever he chooses.’ There was no point in saying this if it had been absurdly incredible. Another glimpse of the utter lawlessness prevalent in the wilds appears in the story[772] of murders committed in Bruttium. Suspicion rested on the slaves employed by the company who were exploiting the pitch-works in the great forest of Sila under lease from the state. Even some of the free agents of the company were suspected. The case, which was dealt with by a special criminal tribunal, belongs to the year 138 BC, and attests the long standing of such disorders. And it is suggestive of guilty complicity on the part of the lessees that, though they eventually secured an acquittal, it was only after extraordinary exertions on the part of their counsel. Indeed these great gangs of slaves in the service of _publicani_ were in many parts of Italy and the Provinces a serious nuisance. Wherever the exploitation of state properties or the collection of dues was farmed out to contractors, a number of underlings would be needed. The lower grades were slaves: a few rose to higher posts as freedmen of the various companies. Now some of the enterprises, such as mines quarries woodlands and the collection of grazing dues on the public pastures, were generally in direct contact with rural life, and employed large staffs of slaves. The managers of a company were concerned to produce a high dividend for their shareholders: so long as this resulted from the labours of their men, it was a matter of indifference to them whether neighbouring farmers were robbed or otherwise annoyed. That we hear little or nothing of such annoyances is probably owing to the practice of locking up slave-labourers at night in an _ergastulum_, for fear of their running away, not to keep them from doing damage. Runaways do not appear singly as a rustic pest. But in bands there was no limit to the harm that _fugitivi_ might do; witness the horrors of the slave-wars. In short, wherever slaves were employed in large numbers, the possibility of violence was never remote. Their masters had always at hand a force of men, selected for bodily strength and hardened by labour, men with nothing but hopeless lives to lose, and nothing loth to exchange dreary toil for the dangers of a fight in which something to their advantage might turn up. No doubt the instances of slaves called to arms in rustic disputes were far more numerous than those referred to by Cicero: he only speaks of those with which he was at the moment concerned. Is it then true that in the revolutionary period farming depended on slave-labour while its security was ever menaced by dangers that arose directly out of the slave-system? I fear it is true, absurd though the situation may seem to us. Between the great crises of disturbance were spells of comparative quiet, in which men could and did farm profitably in the chief agricultural districts of Italy. But it must be remembered that many an estate changed hands in consequence of civil war, and that many new landlords profited economically by appropriating the capital sunk in farms by their predecessors. The case of Sextus Roscius of Ameria gives us some light on this point. The picture drawn[773] by Cicero of the large landed estate of the elder Roscius, of his wealth and interest in agriculture, of his jealous and malignant relatives, of the reasons why he kept his son Sextus tied to a rustic life, is undoubtedly full of colouring and subtle perversions of fact. Let it go for what it may be worth. The accused was acquitted of the crime laid to his charge (parricide), but there is no sign that he was ever able to recover the estate and the home from which his persecutors had driven him. They had shared the plunder with Chrysogonus the favoured freedman of Sulla, who himself bought the bulk of the property at a mere fraction of its market value, and it is practically certain that the rogues kept what they got. It was easy to make agriculture pay on such terms. But what of the former owners of such properties, on whose ruin the new men’s prosperity was built? Can we believe that genuine agricultural enterprise was encouraged by a state of things in which the fruits of long patience and skill were liable to sudden confiscation? In Cicero, as in other writers, we find evidence of a wage-earning class living by bodily labour alongside of the slave-population. But in passages where he speaks[774] of _mercennarii_ it is often uncertain whether freemen serving for hire, or slaves hired from another owner, are meant. In his language the associations[775] of the word are mean. It is true that you may buy for money not only the day’s-work (_operae_) of unskilled labourers but the skill (_artes_) of craftsmen. In the latter case even Roman self-complacency will admit a certain dignity; for men of a certain social status[776] such professions are all very well. But the mere ‘hand’ is the normal instance; and for the time of his employment he is not easily distinguished from a slave. Therefore Cicero approves[777] a Stoic precept, that justice bids you to treat slaves as you would hirelings—don’t stint their allowances (food etc), but get your day’s-work out of them. In passages[778] where the word _mercennarius_ is not used, but implied, there is the same tone of contempt, and it is not always clear whether the workers are free or slaves. In short the word is not as neutral as _operarius_, which connotes mere manual labour, whether the labourer be free or not, and is figuratively used[779] to connote a merely mechanical proficiency in any art. Our ‘journeyman’ is sometimes similarly used. There are other terms in connexion with land-management the use of which by Cicero is worth noting. Thus a landlord may have some order to give in reference to the cultivation of a farm. If he gives it to his _procurator_[780], it is as an instruction, a commission authorizing him to act; if to his _vilicus_, it is simply a command. For the former is a free attorney, able at need to represent his principal even in a court of law: the latter is a slave steward, the property of his master. The _procurator_ is hardly a ‘manager’: he seldom occurs in connexion with agriculture, and seems then to be only required when the principal is a very ‘big man,’ owning land on a large scale, and probably in scattered blocks. In such cases it would be convenient for (say) a senator to give a sort of ‘power of attorney’ to an agent and let him supervise the direction of a number of farms, each managed by a steward. I take this policy to be just that against which the writers on agriculture warn their readers. It sins against the golden rule, that nothing is a substitute for the Master’s eye. Whether the agent referred to in the speech _pro Tullio_, who as well as the steward received[781] written instructions from Tullius, was guilty of any neglect or blunder, we cannot tell. That any act done to a _procurator_ or by him was legally equivalent to the same done to or by his principal, is a point pressed in the _pro Caecina_, no doubt because it was safe ground and an excuse for not dwelling on weak points in a doubtful case. The _colonus_ as a tenant[782] farmer, whom we find mentioned in Varro but not in Cato, appears in Cicero. In the _pro Caecina_ we read[783] that the widow lady took possession of the farm and let it (_locavit_); also that the tenant was after her death still occupying the farm, and that a visit of Caecina, in which he audited the accounts of the tenant, is a proof that Caecina himself was now in possession. That is, by asserting control of the sitting tenant Caecina made the man his agent so far as to retain possession through the presence of his representative. If the facts were as Cicero states them, the contention would be legally sound. For, as he points out in another passage, any representative[784] will serve for these purposes of keeping or losing possession. If the interdict-formula only says ‘attorney’ (_procurator_), this does not mean that only an attorney in the technical sense, a plenipotentiary agent appointed by an absentee principal with full legal formalities, is contemplated. No, the brief formula covers agency of any kind: it will apply to your tenant your neighbour your client or your freedman, in short to any person acting on your behalf. In the great indictment of Verres[785] we find a good instance of tenancy in Sicily, where it seems to have been customary for large blocks of land to be held on lease from the state by tenants-in-chief (_aratores_) who sometimes sublet parcels to _coloni_. In this case the trouble arose out of the tithe to which the land was liable. Verres, in order to squeeze an iniquitous amount out of a certain farm, appointed a corrupt court charged to inquire whether the (arable) acreage had been correctly returned by the _colonus_. Of course they were instructed to find that the area had been fraudulently understated. But the person against whom judgment was to be given was not the _colonus_, but Xeno, who was not the owner of the farm. He pleaded that it belonged to his wife, who managed her own affairs; also that he had not been responsible for the cultivation (_non arasse_). Nevertheless he was not only compelled to pay a large sum of money to meet the unfair damages exacted, but subjected to further extortion under threat of corporal punishment. The returns on which the tithes were assessed would seem to have been required from the actual cultivators, and the lessees of the year’s tithe to have had a right of action against the owners or chief-tenants of the land, if the tenant farmer defaulted in any particular. So far we are able to gather that tenant farmers were no exception at this time, though perhaps not a numerous class; and that they were not persons of much social importance. That they were to a considerable extent dependent on their landlords is probable, though not actually attested by Cicero, for we have seen evidence of it in a passage of Caesar. Cicero’s reference[786] to the case of a lady who committed adultery with a _colonus_ is couched in such terms as to imply the man’s social inferiority. In another passage[787] we hear of a man in the Order of _equites equo publico_ being disgraced by a censor taking away his state-horse, and of his friends crying out in protest that he was _optimus colonus_, thrifty and unassuming. Here we have a person of higher social quality, no doubt: but I conceive _colonus_ to be used in the original sense of ‘cultivator.’ To say ‘he is a good farmer’ does not imply that he is a mere tenant, any more than it does in the notable passage of Cato. The _vilicus_ generally appears in Cicero as the slave steward familiar to us from other writers. In one place[788] he is contrasted with the _dispensator_, who seems to be a sort of slave clerk charged with registering stores and serving out rations clothing etc. As this functionary seldom meets us in the rustic system of the period, we may perhaps infer that only large estates, where the _vilicus_ had no time to spare from purely agricultural duties, required such extra service. In saying that he can read and write (_litteras scit_) Cicero may seem to imply that this is not to be expected from the _vilicus_: but the inference is not certain, for the agricultural writers require stewards to read at least. In another passage[789] we read that in choosing a slave for the post of steward the one thing to be kept in view is not technical skill but the moral qualities, honesty industry alertness. Here it is plain that the orator is warping the truth in order to suit his argument: Varro would never have disregarded technical skill. For Cicero’s point is that what the state needs most in its ‘stewards’ (that is, magistrates) is good moral qualities. On the same lines he had some 16 years before compared[790] Verres to a bad steward, who has ruined his master’s farm by dishonest and wasteful management, and is in a fair way to be severely punished for his offence. The tone of this passage is exactly that of old Cato, put in the rhetorical manner of an advocate. A few words must be said on the subject of manumission. In his defence of Rabirius, accused of high treason, Cicero launches[791] out into a burst of indignation at the attempted revival of an obsolete barbarous procedure designed for his client’s destruction. The cruel method of execution to which it points, long disused, is repugnant to Roman sentiment, utterly inconsistent with the rights of free humanity. Such a prospect[792] would be quite unendurable even to slaves, unless they had before them the hope of freedom. For, as he adds below, when we manumit a slave, he is at once freed thereby from fear of any such penalties as these. Taken by itself, this passage is better evidence of the liability of slaves to cruel punishment than of the frequent use of manumission. But we know from Cicero’s letters and from other sources that freedmen were numerous. And from a sentence[793] in one of the _Philippics_ we may gather that it was not unusual for masters to grant freedom to slaves after six years of honest and painstaking service. I suspect that this utterance, in the context in which it occurs, should not be taken too literally. That Romans of wealth and position liked to surround themselves with retainers, humble and loyal, bound to their patron by ties of gratitude and interest, is certain: and early manumissions were naturally promoted by this motive. But the most pleasing instances were of course those in which a community of pursuits developed a real sympathy, even affection between owner and owned, as in the case of Tiro, on whose manumission[794] Quintus Cicero wrote to congratulate his brother. In all these passages, however, there is one thing to be noted. They do not look to the conditions of rustic life; and, so far as the evidence of Cicero goes, they do not shake my conviction that manumission was a very rare event on country estates. A topic of special interest is the evidence of the existence of farmers who, whether employing slaves or not, worked on the land in person. What does Cicero say as to αὐτουργία, in his time? It has been pointed out above that, when it suits his present purpose, he not only enlarges on the homely virtues of country folk but refers to the old Roman tradition of farmer-citizens called from the plough to guide and save the state in hours of danger. He made full use of this topic in his defence of Sextus Roscius, and represented his client as a simple rustic, reeking of the farmyard,—how far truly, is doubtful. But he does not go so far as to depict him ploughing or digging or carting manure. It is reasonable to suppose that the slaves to whom he refers[795] did the rough farm-work under his orders. When he can make capital out of the wrongs of the humble labouring farmer, the orator does not shrink from doing so. One of the iniquities laid to the charge[796] of Verres is that he shifted the burden of taking legal proceedings from the lessees of the Sicilian tithes (_decumani_) to the tithe-liable lessees of the land (the _aratores_). Instead of the tithe-farmer having to prove that his demand was just, the land-farmer had to prove that it was unjust. Now this was too much even for those farming on a large scale: it meant in practice that they had to leave their farms and go off to make their appeals at Syracuse. But the hardship was far greater in the case of small farmers (probably sub-tenants), of whom he speaks thus: ‘And what of those whose means of tillage[797] consist of one yoke of oxen, who labour on their farms with their own hands—in the days before your governorship such men were a very numerous class in Sicily—when they have satisfied the demands of Apronius, what are they to do next? Are they to leave their tillages, leave their house and home, and come to Syracuse, in the hope of reasserting their rights at law against an Apronius[798] under the impartial government of a Verres?’ No doubt the most is made of these poor men and their wrongs. But we need not doubt that there were still some small working farmers in Sicily. In the half-century or so before the time of Verres we hear[799] of free Sicilians who were sorely disturbed by the great servile rebellions and even driven to make common cause with the insurgent slaves. Some such ‘small men’ were evidently still to be found wedged in among the big plantations. Another important passage occurs in the artful speech against the agrarian bill of Rullus. It refers to the _ager Campanus_, on the value of which as a public asset[800] Cicero insists. This exceptionally fertile district was, and had long been, let by the state to cultivating tenants, whose regularly-paid rents were one of the safest items in the Roman budget. These farms were no _latifundia_, but apparently of moderate size, such that thrifty farmers could make a good living in this favoured land. With the various political[801] changes, carrying with them disturbances of occupancy, caused by wars in the past, we are not here concerned. Cicero declares that one aim of the bill was the assignation of this district to new freeholders, which meant that the state treasury would lose a sure source of revenue. This, in the interest of the aristocratic party, he was opposing, and undoubtedly misrepresented facts whenever it suited his purpose. In matters of this kind, he says, the cry is often raised[802] that it is not right for lands to lie depopulated with no freemen left to till them. This no doubt refers to the Gracchan programme for revival of the peasant farmers. Cicero declares that such a cry is irrelevant to the present issue, for the effect of the bill will be to turn out the excellent sitting tenants[803] only to make room for new men, the dependants and tools of a political clique. The reason why, after the fall of Capua in the second Punic war, that city was deprived of all corporate existence, and yet the houses were left standing, was this: the menace of a disloyal Capua had to be removed, but a town-centre of some sort could not be dispensed with. For marketing, for storage[804] of produce, the farmers must have some place of common resort: and when weary with working on their farms they would find the town homesteads a welcome accommodation. Allowing for rhetorical colouring in the interests of his case, perhaps we may take it from Cicero that a fair number of practical working farmers were settled on the Campanian plain. His prediction[805] that, if this district were to be distributed in freehold allotments, it would presently pass into the hands of a few wealthy proprietors (as the Sullan allotments had been doing) suggests a certain degree of sincerity. But taken as a whole the utterances of Cicero are too general, and too obviously meant to serve a temporary purpose, to furnish trustworthy data for estimating the numerical strength and importance of the working farmers in the Italy of his day. XXVII. SALLUST AND OTHERS. In the writings of Cicero’s contemporaries other than Varro there is very little to be found bearing upon rustic life and labour as it went on in their time. Literature was occupied with other themes appropriate to the political conflicts or social scandals or philosophic questionings that chiefly interested various individuals and the circles in which they moved. The origins of civilization formed a fascinating problem for some, for instance the Epicurean =Lucretius=: but his theory of the development of agriculture deals with matters outside of our subject. The one helpful passage of =Caesar=[806] has been noticed already. So too has the contemptuous reference[807] of =Sallust= to agriculture as slaves’ work. This writer in a few places touches on points of interest. For instance, in speaking[808] of the various classes of men who were ripe for revolution, he says ‘moreover there were the able-bodied men who had been used to earn a hard living as hired labourers on farms; the attraction of private and public bounties had drawn them into Rome, where they found idle leisure preferable to thankless toil.’ Such statements, unsupported by statistics, must be received with caution, but this assertion is so far backed up by what we learn from other sources, that we can accept it as evidence. How many such rustic immigrants of this class there were at any given moment, is what we want to know, and do not. Again, in a passage[809] describing the popularity of Marius in 108 BC, he says ‘in short, the commons were fired with such enthusiasm that the handworkers and the rustics of all sorts, men whose means and credit consisted in the labour of their hands, struck work and attended Marius in crowds, putting his election before their own daily needs.’ In this there is perhaps some exaggeration, but the picture is probably true in the main. The _agrestes_ may include both small farmers and labourers. But they can hardly have come from great distances, and so were probably not very numerous. The description is as loose as passages of the kind were in ancient writers, and are still. The references to rustic slave-gangs, and Catiline’s refusal to arm them in support of his rising, have been cited above. We now pass into the period in which the last acts of the Roman Republican drama were played and the great senatorial aristocrats, in whose hands was a great share of the best lands in Italy, lost the power to exploit the subject world. Not only by official extortion in provincial governorships, but by money-lending at usurious interest[810] to client princes or provincial cities, these greedy nobles amassed great sums of money, some of which was employed in political corruption to secure control of government at home. Civil wars and proscriptions now thinned their ranks, and confiscations threw many estates into the market. The fall of Antony in 31 BC left Octavian master of the whole empire of Rome, an emperor ruling under republican disguises. Now it was naturally and properly his aim to neutralize the effects of past disorders and remove their causes. He looked back to the traditions of Roman growth and glory, and hoped by using the lessons thus learnt to revive Roman prosperity and find a sound basis for imperial strength. He worked on many lines: that which concerns us here is his policy towards rustic life and agriculture. As he persuaded and pressed the rich to be less selfish[811] and more public-spirited, to spend less on ostentation and the adornment of their mansions and parks, and to contribute liberally to works of public magnificence or utility, a duty now long neglected; even so he strove to rebuild Italian farming, to make it what it had been of yore, the seed-bed of simple civic and military virtues. But ancient civilization, in the course of its development in the Roman empire, had now gone too far for any ruler, however well-meaning and powerful, to turn the tide. Socially it was too concentrated and urban, economically too individualistic and too dependent on the manipulation of masses of capital. In many directions the policy of the judicious emperor was marvellously successful: but he did not succeed in reviving agriculture on the old traditional footing as a nursery of peasant farmers. He sought to bring back a traditional golden age, and court-poets were willing to assert[812] that the golden age had indeed returned. This was not true. The ever-repeated praises of country life are unreal. Even when sincere, they are the voice of town-bred men, weary of the fuss and follies of urban life, to which nevertheless they would presently come back refreshed but bored[813] with their rural holiday. That the science and art of agriculture were being improved, is true; hence the treatise of Varro, written in his old age. But technical improvements could not set the small farmers as a class on their legs again. The small man’s vantage lay (and still lies) in minute care and labour freely bestowed, without stopping to inquire whether the percentage of profit is or is not an adequate return for his toil. Moreover, technical improvements often require the command of considerable capital. The big man can sink capital and await a return on the investment: but this return must be at a minimum rate or he will feel that it does not ‘pay.’ For in his calculations he cannot help comparing the returns[814] on different kinds of investments. Under such conditions it is no wonder that we find _latifundia_ still existing under the early Empire in districts suited for the plantation system. No doubt much of the large landholding was the outcome of social ambitions. Men who had taken advantage of civil war and its sequels to sink money in land took their profit either in a good percentage on plantations, or in the enhanced importance gained by owning fine country places, or in both ways. A new class was coming to the front under the imperial régime and among them were wealthy freedmen. These had not yet reached the predominant influence and colossal wealth that marked their successors of the next generation. But they had begun to appear[815] in the last age of the Republic, and were now a force by no means to be ignored. Such landowners were not likely to favour the revival of peasant farmers, unless the presence of the latter could be utilized in the interest of the big estates. There were two ways in which this result could be attained. A small freeholder might, from the small size of his farm, have some spare time, and be willing to turn it to account by working elsewhere for wages. Such a man would be a labourer of the very best kind, but he could not be relied upon to be disengaged at a particular moment; for, if not busy just then on his own farm, some other employer might have secured his services. A small tenant farmer, to whom part of a great estate was let, would be governed by any conditions agreed upon between him and his landlord. That these conditions might include a liability to a certain amount of actual service at certain seasons on his landlord’s estate, is obvious. That the _coloni_ of later times were normally in this position, is well known. That this system, under which a tenant retaining personal freedom was practically (and at length legally) bound to the soil, suddenly arose and became effective, is most improbable. Whether we can detect any signs of its gradual introduction will appear as our inquiry proceeds. We have already noted the few references to tenant _coloni_ under the Republic. It is enough to remark here that, whatever degree of improvement in agriculture may have taken place owing to the reestablishment of peace and order, it could hardly have been brought about without employing the best labour to be had. If therefore we find reason to believe that the supply of skilled free labour for special agricultural work was gradually found by giving a new turn to the tenancy-system, we may hazard a guess that the first tentative steps in this direction belong to the quiet developments of the Augustan peace. ROME—THE EMPIRE XXVIII. AGRICULTURE AND AGRICULTURAL LABOUR UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. That the position of the working farmer in the fourth and fifth centuries AD was very different from what it had been in the early days of the Roman Republic, is hardly open to question. That in the last two centuries of the Republic his position had been gravely altered for the worse in a large (and that in general the best) part of Italy, is not less certain. This period, from 241 to 31 BC, had seen the subjection to Rome of the Mediterranean countries, and the Italian peninsula was an imperial land. It was inevitable that from a dominion so vast and various there should be some sort of reaction on its mistress, and reaction there had been, mostly for evil, on the victorious Roman state. The political social and moral effects of this reaction do not concern us here save only in so far as the economic situation was affected thereby. For instance, the plunder of the Provinces by bad governors and the extortions practised by subordinate officials, the greed of financiers and their agents, were the chief sources of the immense sums of money that poured into Italy. The corruption promoted by all this ill-gotten wealth expressed itself in many forms; but in no way was it more effective than in degradation of agriculture. It was not merely that it forwarded the movement towards great aggregations of _latifundia_. It supplied the means of controlling politics by bribery and violence and rendering nugatory all endeavours to reform the land-system and give legislative remedies a fair trial. The events of the revolutionary period left nearly all the land of Italy in private ownership, most of it in the hands of large owners. The Sullan and Triumviral confiscations and assignations were social calamities and economic failures. Of their paralysing effect on agriculture we can only form a general notion, but it is clear that no revival of a free farming peasantry took place. Changes there had been in agriculture, due to influences from abroad. Farming on a large scale and organization of slave labour had given it an industrial turn. The crude and brutal form in which this at first appeared had probably been somewhat modified by experience. The great plantations clumsily adapted from Punic models were not easily made to pay. More variety in crops became the fashion, and the specializing of labour more necessary. In this we may surely trace Greek and Greco-oriental influences, and the advance in this respect is reflected in the more scientific precepts of Varro as compared with those of Cato. But, so long as the industrial aim, the raising of large crops for the urban market, prevailed, this change could not tend to revive the farming peasantry, whose aim was primarily an independent subsistence, and who lacked the capital needed for agricultural enterprise on industrial lines. Meanwhile there was the large-scale slavery system firmly established, and nothing less than shrinkage of the supply of slaves was likely to shake it. But the course of Roman conquest and formation of Provinces had brought Italy into contact with countries in which agriculture and its relation to governments stood on a very different footing from that traditional in Roman Italy. The independent peasant farmer living by his own labour on his own land, a double character of citizen and soldier, untroubled by official interference, was a type not present to the eyes of Romans as they looked abroad. Tribal ownership, still common in the West, had been outgrown in Italy. The Carthaginian system, from which much had been learnt, was an exploitation-system, as industrial as a government of merchant princes could make it. In Sicily it met a Hellenistic system set up by the rulers of Syracuse, and the two seem to have blended or at least to have had common characteristics. The normal feature was the payment of a tithe of produce (δεκάτη) to the State. For the State claimed the property of the land, and reserved to itself a regular 10% in acknowledgement thereof. This royal title had passed to Rome, and Rome accordingly levied her normal _decumae_, exemption from which was a special favour granted to a few communities. Now the principle that the ultimate ownership of land is vested in the King[816] was well known in the East, and is to be traced in several of the monarchies founded by the Successors of Alexander. In the Seleucid and Attalid kingdoms there have been found indications of it, though the privileges of cities and temples checked its general application. But in Egypt it existed in full vigour, and had done so from time immemorial. It was in fact the most essential expression of oriental ideas of sovranty. Combined with it was the reservation of certain areas as peculiarly ‘royal lands’ the cultivators of which were ‘royal farmers,’ βασιλικοὶ γεωργοί, standing in a direct relation to the King and controlled by his administrative officials. The interest of the sovran was to extract a regular revenue from the crown-lands: hence it was the aim of government to secure the residence of its farmers and the continuous cultivation of the soil. The object was attained by minute regulations applied to a submissive people of small needs. It is evident that agriculture under conditions such as these was based on ideas fundamentally different from those prevalent in Italy. There private ownership was the rule, and by the end of the Republic it was so more than ever. The _latifundia_ had grown by transfers of property[817] in land, whether the holdings so absorbed were original small freeholds or allotments of state land granted under agrarian laws. Present estates, whether large or small, were normally held under a full proprietary title; and the large ones at least were valued as an asset of social and political importance rather than as a source of economic profit. The owner could do what he would with his own, and in Italy[818] there was no tax-burden on his land. We may ask how it came about that the Italian and Provincial systems stood thus side by side, neither assimilating the other. The answer is that the contrast suited the interests of the moneyed classes who controlled the government of Rome. To exploit the regal conditions taken over by the Republic abroad was for them a direct road to riches, and the gratification of their ambitions was achieved by the free employment of their riches at home. The common herd of poor citizens, pauperized in Rome or scattered in country towns and hamlets, had no effective means of influencing policy, even if they understood what was going on and had (which they had not) an alternative policy of their own. So the Empire took over from the Republic a system existing for the benefit of hostile aristocrats and capitalists, with whom it was not practicable to dispense and whom it was not easy to control. We cannot suppose that the classes concerned with agriculture had any suspicion how far-reaching were the changes destined to come about under the new government. They could not look centuries ahead. For the present, the ruler spared no pains to dissemble his autocratic power and pose as a preserver and restorer of the Past. Caution and a judicious patronage inspired literature to praise the government and to observe a discreet silence on unwelcome topics. The attitude of Augustus towards agriculture will be discussed below. Here it is only necessary to remark that the first aim of his policy in this as in other departments was to set the machine working with the least possible appearance of change. As the republican magistracies were left standing, and gradually failed through the incompetence of senatorial guidance, so no crude agrarian schemes were allowed to upset existing conditions, and development was left to follow the lines of changing economic and political needs. It is well to take a few important matters and see very briefly how imperial policy set going tendencies that were in course of time to affect profoundly the position of agriculture. In the first place it was clear that no stable reconstruction was possible without a large and steady income. To this end a great reform of the old methods of revenue-collection was necessary. The wasteful system of tax-farmers practically unchecked in their exactions was exchanged for collection by officials of the state or of municipalities. In the case of land-revenue this change was especially momentous, for in no department had the abuses and extortions of _publicani_ been more oppressive. And it was in the Emperor’s Provinces that this reform was first achieved. Agriculture was by far the most widespread occupation of the subject peoples; and the true imperial interest was, not to squeeze the most possible out of them at a given moment, but to promote their continuous wellbeing as producers of a moderate but sure revenue. That this wise policy was deliberately followed is indicated by the separate[819] treatment of Egypt. Augustus did not present his new acquisition to the Roman state. He stepped into the position of the late Ptolemies, and was king there without the name. As he found the cash of Ptolemaic treasure a means of paying off debts and avoiding initial bankruptcy, so by keeping up the existing financial system he enjoyed year by year a large income entirely at his own disposal, and avoided the risk of disturbing institutions to which the native farmers had been used from time immemorial. The possession of this vast private revenue undoubtedly had much to do with the successful career of Augustus in establishing the empire. So long as the empire was secure from invasion, and the collection of taxes on a fair and economical plan afforded sufficient and regular returns, general prosperity prevailed over a larger area than ever before. The boon of peace was to the subject peoples a compensation for the loss of an independence the advantages of which were uncertain and in most cases probably forgotten. If the benumbing of national feelings was in itself not a good thing, the central government was able to pay its way, and emperors could at need appear as a sort of benign providence, by grants of money or temporary remissions of taxation in relief of extraordinary calamities. And yet, as we can now see in retrospect, the establishment of the new monarchy had set in motion tendencies that were destined to upset the social and economic structure and eventually to give it a more Oriental character. Italy long remained a favoured metropolitan land. But the great landowning nobles no longer ruled it and the Provinces also. No dissembling could conceal the truth that their political importance was gone. It may be[820] that some of the great landlords gave more attention to their estates as economic units. It is much more certain that large-scale landholding abroad[821] was more attractive than that in Italy. It was not a new thing, and under the republican government great provincial Roman landlords had enjoyed a sort of local autocratic position, assured by their influence in Rome. But an emperor’s point of view was very different from that of the old republican Senate. He could not allow the formation of local principalities in the form of great estates under no effective control. These landlords had been bitter opponents of Julius Caesar: Augustus had been driven to make away with some of them: the uneasiness of his successors at length found full vent in the action of Nero, who put to death six great landlords in Africa, and confiscated their estates. Half Africa, the Province specially affected, thus passed into the category of Imperial Domains, under the control of a departmental bureau, and later times added more and more to these _praedia Caesaris_ in many parts of the empire. The convenient simplicity of having great areas of productive land administered by imperial agents more or less controlled by the officials of a central department, into which the yearly dues were regularly paid, cannot have escaped the notice of emperors. But the advantages of such a system had been a part of their actual experience[822] from the first in the case of Egypt. Egypt too was the special home of finance based on a system of regulated agriculture and hereditary continuity of occupation. In particular, the interest of the government in the maintenance and extension of cultivation was expressed in minute rules for land-tenure and dues payable, and the care taken to keep the class of ‘royal farmers’ in a prosperous condition. Thus there was recognized a sort of community of interest between peasant and king. That middlemen should not oppress the former or defraud the latter was a common concern of both. Now in the Roman empire we note the growth of a system resembling this in its chief features. We find the tillage of imperial domains[823] carried on by small farmers holding parcels of land, generally as sub-tenants of tenants-in-chief holding direct from the emperor. These small farmers were evidently workers, whether they to some extent used slave-labour or not. Imperial policy favoured these men as steady producers turning the land to good account, and thus adding to the resources of the empire without being (like great landlords) a possible source of danger. Hence great care was taken to protect the _coloni Caesaris_ from oppression by middlemen: and, so long as head-tenants and official agents did not corruptly combine to wrong the farmers, the protection seems to have been effective. Moreover, the advantage of retaining the same tenants on the land whose conditions they understood by experience, and of inducing them to reclaim and improve further portions of the waste, was kept clearly in view. A policy of official encouragement in these directions was in full swing in the second century AD and may perhaps have been initiated by Vespasian. It is not necessary to assume that these arrangements were directly copied from Oriental, particularly Egyptian, conditions. The convenience of permanent tenants and the ever-pressing need of food-supply are enough to account for the general aim, and experience of the East would naturally help to mature the policy. The establishment of the Empire made it possible. But we must plainly note the significance of new ideas in respect of residence and cultivation. In the Roman land-system of Italy private ownership was the rule, and the general assumption that the owner cultivated on his own account: stewards and slave-gangs were common but not essential phenomena. It is true that the practice of letting farms to cultivating tenants existed, and that in the first two centuries of the Empire it was on the increase, probably promoted by the comparative scarcity of slaves in times of peace. But tenancy was a contract-relation, and the law, while protecting the tenant, gave to the landlord ample means of enforcing regular and thorough cultivation. And this automatically ensured the tenant’s residence in any conditions short of final despair. We shall see that as agriculture declined in Italy it became more and more difficult to find and keep satisfactory tenants: but the tenant was in the last resort free to go, and the man who had to be compelled to cultivate properly was just the man on whom the use of legal remedies was least likely to produce the desired practical effect. Now on the imperial domains abroad we find a growing tendency to insist on residence, as a rule imposed from above. The emperor could not leave his _coloni_ simply at the mercy of his head-tenants. He was very ready to protect them, but to have them flitting at will was another matter. And this tendency surely points to Egyptian analogies; naturally too, as the Empire was becoming more definitely a Monarchy. We shall also find reason to think that both in Italy and in the Provinces there was a tendency to reduce farm-tenants to a considerable degree of _de facto_ dependence by manipulation of economic relations. A landlord could let a farm on terms apparently favourable but so arranged that it was easy for the tenant to fall into arrears and become his debtor. The exploitation of debtors’ necessities[824] was a practice traditionally Roman from very early times. True, it was seldom politic to sell up a defaulting tenant in the declining state of Italian agriculture. But the gradual acceptance of a liability to small burdens in lieu of cash payment might rob him of his effective independence before he was well aware of the change in his position. On a great provincial domain, the emperor being far away, a head-tenant could deal with the sub-tenants on much the same lines. A trifling requirement, just exceeding what was actually due, would be submitted to as not worth the trouble and risk of setting the appeal-machinery in motion. Further encroachments, infinitesimal but cumulative, might reduce the _colonus_ to a semi-servile condition: and, the poorer he became, the less his prospect of protection from the emperor’s local agents, too often men of itching palms. Still the _coloni_ were freemen, and we have evidence that they sometimes appealed to their imperial lord, and with success. It seems that in some respects _coloni Caesaris_ were at an advantage as compared with _coloni_ of private landlords, at least in the means of protection. Roman law was very chary of interference with matters of private contract, and the principles guiding the courts were well known. An astute landlord could see to it that his encroachments on a tenant’s freedom did not entitle the man to a legal remedy. But the imperial domains abroad were often, if not always, governed by administrative procedure under the emperor’s own agents; and these gentry could quickly be brought to order, and compelled to redress grievances, by a single word from headquarters. That the word was forthcoming on occasion is not wonderful. The policy of an emperor was to cherish and encourage the patient farmers whose economic value was a sound imperial asset, while the head-tenant was only a convenient middleman. But the private landowner had no imperial interest to guide him, and looked only to his own immediate profit. In tracing the influences that changed the condition of the working farmer we must not forget the establishment of a new military system. The standing army created by Augustus was an absolute necessity for imperial defence. At the same time it was a recognition of the fact that the old system of temporary levies, long proved inadequate, must henceforth be abandoned. Frontier armies could not be formed by simply mobilizing free peasants for a campaign. The strength of the armies lay in military skill, not in numbers. Long service and special training made them uniformly professional, and provision was duly made for regular conditions of retirement. The Italian peasant-farmers, much fewer than of yore, and no longer all potential soldiers, were left to become simply professional farmers. That agriculture nevertheless did not really prosper was due to causes beyond their control; but that they, both tenant _coloni_ and any remaining small owners, should tend to become a purely peasant class was inevitable. Augustus may have wished to rebuild Italian agriculture on a sound foundation of the peasant-elements, but circumstances were too contrary for the successful prosecution of any such design. Meanwhile the marked differentiation[825] of soldier and farmer, and the settlement of veterans on allotments of land, mainly in frontier Provinces, was proceeding. Analogies from the East, particularly from Egypt, where such arrangements[826] were traditional, can hardly have been ignored. In ancient Egypt the division of military and farming classes had been so marked as to present the appearance of a caste-system. But this was not peculiar to Egypt. It was in full vigour in ancient India, where it impressed[827] Greek observers, to whom the general absence of slaves, there as in Egypt, seemed one of its notable phenomena. I do not venture to suggest that Roman emperors set themselves deliberately to substitute a fixed attachment of working farmers to the soil for a failing system of rustic slave-labour. But it is not likely that, as labour-problems from time to time arose, the well-known Oriental solutions were without some influence on their policy. We must not forget that Greek thinkers had long ago approved the plan of strict differentiation of functions in ideal states, and that such notions, popularized in Latin, were common property in educated circles. Tradition[828] even pointed to the existence of some such differentiation in primitive Rome. Therefore, when we find under the later Empire a rigid system of castes and gilds, and the _coloni_ attached to the soil with stern penalties to hinder movement, we must not view the situation with modern eyes. The restraint, that to us seems a cruel numbing of forces vital to human progress, would come as no great shock to the world of the fourth century, long prepared for the step by experience not encountered by theory. To us it is a painful revolution that, instead of the land belonging to the cultivator, the cultivator had become an appendage of the land. But it was the outcome of a long process: as for progress in any good sense, it had ceased. Government had become a series of vain expedients to arrest decay. And the rule of fixed _origo_, a man’s officially fixed domicile, was nothing more than the doctrine of the ἰδία long prevalent in the East. The true significance of the change binding the tiller to the soil he tilled is to be found in the fact that it was a desperate effort to solve a labour-question. To secure a sufficient supply of food had been a cause of anxiety to the imperial government from the first. The encouragement of increased production had become an important part of imperial policy in the second century. It looked to the small working farmers as the chief producing agency, men who provided all or most of the labour on their farms, and in at least some cases a certain amount of task-work[829] on the larger farms of the head-tenants. But in the wars and utter confusion of the third century the strain on the system was too great. The peaceful and prosperous parts of the empire suffered from increased demands on their resources to make good the deficiencies of the Provinces troubled with invasions or rebellions. And there can be no doubt that the working of governmental departments was interrupted and impeded by the general disorder. In such times as those of Gallienus and the so-called Thirty Tyrants the protection of the small farmers by intervention of the central authority must have been pitifully ineffective. Naturally enough, we do not get direct record of this failure, but the change of conditions that followed on the restoration of order by Diocletian shews what had been happening. The increase of taxation, rendered necessary by the costly machinery of the new government, led to increased pressure on the farmers, and evasions had to be checked by increased restraints. In a few years the facts were recognized and stereotyped by the law of Constantine, and the _coloni_ were henceforth bound down to the soil by an act of state. Another notable change[830] was introduced by requiring payment of dues to be made in kind. The motive of this was to provide a certain means of supporting the armies and the elaborate civil service; for the currency, miserably debased in the course of the third century, was a quite unsuitable medium for the purpose. That Diocletian, in these institutions of a new model, was not consciously applying oriental usage to the empire generally, is hardly credible. It only remained to reduce Italy to the common level by subjecting Italian land to taxation. This he did, and the new Oriental Monarchy was complete. That a labour-question underlay the policy of attaching the _coloni_ to the land, is to be gathered from the following considerations. The development of the plan of promoting small tenancies, particularly on the imperial domains, was undoubtedly calculated to take the place of large-scale cultivation by slave labour. It was a move in the direction of more intensive tillage, and economically sound. So long as a firm hand was kept on large head-tenants and imperial officials, the plan seems to have been on the whole a success. But all depended on the protection of the small working farmers, and of course on the moderation of government demands. The disorders of the third century tended to paralyse the protection while they increased demands. Therefore the head-tenants, aided by the slackness or collusion of officials, gained a predominant power, which imperial policy had been concerned to prevent. By the time of Diocletian their position was far stronger than it had been under Hadrian. To restore the former relations by governmental action would be certainly difficult, perhaps impossible. As middlemen, through whose agency the collection of dues in non-municipal areas could be effected, they were useful. It was a saving of trouble to deal with a comparatively small number of persons, and those men of substance. The remodelling of the disordered Empire was no doubt a complicated and laborious business, and anything that promised to save trouble would be welcomed. So the government accepted[831] the changed position as accomplished fact, and left the _coloni_, its former clients, to the mercies of the men of capital. But the big men, controlling ever more lands, whether as possessors or as imperial head-tenants or as ‘patrons’ of helpless villagers, could not meet their obligations to the government without having the disposal of a sufficient and regular supply of labour. And to the authorities of the later Empire, deeply committed to a rigid system of castes and gilds, no way of meeting the difficulty seemed open but to extend the system of fixity to the class of toilers on the land. The motive was a financial one, naturally. Non-industrial, and so unable to pay for imports by export of its own manufactures, the civilization of the empire was financially based upon agriculture. Looking back on the past, we can see that the deadening of hope and enterprise in the farming population was a ruinous thing. But the empire drifted into it as the result of circumstances and influences long operative and eventually irresistible. To displace the free peasant by the slave, then the slave by the small tenant, only to end by converting the small tenant into a serf, was a part of the Roman fate. ROME—AUGUSTUS TO NERO XXIX. HORACE AND VERGIL. For literary evidence bearing on agriculture in the time of Augustus we naturally look to Vergil and Horace. Now these two witnesses, taken separately and construed literally, might convey very different, even inconsistent, impressions of farm life and labour in the world around them. And Vergil is the central figure of Roman literature, the poet who absorbed the products of the past and dominated those of many generations to come. His quality as a witness to the present is what concerns us here. I have tried to discuss this problem thoroughly and fairly in a special section. In order to do this, it has been necessary to deal _pari passu_ with most of the evidence of Horace, the rest of which can be treated first by itself. =Horace=, the freedman’s son, himself an illustration of the way in which the ranks of Roman citizenship were being recruited from foreign sources, yields to none in his admiration of the rustic Romans of old[832] and the manly virtues of the genuine stock. In the dialogue between himself and his slave Davus the latter is made to twit him with his praises of the simple life and manners of the commons of yore, though he would never be content to live as they did. A palpable hit, as Horace knew: but he did not change his tone. With due respect he speaks of the farmers of olden time, men of sturdy mould and few wants. It was as poor men on small hereditary farms[833] that M’ Curius and Camillus grew to be champions of Rome. In those far-off days the citizen might have little of his own, but the public treasury[834] was full; a sharp contrast to present selfishness and greedy land-grabbing. Those old farmer folk put their own hand to the work. Their sons were brought up to a daily round of heavy tasks, and the mother of such families[835] was a strict ruler and an active housewife. For the scale of all their operations was small, and personal labour their chief means of attaining limited ends. They are not represented as using slave labour, nor is the omission strange. For the military needs of the great world-empire were never far from the minds of the Augustan writers, conscious as they were of their master’s anxieties on this score. Now the typical peasant of old time was farmer and soldier too, and it is of the _rusticorum mascula militum proles_ that Horace is thinking. There was no need to refer to farm-slaves even in the case of Regulus[836], whom tradition evidently assumed to have been a slaveowner. But, when he refers to circumstances of his own day, the slave meets us everywhere; not only in urban life and the domestic circle, but on the farm and in the contractor’s[837] labour-gang. We then hear of great estates, of great blocks of land mostly forest (_saltus_)[838] bought up by the rich, of the sumptuous _villae_ of the new style, all implying masses of slave labour: also of the great estates outside[839] Italy, from which speculators were already drawing incomes. Side by side with these scenes of aggressive opulence, we find occasional mention of a poorer class, farming small holdings, who are sometimes represented[840] as cultivators of land inherited from their forefathers. How far we are to take these references literally, that is as evidence that such persons were ordinary figures in the rustic life of Italy, may be doubted. The poet in need of material for contrasts, which are inevitably part of his stock-in-trade, has little in common with the statistician or even the stolid reporter. Nor can we be sure that the man who ‘works his paternal farm with oxen of his own’ or ‘delights to cleave his ancestral fields with the mattock,’ are workers doing the bodily labour in person. Even Horace, inclined though he is to realism, cannot be trusted so far: such words[841] as _arat_ and _aedificat_ for instance do not necessarily mean that the man guides the plough or is his own mason or carpenter. When he speaks of ‘all that the tireless Apulian[842] ploughs’—that is, the harvests he raises by ploughing—he does not seem to have in mind the small farmer. For the context clearly suggests corn raised on a large scale. And yet elsewhere[843] he gives us a picture of an Apulian peasant whose hard toil is cheered and eased by the work and attentions of his sunburnt wife, a little ideal scene of rural bliss. Apulia is a large district, and not uniform[844] in character, so we need not assume that either of these passages misrepresents fact. And there is a noticeable difference between the style of the Satires and Epistles on the one hand and that of the Odes on the other. In vocabulary, as in metre and rhythm, the former enjoy an easy license denied to the severer lyric poems on which he stakes his strictly poetic reputation. In the Odes[845] for instance _colonus_ bears the old general sense ‘tiller of the soil’: in the Satires we find it in the legal sense of ‘tenant-farmer’ as opposed to ‘owner,’ _dominus_. He refers in both groups of poems to the military colonists[846] pensioned by Augustus with grants of land. In neither place is the word _coloni_ used; this is natural enough. We need only note the care with which the court-poet refers to the matter. His master doubtless had many an anxious hour over that settlement: the poet refers to the granting of lands, and does not touch on the disturbance caused thereby. Nor is Horace peculiar in this respect. The caution that marks the utterances of all the Augustan writers is very apt to mislead us when we try to form a notion of the actual situation. The general truth seems to be that the beginning of the Empire was a time of unrest tempered by exhaustion, and that things only calmed down gradually as the sufferers of the elder generation died out. Wealth was now the one aim of most ambitions, and the race to escape poverty was extreme. The merchant[847] in Horace is a typical figure. For a while he may have had enough of seafaring perils and turn with joy to the rural quiet of his country town: but to vegetate on narrow means is more than he can stand, and he is off to the seas again. He is contrasted with the farmer content to till his ancestral fields, whom no prospect of gain would tempt to face the dangers of the deep: and he is I believe a much more average representative of the age than the acquiescent farmer. One passage in the works of Horace calls for special discussion by itself, for the value of its evidence depends on the interpretation accepted, and opinions have differed. In the fourteenth epistle of the first book the poet expresses his preference for country life in the form of an address to the steward of his Sabine estate, beginning with these lines _Vilice silvarum et mihi me reddentis agelli,_ _quem tu fastidis habitatum quinque focis et_ _quinque bonos solitum Variam dimittere patres,_ thus rendered by Howes Dear Bailiff of the woody wild domain Whose peace restores me to myself again,— (A sprightlier scene, it seems, thy taste requires, To Varia though it send five sturdy sires The lords of five good households)— and the question at once arises, what sort of persons are meant by these ‘five good fathers.’ In agreement with the excellent note of Wilkins I hold that they are free heads of households, and that they are persons existing in the then present time, not imagined figures of a former age. It seems also clear that they were living on the modest estate (_agellus_) of Horace. If so, then they can hardly be other than tenants of farms included therein. Therefore it has naturally been inferred that the estate consisted of a _villa_ with a home-farm managed by a steward controlling the staff of eight slaves of whom we hear elsewhere: and that the outlying portions were let to free farmers[848] on terms of money rent or shares of produce. Horace would thus be the landlord of five _coloni_, and his relations with them would normally be kept up through the agency of the resident slave-steward of the home-farm. All this agrees perfectly with other evidence as to the customary arrangements followed on rural estates; and I accept it as a valuable illustration of a system not new but tending to become more and more prevalent as time went on. But it is well to note that the case is one from a hill district, and that we must not from it draw any inference as to how things were moving on the great lowland estates, the chief latifundial farm-areas of Italy. The _patres_ referred to are virtually _patres familias_[849], free responsible persons, probably Roman citizens, but tenants, not landowning yeomen of the ancient type. Whether their visits to Varia (Vicovaro) were to bear their part in the local affairs of their market-town, or to buy and sell, or for both purposes, is not quite clear; nor does it here concern us. But we should much like to know whether these five farmers, or some of them, employed[850] any slaves. I do not see how this curiosity is to be gratified. Perhaps we may argue that their assumed liberty to come and go points to the employment of some labour other than their own: but would this labour be slave or free? If we assume (as I think we fairly may) that the labour needed would be mainly regular routine-work and not occasional help, this points rather to slave-labour. Nor is there any general reason for distrusting that conclusion; only it would probably mean slave-labour on a small scale. There is moreover no reason to think that free wage-labourers for regular routine work were plentiful in the Sabine hills. And these small farmers were not likely to be creditors, served by debtors (_obaerati_) working off arrears of debt, a class of labour which according to Varro seems to have been no longer available in Italy. There I must leave this question, for I can add no more. It remains to ask whether the identification of _patres_ with _patres familias_ exhausts the full meaning of the word. In the _Aeneid_ (XII 520) a combatant slain is described as by craft a poor fisherman of Lerna, no dependant of the wealthy, and then follow the words _conductaque pater tellure serebat_. Now most commentators and translators seem determined to find in this a reference to the man’s father, which is surely flat and superfluous. The stress is not on _pater_ but on _conducta_. Is not _pater_ an honourable quality-term, referring to the man[851] himself? He would not be always fishing in the lake. He had a dwelling of some sort, most probably a patch of land, to grow his vegetables. The point is that even this was not his own, but hired from some landowner. I would render ‘and the land where the honest man used to grow a crop from seed was rented from another.’ That _pater_ (Aeneas etc) is often used as a complimentary prefix, is well known, and I think it delicately expresses the poet’s kindly appreciation of the poor but honest and independent rustic. In the passage of Horace I am inclined to detect something of the same flavour. Some have supposed that the five ‘fathers’ were decurions of the local township of Varia, who went thither to meetings of the local senate. I shrink from reading this into the words of Horace, all the more as Nissen[852] has shewn good reason for doubting whether Varia was anything more than a subordinate hamlet (_vicus_) of Tibur. The general effect of the words, taken in context with the rest of the epistle, is this: the _vilicus_, once a common slave-labourer (_mediastinus_) in Rome, hankers after town life, finding his rustic stewardship dull on a small estate such as that of Horace. To Horace the place is a charming retreat from the follies and worries of Rome. To him the estate with its quiet homestead and the five tenants of the outlying farms is an ideal property: he wants[853] a retreat, not urban excitements. To the steward it seems that there is ‘nothing doing,’ while the grandeur of a great estate is lacking. So the master is contented, while the slave is discontented, with this five-farm property looked at from their different points of view. But the most serious problem that meets us in endeavouring to appraise the evidence of the Augustan literature is connected with the _Georgics_ of Vergil. Passages from Horace will be helpful in this inquiry, in the course of which the remarkable difference between these two witnesses will appear. The stray references in other writers of the period are for the most part not worth citing. =Tibullus= speaks of the farmer[854] who has had his fill of steady ploughing, but this is in an ideal picture of the origins of agriculture. His rural scenes are not of much significance. In one place, speaking of hope[855] that sustains a man in uncertainties, for instance a farmer, he adds ‘Hope it is too that comforts one bound with a strong chain: the iron clanks on his legs, yet he sings as he works.’ A rustic slave, no doubt. But that his hope is hope of manumission is by no means clear: it may be hope of escape, and the words are indefinite, perhaps left so purposely. That =Ovid=[856] refers to the farmer statesmen and heroes of yore, who put their hands to the plough, is merely an illustration of the retrospective idealism of the Augustan age. Like Livy and the rest, he was conscious of the decay of Roman vitality, and amid the glories and dissipations of Rome recognized the vigour and simplicity of good old times. For him, and for =Manilius=, speculation[857] as to the origins of civilization, imaginings of a primitive communism, had attraction, as it had for Lucretius and Vergil. It was part of the common stock: and in connexion with the development of building it forms a topic of some interest[858] in the _architectura_ of =Vitruvius=. =Vergil.= All readers of Vergil’s _Georgics_ are struck by the poet’s persistent glorification of labour and his insistence on the necessity and profit of personal action on the farmer’s part. Yet on one very important point there is singular obscurity. Is slave-labour meant to be a part of his _res rustica_, or not? When he bids the farmer do this or that, is he bidding him to do it with his own hands, or merely to see to the doing of it, or sometimes the one and sometimes the other? So far as I know, no sufficient attention[859] has been given to the curious, and surely deliberate, avoidance of direct reference to slavery in this poem. To this subject I propose to return after considering the references in his pastoral and epic poetry. For in the artificial world of piping shepherds and in the surroundings of heroic legend the mention of slaves and slavery is under no restraint. This I hope to make clear; and, in relation to the contrast presented by the _Georgics_, to emphasize, if not satisfactorily to explain, one of the subtle reticencies of Vergil. The _Bucolics_ place us in an unreal atmosphere. The scenic setting is a blend of Theocritean Sicily and the poet’s own lowlands of the Cisalpine. The characters and status of the rustics are confused in a remarkable degree. Thus in the first eclogue Tityrus appears as a slave who has bought his freedom late in life (lines 27-9), having neglected to amass a _peculium_ in earlier years (31-2). It was only by a visit to Rome, and the favour of Octavian, that he gained relief. But this relief appears, not as manumission, but as the restoration of a landowner dispossessed by a military colonist. The inconsistency cannot be removed by treating the first version as symbolic or allegorical. It is there, and the poet seems to have felt no sufficient inducement to remove it. Corydon in the second eclogue has a _dominus_, and is therefore _servus_ (2). Yet he boasts of his large property in flocks, which are presumably his _peculium_ (19-22). His dwelling is a lowly cot in the rough grubby surroundings of the countryside (28-9). He is _pastor_ (1), but there are evidently _aratores_ on the estate (66). He is warned that, if it comes to buying favours with gifts, he cannot compete with his master Iollas (57). Had he not better do some basket-work and forget his passion (71-3)? In the third eclogue the status of Damoetas is far from clear. He appears as _alienus custos_ of a flock, the love-rival of the owner (_ipse_), whom he is robbing, profiting by the latter’s preoccupation with his amour (1-6). He is in short head-shepherd (101 _pecoris magistro_), and Tityrus (96) seems to be his underling. Menalcas in staking the cups explains that he dare not risk any of the flock under his charge, which belongs to his father and is jealously counted (32-43). He is owner’s son, with no opportunities of fraud; probably free, for we can hardly assume that the flock is a slave’s _peculium_. But whether Damoetas is (_a_) a free hireling or (_b_) a slave hired from another owner or (_c_) a slave of the flock-owner, is not to be inferred with confidence from so indistinct a picture. In the ninth eclogue we are again[860] brought across the rude military colonist (4) of the first eclogue. Moeris, who seems to be the steward of Menalcas, speaks of _nostri_ (_agelli_, 2) and _nostra_ (_carmina_, 12). Menalcas is _ipse_ (16), and supposed to represent Vergil. I incline to believe that Moeris is a slave _vilicus_, but cannot feel sure. So also in the tenth, we hear of _opilio_ and _subulci_ (19), of _custos gregis_ and _vinitor_ (36). These would in the Italy of Vergil’s time be normally slaves. But it is not the question of their status that is uppermost in the poet’s mind. They appear in the picture merely as figures suggesting the rustic environment on which he loves to dwell. As for the fourth eclogue, it is only necessary to remark that, however interpreted, it points to the return (6) of a blissful age, and accordingly assumes the former existence of good old times. It has been justly noted that the merry singing and easy life of the swains in the _Bucolics_ are incongruous with the notorious condition of the rustic slaves of Italy. No doubt the contrast is painful. But we must not presume to impute to the great and generous poet a light-headed and callous indifference to the miseries daily inflicted by capitalist exploiters of labour on their human chattels. We must not forget that in hill districts, where large-scale farming did not pay, rural life was still going on in old-fashioned grooves. Nor must we forget that in his native Cisalpine slavery was probably of a mild character. Some hundred years later we hear[861] that chained gangs of slave-labourers were not employed there: and the great armies recruited there in Caesar’s time do not suggest that the free population had dwindled there as in Etruria or Lucania. The song-loving shepherds are an importation from the Sicily of Theocritus, an extinct past, an artificial world kept alive in literature by the genius of its singer. In the hands of his great imitator the rustic figures become even more unreal. Hence the extreme difficulty of extracting any sure evidence on the status of these characters, or signs of the poet’s own sentiments, from the language of the _Bucolics_. In the _Aeneid_ we have the legends of ancient Italy and the origin of Rome subjected to epic treatment. The drift of the poem is conditioned by modern influence, the desire of Augustus to gain support for the new Empire by fostering every germ of a national sentiment. The tale of Troy has to be exploited for the purpose, and with the tale of Troy comes the necessity of reproducing so far as possible the atmosphere of the ‘heroic’ age. There is therefore hardly any reference to the matters with which I am now concerned. When the poet speaks[862] of the peoples of ancient Italy it is in terms of general praise. Their warlike vigour and hardihood, the active life of hunters and farmers, can be admired without informing the reader whether they employed slave-labour or not. And in the rare references[863] to slavery in his own day Vergil has in mind the relation of master and slave simply, without any regard to agriculture. But in depicting the society of the ‘heroic’ times, in which the adventures of Aeneas are laid, a substratum of slavery was indispensable. It was therefore drawn from the Greek epic, where it lay ready to hand. Yet the references to slaves are less numerous than we might have expected. We find them employed in table-service (I 701-6), or as personal attendants (II 580, 712, IV 391, V 263, IX 329, XI 34). We hear of a woman skilled in handicrafts (V 284) given as a prize, and Camilla is dedicated as a _famula_ of Diana (XI 558). These are not very significant references. But that slavery is assumed as an important element in the social scheme may be inferred from the references to captives in war (II 786, III 323, IX 272-3). They are liable to be offered up as _inferiae_ to the dead (XI 81-2), and the victor takes the females as concubines at will (III 323-9, IX 546). A discarded concubine is handed over to a slave-consort (III 329), and the infant children of a _serva_ form part of a common unit with their dam (V 285). Two passages are worth notice from an economic point of view. In VIII 408-12, in a simile, we have the picture of a poor hard-working housewife who rises very early to set her _famulae_ to work on their allotted tasks of wool, to ‘keep the little home together.’ One can hardly say that no such scene was possible in real life under the conditions of Vergil’s time, though we may fairly doubt the reality of a picture in which grim poverty and the desire to bring up a family of young children are combined with the ownership and employment of a staff of domestic slaves. For we find the not owning a single slave[864] used as the most characteristic sign of poverty. And I shrink from describing the situation industrially as the sweating of slave-labour to maintain respectability. I do not think any such notion was in the poet’s mind. That the simile is suggested by Greek models is pointed out by Conington, and to regard it as a borrowed ornament is probably the safest conclusion in general. It is however to be noted that the _famulae_ are not borrowed, but an addition of Vergil’s own. The other passage, XII 517-20, relates the death in battle of an Arcadian, who in his home was a fisherman, of humble station. The last point is brought out in the words[865] _conductaque pater tellure serebat_. This seems to mean that he was a small tenant farmer, a _colonus_ of the non-owning class. Such a man might or might not have a slave or two. But, even were there any indication (which there is not) to favour either alternative, the man’s home is in Arcadia, though the picture may be coloured by the poet’s familiarity with Italian details. Take it all in all, we are perhaps justified in saying that in the _Aeneid_ the realities of slavery and of humble labour generally are very lightly touched. Is this wholly due to the assumed proprieties of the heroic epic, dealing with characters above the ordinary freeman in station or natural qualities? Or may we surmise that to Vergil, with his intense human sympathies, the topic was in itself also distasteful, only to be referred to when it was hardly possible to avoid it? If little, in fact almost nothing, can be gleaned bearing on the subject of labour from the _Bucolics_ and _Aeneid_, we might hope to find plenty of information in the didactic poem specially addressed to farmers. In the opening of the _Georgics_ (I 41) Vergil plainly says that he feels sorry for the rustic folk, who know not the path to success in their vocation: he appeals to the gods interested in agriculture, and above all to Augustus, to look kindly on his bold endeavour to set farmers in the right way. When he comes to speak of the peace and plenty, the security and joys, of country life, he grows enthusiastic (II 458-74). But among the advantages he does not omit to reckon the freedom from the extravagance and garish display of city life, the freedom to drowse under trees, the enjoyment of rural sights and sounds, in short the freedom to take your ease with no lack of elbow-room (_latis otia fundis_). This hardly portrays the life of the working farmer, to whom throughout the poem he is ever preaching the gospel of toil and watchfulness. True, he adds ‘there you find forest-lands (_saltus_) with coverts for wild beasts, and a population inured to toil and used to scanty diet,’ among whom yet linger survivals of the piety and righteousness of old. It is fair to ask, who are these and what place do they fill in the poet’s picture? Surely they are not the men who have fled from the vain follies of the city: for they are genuine rustics. Surely not gang-slaves, driven out to labour in the fields and back again to be fed and locked up, like oxen or asses. To the urban slave transference to such a life was a dreaded punishment. Are they free small-scale farmers? No doubt there were still many of that class remaining in the upland parts of Italy. But were they men of leisure, able to take their ease at will on broad estates? I cannot think of them in such a character, unless I assume them to own farms of comfortable size (of course not _latifundia_) and to employ some labour of slaves or hirelings. And there is nothing in the context to justify such an assumption. Lastly, are they poor peasants, holding small plots of land and eking out a meagre subsistence by occasional wage-earning labour? Such persons seem to have existed, at least in certain parts of the country: but we know that some at least of this labour hired for the job was performed[866] by bands of non-resident labourers roaming in search of such employment. No, peasants of the ‘crofter’ type do not fit in with this picture of a rural life passed in plenty and peaceful ease. I am therefore driven to conclude that the poet was merely idealizing country life in general terms without troubling himself to exercise a rigid consistency in the combination of details. He has had many followers among poets and painters, naturally: but the claim of the _Georgics_ to rank as a didactic treatise is exceptionally strong, owing to the citations of Columella and Pliny. If then the poem seems in any respect to pass lightly over questions of importance in the consideration of farming conditions, we are tempted rather to seek for a motive than to impute neglect. But before proceeding further it is well to inquire in what sense the _Georgics_ can be called didactic. What is the essential teaching of the poem, and to whom is that teaching addressed? In outward form it professes to instruct the bewildered farmers, suffering at the time from effects of the recent civil wars as well as from economic difficulties of old standing; and to convey sound precepts for the conduct of agriculture in its various branches. But there is little doubt that the precepts are all or most of them taken directly from earlier[867] writers, Roman or Greek; and we may reasonably suppose that most of them (and those the most practical ones) were well known to the very classes most concerned in their application. It is absurd to suppose that agricultural tradition had utterly died out. The real difficulty was to put it in practice. Now, what class of farmers were to be benefited by the new poem? Was the peasant of the uplands, soaked in hereditary experience, to learn his business over again with the help of the poet-laureate’s fascinating verse? Surely he spoke a rustic[868] Latin, and sometimes hardly that. Was it likely that he would gradually absorb the doctrines of the Vergilian compendium, offered in the most refined language and metre of literary Rome? It is surely inconceivable. Nor can we assume that any remaining intensive farmers of the Campanian plain were in much need of practical instruction: what was needed there was a respite from the unsettling disturbances of the revolutionary period. To suggest that a part of the poet’s design was to supply much-needed teaching to the new _coloni_ from the disbanded armies, would be grotesque in any case, and above all in that of Vergil. If we are to find a class of men to whom the finished literary art of the _Georgics_ would appeal, and who might profit by the doctrines so attractively conveyed, we must seek them in social strata[869] possessed of education enough to appreciate the poem and sympathize with its general tone. Now all or most of such persons would be well-to-do people, owners of property, often of landed property: people of more or less leisure: in short, the cultured class, whose centre was Rome. These people would view with favour any proposal for the benefit of Italian agriculture. Many landowners at the time had got large estates cheaply in the time of troubles, and to them anything likely to improve the value of their lands, and to draw a curtain of returning prosperity over a questionable past, would doubtless be welcome. They would applaud the subtle grace with which the poet glorified the duty and profit of personal labour. But that they meant to work with their own hands I cannot believe. In the true spirit of their age, they would as a matter of course take the profit, and delegate the duty to others. Two alternatives[870] presented themselves to a landowner. He might let his estate whole or in parcels to a tenant or tenants. Or he might work it for his own account, either under his own resident direction, or through the agency of a steward. All the evidence bearing on the revolutionary period tends to shew that the resident landlord of a considerable estate, farming his own land, was a very rare type indeed. It was found most convenient as a general rule to let an out-of-the-way farm to a cultivating tenant at a money rent or on a sharing system. A more accessible one was generally put under a steward and so kept in hand by the owner. The dwelling-house was in such cases improved so as to be a fit residence for the proprietor on his occasional visits. Growing luxury often carried this change to an extreme, and made the _villa_ a ‘place in the country,’ a scene of intermittent extravagance, not of steady income-producing thrift. True, it seems that the crude and wasteful system of the earlier _latifundia_ had been a good deal modified by the end of the Republic. A wealthy man preferred to own several estates of moderate size situated near main routes of traffic. But this plan required more stewards. And the steward (_vilicus_), himself a slave, was the head of a slave-staff proportioned to the size of the farm. Now the public effectually reached by the _Georgics_ may be supposed to have included the landowners of education and leisure, whether they let their land to tenants or kept it in hand. I cannot believe that the _coloni_ farming hired land[871] came under the poet’s influence. In other words, the _Georgics_, in so far as the poem made its way beyond purely literary circles, appealed chiefly if not wholly to a class dependent on slave-labour in every department of their lives. Maecenas, to whom the poem is in form addressed, had put pressure on Vergil to write it. At the back of Maecenas was the new Emperor, anxious to enlist all the talents in the service of the new dispensation. The revival of rural Italy was one of the praiseworthy projects of the Emperor and his confidential minister. It was indeed on every ground manifestly desirable. But was it possible now to turn Romans of property into working farmers? Would the man-about-Rome leave urban pleasures for the plough-tail? Not he! Nor are we to assume that Augustus was fool enough to expect it. Then what about Maecenas? His enjoyment of luxurious ease[872] was a byword: that he retained his native commonsense under such conditions is one of his chief titles to fame. No one can have expected him to wield the spade and mattock or spread manure. The poet writing with such a man for patron and prompter was not likely to find his precepts enjoining personal labour taken too seriously. His readers were living in a social and moral atmosphere in which to do anything involving labour meant ordering a slave to do it. That the Emperor wished to see more people interested in the revival of Italian agriculture was well understood. But this interest could be shown by investing capital in Italian land; and this is what many undoubtedly did. Recent proscriptions and confiscations had thrown numbers of estates on the market. It was possible to get a good bargain and at the same time win the favour of the new ruler by a well-timed proof of confidence in the stability of the new government. Now it is to say the least remarkable that Dion Cassius, doubtless following earlier authorities, puts into the mouth of Maecenas some suggestions[873] on this very subject. After advising the Emperor to raise a standing army by enlisting the able-bodied unemployed men in Italy, and pointing out that with the security thus gained, and the provision of a harmless career for the sturdy wastrels who were at present a cause of disorders, agriculture and commerce would revive, he proceeds as follows. For these measures money will be needed, as it would under any government: therefore the necessity of some exactions must be faced. ‘The very first thing[874] then for you to do is to have a sale of the confiscated properties, of which there are many owing to the wars, reserving only a few that are specially useful or indispensable for your purposes: and then to employ all the money so raised by lending it out at moderate interest. If you do this, the land will be under cultivation (ἐνεργός), being placed in the hands of owners who themselves work (δεσπόταις αὐτουργοῖς δοθεῖσα): they will become more prosperous, having the disposal of capital: and the treasury will have a sufficient and perpetual income.’ He then urges the necessity of preparing a complete budget estimate of regular receipts from the above and other sources, and of the prospective regular charges both military and civil, with allowance for unforeseen contingencies. ‘And your next step should be to provide for any deficit by imposing a tax on all properties whatsoever that bring a profit (ἐπικαρπίαν τινὰ) to the owner, and by a system of tributary dues in all our subject provinces.’ That this long oration attributed by Dion to Maecenas is in great part made up from details of the policy actually followed by the Emperor, is I believe generally admitted. But I am not aware that the universal income-tax suggested was imposed. The policy of encouraging agriculture certainly formed part of the imperial scheme, and the function of the _Georgics_ was to bring the power of literature to bear in support of the movement. The poet could hardly help referring in some way to the crying need of a great agricultural revival. He did it with consummate skill. He did not begin by enlarging on the calamities of the recent past, and then proceed to offer his remedies. Such a method would at once have aroused suspicion and ill-feeling. No, he waited till he was able to glide easily into a noble passage in which he speaks of the civil wars as a sort of doom sanctioned by the heavenly powers. No party could take offence at this way of putting it. Then he cries aloud to the Roman gods, not to prevent the man of the hour (_hunc iuvenem_) from coming to the relief of a ruined generation. The needs of the moment are such that we cannot do without him. The world is full of wickedness and wars: ‘the plough is not respected as it should be; the tillers of the soil have been drafted away, and the land is gone to weeds; the crooked sickles are being forged into straight swords.’ The passage comes at the end of the first book, following a series of precepts delivered coolly and calmly as though in a social atmosphere of perfect peace. The tone in which the words recall the reader to present realities, and subtly hint at the obvious duty of supporting the one possible restorer of Roman greatness, is an unsurpassed feat of literary art. It is followed up at the end of the second book in another famous passage, in which he preaches with equal delicacy the doctrine that agricultural revival is the one sure road not only to personal happiness but to the true greatness of the Roman people. That this revival was bound up with the return to a system of farming on a smaller scale, implying more direct personal attention on the landlord’s part, is obvious. But the poet goes further. His model farmer is to be convinced of the necessity and benefit of personal labour, and so to put his own hand to the plough. The glorification of unyielding toil[875] as the true secret of success was (and is) a congenial topic to preachers of the gospel of ‘back to the land.’ It may well be that the thoughtful Vergil had misgivings as to the fruitfulness of his doctrine. A cynical critic might hint that it was easy enough for one man to urge others to work. But a man like Maecenas would smile at such remarks. To set other people to do what he would never dream of doing himself was to him the most natural thing in the world. So the pressure of the patron on the poet continued, and the _Georgics_ were born. Let me now turn to certain passages of the poem in which farm-labour is directly referred to, and see how far the status of the labourers can be judged from the expressions used and the context. And first of _aratores_. In I 494 and II 513 the _agricola_ is a plowman; free, for all that appears to the contrary. In II 207, where he appears as clearing off wood[876] and ploughing up the land, the _arator_ is called _iratus_: this can hardly apply to an indifferent slave. The _arator_ of I 261, represented as turning the leisure enforced by bad weather to useful indoor work, odd jobs in iron and wood work etc, may be one of a slave-staff whom his master will not have idle. Or he may be the farmer himself. The scene implies the presence of a staff of some kind, driven indoors by the rain. And that the poet is not thinking of a solitary peasant is further indicated by mention of sheep-washing, certainly not a ‘one-man-job,’ in line 272. Why Conington (after Heyne) takes _agitator aselli_ in 273 to be ‘the peasant who happens to drive the ass to market,’ and not an _asinarius_ doing his regular duty, I cannot say. On III 402, a very similar passage, he takes the _pastor_ to be probably the farm-slave, not the owner, adding ‘though it is not always easy to see for what class of men Virgil is writing.’ A remark which shews that my present inquiry is not uncalled for. To return, there is nothing to shew whether the ass-driver is a freeman or a slave. Nor is the status of _messores_[877] clear. In I 316-7 the farmer brings the mower on to the yellow fields; that is, he orders his hands to put in the sickle. What is their relation to him we do not hear. So too in II 410 _postremus metito_ is a precept addressed to the farmer as farmer, not as potential labourer. On the other hand the _messores_ in the second and third eclogues seem to be slaves, for there is reference to _domini_ in both poems. The _fossor_ is in literature the personification of mere heavy manual labour. In default of evidence to the contrary, we must suppose him to be normally[878] a slave. Thus the _fossor_ of Horace _odes_ III 18 is probably one of the _famuli operum soluti_ of the preceding ode. But the brawny digger of _Georgics_ II 264, who aids nature’s work by stirring and loosening the caked earth, is left on a neutral footing. Nothing is said. The reader must judge whether this silence is the result of pure inadvertency. That _pastores_ very often means slave-herdsmen, is well known. But Vergil seems to attribute to them a more real and intelligent interest in the welfare of their charge than it is reasonable to expect from rustic slaves. The _pastores_ of IV 278, who gather the medicinal herb used in the treatment of bees, may be slaves: if so, they are not mere thoughtless animals. And the scene is in the Cisalpine, where we have noted that slavery was probably of a mild type. In III 420 the _pastor_ is called upon to protect his beasts from snakes. But we know[879] that it was a part of slave-herdsmen’s duty to fight beasts of prey, and that they were commonly armed for that purpose. In III 455 we find him shrinking from a little act of veterinary surgery, which the context suggests he ought to perform. But we know that the _magister pecoris_ on a farm was instructed[880] in simple veterinary practice, and it is hardly likely that other slaves, specially put in charge of beasts, had no instructions. The _pastores_ (if more than one, the chief,) appear as _pecorum magistri_ (II 529, III 445, cf _Buc_ III 101), a regular name for shepherds: they are not the same as the _magistri_ of III 549, who are veterinary specialists disguised under mythical names. In II 529-31 we have a holiday scene, in which the farmer (_ipse_) treats the _pecoris magistri_ to a match of wrestling and throwing the javelin. If slaves are meant, then Vergil is surely carrying back rustic slavery to early days as part and parcel of the ‘good old times’ to which he points in the following lines _hanc olim veteres vitam coluere Sabini_ etc. The _ipse_ will then be a genial farmer of the old school, whose slaves are very different from the degraded and sullen chattels of more recent years. But in this as in other cases the poet gives us no clear sign. A passage[881] in which the reticence of which I am speaking has a peculiar effect occurs in the description of the grievous murrain that visited northern Italy some time before. One of a pair of oxen falls dead while drawing the plough. The _tristis arator_[882] unyokes the other, sorrow-stricken at the death of its fellow; he leaves the plough where it stopped, and goes his way. Then follows a piece of highly-wrought pathos[883] describing the dejection and collapse of the surviving ox. ‘What now avail him his toil or his services, his past work in turning up the heavy land with the ploughshare?’ And the hardness of the poor beast’s lot is emphasized by the reflexion that disease in cattle is not induced by gluttony and wine-bibbing, as it often is in the case of mankind, nor by the worries (_cura_) that rob men of refreshing sleep. This much-admired passage may remind us of the high value set upon the ox in ancient Italy, traditionally amounting to a kind of sanctity; for it is said[884] that to kill an ox was as great a crime as to kill a man. We may wonder too what the luxurious but responsible Maecenas thought of the lines contrasting the simple diet and untroubled life of the ox with the excesses and anxieties of man. But, if civilization owed much to the labours of the ox, and if gratitude was due to man’s patient helper, what about the human slave? Is it not a remarkable thing that the _Georgics_ contain not a word of appreciative reference to the myriads of toiling bondsmen whose sweat and sufferings had been exploited by Roman landlords for at least 150 years? Can this silence on the part of a poet who credits an ox with human affection be regarded as a merely accidental omission? Of poets in general it may I think be truly said that the relation between the singer and his vocabulary varies greatly in various cases. Personal judgments are very fallible: but to me, the more I read Vergil, the more I see in him an extreme case of the poet ever nervously on his guard[885] against expressing or suggesting any meaning or shade of meaning beyond that which at a given moment he wishes to convey. This is no original discovery. But in reaching it independently I have become further convinced that the limitations of his vocabulary are evidence of nice and deliberate selection. The number of well-established Latin words, adaptable to verse and to the expression of ideas certain to occur, that are used by other poets of note but not by him, is considerable. I have a long list: here I will mention only one, the adjective _vagus_. The word may have carried to him associations below the pure dignity of his finished style. Yet Horace used it freely in the _Odes_, and Horace was surely no hasty hack careless of propriety, and no mean judge of what was proper. Now, when I turn to the _Georgics_, Vergil’s most finished work, I am struck by the absence of certain words the presence of which would seem natural, or even to be expected, in any work professedly treating of agriculture in Roman Italy. Thus _servus_ does not occur at all, _serva_ in the _Aeneid_ only, and _servitium_ in the strict sense only _Buc_ I 40 and _Aen_ III 327. In _Georg_ III 167-8 _ubi libera colla servitio adsuerint_ he is speaking of the breaking-in of young oxen[886] in figurative language. So too _dominus_ and _domina_ occur in the _Bucolics_ and _Aeneid_ but not in the _Georgics_. The case of _opera_ and the plural _operae_ may seem to be on a somewhat different footing in so far as the special sense of _opera_ = ‘the average day’s work[887] of a labourer’ would perhaps have too technical and prosaic a flavour. In the single instance (_Aen_ VII 331-2), where it occurs in the familiar phrase _da operam_, it is coupled with _laborem_, which rather suggests a certain timidity in the use of a colloquial expression. The plural, frequent in the writers on agriculture, he does not use at all, whether because he avoids the statistical estimates in which it most naturally comes, or from sheer fastidiousness due to the disreputable associations of _operae_ in political slang. Perhaps neither of these reasons is quite enough to account for the absence of the word from the _Georgics_. That _famulus_ and _famula_ occur in the _Aeneid_ only is not surprising, for they represent the δμῶες and δμωαὶ of Greek heroic poetry. But _famula_ appears in the _Moretum_, of which I will speak below. That Vergil is all the while pointing the way to a system of small farms and working farmers, though some topics (for instance stock-keeping) seem to touch on a larger scale of business, may be gathered from his references to _coloni_. The word is in general used merely as the substantive corresponding to _colere_, and its place is often taken by _agricola_ (I 300, II 459) or _rusticus_ (II 406) or other substitutes. In II 433 _homines_ means much the same as the _agrestis_ of I 41, only that the former need stimulus and the latter guidance. The typical picture of the _colonus_ comes in I 291-302, where the small farmer and his industrious wife are seen taking some relaxation in the winter season, but never idle. It is surely a somewhat idealized picture. The parallel in Horace (_epode_ II) is more matter-of-fact, and clearly includes slaves, an element ignored by Vergil. The _colonus_ is not a mere tenant farmer, but a yeoman tilling his own land, like the _veteres coloni_ of the ninth eclogue, a freeman, and we may add liable to military service, like those in I 507 whose conscription left the farms derelict. A curious and evidently exceptional case is that of the _Corycius senex_ (IV 125-46), said to be one of Pompey’s pirate colonists. The man is a squatter on a patch of unoccupied land, which he has cultivated as a garden, raising by unwearied industry quite wonderful crops of vegetables fruit and flowers, and remarkably successful[888] as a bee-keeper. Perhaps this transplanted Oriental had no slave, at least when he started gardening. But I note that his croft was more than a _iugerum_ (_pauca relicti iugera ruris_) at the time when Vergil saw it, and I imagine the process of reclaiming the waste to have been gradual. When this small holding was complete and in full bearing, would the work of one elderly man suffice to carry it on? I wonder. But we get no hint of a slave or a hireling, or even of a wife. All I can venture to say is that this story is meant to be significant of the moral and material wellbeing of the small cultivator. It is curious that just above (118, cf 147-8) the poet is at pains to excuse his omission to discuss in detail the proper management of _horti_, on the pretext of want of space. For he was no mean antiquary, and Pliny tells[889] us that in the Twelve Tables _hortus_ was used of what was afterwards called _villa_, a country farm, while _heredium_ stood for a garden; and adds that in old time _per se hortus ager pauperis erat_. But _hortus_ is to Vergil strictly a garden, and the old Corycian is cited expressly as a gardener: his land, we are told, was not suited for growing corn or vines. The mention of gardening invites me to say a few words on the short descriptive idyll _Moretum_ which has been regarded as a youthful composition of Vergil (perhaps from a Greek original) with more justice than some other pieces attributed to him. I see no strong objection to admitting it as Vergilian, but it is of course crude and far removed from the manner and finish of the mature _Georgics_. The peasant Simylus, _exigui cultor rusticus agri_, is a poor small farmer whose thrift and industry enable him to make a living ‘in a humble and pottering way,’ as Gilbert puts it. His holding is partly ordinary arable land, but includes a _hortus_ as well. In the latter he skilfully grows a variety of vegetables, for which he finds a regular market in the city. Poor though he is, and accustomed to wait on himself, apparently unmarried, he yet owns a slave (_famulam_, 93) and she is a negro, fully described (31-5), woolly hair, thick lips, dark skin, spindle shanks, paddle feet, etc. She probably would do the house-work, but the preparation of food is a duty in which her master also bears a part. We hear of no male slave, and the ploughing of fields and digging the garden are apparently done by himself singlehanded. The yoke of oxen are mentioned in the last lines. The picture is such as may have been true of some humble homesteads in Italy, but the tradition of a Greek original, and the names Simylus and Scybale, must leave us in some doubt as to whether the scene be really Italian. The position is in fact much the same as it is in regard to the _Bucolics_. Whatever may be the correct view as to the authorship and bearing of the _Moretum_, there are I think certain conclusions to be drawn from an examination of the _Georgics_, which it is time to summarize. First, the tendency of the poem is to advocate a system of smaller holdings and more intensive cultivation than had for a long period been customary in a large part of Italy. This reform is rather suggested by implication than directly urged, though one precept, said to be borrowed[890] from old Cato, recommends it in plain words. For the glorification of labour in general is all the while pointing in this direction. Secondly, the policy of the new Emperor, who posed as Restorer and Preserver rather than Reformer, finds a sympathetic or obedient expression in this tendency. For it is delicately conveyed that the reform of an evil agricultural present virtually consists in the return to the ways of a better past. And the poet, acting as poet simply, throws on this better past the halo of a golden age still more remote. The virtues of the Sabines of old[891] are an example of the happiness and honour attainable by a rustic folk. But to Vergil, steeped in ancient legend, the historic worthies of a former age are not the beginning of things. They come ‘trailing clouds of glory’ from the mythical origin[892] of mankind, from a world of primeval abundance and brotherly communism, a world which he like Lucretius pauses to portray. Thirdly, the reaction of Augustus against the bold cosmopolitanism of Julius Caesar has I think left a mark on the _Georgics_ in the fact that the poem is, as Sellar says, so thoroughly representative of Italy. Roman Italy was not yet ready to become merely a part of an imperial estate. If people were to acquiesce in a monarchy, it had to be disguised, and one important disguise was the make-believe that the Roman people were lords of the world. A very harmless method of ministering to Roman self-complacency was excessive praise of Italy, its soil, its climate, its natural features, its various products, its races of men and their works, and all the historic associations of the victorious past. It is a notable fact that this panegyric[893] breaks out in the utterances of four very dissimilar works that still survive: for beside the _Georgics_ I must place[894] the so-called _Roman Antiquities_ of Dionysius, the _Geography_ of Strabo, and the _de re rustica_ of Varro. These four are practically contemporaries. It seems to me hardly credible that there was not some common influence operative at the time and encouraging utterances of this tone. The actual success or failure of the attempt to revive Roman agriculture on a better footing is not only a question of fact in itself historically important: its determination will throw light on the circumstances in which Vergil wrote, and perhaps help somewhat in suggesting reasons for his avoidance of certain topics. If we are to believe Horace[895], the agricultural policy of Augustus was a grand success: security, prosperity, virtue, good order, had become normal: fertility had returned to the countryside. I had better say at once that I put little faith in these utterances of a court poet. Far more significant is the statement, preserved by Suetonius[896], of the evils dealt with by Augustus in country districts. Parties of armed bandits infested the country. Travellers, slaves and freemen alike, were kidnapped and _ergastulis possessorum supprimebantur_. He checked the brigandage by armed police posted at suitable spots, and _ergastula recognovit_. But it is not said that he did away with them: he cleared out of them the persons illegally held in bondage (_suppressi_). Not only is rustic slavery in full swing in the treatise of Varro: some 80 years later the _ergastulum_ is adopted as a matter of course by Columella, and appears as a canker of agriculture in the complaints of Pliny. The neglect of rustic industry is lamented by all three writers, and to the testimony of such witnesses it is quite needless to add quotations from writers of merely literary merit. There is no serious doubt that the reconstruction of agriculture on the basis of small farms tilled by working farmers was at best successful in a very moderate degree; and this for many a long year. Organized slave-labour remained the staple appliance of tillage until the growing scarcity of slaves and the financial policy of the later Empire brought about the momentous change by which the free farmer gradually became the predial serf. Another point to be noted in the _Georgics_ is the absence of any reference to _coloni_ as tenants under a landlord. Yet we know that this relation existed in Cicero’s time, and tenant farmers appear in Varro[897] and Columella[898]. Vergil, but for a stray reference in the _Aeneid_, might seem never to have heard of the existence of such people. It is easy to say that the difference between an owner and a tenant is a difference in law, and unsuited for discussion in a poem. But it also involves economic problems. The landlord wants a good return on his capital, the tenant wants to make a good living, and the conditions of tenancy vary greatly in various cases. The younger Pliny[899] had to deal with awkward questions between him and his tenants, and there is no reason to suppose that his case was exceptional. Surely the subject was one of immediate interest to an agricultural reformer, quite as interesting as a number of the details set forth here and there in the _Georgics_; that is, assuming that the author meant his farmer to be economically prosperous as well as to set a good example. It may be argued that the operations enjoined on the farmer would greatly improve the farm and enhance the value of the land, and that no man in his senses would do this unless the land were his own: there was therefore no need to discuss tenancy, ownership being manifestly implied. The argument is fair, so far as it goes. But it does not justify complete silence on what was probably at the moment a question of no small importance in the eyes of landowners. Some passages of Horace may serve to shew that circumstances might have justified or even invited some reference to this topic. In the seventh _epistle_ of the first book he tells the story of how Philippus played a rather scurvy trick on a freedman in a small way of business as an auctioneer. As a social superior, his patronage turned the poor man’s head. Taking him for an outing to his own Sabine country place, he infected him with desire of a rustic life. He amused himself by persuading him to buy a small farm, offering him about £60 as a gift and a loan of as much more. The conversion of a regular town-bred man into a thoroughgoing farmer was of course a pitiful failure. Devotion and industry availed him nothing. The losses and disappointments incidental to farming were too much for him. He seems to have had no slave: he probably had not sufficient capital. He ended by piteously entreating his patron to put him back into his own trade. The story is placed about two generations before Horace wrote. But it would be pointless if it were out of date in its setting, which it surely is not; it might have happened to a contemporary, nay to Horace himself. It is addressed to his own patron Maecenas, the generous donor of his own Sabine estate. Here we have a clear intimation that to buy a little plot and try to get a living out of it by your own labour was an enterprise in which success was no easy matter. In the second _satire_ of the second book we have the case of Ofellus, one of the yeomen of the old school. He had been a working farmer on his own land, but in the times of trouble his farm had been confiscated and made over to a discharged soldier. But this veteran wisely left him in occupation as cultivator on terms. Whether he became a sort of farm-bailiff, working for the new owner’s account at a fixed salary, or whether he became a tenant, farming on his own account and paying a rent, has been doubted. I am strongly of the second opinion. For it was certainly to the owner’s interest that the land should be well-farmed, and that his own income (the endowment of his later years) should be well-secured by giving the farmer every motive for industry. These considerations do not suit well with the former alternative, which also makes _colonus_ hardly distinguishable from _vilicus_. Again, the _colonus_ is on the farm[900] _cum pecore et gnatis_. The _pecus_, like the children, is surely the farmer’s own, and it is much more likely that the live-stock should belong to a rent-paying tenant than to a salaried bailiff. Moreover, there is no mention of slaves. The man works the farm with the help of his family. Is it likely that he would turn them into a household of serfs? Therefore I render line 115 _fortem mercede colonum_ ‘a sturdy tenant-farmer sitting at a rent’; that is, on a holding that as owner he formerly occupied rent-free. He can make the farm pay even now: as for the mere fact of ground-landlordship, that is an idle boast, and in any case limited by the span of human life. I claim that these two passages are enough to prove the point for which I am contending; namely, that questions of the tenure under which agriculture could best be carried on were matters of some interest and importance about the time when Vergil was writing the _Georgics_. But the help of Horace is by no means exhausted. He refers to a story of a wage-earning labourer (_mercennarius_) who had the luck to turn up a buried treasure, a find which enabled him to buy the very farm on which he was employed, and work it as his own. There is no point in this ‘yarn’ unless it was a well-known tale, part of the current stock of the day. The famous _satire_ in which it occurs (II 6) seems to be almost exactly contemporary with the appearance of the _Georgics_. In it the restful charm of country life is heartily preferred to the worries and boredom of Rome. His Sabine estate, with its garden, its unfailing spring of water, and a strip of woodland, is of no great size, but it is enough: he is no greedy land-grabber. When in Rome he longs for it. There he can take his ease among spoilt young slaves, born[901] on the place, keeping a sort of Liberty Hall for his friends. The talk at table is not _de villis domibusve alienis_ but of a more rational and improving kind: envy of other men’s wealth is talked out with an apposite fable. Here we have mention of wage-earning, land-purchase, and slaves. And the poet’s estate is evidently in the first place a residence, not a farm worked on strict economic lines. That the number of slave hands (_operae_) employed there on the Home Farm[902] was eight, we learn from another _satire_ (II 7 118). To the smart country seats, which advertise the solid wealth of rich capitalists, he refers in express terms in _epistles_ I 15 45-6, and by many less particular references. The land-grabbers are often mentioned, and the forest-lands (_saltus_) used for grazing, in which much money was invested by men ‘land-proud,’ as a sign of their importance. In short, the picture of rural Italy given by Horace reveals to us a state of things wholly unfavourable to the reception of the message of the _Georgics_. When he speaks of _pauper ruris colonus_ or of _inopes coloni_ he is surely not betraying envy of these toilers’ lot. Far from it. When enjoying a change in his country place, he may occasionally divert himself with a short spell[903] of field-work, at which his neighbours grin. On the other hand the spectacle of a disreputable freedman, enriched by speculations in time of public calamity, and enabled through ill-gotten wealth to become a great landlord, is the cause of wrathful indignation (_epode_ IV). And these and other candid utterances come from one whose father was a freedman in a country town, farming in quite a small way, to whose care and self-denial the son owed the education that equipped him for rising in the world. Horace indeed is one of the best of witnesses on these points. There are points on which Vergil and Horace are agreed, though generally with a certain difference of attitude. Thus, both prefer the country to the town, but Horace frankly because he enjoys it and likes a rest: he does not idealize country life as such, still less agricultural labour. Both disapprove _latifundia_, but Horace on simple commonsense grounds, not as a reformer. Both praise good old times, but Horace without the faintest suggestion of possible revival of them, or anything like them. Both refer to the beginnings of civilization, but Vergil looks back to a golden age of primitive communism, when _in medium quaerebant_ and so forth; a state of things ended by Jove’s ordinance that man should raise himself by toil. Horace, less convinced of the superiority of the past, depicts[904] the noble savage as having to fight for every thing, even acorns; and traces steps, leading eventually to law and order, by which he became less savage and more noble. Horace is nearer to Lucretius here than Vergil is. Neither could ignore the disturbing effect of the disbanding of armies and ejectment of farmers to make way for the settlement of rude soldiers on the land. But to Horace, personally unconcerned, a cool view was more possible. So, while hinting at public uneasiness[905] as to the detailed intentions of the new ruler in this matter, he is able to look at the policy in general merely as the restoration of weary veterans to a life of peace and the relief of their chief’s anxieties. Vergil, himself a sufferer, had his little fling in the _Bucolics_, and was silent[906] in the _Georgics_. Again, Vergil shuns the function of war as a means of supplying the slave-market. He knows it well enough, and as a feature of the ‘heroic’ ages the fate of the captive appears in the _Aeneid_. Horace makes no scruple[907] of stating the time-honoured principle that a captive is to the conqueror a valuable asset: there is a market for him as a serviceable drudge, and not to spare his life is sheer waste. That there may be sarcasm underlying the passage does not impair its candour. And it distinctly includes rustic slavery in the words _sine pascat durus aretque_. Lastly, while both poets praise the restfulness of the countryside with equal sincerity, it is Horace who recognizes[908] that the working farmer himself, after his long labours at the plough, looks forward to retirement and ease when he has saved enough to live on. His is a real rustic, Vergil’s an ideal. It will be admitted that all writers are, as sources of evidence, at their best when they feel free to say or to leave unsaid this or that according to their own judgment. If there is in the background some other person whom it is necessary to please, it is very hard to divine the reason of an author’s frankness, and still more of his reticence. For instance, the omission of a topic naturally connected with a subject need not imply that a patron forbade its introduction. I cannot believe that such a man as Maecenas[909] banned the free mention of slavery in the _Georgics_. But, if a whole subject is proposed for treatment under conditions of a well-understood tendency, the writer is not unlikely to discover that artistic loyalty to that tendency will operate to render the introduction of this or that particular topic a matter of extreme difficulty. If the task of Vergil was to recommend a return to a more wholesome system of agriculture, reference to the labour-question or to land-tenure bristled with difficulties. My belief is that the poet shirked these topics, relevant though they surely were, because he did not see how to treat them without provoking controversy or ill-feeling; a result which Maecenas and the Emperor were undoubtedly anxious to avoid. It was simpler and safer not to refer to these things. True, the omission was a restraint on full-blooded realism. An indistinct picture was produced, and modern critics have some reason to complain of the difficulty of understanding many places of the _Georgics_. Whether chronological considerations may throw any light on the influences to which this indistinctness is due, and, if so, what is their exact significance, are very difficult questions, to which I cannot offer a definite answer. The completion of the _Georgics_ is placed in the year 30 BC, after seven years more or less spent on composition and revision. Now it was in that year that the new ruler, supreme since the overthrow of Antony, organized the great disbandment of armies of which he speaks in the famous inscription[910] recording the events of his career. He tells us that he rewarded all the discharged men, either with assignations of land or with sums of money in lieu thereof. The lands were bought by him (not confiscated) and the money-payments also were at his cost (_a me dedi_). Below he refers to the matter again, and adds that to pay for lands taken and assigned to soldiers was a thing no one had ever done before. That he paid in all cases, and paid the full market value, he does not expressly say; Mommsen shews cause for doubting it. The only remark I have to make is that in the years between Philippi and Aetium there was plenty of fighting and negotiations. Maecenas was for most of the time in a position of great trust, and pretty certainly in touch with all that went on. The fact that a wholesale discharge of soldiers was surely coming, and that the future of agriculture in Italy was doubtful, was perhaps not likely to escape the forecast of so far-sighted a man. Is it just possible that Vergil may have had a hint from him, to stick to generalities and avoid controversial topics? We are credibly informed[911] that Maecenas was well rewarded by his master for his valuable services, and it has been pointed out[912] that his position of authority offered many opportunities of profitable transactions on his own account. There is even an express tradition that he was concerned in the liquidation of one estate. In short, he was one of the land-speculators of the time. To such a man it would seem not untimely to praise the virtues of the rustic Romans of old and to recommend their revival in the coming age; but to call attention to the uncertainties of the present, involving many awkward problems, would seem imprudent. In suggesting, doubtfully, that a patron’s restraining hand may have had something to do with the poet’s reticence, I may be exaggerating the pressure exercised by the one on the other. But that Maecenas interested himself in the slowly-growing poem is hardly to be doubted. Early in each of the four books he is addressed by name. His _haud mollia iussa_ (III 41) may imply nothing more than the general difficulty of Vergil’s task: but may it not faintly indicate just the least little restiveness under a guidance that could not be refused openly? To reject the suggestion of actual interference on Maecenas’ part is not to say that the _Georgics_ exhibits no deference to his wishes. That many a veiled hint could be given by a patron in conversation is obvious. That Maecenas would be a master of that judicious art, is probable from what we know of his character and career. But, while it is plain that questions of land-tenure would from his point of view be better ignored, how would his likes and dislikes affect the mention of slavery and the labour-question? Here I must refer to the three great writers on agriculture. Cato, about 150 years earlier, and Columella, about 80 years later, both contemplate the actual buying of land, and insist on the care necessary in selection. The contemporary Varro seems certainly to assume purchase. All three deal with slave-labour, Cato like a hard-fisted _dominus_ of an old-Roman generation just become consciously imperial and bent on gain, Columella as a skilful organizer of the only regular supply of labour practically available: Varro, who makes more allowance[913] for free labour beside that of slaves, reserves the free man for important jobs, where he may be trusted to use his wits, or for unhealthy work, in which to risk slaves is to risk your own property. All the ordinary work in his system is done by slaves. The contemporary Livy[914] tells us that in his time large districts near Rome had scarce any free inhabitants left. The elder Pliny, reckoning up the advantages of Italy for the practice of agriculture, includes[915] among them the supply of _servitia_, though no man knew better than he what fatal results had issued from the plantation-system. It is to be borne in mind that this evidence relates to the plains and the lower slopes of hills, that is to the main agricultural districts. It is to these parts that Gardthausen[916] rightly confines his remarks on the desolation of Italy, which began before the civil wars and was accelerated by them. Other labour was scarce, and gangs of slaves, generally chained, were almost the only practicable means of tillage for profit. Speaking broadly, I think the truth of this picture is not to be denied. If then the word had gone forth that a return to smaller-scale farming was to be advocated as a cure for present evils, it was hardly possible to touch on slavery without some unfavourable reference to the plantation-system. Now surely it is most unlikely that Maecenas, a cool observer and a thorough child of the age, sincerely believed in the possibility of setting back the clock. The economic problem could not be solved so simply, by creating a wave of ‘back-to-the-land’ enthusiasm. I suggest that he saw no good to be got by openly endeavouring to recreate the race of small working farmers by artificial means. Would it be wise to renew an attempt in which the Gracchi had failed? Now to Vergil, who had passed his youth in a district of more humane agriculture, the mere praise of farming, with its rich compensations for never-ending toil and care, would be a congenial theme. The outcome of their combination was that a topic not easily idealized in treatment was omitted. The realistic value of the picture was impaired to the relief of both poet and patron. But what the poem gained as a beautiful aspiration it lost as a practical authority. Can we suppose that Vergil did not know how important a place in contemporary agriculture was filled by slave-labour? I think not: surely it is inconceivable. What meets us at every turn in other writers cannot have been unknown to him. Macrobius[917] has preserved for us a curious record belonging to 43 BC, when the great confiscations and assignations of land were being carried out in the Cisalpine by order of the Triumvirs. Money and arms, needed for the coming campaign of Philippi, were being requisitioned at the same time. The men of property threatened by these exactions hid themselves. Their slaves were offered rewards and freedom if they would betray their masters’ hiding-places, but not one of them yielded to the temptation. The commander who made the offer was Pollio. No doubt domestics are chiefly meant, but there were rustic slaves, and we have reason to think that they were humanely treated in those parts. Dion Cassius[918] tells us that in 41 BC Octavian, under great pressure from the clamorous armies, saw nothing to be done but to take all Italian lands from present owners and hand them over to the soldiers μετά τε τῆς δουλείας καὶ μετὰ τῆς ἄλλης κατασκευῆς. Circumstances necessitated compromise, which does not concern us here. But it is well to remember that it was just the best land that the soldiers wanted, and with it slaves and other farm-stock. For it was a pension after service, not a hard life of bodily drudgery, that was in view. The plan of letting the former owner stay on as a tenant has been referred to above. I hold then that Vergil’s silence on the topics to which I have called attention, however congenial it may have been to him, was intentional: and that the poem, published _in honorem Maecenatis_[919], was limited as to its practical outlook with the approval, if not at the suggestion, of the patron. It is essentially a literary work. In it Vergil’s power of gathering materials from all quarters and fusing them into a whole of his own creation is exemplified to a wonderful degree. His own deep love of the country, with its homely sights and sounds, phenomena of a Nature whose laws he felt unable to explore, helped him to execute the task of recommending a social and economic reform through the medium of poetry. By ignoring topics deemed unsuitable, he left his sympathies and enthusiasm free course, and without sympathies and enthusiasm the _Georgics_ would not have been immortal. Even when digressing from agriculture, as in his opening address to the Emperor, there is more sincerity than we are at first disposed to grant. He had not been a Republican, like Horace, and probably had been from the first attached to the cause of the Caesars. I can discover no ground for thinking[920] that Vergil was ever himself a farmer. That Pliny and Columella cite him as an authority is in my opinion due to the predominance of his works in the literary world. As writers of prose dealing with facts often of an uninspiring kind, it would seem to raise the artistic tone of heavy paragraphs if the first name in Latin literature could be introduced with an apposite quotation in agreement with their own context. Vergil-worship began early and lasted long; and indeed his admirers in the present day are sometimes so absorbed in finding[921] more and more in what he said that they do not trouble themselves to ask whether there may not be some significance[922] in his silences. Rightly or wrongly, I am persuaded that this question ought at least to be asked in connexion with the _Georgics_. I have reserved till the last a passage[923] of Seneca, in which he challenges the authority of Vergil in some points connected with trees, speaking of him as _Vergilius noster, qui non quid verissime sed quid decentissime diceretur aspexit, nec agricolas docere voluit sed legentes delectare_. Now Seneca was devoted to the works of Vergil, and is constantly quoting them. He has no prejudice against the poet. The view of the _Georgics_ set forth in these words implies no literary dispraise, but a refusal to let poetic excellence give currency to technical errors. Seneca is often tiresome, but in this matter his criticism is in my opinion sound. In the matter of labour my contention is not that the poet has inadvertently erred, but that he has for some reason deliberately dissembled. XXX. THE ELDER SENECA AND OTHERS. The comparatively silent interval, between the Augustan circle and the new group of writers under Claudius and Nero, furnishes little of importance. The one writer who stands out as giving us a few scraps of evidence is the =elder Seneca=, the earliest of the natives of Spain who made their mark in Latin literature. But the character of his work, which consists of examples of the treatment of problem-cases in the schools of rhetoric, makes him a very peculiar witness. When he tells us how this or that pleader of note made some point neatly, the words have their appropriate place in the texture of a particular argument. Often they contain a fallacious suggestion or a misstatement useful for the purpose of _ex parte_ advocacy, but having as statements no authority whatever. Still there are a few references of significance and value. Thus, when the poor man’s son refuses the rich man’s offer to adopt him, and his own father approves the proposal, one rhetorician made the young man[924] say ‘Great troops of slaves whom their lord does not know by sight, and the farm-prisons echoing to the sound of the lash, have no charm for me: my love for my father is an unbought love.’ Again, a poor man, whose property has been outrageously damaged by a rich neighbour, protests[925] against the whims of modern luxury. ‘Country districts’ he says ‘that once were the plough-lands of whole communities are now each worked by a single slave-gang, and the sway of stewards is wider than the realms of kings.’ Now, we cannot cite the old rhetorician as an authority on agriculture directly: but he gives us proof positive that references to estates worked by gangs[926] of slaves, and the _ergastula_ in which the poor wretches were shut up after the hours of labour, would not in his time sound strange to Roman audiences. Another passage[927] touches on a very typical lecture-room theme, an unnatural son. A father is banished for unintentional homicide. The law forbids the sheltering and feeding of an exile. But the father contrives to return and haunt an estate adjoining the main property, now controlled by his son. The son hears of these visits, flogs the _vilicus_ for connivance, and compels him to exclude the old man. The piece is one of which only a brief abstract remains, but there is enough to shew that, while the gist of it was a casuistic discussion of a moral problem, it assumes as a matter of course the liability of a trusted slave to the lash. The faithful and kindly slave is contrasted with the unnatural son. There are in these curious collections other utterances indicative of the spread of humanitarian notions. Thus in the piece first cited[928] above, the poor man’s son in refusing the rich man’s offer of adoption, as a situation to which he could never accommodate himself, is made to add ‘If you were selling a favourite slave, you would inquire whether the buyer was a cruel man.’ Such ideas come from the later Greek philosophies, chiefly Stoic, the system on which Seneca brought up his more famous son. In one place[929] we find an echo of an earlier Greek sentiment, when a rhetorician propounds the doctrine that Fortune only, not Nature, distinguishes freemen from slaves. Indeed it is evident, from the many passages that touch on slavery and expose some of its worst horrors, that the subject was at this time beginning to attract more general attention than heretofore. And the relations of patron and freedman, also discussed in these artificial school-debates, are a further illustration of this tendency. Milder and more humane principles were germinating, though as yet they had not found expression in law. In arguing on a peculiarly revolting case (the deliberate mutilation of child-beggars) a speaker incidentally refers[930] to wealthy landowners recruiting their slave-gangs by seizing freemen. The hearers are supposed to receive this reference to kidnapping as no exceptional thing extravagantly suggested. We have seen that both Augustus and Tiberius had to intervene to put down this _suppressio_. One little note of interest deserves passing mention. In a discussion on unequal marriages the question is raised whether even the very highest desert on a slave’s part could justify a father in taking him as a son-in-law. A speaker cites the case[931] of Old Cato, who married the daughter of his own _colonus_. Here we clearly have the tenant farmer in the second century BC In Plutarch the man appears as a client. Neither writer makes him a freedman in so many words. But it is probably the underlying fact. That the daughter was _ingenua_ does not rule out this supposition. =Velleius= and =Valerius Maximus= also belong to the reign of Tiberius. The former in what remains of his history supplies nothing to my purpose. Valerius made a collection of anecdotes from Roman and foreign histories illustrating various virtues and vices, classifying the examples of good and bad action under heads. They are ‘lifted’ from the works of earlier writers: many are taken from Livy, already used as a classic quarry. The book is pervaded by tiresome moralizing, and points of interest are few. There is the story of the farm[932] of Regulus, of the patriotic refusal[933] of M’ Curius to take more than the normal seven _iugera_ of land as a reward from the state, of the horny-handed rustic voter[934] being asked whether he walked on his hands; also reference to the simple habits of the famous Catos, and a passing remark that the men of old had few slaves. Those of the above passages that are of any value at all have been noticed in earlier sections. The freedman =Phaedrus= gives us next to nothing in his fables, unless we care to note the items[935] of a farm-property, _agellos pecora villam operarios boves iumenta et instrumentum rusticum_, and a fable specially illustrating the fact that a master’s eye sees what escapes the notice of the slave-staff, even of the _vilicus_. XXXI. SENECA THE YOUNGER. The chief literary figure of the reigns of Claudius and Nero was =L Annaeus Seneca=, a son of the rhetorician above referred to, and like his father born in Spain. His life extended from 4 BC to 65 AD. For the purpose of the present inquiry his surviving works are mainly of interest as giving us in unmistakeable tones the point of view from which a man of Stoic principles regarded slavery as a social institution. The society of imperial Rome, in which he spent most of his life, was politically dead. To meddle with public affairs was dangerous. Even a senator needed to walk warily, for activity was liable to be misinterpreted by the Emperor and by his powerful freedmen[936], who were in effect Imperial Ministers. To keep on good terms with these departmental magnates, who had sprung from the slave-market to be courted as the virtual rulers of freeborn Roman citizens, was necessary for all men of note. Under such conditions it is not wonderful that the wealthy were tempted to assert themselves in ostentatious luxury and dissipation: for a life of careless debauchery was on the face of it hardly compatible with treasonable conspiracy. The immense slave-households of Rome were a part and an expression of this extravagance; and the fashion of these domestic armies was perhaps at its height in this period. Now, nothing kept the richer Romans in subjection more efficiently than this habit of living constantly exposed to the eyes and ears of their menials. Cruel laws might protect the master from assassination by presuming[937] the guilt of all slaves who might have prevented it. They could not protect him from the danger of criminal charges, such as treason[938], supported by servile evidence: indeed the slave was a potential informer, and a hated master was at the mercy of his slaves. Under some Emperors this possibility was a grim reality, and no higher or more heartfelt praise could be bestowed[939] on an Emperor than that he refused to allow masters to be done to death by the tongue of their slaves. Meanwhile the slave was still legally[940] his (or her) master’s chattel, and cases of revolting cruelty[941] and other abominations occurred from time to time. Yet more humane and sympathetic views were already affecting public sentiment, chiefly owing to the spread of Stoic doctrines among the cultivated classes. Of these doctrines as adapted to Roman minds Seneca was the leading preacher. Thus he cites the definition of ‘slave’ as ‘wage-earner for life,’ propounded[942] by Chrysippus: he insists on the human quality common to slave and free alike: he reasserts the equality of human rights, only upset by Fortune, who has made one man master of another: he sees that the vices of slaves are very often simply the result of the misgovernment of their owners: he reckons them as humble members[943] of the family circle, perhaps even the former playmates of boyhood: he recommends a kindly consideration for a slave’s feelings, and admits[944] that some sensitive natures would prefer a flogging to a box on the ear or a harsh and contemptuous scolding. We need not follow up his doctrines in more detail. The general tone is evident and significant enough. But it is the relations of the domestic circle that he has primarily in view. His references to agriculture and rustic labour are few, as we might expect from the circumstances of his life. But we are in a better position to judge their value having considered his attitude towards slavery in general. It should be noted, as a specimen of his tendency to Romanize Greek doctrine, that he lays great stress on the more wholesome relations[945] of master and slave in the good old times of early Rome,—here too without special reference to the rustic households of the rude forefathers round which tradition centred. Judged by a modern standard, a defect in Stoic principles was the philosophic aloofness from the common interests and occupations of ordinary workaday life. To the Wise Man all things save Virtue are more or less indifferent, and in the practice of professions and trades there is little or no direct connexion with Virtue. Contempt for manual labour, normal in the ancient world and indeed in all slaveowning societies, took a loftier position under the influence of Stoicism. Hence that system, in spite of its harsh and tiresome features, appealed to many of the better Romans of the upper class, seeming as it did to justify their habitual disdain. Seneca’s attitude towards handicrafts is much the same as Cicero’s, only with a touch of Stoic priggishness added. Wisdom, he says[946], is not a mere handworker (_opifex_) turning out appliances for necessary uses. Her function is more important: her craft is the art of living, and over other arts she is supreme. The quality of an artist’s action[947] depends on his motive: the sculptor may make a statue for money or to win fame or as a pious offering. Arts, as Posidonius[948] said, range from the ‘liberal’ ones to the ‘common and mean’ ones practised by handworkers: the latter have no pretence of moral dignity. Indeed many of these trades are quite unnecessary, the outcome of modern[949] extravagance. We could do without them, and be all the better for it: man’s real needs are small. But to work for a living is not in itself a degradation: did not the Stoic master Cleanthes draw water[950] for hire? In short, the Wise Man may be a king or a slave, millionaire or pauper. The externals cannot change his true quality, though they may be a help or a hindrance in his growth to perfect wisdom. In his references to agriculture and country matters it is to be remarked that Seneca confirms the impression derived from other sources, that the letting of land to tenant farmers was on the increase. Discoursing on the greedy luxury of the rich, their monstrous kitchens and cellars, and the toiling of many to gratify the desires of one, he continues ‘Look at all the places where the earth is being tilled, and at all the thousands[951] of farmers (_colonorum_) ploughing and digging; is this, think you, to be reckoned one man’s belly, for whose service crops are being raised in Sicily and in Africa too?’ The _coloni_ here mentioned may be merely ‘cultivators’ in a general sense. But I think they are more probably tenants of holdings on great estates. In speaking of his arrival at his Alban villa, and finding nothing ready for a meal, he philosophically refuses to let so small an inconvenience make him angry with his cook and his baker. ‘My baker[952] has got no bread; but the steward has some, and so have the porter and the farmer.’ A coarse sort of bread, no doubt, but you have only got to wait, and you will enjoy it when you are really hungry. Here we seem to have an instance of what was now probably an ordinary arrangement: the _villa_, homestead with some land round it, kept as a country ‘box’ for the master by his steward, who would see to the garden and other appurtenances, while the rest of the land is let to a humble tenant farmer. In another passage we have an interesting glimpse of a tenant’s legal position[953] as against his landlord. ‘If a landlord tramples down growing crops or cuts down plantations, he cannot keep his tenant, though the lease may be still in being: this is not because he has recovered what was due to him as lessor, but because he has made it impossible for him to recover it. Even so it often happens that a creditor is cast in damages to his debtor, when he has on other grounds taken from him more than the amount of the debt claimed.’ I gather from this passage that damage done by the lessor to the lessee’s interest in the farm deprived him of right of action against the lessee, in case he wanted to enforce some claim (for rent or for some special service) under the terms of the existing contract[954] of lease. If this inference be just, the evidence is important. For the _colonus_ is conceived as a humble person, whose interest a brutal inconsiderate landlord would be not unlikely to disregard, and to whom a resort to litigation would seem a course to be if possible avoided. To this question of the rights of landlord and tenant Seneca returns later, when engaged in reconciling the Stoic thesis that ‘all things belong to the Wise Man’ with the facts of actual life. The Wise Man is in the position of a King to whom belongs the general right of sovranty (_imperium_) while his subjects have the particular right of ownership (_dominium_). Illustrating the point he proceeds[955] thus. ‘Say I have hired a house from you. Of its contents some belong to you and some to me. The thing (_res_) is your property, but the right of user (_usus_) of your property is mine. Just so you must not meddle with crops, though grown on your own estate, if your tenant forbids it; and in a season of dearness or dearth you will be like the man in Vergil wistfully gazing at another’s plenteous store, though the land where it grew, the yard where it is stacked, and the granary it is meant to fill, are all your own property. Nor, when I have hired a lodging, have you a right to enter it, owner though you be: when a slave of yours is hired for service by me, you have no right to withdraw him: and, if I hire a trap from you and give you a lift, it will be a good turn on my part, though the conveyance belongs to you.’ I have quoted this at some length, in order to make the farm-tenant’s position quite clear. His rights are presumed to be easily ascertainable, and his assertion of them will be protected by the law. His contract, whether a formal lease or not, is also presumed to guarantee him complete control of the subject for the agreed term. Whether encroachments by landlords and legal proceedings for redress by tenants were common events in rural Italy, Seneca need not and does not say. I suspect that personal interest on both sides was in practice a more effective restraint than appeals to law. There are other references to agricultural conditions, which though of less importance are interesting as confirming other evidence as to the _latifundia_ of this period. A good specimen is found in his denunciation of human greed as the cause of poverty, by bringing to an end the happy age of primitive communism, when all shared the ownership of all. Cramped and unsatisfied, this _avaritia_ can never find the way back to the old state of plenty and happiness. ‘Hence, though she now endeavour to make good[956] what she has wasted; though she add field to field by buying out her neighbours or wrongfully ejecting them; though she expand her country estates on the scale of provinces, and enjoy the sense of landlordism in the power of touring mile after mile without leaving her own domains; still no enlargement of bounds will bring us back to the point from whence we started.’ Again, in protesting against the luxurious ostentation of travellers and others, he shews that they are really in debt. ‘So-and-so is, you fancy, a rich man ... because he has arable estates[957] in all provinces of the empire ... because his holding of land near Rome is on a scale one would grudge him even in the wilds of Apulia.’ Such a man is in debt to Fortune. In these as in other passages the preacher illustrates his sermon by references calculated to bring home his points. Naturally he selects for the purpose matters familiar to his audience; and it is this alone that makes the passages worth quoting. The same may be said of his sympathetic reference[958] to the hard lot of a slave transferred from the easy duties of urban service to the severe toil of farm labour. In general it may be remarked that the evidence of Seneca and other literary men of this period is to be taken in connexion with the treatise of Columella, who is the contemporary specialist on agriculture. The prevalence of slave labour and the growth of the tenant-farmer class are attested by both lines of evidence. XXXII. LUCAN, PETRONIUS, AND OTHERS. =Lucan=, Seneca’s nephew, has a few interesting references in his poem on the great civil war. Thus, in the eloquent passage[959] lamenting the decay of Roman vital strength, a long process to be disastrously completed in the great Pharsalian battle, he dwells on the shrinkage of free Roman population in Italy. The towns and the countryside alike are empty, houses deserted, and it is by the labour of chained[960] slaves that Italian crops are raised. Elsewhere[961] he looks further back, and traces this decay to the effect of luxury and corruption caused by the influx of vast wealth, the spoils of Roman conquests. Among the symptoms of disease he notes the _latifundia_, which it was now becoming the fashion to denounce, the land-grabbing passion that prompted men to monopolize great tracts of land and incorporate in huge estates, worked by cultivators unknown[962] to them, farms that once had been ploughed and hoed by the rustic heroes of old. But all such utterances are merely a part of a declaimer’s stock-in-trade. We may fairly guess that they are echoes of talk heard in the literary circle of his uncle Seneca. That they are nevertheless consistent with the land-system of this period, is to be gathered from other sources, such as Petronius and Columella. It remains to note that the word _colonus_ is used by Lucan in the senses of ‘cultivator’ and ‘farmer,’ rather suggesting ownership, and of ‘military colonist,’ clearly implying it. That of ‘tenant’ does not occur: there was no need for it in the poem. Again, he has _servire servilis_ and _servitium_, but _servus_ occurs only in a suspected[963] line, and as an adjective. His regular word for ‘slave’ is _famulus_. The bucolic poems of this period are too manifestly artificial to serve as evidence of value. For instance, when =Calpurnius= declares[964] that in this blessed age of peace and prosperity the _fossor_ is not afraid to profit by the treasure he may chance to dig up, we cannot infer that a free digger is meant, though it is hardly likely that a slave would be suffered to keep treasure-trove. =Petronius=, in the curious mixed prose-verse satire of which part has come down to us, naturally says very little bearing directly on agriculture. But in depicting the vulgar freedman-millionaire Trimalchio he refers pointedly to the vast landed estates belonging to this typical figure of the period. He owns estates ‘far as the kites[965] can fly.’ This impression is confirmed in detail by a report delivered by the agent for his properties. It is a statement[966] of the occurrences in a domain of almost imperial proportions during a single day. So many children, male and female, were born: so many thousand bushels of wheat were stocked in the granary: so many hundred oxen broken in: a slave was crucified for disloyalty to his lord: so many million sesterces were paid in to the chest, no opening for investment presenting itself. On one park-estate (_hortis_) there was a great fire, which began in the steward’s house. Trimalchio cannot recall the purchase of this estate, which on inquiry turns out to be a recent acquisition not yet on the books. Then comes the reading of notices issued by officials[967] of the manors, of wills[968] made by rangers, of the names of his stewards; of a freedwoman’s divorce, the banishment of an _atriensis_, the committal of a cashier for trial, and the proceedings in court in an action between some chamberlains. Of course all this is not to be taken seriously, but we can form some notion of the state of things that the satirist has in mind. Too gross an exaggeration would have defeated his purpose. The book is full of passages bearing on the history of slavery, but it is domestic slavery, and that often of the most degrading character. XXXIII. COLUMELLA. The great interest taken in agriculture after the establishment of the Roman peace by Augustus is shewn by the continued appearance of works on the subject. The treatise of =Celsus=, who wrote in the time of Tiberius, was part of a great encyclopaedic work. It was probably one of the most important books of its kind: but it is lost, and we only know it as cited by other writers, such as Columella and the elder Pliny. It is from the treatise of =Columella=, composed probably under Nero, that we get most of our information as to Roman husbandry (_rusticatio_, as he often calls it) in the period of the earlier Empire. The writer was a native of Spain, deeply interested, like other Spanish Romans, in the past present and future of Italy. It is evident that in comparing the present with the past he could not avoid turning an uneasy eye to the future. Like others, he could see that agriculture, once the core of Roman strength, the nurse of a vigorous free population, was in a bad way. It was still the case that the choicest farm-lands of Italy were largely occupied by mansions and parks, the property of non-resident owners who seldom visited their estates, and hardly ever qualified themselves to superintend their management intelligently. The general result was hideous waste. In modern language, those who had command of capital took no pains to employ it in business-like farming: while the remaining free rustics lacked capital. Agriculture was likely to go from bad to worse under such conditions. The Empire would thus be weakened at its centre, and to a loyal Provincial, whose native land was part of a subject world grouped round that centre, the prospect might well seem bewildering. Columella was from the first interested in agriculture, on which his uncle[969] at Gades (Cadiz) was a recognized authority, and his treatise _de re rustica_ is his contribution to the service of Rome. The serious consequences of the decay of practical farming, and the disappearance of the small landowners tilling their own land, had long been recognized by thoughtful men. But the settlement of discharged soldiers on allotted holdings had not repopulated the countryside with free farmers. The old lamentations continued, but no means was found for solving the problem how to recreate a patient and prosperous yeoman class, firmly planted on the soil. Technical knowledge had gone on accumulating to some extent, though the authorities on agriculture, Greek Carthaginian or Roman, appealed to by Columella are mainly the same as those cited by Varro some eighty years before. The difficulty at both epochs was not the absence of knowledge but the neglect of its practical application. Columella, like his forerunners, insists on the folly[970] of buying more land than you can profitably manage. But it seems that the average wealthy landowner could not resist the temptation to round off[971] a growing estate by buying up more land when a favourable opportunity occurred. It is even hinted that ill-treatment[972] of a neighbour, to quicken the process by driving him to give up his land, was not obsolete. Moreover, great estates often consisted of separate holdings in different parts of the country. For owners of vast, and sometimes[973] scattered, estates to keep effective control over them was an occupation calling for qualities never too common, technical skill and indefatigable industry. The former could, if combined with perfect honesty, be found in an ideal deputy; but the deputy, to be under complete control, must be a slave: and, the more skilled the slave, the better able he was to conceal dishonesty. Therefore, the more knowledge and watchful attentiveness was needed in the master. Now it is just this genuine and painstaking interest in the management of their estates that Columella finds lacking in Roman landlords. They will not live[974] in the country, where they are quickly bored and miss the excitements of the city, and My Lady detests country life even more than My Lord. But they will not even take the trouble to procure good[975] Stewards, let alone watching them so as to keep them industrious and honest. Thus the management of estates has generally passed from masters to _vilici_, and the domestic part of the duties even more completely from house-mistresses to _vilicae_. As to the disastrous effect of the change upon rustic economy, the writer entertains no doubt. But the evil was no new phenomenon. It may well be that it was now more widespread than in Varro’s time; but in both writers we may perhaps suspect some degree of overstatement, to which reformers are apt to resort in depicting the abuses they are wishing to reform. I do not allow much for this consideration, for the picture, confirmed by general literary evidence, is in the main unquestionably true. So much for the case of estates administered by slave stewards for the account of their masters. But this was not the only way of dealing with landed properties. We have already noted the system of letting farms to cultivating tenants, and commented on the fewness of the references to it in literature. This plan may have been very ancient in origin, but it was probably an exceptional arrangement even in the time of Cicero. The very slight notice of it by Varro indicates that it was not normal, indeed not even common. In Columella we find a remarkable change. In setting out the main principles[976] of estate management, and insisting on the prime importance of the owner’s attention (_cura domini_), he adds that this is necessary above all things in relation to the persons concerned (_in hominibus_). Now the _homines_ are _coloni_ or _servi_, and are unchained or chained. After this division and subdivision he goes on to discuss briefly but thoroughly the proper relations between landlord and tenant-farmer, the care needed in the selection of satisfactory tenants, and the considerations that must guide a landlord in deciding whether to let a piece of land to a tenant or to farm it for his own account. He advises him to be obliging and easy in his dealings with tenants, and more insistent in requiring their work or service (_opus_)[977] than their rent (_pensiones_): this plan is less irritating, and after all it pays better in the long run. For, barring risks of storms or brigands, good farming nearly always leaves a profit, so that the tenant has not the face to claim[978] a reduction of rent. A landlord should not be a stickler for trifles or mean in the matter of little perquisites, such as cutting firewood, worrying his tenant unprofitably. But, while waiving the full rigour of the law, he should not omit to claim his dues in order to keep alive his rights: wholesale remission is a mistake. It was well said by a great landowner that the greatest blessing for an estate is when the tenants are natives[979] of the place, a sort of hereditary occupiers, attached to it by the associations of their childhood’s home. Columella agrees that frequent changes of tenant are a bad business. But there is a worse; namely the town-bred[980] tenant, who prefers farming with a slave staff to turning farmer himself. It was a saying of Saserna, that out of a fellow of this sort you generally get not your rent but a lawsuit. His advice then was, take pains to get country-bred farmers[981] and keep them in permanent tenancy: that is, when you are not free to farm your own land, or when it does not suit your interest to farm it with a slave staff. This last condition, says Columella, only refers to the case of lands derelict[982] through malaria or barren soil. There are however farms on which it is the landlord’s own interest to place tenants rather than work them by slaves for his own account. Such are distant holdings, too out-of-the-way for the proprietor to visit them easily. Slaves out of reach of constant inspection will play havoc with any farm, particularly one on which corn is grown. They let out the oxen for hire, neglect the proper feeding of live stock, shirk the thorough turning of the earth, and in sowing tending harvesting and threshing the crop they waste and cheat you to any extent. No wonder the farm gets a bad name thanks to your steward and staff. If you do not see your way to attend in person to an estate of this kind, you had better let it to a tenant. From these remarks it seems clear that the writer looks upon letting land to tenant farmers as no more than an unwelcome alternative, to be adopted only in the case of farms bad in quality or out of easy reach. Indeed he says frankly that, given fair average conditions, the owner can always get better returns by managing a farm himself than by letting it to a tenant: he may even do better by leaving the charge to a steward, unless of course that steward happens to be an utterly careless or thievish fellow. Taking this in connexion with his remarks about stewards elsewhere, the net result seems to be that a landlord must choose in any given case what he judges to be the less of two evils. 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. The distinction between the slaves who are chained and those who are not appears the more striking from Columella’s references to the lock-up chamber or slave-prison. His predecessors pass lightly over this matter, but he gives it the fullest recognition. The _ergastulum_ should be a chamber[1033] below ground level, as healthy as you can get, lighted by a number of slits in the wall so high above the floor as to be out of a man’s reach. This dungeon is only for the refractory slaves, chained and constantly inspected. For the more submissive ones cabins (_cellae_) are provided in healthy spots near their work but not so scattered as to make observation difficult. There is even a bath house[1034], which the staff are allowed to use on holidays only: much bathing is weakening. Whether on an average farm the chained or unchained slaves are assumed to be the majority is not quite clear; probably the unchained, to judge by the general tone of the precepts. But that a lock-up is part of the normal establishment is clear enough. And it is to be noted that in one passage[1035] _ergastula_ are mentioned in ill-omened juxtaposition with citizens enslaved by their creditors. Whether it is implied that unhappy debtors were still liable to be locked up as slaves in creditors’ dungeons as of old, is not easy to say. Columella is capable of rhetorical flourishes now and then. It is safer to suppose that he is referring to two forms of slave-labour; first, the working off arrears of debt[1036] by labour of a servile kind; second, the wholesale slave-gang system suggested by the significant word _ergastula_. Or are we to read into it a reference to the kidnapping[1037] of wayfarers which Augustus and Tiberius had striven to put down? Before we leave the subject of the slave-staff it is well to note that no prospect of freedom is held out, at least to the males. Fertility, as we have seen, might lead to manumission of females. But we are not told what use they were likely to make of their freedom, when they had got it. My belief is that they stayed on the estate as tolerated humble dependants; for they would have no other home. Some were natives of the place, and the imported ones would have lost all touch with their native lands. Perhaps the care of poultry[1038] is a specimen of the various minor functions in which they could make themselves useful. At all events they were free from fetters and the lash. And the men too may have been occasionally manumitted on the same sort of terms. Silence does not prove a negative. For instance, we hear of _peculium_, the slave’s quasi-property, only incidentally[1039] as being derived from _pecus_. Yet we are not entitled to say that slaves were not free to make savings under the system of Columella. Though the _vilicus_ appears in this treatise as the normal head of the management, there are signs that this was not the last word in estate-organization. That he is sometimes[1040] referred to as being the landlord’s agent (_actor_), but usually not, rather suggests that he could be, and often was, confined to a more restricted sphere of duty, namely the purely agricultural superintendence of the farm in hand. This would make him a mere farm-bailiff, directing operations on the land, but with little or no responsibility for such matters as finance. And in a few passages we have mention of a _procurator_. This term must be taken in its ordinary sense[1041] as signifying the landlord’s ‘attorney’ or full legal representative. He is to keep an eye on the management, for instance[1042] the threshing-floor, if the master is not at hand. The position of his quarters indicates his importance: as the steward’s lodging is to be where he can watch goings-out and comings-in, so that of the _procurator_ is to be where[1043] he can have a near view of the steward as well as doings in general. Judging from the common practice of the day, it is probable that he would be a freedman. Now, why does Columella, after referring to him thus early in the treatise, proceed to ignore him afterwards? The only reasonable explanation that occurs to me is that the appointment of such an official would only be necessary in exceptional cases: in short, that in speaking of a _procurator_ he implies an unexpressed reservation ‘supposing such a person to be employed.’ Circumstances that might lead to such an appointment are not far to seek. The landlord might be abroad for a long time on public duty or private business. There might be large transactions pending (purchases, sales, litigation, etc) in connexion with the estate or neighbourhood; in the case of a very large estate this was not unlikely. The estate might be one of several owned by the same lord, and the _procurator_ intermittently resident on one or other as from time to time required. Or lastly the services of an agent with full legal powers may have been desirable in dealing with free tenantry. If a landlord had a number of tenant farmers on his estates, it is most unlikely that his _vilici_, slaves as they were, would be able to keep a firm hand[1044] on them: and the fact of his letting his farms surely suggests that he would not desire to have much rent-collecting or exaction of services to do himself. One point in which Columella’s system seems to record a change from earlier usage may be found in the comparative disuse of letting out special jobs to contractors. In one passage[1045], when discussing the trenching-work required in _pastinatio_, and devices for preventing the disputes arising from bad execution of the same, he refers to _conductor_ as well as _dominus_. The interests of the two are liable to clash, and he tries to shew a means of ensuring a fair settlement between the parties without going to law. I understand the _conductor_ to be a man who has contracted for the job at an agreed price, and _exactor operis_ just below to be the landlord, whose business it is to get full value for his money. Thus _conductor_ here will be the same as the _redemptor_ so often employed in the scheme of Cato. I cannot find further traces of him in Columella. Nor is the sale of a hanging[1046] crop or a season’s lambs to a speculator referred to. But we have other authority for believing that contracts of this kind were not obsolete, and it is probable that the same is true of contracts for special operations. That such arrangements were nevertheless much rarer than in Cato’s time seems to be a fair inference. The manifest reluctance[1047] to hire external labour also points to the desire of getting, so far as possible, all farming operations performed by the actual farm-staff. If I have rightly judged the position of tenant farmers, it is evident that their stipulated services would be an important help in enabling the landlord to dispense with employment of contractors’ gangs on the farm. This was in itself desirable: that the presence of outsiders was unsettling to your own slaves had long been remarked, and in the more elaborate organization of Columella’s day disturbing influences would be more apprehensively regarded than ever. It is hardly necessary to follow out all the details of this complicated system and enumerate the various special functions assigned to the members of the staff. To get good foremen even at high prices was one of the leading principles: an instance[1048] is seen in the case of vineyards, where we hear of a thoroughly competent _vinitor_, whose price is reckoned at about £80 of our money, the estimated value of about 4½ acres of land. The main point is that it is a system of slave labour on a large scale, and that Columella, well aware that such labour is in general wasteful, endeavours to make it remunerative by strict order and discipline. He knows very well that current lamentations over the supposed exhaustion[1049] of the earth’s fertility are mere evasions of the true causes of rural decay, neglect and ignorance. He knows that intensive cultivation[1050] pays well, and cites striking instances. But the public for whom he writes is evidently not the men on small holdings, largely market-gardeners[1051], who were able to make a living with or without slave-help, at all events when within reach of urban markets. He addresses men of wealth, most of whom were proud of their position as landlords, but presumably not unwilling to make their estates more remunerative, provided the effort did not give them too much trouble. This condition was the real difficulty; and it is hard to believe that Columella, when insisting on the frequent presence of the master’s eye, was sanguine enough to expect a general response. His attitude towards pastoral industry seems decidedly less enthusiastic than that of his predecessors. Stock[1052] must be kept on the farm, partly to eat off your own fodder-crops, but chiefly for the sake of supplying manure for the arable land. In quoting Cato’s famous saying on the profitableness of grazing, he agrees that nothing pays so quickly as good grazing, and that moderately good grazing pays well enough. But if, as some versions have it, he really said that even bad grazing was the next best thing for a farmer, Columella respectfully dissents. The breeding and fattening of all manner of animals for luxurious tables[1053] remains much the same as in the treatise of Varro. A curious caution is given[1054] in discussing the fattening of thrushes. They are to be fed with ‘dried figs beaten up with fine meal, as much as they can eat or more. Some people chew the figs before giving them to the birds. But it is hardly worth while to do this if you have a large number to feed, for it costs money to hire[1055] persons to do the chewing, and the sweet taste makes them swallow a good deal themselves.’ Now, why hire labour for such a purpose? Is it because slaves would swallow so much of the sweet stuff that your thrushes would never fatten? It is well known that importation of corn from abroad led to great changes in Italian agriculture in the second century BC. The first was the formation of great estates worked by slave-gangs, which seems to have begun as an attempt to compete with foreign large-scale farming in the general production of food-stuffs. If so, it was gradually discovered that it did not pay to grow cereal crops for the market, unscrupulous in slave-driving though the master might be. Therefore attention was turned to the development on a larger scale of the existing culture of the vine and olive and the keeping of great flocks and herds. Food for these last had to be found on the farm in the winter, and more and more it became usual only to grow cereals as fodder for the stock, of course including the slaves. No doubt there was a demand for the better sorts, such as wheat, in all the country towns, but the farms in their immediate neighbourhood would supply the need. That Columella assumes produce of this kind to be normally consumed on the place, is indicated by his recommending[1056] barley as good food for all live-stock, and for slaves when mixed with wheat. Also by his treating the delicate[1057] white wheat, much fancied in Rome, as a degenerate variety, not worth the growing by a practical farmer. His instructions for storage shew the same point of view. The structure and principles of granaries[1058] are discussed at length, and the possibility of long storage[1059] is contemplated. The difficulties of transport by land had certainly been an important influence in the changes of Roman husbandry, telling against movements of bulky produce. Hence the value attached[1060] to situations near the seaboard or a navigable stream (the latter not a condition often to be realized in Italy) by Columella and his predecessors. Military roads served the traveller as well as the armies, but took no regard[1061] of agricultural needs. Moreover they had special[1062] drawbacks. Wayfarers had a knack of pilfering from farms on the route, and someone or other was always turning up to seek lodging and entertainment. Thus it was wise not to plant your villa close to one of these trunk roads, or your pocket was likely to suffer. But to have a decent approach[1063] by a country road was a great convenience, facilitating the landlord’s periodical visits and the carriage of goods to and from the estate. Certain words call for brief notice. Thus _opera_, the average day’s work of an average worker, is Columella’s regular labour-unit in terms of which he expresses the labour-cost[1064] of an undertaking. In no other writer is this more marked. Occasionally _operae_ occurs in the well-known concrete sense[1065] of the ‘hands’ themselves. The _magistri_ mentioned are not always the foremen spoken of above, but sometimes[1066] directors or teachers in a general sense or even as a sort of synonym for _professores_. To recur once again to _colonus_, the word, as in other writers, often means simply ‘cultivator,’ not ‘tenant-farmer.’ The latter special sense occurs in a passage[1067] which would be useful evidence for the history of farm-tenancies, if it were not doubtful whether the text is sound. There remains a question, much more than a merely literary problem, as to the true relation of Columella to Vergil. That he constantly quotes the poet, and cites him as an authority on agriculture, is a striking fact. One instance will shew the deep veneration with which he regards the great master. In speaking[1068] of the attention to local qualities of climate and soil needed in choosing an estate, he quotes lines from the first _Georgic_, the matter of which is quite traditional, common property. But he speaks of Vergil (to name the poet[1069] was unnecessary) as a most realistic[1070] bard, to be trusted as an oracle. Nay, so irresistible is to him the influence of Vergil, that he must needs cast his own tenth book into hexameter verse: the subject of that book is gardens, a topic on which Vergil had confessedly[1071] not fully said his say. And yet in the treatment of the land-question there is a fundamental difference between the two writers. Columella’s system is based on slave labour organized to ensure the completest efficiency: Vergil practically ignores slavery altogether. Columella advises you to let land to tenant farmers whenever you cannot effectively superintend the working of slave-organizations under stewards: Vergil ignores this solution also, and seems vaguely to contemplate a return to the system of small farms owned and worked by free yeomen in an idealized past. Columella is concerned to see that capital invested in land is so employed as to bring in a good economic return: Vergil dreams of the revival of a failing race, and possible economic success and rustic wellbeing are to him not so much ends as means. The contrast is striking enough. In the chapter on Vergil I have already pointed out that the poet had at once captured the adoration of the Roman world. It was not only in quotations or allusions, or in the incense of praise, that his supremacy was held in evidence so long as Latin literature remained alive. His influence affected prose style also, and subtle reminiscences of Vergilian flavour maybe traced in Tacitus. But all this is very different from the practice of citing him as an authority on a special subject, as Columella did and the elder Pliny did after him. I would venture to connect this practice with the Roman habit of viewing their own literature as inspired by Greek models and so tending to move on parallel lines. Cicero was not content to be a Roman Demosthenes; he must needs try to be a Roman Plato too, if not also a Roman Aristotle. Now citation of the Homeric poems as a recognized authority on all manner of subjects, not to mention casual illustrations, runs through Greek literature. Plato and Aristotle are good instances. It is surely not surprising that we find Roman writers patriotically willing to cite their own great poet, more especially as the _Georgics_ lay ready to hand. In the next generation after Columella, Quintilian framed his criticism[1072] of the two literatures (as food for oratorical students) on frankly parallel lines. Vergil is the pair to Homer: second to the prince of singers, but a good second: and he is quoted and cited throughout the treatise as Homer is in Aristotle’s _Rhetoric_. True, the cases are not really parallel. Whatever preexistent material may have served to build up the Homeric poems, they are at least not didactic poems, made up of precepts largely derived from technical writers, and refined into poetic form with mature and laborious skill. To quote the _Georgics_, not only for personal observation of facts but for guiding precepts, is often to quote a secondary authority in a noble dress, and serves but for adornment. But in such a consideration there would be nothing to discourage Roman literary men. To challenge Vergil’s authority on a rustic subject remained the prerogative of Seneca. Additional note to page 263 Varro _de lingua Latina_ VII § 105 says _liber qui suas operas in servitutem pro pecunia quadam debebat dum solveret nexus vocatur, ut ab aere obaeratus_. This antiquarian note is of interest as illustrating the meaning of _operae_, and the former position of the debtor as a temporary slave. AGE OF THE FLAVIAN AND ANTONINE EMPERORS XXXIV. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. It is not easy to find a satisfactory line of division between the period of the Flavian emperors and that of the adoptive series that came after them. The Plebeian Flavians had no family claim, through birth or adoption, to a preeminent position in the Roman world, and the rise of Vespasian to power was indeed a revolution. Henceforth, though outward forms and machinery remained, the real control of the empire rested with those supported directly or indirectly by the great armies. But the sound administrative policy set going by the common sense of Vespasian long maintained the imperial fabric in strength, and it is commonly held that from 69 to 180 AD was the Empire’s golden age. Nevertheless its vitality was already ebbing, and the calamities that beset it in the days of Marcus Aurelius found it unable to renew its vigour after holding in check its barbarian invaders. The Flavian-Antonine period must be treated as one, and from the point of view of the present inquiry certain significant facts must always be borne in mind. The Italian element in the armies was becoming less and less. Military policy consisted chiefly in defence of the frontiers, for the annexations of Trajan were not lasting, and they exhausted strength needed for defence. It was an ominous sign that the Roman power of assimilation was failing. Mixed armies of imperfectly Romanized soldiery, whether as conquerors or as settlers, could not spread Roman civilization in the same thorough way as it had become at length established in Spain or southern Gaul. To spread it extensively and not intensively meant a weakening of Roman grasp; and at some points[1073] it seems as if the influx of barbarism was felt to be a menace in time of peace, not effectively counteracted by the peaceful penetration of Rome. Now, if the protection of Italy by chiefly alien swords was to relieve the imperial centre from the heavy blood-tax borne by it in the old days of Roman expansion, surely it remained an Italian function or duty to provide carriers[1074] of Roman civilization, that is, if border lands were to be solidly Romanized as a moral bulwark against barbarism. But this duty could only be performed by a healthy and vigorous Italy, and Italy[1075] was not healthy and vigorous. Internal security left the people free to go on in the same ways as they had now been following for generations, and those ways, as we have seen, did not tend to the revival of a free rural population. Country towns were not as yet in manifest decay, but there were now no imperial politics, and municipal politics, ever petty and self-regarding, offered no stimulus to arouse a larger and common interest. Municipalities looked for benefactors, and were still able to find them. In this period we meet with institutions of a charitable kind, some even promoted by the imperial government, for the benefit of orphans and children of the poor. This was a credit to the humanity of the age, but surely a palliative of social ailments, not a proof of sound condition. In Rome there was life, but it was cosmopolitan life. Rome was the capital of the Roman world, not of Italy. In the eyes of jealous patriots it seemed that what Rome herself needed was a thorough Romanizing. It was not from the great wicked city, thronged with adventurers[1076] of every sort, largely Oriental Greeks, and hordes of freedmen, that the better Roman influences could spread abroad. Nor were the old Provinces, such as Spain and southern Gaul, where Roman civilization had long been supreme, in a position to assimilate[1077] and Romanize the ruder border-lands by the Rhine and Danube. They had no energies to spare: moreover, they too depended on the central government, and the seat of that government was Rome. Italy alone could have vitalized the empire by moral influence, creating in the vast fabric a spiritual unity, and making a great machine into something more or less like a nation,—that is, if she had been qualified for acting such a part. But Italy had never been a nation herself. The result of the great Italian war of 90 and 89 BC had been to merge Italy in Rome, not Rome in Italy. Italians, now Romans, henceforth shared the exploitation of the subject countries and the hatred of oppressed peoples. But under the constitution of the Republic politics became more of a farce the more the franchise was extended, and the most obvious effect of Italian enfranchisement was to increase the number of those who directly or indirectly made a living out of provincial wrongs. The Provinces swarmed with bloodsuckers of every kind. The establishment of the Empire at length did something to relieve the sufferings of the Provinces. But it was found necessary to recognize Italy as a privileged imperial land. In modern times such privilege would take the form of political rights and responsibilities. But political life was dead, and privilege could only mean local liberties, exemption from burdens, and the like. And in the long run the maintenance or abolition of privilege would have to depend on the success or failure of the system. Now the emperors of the first two centuries of the Empire did their best to maintain the privileged position of Italy. But even in the time of Augustus it was already becoming clear that Romanized Italy depended on Rome and that Rome, so far as the Senate and Magistrates were concerned, could not provide for the efficient administration of Italy or even of Rome itself. Then began the long gradual process by which Italy, like the rest of the empire, passed more and more under the control of the imperial machine. In the period we are now considering this was steadily going on, for brief reactions, such as that under Nerva, did not really check it, and Italy was well on the way to become no more than a Province. The feature of this period most important in connexion with the present inquiry is the evidence[1078] that emperors were as a rule painfully conscious of Italian decay. Alive to the dangers involved in its continuance, they accepted the responsibility of doing what they could to arrest it. Their efforts took various forms, chiefly (_a_) the direct encouragement of farming (_b_) relief of poverty (_c_) measures for providing more rural population or preventing emigration of that still existing. It is evident that the aim was to place and keep more free rustics on the land. In the numerous allotments of land to discharged soldiers a number of odd pieces[1079] (_subsiciva_), not included in the lots assigned, were left over, and had been occupied by squatters. Vespasian, rigidly economical in the face of threatened state-bankruptcy, had the titles inquired into, and resumed and sold those pieces where no valid grant could be shewn. Either this was not fully carried out, or some squatters must have been allowed to hold on as ‘possessors,’ probably paying a quit-rent to the treasury. For Domitian[1080] found some such people still in occupation and converted their tenure into proprietorship, on the ground that long possession had established a prescriptive right. Nerva tried to go further[1081] by buying land and planting agricultural colonies: but little or nothing was really effected in his brief reign. In relief of poverty it was a notable extension to look beyond the city of Rome, where corn-doles had long existed, and continued to exist. The plan adopted was for the state to advance money at low rates of interest to landowners in municipal areas, and to let the interest received form a permanent endowment for the benefit of poor parents and orphans. We must remember that to have children born did not imply a legal obligation to rear them, and that the prospect of help from such funds was a distinct encouragement to do so. Whether any great results were achieved by this form of charity must remain doubtful: flattering assurances[1082] to Trajan on the point can no more be accepted without reserve than those addressed to Augustus on the success of his reforms, or to Domitian on his promotion of morality. But it seems certain that private charity was stimulated by imperial action, and that the total sums applied in this manner were very large. Begun by Nerva, carried out[1083] by Trajan, extended by Hadrian and Antoninus Pius, the control of these endowments was more centralized by Marcus. In his time great dearth in Italy had made distress more acute, and the hour was at hand when the inner disorders of the empire would cause all such permanent foundations to fail and disappear. They may well have relieved many individual cases of indigence, but we can hardly suppose their general effect on the Italian population to have been a healthy one. They must have tended to deaden enterprise and relax self-help, for they were too much after the pauperizing model long established in Rome. The provision of cheap loan-capital for landowners may or may not have been a boon in the long run. The increase of rustic population through excess of births over deaths could not be realized in a day, even if the measures taken to promote it were successful. So we find Trajan[1084] not only founding colonies in Italy but forbidding colonists to be drawn from Italy for settlement in the Provinces; a restriction said to have been[1085] disregarded by Marcus. But one important sequel of the frontier wars of Marcus, in which German mercenaries were employed, was the transplanting[1086] of large numbers of German captives into Italy. Such removals had occurred before, but seldom and on a small scale. This wholesale transplantation under Marcus made a precedent for many similar movements later on. It may be taken for granted that the emperor did not turn out Italians in order to find room for the new settlers. It is also probable that these were bound to military service. The great military colonies of later date, formed of whole tribes or nations settled near the frontiers, certainly held their lands on military tenure. Such was the system of frontier defence gradually forced upon Rome through the failure of native imperial forces sufficient for the purpose: and this failure was first conspicuous in Italy. Among the various measures taken by emperors to interest more persons in promoting Italian agriculture we may notice Trajan’s[1087] ordinance, that Provincials who aspired to become Roman Senators must shew themselves true children of Rome by investing one third of their property in Italian land. The order seems to have been operative, but the reduction[1088] of the fixed minimum proportion from ⅓ to ¼ by Marcus looks as if the first rule had been found too onerous. There is no reason to think that the state of rural Italy was materially bettered by these well-meant efforts. And the introduction of barbarian settlers, who had to be kept bound to the soil in order to be readily available when needed for military service, tended to give the rustic population a more and more stationary character. It was in fact becoming more usual to let farms to free _coloni_; but the _coloni_, though personally free, were losing freedom of movement. NOTE ON EMIGRATION FROM ITALY. In the _Journal of Roman Studies_ (vol VIII) I have discussed the question whether the emigration from Italy to the Provinces was to a serious extent agricultural in character, and in particular whether we can believe it to have carried abroad real working rustics in large numbers. Are we to see in it an important effective cause of the falling-off of the free rustic population of Italy? That the volume of emigration was large may be freely granted; also that settlements of discharged soldiers took place from time to time. Nor does it seem doubtful that many of the emigrants became possessors of farm-lands[1089] in the Provinces. But that such persons were working rustics, depending on their own labour, is by no means clear. And, if they were not, the fact of their holding land abroad does not bear directly on the decay of the working farmer class in Italy. That commerce and finance and exploitation in general were the main occupations of Italian[1090] emigrants, I do not think can be seriously doubted. And that many of them combined landholding with their other enterprises is probable enough. Professor Reid kindly reminds me that soldiers from Italy, whose term of service expired while they were still in a Province, were apt to settle down there in considerable numbers. The case of Carteia in Spain is well known, and that of Avido, also in Spain, was probably of the same nature. These were not regular Colonies. So too in Africa Marius seems to have left behind him communities of soldiers not regularly organized[1091] as _coloniae_. When the town of Uchi Maius received the title of _colonia_ from the emperor Severus, it called itself[1092] _colonia Mariana_, like the one founded by Marius in Corsica. And the same title appears in the case[1093] of Thibari. With these African settlements we may connect the law carried by Saturninus in 100 BC to provide the veterans of Marius with allotments of land in Africa, on the scale of 100 _iugera_ for each man. If this record[1094] is to be trusted (and the doubtful points cannot be discussed here), the natural inference is that farms of considerable size are meant, for the working of which no small amount of labour would be required. Nor is this surprising, for the soldiers of Marius were at the time masters of the situation, and not likely to be content with small grants. Whether the allotments proposed were in Africa or in Cisalpine Gaul[1095] is not quite certain. Marius seems to have left Africa in the winter of 105-4 BC. Since then he had been engaged in the war with the northern barbarians, and the lands recovered from the invaders were in question. Still, the proposal may have referred to Africa, for it is certain that the connexion of Marius with that Province was remembered[1096] long after. The important point is that the persons to be gratified were not civilian peasants but discharged veterans of the New Model army, professionalized by Marius himself. Neither the retired professional mercenaries of Greco-Macedonian armies, nor the military colonists of Sulla, give us reason to believe that such men would regard hard and monotonous labour with their own hands as a suitable reward for the toils and perils of their years of military service. Surely they looked forward to a life of comparative ease, with slaves to labour under their orders. If they kept their hold on their farms, they would become persons of some importance in their own provincial neighbourhood. Such were the _milites_ or _veterani_ whom we find often mentioned under the later Empire: and these too were evidently not labourers but landlords and directors. Therefore I hold that the class of men, many of them Italians by descent, whom we find holding land in various Provinces and living on the profits of the same, were mostly if not all either soldier-settlers or persons to whom landholding was one of several enterprises of exploitation. That the mere Italian peasant emigrated in such numbers as seriously to promote the falling-off of the free rustic population of Italy, is a thesis that I cannot consider as proved or probable. XXXV. MUSONIUS. In earlier chapters I have found it necessary to examine the views of philosophers on the subject of agriculture and agricultural labour, holding it important to note the attitude of great thinkers towards these matters. And indeed a good deal is to be gleaned from Plato and Aristotle. Free speculations on the nature of the State included not only strictly political inquiries, but social and economic also. But in the Macedonian period, when Greek states no longer enjoyed unrestricted freedom of movement and policy, a change came over philosophy. The tendency of the schools that now shewed most vital energy, such as the Epicurean and Stoic, was to concern themselves with the Individual rather than the State. The nature of Man, and his possibilities of happiness, became more and more engrossing topics. As the political conditions under which men had to live were now manifestly imposed by circumstances over which the ordinary citizen had no control, the happiness of the Individual could no longer be dependent on success in political ambitions and the free play of civic life. It had to be sought in himself, independent of circumstances. The result was that bold questioning and the search for truth ceased to be the prime function of philosophic schools, and the formation of character took the first place. Hence the elaboration of systems meant to regulate a man’s life by implanting in him a fixed conception of the world in which he had to live, and his relation to the great universe of which he and his immediate surroundings formed a part. And this implied a movement which may be roughly described as from questioning to dogma. The teacher became more of a preacher, his disciples more of a congregation of the faithful; and more and more the efficiency of his ministrations came to depend on his own personal influence, which we often call magnetism. When Greek literature and thought became firmly established in Rome during the second century BC, it was just this dogmatic treatment of moral questions that gave philosophy a hold on a people far more interested in conduct than in speculation. The Roman attempts, often clumsy enough, to translate principle into practice were, and continued to be, various in spirit and success. Stoicism in particular blended most readily with the harder and more virile types of Roman character, and found a peculiarly sympathetic reception among eminent lawyers. The reigns of the first emperors were not favourable to moral philosophy; but the accession of Nero set literature, and with it moralizing, in motion once more. A kind of eclectic Stoicism came into fashion, a Roman product, of which Seneca was the chief representative. A touch of timeserving was needed to adapt Greek theories for practical use in the world of imperial Rome. Seneca was both a courtier and a wealthy landowner, and was one of the victims of Nero’s tyranny. We have seen that while preaching Stoic doctrine, for instance on the relations of master and slave, he shews little interest in agriculture for its own sake or in the conditions of agricultural labour. It is interesting to contrast with his attitude that of another Stoic, a man of more uncompromising and consistent type, whose life was partly contemporaneous with that of Seneca, and who wrote only a few years later under the Flavian emperors. =Musonius[1097] Rufus=, already a teacher of repute in Nero’s time, seems to have kept himself clear of conspiracies and intrigues, recognizing the necessity of the monarchy and devoting himself to his profession of moral guide to young men. But any great reputation was dangerous in Nero’s later years, and a pretext was found for banishing the philosopher in 65. Under Galba he returned to Rome, still convinced of the efficacy of moral suasion, witnessed the bloody successions of emperors in 69, and risked his life in an ill-timed effort to stay the advance of Vespasian’s soldiery by discoursing on the blessings of peace. Vespasian seems to have allowed him to remain in Rome, and he is said to have been tutor to Titus. Yet he had not shrunk from bringing to justice an informer guilty of the judicial murder of a brother Stoic, and he was generally regarded as the noblest of Roman teachers, both in principles and in practice. He has been spoken of as a forerunner of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius. Evidently no timeserver, he seems to have made allowance for human needs and human weakness in the application of strict moral rules. It is a great pity that we have no complete authentic works of his surviving: but some of the reports by a pupil or pupils have come down to us. One of these extracts[1098] is so complete in itself, and so striking in its view of agriculture and agricultural labour, that I have translated it here. We are to bear in mind that the opinions expressed in it belong to a time when a small number of great landlords owned a large part (and that the most attractive) of Italy, and vast estates in the provinces as well. It is the luxurious and slave-ridden world of Petronius and Seneca that we must keep before us in considering the advice of Musonius; advice which we cannot simply ignore, however much we may see in this good man a voice crying in the wilderness. ‘There is also another resource[1099], nowise inferior to the above, one that might reasonably be deemed superior to it, at least for a man of strong body: I mean that derived from the land, whether the farmer owns it or not. For we see that there are many who, though cultivating land owned by the state[1100] or by other persons, are yet able to support not only themselves but wives and children; while there are some who by the devoted industry of their own hands[1101] attain to great abundance in this way of life. For the earth responds most fairly and justly to the care bestowed upon her, returning manifold what she receives and providing a plenty of all things necessary to life for him that will labour; and she does it consistently with a man’s self-respect and dignity. For nobody, other than an effeminate weakling, would describe any of the operations of husbandry as disgraceful or incompatible with manly excellence. Are not planting ploughing vine-dressing honourable works? And sowing reaping threshing, are not these all liberal pursuits, suited to good men? Nay, the shepherd’s life, if it did not degrade Hesiod or hinder him from winning divine favour and poetic renown, neither will it hinder others. For my part, I hold this to be the best of all the tasks comprised in husbandry, inasmuch as it affords the soul more leisure for pondering and investigating what concerns mental culture. For all tasks that bend the body and keep it fully on the strain do at the same time force the soul to give them its whole attention, or nearly so, sharing as it does the strain of the body: but all those that permit the body to escape excessive strain do not prevent the soul from reasoning out important questions and from improving its own wisdom by such reasonings, a result which is the special aim of every philosopher. This is why I set such special value on the art of shepherds. If however a man does[1102] combine tillage with philosophy, I hold no other life comparable with this, and no other means of livelihood preferable to it. Surely it is more according to nature to get your sustenance from Earth, our nurse and mother, than from some other source. Surely it is more manly[1103] to live on a farm than to sit idle in a city. Surely out-of-door pursuits are healthier than sheltered retirement. Which, pray, is the freeman’s choice, to meet his needs by receiving from others, or by contrivance of his own? Why, it is thought far more dignified to be able to satisfy your own requirements unaided than with aid of others. So true is it that to live by husbandry, of course with due respect[1104] to what is good and honourable, is beautiful and conducive to happiness and divine favour. Hence it was that the god (Delphic Apollo) proclaimed[1105] that Myson of Chenae was a wise man and greeted Aglaus of Psophis as a happy one; for these both led rustic lives, working with their own hands and not spending their time in cities. Surely then it is a worthy ambition to follow these men’s example and devote ourselves to husbandry in earnest. ‘Some may think it a monstrous notion that a man of educative power, qualified to lead youths on to philosophy, should till the soil and do bodily labour like a rustic. And, if it had been the fact that tilling the soil hinders the pursuit of philosophy or the lending help to others in that pursuit, the notion would have been monstrous indeed. But, as things are, if young men could see their teacher at work in the country, demonstrating in practice the principle to which reason guides us, namely that bodily toil and suffering are preferable to dependence on others for our food, I think it would be more helpful to them than attendance at his lectures in town. What is to hinder the pupil, while he works at his teacher’s side, from catching his utterances on self-control or justice or fortitude? For the right pursuit of philosophy is not promoted by much talking, and young men are under no necessity to learn off the mass of speculation on these topics, an accomplishment of which the Professors[1106] are so vain. For such discourses are indeed sufficient to use up a man’s lifetime: but it is possible to pick up the most indispensable and useful points even when one is engaged in the work of husbandry, especially as the work will not be unceasing but admits periods of rest. Now I am well aware that few will be willing to receive instruction by this method: but it is better that the majority of youths who profess the pursuit of philosophy should never attend a philosopher at all, I mean those unsound effeminate creatures whose presence at the classes is a stain upon the name of philosophy. For of those that have a genuine love of philosophy not one would be unwilling to spend his time with a good man on a farm, aye though that farm were one most difficult[1107] to work; seeing that he would reap great advantages from this employment. He would have the company of his teacher night and day; he would be removed from the evils of city life, which are a stumbling-block to the pursuit of philosophy; his conduct, good or bad, could not escape notice (and nothing benefits a pupil more than this); moreover, to be under the eye of a good man when eating and drinking and sleeping is a great benefit.’ At this point the writer digresses for a moment to quote some lines of Theognis and to interpret them in a sense favourable to his own views. He then continues ‘And let no one say that husbandry is a hindrance to learning or teaching. Surely it is not so, if we reflect that under these conditions the pupil enjoys most fully the company of his teacher while the teacher has the fullest control of his pupil. Such then being the state of the case, it is clear that of the philosopher’s resources none is more useful or more becoming than that drawn from husbandry.’ In this extract three points simply stand for principles dear to all sincere Stoics; (1) the duty and benefit of living ‘according to Nature,’ (2) the duty and benefit of self-sufficiency and not depending on the support of others, (3) the duty and satisfaction of continued self-improvement. Consistent practice on these lines would go far to produce the Stoic ideal, the Wise Man, happy and perfect in his assurance and dignity. But the attempt to combine all these in a ‘back to the land’ scheme of moral betterment has surely in it a marked personal note. It is the dream of a singular man in the surroundings of a rotten civilization; a civilization more rotten, and a dream more utopian, than the dreamer could possibly know. Aspirations towards a healthy outdoor life had been felt by many before Musonius. Admiration of rustic pursuits was no new thing, but it was generally freedom from worries, with the occasional diversions of the chase, that were attractive to the town-bred man. Ploughing and digging, and the responsible charge of flocks and herds, had long been almost entirely left to slaves, and Musonius is driven to confess that few youths of the class from which he drew pupils would be willing to undertake such occupations. It was useless to urge that bodily labour is not degrading: that it is exhausting, and engrosses the whole attention, he could not deny. He falls back on pastoral duties as light and allowing leisure for serious discourse. The suggestion seems unreal, though sincere, when we remember that Italian shepherds had to fight wolves and brigands. Moreover, the preference of grazing to tillage was in no small degree due to the fewer persons employed in it, and the stockmen were a notoriously rough class. Even the idealized shepherds of the bucolic poets exhibit a coarseness not congenial to conversation savouring of virtue. But to a Stoic preacher who could try to pacify a licentious soldiery the notion of using pastoral pursuits as a means to moral excellence may well have seemed a reasonable proposal. It is at least clear that the futility of philosophy as administered by lecturers in Rome had made a strong impression on Musonius. The fashionable company to whom the discourses were addressed, whether they for the moment shed some of their self-satisfaction or not, were seldom or never induced to remodel their worthless lives. So Musonius urges them to break away from solemn trifling and take to rustic labour. He probably chose this remedy as one specially Roman, following the tradition of the heroes of ancient Rome. But no artificial revival of this kind was possible, whatever his generous optimism might say. His contemporary the elder Pliny, who was content to glorify the vanished past and deplore the present, had a truer appreciation of the facts. Farm-work as a means of bringing personal influence to bear, treating body and mind together, a sort of ‘Wisdom while you dig,’ was in such a society a merely fantastic proposal. The importance of farming and food-production was a commonplace, but the vocation of Musonius was moralizing and character-production. There is no reason to think that he had any practical knowledge of agriculture. His austere life proves nothing of the kind. The only remark that shews acquaintance with conditions of landholding is his reference to the farmers who make a living on hired land. And this is in too general terms to have any historical value. XXXVI. PLINY THE ELDER. Among the writers of this period who refer to agricultural matters the most important is the =elder Pliny=, who contrived in a life of public service[1108] in various departments to amass a prodigious quantity of miscellaneous learning and to write many erudite works. His _naturalis historia_, an extraordinary compilation of encyclopaedic scope, contains numerous references to agriculture, particularly in the eighteenth book. He collected and repeated the gleanings from his omnivorous reading, and the result is more remarkable for variety and bulk than for choice and digestion. As a recorder he is helpful, preserving as he does a vast number of details, some not otherwise preserved, others of use in checking or supplementing other versions. Far removed as the book is from being a smooth and readable literary work, the moralizing rhetoric of the age shews its influence not only in the constant effort to wring a lesson of some kind out of the topic of the moment, but in the longer sermonizing passages that lead up to some subject on which the writer feels deeply. One of these[1109] occurs in introducing agriculture, and in pursuing the subject he loses no opportunity of contrasting a degenerate present with a better past. We need not take his lamentations at their full face-value, but that they were in the main justified is not open to doubt. It has been so often necessary to cite him in earlier chapters, that we shall not have to dwell upon him at great length here. The functions of compiler and antiquarian are apt to coincide very closely, and it is in his picture of the earlier conditions of Roman and Italian farming that Pliny’s evidence is most interesting. The old traditions[1110] of the simple and manly yeomen, each tilling his own little plot of ground, content with his seven _iugera_ of land or even with two in the earliest times, Cincinnatus and the rest of the farmer-heroes, to whom their native soil, proud of her noble sons, responded[1111] with a bounteous fertility that she denies to the heartless labour of slave-gangs on modern _latifundia_,—these are the topics on which he enlarges with a rhetorical or even poetic warmth. The ruin of Italy, nay of Provinces too, through the land-grabbing and formation of vast estates, is denounced[1112] in a classic passage. He sees no end to the process. Six landlords held between them half the Province of Africa in the time of Nero. Wanting money, the emperor put them to death for the sake of their property. He does not add, but doubtless reflected, that such measures only added to the resources controlled by a tyrant ruler, not a desirable object. We may add further that such iniquities inevitably disposed virtuous emperors to leave the land-monopolizers a free hand, perhaps unwillingly; but these gentry were not breaking the law by buying land, and an emperor conscious of the burden of administration, and desiring to carry on his work undisturbed by internal disloyalty, had strong reasons for not provoking wealthy capitalists. To conciliate them, and if possible to engage their cooperation in schemes designed for the public good according to the ideas of the time, was to proceed on the line of least resistance. Among the traditional precepts handed on by Pliny from Cato and others are many with which we are already familiar. Such is the rule of Regulus[1113], that in buying a farm regard must be had to the healthiness of the situation as well as to the richness of the soil. Another is the need of keeping a due proportion[1114] between farm-house and farm. Great men of the late Republic, Lucullus and Scaevola, erred on this point in opposite directions: Marius on the other hand laid out a _villa_ so skilfully that Sulla said ‘here was a man at last with eyes in his head.’ The value of the master’s eye is another old friend. We have also seen above that Mago’s[1115] advice, when you buy a farm, to sell your town house, was not a policy to be followed by Romans of quality, who felt it a duty not to cut themselves off from touch with public affairs. Another tradition is that of the sentiment of the olden time, holding it criminal[1116] to slay man’s fellow-worker, the ox. In referring to the technical skill required in a steward, a favourite topic of Cato, Pliny gives his own view[1117] briefly, ‘the master ought to set the greatest store by his steward, but the fellow should not be aware of it.’ The calculation of labour-cost[1118] in terms of _operae_, as with others, so with him, is a regular way of reckoning. And we meet once more the saying that, while good cultivation is necessary, too high farming does not pay. He illustrates this by an instance[1119] of comparatively modern date. A man of very humble origin, who rose through military merit to the consulship, was rewarded by Augustus with a large sum of money: this he spent on buying land[1120] in Picenum and fancy-farming. In this course he ran through his property, and his heir did not think it worth his while to claim the succession. The general tendency of all these precepts and anecdotes is to commend moderation and to rebuke the foolish ambition of land-proud capitalists of his own day. His praise of the ancient ways and regret for their disappearance do not suggest any hope of their revival. To Pliny as to others it was only too clear that legends of conquering consuls setting their own hands to the plough had no practical bearing on the conditions of the present age. Thoughtful men[1121] could not ignore the fact that the decline in production of cereal crops left Italy exposed to risk of famine. At any moment storms might wreck the corn-fleets from Egypt or Africa, and the strategic value of Egypt[1122] as a vital food-centre had been shewn quite recently in strengthening the cause of Vespasian. No wonder Pliny is uneasy, and looks back regretfully[1123] to the time when Italy was not fed by the Provinces, when thrifty citizens grew their own staple food-stuffs, and corn was plentiful and cheap. He quotes some prices from the time of the great Punic wars and earlier, which shew the remarkable cheapness of wine oil dried figs and flesh, as well as of various grains. This result was not due to great estates owned by individual landlords[1124] who elbowed out their neighbours, but to the willing work of noble citizens tilling their little holdings. To look for similar returns from the task-work of chained and branded slaves is a sheer libel on Mother Earth. That he treats at great length of agricultural details, not only of grain-crops in their various kinds, but fruits, vegetables, indeed everything he can think of, and all the processes of cultivation, is due to his encyclopaedic bent, and need not detain us here. When he tells us[1125] that vine-growing was a comparatively late development among the Romans, who long were content with grain-growing, it is a passing sigh over a vanished age of simple life. The meaning of words changes and records the change of things. When the Twelve Tables[1126] spoke of _hortus_, it was not a garden in the modern sense, a place of pleasure and luxury, that was meant, but a poor man’s small holding. By that venerable code it was made a criminal offence[1127] to cut or graze off under cover of night the crops raised on a man’s plough-land. A man whose farm was badly cultivated was disgraced by the censors. For, as Cato[1128] said, there is no life like the farmer’s for breeding sturdy men to make efficient soldiers and loyal citizens. The gist of these utterances, picked out of the mass, is that Pliny would like to see Italy able to provide for her own feeding and her own defence, but knows very well that no such ideal is within the range of hope. His interest in agriculture such as he saw it around him is shewn in recording recent or contemporary doings, such as that of the man mentioned above who squandered a fortune on ill-judged farming. A more successful venture[1129] was that of Remmius Palaemon, apparently in the time of Claudius. He was a freedman, not a farmer, but a school-master (_grammaticus_) of repute, a vainglorious fellow. He bought some land, not of the best quality and let down by bad farming. To farm this he engaged another freedman, one Acilius Sthenelus, who had the vineyards thoroughly overhauled (_pastinatis de integro_). Before eight years were out, he was able to sell a hanging crop for half as much again as it had cost him to buy the land, and within ten years he sold the land itself to Seneca (not a man for fancy prices) for four times as much as he had given for it. Truly a fine speculation. Sthenelus had carried out another of the same kind[1130] on his own account. We must note that both were in the vine-culture, not in corn-growing, and the appearance of freedmen, probably oriental Greeks, as leaders of agricultural enterprise in Italy. There is nothing to shew that these undertakings were on a large scale: the land in Sthenelus’ own case is stated as not more than 60 _iugera_. But no doubt he was, like many of his tribe, a keen man of business[1131] and not too proud or preoccupied to give close attention to the matter in hand. Such a man would get the utmost out of his slaves and check waste: he would keep a tight grip on a slave steward if (which we are not told) he found it necessary to employ one at all. For Pliny, as for most Romans, a profitable speculation had great charms. He cannot resist repeating the old Greek story[1132] of the sage who demonstrated his practical wisdom by making a ‘corner’ in olive-presses, foreseeing a ‘bumper’ crop. Only he turns it round, making it a ‘corner’ in oil, in view of a poor crop and high prices, and tells it not of Thales but of Democritus. There were of course many principles of agriculture that no economic or social changes could affect. The ‘oracle’ of Cato, as to the importance[1133] of thorough and repeated ploughing followed by liberal manuring, was true under all conditions. But just for a moment the veil is lifted to remind us that in the upland districts there was still an Italy agriculturally, as socially, very different from the lowland arable of which we generally think when speaking of Italian farming. ‘Ploughing on hillsides[1134] is cross-wise, and so toilsome to man that he even has to do ox-team’s work: at least the mountain peoples[1135] use the mattock for tillage instead of the plough, and do without the ox.’ It is to be regretted that we have so little evidence as to the condition of the dalesmen, other than the passages of such writers as Horace and Juvenal, who refer to them as rustic folk a sojourn among whom is a refreshing experience after the noise and bustle of Rome. For it seems certain that in these upland retreats there survived whatever was left of genuine Italian life, and we should like to be able to form some notion of its quantity; that is, whether the population of freemen on small holdings, living mostly on the produce of their own land, was numerically an important element in the total population of Italy. That great stretches of hill-forest were in regular use simply as summer pastures, and that the bulk of the arable lands were held in great estates, and slaves employed in both departments, we hear in wearisome iteration. But to get a true picture of the country as a whole is, in the absence of statistics, not possible. I have not been able to discover in Pliny any definite repugnance to slavery as a system. It is true that he is alive to the evils of the domestic slavery prevalent in his day. The brigades of slaves (_mancipiorum legiones_)[1136] filling the mansions of the rich, pilfering at every turn, so that nothing is safe unless put under lock and seal, are a nuisance and a demoralizing influence. They are an alien throng (_turba externa_) in a Roman household; a sad contrast[1137] to the olden time, when each family had its one slave, attached to his master’s clan, when the whole household lived in common, and nothing had to be locked up. But this is only one of Pliny’s moralizing outbreaks, and it is the abuse and overgrowth of slavery, not slavery in itself, that he is denouncing. In speaking of agriculture he says ‘to have farms cultivated by slave-gangs[1138] is a most evil thing, as indeed are all acts performed by those who have no hope.’ Here the comparative inefficiency of workers who see no prospect of bettering their condition is plainly recognized; but it is the economic defect, not the outrage on a common humanity, that inspires the consciously futile protest. And at the very end of his great book, when he breaks out into a farewell panegyric[1139] on Italy, and enumerates the various elements of her preeminence among the countries of the world, he includes the supply of slave-labour[1140] in the list. Spain perhaps comes next, but here too the organized employment[1141] of slaves is one of the facts that are adduced to justify her praise. Now I do not imagine that Pliny was a hard unkindly man. But he evidently accepted slavery as an established institution, one of the economic bases of society. He saw its inferiority to free labour, but a passing protest seemed to him enough. Had he been asked, Why don’t you recommend free labour directly? I think he would have answered, Where are you going to find it in any quantity? And it is obvious that, slave labour once assumed, the great thing was to have enough of it. Nor again have I found him using _colonus_ in the sense of tenant farmer. In that of ‘cultivator’ it occurs several times, as in the quotation[1142] from Cato, that to call a man _bonum colonum_ was of old the height of praise. Figuratively it appears in comparisons, as when the guilt of the slayer of an ox is emphasized[1143] by the addition ‘as if he had made away with his _colonus_.’ So of the fertilizing Nile he says ‘discharging the duty[1144] of a _colonus_.’ In the passage where he warns his readers against too high farming[1145] he remarks ‘There are some crops that it does not pay to gather, unless the owner is employing his own children or a _colonus_ of his own or hands that have on other grounds to be fed—I mean, if you balance the cost against the gain.’ Here it is just possible that he means ‘a tenant of his own,’ that is a tenant long attached to the estate, like the _coloni indigenae_ of Columella: but I think it is quite neutral, and probably he has in mind either a relative or a slave. The ‘persons for whose keep he is responsible’ sums up to the effect that if you have mouths to fill you may as well use their labour, for it will add nothing to your labour-bill. So far as I have seen, the difference between ownership and tenancy is not a point of interest to Pliny. In continuation of what has been said above as to the relations of Vergil and Columella, it is necessary to discuss briefly the attitude of Pliny towards these two writers. The indices to the _Natural History_ at once disclose the fact that citations of Vergil[1146] are about six times as numerous as those of Columella. Indeed he seldom refers to the latter; very often to Varro, even more often to Cato. The frequent references to Vergil may reasonably be explained as arising from a wish to claim whenever possible the moral support of the now recognized chief figure of Roman literature. This was all the more easy, inasmuch as Vergil’s precepts in the _Georgics_[1147] are mostly old or borrowed doctrine cast into a perfect form. Columella had used them in a like spirit, but in dealing with the labour-question he faced facts, not only instructing his readers in the technical processes of agriculture, but setting forth the forms of labour-organization by which those processes were to be carried on. Now Pliny records an immense mass of technical detail, but of labour-organization he says hardly any thing; for his laments over a vanished past are only of use in relieving his own feelings. And yet the labour-question, and the tenancy-question connected therewith, were the central issues of the agricultural problem. It was not the knowledge of technical details that was conspicuously lacking, but the will and means to apply knowledge already copious. Not what to do, but how to get it done, was the question which Columella tried to answer and Pliny, like Vergil, did not really face. It is curious to turn out the eight distinct references to Columella in Pliny. In none of these passages is there a single word of approval, and the general tone of them is indifferent and grudging. Sometimes the words seem to suggest that his authority is not of much weight, or pointedly remark that it stands quite alone. In one place[1148] he is flatly accused of ignorance. When we consider that Pliny speaks of Varro with high respect, and positively worships Cato and Vergil, it is clear that there must have been some special reason for this unfriendly and half-contemptuous attitude. The work of Columella did not deserve such treatment. It evidently held its ground in spite of sneers, for Palladius in the fourth century cites it repeatedly as one of the leading authorities. It is not difficult to conjecture possible causes for the attitude of Pliny: but none of those that occur to me is sufficient, even if true, to justify it. I must leave it as one of the weak points in the _Natural History_. XXXVII. TACITUS. =P Cornelius Tacitus=, one of the great figures of Roman literature, passed through the time of the Flavian emperors, but his activity as a writer belonged chiefly to the reign of Trajan. Like most historians, he gave his attention to public and imperial affairs, and we get from him very little as to the conditions of labour. Of emperors and their doings evil or good, of the upper classes and their reactionary sympathies, their intrigues and perils, we hear enough: but of the poor wage-earners[1149] and slaves hardly anything, for to one who still regretted the Republic while accepting the Empire, an aristocrat at heart, the lower orders were of no more importance than they had been to Cicero. Indeed they were now less worthy of notice, as free political life had ceased and the city rabble, no longer needed for voting and rioting, had merely to be fed and amused. A populace of some sort was a necessary element in the imperial capital: that it was in fact a mongrel mob could not be helped, and year by year it became through manumissions of slaves a mass of more and more cosmopolitan pauperism. The Provinces and the frontier armies were matters of deep interest, but the wars of the succession after Nero only served to exhibit with irresistible stress the comparative unimportance of Italy. Tacitus, a Roman of good family, born in Italy if not in Rome, dignified and critical by temperament, was not the man to follow the fashion of idle and showy rhetoric. He does not waste time and effort in vainly deploring the loss of a state of things that could not be restored. That the present condition of Italy grieved him, we may feel sure. But he viewed all things in a spirit of lofty resignation. That he was led to contrast the real or assumed virtues of German barbarians with the flagrant vices of Roman life was about the limit of his condescension to be a preacher: and it is not necessary to assume that the pointing of a moral was the sole motive of his tract on the land and tribes of Germany. I have already referred to the uneasiness of Tiberius as to the food-supply[1150] of Rome, dependent on importations of corn which were liable to be interrupted by foul weather and losses at sea. The risk was real enough, and the great artificial harbours constructed at the Tiber mouth by Claudius and Trajan were chiefly meant to provide accommodation for corn-fleets close at hand, with large granaries to store cargoes[1151] in reserve. The slave rising of 24 AD in south-eastern Italy, and its suppression, have also been mentioned[1152] above. These passages, and a passing reference to the unproductiveness[1153] of the soil (of Italy) are significant of the inefficiency of Italian agriculture in the time of Tiberius. But in reporting these matters Tacitus writes as historian, not as a contemporary witness, and enough has been said of them above. A curious passage, not yet referred to, is that describing the campaign[1154] against money-lenders in 33 AD. A law passed by Julius Caesar in BC 49 with the object of relieving the financial crisis without resorting to a general cancelling of debts, long obsolete, was raked up again, and there was widespread alarm, for most senators had money out on loan. It seems that some trials and condemnations actually took place, and that estates of the guilty were actually seized and sold for cash under the provisions of a disused law. Further trouble at once followed, for there was a general calling in of mortgages, while cash was scarce, the proceeds of the late sales having passed into one or other of the state treasuries. Eighteen months grace had been granted to enable offending capitalists to arrange their affairs in conformity with the law. Evidently these gentry were in no hurry to reinvest their money as it came in, but waited for a fall in the price of land, certain to occur as a consequence of dearer money. In order to guard against such a result, the Senate had ordered that each (that is, each paid-off creditor,) should invest ⅔ of his loanable capital in Italian real estate, and that each debtor[1155] should repay ⅔ of his debt at once. But the creditors were demanding payment in full, and it did not look well for the debtors to weaken their own credit (by practically confessing insolvency). So there was great excitement, followed by uproar in the praetor’s court: and the measures intended to relieve the crisis—the arrangements for sale and purchase—had just the opposite effect. For the capitalists had locked up all their money with a view to the (eventual) purchase of land. The quantity of land thrown on the market sent prices down, and the more encumbered a man was the more difficult he found it to dispose of his land (that is, at a price that would clear him of debt). Numbers of people were ruined, and the situation was only saved by Tiberius, who advanced a great sum of money to be used in loans for three years free of interest, secured in each case on real estate[1156] of twice the value. Thus confidence was restored and private credit gradually revived. But, Tacitus adds, the purchase of land on the lines of the Senate’s order was never carried through: in such matters it is the way of the world to begin with zeal and end with indifference. If I have rightly given the sense of this passage, it furnishes some points of interest. It sets before us a state of things in which a number of landowners have raised money by mortgaging their real estate, disregarding the provisions (whatever they were) of a law practically disused. This reminds us that one very general use of Italian land was as a security on which money could at need be raised. It was the only real security always available, and this inclined people to keep their hold on it, though as a direct income-producer it seldom gave good returns. No doubt they had to pay on their borrowings a higher rate[1157] of interest than they got on their capital invested in land. To be forced suddenly to sell their lands in a glutted market was manifest ruin; for the whole strength of their position lay in the justified assumption that the capital value of their land in the market exceeded the amount of their mortgage debts. Otherwise, who would have lent them the money on that security? We can hardly avoid the suspicion that the frequent use of land as a pledge may have had something to do with that unsatisfactory condition of agriculture on which the evidence of Latin writers has driven us to dwell. The mortgagor, once he had got the money advanced, had less interest in the landed security: the mortgagee, so long as he got his good return on the money lent, was unconcerned to see that his debtor’s income was maintained; and that, in taking a mortgage, he had insisted on a large margin of security for his capital, is not to be doubted. For what purpose these loans were generally contracted, we are not told. Those who borrowed money to waste it in extravagance would surely have found it more business-like to sell their land outright. The number of those who preferred to keep it, though encumbered on onerous terms, simply from social pride, cannot have been really large; but they would hardly make wise landlords. Probably some men raised money to employ it in speculations[1158] that seemed to offer rich returns. So long as the empire stood strong, mercantile speculation was far-reaching and vigorous. But those engaged in this line of business would seldom be able to find large sums in ready cash at short notice. Hence to them, as to spendthrifts, the sudden calling in of mortgages was a grave inconvenience. The picture of the wily capitalists, hoarding their money till the ‘slump’ in land-values had fully developed, is one of all ‘civilized’ peoples and ages. What is notable on this particular occasion is the sequel according to Tacitus. Once their design of profiting by their neighbours’ necessities was checked by the intervention of Tiberius, the investment in real estate was no longer attractive. The Senate’s order was not enforced and the money-lenders could, and did, reserve their ready cash for use in some more remunerative form of investment. The slackness of the Senate may have been partly due to careless neglect, as the words seem to suggest. But it may be suspected that some members of that body had private reasons for wishing the Order of the House not to be seriously enforced. Tacitus remarks that, on the matter being laid before the Fathers, they were thrown into a flutter, since there was hardly one among them[1159] that had not broken the law. This surely refers to the time-honoured trick of Roman senators, who, forbidden to engage in commerce (and money-lending was closely connected with commerce), evaded the restriction in various ways, such as holding shares in companies or lending through their freedmen as agents. So now, seeking a high rate of interest on their capital, they did not wish to lock up any more of it in land. Most of them would already own enough real estate for social purposes. From this episode we have some right to infer that in the period of the early Empire it had already become clear that very extensive landowning in Italy was an unwise policy for men who wanted a large income. Yet the preferential position of Italy had not ceased to be a fact; and even in the time of Trajan we have seen an imperial ordinance bidding new senators from the Provinces to invest ⅓ of their fortunes in Italian land. This might raise prices for the moment, but it had nothing directly to do with promoting agriculture. Practical farming seems to have been passing more and more into the hands of humbler persons, often freedmen, who treated it as a serious business. That the attention of Tacitus had been directed to the methods of capitalists in Italy, and therewith to money-lending, landholding, and slavery, may be gathered from the remarks on these subjects in his _Germany_. He writes, as Herodotus and others had done before him, taking particular notice of customs differing from those prevalent in his own surroundings. Thus he notes[1160] the absence of money-lending at interest. He describes the system of communal ownership of land by village-units, and its periodic redistribution among the members of the community. The wide stretches of open plains[1161] enable the Germans to put fresh fields under tillage year by year, leaving the rest in fallow (no doubt as rough pasture). Intensive culture is unknown. To wring the utmost out of the soil by the sweat of their brow is not their aim: they have no orchards or gardens or fenced paddocks, but are content to raise a crop of corn. All this is in marked contrast with Italian conditions. Even to get rid of fallows was an ambition of agriculturists in Italy, and a rotation-system[1162] had been devised to this end. And, whatever may have been the case in prehistoric times, full property in land had long been established by the Roman Law, and there was in the Italian land-system no trace of redistribution for short terms of use. In treating of slavery, the first point made is its connexion[1163] with the inveterate German habit of gambling. Losers will end by staking their own freedom on a last throw; if this also fails, they will submit to be fettered and sold. To the Roman this seems a false notion of honour. He adds that to take advantage of this sort of slave-winning is not approved by German sentiment: hence the winner combines[1164] scruples with profit by selling a slave of this class into foreign lands. Other slaves are not employed in Roman fashion as an organized staff of domestics. Each has a lodging and home of his own: his lord requires of him a fixed rent[1165] of so much corn or live-stock or clothing, as of a tenant: and he renders no service beyond this. House-work is done by a man’s own wife and family. Slaves are seldom flogged or chained or put to task-work. The German may kill his slave, but it will not be as a penalty for disobedience, but in a fit of rage. Freedmen are of little more account than slaves, and are only of influence at the courts of the kings who rule some of the tribes. There they rise above the freeborn and noble: but in general the inferiority of freedmen serves to mark the superiority of the freeborn. Tacitus had held an important official post in Belgic Gaul or one of the so-called ‘Germanies’ along the Rhine, and had been at pains to learn all he could of the independent barbarians to the East. The Rhine frontier was one of the Roman borders that needed most careful watching, and Roman readers took an uneasy interest in the doings of the warrior tribes whose numbers, in contrast to their own falling birth-rate, were ever renewed and increased by alarming fertility. He was not alone in perceiving the contrasts between Italian and German institutions and habits, or in reading morals therefrom, expressed or implied. Germans had been employed as mercenary soldiers by Julius Caesar, and were destined to become one of the chief elements of the Roman armies. But in Italy they were perhaps more directly known as slaves. We have just seen that Tacitus speaks of a regular selling of slaves over the German border, and another passage[1166] incidentally illustrates this fact in a curious manner. In the course of his conquest of Britain, Agricola established military posts on the NW coast over against Ireland. It seems to have been in one of these that a cohort of Usipi were stationed. They had been raised in the Roman Germanies, and apparently sent over in a hurry. Not liking the service, they killed their officer and the old soldiers set to train them, seized three vessels, and put to sea. After various adventures and sufferings in a voyage round the north of Britain, they fell into the hands of some tribes of northern Germany, who took them for pirates—those that were left of them. Of the fate reserved for some of these Tacitus remarks ‘Some were sold as slaves[1167] and, passing from purchaser to purchaser, eventually reached the Roman bank (of the Rhine), where their extraordinary story aroused much interest.’ Such were the strange possibilities in the northern seas and lands where the Roman and the German met. NOTE ON AN AFRICAN INSCRIPTION. It may be convenient to notice here an inscription[1168] relative to irrigation in Africa. In all parts of the empire subject to drought the supply of water to farmers was a matter of importance, as it is in most Mediterranean countries today. Good soils, that would otherwise have lain waste, were thus turned to account. In the African Provinces much was done to meet this need, as the remains of works for storage of water clearly testify. The period 69-180 AD seems to have been marked by a considerable extension of cultivation in these parts, and particularly in southern Numidia, which at that time was included in the Province Africa. In this district, between Sitifis (Setif) and Trajan’s great city Thamugadi (Timgad), lay the commune of Lamasba[1169], the members of which appear to have been mainly engaged in agriculture. There has been preserved a large portion of a great inscription dealing with the water-rights of their several farms. There is nothing to suggest that the holders of these plots were tenants under great landlords. They seem to be owners, not in the full sense of Roman civil law, but on the regular provincial[1170] footing, subject to tribute. To determine the shares of the several plots in the common water-supply was probably the most urgent problem of local politics in this community. The date of the inscription has been placed in the reign of Elagabalus; but it is obviously based on earlier conditions and not improbably a revision of an earlier scheme. It deals with the several plots one by one, fixing the number of hours[1171] during which the water is to be turned on to each, and making allowance for variation of the supply according to the season of the year. A remarkable feature of this elaborate scheme is the division of the plots into those below the water level into which the water finds its way by natural flow (_declives_), and those above water level (_acclives_). To the latter it is clear that the water must have been raised by mechanical means, and the scale of hours fixed evidently makes allowance for the slower delivery accomplished thereby. For the ‘descendent’ water was to be left flowing for fewer hours than the ‘ascendent.’ As a specimen of the care taken in such a community to prevent water-grabbing by unscrupulous members this record is a document of high interest. That many others of similar purport existed, and have only been lost to us by the chances of time, is perhaps no rash guess. The water-leet is called _aqua Claudiana_. The regulations are issued by the local senate and people (_decreto ordinis et colonorum_), for the place had a local[1172] government. Names of 43 possessors remain on the surviving portion of the stone. In form they are generally Roman[1173]. It is noted that only three of them have a _praenomen_. Of the quality of the men it is not easy to infer anything. Some may perhaps have been Italians. Whether they, or some of them, were working farmers must remain doubtful. At all events they do not seem to belong to the class of _coloni_ of whom we shall have to speak below, but to be strictly cultivating possessors. What labour they employed it is hardly possible to guess. XXXVIII. FRONTINUS. =Sextus Julius Frontinus=, a good specimen of the competent departmental officers in the imperial service, was not only a distinguished military commander but an engineer and a writer of some merit. His little treatise[1174] on the aqueducts of Rome has for us points of interest. From it we can form some notion of the importance of the great water-works, not only to the city but to the country for some miles in certain directions. For water-stealing by the illicit tapping of the main channels was practised outside as well as within the walls. Landowners[1175] did it to irrigate their gardens, and the underlings of the staff (_aquarii_) connived at the fraud: to prevent this abuse was one of the troubles of the _curator_. But in certain places water was delivered by branch supplies from certain aqueducts. This of course had to be duly licensed, and license was only granted when the flow of water in the particular aqueduct was normally sufficient to allow the local privilege without reducing the regular discharge in Rome. The municipality of Tibur[1176] seems to have had an old right to a branch of the _Anio vetus_. The _aqua Crabra_ had been a spring serving Tusculum[1177], but in recent times the Roman _aquarii_ had led off some of its water into the _Tepula_, and made illicit profit out of the supply thus increased in volume. Frontinus himself with the emperor’s approval redressed the grievance, and the full supply of the _Crabra_ again served the Tusculan landlords. The jealous attention given to the water-works is illustrated by the decrees[1178] of the Senate in the time of the Republic and of emperors since, by which grants of water-rights can only be made to individuals named in the grant, and do not pass to heirs or assigns: the water must only be drawn from the reservoir named, and used on the estate for which the license is specifically granted. The office of _curator aquarum_ was manifestly no sinecure. It was not merely that constant precautions had to be taken against the stealing of the water. An immense staff[1179] had to be kept to their duties, and the cleansing and repair of the channels needed prompt and continuous attention. And it seems that some of the landowners through whose estates the aqueducts passed gave much trouble[1180] to the administration. Either they erected buildings in the strips of land reserved as legal margin on each side of a channel, or they planted trees there, thus damaging the fabric; or they drove local roads over it; or again they blocked the access to working parties engaged in the duties of upkeep. Frontinus quotes decrees of the Senate dealing with these abuses and providing penalties for persons guilty of such selfish and reckless conduct. But to legislate was one thing, to enforce the law was another. Yet the unaccommodating[1181] landlords had no excuse for their behaviour. It was not a question of ‘nationalizing’ the side strips, though that would have been amply justified in the interests of the state. But the fact is that the old practice of Republican days was extremely tender of private rights. If a landlord made objection to selling a part of his estate, they took over the whole block and paid him for it. Then they marked off the portions required for the service, and resold the remainder. Thus the state was left unchallenged owner of the part retained for public use. But the absence of any legal or moral claim has not availed to stop encroachments: the draining away of the water still goes on, with or without leave, and even the channels and pipes themselves are pierced. No wonder that more severe and detailed legislation was found necessary in the time of Augustus. The writer ends by recognizing the unfairness of suddenly enforcing a law the long disuse of which has led many to presume upon continued impunity for breaking it. He therefore has been reviving it gradually, and hopes that offenders will not force him to execute it with rigour. What stands out clearly in this picture of the water-service is the utter lack of public spirit imputed to the landowners near Rome by a careful and responsible public servant of good repute. There is none of the sermonizing of Seneca or the sneers and lamentations of Pliny. Frontinus takes things as they are, finds them bad, and means to do his best to improve them, while avoiding the temptations of the new broom. That a great quantity of water was being, and had long been, diverted from the public aqueducts to serve suburban villas and gardens, is certain. What we do not learn is whether much or any of this was used for the market-gardens of the humble folk who grew[1182] garden-stuff for the Roman market. It is the old story,—little or nothing about the poor, save when in the form of a city rabble they achieve distinction as a public burden and nuisance. It does however seem fairly certain that licenses to abstract water were only granted as a matter of special favour. Therefore, so far as licensed abstraction went, it is most probable that influential owners of _suburbana_ were the only beneficiaries. Theft of water with connivance[1183] of the staff was only possible for those who could afford to bribe. There remains the alternative of taking it by eluding or defying the vigilance of the staff. Is it probable that the poor market-gardener ventured to do this? Not often, I fancy: we can only guess, and I doubt whether much of the intercepted water came his way. There was it is true one aqueduct[1184] the water of which was of poor quality. It was a work of Augustus, intended to supply the great pond (_naumachia_) in which sham sea-fights were held to amuse the public. When not so employed, this water was made available for irrigation of gardens. This was on the western or Vatican side of the Tiber. Many rich men had pleasure-gardens in that part, and we cannot be sure that even this water was in practice serving any economic purpose. XXXIX. INSCRIPTIONS RELATIVE TO _ALIMENTA_. It is impossible to leave unnoticed the inscriptions[1185] of this period relative to _alimenta_, and Mommsen’s interpretation[1186] of the two chief ones, though their connexion with my present subject is not very close. In the bronze tablets recording respectively the declarations of estate-values in the communes of Ligures Baebiani (101 AD) and Veleia (103 AD), made with the view of ascertaining the securities upon which the capital endowment was to be advanced, we have interesting details of this ingenious scheme for perpetuating charity. But neither these, nor some minor inscribed records of bequests, nor again the experience of Pliny the younger in a benefaction[1187] of the same kind, give us direct evidence on labour-questions. It is in connexion with tenure of land and management of estates that these documents mainly concern us. The fact that there was felt to be a call for charities to encourage the rearing of children was assuredly not a sign of social or economic wellbeing; but this I have remarked above. The following points stand out clearly in the interpretation of Mommsen. The growth of large estates as against small is shewn in both the tablets as having gone far by the time of Trajan: but not so far as modern writers have imagined. In the case of the Ligures Baebiani there is record of a considerable number of properties of moderate value, indeed they are in a majority. At Veleia, though small estates have not disappeared, there are more large ones, and the process of absorption has evidently been more active. This was not strange, for the former case belongs to the Hirpinian hill country of southern Italy, the latter to the slopes of the Apennine near Placentia, including some of the rich plain of the Po. The latter would naturally attract capital more than the former. I have more than once remarked that in the upland districts agricultural conditions were far less revolutionized than in the lowlands. This seems to be an instance in point: but the evidence is not complete. There is nothing to shew that the estates named in these tablets were the sole landed properties of their several owners. Nor is it probable. To own estates in different parts of the country was a well understood policy of landlords. How we are to draw conclusions as to the prevalence of great estates from a few isolated local instances, without a statement of the entire landed properties of the persons named, I cannot see. That writers of the Empire, when they speak of _latifundia_, are seldom thinking of the crude and brutal plantation-system of an earlier time, is very true. Those vast arable farms with their huge slave-gangs were now out of fashion, and Mommsen points out that our records are practically silent as to large-scale arable farming. We are not to suppose that it was extinct, but it was probably rare. The most valuable part of this paper is its recognition of the vital change in Italian agriculture, the transfer of farming from a basis of ownership to one of tenancy. The yeoman or owner-cultivator of olden time had been driven out or made a rare figure in the most eligible parts of Italy. The great plantations, which had largely superseded the small-scale farms, had in their turn proved economic failures. Both these systems, in most respects strongly contrasted, had one point in common: the land was cultivated by or for the owner, and for his own account. But the failure of the large-scale plantation-system did not so react as to bring back small ownership. Large ownership still remained, supported as it was by the social importance attached to landowning, and occasionally by governmental action directed to encourage investment in Italian land. Large owners long struggled to keep their estates in hand under stewards farming for their masters’ account. But this plan was doomed to failure, because the care and attention necessary to make it pay were in most cases greater than landlords were willing to bestow. By Columella’s time this fact was already becoming evident. He could only advise the landlords to be other than he found them, and meanwhile point to an alternative, namely application of the tenancy-system. It was this latter plan that more and more found favour. The landlord could live in town and draw his rents, himself free to pursue his own occupations. The tenant-farmer was only bound by the terms of his lease; and, being resident, was able to exact the full labour of his staff and prevent waste and robbery. The custom was for the landlord to provide[1188] the equipment (_instrumentum_) of the farm, or at least most of it, including slaves. Thus he was in a sense partner of his tenant, finding most of the working capital. Whether he had a claim to a money rent only, or to a share of crops also, depended on the terms of letting. It seems that rents were often in arrear, and that attempts to recover sums due by selling up tenants’ goods did not always cover the debts. The typical tenant-farmer was certainly a ‘small man.’ To let the whole of a large estate to a ‘big man’ with plenty of capital was not the practice in Italy. Why? I think the main reason was that a big capitalist who wanted to get the highest return on his money could at this time do better for himself in other ventures: if set upon a land-enterprise, he could find far more attractive openings in some of the Provinces. Anyhow, as Mommsen says, ‘Grosspacht’ never became acclimatized in Italy, though we find it on Imperial domains, for instance in Africa. In connexion with this matter I am led to remark that small tenancy ‘Kleinpacht’ seems to have existed in two forms, perhaps indistinguishable in law, but different in their practical effect. When a landlord, letting parcels of a big estate to tenants, kept in hand the chief _villa_ and its appurtenances as a sort of Manor Farm, and tenants fell into arrear with their rent, he had a ready means of indemnifying himself without ‘selling up’ his old tenants and having possibly much difficulty in finding better new ones. He could commute arrears of rent into obligations of service[1189] on the Manor Farm. Most tenants would probably be only too glad to get rid of the immediate burden of debt. It would seem a better course than to borrow for that purpose money on which interest would have to be paid, even supposing that anyone would be willing to lend to a poor tenant confessedly in difficulties. And such an arrangement would furnish the landlord with a fixed amount of labour (and labour was becoming scarcer) on very favourable terms—he or his agent would see to that. But it was not really necessary to reserve a ‘Manor Farm’ at all, and a man owning land in several districts would hardly do so in every estate, if in any. Such a landlord could not readily solve the arrears-problem by commutation. He was almost compelled[1190] to ‘sell up’ a hopeless defaulter: and, since most of the stock had probably been supplied by himself, there would not be much for him to sell. That such cases did occur, we know for certain; the old tenant went, being free to move, and to find a good new one was no easy matter, particularly as the land was sure to have been left in a bad state. Arrears of farm-rents had a regular phrase (_reliqua colonorum_) assigned to them, and there is good reason to believe that they were a common source of trouble. It has been well said[1191] that landlords in Italy were often as badly off as their tenants. The truth is that the whole agricultural interest was going downhill. If the tenant-farmer was, as we see, becoming more and more the central figure of Italian agriculture, we must next inquire how he stood in relation to labour. It is _a priori_ probable that a man will be more ready to work with his own hands on a farm of his own than on one hired: no man is more alive to the difference of _meum_ and _alienum_ than the tiller of the soil. It is therefore not wonderful that we find tenant-farmers employing slave labour. From the custom of having slaves as well as other stock supplied by the landlord we may fairly infer that tenants were, at least generally, not to be had on other terms. Mommsen remarks[1192] that actual handwork on the land was more and more directed rather than performed by the small tenants. Thus it came to be more and more done by unfree persons. This recognizes, no doubt rightly, that the system of great estates let in portions to tenants was not favourable to a revival of free rustic labour, but told effectively against it. He also points out[1193] that under Roman Law it was possible for a landlord and his slave to stand in the mutual relation of lessor and lessee. Such a slave lessee is distinct from the free tenant _colonus_. It appears that there were two forms of this relation. The slave might be farming on his own[1194] account, paying a rent and taking the farm-profits as his _peculium_. In this case he is in the eye of the law _quasi colonus_. Or he might be farming on his master’s account; then he is _vilicus_. In both cases he is assumed to have under him slave-labourers supplied[1195] by the landlord, and it seems that the name _vilicus_ was sometimes loosely applied even in the former case. In the latter case he cannot have been very different from the steward of a large estate worked for owner’s account. I can only conclude that he was put in charge of a smaller farm-unit and left more to his own devices. Probably this arrangement would be resorted to only when an ordinary free tenant was not to be had; and satisfactory ones were evidently not common in the time of the younger Pliny. So far as I can see, in this period landlords were gradually ceasing to keep a direct control over the management of their own estates, but the changes in progress did not tend to a rehabilitation of free labour. One detail needs a brief special consideration. The landlord’s agent (_actor_) is often mentioned, and it is clear that the _actor_ was generally a slave. But there is reference to the possible case[1196] of an _actor_ living (like his master) in town, not on the farms, and having a wife[1197] and daughter. This suggests a freedman, not a slave, and such cases may have been fairly numerous. Another point for notice is the question of _vincti, alligati, compediti_, in this period. Mommsen[1198] treats the chaining of field-slaves as being quite exceptional, in fact a punishment, in Italy under the Empire. Surely it was always in some sense a punishment. From what Columella[1199] says of the normal employment of chained labourers in vineyard-work I can not admit that the evidence justifies Mommsen’s assertion. That there was a growing reluctance to use such barbarous methods, and that local usage varied in various parts of the country, is certain. XL. DION CHRYSOSTOM. We have seen that there is no lack of evidence as to the lamentable condition of Italian agriculture in a large part of the country. But things were no better in certain Provinces, more particularly in Greece. Plutarch deplores[1200] the decay and depopulation of his native land, but the most vivid and significant picture preserved to us is one conveyed in a public address[1201] by the famous lecturer =Dion of Prusa=, better known as Dion[1202] Chrysostom. It describes conditions in the once prosperous island of Euboea. The speaker professes to have been cast ashore there in a storm, and to have been entertained with extraordinary kindness by some honest rustics who were living an industrious and harmless life in the upland parts, the rocky shore of which was notorious as a scene of shipwrecks. There were two connected households, squatters in the lonely waste, producing by their own exertions everything they needed, and of course patterns of every amiable virtue. The lecturer recounts the story of these interesting people as told him by his host. How much of it is due to his own imagination, or put together out of various stories, we cannot judge: but it is manifest that what concerns us is to feel satisfied that the experiences described were possible, and not grotesquely improbable, in their setting of place and time. I venture to accept the story as a sketch of what might very well have happened, whether it actually did so or not. We live mostly by the chase, said the hunter, with very little tillage. This croft (χωρίον) does not belong to us either by inheritance or purchase. Our fathers, though freemen, were poor like ourselves, just hired herdsmen, in charge of the herds of a rich man who owned wide farm-lands and all these mountains. When he died, his estate was confiscated: It is said that the emperor[1203] made away with him to get his property. Well, they drove off his live-stock for slaughter, and our few oxen with them, and never paid our wages. So we did the best we could, taking advantage of the resources of the neighbourhood in summer and winter. Since childhood I have only once visited the city[1204]. A man turned up one day demanding money. We had none, and I told him so on my oath. He bade me come with him to the city. There I was arraigned before the mob as a squatter on the public land, without a grant from the people, and without any payment. It was hinted that we were wreckers, and had put together a fine property through that wicked trade. We were said to have valuable farms and abundance of flocks and herds, beasts of burden, slaves. But a wiser speaker took a different line. He urged that those who turned the public land to good account were public benefactors and deserved encouragement. He pointed out that two thirds of their territory was lying waste through neglect and lack of population. He was himself a large landowner: whoever was willing to cultivate his land was welcome to do so free of charge,—indeed he would reward him for his pains—the improvement would be worth it. He proposed a plan for inducing citizens to reclaim the derelict lands, rent-free for ten years, and after that rented at a moderate share of the crops. To aliens less favourable terms might be offered, but with a prospect of citizenship in case of reclamation on a large scale. By such a policy the evils of idleness and poverty would be got rid of. These considerations he enforced by pointing to the pitiful state of the city itself. Outside the gates you find, not a suburb but a hideous desert. Within the walls we grow crops and graze beasts on the sites of the gymnasium and the market-place. Statues of gods and heroes are smothered in the growing corn. Yet we are forsooth to expel these hard-working folks and to leave men nothing to do but to rob or steal. The rustic, being called upon to state his own case, described the poverty of the squatter families, the innocence of their lives, their services to shipwrecked seafarers, and so forth. On the last topic he received a dramatic confirmation from a man in the crowd, who had himself been one of a party of castaways hospitably relieved three years before by these very people. So all ended well. The stress laid on the simple rusticity of the rustic, and the mutual distrust and mean jealousy of the townsfolk, shew in numerous touches that we have in this narrative a highly coloured scene. But the picture of the decayed city, with its ancient walls a world too wide for its shrunk population, is companion to that of the deserted countryside. Both panels of this mournful diptych could have been paralleled in the case of many a city and territory in Italy and Greece. The moral reflexions, in which the lecturer proceeds to apply the lessons of the narrative, are significant. He enlarges on the superiority of the poor to the rich in many virtues, unselfishness in particular. Poverty in itself is not naturally an evil. If men will only work with their own hands, they may supply their own needs, and live a life worthy of freemen. The word αὐτουργεῖν occurs more than once in this spirited appeal, shewing clearly that Dion had detected the plague-spot in the civilization of his day. But he honestly admits the grave difficulties that beset artisans in the various trades practised in towns. They lack necessary[1205] capital: everything has to be paid for, food clothing lodging fuel and what not, for they get nothing free but water, and own nothing but their bodies. Yet we cannot advise them to engage in foul degrading vocations. We desire them to live honourably, not to sink below the standards of the greedy usurer or the owners of lodging-houses or ships or gangs of slaves. What then are we to do with the decent poor? Shall we have to propose turning them out of the cities and settling them on allotments in the country? Tradition tells us rural settlement prevailed throughout Attica of yore: and the system worked well, producing citizens of a better and more discreet type than the town-bred mechanics who thronged the Assemblies and law-courts of Athens. It may be said that Dion is a mere itinerant philosopher, who travels about seeing the world and proposing impracticable remedies for contemporary evils in popular sermons to idle audiences. But he knew his trade, and his trade was to make his hearers ‘feel better’ for attending his discourses. When he portrays the follies or vices of the age, he is dealing with matters of common knowledge, and not likely to misrepresent facts seriously. When he suggests remedies, it matters little that there is no possibility of applying them. Present company are always excepted, and the townsfolk who listened to the preacher would neither resent his strictures on city life nor have the slightest intention of setting their own hands to the spade or plough. That there was a kind of moral reaction[1206] in this period, and that lecturers and essayists contributed something to the revival of healthier public sentiment, I do not dispute; though I think too much success is sometimes[1207] ascribed to their good intentions. At any rate they cannot be credited with improving the conditions of rustic life. To the farmer the voice of the great world outside was represented by the collectors of rents and taxes, the exactors of services, not by the sympathetic homilies of popular teachers. XLI. NEW TESTAMENT WRITERS. The authors of the books of the New Testament, whom it is convenient to view together as a group of witnesses bearing on the condition of a part of the Roman East under the early Empire, supply some interesting matter. We read of an agriculture that includes corn-growing, the culture of vines, and pastoral industry: the olive, and above all the fig-tree, appear as normal objects of the countryside. Plough spade and sickle, storehouse threshing-floor and winepress, are the familiar appliances of rustic life, as they had been from time immemorial. Farmers need not only hard work, but watchfulness and forethought, for the business of their lives. Live stock have to be protected from beasts of prey, and need endless care. And the rustic’s outlook is ever clouded by the fear of drought and murrain. All this is an ordinary picture, common to many lands: only the anxiety about water-supply is perhaps specially Oriental. The ox and the ass are the chief beasts of draught and burden. In short, country life goes on as of old, and much as it still does after many changes of rulers. From the way in which farmers are generally spoken of I infer that they are normally peasant[1208] landowners. That is to say, not tenants of an individual landlord, but holding their farms with power of sale and right of succession, liable to tribute. The Roman state is strictly speaking the owner, having succeeded to the royal ownership assumed by the Seleucid kings. But that there was also letting[1209] of estates to tenant-farmers is clear, for we read of collection of rents. At the same time we find it suggested, apparently as a moral rather than legal obligation, that the toiling farmer has the first claim[1210] on the produce, and the ox is not to be muzzled. Such passages, and others insisting on honesty and the duty of labour, keep us firmly reminded of the moral aims pervading the works of these writers. In other words, they are more concerned to define what ought to be than to record what is. Many of the significant references to rustic matters occur in parables. But we must not forget that a parable would have little force if its details were not realistic. Of the figures appearing on the agricultural scene we may distinguish the wealthy landlord[1211], whether farming for his own account or letting his land to tenants: the steward[1212] farming for his lord’s account: the tenant-farmer: probably the free peasant on a small holding of his own. Labour is represented by the farmer working with his own hands, and by persons employed simply as labourers. These last are either freemen or slaves. Slavery is assumed as a normal condition, but a reader can hardly help being struck by the notable passages in which the wage-earner appears as a means of illustrating an important point. Does the occurrence of such passages suggest that in these Oriental surroundings wage-service was as common a system as bond-service, perhaps even more so? I hesitate to draw this conclusion, for the following reason. Accepting the fact of slavery (as the writers do), there was not much to be said beyond enjoining humanity on masters and conscientious and respectful service on slaves. But the relation between hirer and hired, presumably a bargain, opened up far-reaching issues of equity, transcending questions of formal law. Hence we hear much about it. That the workman is worthy of his meat (ἐργάτης ... τροφῆς) is a proposition of which we have an earlier[1213] version, referring to slaves. The cowardice of the hireling shepherd points a notable moral. The rich who defraud the reaper of his hire[1214] meet with scathing denunciation. For to him that worketh the reward is not reckoned[1215] of grace but of debt. This last proposition seems to furnish a key to the remarkable parable[1216] of the Labourers in the Vineyard, which has been subjected to many diverse interpretations. If we accept the view that the wages represent the Kingdom of God, and that this reward is granted not of debt but of grace, it is clear that great stress is laid on the autocratic position of the householder (οἰκοδεσπότης). His treatment of the hired labourers is an assertion of entire indifference to what we call ‘economic’ considerations. How it is to be interpreted as equitable, theologians must decide, or be content to leave modern handworkers to draw their own conclusions. My interest in the matter may be shewn in the question whether this householder is to be regarded as a typical figure, or not. I trust I am guilty of no irreverence in saying that to me he seems a purely hypothetical character. That is to say that I take the gist of the parable to be this: if an employer chose to deal with his hirelings on such arbitrary principles, he would be acting within his rights. I do not infer that such conduct was likely in ordinary life, or even that a concrete case of its occurrence had ever been known. I cannot believe that in a country where debts[1217] and usury are referred to as matters of course, and where masters entrusted money[1218] to their slaves for purposes of trade, where sales of land[1219] were an ordinary business transaction, a sane individualistic capitalist would act as the man in this parable. Those who think differently must clear up their own difficulties. I would add that this parable, the details of which seem to me non-realistic, only occurs in one of the Gospels. Is it possible that it is based on some current Oriental story? XLII. MARTIAL AND JUVENAL. Among the witnesses, other than technical writers, from whom we get evidence as to the conditions of agriculture under the Empire, are two poets, Martial and Juvenal. The latter, a native of Aquinum in the old Volscian part of Latium, never shook off the influence of his connexion with rural Italy. The former, a native of Bilbilis in Spain, was one of the gifted provincials who came to Rome as the literary centre of the world. He spent more than thirty years there, and made an unrivalled name as a writer of epigrams, but his heart was in Spain. The attitude of these two men towards the facts of their time is very different, and the difference affects the value of their evidence. In the satires of Juvenal indignant rhetoric takes up a high moral position, and declaims fiercely against abominations. Now this attitude is beset with temptations to overstate an evil rather than weaken effect. Moreover, in imperial Rome it was necessary to be very careful: not only were personal references dangerous, but it was above all things necessary to avoid provoking the Emperor. Yet even Emperors could (and did) view attacks upon their predecessors with indifference or approval: while vicious contemporaries were not likely to put on the cap if their deceased counterparts were assailed. So the satirist, confining his strictures mainly to the past, is not often a contemporary witness of the first order. It is fortunate that his references to rustic conditions are not much affected by this limitation: but they mostly refer to the past. =Martial= on the contrary is a mere man of his time. His business is not to censure, still less to reform, but to find themes for light verse such as will hit the taste of average Roman readers. He soon discovered that scandal was the one staple topic of interest, and exploited it as a source of ‘copy’ down to the foulest dregs. Most of the characters exposed appear under fictitious Greek names, but doubtless Roman gossips applied the filthy imputations to each other. We need not suppose that Martial’s ruling passion was for bawdy epigram. But he knew what would hit the taste of an idle and libidinous world. For himself, nothing is clearer than that he found life in the great city a sore trial, not solely from the oppressive climate at certain seasons of the year. He was too clever a man not to suffer weariness in such surroundings. He had to practice the servility habitually displayed by poor men towards the rich and influential, but he did not like it. It seems to have been through patronage that he got together sufficient wealth to enable him eventually to retire to his native country. The din and dirt and chronic unrest of Rome were to him, as to Juvenal, an abomination: and from these ever-present evils there was, for dwellers in mean houses or crowded blocks of sordid flats, no escape. Both writers agree that the Rome of those days was only fit for the wealthy to live in. Secure in his grand mansion on one of the healthiest sites, with plenty of elbow-room, guarded against unwelcome intrusions by a host of slaves and escorted by them in public, the millionaire could take his life easily: he could even sleep. Martial had his way to make as a man of letters, and needed to keep brain and nerves in working order. For this, occasional retirement from the urban pandemonium was necessary. So he managed to acquire a little suburban[1220] property, where he could spend days in peace and quiet. Many of his friends did the same. To keep such a place, however small, in good order, and to grow some country produce, however little, it was necessary to have a resident[1221] _vilicus_. He had also a _vilica_, and there would probably be a slave or two under them. The poet was now better off, and doing as others did. These _suburbana_, retreats for the weary, were evidently numerous. Their agricultural significance was small. Martial often pokes fun at the owners who withdraw to the country for a holiday, taking with them[1222] their supplies of eatables bought in the markets of Rome. Clearly the city markets were well supplied: and this indicates the existence of another class of suburban properties, market-gardens on a business footing, of which we hear little directly. An industry of this kind springs up round every great centre of population: how far it can extend depends on the available means of delivering the produce in fair marketable condition. Round Rome it had no doubt existed for centuries, and was probably one of the most economically sound agricultural undertakings in central Italy. That it was conducted on a small scale and was prosperous may be the reason why it attracted little notice in literature. Though Martial cannot be regarded as an authority on Italian agriculture, it so happens that passages of his works are important and instructive, particularly in connexion with matters of land-management and farm-labour. He gives point to his epigrams by short and vivid touches, above all by telling contrasts. Now this style of writing loses most of its force if the details lack reality. He was therefore little tempted to go beyond the truth in matters of ordinary non-bestial life, such as agricultural conditions; we may accept him as a good witness. To begin with an all-important topic, let us see what we get from him on the management of land, either for the landlord’s account under a slave _vilicus_, or by letting it to a free _colonus_. In explaining the gloomy bearing of Selius, he remarks[1223] that it is not due to recent losses: his wife and his goods and his slaves are all safe, and he is not suffering from any failures of a tenant or a steward. Here _colonus_ as opposed to _vilicus_ must mean a free tenant, who might be behindhand with his rent or with service due under his lease. The opposition occurs elsewhere, as when he refers[1224] to the produce sent in to a rich man in Rome from his country estates by his steward or tenant. So too on the birthday of an eminent advocate all his clients and dependants send gifts; among them[1225] the hunter sends a hare, the fisherman some fish, and the _colonus_ a kid. The _venator_ and _piscator_ are very likely his slaves. In protesting[1226] against the plague of kissing as it strikes a man on return to Rome, he says, ‘all the neighbours kiss you, and the _colonus_ too with his hairy unsavoury mouth.’ It seems to imply that the rustic tenant would come to Town to pay his respects to his landlord. Barring the kiss, the duty of welcoming the squire makes one think of times not long gone by in England. In one passage[1227] there is a touch suggestive of almost medieval relations. How Linus has managed to get through a large inherited fortune, is a mystery in need of an explanation. He has not been a victim of the temptations of the great wicked city. No, he has always lived in a country town, where economy was not only possible but easy. Everything he needed was to be had cheap or gratis, and there was nothing to lead him into extravagant ways. Now among the instances of cheapness is the means of satisfying his sexual passions when they become unruly. At such moments either the _vilica_ or the _duri nupta coloni_ served his turn. The steward’s consort would be his slave, and there is no more to be said: but the tenant-farmer’s wife, presumably a free woman, is on a different footing. There is no suggestion of hoodwinking the husband, for the situation is treated as a matter of course. It would rather seem that the landlord is represented as relying on the complaisance of a dependent boor. If I interpret the passage rightly, we have in it a vivid sidelight on the position of some at least of the _coloni_ of the first century AD. That _vilici_ and _coloni_ alike were usually clumsy rustics of small manual skill, is suggested by two passages[1228] in which they are credited with bungling workmanship in wood or stone. Perhaps we may detect reference to a _colonus_ in an epigram on a man who spends his money lavishly on his own debaucheries but is meanly niggardly to necessitous friends. It says ‘you sell ancestral lands to pay for a passing gratification of your lust, while your friend, left in the lurch, is tilling land[1229] that is not his own.’ That is, you might have made him a present of a little farm, as many another has done; but you have left him to sink into a mere _colonus_. Enough has now been said to shew that these tenant-farmers were a humble and dependent class of men, and that the picture drawn from passages of Martial corresponds to that drawn above in Weber’s interpretation of Columella. It is not necessary to set out with the same fulness all the evidence of Martial on agricultural matters regarded from various points of view. The frequent reference to the land is a striking fact: like his fellow-countryman Columella, he was clearly interested in the land-system of Italy. He shews wide knowledge of the special products of different districts; a knowledge probably picked up at first in the markets of Rome, and afterwards increased by experience. No writer draws the line more distinctly between productive and unproductive estates. That we hear very much more of the latter is no wonder: so long as the supremacy of Rome was unshaken, and money poured into Italy, a great part of the country was held by wealthy owners to whom profit was a less urgent motive than pleasure or pride. To what lengths ostentation could go is seen[1230] in the perverse fancy of a millionaire to have a real _rus in urbe_ with grounds about his town house so spacious that they included a real vineyard: here in sheltered seclusion he could have a vintage in Rome. This is in truth the same vulgar ambition as that (much commoner) of the man who prides himself on treating guests at his country mansion to every luxury procurable in Rome. It is merely inverted. At this point it is natural to ask whence came the vast sums lavished on these and other forms of luxury. Italy was not a great manufacturing country. The regular dues from the Provinces flowed into the treasuries, not openly into private pockets. Yet a good deal of these monies no doubt did in the end become the reward of individuals, as salaries or amounts payable to contractors, etc. These however would not by themselves suffice to account for the immense squandering that evidently took place. A source of incomes, probably much more productive than we might at first sight imagine, existed in the huge estates owned by wealthy Romans in the lands beyond the seas. Martial refers[1231] to such properties at Patrae in Achaia, in Egypt, etc. The returns from these estates, however badly managed, were in the total probably very large. And they were no new thing. In Varro and in Cicero’s letters we find them treated as a matter of course: the case of Atticus and his lands in Epirus is well known. Pliny[1232] tells us of the case of Pompey, and also of the six land-monopolizers whom Nero found in possession of 50% of the Province of Africa. The practice of usury in the subject countries was no longer so widespread or so remunerative as it had been in the last period of the Republic, but it had not ceased, and the same is true of the farming of revenues. Commerce was active: but we are rather concerned with the means of paying for imported goods than with the fact of importation. The anxiety as to the supply of corn from abroad shews itself in the gossip[1233] of quidnuncs as to the fleet of freight-ships coming from Alexandria. Puteoli and Ostia were doubtless very busy; all we need note is that someone must have made money[1234] in the business of transport and delivery. These considerations may serve to explain the presence of so much ‘money in the country’ as we say, and the resulting extravagance. But all this social and economic fabric rested on the security guaranteed by the imperial forces on land and sea. One of Martial’s epigrams[1235] is of special interest as describing a manifestly exceptional estate. It was at or near Baiae, the famous seaside pleasure-resort, which had been the scene of costly fancies and luxurious living for more than a hundred years. The point of the poem lies in the striking contrast of this place compared with the unproductive _suburbanum_[1236] of another owner, which is kept going by supplies from the Roman market. For the place is a genuine unsophisticated country farm, producing corn and wine and good store of firewood, and breeding cattle swine sheep and various kinds of poultry and pigeons. When rustic neighbours come to pay their respects, they bring presents, such as honey in the comb, cheese, dormice, a kid, a capon. The daughters[1237] of honest tenants bring baskets of eggs. The _villa_ is a centre of hospitality; even the slaves are well fed. The presence of a slave-household brought from Town is particularly dwelt on: what with fishing and trapping and with ‘light work’ in the garden, these spoilt menials, even my lord’s pet eunuch, are happy enough. There are also young home-bred slaves (_vernae_) probably the offspring of the farm-slaves. The topsyturvydom of this epigram is so striking that one may suspect Martial of laughing in his sleeve at the eccentric friend whose farm he is praising. In any case this cannot be taken seriously as a realistic picture of a country seat practically agricultural. The owner evidently drew his income from other sources. And the sort of man who treated himself to an eunuch can hardly have been much of a farmer, even near Baiae. The mention of _probi coloni_ illustrates what has been said above as to tenants, and that a farm could be described in such words as _rure vero barbaroque_ is a candid admission that in too many instances a place of the kind could only by courtesy be styled a farm, since the intrusion of ‘civilization’ (that is, of refined and luxurious urban elements) destroyed its practical rustic character. That the estate in question produced enough to feed the owner and his guests, his domestics brought from Rome, and the resident rustic staff as well, is credible. But there is nothing to shew that it produced any surplus for the markets: it may have done something in this direction, but that it really paid its way, yielding a moderate return on the capital sunk in land slaves and other farm-stock, is utterly incredible. Whether in town or country, the life sketched by Martial is that of a society resting on a basis of slavery. At the same time the supply of new slaves[1238] was not so plentiful as it had been in days before the Roman Peace under Augustus. Serviceable rustic slaves were valuable nowadays. Addressing Faustinus, the wealthy owner of the above Baian _villa_ and several others, the poet says ‘you can send this book[1239] to Marcellinus, who is now at the end of his campaign in the North and has leisure to read: but let your messenger be a dainty Greek page. Marcellinus will requite you by sending you a slave, captive from the Danube country, who has the making of a shepherd in him, to tend the flocks on your estate by Tibur.’ Each friend is to send the other what the other lacks and he is in a position to supply. This is a single instance; but the suggested _do ut des_ is significant. As wars became rarer, and prisoners fewer, the disposal of captives would be a perquisite of more and more value. That the normal treatment of slaves was becoming more and more humane, is certain. But whether humanitarian sentiment in Stoic forms, as preached by Seneca and others, had much to do with this result, is more doubtful. The wisdom of not provoking discontent among the slaves, particularly in the country, was well understood. The decline of the free rustic population had made the absence of a regular police force a danger not to be ignored. Improved conditions were probably in most cases due to self-interest and caution much more than to humane sentiment. In Martial’s day we may gather from numerous indications that in general the lot of slaves was not a hard one if we except the legal right of self-disposal. Urban domestics were often sadly spoilt, and were apt to give themselves great airs outside the house or to callers at the door. But I believe that in respect of comfort and happiness the position of a steward with a slave-staff in charge of a country place owned by a rich man was in most cases far pleasanter. Subject to the preparation for the master’s occasional visits and entertainment of his guests, these men were left very much to their own devices. The site of the _villa_ had been chosen for its advantages. So long as enough work was done to satisfy the owner, they, his caretakers, enjoyed gratis for the whole year[1240] the privileges and pleasures which he paid for dearly and seldom used. It seems certain that it was on such estates that most of the slave-breeding took place. It was becoming a more regular practice, as we see from Columella. And it had advantages from several points of view. The slave allowed to mate with a female partner and produce children was more effectively tied to the place than the unmated labourer on a plantation was by his chain. So long as the little _vernae_ were not brutally treated (and it seems to have been a tradition to treat them well), the parents were much less likely to join in any rebellious schemes. And, after all, the young of slaves were worth money, if sold; while, if kept by the old master, they would work in what was the only home they had known: they would be easier to train and manage than some raw barbarian from Germany or Britain or the Sudan. But it must not be forgotten that the recognition of slave-breeding foreboded the eventual decline of slavery—personal slavery—as an institution, at least for purposes of rustic life. I know of no direct evidence[1241] as to the class or classes from which the unfree _coloni_ of the later Empire were drawn. But it seems to me extremely probable that many of the _coloni_ of the period with which we are just now concerned were home-bred slaves manumitted and kept on the estate as tenants. This conjecture finds a reason for manumission, as the freedman would be capable of a legal relation, which the slave was not. The freedman’s son would be _ingenuus_, and would represent, in his economic bondage under cover of legal freedom, a natural stage in the transition from the personal slave to the predial serf. That there were _vernae_ on the small suburban properties, the rest-retreats of Martial and many others, is not to be doubted. But they can hardly have been very numerous. These little places were often but poorly kept up. The owners were seldom wealthy men, able to maintain many slaves. Economy and quiet were desired by men who could not afford ostentation. The normal use of the epithet _sordidus_[1242] (not peculiar to Martial) in speaking of such places, and indeed of small farmsteads in general, is characteristic of them and of the undress life led there. The house was sometimes in bad condition. To patch up a leaky roof[1243] a present of a load of tiles was welcome. A man buys a place the house (_casa_) on which is horribly dark and old: the poet remarks that it is close to the pleasure-garden (_hortos_) of a rich man. This explains the purchase: the buyer will put up with bad lodging for the prospect of good dinners at his neighbour’s table. The difficulty of finding a purchaser for an estate of bad sanitary record, and the damage done to riparian farms by the Tiber floods, are instances[1244] of the ordinary troubles of the little landowners near Rome. A peculiar nuisance, common in Italy, was the presence in some corner of a field of the tomb[1245] of some former owner or his family. A slice of the land, so many feet in length and breadth, was often reserved[1246] as not to pass with the inheritance. What the heir never owned, that he could not sell. So, when the property changed hands, the new owner had no right to remove what to him might be nothing but a hindrance to convenient tillage. Altars[1247] taken over from a predecessor may also have been troublesome at times, but their removal was probably less difficult. The picture of agricultural conditions to be drawn from =Juvenal= agrees with that drawn from Martial. But, as said above, the point of view is different in the satirist, whose business it is to denounce evils, and who is liable to fall into rhetorical exaggeration. And to a native of central Italy the tradition of a healthier state of things in earlier ages was naturally a more important part of his background than it could be to a man from Spain. Hence we find vivid scenes[1248] drawn from legend, shewing good old Romans, men of distinction, working on the land themselves and rearing well-fed families (slaves included) on the produce of meagre little plots of two _iugera_. An ex-consul[1249] breaks off his labours on a hillside, shoulders his mattock, and joins a rustic feast at the house of a relative. The hill-folk of the Abruzzi are patterns of thrifty contentment, ready to earn their bread[1250] with the plough. But the civic duties are not forgotten. The citizen has a double function. He serves the state in arms and receives a patch of land[1251] as his reward for wounds suffered. He has to attend the Assembly before his wounds[1252] are fully healed. In short, he is a peasant soldier who does a public duty in both peace and war. The vital need of the present day[1253] is that parents should rear sons of this type. Here we have the moral which these scenes, and the frequent references to ancient heroes, are meant to impress on contemporaries. A striking instance[1254] from historical times is that of Marius, who is represented as having risen from the position of a wage-earning farm-labourer to be the saviour of Rome from the barbarians of the North. But the men of the olden time led simple lives, free from the extravagance and luxury of these days and therefore from the temptations and ailments that now abound. The only wholesome surroundings[1255] now are to be found in out-of-the way country corners or the homes of such frugal citizens as Juvenal himself. But these are mere islets in a sea of wantonness bred in security: luxury is deadlier[1256] than the sword, and the conquered world is being avenged in the ruin of its conqueror. Perhaps no symptom on which he enlarges is more significant and sinister from his own point of view than that betrayed in a passing reference by the verbal contrast[1257] between _paganus_ and _miles_. The peasant is no longer soldier: and in this fact the weightiest movements of some 250 years of Roman history are virtually implied. So much for an appeal to the Roman past. But Juvenal, like Vergil before him, was not content with this. He looks back to the primitive age[1258] of man’s appearance on earth and idealizes the state of things in this picture also. Mankind, rude healthy and chaste, had not yet reached the notion of private property: therefore theft was unknown. The moral is not pressed in the passage where this description occurs; but it is worth noting because the greed of men in imperial Rome, and particularly in the form of land-grabbing and villa-building, is a favourite topic in the satires. All this side of contemporary life, viewed as the fruit of artificial appetites and unnecessary passions, is evidence of a degeneracy that has been going on ever since the beginnings of society. And the worst of it is that those who thrive on present conditions are the corrupt the servile and the mean, from whom no improvement can be hoped for. Juvenal’s picture of present facts as he sees them is quite enough to justify his pessimism. As a means of arresting degeneration he is only able to suggest a change[1259] of mind, in fact to urge people to be other than they are. But he cannot shew where the initiative is to be found. Certainly not in the mongrel free populace of Rome, a rabble of parasites and beggars. Nor in the ranks of the wealthy freedmen into whose hands the chief opportunities of enrichment have passed, thanks to the imperial jealousy of genuine Romans and preference of supple aliens. These freedmen are the typical capitalists: they buy up everything, land included; and Romans who despise these upstarts have nevertheless to fawn on them. Nor again are leaders to be found in the surviving remnant of old families. It is a sad pity, but pride of birth, while indisposing them to useful industry, does not prevent them from debauchery or from degrading themselves in public. Financial ruin and charges of high treason are destroying them: even were this not so, who would look to such persons for a wholesome example? Neither religion with its formalities and excitements, nor philosophy with its professors belying their moral preaching, could furnish the means of effecting the change of heart needed for vital reform. No, it was not from the imperial capital, the reeking hotbed of wickedness, that any good could come. And when Juvenal turns to the country it is remarkable how little comfort he seems to find in the rural conditions of Italy. Like other writers, he refers to the immense estates[1260] that extended over a great part of the country, both arable and grazing lands (_saltus_), the latter in particular being of monstrous size. We cannot get from him any hint that the land-monopoly, the canker of the later Republic, had been effectually checked. Nor indeed had it. One of the ways in which rich patrons[1261] rewarded clients for services, honourable or (as he suggests) often dishonourable, was to give the dependant a small landed estate. The practice was not new. Maecenas had given Horace his Sabine farm. But the man who gave away acres must have had plenty of acres to give. True, some of the great landlords had earned[1262] their estates by success in an honourable profession: but the satirist is naturally more impressed by the cases of those, generally freedmen, whose possessions are the fruit of corrupt compliance or ignoble trades. These upstarts, like the Trimalchio of Petronius, live to display their wealth, and the acquisition of lands[1263] and erection of costly villas are a means to this end. The fashion set by them is followed by others, and over-buying and over-building are the cause of bankruptcies. Two passages[1264] indicate the continued existence of an atrocious evil notorious in the earlier period of the _latifundia_, the practice of compelling small holders to part with their land by various outrages. The live stock belonging to a rich neighbour are driven on to the poor man’s farm until the damage thus caused to his crops forces him to sell—of course at the aggressor’s price. A simpler form, ejectment without pretence of purchase, is mentioned as an instance of the difficulties in the way of getting legal redress, at least for civilians. There would be little point in mentioning such wrongs as conceivable possibilities: surely they must have occurred now and then in real life. The truth, I take it, was that the great landlord owning a host of slaves had always at disposal a force well able to carry out his territorial ambitions; and possession of power was a temptation to use it. The employment of slaves in rural border-raids was no new thing, and the slave, having himself nothing to lose, probably found zest in a change of occupation. In Juvenal agriculture appears as carried on by slave labour, and the employment of supplementary wage-earners is ignored; not unnaturally, for it was not necessary to refer to it. The satirist himself[1265] has rustic slaves, and is proud that they are rustic, when they on a special occasion come in to wait at his table in Rome. Slaves are of course included[1266] in the stock of an estate, great or small, given or sold. All this is commonplace: what is more to the satirist’s purpose is the mention[1267] of a member of an illustrious old family who has come down in the world so low as to tend another man’s flocks for hire. And this is brought in as a contrast to the purse-proud insolence of a wealthy freedman. But more remarkable is the absence of any reference to tenant _coloni_. Even the word _colonus_ does not occur in any shade of meaning. This too may fairly be accounted for by the fact that little could have been got out of references to the system for the purposes of his argument. It was, as he knew, small peasant landowners, not tenants, that had been the backbone of old Rome; and it was this class, viewed with the sympathetic eye of one sighing for perished glories, that he would have liked to restore. It is a satirist’s bent to wish for the unattainable and protest against the inevitable. For himself, he can sing the praises of rustic simplicity and cheapness and denounce the luxury and extravagance of Roman society, though he dare not assail living individuals. And in exposing the rottenness of the civilization around him he attacks the very vices that had grown to such portentous heights through the development of slavery. Idleness bore its fruit, not only in the debauchery and gambling that fostered unholy greed and crimes committed to procure the money that was ever vanishing, but in the degradation of honest labour. Pampered menials were arrogant, poor citizens servile. And vast tracts of Italian land bore witness to the mournful fact that the land system, so far from affording a sound basis for social and economic betterment, was itself one of the worst elements of the situation. At this stage it is well to recall the relation between agriculture and military service, the farmer-soldier ideal. The long-since existing tendency for the soldier to become a professional, while the free farmer class was decaying, had never obliterated the impression of this ideal on Roman minds. The belief that gymnastic exercises on Greek models were no effective substitute for regular manual labour in the open air as guarantees of military ‘fitness’ is still strong in Juvenal. It shews itself in his pictures of life in Rome, where such exercises were practised for the purpose of ‘keeping fit’ and ‘getting an appetite,’ much as they are now. Followed by baths and massage and luxurious appliances of every kind, this treatment enabled the jaded city-dweller to minimize the enervating effects of idleness relieved by excitements and debauchery. He significantly lays stress on the fact that these habits were as common among women as among men. The usual allowance must be made for a satirist’s exaggeration; but the general truth of the picture is not to be doubted. The city life was no preparation for the camp with its rough appliances and ever-present need for the readiness to endure cheerfully the hardships of the field. The toughness of the farm-labourer was proverbial: the Latin word _durus_ is his conventional epithet. In other words, he was a model of healthy hardness and vigour. Now to Juvenal, as to others, the best object of desire[1268] was _mens sana in corpore sano_, and he well knew that to secure the second gave the best hope of securing the first. We might then expect him to recommend field work as the surest way to get and keep vigorous health. Yet I cannot find any indication of this precept save the advice to a friend to get out of Rome and settle on a garden-plot in the country. He says ‘there live devoted[1269] to your clod-pick; be the _vilicus_ of a well-tended garden.’ I presume he means ‘be your own steward, and lend a hand in tillage as a steward would do.’ But an average _vilicus_ would be more concerned to get work out of his underlings than to exert himself, and Juvenal is not very explicit in his advice, the main point being to get his friend out of Rome. I have reserved for comparison with this passage one from Martial[1270]. In a couplet on a pair of _halteres_ (something rather like dumb-bells) he says ‘Why waste the strength of arms by use of silly dumb-bells? If a man wants exercise, he had better go and dig in a vineyard.’ This is much plainer, but one may doubt whether it is seriously meant to be an ordinary rule of life. Probably it is no more than a sneer at gymnastic exercises. For Martial well knew that muscle developed by the practice of athletics[1271] is very different from the bodily firmness and capacity for continuous effort under varying conditions that is produced by a life of hard manual labour. And the impression left on a reader’s mind by epigrammatist and satirist alike is that in Rome and in the most favoured and accessible parts of Italy the blessing of ‘corporal soundness’ was tending to become a monopoly of slaves. For when Juvenal declares[1272] that nowadays the rough _fossor_, though shackled with a heavy chain, turns up his nose at the garden-stuff that fed a Manius Curius in the olden days, hankering after the savoury fleshpots of the cook-shop, we need not take him too seriously. XLIII. PLINY THE YOUNGER. The =younger Pliny=, one of the generation who remembered Vespasian, lived through the dark later years of Domitian, and rejoiced in the better times of Nerva and Trajan, is one of our most important witnesses. Not being a technical writer on agriculture, it was not his business to dwell on what ought to be done rather than what was being done. Being himself a great landowner as well as a man of wide interests and high reputation, he knew the problems of contemporary land-management from experience, and speaks with intelligence and authority. He was not a man of robust constitution, and like many others he found much refreshment in rural sojournings. He is remarkable for keen appreciation of beautiful scenery. Adopted by his uncle, the author of the _Natural History_, well-educated and in touch with the literary circles and the best social life of Rome, his letters illustrate the intellectual and moral influences that prevailed in cultivated households of honest gentlemen. In particular he is to us perhaps the very best example of the humanizing tendency of the current philosophies of the day in relation to the subject of slavery. He is deeply interested in promoting manumissions[1273] whenever he gets a chance. His tender concern for the welfare of his slaves constantly meets us, and he is only consoled for the death of one by reflecting that the man was manumitted in time[1274] and so died free. In fact he does not regard slavery as a normally lifelong condition; and he allows his slaves to make informal wills and respects their disposition of their savings among their fellows[1275] in the household, which is to slaves a sort of commonwealth. Masters who don’t feel the loss of their slaves are really not human. But this all refers to domestics, and does not touch the case of the field-hand toiling on the farm. A transaction[1276] in reference to the sale of some land by the lake of Como, Pliny’s own neighbourhood, illustrates the normal changes of ownership that were going on, and his own generous nature. An old lady, an intimate friend of his mother, wanted to have a property in that lovely district. Pliny gave her the offer of any of his land at her own price, reserving only certain parcels for sentimental reasons. Before (as it seems) any bargain was made, a friend died and left ⁵⁄₁₂ of his estate to Pliny, including some land such as the old lady desired. Pliny at once sent his freedman Hermes to offer her the suitable parcels for sale. She promptly clinched the bargain with Hermes at a figure which turned out to be only ⁷⁄₉ of the full value. Pliny’s attention was called to this, but he stood by the act of his freedman and ratified the sale. The _publicani_ who were then farming the 5% duty on successions soon appeared, and claimed the 5% as reckoned on estimated full value of the property. The old lady settled with them on these terms, and then insisted on paying to Pliny the full value, not the bargained price; which offer he, not to be outdone, gracefully declined. Such was the course of a commonplace transaction, carried out by exceptional people in an unselfish spirit. We are most certainly not to suppose that this sort of thing was common in land-dealings. Another letter[1277] shews us how a well-meant benefaction might fail in its aim for want of means in the beneficiary. An old slave-woman, once Pliny’s wet-nurse, had evidently been manumitted, and he made her a present of a small farm (_agellum_) to provide her maintenance. At that time its market value was ample to secure this. But things went wrong. For some reason the yearly returns fell, and the market value fell also. Whether the old woman had tried to manage it herself and failed, or whether a bad tenant had let down the cultivation, does not plainly appear. At any rate Pliny was greatly relieved when a friend, presumably one living near the place, undertook to direct the cultivation of the farm. He expresses his confidence that under the new management the holding would recover its value. For his own credit, not less than for the advantage of his nurse, he wishes to see it produce its utmost. These little holdings no doubt needed very skilful management, and I suspect that idle slaves were in this case the cause of the trouble. Slaves commonly went with land, and I do not think the generous donor would give his old nurse the bare land without the needful labour. The old ‘Mammy’ could not control them, and Pliny’s friend saved the situation. Trajan’s order, requiring Provincial candidates for office to invest a third[1278] of their property in Italian real estate, and the artificial rise of prices for the time, has been dealt with above. Pliny advised a friend, if he would be not sorry[1279] to part with his Italian estates, to sell now at the top of the market and buy land in the Provinces, where prices would be correspondingly lowered. Of the risks attendant on landowning in Italy he was well aware, and one letter[1280] on the pros and cons of a tempting purchase must be translated in full. He writes thus to a friend. ‘I am doing as usual, asking your advice on a matter of business. There are now for sale some landed properties that border on farms of mine and indeed run into them. There are about them many points that tempt me, but some equally important that repel me. The temptations are these. First, to round off my estate would be in itself an improvement. Secondly, it would be a pleasure, and a real economy to boot, to make one trip and one expense serve for a visit to both properties, to keep both under the same[1281] legal agent, indeed almost under the same stewards, and to use only one of the granges as my furnished house, just keeping the other in repair. I am taking into account the cost of furniture, of chief servants, fancy gardeners, artisans, and even hunting[1282] outfit: for it makes a vast difference whether items like these are concentrated in one spot or are scattered in separate places. On the other hand I fear it may be rash to expose so large a property to the same local climatic risks. It seems safer to encounter the changes of fortune by not holding too much land in one neighbourhood. Moreover, it is a very pleasant thing to have change of scene and climate, and so too is the mere touring about from one of your estates to another. Then comes the chief issue on which I am trying to make up my mind. The farms are productive, the soil rich, the water-supply good; they contain pastures, vineyards, and woodlands that afford timber, from which there is a small but regular return. A favoured land, you see: but it is suffering from the weakness[1283] of those who farm it. For the late landlord several times distrained[1284] on the tenants’ goods, lessening their arrears[1285] of rent for the moment, but draining their substance for the future: the failure of this sent up the arrears once more. So they will have to be equipped[1286] with labour; which will cost all the more because only trusty slaves will do. As for chained slaves, I never keep them on my estates, and in those parts nobody does. I have now only to tell you the probable price. It is three million sesterces, though at one time it was five million: but, what with the present scarcity[1287] of tenants and the prevailing agricultural depression, the returns from the farms have fallen, and so has the market value. You will want to know whether I can raise easily even the three millions. It is true that nearly all I have is invested[1288] in land; still I have some money out at interest, and I shall have no trouble in borrowing. I shall get it from my mother-in-law, who lets me use her cash as if it were my own. So pray don’t let this consideration influence you, provided the others do not gainsay my project; I beg you to weigh them most carefully. For of experience and foresight you have plenty and to spare as a guide in general business, particularly in the placing of investments.’ The glimpses of agricultural conditions that we get from Pliny’s letters do not as a rule give us a cheerful picture. Most of his land seems to have been under vines, and the vintage[1289] was often poor, sometimes a failure. Drought and hailstorms played havoc[1290] with the crops. When there was a bountiful vintage, of course the wine made a poor price. Hence the returns from the farms are small, and unsafe[1291] at that. So he replies to similar complaints of friends. When he is at any of his country places he generally has to face a chorus of grumbling[1292] tenants. He was sometimes utterly puzzled what to do. If inclined to make abatements[1293] of rent, he is uneasily aware that this remedy may only put off the evil day. If tenants do not recover their solvency (and he knows that they seldom do), he will have to change his policy[1294], for they are ruining the land by bad husbandry. For himself, he is no farmer. When on a country estate, watching the progress of the vintage, he potters about[1295] in a rather purposeless manner, glad to retire to his study where he can listen to his reader or dictate to his secretary: if he can produce[1296] a few lines, that is his crop. It would seem that not all his farms were let to tenants. In one letter he speaks of his town-slaves[1297] being employed as overseers or gangers of the rustic hands, and remarks that one of his occupations is to pay surprise visits to these fellows. We can guess what a drag upon Italian agriculture the slavery-system really was: here is a man full of considerate humanity, devoted to the wellbeing of his slaves, who cannot trust one of them to see that others do their work. But that letting to tenants was his usual plan is evident from the number of his references to the trouble they gave him. It was not always clear whether to get rid of them or to keep them (and if the latter, on what terms,) offered the less disastrous solution of an awkward problem. In one letter[1298] he gives the following excuse for his inability to be present in Rome on the occasion of a friend’s succeeding to the consulship. ‘You won’t take it ill of me, particularly as I am compelled[1299] to see to the letting of some farms, a business that means making an arrangement for several years, and will drive me to adopt a fresh policy. For in the five years[1300] just past the arrears have grown, in spite of large abatements granted. Hence most (of the tenants) take no further trouble to reduce their liabilities, having lost hope of ever meeting them in full: they grab and use up everything that grows, reckoning that henceforth it is not they[1301] who would profit by economy. So as the evils increase I must find remedies to meet them. And the only possible plan is to let these farms[1302] not at a cash rent but on shares, and then to employ some of my staff as task-masters to watch the crops. Besides, there is no fairer source of income than the returns rendered by soil climate and season. True, this plan requires mighty honesty, keen eyes, and a host of hands. Still I must make the trial; I must act as in a chronic malady, and use every possible treatment to promote a change.’ No doubt there were many landlords more effectively qualified to wring an income out of rustic estates than this delicate and gentle literary man. Indeed he knew this himself and made no secret of it. Writing to a friend[1303] he says ‘When others go to visit their estates, it is to come back the richer; when I do so, it is to come back the poorer for the trip.’ He then tells the story of a recent experience. He had disposed of the year’s vintage on some estate (evidently the hanging crop) by auction to some speculative buyers, who were tempted by the apparent prospects of a rise in price to follow. Things did not turn out as expected, and Pliny felt bound to make some abatement in the covenanted price. Whether this was simply owing to his own scrupulous love of fair dealing, or whether some stipulation in the contract of sale had automatically become operative, does not seem quite clear: I should give him the benefit of the doubt. How to make the abatement equitably, so as to treat each case with perfect fairness, was a difficult problem. For, as he shews at length, the circumstances of different cases differed widely, and a mere ‘flat rate’ remission of so much per cent all round would not have worked out so as to give equal relief to all. After careful calculation he devised a scheme that satisfied his conscientious wish to act fairly by each and all. Of course this left him a large sum out of pocket, but he thought that the general approval of the neighbourhood and the gratitude of the relieved speculators were well worth the money. For to have a good name among the local dealers was good business for the future. Many an honest gentleman since Pliny’s time has similarly consoled himself for his losses of honour, and some of them have not missed their well-earned recompense. Among his many country properties, a certain Tuscan _villa_ was one of his favourite resorts. In a long description of it and its various attractions he mentions[1304] incidentally that the Tiber, which ran right through the estate, was available for barges in winter and spring, and thus enabled them to send their farm-produce by water-carriage to Rome. This confirms the evidence of other writers, as does also the letter describing the widespread devastation[1305] caused by a Tiber flood. More notable as throwing light on conditions of life in rural Italy is a letter[1306] in reply to a correspondent who had written to inform him of the disappearance of a Roman of position and property when on a journey, apparently in the Tiber country. The man was known to have reached Ocriculum, but after that all trace of him was lost. Pliny had small hopes from the inquiry that it was proposed to conduct. He cites a similar case from his own acquaintance years before. A fellow-burgess of Comum had got military promotion as centurion through the influence of Pliny, who made him a present of money when he set out, apparently for Rome, to take up his office. Nothing more was ever heard of him. But Pliny adds that in this case, as in the one just reported, the slaves escorting their master also disappeared. Therefore he leaves it an open question, whether[1307] the slaves murdered their master and escaped undetected, or whether the whole party on either occasion were murdered by a robber band. The lack of a regular constabulary in Italy had been, and still was, a grave defect in Roman administration. To account for this neglect we must remember that rich men always relied on their slave-escort for protection. If the poor man travelled, he was not worth[1308] robbing; his danger was the chance of being kidnapped and sold for a slave, and we have seen that some of the early emperors tried to put down this abuse. The danger to a traveller from his own slaves was perhaps greater on a journey than at home; but it was of the same kind, inseparable from slavery, and was most cruelly dealt with by the law. Meanwhile brigandage seems never to have been thoroughly extinguished in Italy or the Provinces[1309]. In spite of these drawbacks to life and movement in a great slave-holding community, there is nothing that strikes a reader more in Pliny’s letters than the easy acceptance of present conditions. Under Trajan the empire seemed so secure and strong, that unpleasant occurrences could be regarded as only of local importance. That the free population of Italy could no longer defend in arms what their forefathers had won, was manifest. But custom was making it seem natural to rely on armies raised in the Provinces; all the more so perhaps as emperors were being supplied by Spain. That slavery itself was one of the cankers that were eating out the vitality of the Roman empire, does not seem to have occurred to Pliny or other writers of the day. Philosophers had got so far as to protest against its worst abuses and vindicate the claims of a common humanity. Christian apostles, in the circles reached by them, preached also obedience[1310] and an honesty above eye-service as the virtues of a slave. But in both of these contrasted doctrines the teachers were mainly if not exclusively thinking of domestics, not of farm-hands. There was however one imperial department in which the distinction between slave and free still rigidly followed old traditional rules; and it was one much more likely to have to deal with cases of rustic slaves than of domestics. This was the army. The immemorial rule, that no slave could be a soldier, had never been broken save under the pressure of a few great temporary emergencies, or by the evasions incident to occasions of civil warfare. It still remained in force. When Pliny was governor of the Province of Bithynia and Pontus he had to deal with a question arising out of this rule. Recruiting was in progress, and two slaves were discovered among the men enlisted. They had already taken the military oath, but were not yet embodied in any corps. Pliny reported the case[1311] to Trajan, and asked for instructions. The emperor sent a careful answer. ‘If they were called up (_lecti_), then the recruiting officer did wrong: if they were furnished as substitutes[1312] (_vicarii dati_), the fault is with those who sent them: but if they presented themselves as volunteers, well knowing[1313] their disqualification, they must be punished. That they are not as yet embodied, matters little. For they were bound to have given a true account of their extraction on the day when they came up for inspection.’ What came of it we do not know. But it is no rash guess that the prospect of escaping into the ranks of the army would be attractive[1314] to a sturdy rustic slave, and that a recruiting officer might ask few questions when he saw a chance of getting exceptionally fine recruits. Probably the two detected suffered the capital penalty. Such was still the rigid attitude of the great soldier-emperor, determined not to confess the overstraining of the empire’s man-power. But the time was not far distant when Marcus, beset by the great pestilence and at his wits’ end for an army of defence, would enrol slaves[1315] and ruffians of any kind to fight for Rome. It is not necessary to cite the numerous references in the letters to slaves and slavery that are not connected with agriculture. Nor need I pursue in detail the circumstances of one of his generous public benefactions, the alimentary endowment[1316] for freeborn children, probably at Comum. It has been mentioned in another chapter, and its chief point of interest is in the elaborate machinery employed to secure the perpetuity of the charity. To leave money to the municipality was to risk its being squandered. To leave them land meant that the estate would not be carefully managed. What he did was to convey[1317] the property in some land to a representative of the burgesses, and to take it back subject to a rent-charge considerably less than the yearly value of the land. Thus the endowment was safe, for the margin allowed would ensure that the land would not be allowed to drop out of cultivation. An interesting glimpse of municipal patriotism, active and passive. The only other detail I have to note is that he regularly uses the term _colonus_ as ‘tenant-farmer.’ I have not found a single instance of the older sense ‘tiller of the soil.’ We cannot argue from Pliny to his contemporaries without some reserve, for he was undoubtedly an exceptional man. But, so far as his evidence goes, it bears out the view that great landlords were giving up the system of slave stewardships for free tenancies. Owners there still were who kept their estates in hand, farming themselves or by deputy for their own account. But that some of these were men of a humbler class, freedmen to wit, we have seen reason to believe from references in the elder Pliny. Perhaps they were many, and some may even have worked with their own hands. Be this as it may, slave labour[1318] was still the staple appliance of agriculture, and whenever there were slaves for sale there were always buyers. XLIV. SUETONIUS AND OTHERS. =Suetonius=, whose Lives of the first twelve emperors contain much interesting and important matter, stands in relation to the present inquiry on the same footing as most of the regular historians. He flourished in the times of Trajan and Hadrian, and therefore what remains of his writings is not contemporary evidence. But he was a student and a careful compiler from numerous works now lost. The number of passages in which he refers to matters directly or indirectly bearing on rustic life and labour is not large, and most of them have been cited in other chapters, where they find a place in connexion with the context. He can be dealt with very briefly here. The close connexion between wars and the supply of slaves is marked in the doings of Julius[1319] Caesar. Gaulish and British captives were (as Caesar himself records) no small part of the booty won in his northern campaigns. He rewarded his men after a victory with a prisoner apiece: these would soon be sold to the dealers who followed the army, and most of them would find their way to the Roman slave-market. To gratify friendly princes or provincial communities, he sent them large bodies of slaves as presents. So his victims served instead of cash to win adherents for their new master. And these natives of the North would certainly be used for heavy rough work, mostly as farm-hands. When Augustus, loth to enlarge the empire, felt constrained to teach restless tribes a lesson, he imposed a reserve-condition[1320] on the sale of prisoners taken: they were not to be employed in districts near their old homes, and not to be manumitted before thirty years. Most of these would probably also be brought to Italy for the same kind of service. Yet, as we have seen, there was kidnapping[1321] of freemen in Italy; probably a sign that slaves were already become dear. That their numbers had been reduced in the civil wars, not only by death but by manumission, is fairly certain. In the war with Sextus Pompeius it was found necessary[1322] to manumit 20,000 slaves to serve as oarsmen in the fleet. Suetonius also records that Augustus when emperor had trouble with the unwillingness of Romans to be called up for military duty. He had to deal sharply[1323] with an _eques_ who cut off the thumbs of his two sons to incapacitate them. The abuse of the public corn-doles was a grave evil. Men got rid of the burden of maintaining old slaves by manumitting them and so making them, as freedmen-citizens, entitled to a share of the doles. This was shifting the burden of feeding useless mouths on to the state. Augustus saw that the vast importation of corn for this bounty tended to discourage[1324] Italian agriculture, and thought of abolishing the whole system of _frumentationes_. But he had to give up the project, being convinced that the system would be restored. He really desired to revive agriculture, and it was surely with this aim that he advanced capital sums[1325] to landlords free of interest on good security for the principal. The growth of humane sentiment toward slaves is marked by the ordinance of Claudius[1326] against some very cruel practices of slaveowners. And we are reminded that penal servitude was now a regular institution in the Roman empire by Nero’s order[1327] for bringing prisoners from all parts to carry out some colossal works in Italy, and for fixing condemnation to hard labour as the normal penalty of crime. In the Lives of the three Flavian emperors there are one or two passages of interest. At this distance of time it is not easy to appreciate the effect on the sentiments of Roman society of the extinction of the Julio-Claudian house, and the accession of a thoroughly plebeian one, resting on the support of the army and readily accepted by the Provinces. Suetonius, like Tacitus, was near enough to the revolutionary year 69 AD to understand the momentous nature of the crises that brought Vespasian to the head of affairs. He takes pains to describe[1328] the descent of the new emperor from a Sabine family of no remarkable distinction. For two generations they had combined with fair success the common Roman professions of military service and finance. They were respectable people of good local standing. But there was another story relative to a generation further back. It was said that Vespasian’s greatgrandfather (this takes us back to Republican days) had been a contractor[1329] for rustic labour. He was a headman or ‘boss’ of working-parties such as are wont to pass year after year from Umbria into the Sabine country to serve as farm-labourers. Of this story Suetonius could not discover any confirmation. But that there had been, and perhaps still was, some such supply of migratory labour available, is a piece of evidence not to be ignored. Vespasian himself was a soldier who steadily rose in the usual official career till he reached the coveted post of governor of Africa. After a term of honest but undistinguished rule, he came back no richer than he went, indeed he was very nearly bankrupt. He was driven to mortgage all his landed estate, and to become for a time a slave-dealer[1330], in order to live in the style that his official rank required. The implied disgrace of resorting to a gainful but socially despised trade is at least evidence of the continual demand for human chattels. Of two acts of Domitian[1331], his futile ordinance to check vine-growing, and his grant of the remaining odd remnants of Italian land to present occupants, enough has been said above. It is not necessary to collect the numerous passages in writers of this period that illustrate the growing change of view as to slavery in general. The point made by moralists, that moral bondage is more degrading than physical (for the latter need not be really degrading), came with not less force from Epictetus the slave than from Seneca the noble Roman. It is however worth while just to note the frequent references to cases of philosophers and other distinguished literary men who had either actually been slaves or had at some time in their lives been forced to earn their daily bread by bodily labour. Such cases are, Cleanthes[1332] drawing water for wages, Plautus[1333] hired by the baker to grind at his mill, and Protagoras[1334] earning his living as a common porter. In one passage several slaves[1335] are enumerated who became philosophers. Now, what is the significance of these and other references of the same import? I suggest that they have just the same bearing as the general principles of common humanity argumentatively pressed by the Stoic and other schools of thought. The sermonizing of Seneca is a good specimen. But discussion of principles in the abstract was never the strong point of Roman society, and citation of concrete instances would serve to give reality to views that were only too often regarded as the visionary speculations of chattering Greeks. That Roman authors, down to the last age of Roman literature, expressed the longing for a more wholesome state of agriculture by everlasting references to Cincinnatus and the rest of the traditional rustic heroes, is another recognition of this method. The notion that courage and contempt of death could be fostered by the spectacle of gladiators rested on much the same basis. True, there is nothing in the above considerations that directly bears upon rustic labour as such: but hints that ‘a man’s a man for a’ that’ are not to be ignored when they make their appearance in the midst of a slave-holding society. XLV. APULEIUS. The Province of Africa was in this period a flourishing part of the empire, giving signs of its coming importance in the next generation, when it produced several emperors. It was in fact a sort of successor of Spain, and like Spain it enjoyed the advantage of not fronting on the usual seats of war to the North and East. One of the most remarkable literary figures of the age was the African[1336] =L Apuleius= of Madaura, who travelled widely as student and lecturer, and was well acquainted with Greece and Italy. A philosopher of the mystical-Platonist type, he was in touch with practical life through his study of the Law, and was for some time a pleader in Rome. His native Province[1337] was notoriously addicted to litigation, and a modern scholar[1338] has shewn that the works of Apuleius abound in legal phraseology and are coloured with juristic notions. Now, it was not possible to go far in considering property and rights without coming upon questions relative to land: moreover, he himself owned land in Africa. Accordingly we find in him some references to land, and even to rustic labour and conditions of rural life. And, though his _Metamorphoses_ is a fantastic romance, there is no reason to doubt that incidents and scenes (other than supernatural) are true to facts observed by the writer, and therefore admissible as evidence of a general kind. An instance may be found in the case of the ass, that is the hero of the story transformed into that shape by magic. He is to be sold, and the waggish auctioneer[1339] says to a possible bidder ‘I am well aware that it is a criminal offence to sell you a Roman citizen for a slave: but why not buy a good and trusty slave that will serve you as a helper both at home and abroad?’ Here we have a recognition of the fact of kidnapping, which is referred to elsewhere in the book; that in cases of Roman victims the law took a very serious view of the offence; while the point of the pleasantry lies in the circumstance that neither auctioneer nor company present are aware that the ass is a transformed man, liable to regain his human shape by magical disenchantment. The scene of the _Metamorphoses_ is laid in Greece, and the anecdotes included in it do not give us a favourable picture of that part of the Roman empire. There was surely nothing to tempt the writer to misrepresent the condition of the country by packing his descriptions with unreal details: he would thus have weakened the effect of his romance. Wealth in the hands of a few, surrounded by a pauper majority; shrunken towns, each with its more or less degraded rabble; general insecurity for life liberty and property; a cruel and arbitrary use of power; a spiritless acquiescence in this pitiful state of things, relieved by the excitements of superstition and obscenity: such was Roman Greece as Apuleius saw it. No doubt there was Roman Law to enforce honesty and order. But the administration of justice seldom, if ever, reaches the standard of legislation; and as yet the tendency of the Roman government was to interfere as little as possible with local authorities. Greece in particular had always been treated with special indulgence, in recognition of her glorious past. Whether the effects of this favour were conducive to the wellbeing of the country, may fairly be doubted. The insane vanity of Nero, masquerading as Liberator of Greece, had surely done more harm than good. Hadrian’s benefactions to Athens, dictated by sentimental antiquarianism, could not improve the general condition of the country, however satisfactory they might be to what was now an University town living on students and tourists. One of the first things that strikes a reader of this book is the matter-of-fact way in which brigandage[1340] is taken for granted. These robbers work in organized bands under chosen captains, have regular strongholds as bases of operations, draw recruits from the poverty-stricken peasantry or slaves, and do not hesitate to attack and plunder great mansions, relying on the cowardice or indifference (or perhaps treachery) of the rich owner’s slaves. Murder is to them a mere trifle, and their ingenuity in torturing is fiendish. No doubt their activities are somewhat exaggerated as a convenient part of the machinery of the story, but the lament of Plutarch and the Euboic idyll of Dion forbid us to regard these brigand-scenes as pure fiction. They are another side of the same picture of distressful Greece. Nor is the impression produced thereby at all weakened by a specimen of military[1341] insolence. Greece was not a Province in which a large army was kept, but all Governors had some armed force to support their authority. The story introduces the ass with his present owner, a gardener, on his back. They are met by a swaggering bully of a soldier, who inquires where they are going. He asks this in Latin. The gardener makes no reply, not knowing Latin. The angry soldier knocks him off the ass, and repeats his question in Greek. On being told that they are on their way to the nearest town, he seizes the ass on the pretext of being wanted for fatigue duty in the service of the Governor, and will listen to no entreaties. Just as he is preparing to break the gardener’s skull, the gardener trips him up and pounds him to some purpose. He shams dead, while the gardener hurries off and takes refuge with a friend in the town. The soldier follows, and stirs up his mates, who induce the local magistrates to take up the matter and give them satisfaction. The gardener’s retreat is betrayed by a neighbour, and clever concealment nullified by an indiscretion of the ass. The wretched gardener is found and haled off to prison awaiting execution, while the soldier takes possession of the ass. This story again is surely not grotesque and incredible fiction. More likely it is made up from details heard by the African during his sojourn in Greece. If scenes of this kind were possible, the outlook of humble rustics[1342] can hardly have been a cheerful one. That perils of robbers and military insolence were not the only troubles of the countryside, is shewn by the following anecdote[1343] describing the brutal encroachments of a big landlord on poorer neighbours. A landowner, apparently a man of moderate means, had three sons, well-educated and well-behaved youths, who were close friends of a poor man with a little cottage of his own. Bordering on this man’s little holding was the large and fertile landed estate belonging to a rich and powerful neighbour in the prime of life. This rich man, turning the fame of his ancestors to bad account, strong in the support of party cliques, in fact an autocrat[1344] within the jurisdiction of the town, was given to making raids on the poverty of his humble neighbour. He slaughtered his flocks, drove off his oxen, and trampled down his crops before they were ripe, till he had robbed him of all the fruit of his thrift. His next desire was to expel him altogether from his patch of soil: so he got up a baseless dispute over boundaries, and claimed the whole of the land as his own. The poor man, though diffident by nature, was bent upon keeping his hereditary ground if only for his own burial. The claim upset him greatly, and he entreated a number of his friends to attend at the settlement[1345] of boundaries. Among those present were the three brothers mentioned above, who came to do their little best in the cause of their injured friend. But the rich man, unabashed by the presence of a number of citizens, treated all efforts at conciliation with open contempt, and swore that he would order his slaves to pick the poor man up by the ears and chuck him ever so far from his cottage in less than no time. The bystanders were greatly incensed at this brutal utterance. One of the three brothers dared to say ‘It’s no good your bullying and threatening like this just because you are a man of influence; don’t forget that even poor[1346] men have found in the laws guarding freemen’s rights a protector against the outrages of the rich.’ Upon this the enraged tyrant let loose his ferocious dogs[1347] and set them on the company. A horrible scene followed. One of the three youths was torn to pieces, and the others also perished; one of them slain by the rich man himself, the other, after avenging his brother, by his own hand. The mere aggression of the rich landlord on the poor is interesting as adding another instance of the encroachments to the occurrence of which many other writers testify. The most remarkable feature of the story is the insolent disregard of the Law shewn by the rich man from first to last. That the governor of the Province could prevent or punish such outrages, if his attention were called to them, is not to be doubted. But he could not be everywhere at once, and it is not likely that many of the poorer class would be forward to report such doings and appear as accusers of influential persons. The rich probably sympathized with their own class, and a poor man shrank from a criminal prosecution that would in any event expose him to their vengeance afterwards. True, the poor were the majority. But it was a very old principle of Roman policy to entrust the effective control of municipalities to the burgesses of property, men who had something to lose and who, being a minority, would earn their local supremacy by a self-interested obedience to the central government. Thus local magnates (their evil day was not yet come) were left very much to their own devices, and most provincial governors cared too much for their own ease and comfort to display an inquisitive zeal. Moreover, so far as the rich thought it judicious to keep the poorer contented, it would be the town rabble that profited chiefly if not exclusively by their liberalities: the more isolated rustic was more liable to suffer from their land-proud greediness. We must picture them as overbearing and arbitrary slaveholders, practically uncontrolled; and the worst specimens among them as an ever-present terror to a cowed and indigent peasantry. We are not to suppose that things were as bad as this in all parts of Greece, but that there was little or nothing to prevent their becoming so, even in happier districts. From time immemorial the Greek tendency had been to congregate in towns, and after the early fall of the landowning aristocracies this tendency was strengthened by democratic movements. The country as a whole was never able to feed its population. But the population was now greatly reduced. Given due security, perhaps the rustics might now have been able to feed the towns. And that they were to some extent doing so may be inferred from the fact that the chief peasant figure in the rural life of the _Metamorphoses_ is the market-gardener[1348]. If he is but left in peace, he seems to be doing fairly well. It is natural at this point to inquire whether a _hortulanus_ might not also be a _colonus_, the former name connoting his occupation and the latter his legal position in relation to the land. Both terms often occur, but they seem to be quite distinct: I can find nothing to justify the application of both to the same person. And yet I cannot feel certain that Apuleius always means a tenant-farmer[1349] under a landlord whenever he uses the word _colonus_. Probably he does, as Norden seems to think. In any case the gardener is evidently in a smaller way of business than the average _colonus_, and it may be that his little scrap of land is his own. He certainly works[1350] with his own hands, and I find nothing to suggest that he is an employer of slaves, or that he himself is not free. That the tenant-farmers were often _coloni partiarii_, bound to deliver to their landlord a fixed share of their produce in kind, is highly probable. But this does not exclude the payment of money rents as well. Local usage probably varied in different districts. It is true that Apuleius several times[1351] uses _partiarius_ metaphorically, but this only shews his addiction to legal language, and is no proof of the prevalence of the share-system in Greece. The _coloni_, nominally free, were as yet only bound to the soil by the practical difficulty of clearing themselves from the obligations that encumbered them and checked freedom of movement. But they were now near to the time when they were made fixtures by law. Another work of Apuleius furnishes matter of interest, the so-called _Apologia_, a speech in his own defence when tried on a charge of magical arts about the year 158 AD. That the accused was in no little danger from this criminal prosecution has been shewn[1352] by Norden. What concerns us is the reference to rustic affairs that the speaker is led to make in the course of his argument, when demolishing some of the allegations of his enemies. The trial was in Africa at the regular provincial assize, and the conditions referred to are African. Apuleius, as a man of note in his native Province, takes high ground to manifest his confidence in the strength of his case. The prosecution want to draw him into an unseemly squabble over side-issues. As the chief alleged instance of his magic was connected with his marriage to a rich lady, a widow of mature age, whom he was said to have bewitched, being at the time a young man in need, it had evidently been thought necessary to discuss his financial position as throwing light upon his motives. If at the same time he could be represented as having acted in defiance of well-known laws, so much the better. If we may trust the bold refutation of Apuleius, they entangled themselves in a contradiction and betrayed their own blind malice. His reply[1353] is as follows. ‘Whether you keep slaves to cultivate your farm, or whether you have an arrangement with your neighbours for exchange[1354] of labour, I do not know and do not want to know. But you (profess to) know that at Oea, on the same day, I manumitted three slaves: this was one of the things you laid to my charge, and your counsel brought it up against me, though a moment before he had said that when I came to Oea I had with me but a single slave. Now, will you have the goodness to explain how, having but one, I could manumit three,—unless this too is an effect of magic. Was there ever such monstrous lying, whether from blindness or force of habit? He says, Apuleius brought one slave with him to Oea. Then, after babbling a few words, he adds that Apuleius manumitted three in one day at Oea. If he had said that I brought with me three, and granted freedom to them all, even that would not have deserved[1355] belief. But, suppose I had done so, what then? would not three freedmen be as sure a mark of wealth as three slaves of indigence?’ After this outburst the speaker is at pains to point out that to do with few slaves is a philosopher’s part, commended by examples not of philosophers only but of men famed in Roman history. The well-worn topic of the schools, that to need little is true riches, is set forth at large, with instances in illustration. He then asserts[1356] that he inherited a considerable property from his father, which has been much reduced by the cost of his journeys and expenses as a student and gifts to deserving friends. After this he turns upon his adversary. ‘But you and the men of your uneducated rustic class are worth just what your property is worth and no more, like trees that bear no fruit and are worth only the value of the timber in their stems. Henceforth you had better not taunt any man with his poverty. Your father left you nothing but a tiny farm at Zarat, and it is but the other day that you were taking the opportunity of a shower of rain to give it a good ploughing with the help of a single ass, and made it a three-days[1357] job. What has kept you on your legs is the quite recent windfalls of inheritances from kinsmen who died one after another.’ These personalities, in the true vein of ancient advocacy, do not tell us much, but it is interesting to note that the skilled pleader, a distinguished man of the world, quite naturally sneers at his opponent for having been a poor working farmer. Whether this was an especially effective taunt in the Province Africa, the home of great estates, it is hardly possible to guess. Of small farmers in Africa, working their own land, we have, probably by accident, hardly any other record. But the reference above, to neighbours taking turns to help one another on their farms, comes in so much as a matter of course that we may perhaps conclude that there were such small free farmers, at least in some parts of the Province. For slaves we need no special evidence. But the lady whom Apuleius had married seems to have been a large slaveowner as well as a large landowner. He declares that he with difficulty persuaded her to quiet the claims of her sons by making over to them a great part of her estate in land and other goods; and one item consists[1358] of 400 slaves. We have also a reference to _ergastula_ in a passage where he is protesting that to charge him with practising magic arts with the privity of fifteen slaves is on the face of it ridiculous[1359]. ‘Why, 15 free men make a community, 15 slaves make a household, and 15 chained ones a lock-up.’ I take these _vincti_ to be troublesome slaves, not debtors. Again, in refuting the suggestion that he had bewitched the lady, he states as proof of her sanity that at the very time when she is said to have been out of her mind she most intelligently audited and passed the accounts of her stewards[1360] and other head-servants on her estates. And in general it has been well said[1361] that Apuleius, with all his wide interest in all manner of things, did not feel driven to inquire into the right or wrong of slavery in itself. He took it as he found it in the Roman world of his day. That he had eyes to see some of its most obvious horrors, may be inferred from the description[1362] of the condition of slaves in a flour-mill, put into the mouth of the man-ass. But with the humanitarian movements of these times he shews no sympathy; and he can depict abominable scenes of cruelty and bestiality without any warmth of serious indignation. COMMODUS TO DIOCLETIAN XLVI. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. The death of Marcus Aurelius in 180 AD brings us to the beginning of a long period of troubles, in which the growing weakness of the empire was exposed, the principate-system of Augustus finally failed under the predominance of military power, and the imperial government was left to be reorganized by Diocletian on a more Oriental model. There is no doubt that during some hundred years the internal wellbeing of the Roman empire was being lowered, and that the parts most open to barbarian invasion suffered terribly. But the pressure of taxation to supply military needs bore heavily on all parts and impaired the vitality of the whole. Reactions there were now and then, when a strong man, or even a well-meaning one, became emperor and had a few years in which to combat present evils and for the moment check them. But the average duration of reigns was very brief; emperors were generally murdered or slain in battle; from 249 to 283 the chief function of an emperor was to lead his army against barbarian invaders. It is a remarkable fact that the first half of this unhappy century was the classical period of Roman jurisprudence. The important post of Praetorian Prefect, which began with a dignified military command and was more and more becoming the chief ministry of the Empire, was again and again held by eminent jurists. But in the long run the civil power could not stand against the jealousy of the military, and the murder of Ulpian in 228 practically ends the series of great lawyer-ministers, leaving the sword in undisputed control. The authorities for this century of troubles are meagre and unsatisfactory. With the help of contemporary inscriptions, modern writers are able to compose some sort of a history of the times, so far as public events and governmental activities are concerned. But the literature of private life, the source of our best evidence on agricultural labour, is for the time at an end, and the facts of farm life were not of the kind thought worthy of record in inscriptions. There is therefore nothing to be done but to glean the few scraps of information that in any way bear upon the condition of tillers of the soil in this period. They are as a rule of little value, and they come from writers of little authority. But it is something if they are of a piece with the general record of these unhappy times. Even the imperial biographies of Marius Maximus survive only in the meagre abstracts of later writers, and modern historians are quite unable to reconstruct any clear picture of the inner life of the period 180-284 AD owing to the lack of materials. The most significant piece of information relates to Pertinax. We are told[1363] that one of the useful reforms contemplated by him was the reclamation of waste lands throughout the empire. He ordained that any one might occupy derelict lands, even on the imperial estates: on careful cultivation thereof, the farmer was to become owner[1364]. For a space of ten years he was to be exempt from all taxation, and his ownership was to be guaranteed against future disturbance. This passage is good evidence of the decay of agriculture, agreeing with what we have learnt from other sources. But we cannot gather from it that the well-meant design had any practical effect. Pertinax was only emperor for the inside of three months, and could not realize his virtuous aspirations. About 80 years later we find Aurelian[1365] planning the development of waste lands in Etruria, and Probus[1366] giving allotments in the wilds of Isauria to his veterans as settlers with obligation of military service. There can be little doubt that the depopulation and decline of cultivation, made sadly manifest in the calamitous times of Marcus Aurelius, had never ceased to undermine the vital forces of the empire. How to fill up deserted lands, and make them productive of food and revenue, was the problem that every serious ruler had to face. And there was in fact only one resource available to meet the need. The native population of the empire, stationary at best, had been further reduced by pestilence and famine, and was not able to fill up the spaces laid waste by frontier wars. Hence the policy of bringing in masses of barbarians, adopted by Marcus, had to be repeated again and again. We must not confuse these settlements with the immigrations of conquering tribes that occurred later. Rome was still superior to her adversaries in military organization and skill, and under fairly equal conditions able to defeat them in pitched battles. Thus Claudius II gained great victories over the Goths, and the biographer[1367] tells us of the sequel. ‘The Roman provinces were filled with barbarian slaves and Scythian tillers of the soil. The Goth was turned into a settler on the barbarian frontier. There was not a single district but had some Gothic slave whose bondage attested the triumph.’ Here we seem to have the echo of a somewhat boastful contemporary version. The mention of both slaves and frontier colonists is to be noted. We have no statistics to guide us in an attempt to estimate the relative numbers of the two classes. But the settlement of defeated barbarians on the frontier as Roman subjects is clearly regarded as a worthy achievement. So indeed it might have been, had it been possible to civilize them as Romans, only profiting by the introduction of new blood. But this process was no longer possible: its opposite, the barbarizing of Roman lands, steadily went on. Claudius only reigned about two years. The great soldier who followed him in 270-5, Aurelian, had a plan for employing prisoners of war[1368] on the cultivation of waste lands in Italy itself, but we have no reason to think that much came of it. And the true state of things was confessed in his abandonment of Trajan’s great Province of Dacia. Aurelian withdrew[1369] the army and the provincials, whom he settled south of the Danube in Moesia; putting the best face he could on this retirement by giving Moesia the name of Dacia. These phenomena attest an obvious truth, sometimes ignored, that territorial expansion needs something more than military conquest to give it lasting effect. In order to hold conquered lands the conquerors must either occupy them or thoroughly assimilate the native population. Emperors in this period became aware that they could do neither. Alexander Severus (222-35) gained a great victory[1370] over the Persians and took a number of prisoners. It was a tradition of Persian kings not to let their subjects pass into foreign slavery, and Alexander allowed them to redeem these captives by a money payment. This he used partly in compensating the masters of those who had already passed into private ownership, and the rest he paid into the treasury. This conciliatory policy may have been wise. In any case the treasury was in this age chronically in need of ready money. But dealing with the great oriental monarchy was a simpler undertaking than that of dealing with the rude peoples of the North, who pressed on in tribal units, offering no central power with which to negotiate. Probus (276-82) seems to have been sorely troubled by their variety and independence of action. We hear that when operating in Thrace he settled 100,000 Bastarnae[1371] on Roman soil, and that all these kept faith with him. But he went on to transplant large bodies of Gepidae Gruthungi and Vandals. These all broke their faith. While Probus was busy putting down pretenders in other parts of the empire, they went on raiding expeditions at large by land and sea, defying and damaging the power of Rome. True, the emperor broke them by force of arms, and drove the remnant back to their wilds: but we can see what the biographer ignores, that such raids did mischief which the empire was in no condition to repair. What were the terms made with these barbarians, to which the Bastarnae faithfully adhered, we are not told. Probably the grant of lands carried with it the duty of furnishing recruits to Roman armies and accepting the command of Roman officers. In connexion with agricultural conditions we must not omit to notice the change that was passing over Roman armies. The straits to which Marcus had been reduced by the years of plague and losses in the field had compelled him to raise fresh troops by any means, enrolling slaves, hiring barbarian mercenaries, and so forth. With this miscellaneous force he just managed to hold his ground in the North. But the army never recovered its old tone. The period 180-284 shews it going from bad to worse. It is full of sectional jealousy and losing all sense of common imperial duty; only effective when some one strong man destroys his rivals and is for the moment supreme. The rise and fall of pretenders[1372] is a main topic of the imperial history. As from the foundation of the Empire, the numbers of the army were inadequate for defence against simultaneous attacks on several frontiers. The lack of cooperation among their enemies, and the mobility of Roman frontier armies, had sufficed to keep invaders at bay. But as pressure became more continuous it was more difficult to meet the needs of the moment by moving armies to and fro. More and more they took on the character of garrisons, their chief camps grew into towns, local recruits filled up their ranks, and they were less and less available for service as field-armies. But it was obviously necessary that the country round about their quarters should be under cultivation, in order to supply them with at least part of their food. It may safely be assumed that this department was carefully attended to in the formation of all these military stations. And it seems that under the new conditions one of the evils that had hitherto embarrassed the empire was gradually brought to an end. For the fact remains that, after all the wholesale waste of lives in the bloody wars of the third century, it was still possible to raise great and efficient armies. Reorganized by Diocletian and Constantine, the empire proved able to defend itself for many years yet, even in the West. The new system may have been oppressive to the civil population, but it certainly revived military strength. This could not have been achieved without an improvement in the supply of man-power. It has been maintained[1373] that this improvement was due to the permanent settlements of barbarians, mostly of German race, within the territories of the empire during the third century. Whether planted on the vacant lands as alien settlers (_inquilini_)[1374] on easy terms, but bound to provide recruits for the army, or enlisted from the first and settled in permanent stations, they were year by year raising large families and turning deserted border-lands into nurseries of imperial soldiers. This picture may be somewhat overdrawn, but it has the merit of accounting for the phenomena. Without some explanation of the kind it is very hard to understand how the empire came to survive at all. With it, the sequel appears natural and intelligible. These barbarians were so far Romanized as to be proud of becoming Romans: the empire was barbarized so far as to lend itself to institutions of a more and more un-Roman character, and to lose the remaining traditions of literature and art: and when ruder barbarians in the fifth century assailed the empire in the West they found the control of government already in the hands of kinsmen of their own. If we are to take the very meagre gleanings from the general records of this period and combine them with the information gathered from the African inscriptions referred to below, we can provisionally form some sort of notion of the various classes of labour employed on the land. First, there were _coloni_, freemen[1375] in the eye of the law, however much local conditions, or the terms of their tenancies and the tendency for tenancies to become hereditary, may have limited the practical use of their legal freedom. Secondly, there were, at least in some parts, protected occupants encouraged to turn to account parcels of land that had for some reason or other lain idle. Thirdly, there were also rustic slaves who did most of the work on large farms. The stipulated services of tenants[1376] at certain seasons to some extent supplemented their labour, at least in some parts: and the falling supply of slaves tended to make such auxiliary services more important. For the value of agricultural land depends mainly on the available supply of labour. Fourthly, chiefly if not entirely in the northern Provinces, a number of barbarians had been planted upon Roman soil. Some entered peacefully and settled down as willing subjects of the empire on vacant lands assigned to them. Some had surrendered after defeat in battle, and came in as prisoners. But, instead of making them rustic slaves on the old model, Marcus had found a new and better use for them. A new status, that of _inquilini_[1377] or ‘alien denizens’ was created, inferior to that of free _coloni_ but above that of slaves. They seem to have been generally left to cultivate plots of land, paying a share of the produce, and to have been attached to the soil, grouped under Roman landlords or chief-tenants. They had their wives and families, and their sons recruited Roman armies. Lastly, we have no right to assume that small cultivating owners[1378] were wholly extinct, though there can hardly have been many of them. We have an account[1379] of the rising in Africa (238 AD) which, so far as it goes, gives us a little light on the agricultural situation there in the middle of this period. The barbarian emperor Maximin was represented in the Province by a _procurator fisci_ whose oppressions provoked a conspiracy against him. Some young men of good and wealthy families drew together a number of persons who had suffered wrong. They ordered their slaves[1380] from the farms to assemble with clubs and axes. In obedience[1381] to their masters’ orders they gathered in the town before daybreak, and formed a great mob. For Africa is naturally a populous[1382] country; so the tillers of the soil were numerous. After dawn the young leaders told the mass of the slaves to follow them as being a section of the general throng: they were to conceal their weapons for the present, but valiantly to resist any attack on their masters. The latter then met the procurator and assassinated him. Hereupon his guards drew their swords meaning to avenge the murder, but the countrymen in support of their masters[1383] fell upon them with their rustic weapons and easily routed them. After this the young leaders, having gone too far to draw back, openly rebelled against Maximin and proclaimed the proconsul Gordian Roman emperor. In this passage we have before us young men of landlord families, apparently holding large estates and working them with slave labour. They are evidently on good terms with their slaves. Of tenant farmers there is no mention: but there is a general reference to support given by other persons, already wronged or afraid of suffering wrong. The Latin biographer[1384], who drew from Herodian, speaks of the murder as the work of ‘the rustic common folk[1385] and certain soldiers.’ Now Frontinus[1386], writing in the latter part of the first century AD, tells us that in Africa on their great estates individuals had ‘a considerable population[1387] of common folk.’ The language can hardly refer to slaves: and a reference to levying recruits[1388] for the army plainly forbids such an interpretation. But it does not imply that there were no slaves employed on those great estates; the writer is not thinking of the free-or-slave labour question. In regard to the writers who record this particular episode, are we to suppose that by ‘slaves’ Herodian loosely means _coloni_? Surely not. Then does Capitolinus by ‘rustic common folk’ mean slaves? I cannot believe it. More probably the writer, contemporary with Diocletian and Constantine, uses a loose expression without any precise meaning. If we are to attempt any inference from the language of Herodian, we must accept him as a witness that in Africa, or at least in parts of Africa, agriculture was still being carried on by slave labour. This does not exclude the existence of a small-tenancy system side by side with it. And the state of things disclosed[1389] in the African inscriptions referred to above is consistent with both systems: for that the manor-farm on a great estate employed a slave staff for its regular operations, and drew from tenants’ services only the help needed at certain seasons, seems the only possible conclusion from the evidence. Therefore, while agreeing with Heisterbergk[1390] that the narrative of Herodian shews the populousness of Africa, we need not go so far as to ignore the fact of a considerable farm-slave element in the Province. Meanwhile there are signs that rural Italy was suffering from the disorders and insecurity that had so often hindered the prosperity of agriculture. Even under the strong reign of Severus, with a larger standing army in Italy than ever before, a daring brigand[1391] remained at large for two years and was only captured by treachery. Though we do not hear of his attacking farmers directly, such a disturbance must have been bad for all country folk. That he black-mailed them is probable: that they were plundered and maltreated by the licentious soldiery employed against him, is as nearly certain as can be from what we know of the soldiery of this time. XLVII. THE AFRICAN INSCRIPTIONS. Certain inscriptions[1392] from the Roman Province of Africa, dating from the second and third centuries AD or at least referring to matters of that period, throw some light upon the management of great imperial domains in that part of the world. To discuss these in full one by one would be beyond the scope of this work, and would require several chapters of intolerable length. I shall content myself with giving a short account of each case, confined to those details which have direct bearing on my subject and which can be gathered with reasonable certainty from the often mutilated texts. French and German savants have contributed freely to the deciphering and interpretation, with happy results: but some of the proposed ‘restorations’ are much too bold to serve as a basis for further argument. After the details, I purpose to consider the points common to these interesting cases, and their place in the history of agriculture and agricultural labour under the earlier Roman Empire, say from Trajan to Severus. (1) The inscription of Henschir Mettich[1393] belongs to the year 116-7 AD, at the end of Trajan’s reign. It deals with a domain called _fundus villae magnae Variani_, and does not refer to it by the term _saltus_ at all. There is no reference to arrears of rent, the _reliqua colonorum_ of which we often hear in the jurists and other writers. Indeed there is no mention of money-rents, unless we reckon as such the little dues (4 _as_ per head) payable for grazing stock on the common pasture. The _coloni_ are _partiarii_, paying certain shares (generally ⅓) of their yearly produce as rent. These are paid, not to an imperial official but to the lords or head-tenants of the estate (_dominis aut conductoribus eius fundi_) or to their stewards (_vilicis_). It seems certain therefore that it was the chief tenants who were responsible to the imperial treasury for the amounts annually due, and that upon them rested the troublesome duty of collection. That this charge was a new one, laid upon them by Trajan, is perhaps possible, but hardly probable. For this statute regulating the domain (a _lex data_) is expressly declared to be modelled on a _lex Manciana_[1394], which can hardly be other than a set of regulations issued by a former owner of the estate, and adopted with modifications by the imperial agents (_procuratores_) specially appointed to organize it as an imperial domain. In Roman practice it was usual to follow convenient precedents. How long the estate had become Crown-property, and by what process, inheritance purchase confiscation etc, we do not know. Nor is it certain whether the new statute was prepared as a matter of course on the cessation of private ownership, or whether it was issued in response to an appeal to the emperor complaining of oppressive exactions on the part of the head-tenants. But of the latter situation there is no sign, and I am inclined to accept the former alternative. In that case it appears necessary to suppose that the system of letting a great estate to one or a few great lessees, who might and did sublet parcels to small tenant farmers, was not unknown in the practice of great private landlords. This may well have been the case in Africa, still populous and prosperous, though such a system never took root in depopulated and failing Italy. It required willingness on the part of men of substance to risk their capital in a speculation that could only succeed if good sub-tenants were to be found. This condition could not be fulfilled in Italy, but in Africa things were very different. It is however easier to note this difference by unmistakeable signs than to ascertain it in detail. One point is clear. The _coloni_ on this domain were bound to render fixed services to the head-tenants at certain seasons of the year. These services consisted of two days’ work (_operas binas_) at the times of ploughing hoeing and harvest, six in all. The falling-off in the supply of slaves, despite occasional captures of prisoners in war, was a consequence of the _pax Romana_, and how to provide sufficient labour was a standing problem of agriculture. The guarantee of extra labour at seasons of pressure was doubtless a main consideration with speculators in inducing them to venture their substance by becoming lessees of large tracts of land. Of hired labour available for the purpose the statute gives no hint, nor is it likely that such labourers were to be found in Africa. Thus the _colonus_, and perhaps his whole household, were bound to certain compulsory services, and thereby made part of an organization strictly regulated and liable to further regulation. Further regulation was not likely to give the peasant farmer more freedom of movement, since the leading motive of the system was to secure continuous cultivation, and this could best be secured by long tenancies, tending to become hereditary. Therefore this statute offers various inducements to keep the peasant contentedly engaged in bettering his own position by developing the estate. The head-tenants are strictly forbidden to oppress him by exacting larger shares of produce or more _operae_ than are allowed by the regulations. He is encouraged to cultivate parcels of waste land, not included in his farm, by various privileges: in particular, a term of rent-free years is guaranteed to him in case he plants the land with fruit trees. This term, varying from five to ten years according to species of trees, is meant to give him time to get a taste of profit before he becomes liable to rent: its effect in making him loth to move is obvious. The statute tells us nothing on another important point. From the jurists and other sources[1395] we know that in Italy it was normally the custom for the stock of a farm let to a _colonus_ to be found for the most part by the landlord. It was held[1396] that in taking over this _instrumentum_ at a valuation the tenant virtually purchased it, of course not paying for it in ready money, but standing bound to account for the amount on quitting the tenancy. Thus a small man was left free to employ his own little capital in the actual working of the farm. He could add to the stock, and his additions gave to the landlord a further security for his rent, over and above that given by the sureties usually required. What stock was found by landlords, and what by tenant, was a matter for agreement generally following local convention. But on this African domain we are not told how the question of _instrumentum_ was settled. Probably there was a traditional rule so well established that no reference to the point in the statute seemed necessary. The sole landlord was now the emperor. Without some direct evidence to that effect, I can hardly suppose that the provision of farm stock was entrusted to his _procuratores_. On the other hand, if the chief tenants, the _conductores_, were expected to undertake this business, as if they had been landlords, this too seems to call for direct evidence. Possibly the need of finding stock for an African peasant farmer was not so pressing as in Italy: still some equipment was surely required. How it was provided, seems to me a question for answering which we have not as yet sufficient materials. But it may be that on these domains the practical necessity for dealing with it seldom occurred. If, when the formal term of a tenancy expired, the same tenant stayed on either by tacit renewal (_reconductio_) or by grant of a new lease, the stock originally supplied would surely remain for use on the farm, upkeep and renewals of particular articles being of course allowed for. If a farmer’s son succeeded him as tenant, the situation would be the same, or very nearly so. Therefore the manifest desire of emperors to keep tenants in permanence probably operated to minimize questions of _instrumentum_ to the point of practical insignificance. That the _coloni_ on this estate were themselves handworkers can hardly be doubted. The _operae_ required of them suggest this on any natural interpretation. But there is nothing to shew that they did not employ[1397] slave labour—if and when they could get it. We are not to assume that they were all on one dead level of poverty. That the head-tenants kept slaves to work those parts of the domain that they farmed for their own account, is indicated by the mention of their _vilici_, and made certain by the small amount of supplementary labour guaranteed them in the form of tenants’ _operae_. Only one direct mention of slaves (_servis dominicis_) occurs in the inscription, and the text is in that place badly mutilated. Partly for the same defect, it seems necessary to avoid discussing certain other details, such as the position of the _stipendiarii_ of whom we hear in a broken passage. Nor do I venture to draw confident inferences from the references to _inquilini_ or _coloni inquilini_, or to discover an important distinction between the tenants who actually resided on the estate and those who did not. It may be right to infer a class of small proprietors dwelling around on the skirts of the great domain and hiring parcels of land within it. It may be right to regard the _inquilini_ as _coloni_ transplanted from abroad and made residents on the estate. But until such conclusions are more surely established it is safer to refrain from building upon them. The general effect of this document is to give us outlines of a system of imperial ‘peculiars,’ that is of domains on which order and security, necessary for the successful working and continuous cultivation, were not left to the operation of the ordinary law, but guaranteed in each case by what we may call an imperial by-law. (2) The inscription of Souk el Khmis[1398] deals with circumstances between 180 and 183 AD. The rescript of Commodus, and the appeal to which it was the answer, are recorded in it. The imperial estate to which it refers is called _saltus Burunitanus_. A single _conductor_ appears to have been the lessee of the whole estate, and it was against his unlawful exactions that the _coloni_ appealed. Through the connivance of the responsible _procurator_ (corruptly obtained, the _coloni_ hint,) this tyrant had compelled them to pay larger shares of produce than were rightly due, and also to render services of men and beasts beyond the amount fixed by statute. This abuse had existed on the estate for some time, but the proceedings of the present _conductor_ had made it past all bearing. Evidently there had been some resistance, but official favour had enabled him to employ military force in suppressing it. Violence had been freely used: some persons had been arrested and imprisoned or otherwise maltreated; others had been severely beaten, among them even Roman citizens. Hence the appeal. It is to be noted that the appellants in no way dispute their liability to pay shares of produce (_partes agrarias_) or to render labour-services at the usual seasons of pressure (_operarum praebitionem iugorumve_). They refer to a clause in a _lex Hadriana_, regulating these dues. It is against the exaction of more than this statute allows that they venture to protest. They judiciously point out to the emperor that such doings are injurious to the financial interest[1399] of his treasury (_in perniciem rationum tuarum_), that is, they will end by ruining the estate as a source of steady revenue. The officials of the central department in Rome were evidently of the same opinion, for the rescript of Commodus[1400] plainly ordered his _procuratores_ to follow closely the rules and policy applicable to the domains, permitting no exactions in transgression of the standing regulations (_contra perpetuam formam_). In short, he reaffirmed the statute of Hadrian. In this document also we hear nothing of tenants’ arrears or of money-rents. Naturally enough, for the _coloni_ are _partiarii_ whose rent is a share of produce. In connexion with such tenants the difficulty[1401] of _reliqua_ does not easily arise. They are labouring peasants, who describe themselves as _homines rustici tenues manuum nostrarum operis victum tolerantes_. Of course they are posing as injured innocents. Perhaps they were: at any rate the great officials in Rome would look kindly on humble peasants who only asked protection in order to go on unmolested, producing the food which it was their duty to produce,—food, by the by, of the need of which the Roman mob was a standing reminder. Of _vilici_ or ordinary slaves this document says nothing, for it had no need to do so; but the right to _operae_ at certain seasons implies slave labour on the head-tenant’s own farm, probably attached to the chief _villa_ or _palatium_. In a notable phrase at the end of their appeal the _coloni_ speak of themselves[1402] as ‘your peasants, home-bred slaves and foster-children of your domains’ (_rustici tui vernulae et alumni saltuum tuorum_). Surely this implies, not only that they are _coloni Caesaris_, standing in a direct relation to the emperor whose protection[1403] they implore against the _conductores agrorum fiscalium_; but also that their connexion with the estate is an old-established one, passing from fathers to sons, a hereditary tie which they have at present no wish to see broken. In this case the circumstances that led to the setting-up of the inscription are clear enough. Evidently the appeal represented a great effort, both in the way of organizing concerted action on the part of the peasant farmers, and in overcoming the hindrances to its presentation which would be created by the interested ingenuity of those whose acts were thereby called in question. The imperial officials in the Provinces were often secretly in league with those in authority at Rome, and to have procured an imperial rescript in favour of the appellants was a great triumph, perhaps a rare one. The _forma perpetua_ containing the regulations governing the estate was, we learn, already posted up on a bronze tablet. It had been disregarded: and now it was an obvious precaution to record that the emperor had ordered those regulations to be observed in future. How long the effect of this rescript lasted we are left to guess. Officials changed, and reaffirmation of principles could not guarantee permanent reform of practice. Still, the policy of the central bureau, when not warped by corrupt influence, was consistent and clear. To keep these imperial ‘peculiars’ on such a footing as to insure steady returns was an undoubted need: and, after the extreme strain on the resources of the empire imposed by the calamitous times of Marcus, it was in the reign of Commodus a greater need than ever. (3) The Gazr Mezuâr inscription[1404], very fragmentary and in some points variously interpreted, belongs to the same period (181 AD). A few details seem sufficiently certain to be of use here. The estate in question is imperial property, apparently one of the domanial units revealed to us by these African documents. It seems to record another case of appeal against unlawful exaction of _operae_, probably by a _conductor_ or _conductores_. It also was successful. But it is notable that the lawful amount of _operae_ to be rendered by _coloni_ on this estate was just double of that fixed in the other cases—four at each of the seasons of pressure, twelve in all. We can only infer that the task-scale varied on various estates for reasons unknown to us. One fragment, if a probable restoration[1405] is to be accepted, conveys the impression of a despairing threat on the part of the appellants. It suggests that on failure of redress they may be driven to return to their homes where they can make their abode in freedom. On the face of it, this is an assertion of freedom of movement, a valuable piece of evidence, if it can be trusted. We may safely go so far as to note that it is at least not inconsistent with other indications pointing to the same conclusion. We may even remark that the suggestion of going home in search of freedom agrees better with the notion that these _coloni_ were African natives than with the supposition of their Italian origin. The Roman citizens on the Burunitan estate will not support the latter view, for they are mentioned as exceptional. Seeck (rightly, I think,) urges that Italy was in sore need of men and had none to spare for populous Africa. I would add that the emigration of Italians to the Provinces as working farmers seems to require more proof than has yet been produced. As officials, as traders, as financiers and petty usurers, as exploiters of other men’s labour, they abounded in the subject countries; but, so far as I can learn, not as labourers. Many of them no doubt held landed estates, for instance in the southern parts of Spain and Gaul. But when we meet with loose general expressions[1406] such as ‘The Roman is dwelling in every land that he has conquered,’ we must not let them tempt us into overestimating the number of Italian settlers taking an active part in the operations of provincial agriculture. (4) The inscription of Ain Ouassel[1407] belongs to the end of the reign of Severus. The text is much broken, but information of no small importance can be gathered from what remains. Severus was himself a native of Africa, and may have taken a personal interest in the subject of this ordinance. In point of form the document chiefly consists of a quoted communication (_sermo_) from the emperor’s _procuratores_[1408], one of whom, a freedman, saw to its publication in an inscription on an _ara legis divi Hadriani_. A copy of the _lex Hadriana_, or at least the relevant clauses thereof, was included. The matter on which the emperor’s decision is announced was the question of the right to occupy and cultivate rough lands (_rudes agri_)[1409], which are defined as lands either simply waste or such as the _conductores_ have neglected to cultivate for at least ten years preceding. These lands are included in no less than five different _saltus_ mentioned by proper names, and the scope of the ordinance is wider than in the cases referred to above. It appears that, while it may have contained some modifications or extensions of the provisions of the _lex Hadriana_, its main bearing was to reaffirm and apply the privileges granted by that statute. It is not rash to infer that we have here evidence of a set of regulations for all or many of the African domains, forming a part of Hadrian’s great work of reorganization. If the remaining words of this inscription are rightly interpreted, as I think they are, it seems that the policy of encouraging the cultivation of waste and derelict lands was at this time being revived by the government. We have seen it at work in Trajan’s time, promoted by guarantee of privileges and temporary exemption from burdens. But the persons then encouraged to undertake the work of reclamation were to all appearance only the _coloni_ at the time resident on the estate. In the case of these five _saltus_, the offer seems to be made more widely, at least so far as the remaining text may justify such conclusions. It reads like an attempt to attract enterprising squatters of any kind from any quarter. They are offered not merely undisturbed occupation and a heritable tenure of some sort, but actual _possessio_. Now this right, which fills a whole important chapter in Roman law, was one protected by special legal remedies, and even on an imperial domain can hardly have been a matter of indifference. It was quite distinct from mere _possessio naturalis_[1410], which was all that the ordinary _colonus_ enjoyed on his own behalf. This new-type squatter is allowed the same privilege of so many years of grace, free of rent, at the outset of his enterprise, that we have noted above. The details are somewhat different. For olives the free term is ten years: for fruit trees (_poma_, here mentioned without reference to vines) it is seven years. It is expressly provided that the _divisio_, which implies the partiary system of tenancy, shall apply only to such _poma_ as are actually brought[1411] to market. This suggests that in the past attempts to levy the quota as a proportional share of the gross crop, without regard to the needs of the grower’s own household, had been found to discourage reclamation. It has been pointed out that the effect of the new policy would be to create a sort of perpetual leasehold, similar to that known by the Greek term _emphyteusis_, which is found fully established in the later empire. But the land was not all under fruit-crops. The disposal of corn crops is regulated in a singular clause thus. ‘Any shares of dry[1412] crops that shall be due are, during the first five years of occupation, to be delivered to the head-tenant within whose holding[1413] the land occupied is situate. After the lapse of that time they are to go to the account (of the Treasury[1414]).’ Why is the _conductor_ to receive these _partes aridae_? It is reasonably suggested that the intention was to obviate initial obstruction on the part of the big lessee, and thus to give the reclamation-project a fair start. For we have no right to assume that the parcels of land thrown open to occupation had hitherto been included[1415] in no tenancy. The whole import of the document shews that they often belonged to this or that area held by one or other of the big lessees. That there was at least one _conductor_ to each of the five _saltus_ seems certain. That there was only one to each, is perhaps probable, but hardly to be gathered from the text. Now, so long as the _conductor_ regularly paid his fixed rent (_canon_) and accounted for the taxes (_tributa_) due from the estate, why should the imperial authority step in to take pieces of land (and that the poorest land) out of his direct control? The answer to this is that the Roman law[1416] recognized the right of a private landlord to require of his tenants that they should not ‘let down’ the land leased to them: and proof of neglected cultivation might operate to bar a tenant’s claim for abatement of rent. What was the right of an ordinary landlord was not likely to be waived by an emperor: though his domains might be administered in fact by a special set of fiscal regulations, he claimed a right analogous to that recognized by the ordinary law, and none could challenge its exercise. A big lessee might often find that parts of his holding could not be cultivated at a profit under existing conditions. Slave labour was careless and inefficient; it was in these times also costly, so costly that it only paid to employ it on generous soils. The task-work of _coloni_ did not amount to much, and it was no doubt rendered grudgingly. He was tempted to economize in slaves[1417] and to employ his reduced staff on the best land only. We need not suppose that he got an abatement of his fixed rent from the fiscal authorities: he was most unlikely to attract their attention by making such a claim. He had made his bargain with eyes presumably open. That he had agreed to the _canon_ assures us that it must have been low enough to leave him a comfortable margin for profit. We may be fairly sure that he sat quiet and did what seemed to pay him best. In the remaining text of this statute there is no reference to _operae_ due from the new squatters, and nothing is said of _coloni_. This does not seem to be due to injury of the stone. The persons for whose benefit the statute is enacted are apparently a new or newly recognized element[1418] in the population of these domains, not _coloni_. But the rights offered to them are expressly referred to as rights granted by the statute of Hadrian. If so, then the _lex Hadriana_ contemplated the establishment of a new peasant class, not _coloni_, and the present statute was merely a revival of Hadrian’s scheme. The men are eventually to pay shares of crops, and Schulten’s[1419] view, that they are on the way to become _coloni_, is possible, if not probable. When he remarks that they might find the position of _coloni_ a doubtful boon, we need not challenge his opinion. (5) The inscription of Ain el Djemala[1420], a later discovery (1906) is of special importance as belonging to the same neighbourhood as the preceding one. It is a document of Hadrian’s time. It refers to the same group of estates as the above, and deals with the same matter, the right to cultivate waste or derelict parcels of land. Indeed the connexion of the two inscriptions is so close that the parts preserved of each can be safely used to fill gaps in the text of the other. In a few points this inscription, the earlier in date, supplies further detail. The most notable is that another estate, a _saltus_ or _fundus Neronianus_, is mentioned in it, and not in the later one. Thus it would seem that it referred to six estates, a curious coincidence, when we recall the six great African landlords made away with by Nero. Another little addition is that waste lands are defined as marshy or wooded. Also that the land is spoken of as fit for growing olives vines and corn-crops, which supplements a mutilated portion of the Ain Ouassel stone. But in one point the difference between the two is on the face of it difficult to reconcile. In addressing the imperial _procuratores_ the applicants base their request on the _lex Manciana_, the benefit of which they seek to enjoy[1421] as used on the neighbouring _saltus Neronianus_. Here the broken text is thought to have contained a reference to the enhanced prosperity of that estate owing to the concession. In any case we may fairly conclude that the _lex Manciana_ was well known in the district, and its regulations regarded by the farmers as favourable to their interests. But the reply to their petition does not refer to it as the immediate basis of the decision given. The communication (_sermo_) of Hadrian’s procurators is cited as the ground of the leave granted for cultivation of waste lands. Yet the broken sentence at the end of the inscription seems at least to shew that the rules of the _lex Manciana_ were still recognized as a standard, confirmed and perhaps incorporated, or referred to by name, in the _lex Hadriana_ itself. It is ingeniously suggested that the farmers rest their case on the _Manciana_ because the _Hadriana_ was as yet unknown to them; while the reply refers to Hadrian’s statute as authority. Whether the _saltus_ or _fundus Neronianus_, on which the Mancian regulations were in force, is another estate-unit similar to the five named both here and in the later inscription, is a point on which I have some doubts, too little connected with my subject for discussion here. The general scope of the concession granted by Hadrian is the same as the later one of Severus. If Hadrian issued a statute or statutes regulating the terms of occupancy on the African domains, and some attempts to evade it were met by its reaffirmation under Commodus, it is quite natural that neglect or evasion of it in some other respects should be met by reaffirmation under Severus. This consideration will account for the identity of the concessions granted in these two inscriptions. And it agrees perfectly with the evidence of later legislation in the Theodosian code. The normal course of events is, legislation to protect the poorer classes of cultivators, then evasion of the law by the selfish rich, then reenactment of evaded laws, generally with increased penalties. That under the administrative system of the domains much the same phenomena should occur, is only what we might expect. XLVIII. DISCUSSION OF THE ABOVE INSCRIPTIONS. In reviewing the state of things revealed to us by these inscriptions we must carefully bear in mind that they relate solely to the Province Africa. Conditions there were in many ways exceptional. When Rome took over this territory after the destruction of Carthage in 146 BC, it was probably a country divided for the most part into great estates worked on the Carthaginian system by slave labour. Gradually the land came more and more into the hands of Roman capitalists, to whose opulence Horace refers. Pliny tells us that in Nero’s time six[1422] great landlords possessed half the entire area of the Province, when that emperor found a pretext for putting them to death and confiscating their estates. Henceforth the ruling emperor was the predominating landlord[1423] in a Province of immense importance, in particular as a chief granary of Rome. We are not to suppose that any change in the system of large units was ever contemplated. Punic traditions, probably based on experience, favoured the system; though the Punic language, still spoken, seems to have been chiefly confined to the seaboard districts. What the change of lordship effected was not only to the financial advantage of the imperial treasury: it also put an end to the creation of what were a sort of little principalities that might some day cause serious trouble. At this point we are tempted to wonder whether the great landlords, before the sweeping measure of Nero, had taken any steps towards introducing a new organization in the management of their estates. Trajan’s statute refers to a _lex Manciana_ and adopts a number of its regulations. These regulations clearly contemplate a system of head-tenants and sub-tenants, of whom the latter seem to be actual working farmers living of the labour of their own hands, as those who some 65 years later described themselves in appealing to Commodus. The former have stewards in charge of the cultivation of the ‘manor farms’ attached to the principal farmsteads, and evidently employ gangs of slaves: but at special seasons have a right to a limited amount[1424] of task-labour from the free sub-tenants of the small farms. That these labour-conditions were devised to meet a difficulty in procuring enough slaves to carry on the cultivation of the whole big estate, is an inference hardly to be resisted. That we find it on more than one estate indicates that for the time it was serving its purpose. But, in admitting that it probably began under the rule of great private landlords, we must not lose sight of the fact that it was liable to grievous abuse, and that even the regulations of Hadrian did not remove the necessity of pitiful appeals for redress. An important characteristic of these estates was that they were outside the municipal[1425] system. Each of the so-called _civitates_ had its own charter or statute (_lex_) conforming more or less closely to a common[1426] model, under which the municipal authorities could regulate the management of lands within its territory. But these great estates were independent[1427] of such local jurisdictions. And this independence would seem to date from the times of private ownership, before the conversion of many of them into imperial domains. Mommsen thought that this separate treatment of them as ‘peculiars’ began in Italy under the Republic, and was due to the influence of the landowning aristocracy, who were bent upon admitting no such concurrent authority on their _latifundia_. This may have been so, and the extension of large-scale possessions to the Provinces may have carried the system abroad. At all events there it was, and it suited the convenience of a grasping emperor: he had only to get rid of the present possessor and carry on the administration of the domain as before: his agents stepped into the place of those employed by the late landlord, and only slight modification of the current regulations would be required. He issued a statute for management of ‘crown-property’ as he would for a municipality. It was in effect a local law, and it does not appear that the common law administered by the ordinary courts could override it. The imperial _procurator_ was practically the magistrate charged with its administration in addition to his financial duties, for government and extraction of revenue were really two sides of the same function. Obviously the interests of the emperor, of his agent, of the head-tenants, and of the peasant cultivators, were not the same. But the peasant, who wanted to pay as little as possible, and the emperor who wanted to receive steady returns—as large as possible, but above all things steady—had a common interest in preventing unlawful exactions, by which a stable income was imperilled and the prosperity of the cultivator impaired. On the other hand the _procurator_ and the _conductor_ could only make illicit profits through combining to rob the emperor by squeezing his _coloni_. How to accomplish this was no doubt a matter of delicate calculation. How much oppression would the _coloni_ stand without resorting to the troublesome and risky process of an appeal? We only hear of one or two appeals made with success. Of those that were made and rejected or foiled by various arts, and of those abandoned in despair at an early stage, we get no record. Yet that such cases did occur, perhaps not seldom, we may be reasonably sure. It is well to remember that Columella, in whose treatise letting of farms to tenants first appears, not as an occasional expedient but as part of a reasoned scheme of estate-management, makes provision for a _procurator_[1428] as well as a _vilicus_. One duty of the former is to keep an eye on the latter. In the management of great estates an atmosphere of mistrust is perhaps to some extent unavoidable. In an agricultural system based on slave labour, this mistrust begins at the very bottom of the structure and reaches to the very top, as is shewn by all experience ancient and modern. Industry in slaves, diligence and honesty in agents and stewards, are not to be relied on when these subordinates have no share in the profit derived from the practice of such virtues. And mistrust of slaves and freedmen did not imply a simple trust in free tenants. Columella only advises[1429] letting to tenants in circumstances that make it impracticable to cultivate profitably by a slave-staff under a steward. The plan is a sort of last resort, and it can only work well if the tenants stay on continuously. Therefore care should be taken to make the position of the _coloni_ permanently attractive. This advice is primarily designed for Italy, but its principles are of general application, and no doubt justified by experience. Their extension to _latifundia_ abroad, coupled with a falling-off in the supply of slaves, led to similar results: great estates might still be in part worked by slave labour under stewards, but letting parcels to small tenants became a more and more vital feature of the system. But to deal directly from a distance with a number of such peasant farmers would be a troublesome business. We need not wonder that it became customary to let large blocks of land, even whole _latifundia_, to big lessees, speculative men who undertook the subletting and rent-collecting of part of their holdings, while they could work the central manor-farm by slave labour on their own account, and generally exploit the situation for their own profit. Thus, as once the _latifundium_ had absorbed little properties, so now its subdivision was generating little tenancies, with chief-tenants as a sort of middlemen between the _dominus_ and the _coloni_. To protect the _colonus_, the powers of the _conductor_[1430] had to be strictly limited: to ease the labour-problem and retain the _conductor_, a certain amount of task-work had to be required of the _colonus_. And this last condition was ominous of the coming serfdom. If the economic situation and the convenience of non-resident landlords operated to produce a widespread system of letting to small tenants, it was naturally an object to levy the rents in such a form as would best secure a safe and regular return. To exact a fixed money-rent would mean that the peasant must spend time in marketing his produce in order to procure the necessary cash, and thereby lessen the time spent in actual farm-labour. In bad years he would look for an abatement of his rent, nor would it be easy to satisfy him: here was material for disputes and discontent. Such difficulties were known in Italy and elsewhere, and jurists recognized[1431] an advantage of the ‘partiary’ system in this connexion. An abatement of rent due in a particular year need not imply that the landlord lost the amount of abatement for good and all. If the next year produced a ‘bumper’ crop, the landlord was entitled to claim restitution of last year’s abatement in addition to the yearly rent. This too, it seems, in the case of a tenant sitting at a fixed money-rent. But the _partiarius colonus_ is on another footing: he shares gain and loss with the _dominus_, with whom he is a quasi-partner[1432]. It was surely considerations of this kind that led to the adoption of the share-rent system on these great African estates. By fixing the proportion on a moderate scale, the peasant was fairly certain to be able to pay his rent, and he would not be harassed with money transactions dependent on the fluctuations in the price of corn. Under such conditions he was more likely to be contented and to stay on where he was, and that this should be so was precisely what the landlord desired. On the other hand the big _conductor_ might pay rent either in coin or kind. He was a speculator, doubtless well able to take care of his own interests: probably the normal case was that he agreed to a fixed cash payment, and only took the lease on terms that left him a good prospect of making it a remunerative venture. But on this point there is need of further evidence. When the emperor took over an estate of this kind, such an existing organization would be admirably fitted to continue under the fiscal administration. Apparently this is just what happened. One small but important improvement would be automatically produced by the change. The _coloni_ would now become _coloni Caesaris_[1433] and whatever protection against exactions of _conductores_ they may have enjoyed under the sway of their former lords was henceforth not less likely to be granted and much more certain of effect. To the fiscal officials any course of action tending to encourage permanent tenancies and steady returns would on the face of it be welcome: for it was likely to save them trouble, if not to bring them credit. The only influence liable to incline them in another direction was corruption in some form or other, leading them to connive at misdeeds of the local agents secretly in league with the head-lessees on the spot. That cases of such connivance occurred in the period from Trajan to Severus is not to be doubted. During the following period of confusion they probably became frequent. But it was not until Diocletian introduced a more elaborate imperial system, and increased imperial burdens to defray its greater cost, that the evil reached its height. Then the corruption of officials tainted all departments, and was the canker ever gnawing at the vital forces of the empire. But that this deadly corruption was a sudden growth out of an existing purity is not to be imagined. All this is merely an illustration of that oldest of political truisms, that to keep practice conformable to principle is supremely difficult. The only power that seems to be of any effect in checking the decay of departmental virtue is the power of public opinion. Now a real public opinion cannot be said to have existed in the Roman Empire; and, had it existed, there was no organ through which it could be expressed. And the Head of the State, let him be ever so devoted to the common weal, was too overburdened with manifold responsibilities to be able to give personal attention to each complaint and prescribe an equitable remedy. How far we are entitled to trace a movement of policy by the contents of these African inscriptions is doubtful. They are too few, and too much alike. Perhaps we may venture to detect a real step onward in the latest of them. The renewal of the encouragement of squatter-settlers[1434] on derelict lands does surely point to a growing consciousness that the food-question was becoming a more and more serious one. Perhaps it may be taken to suggest that the system of leasing the African domains to big _conductores_ had lately been found failing in efficiency. But it is rash to infer much from a single case: and the African Severus may have followed an exceptional policy in his native province. It is when we look back from the times of the later Empire, with its frantic legislation to bind _coloni_ to the soil, and to enforce the cultivation of every patch of arable ground, that we are tempted to detect in every record symptoms of the coming constraint. As yet the central government had not laid its cramping and sterilizing hand on every part of its vast dominions. Moreover the demands on African productivity had not yet reached their extreme limit. There was as yet no Constantinople, and Egypt still shared with Africa the function of supplying food to Rome. Thus it is probably reasonable to believe that the condition of the working tenant-farmers was in this age a tolerable[1435] one. If those on the great domains were bit by bit bound to their holdings, it was probably with their own consent, so far at least that, seeing no better alternative, they became stationary and more or less dependent peasants. In other parts of Africa, for instance near Carthage, we hear of wealthy landowners employing bodies of slaves. Some of these men may well have been Italians: at least they took a leading part later in the rising against Maximin and the elevation of Gordian. In connexion with the evidence of this group of inscriptions it may be not out of place to say a few words on the view set forth by Heisterbergk, that the origin of the later serf-colonate was Provincial, not Italian. He argues[1436] that what ruined small-scale farming in Italy was above all things the exemption of Italian land from taxation. Landlords were not constrained by the yearly exaction of dues to make the best economic use of their estates. Vain land-pride and carelessness were not checked: mismanagement and waste had free course, and small cultivation declined. The fall in free rustic population was both effect and cause. In the younger Pliny’s time good tenants were already hard to find, but great landlords owned parks and mansions everywhere. In the Provinces nearly all the land was subject to imperial taxation in kind or in money, and owners could not afford to let it lie idle. The practical control of vast estates was not possible from a distance. The direction of agriculture, especially of extensive farming (corn etc) from a fixed centre was little less difficult. There was therefore strong inducement to delegate the business of cultivation to tenants, and to let the difference in amount between their rents and the yearly imperial dues represent the landlord’s profit. Thus the spread of _latifundia_ swallowed up small holdings in the Provinces as in Italy; but it converted small owners into small tenants, and did not merge the holdings into large slave-gang plantations or throw them into pasture. The plan of leasing a large estate as a whole to a big head-tenant, or establishing him in the central ‘manor farm,’ was quite consistent with the general design, and this theory accounts for the presence of a population of free _coloni_, whom later legislation might and did bind fast to the soil. This argument has both ingenuity and force, but we can only assent to it with considerable reservations. Letting to free _coloni_ was a practice long used in Italy, and in the first century AD was evidently becoming more common. It was but natural that it should appear in the Provinces. Still, taken by itself, there is no obvious reason why it should develope into serfdom. With the admitted scarcity and rising value of labour, why was it that the freeman did not improve his position in relation to his lord, indeed to capitalists in general? I think the presence of the big lessee, the _conductor_, an employer of slave labour, had not a little to do with it. Labour as such was despised. The requirement of task-work to supplement that of slaves on the ‘manor farm’ was not likely to make labour more esteemed. Yet to get his little holding the _colonus_ had to put up with this condition. It may be significant that we hear nothing of _coloni_ working for wages in spare time. Was it likely that they would do so? Then, when the _conductor_ came to be employed as collector of rents and other dues on the estate, his opportunities of illicit exaction gave him more and more power over them; and, combined with their reluctance to migrate and sacrifice the fruits of past labour, reduced them[1437] more and more to a state of _de facto_ dependence. At the worst they would be semi-servile in fact, though free in law; at the best they would have this outlook, without any apparent alternative to escape their fate. This, I imagine, was the unhappy situation that was afterwards recognized by law. I must not omit to point out that I have said practically nothing on the subject[1438] of municipal lands and their administration by the authorities of the several _res publicae_ or _civitates_. Of the importance of this matter I am well aware, more particularly in connexion with the development of _emphyteusis_ under the perpetual leases granted by the municipalities. In a general history of the imperial economics this topic would surely claim a significant place. But it seems to have little or no bearing on the labour conditions with which I am primarily concerned, while it would add greatly to the bulk of a treatise already too long. So too the incidence of taxation, and the effects of degradation[1439] of the currency, influences that both played a sinister part in imperial economics, belong properly to a larger theme. Even the writers on land-surveying etc, the _agrimensores_ or _gromatici_, only touch my subject here and there when it is necessary to speak of tenures, which cannot be ignored in relation to labour-questions. All these matters are thoroughly and suggestively treated in Seeck’s great history of the Decline and Fall of the ancient world. Another topic left out of discussion is the practical difference, if any, between the terms[1440] _fundus_ and _saltus_ in the imperial domains. I can find no satisfactory materials for defining it, and it does not appear to bear any relation to the labour-question. The meaning of the term _inquilinus_ is a more important matter. If we are to accept Seeck’s ingenious conclusions[1441], it follows that this term, regularly used by the jurists of a house-tenant (urban) as opposed to _colonus_ a tenant of land (rustic), in the course of the second century began to put on a new meaning. Marcus settled large numbers of barbarians on Roman soil. These ‘indwellers’ were labelled as _inquilini_, a word implying that they were imported aliens, distinct from the proper residents. An analogous distinction existed in municipalities between unprivileged ‘indwellers’ (_incolae_) and real _municipes_. Now a jurist’s opinion[1442] in the first half of the third century speaks of _inquilini_ as attached (_adhaerent_) to landed estates, and only capable of being bequeathed to a legatee by inclusion in the landed estate: and it refers to a rescript of Marcus and Commodus dealing with a point of detail connected with this rule of law. Thus the _inquilinate_ seems to have been a new condition implying attachment to the soil, long before the _colonate_ acquired a similar character. For the very few passages, in which the fixed and dependent nature of the colonate is apparently recognized before the time of Constantine, are with some reason suspected of having been tampered with by the compilers of the Digest, or are susceptible of a different interpretation. It is clear that this intricate question cannot be fully discussed here. If these rustic _inquilini_ were in their origin barbarian settlers, perhaps two conclusions regarding them may be reasonable. First, they seem to be distinct from slaves, the personal property of individual owners. For the evidence, so far as it goes, makes them attached[1443] to the land, and only transferable therewith. Secondly, they are surely labourers, tilling with their own hands the holdings assigned to them. If this view of them be sound, we may see in them the beginnings of a serf class. But it does not follow that the later colonate was a direct growth from this beginning. We have noted above several other causes contributing to that growth; in particular the state of _de facto_ fixity combined with increasing dependence, in which the free _colonus_ was gradually losing his freedom. Whether the later colonate will ever receive satisfactory explanation in the form of a simple and convincing theory, I cannot tell: at present it seems best to admit candidly that, among the various influences tending to produce the known result, I do not see my way[1444] to distinguish one as supremely important, and to ignore the effect of others. The opinion[1445] of de Coulanges, that the origin of the later colonate is mainly to be sought in the gradual effect of custom (local custom), eventually recognized (not created) by law, is perhaps the soundest attempt at a brief expression of the truth. XLIX. THE JURISTS OF THE DIGEST. For the position of the _colonus_ in Roman Law during the period known as that of the ‘classic’ Jurists we naturally find our chief source of evidence in the Digest. And it is not surprising that here and there we find passages bearing on labour-questions more or less directly. But in using this evidence it is most necessary to keep in mind the nature and scope of this great compilation. First, it is not a collection of laws. Actual laws were placed in the Codex, based on previous Codes such as the Theodosian (439 AD), after a careful process of sifting and editing, with additions to complete the work. This great task was performed by Justinian’s commissioners in 14 months or less. The Justinian Code was confirmed and published in 529 AD, and finally in a revised form rather more than five years later. Secondly, the Digest is a collection of opinions of lawyers whose competence and authority had been officially recognized, and whose _responsa_ carried weight in the Roman courts. From early times interpretation had been found indispensable in the administration of the law; and in the course of centuries, both by opinions on cases and by formal treatises, there had grown up such a mass of written jurisprudence as no man could master. These writings were specially copious in the ‘classic’ period (say from Hadrian to Alexander 117-235). Actual laws are sometimes cited in the form of imperial decisions, finally settling some disputed point. But the normal product of discussion is the opinion of this or that eminent jurist as to what is sound law in a particular question. The different opinions of different authorities are often quoted side by side. If this were all, we might congratulate ourselves on having simply a collection of authentic extracts from named authors, conveying their views in their own words. And no doubt many of the extracts are of this character. But the position is not in fact so simple as this. Tribonian and his fellow-commissioners were set to work at the end of the year 530. Their task was completed and the _Digesta_ published with imperial confirmation at the end of 533. Now the juristic literature in existence, of which the Digest was to be an epitome superseding its own sources, was of such prodigious bulk that three years cannot have been sufficient for the work. To read, abstract, classify, and so far as possible to harmonize, this mass of complicated material, was a duty surely needing a much longer time for its satisfactory performance. Moreover, as this official Corpus of jurisprudence was designed for reference and citation as an authority in the courts, it had to be[1446] brought up to date. That this necessity greatly increased the commissioners’ burden is obvious: nor less so, that it was a duty peculiarly difficult to discharge in haste, and liable, if hurried, to result in obscurities inconsistencies and oversights. That much of the Digest has suffered from overhaste in its production is now generally admitted. Its evidence is therefore to be used with caution. But on the subject of _coloni_ the main points of interest are attested by witnesses of high authority, such as Ulpian, in cited passages not reasonably suspected of interpolation. And it is not necessary to follow up a host of details. We have only to reconstruct from the law-sources the characteristic features of agriculture and rustic tenancy as it existed before the time of Diocletian; and these features are on the whole significant and clear. Fortunately we are not entirely dependent on collection and comparison of scattered references from all parts of the great compilation. One title (XIX 2 _locati conducti_)[1447] furnishes us with a quantity of relevant matter classified under one head by the editors themselves. First and foremost it stands out quite clear that the _colonus_ is a free man, who enters into a legal contract as lessee with lessor, and that landlord and tenant are equally bound by the terms of the lease. If any clause requires interpretation owing to special circumstances having arisen, the jurist endeavours to lay down the principles by which the court should be guided to an equitable decision. For instance, any fact by which the productiveness of a farm and therewith the solvency of the tenant are impaired may lead to a dispute. Care is therefore taken to relieve the tenant of responsibility for damage inflicted by irresistible force (natural or human)[1448] or due to the landlord’s fault. But defects of climate and soil[1449] give no claim to relief, since he is presumed to have taken the farm with his eyes open: nor does the failure of worn-out fruit trees, which tenants were regularly bound by their covenant to replace. The chief rights of the landlord[1450] are the proper cultivation of the farm and regular payment of the rent. In these the law duly protects him. The tenant is bound not to let down the land by neglect, or to defraud[1451] the landlord by misappropriating what does not belong to him: rent is secured normally by sureties (_fideiussores_)[1452] found by the tenant at the time of leasing, or sometimes by the fact that all property of his on the farm is expressly pledged[1453] to the lessor on this account. Thus it is the aim of the law to guard the presumably poorer and humbler party against hard treatment, while it protects the man of property against fraud. In other words, it aims at strict enforcement of the terms[1454] of lease, while inclined to construe genuinely doubtful points or mistakes in favour[1455] of the party bound. That landlord and tenant, even in cases of fixed money rent, have a certain community[1456] of interest, seems recognized in the fact that some legal remedies against third persons (for malicious damage etc) could in some cases be employed[1457] by either landlord or tenant. In short, the latter is a thoroughly free and responsible person. That a tenant should be protected against disturbance[1458] was a matter of course. During the term of his lease he has a right to make his lawful profit on the farm: the landlord is not only bound to allow him full enjoyment (_frui licere_), but to prevent molestation by a third party over whom he has control. Indeed the tenant farmer has in some relations a more positive protection than the landlord himself. Thus a person who has right of _usus_ over an estate may in certain circumstances refuse[1459] to admit the _dominus_; but not the _colonus_ or his staff of slaves employed in the farm-work. Change of ownership can perhaps never be a matter of indifference to the sitting tenant of a farm. But it is the lawyer’s aim to see that the passing of the property shall not impair the tenant’s rights under his current lease. A lease sometimes contained clauses fixing the terms (such as a money forfeit)[1460] on which the contract might be broken; in fact a cross-guarantee between the parties, securing the tenant against damage by premature ejectment and the landlord against damage by the tenant’s premature quitting. The jurists often appeal to local custom as a means of equitable decision on disputed points. But one customary principle seems to be recognized[1461] as of general validity, the rule of _reconductio_. If, on expiration of a lease, the tenant holds on and the landlord allows him to remain, it is regarded as a renewal of the contract by bare agreement (_nudo consensu_). No set form of lease is necessary; but this tacit contract holds good only from year to year. Another fact significant as to the position of the _colonus_ is that he is assumed to have the right to sublet[1462] the farm: questions that would in that case arise are dealt with as matters of course. I suppose that a lease might be so drawn as to bar any such right, but that in practice it was always or generally admitted. Again, it is a sign of his genuinely independent position in the eye of the law that his own oath, if required of him, may be accepted[1463] as a counter-active plea (_exceptio iurisiurandi_) in his own defence, when sued by his landlord for damage done on the farm. On the economic side we have first to remark that the _colonus_ is represented as normally a man of small means. It is true that in the Digest _conductor_ and _colonus_ are not clearly[1464] distinguished, as we find them in the African inscriptions and in the later law. For the former is simply the counterpart of _locator_, properly connoting the relation between the contracting parties: _colonus_ expresses the fact that the cultivation (_colere_) of land belonging to another devolves upon him by virtue of the contract. Every _colonus_ is a _conductor_, but not every _conductor_ a _colonus_. Now custom, recognized by the lawyers, provided a means of supplying the small man’s need of capital. To set him up in a farm, the landlord equipped him with a certain stock (_instrumentum_). This he took over at a valuation, not paying ready money for it, but accepting liability[1465] to account for the value at the end of his tenancy. The stock or plant included[1466] implements and animals (oxen, slaves, etc), and a miscellaneous array of things, of course varying with the nature of the farm and local custom. To this nucleus he had inevitably to add belongings[1467] of his own, which were likely to increase with time if the farm prospered in his hands. His rent[1468] might be either a fixed yearly payment in cash or produce, or a proportionate share of produce varying from year to year. The money-rent[1469] seems to have been the usual plan, and it was in connexion therewith that claims for abatement generally arose. The impression left by the frequent references to _reliqua_ in the Digest, and the experiences of the younger Pliny, is that tenant-farmers in Italy were habitually behind with their rents and claiming[1470] _remissio_. This is probably true of the period (say) 100-250 AD, with which we are here concerned. It was probably a time of great difficulty for both landlords and tenants, at least outside the range of suburban market-gardening. Signs are not lacking that want of sufficient capital[1471] cramped the vigour of agriculture directly and indirectly. Improvements might so raise the standard of cultivation on an estate as to leave an awkward problem for the owner. Its upkeep on its present level might need a large capital; tenants of means were not easy to find, and subdivision into smaller holdings would not in all circumstances provide a satisfactory solution. Moreover, if the man of means was not unlikely to act independently, in defiance of the landlord, the small man was more likely to take opportunities of misappropriating things to which he was not entitled. All these difficulties, and others, suggest no great prosperity in Italian agriculture of the period. That on certain soils farming did not pay, was as well known[1472] to the jurists as to other writers. And one great cause of agricultural decline appears in their incidental remarks as clearly as in literature. It was the devotion of much of the best land in the best situations to the unproductive parks and pleasure-grounds of the rich. This can hardly be laid to the account of the still favoured financial position of Italy as compared with the Provinces, for we find the same state of things existing late in the fourth century, when Italy had long been provincialized and taxed accordingly. It was fashion, and fashion of long standing, that caused this evil. And this cause was itself an effect of the conditions of investment. The syndicates for exploiting provincial dues had gone with the Republic. State contracts and industrial enterprises were not enough to employ all the available capital. The ownership of land, now that politics were not a school of ambition, was more than ever the chief source of social importance. A man who could afford to own vast unremunerative estates was a great personage. We may add that such estates, being unremunerative, were less likely to attract the fatal attention of bad emperors, while good rulers deliberately encouraged rich men to invest fortunes in them as being an evidence of loyalty to the government. The uneconomic rural conditions thus created are plainly referred to in the staid remarks of the jurists. We read of estates owned for pleasure (_voluptaria praedia_)[1473]: of cases where it may be doubted[1474] whether the _fundus_ does not rather belong to the _villa_ than the _villa_ to the _fundus_: and the use of the word _praetorium_[1475] (= great mansion, palace, ‘Court’) for the lord’s headquarters on his demesne becomes almost official in the mouth of lawyers. Meanwhile great estates abroad could be, and were, profitable to their owners, who drew rent from tenants and were normally non-resident. Yet _praetoria_ were sometimes found even in the Provinces. In connexion with this topic it is natural to consider the questions of upkeep and improvements. The former is simple. As the tenant has the disposal of the crops raised and gathered (_fructus_), he is bound[1476] to till the soil, to keep up the stock of plants, and to see that the drainage of the farm is in working order. Further detail is unnecessary, as his liability must be gauged by the state of the farm when he took it over. Improvements look to the future. From the lawyers we get only the legal point of view, which is of some interest as proving that the subject was of sufficient importance not to be overlooked. Now it seems certain that a _conductor_ or _colonus_ had a right of action to recover[1477] from the _dominus_ not only compensation for unexhausted improvements, but his whole outlay on them, if shewn to have been beneficial. Or his claim might rest on the fact that the project had been approved[1478] by the landlord. But it might happen that a work beneficial to the particular estate was detrimental to a neighbouring one. In such a case, against whom—landlord or tenant—had the owner of that estate a legal remedy? It was held that, if the tenant had carried out the work in question[1479] without his landlord’s knowledge, he alone was liable. If, as some held, the landlord was bound to provide a particular remedy, he could recover the amount paid under this head from his tenant. To insure the owner against loss from the acts of his lessee was evidently an object of the first importance, and this is in harmony with the Roman lawyers’ intense respect for rights of property. The general impression left on the reader of their utterances on this subject is that a landlord, after providing a considerable _instrumentum_, had done all that could reasonably be expected from him. Improvements, the desirability of which was usually discovered through the tenant’s experience, were normally regarded as the tenant’s business: it was only necessary to prevent the landlord from arbitrarily confiscating what the tenant had done to improve his property. Obviously such ‘improvements’ were likely to occasion disputes as to the value of the work done: but it was the custom of the countryside to refer technical questions of this kind to the arbitration of an impartial umpire (_vir bonus_), no doubt a neighbour familiar with local circumstances. On the whole, it does not appear that the law treated the _colonus_ badly under this head, and the difficulty of securing good tenants may be supposed to have guaranteed him against unfair administration. A great many more details illustrating the position of _coloni_ as they appear in the Digest could be added here, but I think the above will be found ample for my purpose. The next topic to be dealt with is that of labour, so far as the references of the lawyers give us any information. First it is to be noted that the two systems[1480] of estate-management, that of cultivation for landlord’s account by his _actor_ or _vilicus_, and that of letting to tenant farmers, were existing side by side. The latter plan was to all appearance more commonly followed than it would seem to have been in the time of Columella, but the former was still working. A confident opinion as to the comparative frequency[1481] of the two systems is hardly to be formed on Digest evidence: for in rustic matters the interest of lawyers was almost solely concerned with the relations of landlord and tenant. What an owner did with his own property on his own account was almost entirely his own business. There are signs that a certain change in the traditional nomenclature represents a real change of function in the case of landlords’ managers. The term _actor_ is superseding[1482] _vilicus_, but the _vilicus_ still remains. He would seem to be now more of a mere farm-bailiff, charged with the cultivation of some part or parts of an estate that are not let to tenants. It may even be that he is left with a free hand and only required to pay a fixed[1483] yearly return. If so, this arrangement is not easily to be distinguished from the case of a slave _colonus_ or _quasi colonus_[1484] occupying a farm. The financial and general supervision of the estate is in the hands of the _actor_[1485], who collects all dues, including rents of _colonie_ and is held to full account[1486] for all these receipts as well as for the contents of the store-rooms. He is a slave, but a valuable and trusted man: it is significant that the manumission[1487] of _actores_ is not seldom mentioned. Evidently the qualities looked for in such an agent were observed to develope most readily under a prospect of freedom. But, so long as he remained _actor_ of an estate, he could be regarded as part of it: in a bequest the testator could include him as a part[1488], and often did so: and indeed his peculiar knowledge of local detail must often have been an important element in its value. To employ such a person in the management of an estate, with powerful inducements to good conduct, may have solved many a difficult problem. We may perhaps guess that it made the employment of a qualified legal agent (_procurator_) less often necessary, at least if the _actor_ contrived to avoid friction with his master’s free tenants. Whether an estate was farmed for the owner by his manager, or let to tenants, or partly on one system partly on the other, it is clear that slave-labour is assumed as the normal basis of working. For the _colonus_ takes over slaves supplied by the _dominus_ as an item of the _instrumentum_. And there was nothing to prevent him from adding slaves of his own, if he could afford it and thought it worth his while to employ a larger staff. Whether such additions were often or ever made, we must not expect the lawyers to tell us; but we do now and then hear[1489] of a slave who is the tenant’s own. Such a slave might as part of the tenant’s goods be pledged to the landlord as security for his rent, but he would not be a part of the estate of which the landlord could dispose by sale or bequest. In such a case the slaves might be regarded[1490] as accessories of the _fundus_, if it were so agreed. This raised questions as to the degree of connexion that should be treated as qualifying a slave to be considered an appurtenance of a farm. The answer was in effect that he must be a member of the regular staff. Mere temporary employment on the place did not so attach him, mere temporary absence on duty elsewhere did not detach him. A further question was whether all slaves in any sort of employment on the place were included, or only such as were actually engaged in farm work proper, cultivation of the soil, not those employed in various subsidiary[1491] industries. These questions the jurists discussed fully, but we cannot follow them here, as their legal importance is chiefly in connexion with property and can hardly have affected seriously the position of tenants. But it is interesting to observe that the lawyers were feeling the necessity of attempting some practical classification. The distinction[1492] between _urbana_ and _rustica mancipia_ was old enough as a loose conversational or literary one. But, when rights of inheritance or legacy of such valuable property were involved, it became important to define (if possible) the essential characteristics of a ‘rustic’ slave. That the condition of the rustic slave was improving, and generally far better than it had been on the _latifundia_ of Republican days, seems indicated by the jurists’ speaking of a slave as _colonus_ or _quasi colonus_ without any suggestion of strangeness in the relation. We may assume that only slaves of exceptional capacity and merit would be placed in a position of economic (if not legal) equality with free tenants. Still the growth of such a custom can hardly have been without some effect on the condition of rustic slaves in general. It was not new in the second century: it is referred to by a jurist[1493] of the Augustan age. The increasing difficulty of getting either good tenants or good slaves no doubt induced landlords to entrust farms to men who could and would work them profitably, whether freemen or slaves. And a slave had in agriculture, as in trades and finance, a point in his favour: his person and his goods[1494] remained in his master’s power. If by skilled and honest management he relieved his master of trouble and worry, and contributed by regular payment of rent to assure his income, it was reasonable to look for gratitude expressed, on the usual Roman lines, in his master’s will. Manumission, perhaps accompanied by bequest[1495] of the very farm that he had worked so well, was a probable reward. May we not guess that some of the best farming carried on in Italy under the earlier Empire was achieved by trusted slaves, in whom servile apathy was overcome by hope? Such a farmer-slave would surely have under him[1496] slave labourers, the property of his master; and he would have the strongest possible motives for tact and skill in their management, while his own capacity had been developed by practical experience. I can point to no arrangement in Roman agriculture so calculated to make it efficient on a basis of slavery as this. The services (_operae_) of a slave, due to his owner or to some one in place of his owner, were a property capable of valuation, and therefore could be let and hired at a price. That is, the person to whom they were due could commute[1497] them for a _merces_. This might, as in the corresponding Greek case of ἀποφορά, be a paying business, if a slave had been bought cheap and trained so as to earn good wages. It was common enough in various trades: what concerns us is that the plan was evidently in use in the rustic world also. Now this is notable. We naturally ask, if the man’s services were worth so much to the hirer, why should they not have been worth as much (or even a little more) to his own master? Why should it pay to let him rather than to use him yourself? Of course the owner might have more slaves than he needed at the moment: or the hirer might be led by temporary need of labour to offer a fancy price for the accommodation: or two masters on neighbouring farms might engage in a reciprocity of cross-hirings to suit their mutual convenience at certain seasons. Further possibilities might be suggested, but are such occasional explanations sufficient to account for the prevalence of this hiring-system? I think not. Surely the principal influence, steadily operating in this direction, was one that implied an admission of the economic failure of slavery. If A’s slave worked for B so well that it paid A to let him do so and to receive a rent for his services, it follows that the slave had some inducement to exert his powers more fully as B’s hireling than in the course of ordinary duty under his own master. Either the nature and conditions of the work under B were pleasanter, or he received something for himself over and above the stipulated sum claimed by his master. In other words, as a mere slave he did not do his best: as a hired man he felt some of the stimulus that a free man gets from the prospect of his wage. So Slavery, already philanthropically questioned, was in this confession economically condemned. These points considered, we are not surprised to find mention of slaves letting out their own[1498] _operae_. This must imply the consent of their masters, and it is perhaps not rash to see in such a situation a sign of weakening in the effective authority of masters. A master whose interest is bound up with the fullest development of his slave’s powers (as rentable property exposed to competition) will hardly act the martinet without forecasting the possible damage to his own pocket. A slave who knows that his master draws an income from his efficiency is in a strong position for gradually extorting privileges till he attains no small degree of independence. We may perhaps find traces of such an advance in the arrangement by which a slave hires his own _operae_[1499] from his master. He will thus make a profit out of hiring himself: in fact he is openly declaring that he will not work at full power for his master, but only compound with him for output on the scale of an ordinary slave. This arrangement was common in arts and handicrafts, and not specially characteristic of Rome. In rustic life, the slave put into a farm as tenant[1500] at a fixed rent, and taking profit and loss, may furnish an instance. Whether such cases were frequent we do not know. The general impression left by the Digest passages on hiring and letting of slaves is that, when we read of _mercennarii_, it is generally if not always hireling[1501] slaves, not free wage-earners, that are meant. In a passage[1502] where _servus_ occurs as well as _mercennarius_, it is reference to the owner as well as to the hirer that necessitates the addition. If I have interpreted these points aright, the picture suggested is a state of things in which the rustic slave was steadily improving his position, supplying hired labour, at times entrusted with the charge of a farm, and with a fair prospect of becoming by manumission under his owner’s will a free _colonus_, or even his own landlord. How far this picture is really characteristic of rustic Italy, or of the Provinces (such as Gaul or Spain), is what one would like to know, but I can find no evidence. In the foregoing paragraphs I have refrained from inquiring whether the _colonus_ as he appears in the Digest was a farmer who worked with his own hands, or merely an employer and director of labour. The reason is that I have found in the texts no evidence whatever on the point. It was not the jurist’s business. We are left to guess at the truth as best we may, and we can only start from consideration of the farmer’s own interest, and assume that the average farmer knew his own interest and was guided thereby. Now, being bound to pay rent in some form or other and to make good any deficiencies in the _instrumentum_ at the end of his tenancy, he had every inducement to get all he could out of the land while he held it. How best to do this, was his problem. And the answer no doubt varied according to the size of the farm, the kind of crops that could profitably be raised there, and the number and quality of the staff. In some rough operations, his constant presence on one spot and sharing the actual work might get the most out of his men. Where nicety of skill was the main thing, he might better spend his time in direction and minute watching of the hands. On a fairly large farm he would have enough to do as director. We may reasonably guess that he only toiled with his own hands if he thought it would pay him to do so. This _a priori_ guesswork is not satisfactory. But I see nothing else to be said; for the African inscriptions do not help us. The circumstances of those great domains were exceptional. So far we have been viewing agriculture as proceeding in times and under conditions assumed to be more or less normal, without taking account of the various disturbing elements in rustic life, by which both landlords and tenants were liable to suffer vexation and loss. Yet these were not a few. Even a lawyer could not ignore wild beasts. Wolves carried off some of A’s pigs. Dogs kept by B, _colonus_ of a neighbouring _villa_, for protection of his own flocks, rescued the pigs. A legal question[1503] at once arises: are the rescued pigs regarded as wild game, and therefore belonging to the owner of the dogs? No, says the jurist. They were still within reach; A had not given them up for lost; if B tries to retain them, the law provides remedies to make him give them up. I presume that B would have a claim to some reward for his services. But the lawyer is silent, confining his opinion to the one question of property. References to depredations of robbers or brigands (_latrones_, _grassatores_,) occur often, and quite as a matter of course. The police of rural Italy, not to mention the Provinces, was an old scandal. Stock-thieves, who lifted a farmer’s cattle sheep or goats, and sometimes his crops, were important enough to have a descriptive name (_abigei_)[1504] and a title of the Digest to themselves. That bad neighbours made themselves unpleasant in many ways, and that their presence gave a bad name to properties near them, was an experience of all lands and all ages: but the jurists treat it gravely[1505] as a lawyer’s matter. Concealment of such a detrimental fact[1506] by the seller of an estate made the sale voidable. The rich (old offenders in this kind) were by a rescript of Hadrian[1507] awarded differential punishment for removing landmarks: in their case the purpose of encroachment was not a matter open to doubt. In one connexion the use of force as an embarrassing feature of rustic life was a subject of peculiar interest to the jurists, and had long been so. This was in relation to questions of possession. In Roman law _possessio_ held a very important place. All that need be said of it here is that the fact of possession, or lack of it, seriously affected the position of litigants in disputes as to property. Great ingenuity was exercised in definition and in laying down rules for ascertaining the fact. Now among the means employed in gaining or recovering possession none was more striking or more effective than the use of force. Special legal remedies had been provided to deal with such violence; _interdicta_ issued by the praetor, to forbid it, or to reinstate a claimant dislodged by his rival, or simply to state the exact issue raised in a particular case. On conformity or disobedience to the praetor’s order the case was formally tried in court: the question of law mainly turned on questions of fact. What concerns us is that force was solemnly classified under two heads, _vis_ and _vis armata_. Each of these had its own proper interdict at least as early as the time of Cicero, and they occupy a whole title[1508] in the Digest. Clearly the use of force was no negligible matter. That it was a danger or at least a nuisance to owners or claimants of _property_, is not less clear. But how did it touch the _colonus_? He was, as such, neither owner nor claimant of the property of his farm. He had in his own capacity[1509] no _possession_ either. But, as tenant of a particular owner, his presence operated[1510] to secure the possession of his landlord. Hence to oust him by force broke the landlord’s possession; whether rightly or wrongly, the law had to decide. Now it is obvious that, in cases where serious affrays resulted from intrusion, a tenant might suffer grave damage to his goods and person. The intruders (often a gang of slaves) would seldom be so punctiliously gentle as to do no harm at all. Therefore, having regard to the amount of interest in this subject shewn by the lawyers, we cannot omit the use of force in matters of possession from the list of rustic embarrassments. Another cause of annoyance was connected with servitudes, such as rights of way and water, which were frequent subjects of dispute in country districts. Whether regarded as rights or as burdens, the principles governing them were a topic that engaged the minute and laborious attention[1511] of the lawyers. Now it is evident that a right of way or water through an estate, though a material advantage to a neighbouring estate served by the convenience, might be a material disadvantage to the one over which the right extended. Also that the annoyance might be indefinitely increased or lessened by the cantankerous or considerate user of the right by the person or persons enjoying it. When we consider that servitudes were already an important department of jurisprudence in Republican days, and see how great a space they occupy in the Digest, we can hardly resist the conclusion that country proprietors found in them a fertile subject of quarrels. But surely the quarrels of landlords over a matter of this kind could not be carried on without occasional and perhaps frequent disturbances and injury to the tenants on the land. Even if the law provided means of getting compensation for any damage done to a tenant’s crops or other goods in the course of attempts to enforce or defeat a claimed servitude, was the average _colonus_ a man readily to seek compensation in the law-courts? I think not. But, if not, he would depend solely on the goodwill of his own landlord, supposing the latter to have got the upper hand in the main dispute. On the whole, I strongly suspect that in practice these quarrels over rustic servitudes were a greater nuisance to farmers than might be supposed. So far as I know, we have no statement of the farmer’s point of view. Another intermittent but damaging occurrence was the occasional passage of soldiery, whose discipline was often lax. We might easily forget the depredations and general misconduct of these unruly ruffians, and imagine that such annoyances only became noticeable in a later period. But the jurists do not allow us to forget[1512] the military requisitions for supply of troops on the march, the payment for which is not clearly provided, and would at best be a cause of trouble; or the pilferings of the men, compensation for which was probably not to be had. It would be farmers in northern Italy and the frontier-provinces that were the chief sufferers. Damage by natural disturbances or by fires may happen in any age or country. That Italy in particular was exposed to the effect of floods and earthquakes, we know. Accordingly the lawyers are seriously concerned with the legal and equitable questions arising out of such events. It was not merely the claim of tenants[1513] to abatement of rent that called for a statement of principles. Beside the sudden effects of earthquakes torrents or fires, there were the slower processes of streams changing their courses[1514] and gradual land-slides on the slopes of hills. These movements generally affected the proprietary relations of neighbouring landlords, taking away land from one, sometimes giving to another. Here was a fine opening for ingenious jurists, of which they took full advantage. The growth of estates by alluvion, and loss by erosion, was a favourite topic, the operation of which, and the questions thereby raised, are so earnestly treated as to shew their great importance in country life. Of fire-damage, due to malice or neglect, no more need be said; nor of many other minor matters. But, when all the above drawbacks have been allowed for, it is still probably true that scarcity of labour was a far greater difficulty for farmers. We hear very little directly of this trouble, as it raised no point of law. Very significant[1515] however are the attempts of the Senate and certain emperors to put down an inveterate scandal which is surely good indirect evidence of the scarcity. It consisted in the harbouring[1516] of runaway slaves on the estates of other landlords. A runaway from one estate was of course not protected and fed on another estate from motives of philanthropy. The slave would be well aware that severe punishment awaited him if recovered by his owner, and therefore be willing to work for a new master who might, if displeased, surrender him any day. The landlords guilty of this treason to the interests of their class were probably the same as those who harboured[1517] brigands, another practice injurious to peaceful agriculture both in Italy and abroad. Another inconvenience, affecting all trades and all parts of the empire in various degrees, was the local difference in the money-value[1518] of commodities in different markets. This was sometimes great: and that it was troublesome to farmers may be inferred from the particular mention of wine oil and corn as cases in point. No doubt dealers had the advantage over producers, as they generally have, through possessing a more than local knowledge of necessary facts. These middlemen however could not be dispensed with, as experience shewed, and one of the later jurists[1519] openly recognized. Facilities for borrowing, and rates of interest, varied greatly in various centres. But all these market questions do not seem to have been so acute as to be a public danger until the ruinous debasement of the currency in the time of Gallienus. A few references may be found to peculiar usages of country life in particular Provinces. Thus we read that in Arabia[1520] farms were sometimes ‘boycotted,’ any person cultivating such a farm being threatened with assassination. In Egypt[1521] special care had to be taken to protect the dykes regulating the distribution of Nile water. Both these offences were summarily dealt with by the provincial governor, and the penalty was death. Here we have one more proof of the anxiety of the imperial government to insure the greatest possible production of food. The empire was always hungry,—and so were the barbarians. And the northern frontier provinces could not feed both themselves and the armies. While speaking of landlords and tenants we must not forget that all over the empire considerable areas of land were owned by municipalities, and dealt with at the discretion of the local authorities. Variety of systems was no doubt dictated by variety of local circumstances: but one characteristic was so general as to deserve special attention on the part of jurists. This was the system of perpetual leaseholds[1522] at a fixed (and undoubtedly beneficial) rent, heritable and transferable to assigns. So long as the tenant regularly paid the _vectigal_, his occupation was not to be disturbed. It was evidently the desire of the municipal authorities to have a certain income to reckon with: for the sake of certainty they would put up with something less than a rack-rent. There were also other lands owned by these _civitates_ that were let on the system[1523] in use by private landlords; the normal term probably being five years. Of these no more need be said here. Beneficial leases under a municipality were liable to corrupt management. It had been found necessary[1524] to disqualify members of the local Senate (_decuriones_) from holding such leases, that they might not share out the common lands among themselves on beneficial terms. But this prohibition was not enough. The town worthies put in men of straw[1525] as nominal tenants, through whom they enjoyed the benefits of the leases. So this evasion also had to be met by revoking the ill-gotten privilege. But disturbance of tenancies was not to be lightly allowed, so it appears that a reference to the emperor[1526] was necessary before such revocation could take place. This system of perpetual leases is of interest, not as indicating different methods of cultivation from those practised on private estates, but as betraying a tendency to fixity[1527] already existing, destined to spread and to take other forms, and to become the fatal characteristic of the later Empire. Another striking piece of evidence in the same direction occurs in connexion with the lessees (_publicani_) of various state dues (_vectigalia publica_) farmed out in the usual way. In the first half of the third century the jurist Paulus attests[1528] the fact that, in case it was found that the right of collecting such dues, hitherto very profitable to the lessees, could only be let at a lower lump sum than hitherto, the old lessees were held bound to continue their contract at the old price. But Callistratus, contemporary or nearly so, tells us that this was not so, and quotes[1529] a rescript of Hadrian (117-138 AD) condemning the practice as tyrannical and likely to deter men from entering into so treacherous a bargain. It appears that other[1530] emperors had forbidden it, but there is no proof that they succeeded in stopping it. At all events the resort to coercion in a matter of contract like this reveals the presence of a belief in compulsory fixity, ominous of the coming imperial paralysis, though of course not so understood at the time. It did not directly affect agriculture as yet; but its application to agriculture was destined to be a symptom and a cause of the empire’s decline and fall. Another group of tenancies, the number and importance of which was quietly increasing, was that known as _praedia Caesaris_[1531], _fundi fiscales_, and so forth. We need not discuss the departmental differences and various names of these estates. The tenants, whether small men or _conductores_ on a large scale who sublet in parcels[1532] to _coloni_, held either directly or indirectly from the emperor. We have seen specimens in Africa, the Province in which the crown-properties were exceptionally large. What chiefly concerns us here is the imperial land-policy. It seems clear that its first aim was to keep these estates permanently occupied by good solvent tenants. The surest means to this end was to give these estates a good name, to create a general impression that on imperial farms a man had a better chance of thriving than on those of average private landlords. Now the ‘state,’ that is the emperor or his departmental chiefs, could favour crown-tenants in various ways without making a material sacrifice of a financial kind. In particular, the treatment of crown-estates as what we call ‘peculiars,’ in which local disputes were settled, not by resort to the courts of ordinary law, but administratively[1533] by the emperor’s _procuratores_, was probably a great relief; above all to the humbler _coloni_, whom we may surely assume to have been a class averse to litigation. No doubt a _procurator_ might be corrupted and unjust. But he was probably far more effectually watched than ordinary magistrates; and, if the worst came to the worst, there was as we have seen the hope of a successful appeal to the emperor. Another favour consisted in the exemption of Caesar’s tenants from various burdensome official duties in municipalities, the so-called _munera_, which often entailed great expense. This is mentioned by a jurist[1534] near the end of the second century: they are only to perform such duties so far as not to cause loss to the treasury. Another[1535], somewhat later, says that their exemption is granted in order that they may be more suitable tenants of treasury-farms. This exemption is one more evidence of the well-known fact that in this age municipal offices were beginning to be evaded[1536] as ruinous, and no longer sought as an honour. We must note that, if this _immunitas_ relieved the crown-tenants, it left all the more burdens to be borne by those who enjoyed no such relief. And this cannot have been good for agriculture in general. It is not to be supposed that the _fiscus_[1537] was a slack and easy landlord. Goods of debtors were promptly seized to cover liabilities: attempts to evade payment of _tributa_ by a private agreement[1538] between mortgagor and mortgagee were quashed: a rescript[1539] of Marcus and Verus insisted on the treasury share (½) of treasure trove: and so on. But there are signs of a reasonable and considerate policy, in not pressing demands so as to inflict hardship. Trajan[1540] had set a good example, and good emperors followed it. We may fairly guess that this moderation in financial dealings was not wholly laid aside in the management of imperial estates. Nor is it to be imagined that the advantages of imperial tenants were exactly the same in all parts of the empire. In Provinces through which armies had to move it is probable that _coloni Caesaris_ would suffer less[1541] than ordinary farmers from military annoyances. But on the routes to and from a seat of war it is obvious that the imperial post-service would be subjected to exceptional strain. Now this service was at the best of times[1542] a cause of vexations and losses to the farmers along the line of traffic. The staff made good all deficiencies in their requirements by taking beasts fodder vehicles etc wherever they could find them: what they restored was much the worse for wear, and compensation, if ever got, was tardy and inadequate. The repair of roads was another pretext for exaction. It is hardly to be doubted that in these respects imperial tenants suffered less than others. Some emperors[1543] took steps to ease the burden, which had been found too oppressive to the roadside estates. But this seems to have been no more than relief from official requisitions: irregular ‘commandeering’ was the worst evil, and we have no reason to think that it was effectually suppressed. It appears in the next period as a rampant abuse, vainly forbidden by the laws of the Theodosian code. L. THE LATER COLONATE, ITS PLACE IN ROMAN HISTORY. In the endeavour to extract from scattered and fragmentary evidence some notion of agricultural conditions in the Roman empire before and after Diocletian we are left with two imperfect pictures, so strongly contrasted as to suggest a suspicion of their truth. We can hardly believe that the system known as the later Colonate appeared in full force as a sudden phenomenon. Nor indeed are we compelled to fly so directly in the face of historical experience. That we have no narrative of the steps that led to this momentous change, is surely due to the inability of contemporaries to discern the future effect of tendencies operating silently[1544] and piecemeal. What seems at the moment insignificant, even if observed, is seldom recorded, and very seldom intentionally. Hence after generations, seeking to trace effects to causes, are puzzled by defects of record. Their only resource is to supplement, so far as possible, defective record by general consideration of the history of the time in question and cautious inference therefrom: in fact to get at the true meaning of fragmentary admissions in relation to their historical setting. The chief topic to be dealt with here from this point of view is the character of the Roman Empire in several aspects. For among all the anxieties of the government during these troubled centuries the one that never ceased was the fear of failure in supplies of food. The character of the Roman Empire had been largely determined by the fact that it arose from the overthrow of a government that had long been practically aristocratic. The popular movements that contributed to this result only revealed the impossibility of establishing anything like a democracy, and the unreality of any power save the power of the sword. The great dissembler Augustus concealed a virtual autocracy by conciliatory handling of the remains of the nobility. But the Senate, to which he left or gave many powers, was never capable of bearing a vital part in the administration, and its influence continued to dwindle under his successors. The master of the army was the master of the empire, and influence was more and more vested in those who were able to guide his policy. That these might be, and sometimes were, not born Romans at all, but imperial freedmen generally of Greek or mixed-Greek origin, was a very significant fact. In particular, it marked and encouraged the growth of departmental bureaus, permanent and efficient beyond the standard of previous Roman experience. But the price of this efficiency was centralization, a condition that carried with it inevitable dangers, owing to the vast extent of the empire. In modern times the fashionable remedy suggested for over-centralization is devolution of powers to local governments controlling areas of considerable size. Or, in cases of aggregation, the existing powers left to states merged in a confederation are considerable. In any case, the subordinate units are free to act within their several limited spheres, and the central government respects their ‘autonomy,’ only interfering in emergencies to enforce the fulfilment of definite common obligations. But, if it had been desired to gain any such relief by a system of devolution within the Roman empire, this would have meant the recognition of ‘autonomy’ in the Provinces. And this was inconceivable. The extension of Roman dominion had been achieved by dividing Rome’s adversaries. Once conquered, it was the interest or policy of the central power to keep them in hand by preventing the growth of self-conscious cohesion in the several units. Each Province was, as the word implied, a department of the Roman system, ruled by a succession of Roman governors. It looked to Rome for orders, for redress of grievances, for protection at need. If the advance of Rome destroyed no true nations, her government at least made the development of truly national characteristics impossible, while she herself formed no Roman nation. Thus, for better or worse, the empire was _non-national_. But, as we have already seen, the decline of Italy made it more and more clear that the strength of the empire lay in the Provinces. Now, having no share in initiative and no responsibility, the Provinces steadily lost vitality under Roman civilization, and became more and more helplessly dependent on the central power. As the strain on the empire became greater, the possibility of relief by devolution grew less: but more centralization was no cure for what was already a disease. That local government of a kind existed in the empire is true enough; also that it was one of the most striking and important features of the system. But it was municipal, and tended rather to subdivide than to unite. It was the outcome of a civilization profoundly urban in its origins and ideas. The notion that a city was a state was by no means confined to the independent cities of early Greece. Whether it voluntarily merged itself in a League or lived on as a subordinate unit in the system of a dominant power, the city and its territory were politically one. Within their several boundaries the townsmen and rustic citizens of each city were subject to the authorities of that community. Beyond their own boundary they were aliens under the authorities of another city. It is no wonder that jealousies between neighbour cities were often extreme, and that Roman intervention was often needed to keep the peace between rivals. But the system suited Roman policy. In the East and wherever cities existed they were taken over as administrative units and as convenient centres of taxation: in the West it was found useful and practicable to introduce urban centres into tribes and cantons, and even in certain districts to attach[1545] local populations to existing cities as dependent hamlets. And, so long as the imperial government was able to guard the frontiers and avert the shock of disturbances of the Roman peace, the empire held its own in apparent prosperity. To some historians the period of the ‘Antonines’ (say about 100-170 AD) has seemed a sort of Golden Age. But signs are not lacking that the municipal system had seen its best days. The severe strain on imperial resources in the time of Marcus left behind it general exhaustion. The decay of local patriotism marked the pressure of poverty and loss of vitality in the cities. More and more their importance became that of mere taxation-centres, in which the evasion of duty was the chief preoccupation: they could not reinvigorate the empire, nor the empire them. Another characteristic of the empire, not less significant than those mentioned above, was this: taken as a whole, it was _non-industrial_. Manufactures existed here and there, and products of various kinds were exchanged between various parts of the empire. So far as the ordinary population was concerned, the Roman world might well have supplied its own needs. But this was not enough. The armies, though perilously small for the work they had to do, were a heavy burden. The imperial civil service as it became more elaborate did not become less costly. The waste of resources on unremunerative buildings and shows in cities, above all in Rome, and the ceaseless expense of feeding a worthless rabble, were a serious drain: ordained by established custom, maintained by vanity, to economize on these follies would seem a confession of weakness. Nor should the extravagance of the rich, and of many emperors, be forgotten: this created a demand for luxuries chiefly imported from the East; precious stones, delicate fabrics, spices, perfumes, rare woods, ivory, and so forth. Rome had no goods to export in payment for such things, and the scarcity of return-cargoes must have added heavily to the cost of carriage. There was on this account a steady drain of specie to the East, and this had to be met by a corresponding drain of specie to Rome. In one form or another this meant money drawn from the Provinces, for which the Provinces received hardly the bare pretence of an equivalent, or a better security for peace. Thus the empire, created by conquest and absorption, administered by bureaucratic centralization, _rested on force_; a force partly real and still present, partly traditional, derived from a victorious past. The belief in Rome as the eternal city went for much, and we hear of no misgivings as to the soundness of a civilization which expressed itself in a constant excess of consumption over production. Naturally enough, under such conditions, the imperial system became more and more what it really was from the first, a vast machine. It was not a league of cooperating units, each containing a vital principle of growth, and furnishing the power of recovery from disaster. Its apathetic parts looked passively to the centre for guidance or relief, depending on the perfection of a government whose imperfection was assured by attempting a task beyond the reach of human faculty and virtue. The exposure of the empire’s weakness came about through collision with the forces of northern barbarism. What a machine could do, that it did, and its final failure was due to maladies that made vain all efforts to renew its internal strength. The wars with the northern barbarians brought out with singular clearness two important facts, already known but not sufficiently taken into account. First, that the enemy were increasing in numbers while the people of the empire were in most parts stationary or even declining. Bloody victories, when gained, did practically nothing to redress the balance. Secondly, that at the back of this embarrassing situation lay a food-question of extreme seriousness and complexity. More and more food was needed for the armies, and the rustics of the empire, even when fitted for military service, could not be spared from the farms without danger to the food-supply. The demands of the commissariat were probably far greater than we might on the face of it suppose; for an advance into the enemy’s territory did not ease matters. Little or nothing was found to eat: indeed it was the pressure of a growing population on the means of subsistence that drove the hungry German tribes to face the Roman sword in quest of abundant food and the wine and oil of the South and West. The attempt of Marcus and others after him, to solve the problems of the moment by enlisting barbarians in Roman armies, was no permanent solution. The aliens too had to be fed, and their pay in money could not be deferred. Meanwhile the taxation of the empire inevitably grew, and the productive industries had to stagger along under heavier burdens. The progressive increase of these is sufficiently illustrated in the history of _indictiones_. At first an _indictio_ was no more than an occasional[1546] impost of so much corn levied by imperial proclamation on landed properties in order to meet exceptional scarcity in Rome. But it was in addition to the regular _tributum_, and was of course most likely to occur in years when scarcity prevailed. No wonder it was already felt onerous[1547] in the time of Trajan. Pressure on imperial resources caused it not only to become more frequent, and eventually normal: it was extended[1548] to include other products, and became a regular burden of almost universal application, and ended by furnishing a new chronological unit, the Indiction-period of 15 years. That agriculture, already none too prosperous, suffered heavily under this capricious impost in the second century, seems to me a fact beyond all doubt. And, not being then a general imperial tax, it fell upon those provinces that were still flourishing producers of corn. Debasement of currency already lowered the value of money-taxes, and tempted emperors to extend the system of dues in kind. Under Diocletian and Galerius things came to a head. Vast increase of taxation was called for under the new system, and it was mainly _taxation in kind_. Already the failure of agriculture was notorious, and attempts had been made to enforce cultivation of derelict lands. The new taxation only aggravated present evils, and in despair of milder measures Constantine attached the _coloni_ to the soil. Important as the legal foundation of the later serf-colonate, this law is historically still more important as a recognition of past failure which nothing had availed to check. He saw no way of preventing a general stampede from the farms save to forbid it as illegal, and to employ the whole machinery of the empire in enforcing the new law. This policy was only a part of the general tendency to fix everything in a rigid framework, to make all occupations hereditary, that became normal in the later Empire. The Codes are a standing record of the principle that the remedy for failure of legislation was more legislation of the same kind. Hard-pressed emperors needed all the resources they could muster, particularly food. They had no breathing-space to try whether more freedom might not promote enterprise and increase production, even had such a policy come within their view. Hence the cramping crystallizing process went on with the certainty of fate. The government, unable to develope existing industry, simply squeezed it to exhaustion. How came it that the government was able to do this? How came it that agricultural tenants could be converted into stationary serfs without causing a general upheaval[1549] and immediate dissolution of the empire? Mainly, I think, because the act of Constantine was no more than a recognition _de iure_ of a condition already created _de facto_ by a long course of servilizing influences. Also because it was the apparent interest, not only of the imperial treasury but of the great proprietors generally, to tie down to the soil[1550] the cultivators of their estates. Labour was now more valuable than land. In corn-growing Africa the importance attached to the task-work of sub-tenants was a confession of this. And, law or no law, things had to move in one or other direction. Either the landlord and head-lessee had to win further control of the tenants, or the tenants must become less dependent. Only the former alternative was possible in the circumstances; and the full meaning of the change that turned _de facto_ dependence into legal constraint may be stated as a recognition of the _colonus_ as labourer rather than tenant. Whether the settlement of barbarians as domiciled aliens in some Provinces under strict conditions of farm-labour had anything to do with the creation of this new semi-servile status, seems hardly to be decided on defective evidence. At all events it cannot have hindered it. And we must make full allowance for the effect of various conditions in various Provinces. If we rightly suppose that the position of _coloni_ had been growing weaker for some time before the act of Constantine, this does not imply that the process was due to the same causes operating alike in all parts of the empire in the same degree. The evidence of the Theodosian Code shews many local differences of phenomena in the fourth and fifth centuries; and it is not credible that there was a greater uniformity in the conditions of the preceding age. Laws might aim at uniformity, but they could not alter facts. My conclusion therefore is that the general character of the imperial system was the main cause of the later serf-colonate. However much the degradation of free farm-tenants, or the admission of slaves to tenancies, or the settlement of barbarians under conditions of service, may have contributed to the result, it was the mechanical nature of the system as a whole that gave effect to them all. After Trajan the rulers of the empire became more and more conscious that the problem before them was one of conservation, and that extension was at an end. Hadrian saw this, and strove to perfect the internal organization. By the time of Aurelian it was found necessary to surrender territory as a further measure of security. We can hardly doubt that under such conditions the machine of internal administration operated more mechanically than ever. Then, when the reforms of Diocletian made fresh taxation necessary to defray their cost, an agricultural crisis was produced by the turning of the imperial screw. The hierarchy of officials justified their existence by squeezing an assured revenue out of a population unable to resist but able to remove. There was no other source of revenue to take the place of the land: moreover, it was agricultural produce in kind that was required. Therefore the central bureaucracy, unchecked by any public opinion, did after its wont. In that selfish and servile world each one took care of his own skin. Compulsion was the rule: the _coloni_ must be made to produce food: therefore they must be bound fast to the soil, or the empire would starve—and the officials with it. ADDITIONAL NOTES TO CHAPTER L. I cannot lose this opportunity of referring to a very interesting little book by M. Augé-Laribé, _L’évolution de la France agricole_ [Paris 1912]. Much of it bears directly on the labour-question, and sets forth the difficulties hindering its solution. It is peculiarly valuable to a student of the question in the ancient world, because it lays great stress on the effect of causes arising from modern conditions. Causes operating in both ancient and modern times are thereby made more readily and clearly perceptible. Such modern influences in particular as the vast development of transport, the concentration of machine-industries in towns, and the constant attraction of better and more continuous wage-earning, by which the rustic is drawn to urban centres, are highly significant. The difference from ancient conditions is so great in degree that it practically almost amounts to a difference in kind. So too in the material resources of agriculture: the development of farm-machinery has superseded much hand-labour, while Science has increased the possible returns from a given portion of soil. Most significant of all from my point of view is the author’s insistence on the _irregularity_ of wage-earning in rustic life as an active cause of the flitting of wage-earners to the towns. This brings it home to a student that a system of rustic slavery implies a set of conditions incompatible with such an economic migration; and also that the employment of slaves by urban craftsmen would not leave many eligible openings for immigrant rustics. It is fully consistent with my view that the wage-earning rustic was a rare figure in the Greco-Roman world. It is perhaps in the remedies proposed by the author for present evils (and for the resulting depopulation of the countryside) that the contrast of ancient and modern is most clearly marked. Bureaucratic the French administrative system may be: but it is not the expression of a despotism that enslaves its citizens in the frantic effort to maintain itself against pressure from without. For individuals and organizations are free to think speak and act, and so to promote what seems likely to do good. Initiative and invention are not deadened by the fear that betterment will only serve as a pretext for increase of burdens. Stationary by instinct the French peasant proprietor may be: but he is free to move if he will, and no one dare propose to tie him to the soil by law. Nor can I omit a reference to a paper of the late Prof Pelham on _The Imperial domains and the Colonate_ (1890, in volume of Essays, Oxford 1911). The simplicity of the solution there offered is most attractive, and the general value of the treatise great. But I do not think it a final solution of the problem. Not only are there variations of detail in the domains known to us from the African inscriptions (some of them found since 1890). That some of the regulations may have been taken over from those of former private owners is a point not considered. And there is no mention of the notable requisition of the services of _coloni_ as mere retainers, to which Caesar refers without comment (above pp 183, 254). Therefore, while I welcome the proposition that the system of the Imperial domains had much to do with the creation of the later Colonate, I still think that earlier and more deep-seated causes cannot safely be ignored. Perhaps this is partly because I am looking at the matter from a labour point of view. FROM DIOCLETIAN LI. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. If we desire to treat History as the study of causation in the affairs of mankind—and this is its most fruitful task—we shall find no more striking illustration of its difficulties than the agricultural system of the later Roman Empire. In the new model of Diocletian and Constantine we see the imperial administration reorganized in new forms[1551] deliberately adopted: policy expresses itself, after a century of disturbance, in a clear breach with the past. But, when Constantine in 332 legislates[1552] to prevent _coloni_ from migrating, he refers to a class of men who are not their own masters but subject to control (_iuris alieni_), though he distinguishes them from slaves. Evidently he is not creating a new class: his intention is to prevent an existing class from evading its present responsibilities. They are by the fact of their birth attached as cultivators to their native soil. With this tie of _origo_[1553] goes liability to a certain proportion of imperial tax (_capitatio_). This is mentioned as a matter of course. Now we know that such serf-_coloni_ formed at least a large part of the rustic population under the later Empire. We cannot but see that the loss of the power of free migration is the vital difference that marks off these tied farmers from the tenant farmers of an earlier period, the class whom Columella advised landlords to retain if possible. For these men cannot move on if they would. How came they to be in this strange condition, in fact neither slave nor free, so that Constantine had merely to crystallize relations already existing[1554] and the institution of serf-tenancy became a regular part of the system? If we are to form any notion of the conditions of farm labour in this period, we must form some notion of the causes that produced the later or dependent colonate. And this is no simple matter: on few subjects has the divergence of opinions been more marked than on this. I have stated my own conclusions above, and further considerations are adduced in this chapter. Our chief source of evidence is the collection of legal acts of the Christian emperors issued by authority in the year 438, and known as the _codex Theodosianus_. It covers a period of more than a hundred years, and innumerable references to the land-questions attest the continual anxiety of the imperial government to secure adequate cultivation of every possible acre of land. Contemporary history may suggest motives for this nervousness. The increased expenses of the court and the administrative system made it necessary to raise more taxes than ever for the civil services. The armies, now mainly composed of Germans and other barbarians, were necessary for imperial defence, but very costly to equip pay and feed. Whether they were mercenaries drawing wages, or aliens settled as Roman subjects within the empire on lands held by tenure of military service, they were either a burden on the treasury or a doubtful element of the population that must at all costs be kept in good humour. On a few occasions Roman victories furnished numbers of barbarian prisoners to the slave-market. These would be dispersed over various districts, generally at some distance from the troubled frontiers, and the rustic slaves of whom we hear were doubtless in great part procured in this way. But that the rustic population consisted largely of actual slaves we have no reason to believe. Of estates worked on a vast scale by slave labour we hear nothing. Naturally; for the social and economic conditions favourable to that system had long passed away. Slaves were no longer plentiful, markets were no longer free. Under the Empire, the pride of great landlords needed a strong mixture of caution; under a greedy or spendthrift emperor the display of material wealth was apt to be dangerous. In the century of confusion before Diocletian agriculture had been much interrupted in many parts of the empire, and much land had gone out of cultivation. So serious was the situation in the later part of that period, that Aurelian[1555] imposed upon municipal senates the burden of providing for the cultivation of derelict farms. When a taxpayer is required to pay a fixed amount in a stable currency, he knows his liability. So long as he can meet it, any surplus income remains in his hands, and he has a fair chance of improving his economic position by thrift. If what the state really wants is (say) corn, it can use its tax-revenue to purchase corn in the open market. But this assumes that the producer is free to stand out for the best price he can get, and that he will be paid in money on the purchasing power of which he can rely for his own needs. This last condition had ceased to exist[1556] in the Roman empire. Not to mention earlier tamperings with the currency, since the middle of the third century its state had been deplorable. Things had now gone so far that the value of the fixed money taxes seriously reduced the income derived from them: the government was literally paid in its own coin. The policy of Diocletian was to extend an old practice of exacting payment in kind, and this became the principal method[1557] of imperial taxation. We must bear in mind that the supply of corn for the city of Rome, the _annona urbis_, went on as before, though the practical importance of Rome was steadily sinking. Diocletian made it no longer the residence of emperors, and Constantine founded another capital in the East: but Rome was still fed by corn-tributes from the Provinces, chiefly from Africa and Egypt. When the New Rome on the Bosporus was fully equipped as an imperial capital, Egypt was made liable for the corn-supply of the Constantinopolitan populace. Old Rome had then to rely almost entirely on Africa, with occasional help from other sources. Italy itself[1558] was now reduced to the common level, cut up into provinces, and liable for furnishing supplies of food. But it was divided into two separate regions: the northern, officially named _Italia_, or _annonariae regiones_, in which a good deal of corn was grown, had to deliver its _annona_ at Mediolanum (Milan) the new imperial headquarters: the southern, _suburbicariae_ (or _urbicariae_) _regiones_, in which little corn was grown, sent supplies of pigs cattle wine firewood lime etc to Rome. The northern _annona_, like that from other provinces, helped to maintain military forces and the host of officials employed by the government. For it soon became the practice to pay salaries in kind. In the pitiful state of the currency this rude method offered the best guarantee for receipt of a definite value. Unhappily this exaction and distribution in kind was at best a wasteful process. At worst it was simply ruinous. The empire was subject to constant menace of attack, and was in dire need of the largest possible income raised on the most economical system. If the ultimate basis of imperial strength was to be found in the food-producers, it was all-important to give the farming classes a feeling of security sufficient to encourage industry and enterprise, and at all costs to avoid reducing them to despair. Nor was the new census as designed by Diocletian on the face of it an unjust and evil institution. Taking account of arable lands and of the persons employed in cultivating them, it aimed at creating a fixed number[1559] of agricultural units each of which should be liable to furnish the same amount of yearly dues in kind. But it is obvious that to carry out this doctrinaire scheme with uniform neatness and precision was not possible. To deal fairly with agriculture a minute attention to local differences and special peculiarities was necessary, and this attention could not be given on so vast a scale. Perhaps careful observation and correction of errors might have produced a reasonable degree of perfection in a long period of unbroken peace: but no such period was at hand. The same strain that drove the imperial government to the new taxation also prevented any effective control of its working. It is perhaps inevitable that the exaction of dues in kind should lead to abuses. At all events, abuses in this department were no new thing: the sufferings of such Provinces as Sicily and Asia were notorious in the time of the Republic. A stricter control had made the state of things much better in the first two centuries of the Empire. The exploitation of the Provincials was generally checked, and the imperial government was not as yet driven by desperate financial straits to turn extortioner itself. Caracalla’s law of 212, extending the Roman franchise[1560] to all free inhabitants, was a symptom of conscious need, for it brought all estates under the Roman succession-tax. At the same time it did away with the old distinction between the ruling Roman people and the subject nationalities: henceforth, wherever there was oppression within the Roman world, it necessarily fell upon Roman[1561] citizens. Time had been when the Roman citizen, free to move into any part of the Roman dominions and to acquire property there[1562] under protection of Roman law, made full use of the opportunities afforded him, to the disadvantage of the subject natives. Now all alike were the helpless subjects of a government that they could neither reform nor supersede; a government whose one leading idea was to bring all institutions into fixed grooves in which they should move mechanically year after year, unsusceptible of growth or decay. True, the plan was absurd, and some few observers may have detected its absurdity. But the power of challenging centralized officialism and evoking expression of public opinion, never more than rudimentary in the Roman state, was now simply extinct. Things had come to such a pass that, speaking generally, a citizen’s choice lay between two alternatives. Either he must bear an active part in the system that was squeezing out the vital economic forces of the empire, making whenever possible a profit for himself out of a salary or illicit gains; or he must submit passively to all such extortions as the system, worked by men whose duty and interest alike tended to make them merciless, was certain to inflict. The oppressors, though numerous, could only be few in proportion to the whole free population. Therefore the vast majority stood officially condemned to lives of penury and wretchedness. The system became more hard-set and the outlook more hopeless with the lapse of time. The dues exacted from the various parts of the empire varied in quality[1563] according to local conditions, and to some extent in methods of collection. In the frontier Provinces the quantity was sometimes reduced[1564] by remissions, when a district ravaged by invaders was relieved for a few years that it might recover its normal productiveness. The details of these variations are beyond the scope of the present inquiry. The general principle underlying the whole system was the fixing of taxation-units equal in liability, and the organizing of collection in municipal groups. Each municipal town or _civitas_ was the administrative centre of a district, and stood charged in the imperial ledgers as liable for the returns from a certain number of units, this number being that recorded as existing at the last quinquennial census. For the collection the chief municipal authorities were responsible; and they had to hand over the amount due to the imperial authorities, whether they had received it in full or not. Already burdened with strictly municipal liabilities, the members of municipal senates (_curiales_) were crushed by this additional and incalculable pressure. Unable to resist, they generally took the course of so using their functions and powers as to protect their own interests as far as possible. One obvious precaution was to see that the number of taxable units[1565] in their district was not fixed too high by the census officials. This precaution was certainly not overlooked, and success in keeping down the number may well have been the chief reason why the system was able to go on so long. The _curiales_ were mostly considerable landlords, residing in their town and letting their land to tenants. But there were other landlords, smaller men, some also resident in the towns, others in the country. We still hear of men farming land[1566] of their own, and it seems that some of these held and farmed other land also, as _coloni_ of larger landlords. When any question arose as to the number of units for the tax on which this or that farm was liable, it is clear that the interests of different classes might easily clash. And the _curiales_ undoubtedly took care[1567] that their own and those of their friends did not suffer. These remarks imply that the system practically worked in favour of the richer classes[1568] as against the poorer. And so it certainly did, not only in the time of revision at the census each fifth year, but on other occasions. If an invasion or some other great disaster led the emperor to grant temporary relief, this would normally take the form of reducing the number of taxable units in the district for a certain period. But the local authorities were left to apportion this reduction[1569] among the several estates, and the poor farmers had no representative to see that they got their fair share of relief. Moreover, outside taxation, the farmers were often subjected to heavy burdens and damage by the irregular requisitions of imperial officials. For instance, the staff of the imperial post-service (_cursus publicus_)[1570] were a terror. They pressed the goods of farmers into the service of their department on various pretexts, and exacted labour on upkeep of roads and stations. For their tyranny there was no effective compensation or redress. Like other officials, they could be bought off by bribes: but this meant that the various exactions[1571] were shifted from the shoulders of the rich to those of the poor. Another iniquity, the revival of a very old[1572] abuse, was connected with the question of transport, an important consideration in the case of dues in kind, often bulky. For instance, in the case of corn, the place at which it had to be delivered might easily count for more in estimating the actual pressure of the burden than the amount of grain levied. In making the arrangements for delivery there were openings for favouritism and bribery. Circumstances varied greatly in various parts of the empire. In some Provinces delivery was made at a military depot within easy reach. Transport by sea from Egypt or Africa was carried on by gilds[1573] of shippers, who became more and more organized and regulated by law. But in many parts good roads were few, and laid out for strategic reasons; the country roads inconvenient and rough: and for transport in bulk the post-service provided no machinery available for the use of private persons. It is not necessary here to follow out in detail all the particular discomforts and grievances of the farming classes under the system devised by Diocletian and developed by his successors. Enough has been said to shew that they were great, and to remove all ground for wondering that the area of arable land actually under tillage, and with it population, continued to decline. Constantine’s law confirming the bondage of _coloni_ to the soil by forbidding movement was the confession of a widespread evil, but no remedy. Repeated legislation to the same purpose only recorded and continued the failure. When all the resources of evasion were exhausted, the pauperized serf fled to a town and depended for a living on the pitiful doles of private or ecclesiastical charity, or turned brigand and took precarious toll of those who still had something to lose. In either case he was an additional burden on a society that already had more than it could bear. In 382 we find an attempt[1574] made to put down ‘sturdy beggars.’ The law rewarded anyone who procured the conviction of such persons by handing over the offenders to him. An ex-slave became the approver’s own slave, and one who had nothing of his own beyond his freeborn quality was granted to him as his _colonus_ for life. But this law seems to have been ineffectual like others. Desertion of farms might to some extent be checked, but mendicity and brigandage remained. There was however another movement, later in time and less in volume, but not less serious as affecting the practical working of the imperial machine. With the increase of poverty life in municipal towns became less attractive. Local eminence was no longer an object of ambition; for to local burdens, once cheerfully borne, was now added a load of imperial responsibilities which lay heavy on all men of property, and which they could neither shake off nor control. In hope of evading them, well-to-do citizens took refuge[1575] in the country, either on estates of their own or under the protection of great landlords already settled there. But to allow this would mean the depletion of the local senates (_curiae_) on whose services as revenue-collectors the financial system of the empire depended. To prevent men qualified for the position of _curiales_ from escaping that duty was the aim of legislation[1576] which by repeated enactments confessed its own failure. That there were country magnates, men of influence (_potentes_), whose protection might seem able to screen municipal defaulters, is a point to be noted. They were the great _possessores_[1577] (a term no longer applied to small men), who held large estates organized on a sort of manorial model, and sometimes ruled them like little principalities, territorial lordships[1578] standing in direct relations with the central authorities and not hampered by inclusion in the general municipal scheme. Such ‘peculiars’ had existed under the earlier Empire, and evidently continued to exist: the Crown-lands of the emperors, especially in Africa, were the most signal cases. But the great private Possessor could not secure to his domain the various exemptions[1579] that emperors conferred on theirs. He had to collect and pay over[1580] the dues from his estate, as a municipal magistrate did from the district round his town-centre. But he had a more immediate and personal interest in the wellbeing of all his tenants and dependants, whose presence and prosperity gave to his land by far the greater part[1581] of its value. That territorial magnates should be free to build up a perhaps dangerous power in various corners of the empire by gathering dependants round them, could hardly be viewed with approval by the jealousy of emperors. Not only was the system of letting land in parcels to tenants spreading, but the power of the landlords over them was increasing, long before Constantine took the final step of treating them as attached permanently to the soil. Whether they were the landlord’s free tenants who had gradually lost through economic weakness the effective use of freedom; or small freeholders who had found it worth their while to part with their holdings to a big man and become his tenants for the sake of enjoying his protection; or former slaves to whom small farms had been entrusted on various conditions; they were in a sort of economic bondage. Doubtless most of them lived from hand to mouth, but we have no reason to believe that poverty, so long as they had plenty to live on, was the motive[1582] that made them wish to give up their holdings and try their luck elsewhere. It was the cruel pressure of Diocletian’s new taxation, and the army of officials employed to enforce it, that drove them to despair. A contemporary witness[1583] tells us, referring to this very matter, ‘the excess of receivers over givers was becoming so marked that farms were being abandoned, and tillages falling to woodland, the resources of the tenants being exhausted by the hugeness[1584] of the imposts.’ And this evidence does not stand alone. So Constantine sought a remedy in prevention of movement, binding down the tenants to the soil. Henceforth the land to which a _colonus_[1585] was attached by birth, and the _colonus_ himself, were to be legally and economically inseparable. Attempts at evading the new rule were persistently met by later[1586] legislation. The motive of such attempts may be found by remembering that depopulation was steadily lowering the value of land and raising that of labour. If an individual landlord could add to the value of his own estate by getting more _coloni_ settled on it, withdrawn from other estates, he might profit by the transaction: but the government, whose policy was to keep the greatest possible area under cultivation, could not allow one part to be denuded of labourers to suit the interest of the owner of another part. When the law stepped in to deprive the tenant, already far gone in dependence on his landlord, of such freedom of movement as he still retained, it is remarkable that rustic slaves were not at the same time legally attached to the soil. That inconvenience was caused by masters selling them when and where they chose, is shewn by Constantine’s law[1587] of 327, allowing such sales to take place only within the limits of the Province where they had been employed. No doubt their removal upset the arrangements for that part of a taxable unit in which the number of adult heads[1588] was taken into account, and so had to be checked. But it seems not to have been till the time of Valentinian[1589], somewhere between 367 and 375, that the sale of a farm-slave off the land was directly prohibited, like that of a _colonus_. In referring to this matter, the significance of the difference of dates is thus brought out[1590] by Seeck: ‘That this measure was carried through much sooner in the case of the small farmers than in that of the farm-slaves, is very characteristic of the spirit of that age. Where court favour is the deciding factor that governs the entire policy, the government is even more reluctant to limit the proprietary rights of the great landlord[1591] than the liberties of the small man.’ This is very true, but we must not forget that in both cases the binding of the labourer to the soil did in fact restrict the landlord’s freedom of disposal. He as well as his dependants came under a system not designed to promote his private convenience or interest, but to guarantee a maximum of total cultivation in the interest of the empire as a whole. So we find that he was not allowed[1592] to raise at will the rents of his tenants: they could sue their landlord (a right which in practice was probably not worth much), and even when this right was restricted[1593] in 396 they still retained it in respect of unfair increases of rent and criminal cases. So too, if he acquired extra slaves, either by receiving them as volunteers from derelict farms or in virtue of an imperial grant, it was strictly ordained[1594] that such acquisition carried with it the tax-liability for the whole of the derelict land. The landlord was therefore kept firmly in the grip of the central power, and not left free to build up a little principality by consolidating at will all the labour-resources that he could annex as dependants. Moreover he was watched by a host of imperial agents and spies whose interests could only be reconciled with his own by the costly method of recurrent bribery. When we return to the main question of the actual farm-labour, and ask who toiled with their own hands to raise crops, we find ourselves in a curious position. The evidence, whether legal or literary, leaves us in no doubt that the tenant farmer of this period was normally himself a labourer. And yet it is not easy to cite passages in which this is directly affirmed. The pompous and affected language of the imperial laws is throughout a bad medium for conveying simple facts; nor was the question, who did the work, of any interest to the central authority, concerned solely with the regular exaction of the apportioned dues. The real proof that _coloni_, whether still holding some land of their own or merely tenants, and _inquilini_, whether solely barbarian dependants or not, were actual handworkers, is to be found in legitimate inference from certain facts. First, the increase in the value of labour compared with the decline in that of land. The binding of tenant to soil was a confession of this. Secondly, the general poverty of the farmers[1595] and their helplessness against oppression and wrong. Of this the description of Salvian gives a striking, if rhetorical, picture, and it is implied in many laws designed[1596] for their protection. That persons in so weak an economic position could have carried on their business as mere directors of slave-labour is surely inconceivable: and we are to remember that not only they themselves but their families also were bound to the soil. It was their presence, that is to say their labour, that gave value to the land, and so paid the taxes. Hence it was that in forming taxable units (_capita_) it was generally the practice to include in the reckoning[1597] not only the productive area (_iugatio_) but also the ‘heads’ that stocked it (_capitatio_). In other words, productiveness must in the interest of the state be actual, not merely potential. The importance of keeping the real locally-bound _coloni_ strictly to their business of food-production was fully recognized in the regulations for recruiting the armies. Landlords, required to furnish[1598] recruits, were free to name some of their _coloni_ for that purpose. But there was no fear that they would be eager to do this, for the work of their tenants was what gave value to their properties. And the imperial officers charged with recruiting duty were ordered[1599] (and this in 400, when the need of soldiers was extreme) not to accept fugitive tenants belonging to an estate (_indigenis_): these no doubt if found were to be returned to their lords. The military levy was to fall upon sons of veterans, for in this class as in others no effort was spared to make the ways of life hereditary; or on wastrels (_vagos_)[1600], of whom the laws often make mention; or generally on persons manifestly by the circumstances of their birth (_origo_) liable to army service. Here we have the service still in principle confined to freemen. But it is not to be doubted that many a slave (and these would be nearly all rustic slaves) passed muster with officers hasting to make up their tale of men, and so entered the army. At a much later date (529) we find Justinian[1601] contemplating cases of slaves recruited with the consent of their owners, in short furnished as recruits. He enacts that such men are to be declared _ingenui_[1602], that is freeborn not freedmen, the master losing all rights over them: but, if they are efficient soldiers, they are to remain in the service. And the power of commuting[1603] the obligation of furnishing a recruit for a payment of money, which was to some extent allowed, introduced a method of recruiting[1604] by purchase. A recruit being demanded, it did not follow that the emperor got either the particular man (inspected of course and passed as fit) or a fixed cash-commutation. The recruiting officer conveniently happened to have a man or two at disposal, picked up in the course of his tour. The landlord, anxious to keep his own staff intact, came to terms with the officer for one of these as substitute. These officers knew when they could drive hard bargains, and did not lose their chances. In a law of 375, this system is directly referred to, and an attempt is made to regulate it[1605] on an equitable footing. To abolish it was clearly impossible. Eventually the state undertook to work it officially, and bought its own ‘bodies’ (_corpora_, like σώματα, of slaves) with the composition-money or _aurum_ _temonarium_. That some of these ‘bodies’ were escaped slaves is highly probable. Some may have been stray barbarians, not included in the various barbarian corps which more and more came to form the backbone of the Roman army. But the majority would probably be indigent wretches to whom any change seemed better than the miserable lives open to them in the meanest functions of the decaying civilization of the towns. In any case such recruits[1606] would be but a poor substitute for the pick of the rustic population. The same anxiety to spare the rustics unnecessary exactions, that they might not sink under their present burdens, appears in other regulations. The subordinates employed in the public services such as the Post, or as attendants on functionaries, were tempted to ease their own duties by demanding contributions from the helpless countryfolk. This we find forbidden[1607] in 321 as interfering with the farmers’ right to procure and carry home things required for agriculture. So too a whole Title[1608] in the _Codex_ is devoted to the prevention of _superexactiones_, a form of extortion often practised by officials, chiefly by the use of false weights and measures or by foul play with the official receipts. The laws forbidding practices of this kind seem to belong to the latter part of the fourth century and the earlier part of the fifth. But the evil was clearly of old standing, and the laws almost certainly vain. That illicit exactions were a particular affliction of the poorer rustics, who could not bribe the officials, is confessed[1609] by a law of 362, which ordains that the burdens of supplying beasts fodder etc for service of the Post, upkeep of the roads and so forth, are to be laid on all _possessores_ alike. Further enactments follow in 401 and 408. But these rules for equitable distribution of burdens, even if carried out, only spread them over all landowners and _coloni_. All the upper ranks[1610] of the imperial service carried exemption from _sordida munera_ in some form or other, and personal grants of exemption were often granted as a favour. It is true that such exemption only extended to the life of the grantee, that exemptions were revocable, and that in course of time extreme necessities led to revocations. But all this did not operate to relieve the unhappy rustic on whom the whole imperial fabric rested. The rich might have to lose their privileges, but it was too late for the poor to gain a benefit. That the underlings of provincial governors were a terror to farmers, levying on them illicit services and generally blackmailing them for their own profit, is clear from the law[1611] (somewhere 368-373) announcing severe punishment for the offence and declaring that it had become a regular practice. The law of 328, enacting[1612] that no farmer (_agricola_) was to be impressed for special service in the seasons of seed-time or harvest, is on rather a different footing. It expressly justifies the prohibition on the ground of agricultural necessity: in short, it is not to protect the farmer, but, to leave him no excuse for not producing food. A great critic[1613] has commented severely on the intellectual stagnation that fell upon the Roman empire and was one of the most effective causes of its decline. That literature fed upon the past and dwindled into general imbecility is commonly recognized: but the lack of material inventions and the paucity of improvements is perhaps not less significant than the decay of literature and art. The department of agriculture was no exception to this sterile traditionality. Since the days of Varro there had been no considerable change. So far as labour is concerned, the system of Columella can hardly be called an advance; for it employs directly none but slave labour, a resource already beginning to fail, and causing landlords to seek help from the development of tenancies. In modern times the dearness of labour has stimulated human ingenuity to produce machines by which the efficiency of human labour is increased and therefore fewer hands required for a given output. But in the world under the Roman supremacy centuries went by with hardly any modification of the mechanical equipment. A small exception may perhaps be found in a sort of rudimentary reaping-machine. It was briefly referred to by the elder Pliny[1614] in the first century of our era, and described by Palladius in the fourth. The device was in use on the large estates in the lowlands of Gaul, and was perhaps a Gaulish invention. It is said to have been a labour-saving[1615] appliance. From the description it seems to have been clumsy; and, since it cut off the ears and left the straw standing, it was only suited to farms on which no special use was made of the straw. Its structure (for it was driven by an ox from behind) must have made it unworkable on sloping ground. That we hear nothing of its general adoption may be due to these or other defects. But I believe there is no record of attempts to improve the original design. The lack of interest in improvement of tools has been noted as a phenomenon accompanying the dependence on slave labour. And when under the Roman empire we see the free tenant passing into the condition of a serf-tenant, we are witnessing a process that steadily tended to reduce him to the moral labour-level of the apathetic and hopeless slave. To make the agriculture of a district more prosperous was to attract the attention of greedy officials. To resist their illicit extortions was to attract the attention of the central government, whose growing needs were ever tempting it to squeeze more and more out of its subjects. Why then should the rustic, tied to the soil, trouble himself to seek more economical methods, the profits of which, if ever realized, he was not himself likely to enjoy? LII. LIBANIUS. In order to get so far as possible a living picture of the conditions of rustic life and labour we must glean the scattered notices preserved to us in the writers of the period of decline. Due allowance must be made for the general artificiality and rhetorical bent of authors trained in the still fashionable schools of composition and style. For even private letters were commonly written as models destined eventually to be read and admired by the public, while in controversial works and public addresses the tendency to attitudinize was dominant. The circulation of literary trivialities and exchange of cheap compliments, especially prevalent in Gaul, was kept up to the last by self-satisfied cliques when the barbarians were already established in the heart of the empire. Nevertheless valuable sidelights on questions of fact are thrown from several points of view. This evidence agrees with that drawn from the imperial laws, and is in so far better for our purpose that it deals almost exclusively with the present. When it looks to the future, it is in the form of petition or advice; while the normal substance of the laws is to confess the existence of monstrous abuses by threatening offenders with penalties ever more and more severe, and enjoining reforms that no penalties could enforce. A writer very characteristic of his age (about 315-400) is the ‘sophist’ =Libanius=, who passed most of his later years at Antioch, the luxurious chief city of the East. For matters under his immediate observation he is a good authority, and may help us to form a notion of the extent to which imperial ordinances were practically operative in the eastern parts of the empire. Two of the ‘orations,’ or written addresses, of Libanius are particularly interesting as appeals to the emperor Theodosius for redress of malpractices affecting the rustic population and impairing the financial resources of the empire. The earlier[1616] (about 385) exposes gross misdeeds of the city magistrates of Antioch. What with the falling of old houses and clearing of sites for new buildings there were great quantities of mixed rubbish to be removed and deposited elsewhere. Apparently there was now no sufficient staff of public slaves at disposal; at all events the city authorities resorted to illegal means for procuring the removal. When the country folk came into town to dispose of their produce, the magistrates requisitioned their carts asses mules (and themselves as drivers) for this work. Thus the time of the poor rustics was wasted, their carts and sacks damaged, and they and their beasts sent back to their homes in a state of utter exhaustion. No law empowered the city magnates to act thus. From small beginnings a sort of usage had been created, which nothing short of imperial ordinance could now break and abolish. That the magistrates were conscious of doing wrong was shewn by what they avoided doing. They did not impress slaves or carts from houses in the city. They did not exact like services from the military or powerful landlords. Nor did they lay the burden on the estates[1617] of the municipality, the rents from which were part of the revenues of Antioch. Favour is only justified by equity; and there is, says Libanius, no equity in sparing the luxurious rich by ruining the poor. So he entreats his most gracious[1618] Majesty to protect the farms as much as the cities, or rather more. For the country is in fact the foundation on which cities rest. Without it they could never have existed: and now it is on the rise and fall of rural wellbeing that urban prosperity depends. This appeal speaks for itself. But it is significant that the skilled pleader thinks it wise to end on a note of imperial interest. ‘Moreover, Sire, it is from the country that your tribute is drawn. It is to the cities that you address your orders[1619] for taxation, but the cities have to raise it from the country. Therefore, to protect the farmers is to preserve your interests, and to maltreat the farmers is to betray them.’ In the oration numbered 47 the abuse dealt with is of a very different kind. The date is 391 or 392, and the subject is the ‘protections’ (_patrocinia_)[1620] of villages. The pressure of imperial taxation and the abuses accompanying its collection had driven the villagers to seek help in resisting the visits of the tax-gatherers. This help was generally found in placing the village under the protection of some powerful person, commonly a retired soldier, who acted as a rallying-centre and leader, probably in most cases backed by some retainers of his own class. Of course these men did not undertake opposition to the public authorities for nothing. But it seems that their exactions were, at least in the earlier stages, found to be less burdensome than those of the official collectors. The situation thus created was as follows. The local senators (_curiales_) whose turn it was to collect the dues from the district under their municipality (a duty that they were not allowed to shirk) went out to the villages for the purpose. They were beaten off[1621] by use of force, often wounded as well as foiled. They were still bound to pay over the tax, which they had not received, to the imperial treasury. In these latter days default of payment rendered them liable to cruel scourging. So the unhappy _curiales_ had to sell their own property to make up the amount due. The loss of their means strikes them out of the _curia_ for lack of the legal qualification. And this was not only a loss to their particular city: it damaged imperial interests, bound up as the whole system was with maintaining unimpaired the supply of qualified _curiales_. The evil of these ‘protections’ was, according to Libanius, great and widespread. The protectors had become a great curse to the villagers themselves by their tyranny and exactions. Their lawless sway had turned[1622] farmers into brigands, and taught them to use iron not for tools of tillage but for weapons of bloodshed. And the trouble was not confined to villages where the land belonged to a number of small owners: it extended also to those[1623] under one big proprietor. The argument that the villagers have a right to seek help in resistance to extortion, is only sound if the means employed are fair. To justify this limitation two significant analogies[1624] are applied. Cities near the imperial frontier must not call in the foreign enemy to aid them in settling their differences with each other: they must seek help within the empire. A slave must not invoke the aid of casual bystanders against ill-usage: he stands in no relation to outsiders, and must look to his master for redress. The full bearing of these considerations is seen when we remember that the farmers are serf-tenants. They are owned[1625] by masters, as the municipal city exists only in and for the empire, and the slave has no legal personality apart from his lord. It is a fact, says[1626] Libanius, that through such evasion of their liabilities on the part of the rustics many houses have been ruined. He is surely referring to the _curiales_ and other landlords resident in the city, the numbers of which class it was the imperial policy to maintain at full strength. In moral indignation[1627] he urges the iniquity of beggaring poor souls who have nothing to live on but the income from their lands. ‘Say I have an estate, inherited or bought, farmed by sensible tenants who humbly faced the ups and downs of Fortune under my considerate care. Must you then stir them up by agitation, arousing unlooked-for conflicts, and reducing men of good family to indigence?’ This appeal would not sound overdrawn in the society of that age, though it might fall somewhat coldly upon modern ears. But the most notable point in this oration is the nature of the remedy[1628] for which the writer pleads, and which none but the emperor can supply. It is simply to enforce the existing law. Some years before, probably in 368, the emperor Valens had strictly forbidden[1629] the ‘protections’ that were the cause of this trouble. So now the appeal to Theodosius is ‘give the law sinews, make it a law indeed[1630] and not a bare exhortation.’ For, if it is not to be observed, it had better be repealed. That a leading writer of the day could so state the case to the ruler of the Roman world is a fact to be borne in mind by readers of the imperial laws. LIII. SYMMACHUS In passing on to =Q. Aurelius Symmachus=[1631] (about 345-405) we find ourselves in very different surroundings. The scene is in Italy, and the author a man of the highest station in what was still regarded as the true centre of the Roman world. He was _praefectus urbi_ in 384-5, consul in 391, and the leading figure in Roman society and literary circles. From the bulky collection of his letters, and the forty reports (_relationes_) addressed to the emperor by him as city prefect, we get much interesting evidence as to the condition of rural Italy and the anxieties of the corn-supply of Rome. With his championship of the old religion, by which he is best known, we have here nothing to do; and his literary affectations, characteristic of most writers of the later Empire, do not discredit him as a witness. A remarkable feature of his letters is their general triviality and absence of direct reference to the momentous events that were happening in many parts of the empire. His attention is almost wholly absorbed by matters with which he was immediately connected, his public duties, his private affairs, the interests of his relatives and friends, or the exchange of compliments. His time is mostly passed either in Rome or at one or other of his numerous country seats: for he was one of the great landlords of his day, and the condition of Italian agriculture was of great importance to him. As a representative of the landed interest and as a self-conscious letter-writer he resembles the younger Pliny, but is weaker and set in a less happy age. A topic constantly recurring[1632] in his correspondence is the apprehension of famine in Rome and the disturbances certain to arise therefrom. The distribution of imperial powers among several seats of government (of which Rome was not one) since the changes of Diocletian had left to the ancient capital only a sort of traditional primacy. The central bureaus were elsewhere, and Rome was only the effective capital of the southern division of Italy. Yet the moral force of her great past was still a living influence that expressed itself in various ways, notably in the growth of the Papacy out of the Roman bishopric. For centuries it had been the licensed lodging of a pauperized mob, fed by doles to keep them quiet, enjoying luxurious baths at nominal cost, and entertained with exciting or bloody shows in the circus or amphitheatre. This rabble had either to be kept alive and amused or got rid of; but the latter alternative would surely have reduced Rome to the condition of a dead city. It was morally impossible for a Roman emperor to initiate so ominous a policy. So the wasteful abomination dragged on, and every hitch in the corn-supply alarmed not only the _praefectus annonae_ but the _praefectus urbi_ with the prospect of bread riots. And the assignment of the Egyptian corn to supply Constantinople made Rome more than ever dependent on the fortunes of the African[1633] harvest. When this failed, it was only by great departmental energy that temporary shortage was made good by importations[1634] from Macedonia Sardinia or Spain or even by some surplus from Egypt. Even lower Italy, where little corn was grown, was at a pinch made to yield some. But bad seasons were not the only cause of short supplies. The acts of enemies might starve out Rome, as the rebellion of Gildo in Africa (397-8) nearly did. Moreover the slackness and greed of officials[1635] sometimes ruined the efficiency of the department, and ‘profiteering’ was practised by unscrupulous[1636] capitalists. Nor even with good harvests abroad were the prefects always at ease, since the corn-fleets might be delayed or scattered by foul weather, and meanwhile the consumption did not cease. And it sometimes happened that the cargoes were damaged and the public health suffered[1637] from unwholesome food. Among these various cares the _praefectura annonae_ was no bed of roses. No wonder the worthy Symmachus tells us of private charity[1638] to relieve the necessities of the poor, and even gives a hint of voluntary rationing at the tables of the rich. But in appealing to the gods for succour he rather suggests that human benevolence would be unequal to the strain. That agriculture was not on a sound footing in most of Italy is evident from several passages in the letters. In one of the earliest (before 376) he tells his father that, though he finds Campania charming, he should like to join him at Praeneste. ‘But’ he adds ‘I am in trouble about my property. I must go and inspect it wherever it lies, not in hope of making it remunerative, but in order to realize the promise of the land by further outlay. For things are nowadays come to such a pass[1639] that an owner has to feed the farm that once fed him.’ Some of the references to the management of estates are rather obscure. In speaking of one near Tibur he mentions[1640] stewards (_vilicorum_) and complains of their neglect. ‘The land is badly farmed, and great part of the returns (_fructuum_) is in arrear (_debetur_): the _coloni_ have no means left[1641] to enable them to clear their accounts or to carry on cultivation.’ The exact status of these stewards and tenants and their relations to each other are far from clear, and the case may have been a peculiar one. Again, writing to bespeak the good offices of an influential man on behalf of an applicant, he says ‘I do this for him rather as a duty[1642] than as an act of free grace, for he is a farm-tenant of mine.’ The tenant’s name is Theodulus, which invites a conjecture that this was a case of an oriental Greek slave placed as tenant on a farm, either for his master’s account, or for his own at a rent, and afterwards manumitted. A reference to _servi_, dependants (_obnoxii_)[1643] who are owing him rents which his agents on the distant estate in question do not take the trouble to collect, may point to the same sort of arrangement. In another passage he mentions[1644] a man who was for a long time _colonus_ under a certain landlord, but here too the lack of detail forbids inference as to the exact nature of the relation. That slave labour was still employed on some Italian farms appears from a request[1645] for help in recovering some runaways. They may have been house slaves, but if a neighbouring landlord gave them shelter no doubt he made them pay for it in work. The control of slaves in the country was never easy, and the quasi-military discipline described by Columella was a confession of this. And it was only on a large scale that a staff of overseers sufficient to work it could be provided. The time for it was indeed gone by. Slaves employed in hunting[1646] are mentioned by Symmachus as by Pliny. No doubt they took to this occupation with zest. The degeneracy of hunting by deputy is contemptuously noted as a sign of the times by the soldier critic[1647] Ammianus. But it was no new thing. That the general state of the countryside was hardly favourable to the quiet development of agriculture may be gathered from many notices. For instance, when he would have been glad to be out of Rome for the good of his health, he complains[1648] that the prevalence of brigandage in the country near forces him to stay in the city. A friend urges him to come back to Rome for fear of a violent raid on an estate apparently suburban: he can only reply[1649] that a breach of possession during his absence will not hold good in law. Whether the _militaris impressio_[1650] on his farm at Ostia, to which he casually refers, was the raid of foreign foes suddenly landing on that coast, or the lawless outrage of imperial troops, is not certain: I rather suspect the latter. For, fifteen years later (398), after the overthrow of Gildo, he writes[1651] that the soldiers are all back from Africa, and the Appian way is clear: here the meaning seems plain. And his endeavour[1652] to prevent the commandeering of an old friend’s house at Ariminum for military quarters is significant of the high-handed treatment of civilians by army men in those days, of which we have other evidence. Nevertheless men were still willing to buy estates. Symmachus himself was still adding to his vast possessions. We see him in treaty[1653] for a place in Samnium, where there was apparently some queer practice on the part of the seller: in another case he is annoyed[1654] that his partner in a joint purchase has contrived to secure the whole bargain as sole transferee, and rather sulkily offers to waive his legal claims on being reimbursed what he has already paid to the transferor. It seems strange that a man who, beside his numerous properties in Italy, owned estates[1655] in Mauretania (where he complains that the governors allow his interests to suffer) and in Sicily (where the lessee is called _conductor_, probably a tenant in chief subletting to _coloni_), should have had an appetite for more investments of doubtful economic value. But other investments were evidently very hard to find in an age when industry and commerce were fettered by the compulsory gild-system. And a man of influence like Symmachus was better able than one of the common herd to protect his own interests by the favour of powerful officials. We get glimpses of the condition of agriculture in Italy under the strain of events. It must be borne in mind that Italy was no longer exempt from the land-burdens of the imperial system. For many years, certainly from 383 to 398, Rome was hardly ever free from the fear of famine. It was necessary to scrape together all the spare food that could be found in the country in order to eke out the often interrupted importations from abroad. The decline of food-production in rich Campania is indicated by many scattered references. The district was probably too much given over to vines, and a great part of it occupied by unproductive villas. In 396 Symmachus is relieved to know that the corn-supply of Rome is assured, at least for twenty days. He goes on to mention[1656] that corn has been transferred from Apulia to Campania. Whether this was for Campanian consumption, or eventually to be forwarded to Rome, is not stated. I am inclined to the former alternative by the consideration of the quarrel between Tarracina and Puteoli referred to below. That corn should have been brought from Apulia[1657] is a striking fact. A great part of that province was taken up by pastures and oliveyards. It can only have had corn to spare by reason of sparse population and good crops. If we had the whole story of this affair, the explanation might prove to be simpler than it can be now. In 397 he writes[1658] to a friend that the Apulians are having a bad time. They are erroneously supposed to be in for a good harvest, and so are being required to supply corn. This will be stripping the province without materially helping the state. For winter is coming on, and there is not time left to bring such a great crop of ripeness. Symmachus had friends dependent on property in Apulia. Writing some four years later[1659] he refers to this estate as rated for taxation on a higher scale than its income would warrant: he asks the local governor to see that it shall not be crushed by ‘public burdens.’ For to Symmachus, as to all or most men in this passive and cruelly selfish age, the first thought was to protect their own interests and those of their friends by engaging the favour of the powerful. Many of the passages cited above illustrate this, and many more could be given. The candour of some of his applications is remarkable. On behalf of one dependant in trouble he says[1660] to the person addressed ‘but he will get more help from the partiality of your judgment, for he really has some right on his side.’ To another he writes[1661] that of course right is always to be considered, but in dealing with _nobiles probabilesque personas_ a judge should feel free to qualify strict rules, letting the fairness of his decision appear[1662] in the distinction made. This proposition introduces a request on behalf of his sister. Some farms of hers are overburdened with the dues exacted by the state, and are now empty for lack of tenants. Only the governor’s sanction can give them the relief needed to restore them to solvency; and Symmachus trusts that his friend will do the right thing by the lady. In another case[1663] he asks favour for a dependant, significantly adding a request that his friend will see to it that the case does not come before another judge. Now, what chance of asserting their own rights had humble folk in general, and poor working farmers in particular, when governors and judges of all sorts were solicited like this by men whose goodwill was worth securing,—men for the most part unscrupulous greedy and prone to bear grudges, not such as the virtuous and kindly Symmachus? Perhaps nothing shews the selfishness of the rich more than their attempts to shirk the duty of furnishing recruits for the army. Yet we find in one letter[1664] a request to a provincial governor to check the activities of the recruiting agents. That the writer accuses these latter of overstepping their legal powers can only be viewed with some suspicion, considering his readiness to use private influence. Early in 398, when a force was being raised to operate against Gildo, it was thought necessary to enlist slaves from the city households. The protests[1665] of their owners, in which Symmachus shared, were loud: the compensation allowance was too low, and so forth. Yet, if any one was interested in suppressing the rebel, it was surely these wealthy men. That the obligation of providing for the sustenance of the idle populace of Rome was not only a worry to officials but a heavy burden on farmers in the Provinces whence the supplies were drawn, needs no detailed proof. But they were used to the burden, and bore it quietly in average years. A very bad season might produce dearth even in Africa, and call for exceptional measures[1666] of relief on the part of emperors. So Trajan had relieved Egypt. It was however an extreme step to ease the pressure in Rome by expelling[1667] all temporary residents, as was actually done during the famine of 383. These would be nearly all from the Provinces, and Symmachus uneasily refers[1668] to the resentment that the expulsion was certain to provoke. But in this age a rebellion of provincials to gain redress of their own particular grievances was not a conceivable policy. When discontent expressed itself in something more than a local riot, it needed a head in the form of a pretender making a bid for imperial power. But we are not to suppose that Rome, and later Constantinople, stood quite alone in receipt of food-favours. The case of two Italian municipalities, reported on[1669] by Symmachus in 384-5, proves the contrary, and we have no ground for assuming that they were the only instances. The important port-town of Puteoli was granted 150000 _modii_ of corn yearly towards the feeding of the city by Constantine. Constans cut down the allowance to 75000. Constantius raised it again to 100000. Under Julian a complication arose. The governor of Campania found Tarracina in sore straits (evidently for food) because of the failure[1670] of the supplies due from the towns long assigned for that purpose. Now Tarracina had a special claim to support, since it provided Rome with firewood for heating the baths and lime for the repair of the walls. It seems that the governor felt bound to keep this town alive, but had no new resources on which he could draw. So he took 5700 _modii_ from the allowance of Puteoli and gave them to Tarracina. Final settlement was referred to Julian, but not reached before his death in the Persian war (363). The next stage was that a deputation from Capua[1671] addressed the emperor Gratian, confining themselves to complaint of their own losses. By this one-sided representation they procured an imperial order, that the amount of corn allowance which Cerealis[1672] had claimed for the people of Rome should be given back to all the cities deprived of it by his act. But under this order the total recovered for sustenance of the provincials only reached 38000 _modii_ of corn that had been added to the stores of the eternal city. So Puteoli refused to hand over even the 5700 to Tarracina. And the provincial governor did not go carefully into the terms of the order, but ruled in favour of Puteoli. An appeal followed, and it came out that the grant of 5700 to Tarracina was not an ordinary bounty but an earmarked[1673] sum granted in consideration of services to Rome. The governor did not feel able either to confirm it or to take it away. Therefore the matter was referred to the emperors for a final settlement. This strange story gives us a momentary glimpse of things that make no figure in general histories. The abject dependence of the municipalities on imperial favour stands out clearly: not less so the precarious nature of such favours, a feature of the time amply illustrated by the later imperial laws, numbers of which were simply issued to withdraw privileges previously granted, under the stress of needs that made it impossible to maintain them. Again, we see that in addition to the normal jealousy of neighbours the competition for imperial favour was an influence tending to hinder rather than promote cohesion: tending in fact to weaken the fabric now menaced by the tribal barbarians. Above all, this affair strongly suggests the partiality of the central government to town populations. The farmers of the municipal territories were certainly liable to the land-burdens, and were the ultimate basis of imperial finance: but of them there is not a word. Lastly, we may suppose that inter-municipal disputes such as this were not of very frequent occurrence: but we have no reason to believe that this Campanian case was unique. LIV. AMMIANUS. In =Ammianus Marcellinus= (about 330 to 400) we have an oriental Greek from Antioch who passed a great part of his life in the military service of the empire. He had travelled much, campaigned in Gaul and the East, and was an observant man of wide interests, and in his history impartial to the best of his power. Whether in deliberate criticisms, or in casual references, he is an exceptionally qualified and honest witness as to the state of things in the empire. On one important point his evidence is of special value. All through the surviving portion of his work (353-378) he leaves us in no doubt that the internal evils of the empire were weakening it more than the pressure of barbarians from without. He does not argue this in a section devoted to the topic, but he takes occasion to notice the abuses that impaired the prosperity of the Provinces or led directly to grave disasters. The corruption jealousy greed cruelty and general misrule of officials high and low was no secret to him. That the ultimate sufferers from their misdeeds were the poor, and more particularly the poor farmers, may be gathered from many passages. That the centre of this all-pervading disease lay in the imperial court, a focus of intrigue and jobbery that the very best of emperors could never effectively check, he was surely aware. At least it is only on this assumption that we get the full flavour of his references to court-intrigues and his criticisms of emperors, his balanced discussions of their good and bad qualities and the effects of their policy and practice. In truth the whole system was breaking down. It lasted longer in the East than in the West, because the eastern peoples were more thoroughly tamed. They had been used to despotic government long before the coming of Rome. And the assaults of external enemies were more formidable and persistent in the North and West than in the South and East. Yet, so long as the empire held together, imperial despotism was inevitable. Neither Ammianus nor any other writer of that age did or could offer a possible alternative. Christianity might capture the empire and spread among the barbarians, but it had no constructive solution for the problems of imperial government. A remarkably plain-spoken passage[1674] occurs in reference to the events of 356, where he describes the administration of Julian in Gaul. By his victories over the Germans he relieved the impoverished Gauls, but this was by no means his only benefit. For instance, where he found at his first coming a tax-unit[1675] of 25 gold pieces demanded as the _tributum_, at his departure (360) he left things so much improved that seven of these sufficed to meet all dues. Great was the joy in Gaul. As a particular example of his thoughtful care, Ammianus cites his policy in the matter of arrears of tribute. There were occasions, especially in provinces liable to invasion, when it was certain that such arrears could not be recovered in the ordinary course. It was not to the interest of the central government to ruin or turn adrift farmers whose places it would not be easy to fill. This consideration was no doubt used to procure from emperors orders of remission, _indulgentiae_[1676] as they were called. Julian to the last would not give relief by thus waiving the imperial rights. ‘For he was aware[1677] that the effect of that step would be to put money into the pockets of the rich; the universal practice, as everyone knows, being for the poor to be made to pay up the due amount in full directly the order of collection is issued, and allowed no time of grace.’ It seems then that it was not the amount of the imperial taxation, but the iniquities perpetrated in connexion with its collection, that were the real burden crushing the vitality of the Provinces. So thought Julian, rightly: and in the next year we find him firmly upholding his principles in the face of exceptional difficulties. The emperor Constantius had felt compelled to make Julian Caesar, and to place him at the head of the Western section of the empire. But his jealousy and fear of the Caesar’s winning glory in Gaul led him to surround Julian with officers devoted to himself and secretly encouraged to hamper their titular chief in every possible way. The court of Constantius was a hotbed of intrigue and calumny. Private reports of the doings of Julian were being regularly received. Any reforms that he was able to make in Gaul had to be effected in the teeth of imperial malignity. A flagrant instance[1678] is seen in the efforts made to thwart his reforming energy during the winter of 357-8. After defeating and humbling aggressive German tribes, he set himself to relieve the distress of the landowners, who had suffered great losses. There was at the time a great need of money. The praetorian prefect of the Gauls, Florentius, proposed to raise the sums required[1679] by an additional levy, and procured from Constantius an order to that effect. Julian would rather die than allow this. He knew what would happen in carrying it out, and that such ‘precautions’ (_provisiones_)[1680] or rather destructions (_eversiones_) had often brought provinces into the extremities of want. The Prefect, to whose department the matter in strictness belonged, protested loudly, relying on the powers given him by Constantius. But Julian stood firm, and tried to soothe him by calmly proving that there was no necessity for the proposed measure. Careful calculations shewed that the normal impost (_capitatio_) would produce enough to furnish the needful supplies, and something to spare. He would have nothing to do with the order[1681] for an extra levy. The Prefect duly reported this to Constantius, who reprimanded the Caesar for his obstinacy. Julian replied that the provincials had been exposed to ravages from various quarters, and that if they were still able to render the usual dues[1682] the government had reason to be thankful. To wring more out of men in distress by punishments was impossible. And he did manage to prevent extraordinary exactions in Gaul. In the winter of 358-9 he continued the same policy. He saw to the equitable assessment[1683] of the tribute, and kept at bay the horde of rascally officials who made fortunes[1684] out of injuring the people. The corruption of the law-courts he checked by hearing the important cases himself. No wonder that in an age of Christian emperors the virtuous pagan earned a reputation as a restorer of Roman greatness far beyond the boundaries of Gaul. Whether the fact that adherents of polytheism were now chiefly to be found among rustics (_pagani_) had anything to do with Julian’s clear appreciation of the sufferings of countryfolk, is a question on which I cannot venture to offer an opinion. That all or most of the corn levied by imperial taxation was in the frontier Provinces required for the military commissariat is well known, and the granaries for storing it were a leading feature of permanent camps and garrison towns. The feeding of armies in the field, always wasteful, no doubt consumed a great deal. In the case of Gaul (for to live on the country was starvation to a force invading wild Germany) the quantity to be brought up to the front seems to have been normally more than Gaul could spare. It was usual to rely on the harvests[1685] of Britain. Transport was the main difficulty. Saxon pirates infested the narrow seas, and the navigation of the Rhine was blocked by Franks. Julian’s energy cleared away these obstacles, and saw to the erection or repair of granaries in the Rhineland towns to receive the British corn. These measures enabled him to do without making extra demands on the farmers of Gaul, a step sometimes unavoidable when there was war on the frontiers. Of course such commandeering was very unpopular, and wise generals avoided it whenever possible. Ammianus draws particular attention[1686] to this matter when narrating the campaign of Theodosius in Mauretania (373). He forbade the levy of supplies from the provincials, announcing that he would make the stores of the enemy[1687] provide the commissariat, and the landowners were delighted. Among the interesting references that occur in the course of the work are some that throw further light on the conditions of life in the parts of the empire subject to invasion. It is not necessary to cite the frequent mention of various kinds of fortified posts from great strongholds to mere blockhouses. These remind us that the strength of the imperial armies could never be so maintained as to guard the frontier at all times on all points. Barbarian raiders slipped through[1688] the inevitable gaps, and wide stretches of country were laid waste long before sufficient forces could be gathered to expel them. We do not need the descriptions of their cruel ravages to convince us that agriculture near the Danube or Rhine borders was a perilous calling. If the farmer were not carried away into bondage or slain, he was left robbed of his all, and in imminent danger of starving: for the barbarians ate up everything, and hunger was a principal motive in leading them to come and warning them to return home. Naturally it was the custom in these border-lands to provide fortified refuges here and there in which local farmers could find temporary shelter with their belongings, and homesteads of any importance were more or less equipped for defence. This was the state of things even in Mauretania. We read of a farm[1689] (_fundus_) which the brother of Firmus the rebel leader (373) ‘built up after the fashion of a city’; also of one girt with a strong[1690] wall, a very secure refuge for the Moors, to destroy which Theodosius had to employ battering-rams. These are not the only instances. And forts (_castella_) and walled towns are often referred to. Along the northern borders the necessity for such precautions was much greater. Still it seems that few if any in the latter part of the fourth century foresaw that frontier defences would at no distant date give way before the barbarian flood. A high imperial official, with whose corrupt connivance[1691] gross wrongs had been perpetrated (370) in Africa, on being superseded in office withdrew to his native Rhineland, and ‘devoted himself[1692] to rural affairs.’ The retired ease for which he apparently hoped was soon ended, though not by barbarian raiders. The malignity of a praetorian prefect tracked him to his retreat and by persecution drove him to suicide. This last episode may remind us that the weakening of the empire was not wholly due to failure of an economic kind or to decay of military skill. The farmers might raise crops enough, the armies might prove their superiority in the field, but nevertheless the great organism was in decline. A general mistrust, fatal to loyal cooperation for the common good, was the moral canker by which the exertions of farmer and soldier were hampered and rendered vain. Officials seeking to ruin each other, emperors turning to murders and confiscations as a source of revenue, all classes bound fast in rigid corporations or gilds under laws which it was their study to evade; the failure of individual enterprise, lacking the joy of individual freedom, and the stimulus of expected reward; in short, everyone ready to sacrifice his neighbour to save his own skin: how was a society characterized by such phenomena to maintain a moral advantage over the rude barbarians? That it was now protected by alien swords, that aliens were even commanding[1693] the Roman armies, was not the main cause of its overthrow. As a rule these barbarians kept their bargain, and shed their blood freely for the empire that enlisted them in masses. But we must distinguish between two or three different classes of these alien defenders. The mere mercenaries need not detain us. More significant were the contingents taken over in large bodies by agreement with the tribes. A good instance[1694] is that of the year 376, when a vast host of Goths sought leave to pass the Danube with the hope of settling on vacant lands south of the river. We are told that the Roman commanders on that front got over their first alarm and took the line that really the emperor was in luck. Here was a huge supply of recruits[1695] brought to him from the ends of the earth, an unlooked-for reinforcement ready to be blended with his own troops, and to make up an unconquerable army. Instead of spending the yearly payments of the provinces[1696] on filling up the ranks, the treasury would gain a great sum of gold. It would seem that they reported to the emperor in favour of the request, for Valens granted the petition of a Gothic embassy. Arrangements were made for transporting them over the river, and it was understood that they had leave to settle in the parts of Thrace. But now troubles began. Greedy Roman officials fleeced and maltreated the hungry horde, who were at length driven into rebellion. With the sequel, the great battle (378) near Adrianople, and the death of Valens, we are not here concerned. But the account[1697] of their ravages in Thrace gives us a picture of the countryside in a harassed province and of the slave labour employed. The rebels, unable to take fortified places by regular siege, overran the country in raiding bands. Captives guided them to places stocked with food. But they were especially encouraged and strengthened by the great number of people of their own race who came pouring in to join them. Ammianus describes[1698] these deserters as men who had long before been sold (into slavery of course) by traders, and with them very many whom at the time of their passing the river, when they were perishing of hunger, they had bartered for thin wine or worthless scraps of bread. This scene may serve to remind us that slavery and the sale of slaves to Roman dealers were recognized features of German tribal life as described by Tacitus. It also gives us a glimpse of the way in which opportunities of imperial advantage could be wasted or turned into calamities by the unpatriotic and selfish greed of Roman officials. In this case potential recruits were turned into actual enemies; and the barbarian slaves, who should have been tilling Thracian fields in the interest of Rome, were left to guide and recruit the hostile army of their kinsmen. It must not be supposed that all schemes for raising barbarian troops in large bodies were thus by gross mismanagement brought to a disastrous end. The value of sound flesh and blood in the ranks was well understood, and a successful campaign against German tribes could be made profitable from this point of view. Thus in 377, when Gratian had a whole tribe at his mercy, he required of them a contingent[1699] of sturdy recruits to be incorporated in Roman army-units, on delivery of whom he set free the rest to return to their native homes. That such recruits became under Roman discipline so far Romanized as to provide efficient armies is clear from the victories that still delayed the fall of the empire. But ‘Roman’ was becoming more than ever a mere name-label: there had never been a Roman nation. Of the third class of alien soldiery little need be said. Military colonists of barbarian origin had for a long time past been brought into the empire, some as frontier guards holding land on condition of army service, others more in the interior, even[1700] in Italy; and these latter undoubtedly furnished many recruits, on whatever terms. The general result may be summed up in saying that, when the barbarian invaders at last came to stay, they found their kindred already there at home. LV. CLAUDIAN. In =Claudian=, who wrote about 400, we have another oriental Greek, who wrote chiefly in Latin with far more mastery of that language than Ammianus. Stilicho his patron, the great barbarian head of the Roman army, was at the height of his power, and Claudian’s most congenial occupation was to sing his praises and denounce his opponents. He was also poet laureate of the feeble emperor Honorius. Writing mainly on contemporary themes, he is, if allowance be made for his bias, a witness worth citing; but the passages relevant to the present subject are naturally few. In common with other writers of the later ages of Rome he is constantly looking back to a great and glorious past, contrasting painfully with that present which he nevertheless is striving to glorify. Thus he not only refers with enthusiasm[1701] to the old heroes of Roman history and legend, the common material of Roman literature, but even dreams[1702] of a golden age to be, when the earth of her own accord shall render all good things in abundance to a people living happily in communistic brotherhood. This fancy however is no more than a piece of unreal rhetoric, an echo of Vergil. It is inspired by the victories of Stilicho, and the world-dominion under which this beatific vision is to be realized is—the rule of Honorius. In January 395 the great Theodosius died, and the empire was divided between his two sons. In November, Rufinus, who dominated Arcadius at Constantinople, was murdered. His place was soon taken by the eunuch Eutropius. On these two personages Claudian poured out a flood of invective, speaking for Stilicho and the West. The greed of Rufinus is depicted[1703] as ruinous to the landed interests. ‘The fertility of his land was the ruin of the landlord: a good crop[1704] made the farmers tremble. He drives men from their homes, and thrusts them out of their ancestral borders, either robbing the living or seizing the estates of the dead.’ The jealousy of the West expresses itself in a passage[1705] referring to the famine created in Rome by the rebellion of Gildo in Africa. Honorius (that is Stilicho) is effusively praised for its relief by importations from other Provinces, chiefly from Gaul. That, owing to the claim of the New Rome to the corn of Egypt, the Old Rome should be so dependent on Africa, is a situation indignantly resented[1706] in eloquent lines. A symptom ominous of imperial failure was the attempt to wrest eastern Illyricum from the rule of Arcadius (407-8) an enterprise[1707] secretly concerted between Stilicho and Alaric. Fugitives from Epirus sought refuge in Italy. Stilicho treated them as prisoners of war from an enemy’s country, and handed them over to Italian landlords as slaves or _coloni_. When Alaric and his Goths moved towards Italy, some of these refugees, aided by a law issued for their protection, found their way home again. Claudian unblushingly declares[1708] that none but Stilicho will be able to heal the empire’s wound: ‘at length the _colonus_ will return to his own borders and the court will once more be enriched by the tributes of Illyricum.’ A Roman view of the intruding barbarians and their capacity of peaceful settlement is in one place[1709] put into the mouth of Bellona the war-goddess. She addresses a Gothic chief in bitter sarcasm. ‘Go and be a thorough ploughman, cleaving the soil: teach your comrades to lay aside the sword and toil at the hoe. Your Gruthungians[1710] will make fine cultivators, and tend vineyards in accordance with the seasons.’ She taunts him with degenerating from the good old habits of his race, war and plunder, and scornfully describes him as one captured[1711] by the glamour of fair dealing, who had rather live as a serf on what is granted him than as a lord on what he takes by force. In short, he is a coward. Now no doubt there were Goths and others, Huns in particular, of this war-loving work-hating type approved by the war-goddess. But abundant evidence shews that many, perhaps most, of the barbarians were quite ready to settle down in peace and produce their own food. When Claudian himself speaks[1712] of the ‘Teuton’s ploughshare’ as one of the agencies producing corn that relieved famine in Rome, he is most likely referring to the many Germans already settled in Gaul as well as to inhabitants of the ‘Germanies,’ the two provinces along the Rhine. A curious passage[1713] in the poem on the Gothic war and Stilicho’s defeat of Alaric at Pollentia (402) is of interest in connexion with the Roman army and the recruiting system. Of the confidence revived in Rome by the appearance of Stilicho and his troops a vivid picture is drawn, and he continues ‘henceforth[1714] no more pitiful conscription, no more of reapers laying down the sickle and wielding the inglorious javelin ... nor the mean clamorous jangling of amateur leaders: no, this is the presence of a genuine manhood, a genuine commander, a scene of war in real life.’ If this means anything, it implies that hasty levies[1715] of raw countrymen were notoriously unfit to face hordes of barbarian tribesmen in the field. True, no doubt; professional training had been the basis of efficiency in Roman armies ever since the days of Marius. But the words surely suggest further that conscription within the empire was in Claudian’s time not found a success, that is in producing a supply of fit recruits to keep the legions up to strength. This also was doubtless true, as much other evidence attests, and was the main reason why the ‘Roman’ soldiery of the period were mostly barbarians. But here, as usual, the witness of the court-poet is in the form of admission rather than statement. His business was to be more Roman than Rome. It remains only to mention two similes, one of which perhaps refers to free labour. An old crone[1716] has ‘poor girls’ under her engaged in weaving. They beg for a little holiday, but she keeps them at work ‘to earn their joint livelihood.’ This may be a scene from life, but is more likely an echo from earlier poetry. When he illustrates[1717] the effect of Stilicho’s coming on the peoples rising against Rome by comparing them to slaves, deceived by false report of their lord’s death, and caught revelling by him when he unexpectedly returns, it is a scene that might be enacted in any age. The little poem on the old man of Verona is famous as a picture of humble contentment in rustic life. But the main point of it as evidence is that the case is exceptional. LVI. VEGETIUS. =Vegetius=, a contemporary of Ammianus and Claudian, is credited with two surviving works, one on the military system, the other on veterinary practice. Both are largely compilations, and belong to the class of technical writings which formed a great part of the literature of this age. In discussing army matters the author looks back with regret to the sounder conditions of the past. Speaking[1718] of the quality of recruits, he says ‘It can surely never have been matter of doubt that the common countryfolk are more fit (than townsfolk) to bear arms, reared as they are in toil under the open sky, able to stand the heat of the sun and caring not for the shade, with no experience of baths or knowledge of luxuries, straightforward and frugal, with limbs hardened to endure any kind of toil; for the wearing of armour, digging of trenches, and carrying their kit, are continuations of rustic habit.’ It is true that sometimes town-bred recruits have to be levied, but they need long and careful training to fit them for active service. True, the Romans of old went out to war from the city. But luxury was unknown in those days: the farmer of today was the warrior of tomorrow, by change of weapons. Cincinnatus went straight from the plough to be dictator. A little after, speaking[1719] of the standard of height, he tells us that it has always been usual to have a standard tested by actual measurement, below which no recruit was passed for service in certain crack units. But there were then[1720] larger numbers to draw from, and more men followed the combatant service, for the civil service[1721] had not as yet carried off the pick of those in military age. Therefore, if circumstances require it, strength rather than height should be the first consideration. I am loth to infer much[1722] from this passage, the period referred to in ‘then’ being undefined. What it does shew is that in the writer’s own time a considerable number of men of military age (Romans being meant) were attracted by the civil career of the new imperial service, which in all its grades was technically styled[1723] a _militia_. Nor does it appear certain that in preferring the rustic recruit to the urban Vegetius implies the existence of a plentiful supply of the former among the subjects of the empire. His words rather suggest to me the opposite conclusion, which is in agreement with the evidence from other sources. Turning to the veterinary work (_ars mulomedicinae_) we come upon a chapter devoted[1724] to the management of horses. It is well to keep a free space near the stable for the beasts to get exercise by rolling, for they need exercise. ‘And for this end it is very helpful to have them mounted[1725] often and ridden gently. Unskilful riders spoil both their paces and their temper. Most mischievous is the recklessness[1726] of slaves. When the master is not there, they urge his horses to gallop, using spur as well as whip, in matches of speed with their mates or in fiercely-contested races against outsiders: it never occurs to them to halt or check their mounts. For they give no thought[1727] to what is their master’s loss, being well content that it falls on him. A careful owner will most strictly forbid such doings, and will only allow his cattle to be handled by suitable grooms who are gentle and understand their management.’ We must bear in mind that the horse was not used in agriculture or as an ordinary beast of burden. Horse-breeding was kept up to supply chargers for war, racers for the circus, mounts for men of the wealthier classes in hunting or occasionally for exercise, for solemn processions and such like. When Vegetius treats of a stable or stud of horses, he has in mind the establishment of a gentleman of means, and it is worth noting that such an establishment could be contemplated by a writer of about 400 AD. This harmonizes with the picture of Italian conditions that we get from the letters of Symmachus and other sources. A few rich were very rich, the many poor usually very poor. The carelessness, wastefulness, thievishness, of slaves is a very old story, and in the middle of the fourth century had been bitterly referred to[1728] by the emperor Julian. That Vegetius does not advise the owner of these slave grooms to make a _vilicus_ responsible for seeing that his orders are obeyed, is probably due to the rigidly technical character of the treatise: he is not writing on the management of estates. CHRISTIAN WRITERS LVII. LACTANTIUS. When we turn to the Christian writers, whom it is convenient to take by themselves, we pass into a different atmosphere. Of rhetoric there is plenty, for most of them had been subjected to the same literary influences as their Pagan contemporaries. But there is a marked difference of spirit, more especially in one respect very important from the point of view of the present inquiry. Christianity might counsel submission to the powers that be: it might recognize slavery as an institution: it might enjoin on the slave to render something beyond eye-service to his legal master. But it could never shake off the fundamental doctrine of the equal position of all men before their Almighty Ruler, and the prospect of coming life in another world, in which the standards and privileges dominating the present one would go for nothing. Therefore a Christian writer differed from the Pagan in his attitude towards the poor and oppressed. He could sympathize with them, not as a kindly though condescending patron, but as one conscious of no abiding superiority in himself. The warmth with which the Christian witnesses speak is genuine enough. The picture may be somewhat overdrawn or too highly coloured, and we must allow for some exaggeration, but in general it is surely true to fact. First comes =Lactantius=, who has already[1729] been once quoted. Writing under Constantine, he speaks of the Diocletian or Galerian persecution as a contemporary. The passage[1730] to be cited here describes the appalling cruelty of the fiscal exactions ordered by Galerius to meet the pressing need of the government for more money. It was after the abdication of Diocletian and Maximian in 305. The troubles that ensued had no doubt helped to render financial necessities extreme. The remark, that he now practised against all men the lessons of cruelty learnt in tormenting the Christians, must refer to Galerius. The account of the census[1731], presumably that of 307, is as follows. ‘What brought disaster on the people and mourning on all alike, was the sudden letting loose of the census on the provinces and cities. Census-officers, sparing nothing, spread all over the land, and the scenes were such as when an enemy invades a country and enslaves the inhabitants. There was measuring of fields clod by clod, counting of vines and fruit trees, cataloguing of every sort of animals, recording of the human[1732] heads. In the municipalities (_civitatibus_) the common folk of town and country put on the same[1733] footing, everywhere the market-place crammed with the households assembled, every householder with his children and slaves. The sounds of scourging and torturing filled the air. Sons were being strung up to betray parents; all the most trusty slaves tortured to give evidence against their masters, and wives against husbands. If all these means had failed, men were tortured for evidence against themselves, and when they broke down under the stress of pain they were credited with admissions[1734] never made by them. No plea of age or infirmity availed them: informations were laid against the invalids and cripples: the ages of individuals were recorded by guess, years added to those of the young and subtracted from those of the old. All the world was filled with mourning and grief.’ In short, Romans and Roman subjects were dealt with as men of old dealt with conquered foes. ‘The next step was the paying[1735] of moneys for heads, a ransom for a life. But the whole business was not entrusted to the same body of officials (_censitoribus_); one batch was followed by others, who were expected to make further discoveries: a continual doubling of demands went on, not that they discovered more, but that they made additions arbitrarily, for fear they might seem to have been sent to no purpose. All the while the numbers of live stock were falling, and mankind dying; yet none the less tribute was being paid on behalf of the dead, for one had to pay for leave to live or even to die. The only survivors were the beggars from whom nothing could be wrung, immune for the time from wrongs of any sort by their pitiful destitution.’ He goes on to declare that, in order to prevent evasion of the census on pretence of indigence, a number of these poor wretches were taken out to sea and drowned. In this picture[1736] we may reasonably detect high colouring and perhaps downright exaggeration. Probably the grouping together of horrors reported piecemeal from various quarters has given to the description as a whole a somewhat deceptive universality. That the imperial system, though gradually losing ground, held its own against unorganized barbarism for several more centuries, seems proof positive that no utter destruction of the economic fabric took place in the census to which Lactantius refers. But that the pressure exerted by the central power, and the responsive severity of officials, were extreme, and that the opportunities for extortion were seized and cruelly used, may fairly be taken for fact on his authority. This was not the beginning of sufferings to the unhappy tillers of the soil, nor was it the end. One census might be more ruinous to their wellbeing than another: it was always exhausting, and kept the farmers in terror. But they had not as yet reached the stage of thinking it better to bear the yoke of barbarian chieftains than to remain under the corrupt and senseless maladministration of imperial Rome. LVIII. SULPICIUS SEVERUS. The life and doings of the famous saint of Gaul, Martin of Tours, a Pannonian by birth, were chronicled by =Sulpicius Severus=, writing soon after 400, in an enthusiastic biography still in existence. In another work occurs a passage[1737] narrating one of his hero’s many miracles; and the story is too artlessly illustrative of the behaviour of the military and the state of things on the public roads, not to be mentioned here. Martin was travelling on his ecclesiastical duties, riding on an ass with friends in company. The rest being for a moment detained, Martin went on alone for a space. Just then a government car (_fiscalis raeda_) occupied by a party of soldiers was coming along the road. The mules drawing it shied at the unfamiliar figure of the saint in his rough and dark dress. They got entangled in their harness, and the difficulty of disentangling them infuriated the soldiers, who were in a hurry. Down they jumped and fell upon Martin with whips and staves. He said not a word, but took their blows with marvellous patience, and his apparent indifference only enraged them the more. His companions picked him up all battered and bloody, and were hastening to quit the scene of the assault, when the soldiers, on trying to make a fresh start, were the victims of a miracle. No amount of beating would induce the mules to stir. Supernatural influence was suspected and made certain by discovery of the saint’s identity. Abject repentance was followed by gracious forgiveness, and mules and soldiers resumed their journey. Now the point of interest to us is the matter-of-fact way in which this encounter is narrated. That a party of the military should bully peaceful civilians on the high road is too commonplace an event to evoke any special comment or censure. But it is clearly an edifying fact that violence offered to a holy man did not escape divine punishment. There is no suggestion that similar brutality to an ordinary rustic would have met with any punishment human or divine. Laws framed for the protection of provincials[1738] against illegal exactions and to prevent encroachments of the military[1739] remained on the statute-book, but in remote country parts they were dead letters. It is interesting to recall that Martin had in his youth served for some years as a soldier. As the son of a veteran, his enrolment[1740] came in the ordinary course. But, though he is said to have been efficient, he did not like the profession and got his discharge with relief. His life covered about the last three quarters of the fourth century. LIX. SALVIAN. The calamities that befel the Roman world in the fourth century led to much recrimination between Pagan and Christian, each blaming the other for misfortunes generally regarded as the signal expression of divine wrath. Symmachus had been answered by Ambrose, and Christian interpretation of the course of human history produced its classic in Augustine’s great work _de civitate Dei_ early in the fifth century. About the same time Orosius wrote his earnest but grotesque _historiae adversus paganos_, an arbitrary and superficial distortion of history, interesting as a specimen of partisan composition. But it is not till the middle of the century that we come upon a Christian author who gives us a graphic picture of the sufferings of the people in a Province of the empire, and a working theory of their causes, strictly from a pious Christian’s point of view. This is =Salvian=, an elder of the Church at Massalia. His evidence is cited by all historians, and must be repeated here. The main thesis is that all the woes and calamities of the age are judgments of God provoked by the gross immorality[1741] of the Roman world. So far from imputing all vices and crimes to the Heathen and the Pagan, he regards them as shared by all men: but he draws a sharp line between those who sin in ignorance, knowing no better, and those who profess the principles of a pure Christianity and yet sin against the light that is in them. For the barbarians are either Heathen or Heretics (he is thinking of the Arians), while in the empire the Orthodox church prevails. And yet the barbarians prosper, while the empire decays. Why? simply because even in their religious darkness the barbarians are morally superior to the Romans. For our present purpose it is the economic and social phenomena as depicted by Salvian that are of interest, and I proceed to give an abstract of the passage[1742] in which he expounds his indictment of Roman administration and the corrupt influences by which it is perverted from the promotion of prosperity and happiness to a cause of misery and ruin. The all-pervading canker is the oppression of the poor by the rich. The heavy burdens of taxation are thrown upon the poor. When any relief is granted, it is intercepted by the rich. Franks Huns Vandals and Goths will have none of these iniquities, and Romans living among those barbarians also escape them. Hence the stream of migration sets from us to them, not from them to us. Indeed our poor folk would migrate in a body, but for the difficulty of transferring their few goods their poor hovels and their families. This drives them to take another course. They put themselves under the guardianship and protection of more powerful persons, surrendering[1743] to the rich like prisoners of war, and so to speak passing under their full authority and control. But this protection is made a pretext for spoliation. For the first condition of protection is the assignation[1744] of practically their whole substance to their protectors: the children’s inheritance is sacrificed to pay for the protection of their parents. The bargain is cruel and one-sided, a monstrous and intolerable wrong. For most of these poor wretches, stripped of their little belongings and expelled from their little farms, though they have lost their property, have still to bear the tribute on the properties lost: the possession is withdrawn, but the assessment[1745] remains: the ownership is gone, but the burden of taxation is crushing them still. The effects of this evil are incalculable. The intruders (_pervasores_) are settled down (_incubant_) on their properties, while they, poor souls, are paying the tributes on the intruders’ behalf. And this condition passes on to their children. So they who have been despoiled by the intrusion[1746] of individuals are being done to death by the pressure of the state (_publica adflictione_), and their livelihood is taken from them by squeezing as their property was by robbery. Some, wiser or taught by necessity, losing their homes and little farms through intrusions or driven by the tax-gatherers to abandon them through inability to keep them, find their way to the estates of the powerful, and become[1747] serf-tenants (_coloni_) of the rich. Like fugitives from the enemy or the law, not able to retain their social birthright, they bow themselves[1748] to the mean lot of mere sojourners: cast out of property and position, they have nothing left to call their own, and are no longer their own masters. Nay, it is even worse. For though they are admitted (to the rich men’s estates) as strangers (_advenae_), residence operates to make them[1749] natives of the place. They are transformed as by a Circe’s cup. The lord of the place, who admitted them as outside[1750] aliens, begins to treat them as his own (_proprios_): and so men of unquestioned free birth are being turned into slaves. When we are putting our brethren into bondage, is it strange[1751] that the barbarians are making bondsmen of us? This is something beyond[1752] mere partisan polemic. It finds the source of misery and weakness in moral decay. Highly coloured, the picture is surely none the less true. The degradation of the rustic population presents itself in two stages. First, the farmer, still owning his little farm (_agellus_, _rescula_), finds that, what with legal burdens and illegal extortions, his position is intolerable. So he seeks the protection[1753] of a powerful neighbour, who exploits his necessities. Apparently he acquires control of the poor man’s land, but contrives to do it in such a form as to leave him still liable to payment of the imperial dues. That this iniquity was forbidden[1754] by law mattered not: corrupt officials shut their eyes to the doings of the rich. From the _curiales_ of the several communities no help was to be looked for. Salvian declares[1755] that they were tyrants to a man. And we must not forget that they themselves were forced into office and held responsible for paying in full the dues they were required to collect. The great machine ground all, and its cruel effects were passed on from stronger to weaker, till the peasant was reached and crushed by burdens that he could not transmit to others. The second stage is the inevitable sequel. The poor man’s lot is more intolerable than before. His lesson is learnt, and he takes the final step into the status of a rich man’s _colonus_. Henceforth his lord is liable[1756] for his dues, but he is himself the lord’s serf, bound to the soil on which his lord places him, nominally free, but unable to stir from the spot[1757] to which his labour gives a value. If he runs away, the hue and cry follows him, and he is brought ignominiously back to the servile punishment that awaits him—unless he can make his way to some barbarian tribe. Whether he would find himself so much better off in those surroundings as Salvian seems to imply, must be left doubtful. Any family that he might leave behind would remain in serfage under conditions hardly improved by his desertion. LX. APOLLINARIS SIDONIUS. The last of our array of witnesses is =Apollinaris Sidonius=[1758] (about 430-480), a writer whose life is singularly illustrative of the confused period in which the Roman empire was tottering and the series of luckless emperors was ended in the West. Britain had been finally lost in the time of Honorius. The Armorican provinces had rebelled, and even now the hold of Rome on them was slight and precarious. The rest of Gaul and much of Spain and Africa had been subject to barbarian inroads, and numbers of the invaders were settled in the country: for instance, the Western Goths were fully established in Aquitania. But the Roman civilization was by no means wiped out. Roman landlords still owned large estates: Romans of culture still peddled with a degenerate rhetoric and exchanged their compositions for mutual admiration. Panegyrics on shadowy emperors were still produced in verse and prose, and the modern reader may often be amazed to note the way in which the troubles of the time could be complacently ignored. Above all, there was the Church, closely connected with Rome, claiming to be Catholic and Orthodox, a stable organization, able to make itself respected by the barbarians. That the latter were Arian heretics was indeed a cause of friction, though the Arians were destined to go under. The conversion of the Franks under the Catholic form did not give Roman Christianity the upper hand till 496. But the power of bishops, ever growing[1759] since the days of Constantine, was throughout a powerful influence holding the various communities together, maintaining law and order, and doing much for the protection of their own people. A native of Lugudunum, the chief city of Gaul, Sidonius came of a noble and wealthy family, and his social position evidently helped him in his remarkable career. In 468 he was city prefect at Rome, barely eight years before Odovacar removed the last of the titular Western emperors. We find him anxiously concerned[1760] with the old food-question, like his predecessor Symmachus, and not less endeavouring to cooperate harmoniously with the _praefectus annonae_. For a hungry rabble, no doubt fewer in number, still hung about the Eternal city, though its services in the way of applause were no longer in appreciable demand. From about 471 Sidonius was bishop[1761] of Arverni (Clermont in Auvergne), and performed his difficult duties with efficiency and dignity, a sincerely pious man with a good deal of the _grand seigneur_ about him. Moving about on duty or seeking restful change, he was often visiting country houses, his own or those of friends, receiving or returning hospitality. His references to these visits lead to descriptions[1762] of many pleasant places, and pictures of life in the society of cultivated gentlemen to which he belonged. There is hardly any mention of the suffering farmers of whom Salvian speaks so eloquently. Yet I hesitate to charge Salvian with gross exaggeration and imaginative untruth. Not only do the two men look from different points of view. Sidonius is writing some twenty years later than Salvian, and much had happened in the meantime. The defeat of Attila in 451 by the armies of the Romans and Western Goths had not only saved Gaul from the Huns, but had greatly improved the relations between Goth and Roman. And it is to be noted that, in a passage[1763] mentioning the victory of the allies and the reception of Thorismund the Gothic king as a guest at Lugudunum, Sidonius praises his correspondent[1764] for his share in lightening the burdens of the landowners. Now Salvian knows nothing of the battle of 451, and indeed does not regard the Huns as being necessarily enemies of Rome. It seems certain that for the rustics things were changed for the better. Not that the farmer was his own master, but that the great Roman taxing-machine was no longer in effective action. A great part of Gaul had passed under Teutonic lords. If the subjects were exposed to their caprice, it was of a more personal character, varying with individuals and likely to be modified by their personal qualities. This was a very different thing from the pressure of the Roman official hierarchy, the lower grades of which were themselves squeezed to satisfy the demands of the higher, and not in a position to spare their victims, however merciful their own inclinations might be. But though the establishment of barbarian kingdoms, once the raiding invasions were over, had its good side from the working farmer’s point of view, much of the old imperial system still lingered on. The power of the Catholic Church stood in the way of complete revolution, and the Church was already[1765] a landowner. Roman traditions died hard, and among them it is interesting to note the exertion of private interest on behalf of individuals and causes in which an honourable patron felt some concern. Thus we find Sidonius writing[1766] on behalf of a friend who wants to buy back an ancestral estate with which recent troubles have compelled him to part. Great stress is laid on the point that the man is not grasping at pecuniary profit but actuated by sentimental considerations: in short, the transaction proposed is not a commercial one. The person addressed is entreated to use his influence[1767] in the applicant’s favour; and we can only infer that he is asked to put pressure on the present owner to part with the property, probably to take for it less than the market price. Another letter[1768] is to a bishop, into whose district (_territorium_) the bearer, a deacon, fled for refuge to escape a Gothic raid. There he scratched a bit of church-land and sowed a little corn. He wants to get in his crop without deductions. The bishop is asked to treat him with the consideration usually shewn to the faithful[1769]; that is, not to require of him the season’s rent[1770]. If this favour is granted him, the squatter reckons that he will do as well as if he were farming in his own district, and will be duly grateful. Very likely a fair request, but Sidonius does not leave it to the mere sense of fairness in a brother bishop. To another bishop he writes a long letter[1771] of thanks for his thoughtful munificence. After the devastation of a Gothic raid, further damage had been suffered by fires among the crops. The ensuing distress affected many parts of Gaul, and to relieve it this worthy sent far and wide bountiful gifts of corn. The happy results of his action have earned the gratitude of numerous cities, and Sidonius is the mouthpiece of his own Arverni. The affair illustrates the beneficence of good ecclesiastics in troubled times. For Gaul was not enjoying tranquil repose. The barbarians were restless, and the relations[1772] between their kings and the failing empire were not always friendly. Religious differences too played a part in preventing the coalescence of Gallo-Roman and Teuton. The good bishop just referred to is praised by Sidonius as a successful converter of heretics. The fine country houses with their vineyards and oliveyards and general atmosphere of comfort and plenty shew plainly that the invasions and raids had not desolated all the countryside. The first need of the invaders was food. Wanton destruction was not in their own interest, and the requisitioning of food-stuffs was probably their chief offence, naturally resented by those who had sown and reaped for their own consumption. If we admit this supposition, it follows that their operations, like those of other successful invaders, would be directed mainly to the lowland districts, where most of the food-stuffs were produced. Now the country houses of Sidonius and his friends were, at least most of them, situated in hilly country, often at a considerable distance from the main[1773] roads, among pleasant surroundings which these kindly and cultivated gentlemen were well qualified to enjoy. It is evident that some, perhaps many, of these snug retreats were not seriously[1774] molested, at all events in southern and south-eastern Gaul. Roughly speaking, the old and most thoroughly Romanized provinces, the chief cities of which were Lugudunum and Narbo, were still seats (indeed the chief seats) of Roman civilization. It was there that the culture of the age survived in literary effort sedulously feeding on the products and traditions of the past. Sidonius thinks it a pity[1775] that men of education and refinement should be disposed to bury their talents and capacity for public service in rural retreats, whether suburban or remote. The truth probably was that town life had ceased to be attractive to men unconcerned in trade and not warmly interested in religious partisanship. The lord of a country manor, surrounded by his dependants, could fill his store-rooms and granaries[1776] with the produce of their labour. He still had slaves[1777] to wait on him, sometimes even to work on the land. With reasonable kindliness and care on his part, he could be assured of comfort and respect, the head of a happy rustic community. The mansions of these gentry, sometimes architecturally[1778] fine buildings, were planted in spots chosen for local advantages, and the library was almost as normal a part of the establishment as the larder. Some of the owners of these places gave quite as much of their time and attention to literary trifling as to the management of their estates. The writing of letters, self-conscious and meant for publication, after the example of Pliny the younger, was a practice of Sidonius. The best specimen of this kind is perhaps the long epistle[1779] in which he describes minutely a place among the foot-hills of the Alps. Every attraction of nature seconded by art is particularized, down to the drowsy tinkling of the bells on the mountain flocks accompanied by the shepherd’s pipe. No doubt the effective agriculture[1780] of Gaul had little in common with these Arcadian scenes. The toiling _coloni_, serfs of a barbarian chief or a Roman noble, were all the while producing the food needed to support the population; and it is a convincing proof of the superficiality of Sidonius as an observer of his age that he practically ignores them. To attempt a full description of society in Roman Gaul of the fifth century is quite beyond my scope. It has already been admirably done by Sir Samuel Dill. But there are a few points remaining to be discussed as relevant to my subject. That the decline of the middle class, and the passing of large areas of land into few hands, was a process forwarded by inability to pay debts incurred, is extremely probable. It had been going on for many centuries. But I do not see that the evidence of Sidonius suggests that this evil was in his time especially prevalent. The case cited[1781] is peculiar. The borrower is expressly stated not to have mortgaged any of his land. The loan was only secured by a written bond which fixed the interest[1782] at 12% per annum. This had been ten years in arrear, and the total debt was now doubled. The debtor fell ill, and pressure was put on him by officials employed to collect debts. I infer that the lack of real security prompted this dunning of a sick man, for fear the personal security might lapse by his death. Sidonius, a friend of the creditor, undertook to plead with him for at least some stay of action. This man had lately been ordained, and Sidonius (not yet himself in orders, I think,) was evidently surprised to note the simple religious life led by him in his country villa. And he needed little entreaty, but acted up to what he considered his duty to a brother Christian. He not only granted further time for payment, but remitted the whole of the accrued interest, claiming only the principal sum lent. Such conduct may have been, and probably was, exceptional; but I cannot argue from it that heartless usurers were eating up the small landowners of Gaul. So too the case of the young man[1783] of good position who cast off a slave mistress and wedded a young lady of good family, reputation, and property, may have been exceptional. Sidonius takes it all very coolly, and mildly improves the occasion. A far more interesting affair is one in a lower station of life, of which I must say a few words. In a brief letter[1784] to his friend Pudens he says ‘The son of your nurse has raped my nurse’s daughter: it is a shocking business, and would have made bad blood between you and me, only that I saw at once you did not know what to do in the matter. You begin by clearing yourself of connivance, and then condescend to ask me to condone a fault committed in hot passion. This I grant, but only on these terms, that you release[1785] the ravisher from the status of a Sojourner, to which he belongs by birth; thus becoming his patron instead of his lord. The woman is free already. And to give her the position of a wedded wife, and not the plaything of caprice, there is but one way. Our scamp for whom you intercede must become your Client[1786] and cease to be a Tributary, thus acquiring the quality of an ordinary Commoner rather than that of a Serf.’ Sidonius is as usual ready to make the best[1787] of a bad job. From his proposal I draw the following conclusions. First, as to the nurses. The _nutrix_, like the Greek τροφός, held a position of trust and respect in the household, consecrated by immemorial tradition. No slave had a higher claim to manumission, if she desired it. It would seem that Sidonius’ ‘mammy’ was ending her days as a freedwoman, and hence her daughter was free. It looks as if the nurse of Pudens were still a slave, and her son an _inquilinus_ on the estate of Pudens. He may very well have been tenant of a small holding, practically a serf-tenant. Pudens is still his _dominus_. His quality of _inquilinus_ attaches to him in virtue of his _origo_; that is, he is registered in the census-books[1788] as a human unit belonging to a particular estate and taken into account in estimating taxation-units. Therefore he is _tributarius_[1789]. Sidonius proposes to divest him of the character of serf and make him an ordinary Roman citizen. The difference this would make is probably a purely legal one. Being at present a Serf, probably in strict law a slave also, his connexion with the girl is a _contubernium_. His manumission[1790] (for such it really is) will enable him to convert it into a _matrimonium_, carrying the usual legal responsibilities. The practical change in his economic position will probably be nil. He will still remain a dependent _colonus_, but he may perhaps enjoy the privilege of paying his own share[1791] of taxes. That Sidonius speaks of his present condition first as Inquilinate and then as Colonate, is one of many proofs that the two terms now connoted virtually[1792] the same thing. Such had already been stated as a fact in a law of Honorius, which was retained by Tribonian in the code of Justinian. Whether the _inquilini_ were barbarian bondsmen (_hörige_), tenants bound to the soil like _coloni_ but the personal property of their landlords, as Seeck holds; or usually descendants of _coloni_, as Weber thought; is more than I can venture to decide. I do not think that either hypothesis[1793] exhausts all the possibilities, and the point is not material to the present inquiry. In any case it can hardly be doubted that both classes consisted of men who worked with their own hands, only aided in some cases by slave labour which was far from easy to procure. LXI. CONCLUDING CHAPTER. After so long a discussion of the surviving evidence, it is time to sum up the results and see to what conclusions the inquiry leads us in respect of the farm life and labour of the Greco-Roman world. And first as to the figures of the picture, the characters with whose position and fortunes we are concerned. We find three classes, owner farmer labourer, clearly marked though not so as to be mutually exclusive. We can only begin with ownership in some form, however rudimentary; for the claim to resist encroachment on a more or less ill-defined area is a phenomenon of even the rude life of hunter-tribes. How private property grew out of common ownership is a question beyond the range of the present inquiry. It is enough that the owner, whether a clan or a family or an individual, has a recognized right to use the thing owned (here land) and to debar others from doing so. But it is clear that he may also be the actual manager of its use: he may even supply in person all the labour needed for turning it to account: in short, he may be his own farmer and his own labourer. And legend asserts or implies that such was the primitive condition of man when he passed from nomadic to settled existence. Differentiation of function is therefore a product of time and circumstance, a development varying in date and degree among various races and in various portions of the world. Once the stage of civilization is reached at which the regular cultivation of the same piece of land year by year is the normal means of sustaining human life, we meet the simplest economic figure, the peasant who supplies his own needs by his own methods, tilling the soil which in some sense he claims as his own. Whether it is his own permanently as an individual, or temporarily as a member of a village community, is a difference immaterial from the present point of view. Nor does it matter that his method of dealing with the land may be regulated by principles conventional in the society to which he belongs. Delegation of management is a momentous step, destined to bring important unforeseen consequences. Many reasons may have rendered it necessary or at least convenient. It appears in two forms, the actual and relative dates of which are hardly to be determined with certainty. Either the owner keeps the profit of the undertaking and bears the loss, or some division of profit and loss between the owner and the manager is the condition of the arrangement between the two parties. Ownership is not abdicated: nor is it easy to see how, without a clear recognition of ownership, any system of delegation could arise. But on the first plan the owner owns not only the land but the service of his delegate. Whether the man be a client bound to his patron by social custom, or an agent earning a wage, or a slave the property of his master, he is merely a servant in charge. He can be superseded at any moment at the landowner’s will. The free tenant on the other hand is a creature of contract, and his existence presupposes a community in which the sanctity of deliberate bargains is considerably developed. Whether the tenant’s obligation consists in the payment of a fixed rent in money or kind, or in a share of produce varying with the season’s crop, does not matter. He is bound by special law, however rudimentary; and it is the interest of the community to see that such law is kept in force: for no one would enter into such bargains if their fulfilment were not reasonably assured. Whether a certain reluctance to enter into such a relation may perhaps account for the rare and doubtful appearance of tenancy in early Roman tradition, or whether it is to be set down simply to defects of record, I do not venture to decide. The landlord’s obligation is to allow his tenant the enjoyment and free use of a definite piece of land on certain terms for a stipulated period. Further stipulations, giving him the right to insist on proper cultivation and the return of the land in good condition at the end of the tenancy, were doubtless soon added at the dictation of experience. That tenant farmers with their families usually supplied labour as well as management, is surely not to be doubted. That, in the times when we begin to hear of this class as non-exceptional, they also employed slave labour, is attested: that we do not hear of them as engaging free wage-earners, may or may not be an accidental omission. Labour, simply as labour, without regard to the possible profit or loss attending its results, was no more an object of desire, engaged in for its own sake, in ancient times than it is now. Domestication of animals, a step implying much attentive care and trouble, was a great advance in the direction of securing a margin of profit on which mankind could rely for sustenance and comfort. The best instance is perhaps that of the ox, whose services, early exploited to the full, were cheaply obtained at the cost of his rearing and keep. Hence he was kept. But in ages of conflict, when might was right, the difference[1794] between an ox-servant and a man-servant had in practice no existence, and the days of theory were as yet in the far future. A human enemy, captured and spared, could be put to use in the same way as a domesticated ox. His labour, minus the cost of his keep, left a margin of profit to his owner. At the moment of capture, his life was all he had: therefore his conqueror had deprived him of nothing, and the bargain was in his favour, though economically in his owner’s interest. No wonder then that our earliest records attest the presence of the slave. Even nomad tribes were attended by slaves[1795] in their migrations, nor indeed has this custom been wholly unknown in modern times. On the other hand it is remarkable how very little we hear of wage-earning labour in ancient agriculture. Nothing seems to imply that it was ever a normal resource of cultivation. When employed, it is almost always for special work at seasons of pressure, and it seems to have remained on this footing, with a general tendency to decline. In other words, the margin of profit on the results of wage-earning labour seemed to employers less than that on the results of slave labour, so far as ordinary routine was concerned. And we are not in a position to shew that in their given circumstances their judgment was wrong. But we need to form some notion of the position of the wage-earning labourer in a civilization still primitive. The main point ever to be borne in mind is that the family household was a close union of persons bound together by ties of blood and religion under a recognized Head. A common interest in the family property carried with it the duty of common labour. The domestic stamp was on everything done and designed. Even the slave had a humble place in the family life, and family religion did not wholly ignore him. He was there, and was meant to stay there. Farm-work was the chief item in the duties of the household, and he bore, and was meant to bear, his full share of it. But the hired labourer stood in no such relation to the household union, however friendly his connexion with his employer might be. He did his work, took his wage, and went: no tie was severed by his going, and any other person of like capacity could fill his place if and when the need for help-service arose. In short, his labour was non-domestic, irregular, occasional: and therefore less likely to receive notice in such records as have come down to us. But if we conclude (as I am inclined to do) that wage-labour was not much employed on the land in early times, we must admit that this is rather an inference than an attested tradition. The distinction between domestic regular service and non-domestic help-service is essential, and on a small holding from which a family raised its own sustenance the line of division was easy to draw. Later economic changes tended to obscure it, and we find Roman jurists[1796] of the Empire striving to discover a full and satisfactory answer to a much later question, namely the distinction between a domestic and a rustic slave. But by that time ‘domestic’ appears as ‘urban,’ for the effect of centuries has been to draw a really important line of division, not between slave and free but between two classes of slaves. There is however in the conditions of early slavery, when ‘domestic’ and ‘rustic’ were merely two aspects of the same thing, another point not to be overlooked, since it probably had no little influence on the development of human bondage. It is this. The human slave differs from the domesticated ox through possession of what we call reason. If he wished to escape, he was capable of forming deep-laid plans for that purpose. Now the captives in border wars would be members of neighbouring tribes. If enslaved, the fact of being still within easy reach of their kindred was a standing temptation to run away, sure as they would be of a welcome in their former homes. No kindness, no watchfulness, on the master’s part would suffice to deaden or defeat such an influence. To solve the problem thus created, a way was found by disposing of captives to aliens more remote and getting slaves brought from places still further away. This presupposes some commercial intercourse. In the early Greek tradition we meet with this slave-trade at work as a branch of maritime traffic chiefly in the hands of Phoenician seamen. In Italy we find a trace of it in the custom[1797] of selling ‘beyond Tiber,’ that is into alien Etruria. At what stage of civilization exactly this practice became established it is rash to guess: we cannot get behind it. The monstrous slave-markets of the historical periods shew that it developed into a normal institution of the ancient world. But it is not unreasonable to suppose that an alien from afar was less easily absorbed into his master’s family circle than a man of a neighbouring community though of another tribe. Are we to see in this the germ of a change by which the house-slave became less ‘domestic’ and tended to become a human chattel? The exploitation of some men’s labour for the maintenance of others could and did take another form in ages of continual conflict. Successful invaders did not always drive out or destroy the earlier inhabitants of a conquered land. By retaining them as subjects to till the soil, and making the support of their rulers the first charge upon their produce, the conquerors provided for their own comfort and became a leisured noble class. In the Greek world we find such aristocracies of a permanently military character, as in Laconia and Thessaly. Colonial expansion reproduced the same or very similar phenomena abroad, as in the cases of Heraclea Pontica and Syracuse. The serfdom of such subject populations was a very different thing[1798] from slavery. It had nothing domestic about it. There is no reason to suppose that the serf was under any constraint beyond the regular performance of certain fixed duties, conditions imposed by the state on its subjects, not the personal orders of an individual owner. In some cases at least the serf seems to have enjoyed a measure of protection[1799] under public law. Whether the original Roman _plebs_ stood on much the same footing as the Greek serfs is perhaps doubtful, but their condition presents certain analogies. The main truth is that the desire of conquerors to profit by the labour of the conquered was and is an appetite almost universal: moral revulsion against crude forms of this exploitation is of modern, chiefly English, origin; even now it is in no small degree a lesson from the economic experience of ages. But it is well to remember that we use ‘serfdom’ also as the name for the condition of rural peasantry in the later Roman Empire, and that this again is a different relation. For it is not a case of conquered people serving their conquerors. Rather is it an affliction of those who by blood or franchise represent the conquering people. Step by step they sink under the loss of effective freedom, though nominally free, bound down by economic and social forces; influences that operate with the slow certainty of fate until their triumph is finally registered by imperial law. That the institution of Property is a matter of slow growth, is now generally admitted by sincere inquirers. It had reached a considerable stage of development when a clan or household (still more when an individual) was recognized as having an exclusive right to dispose of this or that material object presumably useful to others also. For instance, in the right of an owner to do as he would with an ox or a slave. Individual property in land was certainly a later development, the appropriation being effected by a combination of personal acquisitiveness with economic convenience. From my present point of view the chief interest of the property-question is in its connexion with debt-slavery. That farmers, exposed to the vicissitudes of seasons, are peculiarly liable to incur debts, is well known from experience ancient and modern. But ancient Law, if rudimentary, was also rigid; and tradition depicts for us the small peasant as a victim of the wealthy whose larger capital enabled them to outlast the pressure of bad times. How far the details of this picture are to be taken literally as evidence of solid fact has not unreasonably been doubted. But that a farmer in straits could pledge not only his land but his person as security for a debt seems hardly open to question. For we find the practice still existing in historical periods, and political pressure exerted to procure mitigation of the ancient severity. Now, if a man gave himself in bondage to a creditor until such time as his debt should be discharged, he became that creditor’s slave for a period that might only end with his own life. Here we have another way in which the man of property could get the disposal of regular labour without buying a slave in the market or turning to work himself. A later form of the practice, in which a debtor worked off his liability[1800] by service at an estimated rate, a method of liquidation by the accumulation of unpaid wages, seems to have been a compromise avoiding actual slavery. Evidently subsequent to the abolition of debt-slavery, it died out in Italy, perhaps partly owing to the troublesome friction that would surely arise in enforcing the obligation. It is natural to ask, if we find small trace of eagerness to labour in person on the land, and ample tradition of readiness to devolve that labour on slaves and subjects, how comes it that we find agriculture in honour, traditionally regarded as the manual labour beyond all others not unworthy of a freeman? To reply that human life is supported by the produce of the land is no sufficient answer. To recognize the fact of necessity does not account for the sentiment of dignity. Now, in the formation of such unions as may fairly be called States, the commonest if not universal phenomenon is the connexion of full citizenship with ownership of land. Political movement towards democracy is most significantly expressed in the struggles of landless members of inferior right to gain political equality. Whether the claim is for allotments of land, carrying a share of voting-power, or for divorcing the voting-power from landholding, does not matter much here. At any rate it was the rule that no alien could own land within the territory of the state, and state and territory were coextensive. Only special treaties between states, or a solemn act of the sovran power in a state, could create exceptions to the rule. From this situation I would start in attempting to find some answer to the above question. In a village community I think it is generally agreed that all true members had a share of the produce, the great majority as cultivators, holding lots of land, not as tenants at will or by contract, but in their own right, though the parcels might be allotted differently from time to time. If a few craftsmen were left to specialize in necessary trades for the service of all, and drew their share in the form of sustenance provided by the cultivating members, the arrangement presented no insuperable difficulty on a small scale. But the tillers of the soil were the persons on whose exertions the life of the community primarily and obviously depended. The formation of a larger unit, a State, probably by some successful warrior chief, made a great change in the situation. A city stronghold established a centre of state life and government, and villages exchanged the privileges and perils of isolation for the position of local hamlets attached to the common centre of the state, and in this new connexion developing what we may fairly call political consciousness. Under the new dispensation, what with growth of markets, the invention of coined money, and greater general security, the movement towards individual property proceeded fast. Noble families engrossed much of the best land: and tradition[1801] credibly informs us that in one mode or other they imposed the labour of cultivation on the poorer citizens, of course on very onerous terms. At this point in the inquiry some help may be got from taking the military view. War, at least defensive war, was a possibility ever present. Kings, and the aristocracies that followed them, had as their prime function to secure the safety of the state. A sort of regular force was provided by the obligation of army service that rested upon all full citizens. The warrior nobles and their kinsmen formed a nucleus. But the free peasant farmers were indispensable in the ranks, and, as their farms usually lay near the frontier, they furnished a hardy and willing militia for border warfare. The craftsmen, smith potter cobbler etc, were now more concentrated in the city, and were always regarded as ill-fitted for service in the field. Naturally the classes that bore a direct part in defence of the state stood higher in general esteem. But to say this is not to say that bodily labour on the land was, as labour, honoured for its own sake. The honour belonged to those who, owning land, either worked it with their own hands or employed the labour of others. I can find no trace of traditional respect for the labourer as labourer until a much later age, when a dearth of free rustic labourers had begun to be felt. Then it appeared in the form of yearning[1802] for a vanished past, side by side with humanitarian views in relation to slavery. Meanwhile a stage had been traversed in which slavery was recognized as necessary in spite of its admitted evils, and therefore requiring justification; a movement most clearly illustrated by the special pleading of Aristotle. That great writer was fully alive to the manifold merits of the farmer class as citizens and producers, but his trust in the power of self-interest proves him a confirmed individualist. How to combine self-interest with patriotic devotion to the common welfare is the vital problem, even now only solved ideally on paper. That coldly-reasoned conclusions of thinkers were really the foundation of the esteem in which we find the working farmer held, I cannot believe. Much more likely is it that it sprang mainly from immemorial tradition of a time when ownership and cultivation went together, and that theory merely absorbed and revived what was still an indistinct impression in the minds of men. The Greeks had a significant word, ἀυτουργός, the usage of which may serve to illustrate my meaning. That it connotes the fact of a man’s bearing a personal part in this or that work is clear on the face of it. That no other person also bears a part, is sometimes implied by the context, but it is not necessarily contained in the word itself. To put it differently, he does his own work, not necessarily all his own work. I note two points in connexion with it that seem to me important. First, it is so often used as descriptive of rustic labour that it seems to have carried with it associations of farm-life: most of the other uses are almost metaphorical, some distinctly so. Secondly, I have never found it applied to the case of a slave. Why? I think, because it conveyed the further notion of working not only yourself but for yourself. If in some passages it is not quite certain that an owner (rather than a tenant) is referred to, surely this extension of meaning is not such as to cause surprise. It is not enough to suggest serious doubt that the common and full sense of the word was that a man did work with his own hands on his own account on his own land. This was the character to which immemorial tradition pointed; and, whenever tenancy under landlords began, the word fitted the working tenant-farmer well enough. The Romans had the tradition in the most definite form, though Latin furnished no equivalent word. Their literature, moralizing by examples and unapt for theory, used it as material for centuries. But neither in the Greek world nor in Italy can I detect any reason for believing that the peasant farmer, idealized by later ages, is rightly to be conceived as a person unwilling to employ slave labour—if and when he could get it. The tradition, in which rustic slaves appear from very early times, seems to me far more credible than late legends of a primitive golden age in which there were no slaves at all. That a man, to be enslaved, must first have been free, is a piece of speculation with which I am not here concerned. Tradition then, looking back to times when landowner and citizen were normally but different sides of the same character, both terms alike implying the duty of fighting for the state, idealized and glorified this character with great but pardonable exaggeration of virtues probably not merely fictitious. The peasant citizen and producer was its hero. As the devolution of bodily labour upon slaves or hirelings became more common with the increase of commerce and urban life, and the solid worth of a patriot peasantry became more evident in the hour of its decay, men turned with regret to the past. And the contrast of the real present with an idealized past naturally found a significant difference in the greater or less willingness of men to work with their own hands, particularly on the land. But it was the labour of free citizens, each bearing an active part in the common responsibilities of the state and enjoying its common protection, that was glorified, not labour as in itself meritorious or healthy. The wholesomeness of rustic toil was not ignored, but to urge it as a motive for bodily exertion was a notion developed by town-bred thinkers. That it coloured later tradition is not wonderful: its recognition is most clearly expressed in the admission of superior ‘corporal soundness’ in the sparely-fed and hard-worked slave or wage-earner. But labour as labour was never, so far as I can learn, dignified and respected in Greco-Roman civilization. Poverty, not choice, might compel a man to do all his own work; but, if he could and did employ hired or slave labour also, then he was an ἀυτουργός none the less. This I hold to be an underlying fact that Roman tradition in particular is calculated to obscure. It was voluntary labour, performed in a citizen’s own interest and therefore a service to the state, that received sentimental esteem. The power of military influences in ancient states is often cited as a sufficient explanation of the social fact that non-military bodily labour was generally regarded with more or less contempt. The army being the state in arms, the inferiority of those who did not form part of it though able-bodied was manifest to all. This is true as far as it goes, but there was something more behind. Why does not the same phenomenon appear in modern states with conscript armies, such as France or Italy or above all Switzerland? I think the true answer is only to be found by noting a difference between ancient and modern views as to the nature and limits of voluntary action. It is only of states in which membership is fairly to be called citizenship that I am speaking; and as usual it is Greek conditions and Greek words that supply distinct evidence. Not that the Roman conditions were materially different, but they were perhaps less clearly conceived, and the record is less authentic and clear. Now, beyond the loyal obedience due from citizen to state, any sort of constraint determining the action of one free man by the will of others was feared and resented to a degree of which we cannot easily form an adequate notion. In the gradual emancipation of the commons from the dominion of privileged nobles, the long struggle gave a passionate intensity to the natural appetite for freedom. And the essence of freedom was the power of self-disposal. This power was liable to be lost permanently by sale into slavery, but also from time to time by the effect of temporary engagements. The most obvious instance of the latter condition was the bondage created by unpaid debt. Hence the persistent and eventually successful fight to make it illegal to take a borrower’s person as security for his debt. But, suppose the debt cancelled by the seizure of his goods, the man was left a pauper. His only resource was to work for wages, and this placed him for the time of his engagement at the full disposal[1803] of his employer. If he was not a master’s slave for good and all, he would be passing from master to master, ever freshly reminded of the fact that his daily necessities subjected him to the will of others, nullifying his freeman’s power of self-disposal. If he worked side by side with slaves, there was a further grievance. For the slave, in whom his owner had sunk capital, had to be kept fed and housed to retard his depreciation: the free labourer depended[1804] on his wage, liable to fail. The situation, thus crudely stated, was intolerable. In practice it was met, first by devotion to handicrafts as a means of livelihood in which the winning of custom by skill relieved the worker from direct dependence on a single master; but also by allotments of land in annexed territory, and sometimes (as at Athens) by multiplication of paid state-employments. Of ordinary artisans, as distinct from artists, it may be said that their position varied according as their special trades were more or less esteemed by contemporary sentiment. The successful could and did employ[1805] helpers, usually slaves. In urban populations they were an important element, particularly in those where military considerations were not predominant. The accumulation of capital, and the introduction of industries on a larger scale in factory-workshops with staffs of slaves, may have affected some trades to their disadvantage, but on the whole the small-scale craftsmen seem generally[1806] to have held their ground. Unskilled labour on the other hand was generally despised. It was as a matter of course chiefly performed by slaves. If a citizen was compelled by want to hire out his bodily strength, this was not voluntary: complete submission to another’s will, even for a short time, made the relation on his part virtually servile. Accordingly philosophers, when they came to discuss such topics, came to the conclusion that the need of such unskilled labour proved slavery to be ‘according to nature,’ a necessary appliance of human society. When the Stoic defined a slave as a lifelong hireling, he gave sharp expression to what had long been felt as a true analogy. For, if the slave was a lifelong hireling, the hireling must be a temporary slave. Romans could borrow the thought, but with them practice had preceded theory. In making comparisons between wage-earning ancient and modern we come upon a difficulty which it is hardly possible to set aside or overcome. A slave could be hired from his owner, just as a freeman could be hired from himself. The difference between the two cases would be clearly marked[1807] in the modern world, and language would leave no room for misunderstanding. But many passages in ancient writers leave it quite uncertain whether the hirelings referred to are free or slave. The point is an important one, particularly to inquirers who attempt to estimate the relative economic efficiency of free and slave labour. For the immediate interest of the freeman is to get a maximum of wage for a minimum of work: the ultimate interest of the hired slave was often to improve his own prospect of manumission. The custom was to allow the slave to retain a small portion of his wage. Now this stimulus to exertion was manifestly to the interest of the employer, who may even have made it a part of his bargain with the owner. The slave, alive to the chance of laying up a little store for the eventual purchase of his freedom, was induced to work well in order to be kept employed on these terms. The owner drew a steady income from his capital sunk in slaves, and the system was thus convenient to all parties. We may add that, by causing a slave to take thought for his own future, this plan encouraged him to take reasonable care of his own health, and so far retarded his progressive deterioration as an investment; while his owner stood to recover the slave’s hoarded wage-portion in the form of redemption-money on manumission of his worn-out slave. There is reason to think that slave labour under these conditions was often more efficient than free. Unhappily we have no direct discussion of the question from ancient observers, who did not take this point of view, though well aware of the influence of prospective manumission in producing contentment. But how far was this comparatively genial arrangement applicable to the ruder forms of unskilled labour? Take for instance mining. Freemen would have none of it, and the inhuman practices of exploiters were notorious. Yet hired slaves were freely employed. Owners knew that their slaves were likely to waste rapidly under the methods in use, and at Athens a common stipulation was that on the expiry of a contract the gang hired should be returned in equal number, the employer making good the losses certain to occur in their ranks. Here we have the mere human chattel, hopeless and helpless, never likely to receive anything but his keep, as an engine receives its fuel and oil, but differing in this, that he was liable to cruel punishment. Such labourers could not work for a freedom that they had no prospect of living to enjoy. And how about the case of agriculture? That freemen did work for wages on farms we know, but we hear very little of them, and that little almost entirely as helpers at certain seasons. So far as I have been able to learn, free wage-labour did not really compete with slave labour in agriculture: moreover the hired man might be a hired slave, while migratory harvesters, probably freemen, appear at least in some cases as gangs hired for the job under a ganger of their own, responsible to the employer for their conduct and efficiency. Most significant is the almost complete absence of evidence that rustic slaves had any prospect of manumission. In former chapters I have commented on this fact and noted the few faint indications of such an arrangement. At all events the crude plantation-system, while it lasted, was a work-to-death system, though worn-out survivors may have had a better lot than miners, if allowed to exist as old retainers on the estate. But cultivation by slave labour for the purpose of raising an income for the landlord was, even in its later improved organization, a system implying brutal callousness, if not downright cruelty. Slave stewards and overseers, at the mercy of the master themselves, were naturally less concerned to spare the common hands than to escape the master’s wrath. When writers on agriculture urge that on all grounds it is wise to keep punishments down to a minimum, the point of their advice is surely a censure of contemporary practice. Now in modern times, humanitarian considerations being assumed, the prevailing point of view has been more and more a strictly economic and industrial one. It has been assumed that the freedom of an individual consists first and foremost in the freedom to dispose of his own labour on the best available terms. And this freedom rests on freedom to move from place to place in search of the best labour-market from time to time. But the movement and the bargaining have been regarded as strictly voluntary, as in a certain sense they are. The power to migrate or emigrate with the view of ‘bettering himself’ is conferred on the wage-earner by modern facilities for travel, and new countries readily absorb additional labour. But experience has shewn that free bargaining for wages is not seldom illusory, since the man of capital can bide his time, while the poor man cannot. Still, when every allowance has been made on this score, it is true that the modern labourer, through freedom of movement, has far more power of self-disposal than the wage-earner of the Greco-Roman world. That his position is strengthened and assured by the possession of political power, is not without ancient analogies: but a difference in degree if not in kind is created by the wide extension of the franchise in modern states, and its complete separation in principle from the ownership of land. That is, the basis of citizenship is domicile: for citizen parentage is not required, but easily supplemented[1808] by legal nationalization. Moreover, religion is no longer a necessary family inheritance, but the choice of individuals who can generally gratify their preferential sentiments in surroundings other than their birthplace. Compare this position with the narrow franchises of antiquity and their ineffectiveness on any large scale, their normally hereditary character, the local and domestic limitation of religious ties, the restricted facilities for travel, not to mention its ever-present perils. Remember that to reside in another state as an alien did not, in default of special treaty or act of legislative grace, give the resident any claim to civic rights in his place of residence, while misfortune might at any time reduce him to slavery in a foreign land. Surely under such conditions the limits of purely voluntary action were narrow indeed. The lure of the wage and the fear of unemployment are often a severe form of pressure, but they are, as fetters on freedom, a mere nothing in comparison with this. Considerations such as those set forth in the preceding paragraphs shew that in treating of ancient agriculture and farm-labour we are apparently faced by a curious paradox. Cultivation of land (including the keeping of live stock) is an honourable pursuit. That good health, sustenance, even comfort and profit, are its natural attendants, is not doubted. But the position of the labouring hands is painful and mean, so much so that a common punishment for urban house-slaves was to send them to work on a farm. The rustic slave’s lot differed for the better from that of the mine-slave in the healthier nature of the occupation, but in little else. And this degradation inevitably reacted on the estimate of rustic wage-earners, whenever employed. There may have been less repugnance to work side by side with slaves than has been felt in modern times, when a marked colour-line implied the disgrace of a ‘white’ man doing ‘niggers’ work.’ But it is not to be doubted that in agriculture as in other occupations the presence of slavery did degrade labour, at all events so soon as agriculture put on anything of an industrial character. The really ‘respectable’ person was the man who directed the operations, the γεωργός, _agricola_, or _colonus_ (in the original sense): he was the man who worked the land and made it yield crops, whether he took part in the actual digging and ploughing or not. The larger the scale, the more he confined himself to direction, necessarily; but he was the producer, a pillar of public economy, none the less. He had provided the labour, bought or hired; in effect, the labour was his own. With the toiling yeoman farmer of tradition he had this in common, that both worked for themselves, not for another. And this position, attractive in all societies, was marked out with peculiar distinctness through the institution of slavery underlying the social fabric. Exploitation of man by man, the first beginnings of which elude our search and are only ascertained by inference, suggests some sort of superiority in the upper party. At all events the master, the man who has the upper hand, gets the credit of achievement, and in agriculture as elsewhere the subordinate operative is inevitably forgotten. It is from this point of view that we must regard the fine Roman legends of sturdy farmer-citizens, the fathers of the Republic. They are idylls conveying truth, dressed up by the imagination of a later age: and have their place in the region where history and poetry meet and blend. We must not gather from them that slavery was exceptional or a fact of no importance. Tradition habitually ignores what is normal and therefore assumed. The fairer inference is that, as I have already remarked, slavery was in those early days still a family institution, not an industrial system. Some help towards the understanding of the different position of manual labour in ancient times as compared with modern may be got by considering Abolitionism. That a slave is a man, and as such not to be wholly ignored in respect of the claims of common humanity; that slave-labour is listless and ineffective, giving poor returns in proportion to the strength employed; these conclusions, moral and economic, were reached by the thinkers of the ancient world while their civilization was in full bloom. Why then do we find no movement corresponding to the Abolitionism of modern times? Two things were obviously necessary for such a movement; the motive to inspire it, and the force to give effect to it. Let men once be convinced that slavery is both wrong and unprofitable, and let them have the power to insist on putting an end to it, Abolitionism in some form or other is the necessary result. Now in speaking of ancient conditions we must never lose sight of the fact that in its origin slavery was a favour. By the undissembled rule of force the conquered only retained his life through the mercy of the conqueror. By a contract tacit or expressed he was pledged for life to the service and profit of his master. And the master could, if his interest pointed that way, make over his rights to a third party. Hence the growth of a slave-market, and the relation of master and slave no longer was normally that of individual conqueror and conquered. But the original notion was by no means extinct, and it continued to colour the current view of slavery as ‘natural,’ a thing of course, an unquestioned social fact. Nor was there anything in the condition of the slave to arouse a feeling of horror, so long as patriarchal rule prevailed. If the Head of the family possessed absolute power over the slave, his power over members of the family in general was in kind the same. The bondman, a humble dependant rather than a mere chattel, was in a sense also a member of the family and under the protection of the household gods. What was there for an observer, let him be ever so kind-hearted, to object to? Accordingly, as the state developed, it too kept slaves of its own, employing them in mean functions for which it was needful to have a staff always at hand. In short, the institution was taken for granted, and growing intercourse with foreigners only served to reveal its universal prevalence. How came it then that in course of time humanitarian scruples arose, and questioners were found to argue that the system was ‘unnatural’ and wrong? The answer must be sought in the application of an originally domestic institution to industrial ends. Once the stage was reached at which the products of labour were habitually put on the market, and the producer got his living by their regular sale, it was soon discovered that to produce and deal on a larger scale was more economical, and therefore more profitable, than on a smaller one. In the handicrafts this was so obvious that slave assistants were commonly kept by tradesmen: it was important to be sure of having the necessary help when wanted. The same was the case in the professions based on special training: the surgeon, the architect, the surveyor, the banker, employed slave subordinates, and had often been slaves themselves. In all these departments, not to mention domestic service, the position of the slave was affected by two important considerations. First, he was one of a few, and under immediate observation, so that escape from servitude was practically impossible. Secondly, there was a reasonable chance of earning manumission by long faithful service. But there were occupations in which it was far more difficult to reconcile the interests of the slave with those of the master. Such were the exploitation of mines and quarries, in which labour was simply applied in the form of brute force under direction. The direction, usually entrusted to slave or freedman overseers, was generally unsympathetic, sometimes cruel; for the overseer’s first thought was to please his master, even if he could only do so by working the slaves to death. The extension of agriculture as a means of profit rather than subsistence created conditions of the same kind in this occupation. It was here that the monstrous abuses incidental to slavery were most strikingly displayed. For, while quarries and mines were only worked in a few localities, the plan of working great landed estates by the labour of slave-gangs was applicable to vast areas of the best soil. And in Africa Sicily and Italy we find it so applied for the profit of the nobles and capitalists of a conquering race. The evils of this system may be set down to the account of obsequious stewards heartlessly wringing profit for their masters out of human flesh and blood. But we must not ignore two considerations which suggest that the root of the evil lay not in the caprice or greed of individuals but in the attempt to carry on rural industry by slave labour at all. In the country, opportunities of escape were many; the slave-prison and the fetters could hardly be dispensed with if you meant to keep your farm-hands at disposal. And manumission, as a means of encouraging good service, was evidently not of much avail in country places. For after long years of exhausting labour the worn-out slave would be unable to earn a living by hard bodily work; and he knew no other. He had been bought as a flesh-and-blood machine; as such, to manumit him while still efficient would be a sacrifice of sunk capital for which nobody was prepared. It seems that the ordinary practice was to keep him at work till he could work no longer, and then to let him linger on the estate as an invalid retainer, feeding on what he could get and decaying in peace. But the industrializing of agriculture, heartlessly selfish in its aims, tempted landlords to shirk the unprofitable maintenance of spent labourers. When a slave was no longer worth his keep, it might pay to sell him at once for what he would fetch. There was thus a mouth less to be fed, and the problem of how to turn the remnant of his strength to account was shifted on to his new owner. This plan, approved by the elder Cato as a detail of farm-economy, marks the change of relations between master and slave in rustic life. The old domestic relation has disappeared in the brutal exploitation of a human animal for immediate profit. The crudely industrial system reproduced on great estates the horrid phenomena of the quarry and the mine. That humane and thoughtful men should be disgusted with such doings was inevitable, and disgust was soon reinforced by reasonable alarm. For tillage was not the sole occupation of rustic enterprise. It was found that in many districts grazing paid better than tillage, and the two could be worked together remuneratively on a large scale. The charge of flocks and herds, shifting their pasture according to seasons, led to employment of able-bodied slaves in a duty responsible and at the same time removed from immediate control for months together. These slave herdsmen, hardy and used to a free life in wild uplands, had to face wolves and robbers, and therefore to bear arms. We need not dwell on the danger from such a class menacing the peace of a country unprotected by rural police. It was real enough. Being slaves, they had nothing but their lives to lose, and their lives it was their owners’ interest to protect. Meanwhile the unescorted traveller was at their mercy, and any peasants within reach would pay blackmail to escape their raids. Yet nothing was done to get rid of the nuisance and peril of this state of things. Servile risings were clumsily put down with appalling bloodshed, and left to recur. Meanwhile the free population of the countryside diminished, and prosperity could not be restored by new slave-gangs. Such was notoriously the condition of a great part of rural Italy under the later Republic, and contemporary evidence clearly shews that the improvement effected under the Empire was slight. Now, when experience had proved the blighting influence of slavery, why was there no movement to do away with the system altogether? Truth is, there was at present no basis to start from. The moral enthusiasm, often sincere, that has inspired such movements in modern times, had no effective existence. Moral considerations were almost entirely confined to a section of rich or cultivated society. It was not expected that the common herd should rise above the meanest motives of crude self-interest. The artisan, who either employed, or hoped soon to employ, a slave or two, was not likely to condemn slavery: the parasitic loafer was not likely to welcome a mass of new competitors for the doles and bribes that he undeservedly enjoyed. During the last century of the Roman Republic no opposition to slavery as an institution could have arisen from the urban populace. And the wealthier classes were interested in slavery. Religion did not touch the question. A few scrupulous and thoughtful men might have supported an anti-slavery movement, had there been one; but we have not the smallest reason to think that any individual ever dreamt of starting humanitarian propaganda on his own account and at his own risk. There was no place in the ancient world for the reformer of this type. Even those leaders whose policy offered advantages to the free masses, such as the Gracchi or some Spartan kings, did not so fare in their enterprises as to encourage imitation. As for appealing to the slaves themselves, it was only desperate adventurers who did so, and that only to use their force in promoting criminal designs. Such cases only served to justify the cruel execution of cruel laws for protecting masters and the state in general from the imminent slave-peril. If we turn from the city, in which what passed for politics ran its troubled and futile course, to the countryside, we are at once in a scene from which all political life had departed. The farmer-citizens grew fewer and fewer, and the great majority of them were virtually disfranchised by distance. Nor were they likely to favour any movement that seemed to be for the benefit of slaves. The establishment of the Empire did not, indeed could not, produce any material change in the way of arousing effective sentiment hostile to slavery. But it did much to promote internal order and far-reaching peace. Under the new model of government the corrupt circles of nobles and greedy capitalists were no longer in absolute control of the civilized world, and it might seem that there was now some chance of dealing with the canker of slavery. But no such movement was the result. Old notions remained in full vigour. Augustus had his hands too full, and the need of conciliating private interests was too pressing, for him to disturb them, even had he been minded to do so. And who else could take the initiative? But the fate of two moral influences is worth noting. Stoicism, the creed of not a few ardent spirits, might profess to rise superior to worldly distinctions and advantages and assert the potential dignity of man even in the humblest condition of life. But it was always a creed of the few: its aloofness, tending to a certain arrogance, made it unfitted[1809] to lead a great reform: it neither would nor could furnish the machinery of zealous propaganda. In the earlier Empire we find it politically allied with malcontent cliques in which smouldering resentment at the restraints on ‘freedom’ expressed itself by idealizing the Republic and hoping for a reaction. Thus it lost itself in impracticable dreams, and the hand of emperors under provocation sometimes fell heavily on its most virtuous men. The spread of Christianity came later, and was not diverted from its aims by a social affinity with the upper classes. Slaves bore no small part in its expansion to the West, and it was free to operate steadily as a humanitarian influence. But its claim to universality naturally exposed it to grave suspicion in a world that knew religion only as an affair of each several community, with a sort of overlordship vested in the conquering gods of Rome. Though it was a Church and not a philosophic system, though meant for all mankind and not for a cultivated few, it could only win its way by accepting civilization[1810] in the main as it stood. Therefore it was compelled to accept slavery as an institution, and to content itself with inculcating humanity on masters and conscientious devotion to duty on slaves. If Abolitionism was to spring from this seed, a long time had to be spent in waiting for the harvest. Yet the establishment of the Empire did lead to effects that in their turn served as contributory causes undermining the old slave-system, particularly[1811] in agriculture. In a more peaceful age fewer slaves were brought to market, and this meant higher prices and put a premium on the economical employment of bought labour. To meet the situation, agricultural policy was developed on two lines, each of which was the improvement or extension of an existing practice. One was the more scientific organization of the labour-staff, so as to get better results from an equal amount of labour. The other was a more frequent resort to the plan of letting farms to tenants, whenever that arrangement seemed favourable to the landlord’s interest. Of these developments we have direct information from Columella, who still prefers the former plan wherever feasible. But it was with the system of tenancies on various conditions that the future really lay. I have endeavoured above to sketch the process[1812] by which tenants were gradually reduced to a condition of dependency on their landlords, and the difficulty of finding and keeping good tenants that was the other side of the movement. A very significant detail is the fact that slaves were put into farms[1813] as tenants: that this was no unusual practice is clear from the way in which the classical jurists refer to it as a matter of course. And so things slowly moved on, with ups and downs, the tenants slave or free becoming more and more bondsmen of the land, liable to task-services and not free to move at will. Thus by usage, and eventually by law, a system of serfdom was established, while personal slavery declined. Looked at from an Abolitionist point of view, we are here dealing with a sheer evasion of the slavery-question. But this was inevitable. The imperial government, which alone had the power necessary for attempting solutions of grave problems, was doomed to become more and more mechanical. Under great strains in the third century it lost its vital forces to such a degree that it was powerless for internal betterment. The later despotic Empire, seeing the failure of past policy, could find no better way than to do as before[1814], only more mechanically and more thoroughly. What little of freedom of movement and of self-disposal still remained to the toiling classes accordingly disappeared. Once a certain number had been slaves; now none were practically free. Diminution of personal slavery had not increased personal freedom. The attempt to confine all labour to fixed grooves and rigid rules was a last desperate effort to control and employ the resources of ancient civilization, in the hope of thus finding means sufficient to endure the ever-growing strain upon the empire. This system might serve its purpose for the moment, but it was a vain device, killing enterprise and working out its own ruin through its own stagnation. In agriculture, on which the whole fabric rested, its effects were particularly ruinous: for in no occupation is there greater need of constant forethought and loving care, which the prospect of private advantage alone can guarantee. All these phenomena may assure us that as yet there was no clear understanding of the value of free self-disposal as the economic basis of society. From the moral point of view no genuine progress was to be looked for in a stagnant age. The transition from normal slavery to gild-bondage and normal land-serfdom does not seem to have been affected by the spiritual levelling of Christianity. But that as she gained power, the Church did something to mitigate[1815] the hardness of the time, is not to be doubted. I need not dwell at length on the contrast presented by modern anti-slavery movements. The influence of religion, personal and humanitarian, is alone enough to account for the new spirit aroused and organized by Clarkson and Wilberforce. To put down the slave-trade because it was wrong was a momentous step, and emancipation its inevitable corollary, costly though it might be. That the reform was carried out two generations before the handworking masses of England gained political power is a most notable fact. For it is not possible to connect the achievement with the natural jealousy of free labour objecting to competition of slave labour. In the United States the motives for Abolition were necessarily more mixed, but sincere fanatics, religious and violent, were the leaders of the crusade. But the repugnance of free labour to the recognition of slavery in any part of the Republic (and it was this sentiment that furnished the necessary voting-power) was not so purely philanthropic. Students of American history are well aware of the moral change brought about by a single mechanical invention in the southern states. The economic advantages of the cotton-gin made slavery so profitable that existing tendencies towards emancipation died out in the South. A new life was given to a confessed evil, and the developed plantation-system, industrialized for the profit of a few, went down the road of fate to end in tragedy. The result of the great civil war at all events settled one question. Henceforth labour was to stand on a footing of self-disposal and wage-earning, with freedom to improve its conditions on those lines. The solution, obtained at an awful cost, was final for the time: what will be its ultimate outcome is at present (1919) a matter of some doubt, for reasons not to be discussed here. The fact that Abolitionism is a phenomenon of the modern[1816] world, and not of the ancient, will not seem insignificant to those who have read widely in the ancient writers and remarked how very little we hear of free wage-earning labour. If we deduct the references to independent artisans practising trades on a small scale (and their cases are not relevant here), what we hear of mere wage-earners is very little indeed. And of this little again only a part concerns agriculture. I take it that we may fairly draw one conclusion from this: the wishes of the free wage-earning class, whatever their numbers may have been, were practically of no account in the ancient world. From first to last the primitive law of superior force, the ‘good old rule’ of which slavery was a product, was tacitly accepted. Civilization might undergo changes of character, periods of peace might alternate with periods of war: still bondage and labour were closely connected in men’s minds, and honest labour as such commanded no respect. How could it? Of a golden age, in which all men were free and slavery unknown, we have nothing that can be called evidence. The curtain rises on a world in which one man is at the full disposal of another. What is at first a small domestic matter contains the germ of later developments; and in the case of agriculture we see clearly how demands of an industrial nature transformed single bond-service into the wholesale and brutal exploitation of human chattels in slave-gangs. We have no good reason to believe that men ever in the ancient world abstained from employing slave labour out of humanitarian scruples. Scarcity of slaves, or lack of means to buy them, were certainly the main restrictive influences. The institution was always there, ready for extension and adaptation as changing conditions might suggest. If ancient civilization did not rest on a basis of slavery, on what did it rest? Assuredly not on free self-disposal. The man free to dispose of himself claimed the right to dispose of others, up to the limits of his own power and will. In this there is nothing wonderful. We need not flatter ourselves that the rule of force is now extinct. True, personal bondage to individuals is forbidden by law, but effective freedom of self-disposal, perhaps an impossible dream, is not yet realized: only its absence is dissembled under modern forms. When I say that ancient civilization rested on a basis of slavery, the condition present to my mind is this. A social and political structure requires for its stability a reasonably sound economic foundation. This foundation is found in the assured and regular use of natural resources. And this use implies the constant presence of an obedient labour-force that can be set to work and kept working as and when needed. This force is now more and more supplied by machinery, the drudge that cannot strike. Antiquity made the slave its quasi-mechanical drudge: the more or less of slavery at a given moment simply depended on circumstances. In returning to my original questions, whether the growth of Greco-Roman civilization was in fact achieved through the system of slavery, and whether it could conceivably have been accomplished without slavery, I have I think given my answer to the first, that is, so far as agriculture is concerned. And agriculture was the vital industry, on which the whole fabric principally rested. As to the second question, I can give no satisfactory answer. For my part, I agree with those who hold that, in the conditions of antiquity as depicted in our traditions and inferred by modern inquirers, slavery in some form and degree was an indispensable condition of progress. States, organizations of a lasting kind, had to be established by force. Captive labour, added to the resources of conquerors, seems to be a powerful means of increasing their economic strength and abridging the wasteful periods of conflict. But, once the stage had been reached at which a state was sufficiently stable and strong to provide for order within and to repel invaders, a slave-system became a canker, economic, social, ultimately political. I believe that the maladies from which the old Greco-Roman civilization suffered, and which in the end brought about its decay and fall, were indirectly or directly due to this taint more than to any other cause. I know of no case ancient or modern in which a people have attained to a sound and lasting prosperity by exploiting the servitude of other men. Serfdom or slavery, it matters not. So far as human experience has gone, it appears that all such conditions are eventually ruinous[1817] to the rulers. For it is not merely the degradation of manual labour that results from slavery. The deadening of inventive genius and economic improvements is fatally promoted through the tendency to remedy all shortcomings by simply using up more flesh and blood. Man abdicates a most important function of his reason, and accepts a mere superiority of animal over animal. This is surely not following the true law of his development. It is from this point of view that the great scientific inventions of modern times present an encouraging spectacle, as the earlier abuses of their exploitation are gradually overcome, and the operative citizen vindicates his claims as a human being. That ancient slavery did in some ways act for good by guaranteeing leisure to classes some of whom employed it well, may be freely admitted. But I do not think we can sincerely extend the admission to include the case of Politics, whatever Greek philosophers may have thought. Nor can we without reservations apply it in the field of Art. On the other hand Literature surely owed much to the artificial leisure created by slavery. Even in its most natural utterances Greco-Roman literature is the voice of classes privileged because free, not restrained by the cramping influences of workaday life and needs. Its partisan spirit is the spirit of the upper strata of society, ignoring the feelings, and often the existence, of the unfree toilers below. In the main aristocratic, it tells us next to nothing of the real sentiments of even the free masses, particularly on the labour-questions that have now for some time increasingly occupied the public mind. That we are, for good or for evil, viewing all matters of human interest on a different plane from that of the ‘classic’ writers, is a consideration that students of the Past are in duty bound never to forget. But, when we are told[1818] that ancient civilization in its early stages (as seen in the Homeric poems etc) may fairly be labelled as Medieval, while it may be called Modern when in its full bloom, we shall do well to pause before accepting a dogma that may imply more than we are prepared to grant. That mankind had to make a fresh start in the Middle Ages, ancient civilization having run its course and failed, is a proposition dangerously true. If it implies that the ‘free’ labour of modern times is not a direct development from ancient slavery, so far good. If we are to hold that ancient slave labour and modern free labour, when and so far as each is a factor of economic importance, are practically identical phenomena of capitalism eager to make a profit out of cheap labour, we may ask—is the parallelism so exact as it is thus represented to be? When we are told that the capitalist would nowadays prefer to employ slave labour if it were to be had, and that the legal form in which labour is supplied is a secondary consideration from the economic point of view, we begin to hesitate: is this really true? Was not the ineffectiveness of slave labour detected in ancient times? Was it not proved to demonstration in America, as attested by the evidence of both Northern and Southern witnesses? To reply that what capital wants is not mere slave labour but efficient slave labour, would be no answer. Capital is not, and never was, blind to the inefficiency of slave labour as compared with free labour. In the pursuit of profit it needs a supply of labour at its immediate and certain disposal; therefore it takes what it can get. In the ancient world the unquestioned institution of slavery offered a source of supply, not ideal, but such as could be relied on. Therefore capital employed slavery to extend its operations, simply turning existing conditions to account. And the admission, that the most flourishing period of Greco-Roman civilization was also the period in which slavery reached its greatest development, is surely a virtual denial that the basis of that civilization was free labour. That is, free wage-earning labour. For the independent farmer or artisan had nothing to do with the matter: he worked for himself, not for another, and was on a different plane from either wage-earner or slave. If he did not employ either wage-earner or slave, it was because he found such help too costly or a doubtful boon. The case of agriculture at once reveals what was found to be the strong point of slave labour, the feasibility of employing it in large masses. Much of the work consisted in the mere mechanical use of brute force, and one overseer could direct many hands. In operations dependent on the seasons, the labour must be at hand to utilize opportunities. The choice lay between slaves not working with a will and free wage-earners not likely to be on the spot when wanted. Why were slaves preferred? Because their presence in sufficient number could be relied on in the existing conditions of the world. The history of industrial agriculture was a long tale of effort so to organize slave labour as to get out of it the greatest possible margin of profit. Not that slavery was thought preferable in itself; but a means of wholesale cultivation had to be found, and the then available resources of civilization offered no other. When the supply of slaves began to fail, landlords sought a remedy in letting some or all of their land to tenant farmers (extending an old practice), not in attempting to farm on their own account with hired labour. Hired labour remained as before, an occasional appliance to meet temporary needs. The use of the terms Medieval and Modern as labels[1819] for ancient civilization in two clearly marked stages has, I repeat, just enough truth in it to be dangerous. As a rhetorical flourish it may pass. But it conveys by suggestion much that cannot be accepted. No doubt it is not meant to imply that what we call the Middle Ages is to be ignored. But it inevitably tends to stifle a belief in historical continuity, a faith in which is the soul of historical inquiry as generally understood in the present day. That modern labour-conditions shew a powerful reaction against medieval, is obvious: that medieval conditions have not influenced the modes of this reaction, is to me incredible. I do not believe that the modern free wage-earning system could have grown out of the ancient slave-labour system, had there been no such intervening period as the ‘Middle Ages.’ That the aims of the capitalist ancient and modern are the same, is a mere truism: but is not the same true of the medieval capitalist also? That the wage-earning handworker often finds his freedom of self-disposal limited in practice, though his position is very far removed from slavery, I have pointed out above. Also, that modern facilities for movement have helped materially to assert and enlarge his freedom. From this point of view the discovery of the New World was the turning-point of European history. But in course of time capitalistic phenomena appeared there also, and on a larger scale. And now, almost the whole world over, the handworker is striving, not only for higher wages but for more complete self-disposal. This necessitates some control of the industries in which he works. Individual effort being vain, he forms unions to guard his interests. The unions, acting by strike-pressure, come into conflict with governments representing the state. The next step is to employ political pressure by gaining and using votes under representative systems, so as to remodel legislation and administration in a sense favourable to the handworker. This movement, now well under way in the most civilized countries, is not perhaps socialistic in principle, and we do not yet know how far it is likely to take that turn. In order to fight exploitation, the handworker has to surrender a good deal of his individual freedom: whether he will be content to surrender a good deal more, the coming age will see. This much at least is clear,—the handworking wage-earners are no longer, as in the ancient world, a class of no account. That they have wrung so many great concessions from unwilling capitalists seems to me a proof that their freedom, even under medieval[1820] restrictions, had always in it something real, some quality that sharply distinguished it from ancient slavery. In ancient slavery I can see no germ out of which betterment of labour-conditions could conceivably arise. It simply had to die, and modern attempts to revive it have had to die also. In the foregoing pages I have recognized two lines of distinction. One is that commonly admitted, the line that parts freeman from slave. The other is that between free wage-earner and slave. In looking back from modern circumstances to ancient, the latter is much the more important. For, now that slavery in the proper sense has been abolished by modern civilized peoples, the conditions of wage-earning stand out as presenting the most momentous issues of the present age. To the statesmen the questions raised are full of anxiety as to the probable influence of present policies on future wellbeing. A student of Greco-Roman civilization must ask himself whether modern labour-questions and their attempted solutions may not indirectly furnish help in appraising and judging the conditions of the past. Now it so happens that in the case of agriculture recent events in Russia possess very marked significance, and it is therefore hardly possible to leave them unnoticed here. It seems to be established[1821] beyond reasonable doubt that the genuine and effective doctrine of Leninite Bolshevism, in its definition of the ‘working class,’ excludes the peasantry. They are not ‘proletarian.’ That is, the great majority of peasants have something. This each wants to keep, and if possible to augment. In short, they are Individualists. Now Bolshevism builds on dogmas of Marxian Socialism, however much it may warp their application, however widely it may depart from Marxian theory in its choice of methods. Therefore it sees in the peasants only a class of petty bourgeoisie with the anti-socialistic instincts of that hated class, and will spare no effort to exclude them from political power. It disfranchises employers, even though the work they do is productive and useful to society. We need go no further: these principles of the Bolshevik creed, be it prophetic vision or be it crazy fanaticism blind to the facts of human nature and devoid of all practical sense of proportion, are enough for my present purpose. It results from them that all wage-earning is wrong: no man has the right to employ another man for his own purposes: that the relation benefits both employer and employed, even if true, is a consideration[1822] wholly irrelevant. For it is promised that the new civilization, recast on the Bolshevik model, will leave no room for wage-service of one man to another. I am not to criticize this scheme of social and economic life, but to look at it coolly as an illustrative fact. It is surely a significant thing that, while slavery and serfdom are now reckoned as virtually obsolete phenomena of the past, the old distinction, between the man who works himself for himself and the man who works for another, is still before us as the vital line of division in labour-questions. Bloodshed and torture as means of enforcing the dogma may be confined to Russia, but the distinction is at the bottom of industrial unrest all over the world. Most significant of all is the admission that peasant landholders are not a ‘proletariate.’ Of course they are not. But to philosophers and statesmen of antiquity they appeared as an all-important class, not only as producers of food but as a solid element of population, promoting the stability of state governments. This stability was favourable to continuity of policy and enabled all interests to thrive in peace. Have the development of machinery and transport in recent times so far altered the conditions of agriculture that this is no longer the case? In other words, is the agricultural labourer, the present wage-earner, to supersede the peasant landholder as the dominant figure of rustic life? Is the large-scale farmer to survive only as the impotent figurehead of rural enterprises? Is a political proletariate competent to regulate the conduct of an industry directly dependent on soil climate and seasons? Wherever man is in immediate contact with forces of nature, in farm-life as in seafaring, the bodily energies of many can only be effective through subordination to the mind of one. How far, under the modern factory system, where the mill goes on as usual in all weathers, direction by wage-earners may be a practicable proposition, I cannot tell. That such a plan would be a failure on a farm, I have no doubt whatever. My general conclusion then is that the old distinction observable under Greco-Roman civilization was in itself a sound one. Yet it led to no lasting and satisfactory solution of agricultural labour-problems. Many causes no doubt contributed to this failure; but the lack of a satisfactory labour-system was probably the greatest. Neither slavery nor serfdom was capable of meeting the need, and the wage-earning system never grew so as efficiently to supersede them. Now, after centuries of the wage-system, we are uneasily asking ourselves whether modern civilization is gravely endangered through the failure of this system also. It seems that in agriculture at least there are two possible alternatives, either a final settlement of the wage-question on a footing satisfactory to the labourer, or a return to αὐτουργία. Probably neither of these will be found to exclude the other or to be equally applicable to the circumstances of all countries. That communal ownership and shifting tenure can be revived seems impossible under modern conditions, whatever some Socialists may fancy. On the other hand voluntary cooperation in marketing seems to have a great future before it. Of a movement in that direction I have found no traces among the ancients: but modern developments in the way of transport may remove many difficulties. At any rate it is in such efforts of adaptation and compromise that expert agriculturists seem to be looking for help. As to labour, slavery and serfdom being excluded from modern civilized states, the coming problem is how to secure the performance of agricultural work. The choice lies between attractive wage-conditions, appealing to individual interest, and the Socialist scheme of tasks carried out under official direction, assumed to be in the best interests of a whole community. Both plans offer a substitute for the crude compulsory methods vainly employed in the ancient world. Which plan is the more suited to the demands of human nature, whether self-disposal or communism is to be the dominant aim and note of society, coming generations must decide. APPENDIX. SOME BYZANTINE AUTHORITIES. To follow up the history of agricultural labour under the so-called Byzantine empire, after the Roman empire had fallen in the West, is beyond my scope. Yet there are certain matters on which light is thrown by surviving documents that it is hardly possible wholly to ignore. That the position of the agricultural classes did not follow the same lines of development in East and West, is in itself a fact worth noting, though not surprising. It may be said to run parallel with the general fate of the two sections of the once Roman world. In the West[1823] the growth of what we call Feudalism and the rise of new nation-states are the phenomena that in the course of centuries gradually produced our modern Europe. In the East the Empire long preserved its organization, declining in efficiency and power, but rallying again and again, serving as a bulwark of Christian Europe, and not extinguished finally till 1453. It might perhaps have been guessed that the conditions of rustic life would undergo some change, for the system of the later Roman colonate was already shewing signs of coming failure in the time of Arcadius and Honorius. The need of some system more favourable to individual energy and enterprise, more to be trusted for production of food, was surely not to be ignored. Food must have been a need of extreme urgency, with armies constantly engaged in northern or eastern wars, and the mouths of Constantinople ever hungry at home. After the Saracen conquest of Egypt in the seventh century, the food-resources on which the government could rely must have been seriously reduced, and the need greater than ever. Thus we are not to wonder if we find indications of great interest taken in agriculture, and direct evidence of reversion to a better land-system than that of the later Roman colonate. A. GEOPONICA. The curious collection known as =Geoponica=[1824] comes down to us in a text attributed to the tenth century, which is supposed to be a badly-edited version of an earlier work probably of the sixth or early seventh century. It is in a scrap-book form, consisting of precepts on a vast number of topics, the matter under each heading being professedly drawn from the doctrine of some author or authors whose names are prefixed. Some of these are Byzantine writers, others of much earlier date, including Democritus and Hippocrates, and the Roman Varro. Modern critics consider these citations of names untrustworthy, the collector or editor having dealt very carelessly with the work of his predecessors. I can only say that an examination of the chapters that are of special interest to me fully bears out this censure. I would add that a reference to the index shews that Cato Columella Pliny (elder) and Palladius are never cited, and express my suspicion that the omission of names is not always a proof that those authors were disregarded as sources. The general character of the work is unscientific and feeble, abounding in quackery and superstition. Technical and dogmatic, it has nevertheless an air of unreality, perhaps due in part to the later editor, but probably in part to the original compiler, whose name is given as Cassianus Bassus, a lawyer (σχολαστικός), apparently a Byzantine. It has been remarked that the cultivation of corn fills but a small space in the Geoponica, being evidently quite a subordinate department of farm-life as there contemplated. Is this an indication that Constantinople was still drawing plenty of corn from Egypt, and may we infer that this feature is due to the original compiler, writing before the loss of that granary-province? I do not venture to answer the question. The passages interesting from my point of view occur in the second book, where some reference, scanty and obscure though it be, is made to labour and labourers. A chapter (2) on the classes of labourers suited for various kinds of work is a good specimen of this unsatisfactory treatise. It is labelled Βάρωνος, but we may well hesitate to ascribe the substance to Varro. The rules given are for the most part quite commonplace, and I cannot trace them in Varro’s _res rustica_. On the other hand some of them correspond to precepts of Columella. Whether this is their real source, or whether they are traditional rules handed down carelessly by previous compilers, perhaps on even earlier authority, I see no sure means of determining. The doctrine that boys (παῖδες) should be employed in field-labour (ἐργασία), to watch and learn from their experienced elders, and the remark that their suppleness fits them better for stooping jobs (weeding etc.), is new to me. Varro[1825] at least puts the minimum age for field-hands at 22. Perhaps this doctrine comes from some later authority, of a time when the old supply of adult field-hands was evidently failing. Another chapter, labelled as drawn from Florentinus (? first half of third century), deals with the qualifications and duties of the ἐπίτροπος or οἰκονόμος, the Roman _vilicus_. This chapter (44) is also quite commonplace, and can be copiously illustrated out of many authors, from Xenophon and Cato to Columella and Pliny. The exact meaning of one passage (§ 3) is not clear to me, but its general drift is in agreement with the rest. The notable point about the chapter is that it discusses the steward and his staff as forming the ordinary establishment of a farm. Are we to infer that this system was normal at the time when the compiler put together the precepts under this head? Or is this a case of unintelligent compilation, a mere passing-on of doctrines practically obsolete by a town-bred writer in his study? I cannot tell. The consideration of further details may give some help towards a judgment. The next chapter (45), with the same label, treats of the steward’s diary and the organization of the hands (ἐργάται). The main doctrine is that every day must have its task, and every plan be punctually carried out, since one delay upsets the whole course (τὴν τῆς ἐργασίας τάξιν) and is bad for both crops and land. This again is stale enough, and may be illustrated from Cato and Columella. The rules for organizing the hands in groups of suitable size, so as to get a maximum of efficiency with a minimum of overseers, agree closely with what we find in Columella. Thus there is a strong probability that the labour intended is that of slaves. In chapter 46, with same label, the subject is one of scale (περὶ μέτρου ἐργασίας), the expression of several operations in terms of labour-units (ἐργασίαι, _operae_). This also is an old story, capable of much illustration from earlier writers. The work contemplated is that of a vineyard. The way in which the hands (ἐργάται) are referred to is more suited to a slave-staff than to wage-earners. So too in chapter 47, with same label. It is περὶ τῆς τῶν γεωργῶν ὑγιείας, enjoining general care of the men’s health and prescribing remedies for various ailments. It seems taken for granted that the hands will submit to the treatment imposed. Remembering the traditional interest of the master in his slaves’ health, we can hardly doubt that slaves are meant here. Chapter 48, labelled as drawn from Didymus (? fourth or fifth century), is a warning against ill-considered transplantation from better spots to less wholesome ones. The reverse order is the right one. This rule applies not only to plants (φυτά) but to farm-workers (γεωργόι) also. The principle can be traced back to earlier writers. It seems assumed that the men, like the plants, can be removed at the master’s will. Probably slaves are meant, and we may recall the objections of Varro and Columella to risking slave-property in malarious spots. Chapter 49, labelled Βάρωνος, asserts the necessity of keeping such artisans as smiths carpenters and potters on the farm or near at hand. The tools have to be kept in good order, and visits to the town waste time. That this precept comes from Varro I 16 §§ 3, 4, seems more than doubtful: reference will shew that the passages differ considerably. I would add that the argument prefixed to book III, a farmer’s calendar, at least in Beckh’s text, gives a list of the months from January to December, attaching to each Roman name the corresponding Egyptian one. The editor apparently accepts this double list as genuine. If it be so, has the fact any bearing on the relations between Constantinople and Egypt referred to above? B. THE FARMER’S LAW. The so-called ‘=Farmer’s Law=,’ νόμος γεωργικός, is now assigned by the critics to the time of the Iconoclast emperors, say about 740 AD. It is an official document of limited scope, not a general regulative code governing agricultural conditions in all parts of the eastern empire. Its text origin arrangement and the bearing of its evidence have been much discussed, and it will suffice here to refer to the articles of Mr Ashburner[1826] on the subject. What concerns me is the position of farmers under the Byzantine empire in the eighth century as compared with that of the fourth or fifth century _coloni_, and the different lines of development followed by country life in East and West. Therefore it is only necessary to consider some of the main features of the picture revealed to us by various details of the Farmer’s Law. The first point that strikes a reader is that the serf[1827] _colonus_ has apparently disappeared. Land is held by free owners, who either themselves provide for its cultivation or let it to tenants who take over that duty. The normal organization is in districts (χωρία) each of which contains a number of landowners, who either farm their own land or, if short of means (ἄποροι), let it to other better-equipped farmers of the same district. Thus the transactions are locally limited, and the chief object of the law is to prevent misdeeds that might prejudicially affect the prosperity of the local farmers. These are in a sense partners or commoners (κοινωνοί), the ‘commonalty’ (κοινότης) of the district, which is a taxation-unit with its members jointly liable. The district seems to be regarded as originally common and then divided into members’ lots, with a part reserved perhaps as common pasture. Redivision is contemplated, and the lots seem to belong rather to the family than to the individual. To judge from the tone of the rules, it seems certain that the farmers and their families are a class working with their own hands. But there are also wage-earning labourers, and slaves owned or hired for farm work. Tenancy on shares, like the partiary system in Roman Law, appears as an established practice, and in one passage (clause 16) Mr Ashburner detects a farmer employed at a salary, in short a _mercennarius_. Thus we find existing what are a kind of village communities, the landowning farmers in which are free to let land to each other and also to exchange farms if they see fit to do so. How far they are free to flit from one commune to another remains doubtful. And there is no indication that they are at liberty to dispose of their own land-rights to outsiders. There appears however side by side with these communal units another system of tenancies in which individual farmers hire land from great landlords. Naturally the position of such tenants is different from that of tenants under communal owners: the matter is treated at some length by Mr Ashburner. What proportion the corn crop generally bore to other produce in the agriculture of the Byzantine empire contemplated by these regulations, the document does not enable us to judge. Vineyards and figyards were clearly an important department, and also gardens for vegetables and fruit. Live stock, and damage done to them and by them, are the subject of many clauses, nor is woodland forgotten. But the olive does not appear. So far as one may guess, the farming was probably of a mixed character. The penalties assigned for offences are often barbarous, including not only death by hanging or burning but blinding and other mutilations of oriental use. At the same time the ecclesiastical spirit of the Eastern empire finds expression in the bestowal of a curse on one guilty of cheating, referring I suppose primarily to undiscovered fraud. The state of things inferred from the provisions of the ‘Farmer’s Law’ is so remarkable in itself, and so different from the course of rustic development in the West, that we are driven to seek an explanation of some kind. Many influences may have contributed to produce so striking a differentiation. But one can hardly help suspecting that there was some one great influence at work in the eastern empire, to which the surprising change noted above was mainly due. In his _History of the later Roman Empire_[1828] Professor Bury has offered a conjectural solution of the problem. It is to be sought in the changes brought about in the national character and the external history of the Empire. Since the middle of the sixth century north-west Asia Minor and the Balkan country had been filled with Slavonic settlers, and other parts with other new colonists. Now the new settlers, particularly the Slavs, were not used to the colonate system or the rigid bond of hereditary occupations, and emperors busied in imperial defence on the North and East knew better than to force upon them an unwelcome system. Invasions had reduced the populations of frontier provinces and shattered the old state of serfdom. Resettlement on a large scale had to be carried out within the empire, and under new conditions to suit the changed character of the population. Among the new elements that produced this change the most important was the coming of the Slavs. For the Slavs had themselves no institution corresponding to the German _laeti_. Slaves indeed they had, but not free cultivators attached to the soil. Therefore they could not, like the Germans in the West, adapt themselves to the Roman colonate; accordingly their intrusion led to its abolition. In support of this view the well-known Slavonic peasant communities are cited as evidence. Nor can it be denied that this consideration has some weight. But, while we may provisionally accept the conclusion that Slavonic influences had something, perhaps much, to do with the new turn given to the conditions of rustic life in the East, we must not press it so far as to infer that the colonate-system was extinct there. In no case could the ‘Farmer’s Law’ fairly be used to prove the negative: and moreover it is apparently the case according to Mr Ashburner that the document is not a complete agricultural code for all agricultural classes within the empire. If it is ‘concerned exclusively with a village community, composed of farmers who cultivate their own lands,’ it cannot prove the non-existence of other rustic conditions different in kind. Colonate seems to have disappeared, while slavery has not. But that is the utmost we can say. The slave at least is still there. As to the important question, whether the farmers contemplated in the Law enjoy a real freedom of movement, as has been thought, it is best to refer a reader to the cautious reserve of Mr Ashburner. The one general inference that I venture to draw from these two authorities is that, however much or little the conditions of agriculture may have changed in the surviving Eastern part of the Roman empire, the employment of slave labour still remained. C. EXTRACTS FROM MODERN BOOKS. (1) =Hume=, Essay XI, _Of the populousness of antient nations_. We must now consider what disadvantages the antients lay under with regard to populousness, and what checks they received from their political maxims and institutions. There are commonly compensations in every human condition; and tho’ these compensations be not always perfectly equal, yet they serve, at least, to restrain the prevailing principle. To compare them and estimate their influence, is indeed very difficult, even where they take place in the same age, and in neighbouring countries: But where several ages have intervened, and only scattered lights are afforded us by antient authors; what can we do but amuse ourselves by talking, _pro_ and _con_, on an interesting subject, and thereby correcting all hasty and violent determinations? MODERN ITALIAN CONDITIONS. (2) =Bolton King and Thomas Okey=, _Italy today_. In _Italy today_, Messrs =Bolton King and Thomas Okey= furnish a most interesting collection of facts relative to Italian rural conditions. The extent to which the phenomena of antiquity reappear in the details of this careful treatise is most striking. Italy being the central land of my inquiry, and convinced as I am that the great variety of local conditions is even now not sufficiently recognized in Roman Histories, this excellent book is of peculiar value. In the course of (say) fifteen centuries Italy and her people have passed through strange vicissitudes, not merely political: a great change has taken place in the range of agricultural products: yet old phenomena of rural life meet the inquirer at every turn. Surely this cannot be dismissed lightly as a casual coincidence. I cannot find room to set out the resemblances in detail, so I append a short table of reference to passages in the book that have impressed me most. Supplementary to this, as a vivid illustration of conditions in a mountain district, the first three chapters of _In the Abruzzi_, by =Anne Macdonell=, are decidedly helpful. For instance, it appears that the old migratory pasturage still existed in full force down to quite recent times, but the late conversion of much Apulian lowland from pasture to tillage has seriously affected the position of the highland shepherds by reducing the area available for winter grazing. The chapter on brigandage has also some instructive passages. REFERENCES TO _Italy today_. Peasant contrasted with wage-earner, pp 64-6, 72, 74, 126, 166-8, 171-2, 175-6, 200, 312, and Index under _mezzaiuoli_ and _peasants_. Agricultural classes, pp 164-6. Partiaries, pp 168, 173. Emphyteusis, p 173. Improvements, p 173. Farming through steward, pp 174-5. Tenancies, pp 168-74, and Index under _peasants_. Rents in kind, p 171. Debt of various classes, pp 182-4, 366, 376. Taxes, p 140. Gangs of labourers, pp 166, 376. Wages, pp 126, 128, 168, 174, 366, 369-71. Food in wage, p 370. Emigration, pp 371, 396. Self-help in rural districts, pp 184-6, 376. Charities, pp 220 foll, 379 foll. Socialists and Peasantry, pp 64-6, 170, 172, cf 71-2. (3) =R E Prothero=, _The pleasant land of France_. London 1908. Chapters (essays) II and III, _French farming_ and _Tenant-right and agrarian outrage in France_, contain much of interest. pp 91-2 Social advantages of the system of peasant proprietors. A training[1829] to the rural population. Element of stability. The answer to agitators ‘Cela est bien, mais il faut cultiver notre jardin.’ Difficulties which beset its artificial creation. _Métayage_ (under present conditions) has proved the best shelter for tenant-farmers against the agricultural storm. Need of implicit confidence between landlord and working partner. pp 98-9 Tenant-right in Santerre (Picardy). Tenant considers himself a co-proprietor of the land. Former payment of rent in kind taken to be a sign of joint ownership. Now in money, but calculated upon market price of corn. Landlord’s loss of control. High money value of _droit de marché_. p 104 Traces of Roman occupation. Roman soldier followed by farmer. ‘Under the empire the _colonus_ was not a slave, but the owner of slaves: he held his land in perpetuity; he could not leave it. He paid a fixed rent in kind, which could not be raised. Tenant-right therefore is explained as the recognition by the Frankish conquerors of this hereditary claim to the perpetual occupation of the soil.’ [One of the various explanations offered.] p 119 Severe legislation failed to get rid of tenant-right, but since 1791 it has been recognized, and so its importance decreased. Under the _ancien régime_ leases were short—9 years—and precarious. They were governed by the Roman law maxim _emptori fundi necesse non est stare colonum_. That is, if property changed hands during the continuance of the lease, the new owner might evict the tenant. The _Code Civil_ confirms law of 1791—dispossession only if provision has been made (in lease) for it. In general, land-tenures vary very greatly in the various provinces. (4) =G G Coulton=, _Social life in Britain from the Conquest to the Reformation_. Cambridge 1918. In Section VI _Manor and Cottage_ are a number of extracts throwing light on the rustic conditions of their times. 1. _A model Manor_ pp 301-6, describing the organization of an estate, with the duties of the several officials and departmental servants. Watchful diligence and economy, strict accountability and honesty are insisted on, that the rights of the Lord may not be impaired. 2. _The Manorial court_, pp 306-8. 3. _The peasant’s fare_, p 308. 4. _Incidents of the countryside_, p 309. 7. _Decay of yeomanry_, pp 310-12. (Latimer.) 8. _Decay of husbandry_, pp 312-14. (Sir T More.) All these passages are of great interest as shewing how a number of phenomena observable in the case of ancient estates are repeated under medieval conditions. The typical Manor with its elaborate hierarchy and rules, the struggles of the small yeoman, the encroachments of big landlords, the special difficulties of small-scale tillage caused by growth of large-scale pasturage, the increase of wastrels and sturdy beggars, are all notable points, worthy the attention of a student of ancient farm life and labour. THE BIG MAN AND THE SMALL FARMER. (5) =Clifton Johnson=, _From the St Lawrence to Virginia_. New York 1913, p 21. Chapter on the Adirondack winter. (_Conversation in an up-country store._) ‘I worked for Rockefeller most of that season. You know he has a big estate down below here a ways. There used to be farmhouses—yes and villages on it, but he bought the owners all out, or froze ’em out. One feller was determined not to sell, and as a sample of how things was made uncomfortable for him I heard tell that two men came to his house once and made him a present of some venison. They had hardly gone when the game warden dropped in and arrested him for havin’ venison in his house. All such tricks was worked on him, and he spent every cent he was worth fighting lawsuits. People wa’n’t allowed to fish on the property, and the women wa’n’t allowed to pick berries on it. A good deal of hard feeling was stirred up, and Rockefeller would scoot from the train to his house, and pull the curtains down, ’fraid they’d shoot him. Oh! he was awful scairt.’ EASTERN EUROPE. (6) =Marion L Newbigin DSc=, _Geographical aspects of Balkan problems_. London 1915. _Turks_—‘not all their virtues, not all their military strength, have saved them from the slow sapping of vitality due to their divorce alike from the actual tilling of the land and from trade and commerce.... He has been within the (Balkan) peninsula a parasite, chiefly upon the ploughing peasant, and the effect has been to implant in the mind of that peasant a passion for agriculture, for the undisturbed possession of a patch of freehold, which is probably as strong here as it has ever been in the world.’ p 137. _Thessaly_—‘the landowners are almost always absentees, appearing only at the time of harvest’ (originally Turks, now mostly Greeks) ‘who have taken little personal interest in the land’ (no great improvement in condition of cultivator). (So in Bosnia—better in Serbia and Bulgaria) ‘lands mostly worked by the peasants on the half-shares system.’ p 175. _Albania_—(poverty extreme—temporary emigration of the males, frequent in poor regions) ‘young Albˢ often leave their country during the winter, going to work in Greece or elsewhere as field labourers, and returning to their mountains in the spring.’ pp 183-4. Generally—small holdings mostly in the Balkan states. D. LIST OF SOME BOOKS USED. This list does not pretend to be complete. Many other works are referred to here and there in the notes on the text. But I feel bound to mention the names of some, particularly those dealing with conditions that did or still do exist in the modern world. Miscellaneous reading of this kind has been to me a great help in the endeavour to understand the full bearing of ancient evidence, and (I hope) to judge it fairly. It is on the presentation and criticism of that evidence that I depend: for the great handbooks of Antiquities do not help me much. The practice of making a statement and giving in support of it a reference or references is on the face of it sound. But, when the witnesses cited are authors writing under widely various conditions of time and place and personal circumstances, it is necessary whenever possible to appraise each one separately. And when the aim is, not to write a technical treatise on ‘scientific’ lines, but to describe what is a highly important background of a great civilization, a separate treatment of witnesses needs no apology. I cannot cite in detail the references to conditions in a number of countries, for instance India and China, but I have given them by page or chapter so as to be consulted with ease. (1) AGRICULTURE AND RUSTIC LIFE AND LABOUR. M Weber, _Die Römische Agrargeschichte_, Stuttgart 1891. C Daubeny, _Lectures on Roman husbandry_, Oxford 1857. Ll Storr-Best, _Varro on farming_, translated with Introduction commentary and excursus, London 1912. E de Laveleye, _Primitive Property_, English translation 1878. H Blümner, article ‘Landwirtschaft’ in I Müller’s _Handbuch_ VI ii 2, ed 3 pp 533 foll. A E Zimmern, _The Greek Commonwealth_, Oxford 1911. Büchsenschütz, _Besitz und Erwerb_, Halle 1869. _Columella of Husbandry_, translation (anonymous), London 1745. (2) ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL MATTERS. Adam Smith, _Wealth of Nations_, _passim_. H Nissen, _Italische Landeskunde_, Berlin 1883-1902. K W Nitzsch, _Geschichte der Römischen Republik_, vol II, Leipzig 1885. L Bloch, _Soziale Kämpfe im alten Röm_, ed III Berlin 1913. David Hume, _Essays_, ed 1760 (Essay XI of the populousness of antient nations). J Beloch, _Die Bevölkerung der Griechisch-Römischen Welt_, Leipzig 1886. H Francotte, _L’Industrie dans la Grèce ancienne_, Bruxelles 1900-1. O Seeck, _Geschichte des Untergangs der antiken Welt_, Berlin 1897-1913. O Seeck, ‘Die Schatzungsordnung Diocletians,’ in _Zeitschrift für Social- und Wirthschaftsgeschichte_, Weimar 1896. H Schiller, _Geschichte der Römischen Kaiserzeit_, Gotha 1883-7. S Dill, _Roman society in the last century of the Western Empire_, London 1898. G Gilbert, _Handbuch der Griechischen Staatsalterthümer_, vol II, Leipzig 1885. (3) LAW AND THE LATER COLONATE. Several of the books named under other heads deal with legal points, for instance Beauchet, Lipsius, Meier and Schömann, Calderini, M Clerc. The Digest and Codex Justinianus have been used in the text of Mommsen and P Krüger. _The Codex Theodosianus_ in text of Mommsen and P M Meyer, Berlin 1905 and in Ritter’s edition of Godefroi, Leipzig 1736-45. P Girard, _Textes de droit Romain_, ed 4 Paris 1913. F Zulueta, ‘De Patrociniis vicorum,’ in Vinogradoff’s _Oxford Studies_, Oxford 1909. M Rostowzew, _Studien zur Geschichte des Römischen Colonates_, Leipzig and Berlin 1910. B Heisterbergk, _Die Entstehung des Colonats_, Leipzig 1876. A Esmein, _Mélanges d’histoire du Droit_, Paris 1886. Fustel de Coulanges, ‘Le Colonat Romain,’ in his _Recherches sur quelques problèmes d’histoire_, Paris 1885. H F Pelham, _Essays_ (No XIII), Oxford 1911. I am sorry that inability to procure copies has prevented me from consulting the following works: Beaudouin, _Les grands domaines dans l’empire Romain_, Paris 1899. Bolkestein, _de colonatu Romano eiusque origine_, Amsterdam 1906. (4) MANUMISSION AND KINDRED TOPICS. A Calderini, _La manomissione e la condizione dei liberti in Grecia_, Milan 1908. M Clerc, _Les métèques Athéniens_, Paris 1893. L Beauchet, _Droit privé de la République Athénienne_, Paris 1897. J H Lipsius, _Das Attische Recht etc._, Leipzig 1905. Meier und Schömann, _Der Attische Process_, Berlin 1883-7. Mommsen, _Römisches Staatsrecht_. G Haenel, _Corpus legum_, Leipzig 1857. C G Bruns, _Fontes Iuris Romani antiqui_. Dareste, Haussoullier, Th Reinach, _Recueil des inscriptions juridiques Grecques_, Paris 1904. (Laws of Gortyn.) Wescher et Foucart, _Inscriptions de Delphes_, Paris 1863. Wilamowitz-Möllendorf, ‘Demotika der Metöken,’ in _Hermes_ 1887. (5) SLAVERY AND SLAVE TRADE. H Wallon, _Histoire de l’esclavage dans l’antiquité_, ed 2 Paris 1879. J K Ingram, _A history of slavery and serfdom_, London 1895. E H Minns, _Scythians and Greeks_, Cambridge 1913 (pages 438, 440, 461, 465, 471, 567). V A Smith, _The early history of India_, Oxford 1914 (pages 100-1, 177-8, 441). M S Evans, _Black and White in the Southern States_, London 1915. ” _Black and White in South-east Africa_, ed 2 London 1916. J E Cairnes, _The Slave Power_, ed 2 London and Cambridge 1863. W W Buckland, _The Roman Law of Slavery_, Cambridge 1908. W E Hardenburg, _The Putumayo, the Devil’s Paradise_, with extracts from Sir R Casement’s report, London and Leipzig 1912. H W Nevinson, _A modern Slavery_, London and New York 1906. Sidney Low, _Egypt in transition_ (see under _Medieval and Modern conditions_). Mrs M A Handley, _Roughing it in Southern India_, London 1911 (pages 193-4). (6) MEDIEVAL AND MODERN CONDITIONS. _Books illustrating matters of rustic life, peasant proprietorship, agricultural wage-labour, etc._ Bolton King and Thomas Okey, _Italy today_, new ed London 1909. R E Prothero, _The pleasant land of France_, London 1908 (Essays II and III). Anne Macdonell, _In the Abruzzi_, London 1908 (chapters 1-3). G Renwick, _Finland today_, London 1911 (pages 59, 60). Sir J D Rees, _The real India_, London 1908. Marion L Newbigin, _Geographical aspects of Balkan problems_, London 1915. Ralph Butler, _The new eastern Europe_, London 1919 (chapter VII). John Spargo, _Bolshevism, the enemy of political and industrial democracy_, London 1919 (pages 69, 156, 275, 278). W H Dawson, _The evolution of modern Germany_, London 1908 (chapters XIII, XIV). P Vinogradoff, _The growth of the Manor_, ed 2 London 1911. G G Coulton, _Social life in Britain from the Conquest to the Reformation_, Cambridge 1918 (Section VI). Mary Bateson, _Medieval England_ 1066-1350, London 1903. Sidney Low, _Egypt in transition_, London 1914 (pages 60-2, 240-1). Sidney Low, _A vision of India_, ed 2 London 1907 (chapter XXIII). Sir A Fraser, _Among Indian Rajahs and Ryots_, ed 3 London 1912 (pages 185, 191-210). J Macgowan, _Men and Manners in modern China_, London 1912 (pages 17 foll, 189-96, 275-7). M Augé-Laribé, _L’évolution de la France agricole_, Paris 1912. (7) SPECIAL AMERICAN SECTION. H Baerlein, _Mexico, the land of unrest_, London 1914 (chapters VIII, XI). F L Olmsted, _A journey in the seaboard slave States_ (1853-4), ed 2 New York 1904 (pages 240, 282, vol II pages 155, 198, 237). H R Helper, _The impending crisis of the South (economic)_, New York 1857. B B Munford, _Virginia’s attitude towards Slavery and Secession_, ed 2 London 1910 (pages 133-4 etc). W Archer, _Through Afro-America, an English reading of the Race-problem_, London 1910. A H Stone, _Studies in the American Race-problem_, London 1908 printed in New York. F F Browne, _The everyday life of Abraham Lincoln_, London 1914 (pages 348-9). G P Fisher, _The colonial era in America_, London 1892 (pages 254, 259). J Rodway, _Guiana_, London 1912 (of Indians, pages 224-5). J Creelman, _Diaz, Master of Mexico_, New York 1911 (pages 401-5). E R Turner, _The Negro in Pennsylvania 1639-1861_, Washington 1911. _Social and economic forces in American history_, New York and London 1913 (by several authors). J F Rhodes, _History of the United States from 1850_, London 1893-1906. C R Enock, _The Republics of Central and South America_, London and New York 1913. FOOTNOTES [1] A good specimen of such work at a late date may be found in Statius _Silvae_ IV 3 on the _via Domitiana_ lines 40-66. [2] For instance Diodorus V 38 § 1, Strabo XII 3 § 40 (p 562), Apuleius _met_ IX 12. [3] Not artistic, of course. [4] See especially Ed Meyer _Kleine Schriften_ pp 80-212. [5] To this question I return in the concluding chapter. [6] A good instance is Xen _anab_ IV 1 §§ 12-14. [7] Veget I 3. [8] Ἀθηναίων πολιτεία cap 16, with Sandys’ notes. [9] _Catil 4 § 1 non fuit consilium ... neque vero agrum colundo aut venando servilibus officiis intentum aetatem agere._ [10] To this topic I return in the concluding chapter. See chapter on Aristotle. [11] See chapter on Cato. [12] For the existence of this system in Modern Italy see Bolton King and Okey _Italy today_ pp 174-5. [13] Cic _in Catil_ II § 18. See the chapter on Cicero. [14] Cf Valerius Maximus VII 5 § 2. [15] For modern Italy see Appendix. [16] Cf Caesar _B C_ I 34, 56, discussed in the chapter on Varro. [17] _Oratio_ XV (1 pp 266-7 Dind). [18] VI 315, XXIII 712, VII 221. [19] XII 433-5, XXI 445, 451, X 304. [20] XXI 444. [21] XVIII 550. [22] II 751. [23] XVIII 542, 554, XI 67, XX 495-7, V 500, XIII 590. [24] XXI 257-9. [25] XI 68. [26] XVIII 550-60. [27] XXI 281-3. [28] XXI 40-2, 78-80, 101-3, 453-4, XXII 45, XXIV 751-2. [29] XVI 835-6, VI 463. [30] VI 455, XVI 831, XX 193. [31] XII 421-4. [32] IV 245, XIV 3-4, 62-5, XVI 302-3, XVII 533. (_Iliad_ V 413, VI 366.) [33] Selling XIV 297, XV 387, 428, 452-3, XX 382-3. Buying I 430, XIV 115, etc. [34] XIX 488-90, XXII 173-7, 189-93, 440-5, 462-4, 465-77. (Cf XVIII 82-7.) [35] IV 245 foll. [36] IX 205-7, XI 430-2, XVI 14 foll, XIX 489, XXIII 227-8, etc. [37] XIV 449-52. [38] VII 224-5, XIX 526. [39] IV 643-4, 652. [40] In XIX 56-7 a τέκτων, Icmalius, is even mentioned by name. [41] XVII 382-7, XIX 134-5. [42] XIV 56-8. [43] XVII 578. [44] XVII 18-9, 226-8. [45] XVIII 403. [46] VII 112 foll, VIII 557-63. [47] IX 109-11, 125 foll. [48] XV 319 foll. [49] XVIII 1-116. [50] IX 191. [51] II 22, IV 318, XIV 344, XVI 139-45. [52] XIV 222-3. [53] XIII 31-4. [54] XVIII 357-64. [55] XI 489-91. [56] IV 644. [57] IV 735-7. [58] XXIV 208-10. [59] XXIV 222-55. [60] XXIV 257. [61] XV 412-92. [62] XIV 271-2. [63] XXI 213-6. [64] XV 363-5. [65] XIV 62-5. [66] XVIII 366-75. [67] 299-302, 394-5, 399-400, 403-4, 646-7. [68] 289-90, 303-5, 308-13, 381-2, 410-3 (cf 498). [69] 20-4. [70] 37-41. [71] 298-9, 397-8. [72] 289-90. [73] 303-5. [74] 308-13. [75] 410-3, 500-1, 554 foll, 576 foll. [76] 391. [77] 25-6. [78] 493, 538, 544, 809. [79] 686. [80] 717-8. [81] 394-400. [82] 327-34. [83] 341. [84] 605. [85] 602-3. [86] 370. [87] 459, 469-71, 502-3, 559-60, 573, 597-8, 607-8, 765-7. [88] 406 is reasonably suspected. [89] 405, 779, 800. [90] 695-705. [91] 32, 597, 606-7. [92] _Solon the Athenian_, by Ivan M. Linforth of the University of California (1919) discusses in full the conditions of Solon’s time and his actual policy, with an edition of his poetic remains. [93] The view of M Clerc _Les métèques Athéniens_ pp 340-5. [94] ἄλλος γῆν τέμνων πολυδένδρεον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν λατρεύει τοῖσιν καμπύλ’ ἄροτρα μέλει. Mr Linforth takes the last four words as defining ἄλλος, the plowman. I think they refer to the employers, spoken of as a class. [95] Aristotle Ἀθ πολ 11, 12, 16. [96] See the remarks of Dareste Haussoullier and Th Reinach in the _Recueil des inscriptions juridiques Grecques_ (Paris 1904) on the Gortyn Laws. [97] See Livy X 4 § 9. [98] See his references to the Spartan use of ξείνοι = βάρβαροι IX 11, 53, 55. [99] VIII 68 γ. [100] VIII 26, 105-6. [101] II 164-7. [102] Isocrates _Busiris_ §§ 15-20 pp 224-5 also allows for no special class of γεωργοὶ in Egypt. [103] Plato _Timaeus_ p 24. Diodorus I 28, 73-4 (? from Hecataeus of Abdera, latter half of 3rd cent BC). [104] II 141, 168. See Index under _Egypt_. [105] The passage of Isocrates just cited seems to favour this view. [106] VIII 137. [107] VIII 26. [108] VIII 51. [109] VII 102. [110] VI 137. [111] IV 72. [112] VIII 142. [113] οἰκετέων here = members of the family, as often. Stein refers to VIII 4, 41, 44, 106. Compare the use of οἰκεὺς in the Iliad, and see Aesch _Agam_ 733, Eur _Suppl_ 870. [114] _Pers_ 186-7, 255, 337, 391, 423, 434, 475, 798, 844. [115] _Eum_ 186-90. [116] _Prom_ 454-8, 708. [117] Fragm 194, 198, Dind. [118] _Suppl_ 612-4, _Eum_ 890-1. [119] _Trach_ 52-3, 61-3, _O T_ 763-4, Fragm 518, 677, Dind. [120] _Antig_ 338-40. The use of horses for ploughing is strange. Jebb thinks that mules are meant. [121] _O T_ 1029. [122] _Trach_ 31-3. [123] _Electra_ 37-8, 375-6, _Phoenissae_ 405, fragm 143 and many more. [124] The loyalty of slaves to kind masters is referred to very often. [125] References in Euripides are too many to cite here. [126] Cf the oft-quoted line from Eur Auge ἡ φύσις ἐβούλεθ’, ᾗ νόμων oὐδὲν μέλει. [127] Cf Eur fragm 515, 828, Dind, etc. [128] Cf Eur fragm 263, 1035, Dind, and the use of τὸ δοῦλον ‘the slave-quality’ in _Hecuba_ 332-3, _Ion_ 983, etc. [129] See Cope’s note on Aristotle _rhet_ 1 13 § 2. [130] _Herc Fur_ 1341-6. [131] _Alcestis_ 2, 6. _Electra_ 203-4. _Cyclops_ 76 foll, cf 23-4. [132] _Electra_ 252. [133] _Electra_ 35-9. [134] _ibid_ 73-4. [135] _ibid_ 75-6. [136] _ibid_ 78-81. [137] The slaves in 360 and 394 are attendants of Orestes. [138] _Suppl_ 420-2. [139] _Orest_ 918-20. Cf fragm 188 Dind where the virtue of rustic life is sketched καὶ δόξεις φρονεῖν σκάπτων ἀρῶν γῆν ποιμνίοις ἐπιστατῶν. [140] _Rhesus_ 74-5. [141] _Rhesus_ 176. [142] _Heracl_ 639, 788-9, 890, cf fragm 827 Dind. [143] _Die pseudoxenophontische Ἀθηναίων πολιτεία ... von Ernst Kalinka_ (Teubner 1913). A great work. [144] 1 § 3. [145] 1 § 5 etc. [146] This view reappears later in Isocrates. [147] In his book _The Greek Commonwealth_. [148] 1 §§ 10-12. [149] Kalinka well points out that in 1 § 11 ἐλευθέρους ἀφιέναι is not technical = manumit. [150] In 1 § 17 it is notable that among those who gain by concentration of business at Athens is εἴ τῳ ζεῦγός ἐστιν ἢ ἀνδράποδον μισθοφοροῦν. Country carts would now be plentiful in Athens. [151] 1 § 19. [152] 2 § 14. [153] _Equites_ 792-4, _Pax_ 632-6, _Eccl_ 243. [154] _Eccl_ 197-8. [155] _Eccl_ 591-2. [156] _Plut_ 510-626. [157] Old Strepsiades still has his thoughts fixed on these, _Nubes_ 202-3. [158] _Plut_ 903. [159] _Plut_ 223-4. [160] _Ach_ 180, 211, _Pax_ 570, 1185-6, _Eq_ 316-7, _Nub_ 43 foll. [161] The gradual conversion is seen in _Ach_ 557 foll, 626 foll. [162] _Ach_ 32-4. [163] _Pax_ 551-70, 1127 foll; cf fragm 100, 107, 109, 294, 387, Kock. [164] _Pax_ 509-11. [165] _Pax_ 190. [166] _Pax_ 551-70, 1318-24. [167] _Lysistr_ 1173-4. [168] _Ach_ 248-50, 259. [169] _Ach_ 266. [170] _Nub_ 43 foll, 138. [171] _Vesp_ 442-52. [172] _Pax_ 1140 foll. [173] _Pax_ 1248-9. [174] _Lys_ 1203-14. [175] _Eccl_ 651. [176] _Plut_ 26-7, 253. [177] _Plut_ 517-20, 525-6. [178] _Plut_ 510-626. [179] _Aves_ 1152. [180] _Aves_ 1431-2 (cf Vesp 959), fragm of Δαιταλεῖς 4 Dind, 221 Kock. [181] _Vesp_ 712. [182] _Ran_ 164-77. [183] _Eccl_ 197-8, 591-2. [184] _Nub_ 71-2. Cf φελλέα in Isaeus VIII § 42 p 73. [185] _Pax_ 552, 1318. [186] _Ach_ 1018-36. [187] _Eccl_ 605, _Av_ 712. [188] _Thucydides and the history of his age_ chapters III-VII. [189] See Francotte _L’industrie dans la Grèce ancienne_ livre II cc 5-7. [190] _Thucydides mythistoricus_ chapter II. [191] II 14, 16. An earlier period is referred to in I 126 §§ 7, 8. [192] II 65 § 2. [193] I 141. [194] _Die Bevölkerung der Griechisch-Röm. Welt_ p 150. [195] I 143. [196] Theopompus in Athenaeus 149 d. [197] I 139 § 2. [198] VI 91 § 7. [199] VII 27 § 5. [200] Trygaeus in Aristoph _Pax_ is a farmer from this district. [201] III 73, VIII 40 § 2. [202] III 88 § 3. [203] II 62 § 3. [204] _opus cit_ chapters IV, VII. [205] For instance, in Euboea and Aegina. [206] III 50. Herodes, whose murder was later the occasion of a speech of Antiphon, is thought to have been one of the cleruchs. [207] Arnold’s note explains the situation well, and Beloch p 83 agrees. [208] See the inscription relative to Brea, G F Hill _Sources_ III 317. [209] See the hint in the speech of Pericles I 143 § 4. [210] That there was normally much insecurity in rustic life in some parts of Greece, may be inferred from the dance-scene of the farmer and the robber, acted by men from north central Greece in _Anabasis_ VI 1 §§ 7, 8. Daubeny’s Lectures pp 17, 18. [211] _Hellenica_ II 1 § 1. [212] _Hellenica_ VI 2 § 37. [213] Ar _Pol_ VII 6 § 8. [214] _Anab_ III 2 § 26. [215] _Anab_ VI 4 § 8. [216] _Anab_ I 2 § 27, V 6 § 13, VII 3 § 48, 8 §§ 12-19. [217] _Anab_ IV 1 §§ 12, 13. [218] _Anab_ V 3 § 4. [219] _Anab_ IV 8 § 4. It does not appear that the man rejoined his native tribe. [220] _Anab_ VII 7 § 53. [221] See the protest of Callicratidas, _Hellen_ I 6 § 14, with Breitenbach’s note. [222] _Anab_ VII 1 § 36, 2 § 6, 3 § 3. [223] _Memorab_ II 7. [224] _Memor_ I 2 § 57, II 7 §§ 4-11, 8. [225] _Memor_ III 13 § 4. [226] _Memor_ I 1 § 16, IV 2 §§ 22-31. [227] _Memor_ I 5 § 2. [228] _Memor_ III 7 § 6, 9 §§ 11, 15. [229] _Econ_ 20 §§ 22 foll. [230] _Econ_ 12 § 3. [231] _Econ_ 3 §§ 1-5, 5 §§ 15, 16, 12 § 19. [232] _Econ_ 7-9, 12-14, 21. [233] _Econ_ 13 § 9, cf 9 § 5. [234] _Econ_ 12-15. [235] _Econ_ 14 § 8. [236] _Econ_ 14 § 9. [237] _Econ_ 5 § 4, 14 § 2, 20 _passim_. [238] _Econ_ 5 § 6. [239] _Econ_ 1 § 4, 4 § 6. [240] cf _Memor_ II 7 §§ 7-10. [241] _Econ_ 11 §§ 9, 10. [242] _Econ_ 20 _passim_. [243] _Econ_ 21 § 10. [244] _Econ_ 21 § 12. [245] _Econ_ 21 § 9. [246] _Memor_ II 8 especially § 3. For this suggestion that a free man should be steward of a rich man’s estate I can find no parallel. See the chapters on the Roman agricultural writers. The case of the shepherd in Juvenal I 107-8 is not parallel. [247] _Memor_ II 5 § 2. See _Vect_ 4 § 22 for suggested employment of free citizens or aliens. [248] _Vectigalia_ ch 4 _passim_. [249] _Cyrop_ VII 5 § 67, VIII 3 §§ 36-41. [250] _Cyrop_ IV 4 §§ 5-12, VII 5 §§ 36, 73. [251] _Cyrop_ VIII 1 §§ 43-4. [252] Cited from Kock’s edition 1880-8. [253] _Menandrea_, ed Körte 1910, Teubner. [254] Fragments 100-24. From other plays, 294, 387. [255] Cratinus 81, Pherecrates 212. [256] e.g. Antiphanes 265, Philemon 227, Menander 581, etc. [257] Philemon 95. [258] Philemon 213, Menander 68, 716, Hipparchus 2. [259] Menander 14, Posidippus 23 with Kock’s note. [260] Pherecrates 10, Crates 14. [261] Nicophon 13, 14. [262] Athenaeus VI pp 263, 267 _e_-270 _a_. [263] Menandrea pp 159-61 (fragments of Γεωργός). [264] Menandrea pp 157, 159. [265] _opus cit_ and Menander 97 Kock. For ἄγροικος connoting simplicity cf 794 ἄγροικος εἶναι προσποιεῖ πονηρὸς ὤν. [266] Menandrea p 155, 96 Kock. [267] Menandrea p 15 (lines 26, 40). [268] Menandrea p 13 (line 12, cf 111). [269] Menandrea p 5. [270] Menandrea p 25. [271] Kock III p 473 (adespota 347). [272] Lucian, Timon 7, 8. Kock adesp 1434, note. [273] Menander 795. [274] Menander 642. [275] Menander 408. [276] Menander 63, τὰ κακῶς τρέφοντα χωρί’ ἀνδρείους ποιεῖ. [277] Stobaeus _flor_ LVI 16 preserves an utterance of Socrates on labour, especially agricultural labour, as the basis of wellbeing, in which he remarks that ἐν τῇ γεωργίᾳ πάντα ἔνεστιν ὦν χρείαν ἔχομεν. [278] ἰδιωτῶν Aristotle _Pol_ II 7 § 1. [279] Arist _Pol_ II 6 § 13, 12 § 10. [280] Arist _Pol_ II 7 § 6 and Newman’s note. [281] Arist _Pol_ II 7, 8. [282] In _Thucydides and the history of his age_ chapters III-VII. [283] _Politics_ III 13 § 2. [284] See Newman on Ar _Pol_ II 7 § 7. [285] Ar _Pol_ II 6 § 13. [286] Ar _Pol_ II 12 § 10. [287] Ar _Pol_ II 7 §§ 3-7. [288] _Pol_ II 7 _passim_. [289] _Pol_ II 7 §§ 14, 15. [290] μυρίανδρον _Pol_ II 8 §§ 2, 3, with notes in Newman. [291] ‘Artisan’ is not quite = τεχνίτης. All professional work is included. [292] _Pol_ II 7 §§ 8, 9. The probable influence of Spartan precedents is pointed out in Mr Newman’s note. [293] See the valuable discussion in Grundy _op cit_ chapter VIII. [294] Cf Isocr _de pace_ § 69 p 173, §§ 129-131 p 185. [295] Plato was evidently uneasy at the growing influence of metics, to judge from the jealous rule of _Laws_ p 850. This is in striking contrast with the view of Xenophon. [296] _Laws_ 630 _b_, cf 697 _e_. [297] See _Republic_ 565 _a_ on the indifference of the handworking δῆμος. Cf Isocr _de pace_ § 52 p 170. [298] Cf Xenophon _hell_ VII 5 § 27 on the ἀκρισία καὶ ταραχὴ intensified after Mantinea, 362 BC. [299] Even Isocrates, who hated Sparta, says of it τὴν μάλιστα τὰ παλαιὰ διασώζουσαν, _Helen_ § 63 ρ 218, and attributes the merits of the Spartan government to imitation of Egypt, _Busiris_ § 17 p 225. He notes the moral change in Sparta, _de pace_ §§ 95 foll pp 178-180. [300] _Republic_ p 421 _e_, _Laws_ 936 _c_, 744 _e_. [301] _Laws_ 736 _c_, cf _Rep_ 565 _a_, _b_. [302] _Republic_ 421 _d_. [303] _Republ_ 416 _d_, _e_, 417, 464 _c_, 543 _b_. [304] _Republ_ 540 _e_-541 _a_. [305] _Republ_ 469-471. [306] _Republ_ 495 _d_, 590 _c_, 522 _b_. _Laws_ 741. [307] _Republ_ 374 _c_, _d_. [308] _Republ_ 433-4. [309] _Republ_ 468 _a_. [310] That the speculations of Greek political writers were influenced by the traditions of a primitive communism is the view of Emil de Laveleye _Primitive property_ ch 10. [311] _Republ_ 463 _b_. [312] _Republ_ 369 _b_-373 _c_. [313] Cf Isocrates _Panath_ § 180 p 271. [314] _Republ_ 547 _b_ foll. [315] _Republ_ 550-2. [316] _Laws_ 756. See _Rep_ 565 _a_ with Adam’s note. [317] _Laws_ 754. [318] See _Politicus_ 293-7, Grote’s _Plato_ III pp 309-10. [319] _Laws_ 737 foll, 922 _a_-924 _a_, called γεωμόροι 919 _d_. [320] _Laws_ 744 _d_, _e_. [321] _Laws_ 745 _c_-_e_. [322] _Laws_ 842 _c_-_e_. [323] _Laws_ 742. [324] _Laws_ 705. [325] Rustic slaves, _Laws_ 760 _e_, 763 _a_. [326] _Laws_ 832 _d_. The artisans are not citizens, 846 _d_-847 _b_. [327] _Laws_ 806 _d_. [328] _Laws_ 777 _c_. [329] _Laws_ 777 _d_-778 _a_, cf 793 _e_. [330] _Laws_ 838 _d_. [331] _Laws_ 865 _c_, _d_, cf 936 _c_-_e_. [332] _Laws_ 720. See _Rep_ 406 on medical treatment of δημιουργοί. [333] Case of domestics, _Republ_ 578-9. [334] _Laws_ 776-7. [335] _Laws_ 690 _b_. [336] _Politicus_ 262 _d_. [337] _Politicus_ 289-90, _Republ_ 371, _Laws_ 742 _a_. [338] _Republ_ 467 _a_, _Laws_ 720 _a_, _b_. [339] _Laws_ 762 _e_. [340] _Laws_ 823. [341] _Republ_ 344 _b_. [342] _Republ_ 435 _e_-436 _a_, _Laws_ 747 _c_. [343] _Rep_ 423 _b_, 452 _c_, 544 _d_, _Laws_ 840 _e_. [344] _Laws_ 886 _a_, 887 _e_. [345] It is not easy to reach a firm opinion on this matter. The inscribed records are nearly all of a much later age. But even a more informal method of manumission would surely, if common, have left more clearly marked traces in literature. See Index, _Manumission_. [346] The problem of the worn-out plantation slave was much discussed in the United States in slavery days. An interesting account of the difficulties arising from emancipation in British Guiana is given in J Rodway’s _Guiana_ (1912) pp 114 foll. [347] _Laws_ 914-5, and an allusion in _Republ_ 495 _e_. [348] _Laws_ 914 _a_, 932 _d_. [349] See Lysias XXII, speech against the corn-dealers. [350] See for instance Andocides _de reditu_ §§ 20-1 p 22 (Cyprus), Isocrates _Trapeziticus_ § 57 p 370 (Bosporus). [351] Isocr _de bigis_ § 13 p 349. [352] Isocr _Panegyricus_ § 28 p 46, cf Plato _Menex_ 237 _e_. [353] Andoc _de myster_ §§ 92-3 p 12, Böckh-Fränkel _Staatsh_ I 372-7. For private letting of farm-lands see Lysias VII § 4-10 pp 108-9 (one tenant was a freedman), Isaeus XI § 42. [354] Isaeus VI §§ 19-22, VIII § 35, XI §§ 41-4. [355] Isocr _Areopagiticus_ § 52 p 150. [356] Lysias I §§ 11, 13, p 92. [357] Antiphon fragm 50 Blass. [358] Isocr _Panath_ § 179 p 270. [359] Isocr _Philippus_ §§ 48-9 pp 91-2. [360] Isocr _de pace_ §§ 117-8 p 183. [361] Isocr _Paneg_ §§ 34-7 pp 47-8, _de pace_ § 24 p 164, _Panathen_ §§ 13, 14, p 235, §§ 43-4 p 241, etc. [362] Isocr _Paneg_ § 132 pp 67-8. [363] Isocr _Areopag_ § 44 p 148. [364] Isocr _de pace_ § 90 p 177, _Areopag_ §§ 54-5 pp 150-1, § 83 p 156. [365] Isaeus VIII § 42 p 73, cf Aristophanes _Nub_ 71-2. [366] Andocides _de pace_ § 15 p 25, § 36 p 28. [367] Isocr _de pace_ § 92 p 177. [368] Lysias VII especially §§ 4-11 pp 108-9. [369] Lysias VII § 16 p 109. [370] See especially the _Archidamus_ §§ 8, 28, 87, 88, 96, 97. [371] Isaeus fragm 3 Scheibe. [372] Isaeus VI § 33 σὺν τῷ αἰπόλῳ. [373] See Isocrates _Plataicus_ § 48 p 306 (of Plataeans), and Isaeus V § 39 with Wyse’s note. [374] I should mention that for simplicity sake I refer to the _Politics_ by the books in the old order. Also that I do not raise the question of the authorship of the first book of the so-called _Economics_, as the point does not affect the argument. In common with all students of the _Politics_ I am greatly indebted to the edition of Mr W L Newman. [375] This χορηγία includes a population limited in number and of appropriate qualities. _Politics_ VII 4, and 8 §§ 7-9. [376] _Pol_ VII 4 § 6. [377] See the story of Peisistratus and the peasant in Ἀθην πολ c 16. [378] _Economics_ I 5 § 1, 6 § 5, _Pol_ I 7 § 5, and see the chapter on Xenophon. [379] _Pol_ VI 4 §§ 8-10. [380] We have a modern analogue in the recent legislative measures in New Zealand and Australia, not to speak of movements nearer home. [381] See note on Plato, p 75. [382] Ἀθην πολ cc 11, 12. [383] A most interesting treatment of this topic is to be found in Bryce’s _South America_ (1912) pp 330-1, 533, where we get it from the modern point of view, under representative systems. [384] See the general remarks _Pol_ IV 6 § 2, VI 4 §§ 1, 2, 13, 14. For historical points Ἀθην πολ cc 16, 24. [385] _Pol_ III 15 § 13. [386] _Pol_ IV 4 §§ 15, 18, cf VII 9. [387] _Pol_ VI 4 §§ 1, 2, 13. [388] _Pol_ VI 4 § 11. [389] Whether the πεπονημένη ἕξις (favourable to eugenic paternity) of _Pol_ VII 16 §§ 12, 13, may include this class, is not clear. In Roman opinion it certainly would. [390] _Pol_ VII 6 § 8. Xenophon (see p 53) records cases of seamen ashore and in straits working for hire on farms. [391] See Sandys on Ἀθην πολ c 4. [392] _Pol_ II 7 § 12. [393] _Pol_ II 7 § 7. [394] Severely criticized in _Pol_ II 6 § 15, though adopted by himself. See below. [395] See _Pol_ VI 5 §§ 8-10, on the measures that may be taken to secure lasting εὐπορία. [396] Cf IV 15 § 6, etc. [397] E Barker _The political thought of Plato and Aristotle_. [398] _Ethics_ II 1 § 4. [399] _Pol_ VII 16. [400] _Pol_ VII 8, 9, etc. [401] _Pol_ VII 10. [402] This adoption of the split land-lots (see above p 91) is perhaps explained by the fact that the landowners are not αὐτουργοί, so the difficulty of dual residence does not arise. [403] _Pol_ IV 8 § 5, 9 § 4, etc. [404] _Pol_ II 6 § 17, 9 §§ 21-2, IV 9 §§ 7-9. The same view is found in Isocrates. [405] _Pol_ VII 9 § 5. [406] _Pol_ V 6 §§ 12, 13. [407] _Pol_ VII 14, 15, VIII 4, cf II 9 § 34. [408] _Economics_ I 5 § 3 δούλῳ δὲ μισθὸς τροφή. Cf the saying about the ass, _Ethics_ X 5 § 8. [409] Deinarchus refers (_in Dem_ § 69 p 99) to Demosthenes’ ownership of a house in Peiraeus, and goes on to denounce him as heaping up money and not holding real property, thus escaping taxation. Yet the laws enjoin that a man who is a political leader ought γῆν ἐντὸς ορων κεκτῆσθαι. This wild abuse at least is a sign of existent feelings. [410] We may at least add slaves. [411] _Pol_ VII 4 § 6. [412] Aristotle, like most of the philosophers at Athens, was a metic. See Bernays’ _Phokion_ note 8, in which the notable passage _Pol_ VII 2 §§ 3-7 is discussed. [413] The author of _Revenues_ (πόροι). [414] _Pol_ II 3 § 4, 5 § 8. [415] _Pol_ I 7. [416] Pol VII 10 § 14, _Econ_ I 5 § 5. [417] But perhaps to some extent by the author of _Econ_ I 6 § 9. [418] See _Econ_ I 5 §§ 1, 2, 6 § 5. [419] _Pol_ II 3 § 4, 5 § 4. [420] He only once (III 5 § 2) in the _Politics_ mentions ἀπελεύθεροι and once in the _Rhetoric_ (III 8 § 1). [421] Too often asserted to need references. But _Pol_ III 5 §§ 4-6 is notable as pointing out that τεχνῖται were generally well-to-do, but θῆτες poor. [422] _Pol_ VII 6 §§ 3-8. [423] _Pol_ I 8 §§ 3 foll. [424] _Pol_ I 9. [425] _Pol_ I 10, 11. [426] _Pol_ I 11 § 1, and Mr Newman’s note. [427] _Pol_ I 11 §§ 3-5. [428] _Rhetoric_ I 9 § 27 πρὸς ἄλλον ζῆν, and Cope’s note. [429] _Pol_ VI 8 § 3, VII 6 §§ 1-5. [430] _Pol_ I 2 § 5, 5 §§ 8, 9, cf _Ethics_ VIII 11 § 6. [431] _Pol_ I 13 § 13, cf II 5 § 28. [432] _Pol_ I 5, 6. [433] _Pol_ VII 6 §§ 7, 8. [434] _Pol_ VII 15 §§ 1-6, VIII 4 §§ 1-5, and a number of passages in the _Ethics_. [435] Indeed in _Pol_ VII 15 §§ 2-3 he practically says so. [436] _Pol_ VIII 3 § 7. [437] _Pol_ VIII 4. [438] _Pol_ II 5 § 19. [439] _Pol_ II 10 § 16. [440] _Pol_ VI 2 § 3, cf 4 § 20, and _Ethics_ X 10 § 13. [441] _Pol_ VII 12 §§ 3-6. [442] _Pol_ VII 8 § 7. [443] II 6 § 6 ἀργοί (in his criticism of Plato’s _Laws_). [444] _Rhet_ I 12 § 25, cf Plato _Rep_ 565 α αὐτουργοί τε καὶ ἀπράγμονες. [445] _Rhet_ II 4 § 9, cf Euripides _Orestes_ 918-20. [446] _de mundo_ 6 §§ 4, 7, 13. [447] Even after the ruin of Phocis and the peace of 346 BC the old man wrote in the same strain. But it was to Philip, in whom he recognised the real master of Greece, that he now appealed. [448] References are too numerous to be given here. A _locus classicus_ is Dem _Lept_ §§ 30-3 pp 466-7, on the case of Leucon the ruler of Bosporus. We hear also of corn imported from Sicily and Egypt, and even (Lycurg § 26 p 151) from Epirus to Corinth. [449] Demosthenes _Olynth_ I § 27 p 17. [450] (Dem) _c Polycl_ §§ 5, 6 pp 1207-8. [451] A good case of such investment by guardians is Dem _Nausim_ § 7 p 986. [452] Dem _F Leg_ § 314 p 442, εἶτα γεωργεῖς ἐκ τούτων καὶ σεμνὸς γέγονας. [453] See cases in Aeschines _Timarch_ § 97 p 13, Dem _pro Phorm_ §§ 4, 5 p 945. The inheritance of Demosthenes himself included no landed property, _c Aphob_ I §§ 9-11 p 816. [454] Dem _F Leg_ § 146 p 386, cf § 114 p 376, § 265 p 426, _de cor_ § 41 p 239. [455] [Dem] _c Phaenipp_ §§ 5-7 pp 1040-1. [456] Aeschines mentions two ἐσχατιαὶ in the estate of Timarchus. [457] The lack of ξύλα in Attica made timber, like wheat, a leading article of commerce, and dealing in it was a sign of a wealthy capitalist. Cf Dem _F Leg_ § 114 p 376, _Mid_ § 167 p 568. [458] I suspect this is an exaggeration. [459] [Dem] _Lacrit_ §§ 31-3 p 933. [460] Dem _Androt_ § 65 p 613, repeated in _Timocr_ § 172 p 753. [461] Dem _Aristocr_ § 146 p 668. [462] Dem _c Callicl_ _passim_. [463] ἀστικοῦ, Dem _Callicl_ § 11 p 1274. [464] [Dem] _Nicostr_ _passim_. [465] [Dem] _Nicostr_ § 21 p 1253. [466] Dem _Pantaen_ § 45 p 979. [467] Dem _Eubulid_ § 65 p 1319. [468] Aeschin _Timarch_ § 99 p 14. [469] [Dem] _Euerg Mnes_ §§ 52-3 p 1155. [470] Twice, §§ 53, 76. [471] Hyperid _in Demosth_ fragm col 26. [472] [Dem] _c Timoth_ § 11 p 1187. [473] Dem _de Cor_ §§ 51-2 p 242. [474] [Dem] _c Timoth_ § 51 p 1199. [475] Ibid § 52. [476] Of course οἰκέτης is often loosely used as merely ‘slave.’ But here the antithesis seems to gain point from strict use. [477] I have not found this question distinctly stated anywhere. Beauchet _Droit privé_ IV 222 treats the μισθωτοὶ of this passage as freemen. But in II 443 he says that slaves hired from their owners were generally designated μισθωτοί. Nor do I find the point touched in Meier-Schömann-Lipsius (edition 1883-7, pp 889 foll), or any evidence that the πρόκλησις could be addressed to others than parties in a case. Wallon I 322 foll also gives no help. [478] Dem _Eubulid_ § 63 p 1318. [479] Hyperides _pro Euxen_, fragm §§ 16, 17, col 12, 13. [480] Dem _Olynth_ I § 27 p 17. [481] [Dem] C PHAENIPP §§ 5-7 pp 1040-1, §§ 19-21 pp 1044-5. [482] ὀπωρώνης, Dem DE COR § 262 p 314. [483] Dem _Eubulid_ § 45 p 1313, speaking of an old woman. [484] Aeschin _Timarch_ § 27 p 4. [485] We have already seen the case of olive-pickers in Aristoph _Vesp_ 712. [486] See Dem _Mid_ § 48 p 530, etc. [487] Aeschin _F Leg_ § 156 p 59. The passage of Dem _F L_ to which he refers is not in our text, for §§ 194-5 pp 401-2 is different. [488] See Plut _Aratus_ 14, 25, 27, 36, 39, 40, _Philopoemen_ 7, 15. [489] Isocr _paneg_ § 50 p 50. [490] V 64-5, cf XVII 9, 10. [491] XVI. [492] XVII. [493] XXII, XXV. [494] XXV. [495] XXV 1, 51. [496] XXV 27, cf XXIV 137. [497] XXV 86-152. [498] XXV 47-8. [499] VII 15-6. [500] III 35, cf XV 80. [501] X 9, cf 1, XXI 3. [502] XXIV 136-7. [503] XX 3, 4. [504] XVI 34-5. [505] XXV 56-9. [506] XIV 58-9, cf 13, 56, where στρατιώτας is a professional soldier. [507] _Char_ IV (XIV Jebb). [508] See Plutarch _de garrulitate_ 18. [509] Plut _Aratus_ 24, _Philopoemen_ 8. [510] Polyb IV 63. [511] IV 66. [512] IV 75, V 1, 3, 19. [513] X 42, etc. [514] XVIII 20. [515] XVI 24, XXI 6, etc. [516] XXI 34, 36, 43, 45. [517] V 89. [518] XXVIII 2. [519] V 89, cf XXV 4, XXI 6. [520] This topic is well treated by Mahaffy _Greek Life and Thought_ chapter I. [521] The best treatment of this matter known to me is in Bernays’ _Phokion_ pp 78-85. See Diodorus XVIII 18, Plutarch _Phoc_ 28. [522] According to Plut _Cleomenes_ 18, Sparta was very helpless before that king’s reforms. The Aetolians in a raid carried off 50000 slaves, and an old Spartan declared that this was a relief. [523] Freeman’s _Federal Government_ chapter V. [524] II 62. [525] See Strabo VIII 8 § 1 p 388, and cf Plut _Philopoemen_ 13. [526] Polyb IV 73. Theocritus had spoken of ἱππήλατος Ἆλις (XXII 156). Keeping horses was a mark of wealth. [527] Theocritus XXII 157 Ἀρκαδία τ’ εὔμαλος Ἀχαιῶν τε πτολίεθρα. Polyb IX 17, and IV 3 (Messenia). [528] Eubulus fragm 12, 34, 39, 53, 66, Kock. Also other references in Athenaeus X pp 417 foll. [529] Polyb XX 6. Otherwise Mahaffy in _Gk Life and Thought_ chapter XIII. [530] _FHG_ II pp 254-64, formerly attributed to Dicaearchus. Cited by E Meyer _Kleine Schriften_ p 137. [531] II 62. [532] IV 38. [533] IV 73, 75. [534] XXIII 1 § 11. [535] In the famous case of the siege of Rhodes in 305-4 BC (Diodorus XX 84, 100) freedom seems to have been a _reward_, as has been pointed out by A Croiset. [536] IV 20, 21. Compare Vergil _Buc_ X 32-3 _soli cantare periti Arcades_, VII 4-5. [537] In a fragment cited by Athenaeus p 272 _a_, cf 264 _c_. In Hultsch’s text Polyb XII 6. [538] Cited by Diodorus II 39, and by Arrian _Indica_ 10 §§ 8, 9. [539] Calderini _la manomissione_ etc chapter V. [540] See table in Collitz _Dialectinschriften_ II pp 635-42. [541] παραμονά, παραμένειν. [542] In 432 acts of manumission given in Wescher and Foucart _Inscriptions de Delphes_ 1863, I could not find one case of a rustic slave. [543] Ar _Pol_ II 3 § 4, cf saying of Diogenes in Stob _flor_ LXII 47. Menander fragm 760 K εἷς ἐστι δοῦλος οἰκίας ὁ δεσπότης. [544] See above, chapter XIII p 64. [545] So Jove _Poenulus_ 944-5. [546] _Casina_ 97 foll, _Poenulus_ 170-1, _Mostellaria_ 1-83. [547] _Mercator_ 65 foll. [548] _Mercator_ _passim_. [549] _Trinummus_ 508-61. [550] _Vidularia_ 31-2. [551] _Vidularia_ 21-55, text is fragmentary. [552] But not excluding it, since slaves were hired. [553] _Hautontimorumenos_ 62-74. [554] _Hautont_ 93-117. [555] _Hautont_ 142-4. [556] _Phormio_ 362-5, cf _Adelphoe_ 949. [557] _Hecyra_ 224-6. [558] _Adelphoe_ 45-6, cf 95, 401, 517-20, 845-9. [559] _Adelphoe_ 541-2. [560] Collitz I No. 345, Dittenberger 238-9. Mommsen’s notes in Hermes XVII. [561] καὶ τὴν χώραν μᾶλλον ἐξεργασθήσεσθαι. [562] That this neglect was not a new thing seems shewn by the saying of Alexander that the Thessalians deserved no consideration, ὅτι τὴν ἀρίστην κεκτημένοι οὐ γεωργοῦσι. Plut _apophth Alex_ 22. [563] Livy XXXIV 51 §§ 4-6. [564] Plutarch _Aratus_ 5-8. [565] Plut _Dion_ 27, 37, 48. [566] Plut _Timoleon_ 23, 36. [567] Plut _Aratus_ 9, 12, 14. [568] Plut _Philopoemen_ 3, 4. [569] In fact became an αὐτουργός. [570] _Bevölkerung der Griechisch-Römischen Welt_ pp 156-8. [571] Diodorus XVIII 70 § 1. [572] Livy XXXIV 50, Plut _Flamininus_ 13. [573] Polyb XXXIX 8 §§ 1-5. [574] Only in Appian _civ_ I 8 § 2. The provision is ascribed by Suet _Jul_ 42 to Julius Caesar. The two writers were contemporary. Whence did Appian get his story? [575] Case of Persia. [576] Cases of Messana, Syracuse, etc. [577] Case of Carthage. [578] Livy II 23 etc. [579] Referred to in Iwan Müller’s _Handbuch_ IV ii 2, ed 3 pp 533 foll, article by H Blümner. [580] That the household as a vigorous unit outlived the _gens_ is I think clear. I guess that this was because production for the supply of life-needs was more closely correlated with the former. Labour was more easily divorced from the clan-system than property was. [581] Cic _Cato mai_ § 56, Liv III 26, Dionys X 8, 17, Plin _NH_ XVIII 20, Valer Max IV 7. The discrepancies in the versions do not concern us here. [582] Liv III 13 §§ 8-10, Dionys X 8. [583] Liv III 27 § 1. [584] Liv X 36 § 17, Dionys VI 3, etc. [585] Liv II 22 §§ 5-7. [586] Varro _sat Men_ fr 59 and title of his satire _Marcipor_. Quintilian I 4 § 26, Festus p 306 L = 257 M _Marcipor Oppii_ in title of Plaut _Stichus_. Sallust _hist_ fr III 99 Maurenbrecher. Inscriptions CIL I 1076, 1034, 1386, Dessau 7822-3. For Pliny see below. [587] Argument as in Luke’s gospel 17 §§ 7-9. [588] Cic _Cato mai_ §§ 55-6, etc. [589] Dionys XIX 15. [590] Preserved in a fragment of Dion Cassius, fr 40 § 27. [591] Columella I 4 § 2, Pliny _NH_ XVIII §§ 27-8, cf Valer Max IV 4 § 4. [592] Livy _epit_ XVIII. [593] Valer Max IV 4 § 6. The version given in Seneca _ad Helv_ 12 § 5 is much the same, but ends characteristically _fuitne tanti servum non habere, ut colonus eius populus Romanus esset?_ Here _colonus_ = tenant farmer. [594] _colendum locari._ [595] Plin _NH_ XVIII § 39. [596] Polyb I 31 § 4. [597] Cato 5 § 4 (of duties of _vilicus_) _operarium mercennarium politorem diutius eundem ne habeat die_. [598] How far we can infer this from references to slaves such as Livy XXIII 32 § 15 (215 BC), XXV 1 § 4 (213 BC), XXVI 35 § 5 (210 BC), is not quite certain. The Licinian law to check the grabbing of state domain land certainly does not prove it, for that land was probably for the most part pasture. [599] Liv XXVIII 11 § 9. [600] Weissenborn’s note on the passage. [601] Liv XXII 57 § 11, and index to Livy under _volones_. [602] Liv XXIII 49 §§ 1-4, XXIV 18 § 11, XXV 1 § 4, 3 § 8-4 § 11. [603] Liv XXI 63 §§ 3, 4, Cic II _in Verr_ V § 45. [604] Liv XXVI 36. [605] Liv XXIX 16 §§ 1-3. [606] Liv XXXI 13. [607] See Rudorff _gromatische Institutionen_ pp 287-8. [608] Liv XXXIII 42 § 3. [609] _lex agraria_, line 31, in Bruns’ _fontes_ or Wordsworth’s _Specimens_. [610] Appian _civ_ I 7 § 5. But the account given in this passage of the spread of _latifundia_ and slave-gangs is too loose to be of much value. In particular, the assertion that slave-breeding was already common and lucrative is not to be believed. Appian was misled by the experience of his own day. See Sallust _Iug_ 41 § 8 _interea parentes aut parvi liberi militum, uti quisque potentiori confinis erat, sedibus pellebantur_. [611] The urban artisans engaged in the sedentary trades do not concern us here. See Weissenborn on Liv VIII 20 § 4 _opificum vulgus et sellularii_. [612] Dionys III 31, IV 9, 13, etc. [613] Dionys VI 79, a passage much coloured by later notions. [614] Liv VII 4, 5. A slightly different and shorter version in Cic _de off_ III § 112. [615] Cic _pro Sex Roscio_ § 46 recognizes this familiarity. [616] Sallust _Catil_ 4 § 1. [617] Cic _pro Sex Roscio_ §§ 39-51. [618] Cic _pro Sex Roscio_ §§ 50-1. [619] Livy VI 12 § 5, cf VII 25 § 8. [620] Dionys XVII [XVIII] 4. L Postumius Megellus was consul 305, 294, 291 BC. The story relates to his third consulship. His earlier career may be followed in Liv IX 44, X 26 § 15, 32 § 1, 37, 46 § 16. [621] Liv _epit_ XI. [622] See the precept of Mago cited by Pliny _NH_ XVIII § 35. [623] That is, on those possessed of a certain minimum of property, which was lowered in course of time. Originally reckoned on land only, thus reckoning only those settled on farms (_adsidui_). See Mommsen _Staatsrecht_ index. The rise in the census numbers between 131 and 125 BC is explained by Greenidge _History_ p 150 as due to the increase of _adsidui_ through effect of Gracchan legislation. [624] See Greenidge _History_ pp 60-1, 424-5. [625] See Cato’s opinion cited by Cic _de off_ II § 89, Columella VI _praef_ §§ 3-5, Plin _NH_ XVIII §§ 29, 30. [626] Cic _in Catil_ II § 18. [627] Cic _in Catil_ II § 20, cf _de lege agr_ II § 78 _fundos quorum subsidio familiarum magnitudines sustentare possint_. [628] _familiis magnis._ [629] Livy VI 12 § 5, cf VII 25 § 8. [630] Cairnes _The Slave Power_ ch III. [1862, second edn. 1863.] [631] Cic _de republ_ III § 16. [632] But see the oratorical picture of the bad steward, Cic II _in Verrem_ III § 119. That remarkable passage still leaves my questions unanswered, for the comparison with Verres is superficial and only serves a temporary purpose. [633] Varro I 2 § 17, 17 §§ 5, 7. [634] Cato 2 § 7, cf Martial XI 70. [635] As Cato 5 § 2 says, _dominus inpune ne Sinat esse_. [636] Foreshadowed in Xenophon _memor_ II 8. [637] Compare the case of the _mercennarius_ and Regulus referred to above. [638] Columella I _praef_ §§ 3, 12, 13, 20, XII _praef_ §§ 8-10. [639] Pliny _NH_ XVIII §§ 41-3 (of earlier times), XIV §§ 48-50 (speculations), XVIII §§ 273-4. [640] M Weber _Römische Agrargeschichte_ pp 242 foll. [641] Sueton _Aug_ 32, _Tib_ 8, cf Seneca the elder _contr_ X 4 § 18. Later, Spart _Hadr_ 18. In law, Digest XXXIX 4 § 12². [642] Even a _valetudinarium_ is provided. See Columella XI 1 § 18, XII 1 § 6, 3 §§ 7, 8. [643] Columella I 7. [644] Weber _op cit_ pp 244-5. See the chapter on Columella for this interpretation. It can hardly be considered certain, but it is not vital to the argument. [645] Varro I 17 § 2, cf Colum I 3 § 12. [646] Varro I 17 §§ 3-6. [647] Plato _Laws_ 777 _d_, Arist _Pol_ VII 10 § 13, [Ar] _Oec_ I 5 § 6. [648] Livy XXXIII 36 § 1. [649] Livy XXXIX 29 §§ 8, 9, cf 41 § 6. [650] Diodorus book XXXIV, and other authorities enumerated in my _Roman Republic_ § 683. [651] Strabo XIV 1 § 38 [p 646], Diodorus XXXIV 2 § 26. [652] Diodorus XXXVI. [653] According to Appian _civ_ I 116 § 2 he was at first joined by some free rustics. The same seems to have been the case in Sicily and Asia. [654] Sallust _Catil_ 44 §§ 5, 6, 56 § 5. [655] Tacitus _ann_ IV 27. [656] Tacitus _ann_ III 53-5. [657] Text edited by Keil 1895. [658] Plutarch _Cato maior_ 27. [659] Jordan’s edition of his remains, p 77, Plut _Cat mai_ 23. [660] Pliny _NH_ XVIII §§ 29, 30, and Cicero _de off_ II § 89, Columella VI _praef_ §§ 3-5. [661] Jordan _op cit_ p 43. Plutarch _Cat mai_ 4. [662] Plut _Cat mai_ 3-5, 20-1. [663] Cato _agr_ 3 § 1, Pliny _NH_ XVIII § 32. [664] Cato _agr_ 4. [665] Cato _agr_ 56-7. [666] Cato _agr_ 16, 136-7, 146. [667] In 147 the _emptor_ of a season’s lambs seems to be bound to provide a _pastor_, who is held as a pledge to secure the final settlement. [668] Cato _agr praef_. [669] Cato _agr_ 10 § 1, 11 § 1. [670] 2 § 7 _patrem familias vendacem non emacem esse oportet_. [671] Cato _agr_ 1. [672] Mommsen in _Hermes_ XV p 408. [673] _praef_ § 2, 1 § 4. According to a speaker in Seneca _controv_ VII 6 § 17 Cato’s later wife was _coloni sui filiam ... ingenuam_. Plut _Cat mai_ 24 makes her πελάτιν, that is daughter of a client. There seems to be no real contradiction. The _cliens_ might be his patron’s tenant. [674] 2 § 7 _boves vetulos ... servum senem, servum morbosum ... vendat_. Cf Plut _Cat mai_ 5, Martial XI 70, Juvenal X 268-70. In Terence _Hautont_ 142-4 the Old Man, on taking to farming, sells off all his household slaves save such as are able to pay for their keep _opere rustico faciundo_. His motive for giving up domestic comfort and taking to hard manual labour on the land is to punish himself. So _ibid_ 65-74 he appears as neglecting to keep his farm-hands at work. [675] Plut _Cat mai_ 21. [676] Pliny _NH_ XVIII § 35. [677] Polyb XXXII 13 §§ 10, 11. [678] Plut _Cat mai_ 21, 25, 4. [679] Jordan _op cit_ p 43. [680] Cf Plin _epist_ III 19 § 5. [681] Plut _Cat mai_ 21, 4. [682] Plut _Cat mai_ 20. [683] Pliny even refers to his precepts as _oracula_. [684] Cato _agr_ 1 § 3 _operariorum copia siet_. [685] Cato _agr_ 4 _operas facilius locabis, operarios facilius conduces_. [686] Cato _agr_ 5, 83, 143. [687] Cato _agr_ 2 § 1. [688] Cato _agr_ 13 § 1 _duo custodes liberi ... tertius servus_ ... etc. [689] Ibid 66 _ubi factores vectibus prement_. [690] Ibid 64 § 1. [691] Ibid 144. [692] Ibid 144-5. [693] Ibid 146. [694] Ibid 149 § 2. [695] Ibid 150. [696] Ibid 66-7. [697] Ibid 56. [698] Ibid 10 § 1, 11 § 1. [699] It is to be noted that _bubulci_ are to be indulgently treated, in order to encourage them to tend the valued oxen with care. 5 § 6. [700] Ibid 56 _compeditis ... ubi vineam fodere coeperint_. Cf Columella I 9 § 4. [701] Ibid 14. [702] Ibid 16, 38. [703] Ibid 136. In 5 § 4 the _politor_ appears as a hired wage-earner, apparently paid by the job. In Varro III 2 § 5 we find _fundo ... polito cultura_. See Nonius p 66 M for _politiones = agrorum cultus diligentes_. Greenidge _hist_ p 79 regards the _politores_ as métayer tenants, why, I do not know. [704] Ibid 7 § 2, 21 § 5. [705] Ibid 5, especially § 4 _operarium, mercennarium, politorem diutius eundem ne habeat die_. This is taken by Wallon II pp 100, 345, to mean that these hired men are to be paid off at the end of their stipulated term. Keil thinks they are to be dischargeable at a day’s notice. _eundem_ seems to imply that it was convenient to change your hired men often. [706] Ibid 2 § 2, and § 4 _viam publicam muniri_. [707] The account given in Greenidge’s _History of Rome_ deserves special reference here. On pp 266-7 he well points out that it was not the Gracchan aim to revive the free labourer but the peasant proprietor. [708] This is known from the _lex agraria_ of which a large part is preserved. See text in Bruns’ _Fontes_ or Wordsworth’s _Specimens_. Translated and explained in Dr E G Hardy’s _Six Roman Laws_. [709] Perhaps some inference may be drawn from Sallust _Iug_ 73 § 6 _plebes sic accensa uti opifices agrestesque omnes, quorum res fidesque in manibus sitae erant, relictis operibus frequentarent Marium_ ... etc, though this refers directly to political support, not to the recruiting of troops. [710] See the important paper by Dr E G Hardy _Journ Phil_ 1913. [711] _Monum Ancyr_ III 22 [cap XVI]. [712] Varro _RR_ I 2 §§ 3, 6. I find since writing this that Heisterbergk _Entstehung des Colonats_ p 57 treats this utterance, rightly, as rhetorical. [713] See Mr Storr-Best’s translation, Introduction pp xxvii-xxx. [714] _RR_ I 4 § 5. Surely in 49 Varro was in Spain. [715] As in _RR_ II _praef_ § 6. [716] The wild hill-pastures are referred to by Varro _RR_ II 1 § 16 as still leased to _publicani_ to whom the _scriptura_ or registration fees had to be paid. I have given further references in my _Roman Republic_ § 1351. See M Weber _Römische Agrargeschichte_ pp 135 foll. [717] _RR_ I 18. [718] _RR_ I 17. [719] _RR_ I 6-16. [720] [_genus_] _vocale_, _semivocale_, _mutum_. [721] These are specimens only. Others would be hired freemen, asses, and (near a river) barges. [722] _ipsi_ suggests peasant owners. [723] _pauperculi cum sua progenie._ [724] _mercennariis ... conducticiis liberorum operis._ [725] _obaerarios_ or _obaeratos_, who work off a debt by labour for a creditor. [726] _de quibus universis._ This seems to refer to all human workers. [727] _gravia loca._ Cf I 12 § 2. [728] _operarios parandos esse_, not _conducendos_, for these are clearly slaves. Cf I 16 § 4. [729] The text here is damaged. I give the apparent meaning. [730] _qui praesint_, a very general expression. [731] That is, obedience. [732] _offensiones domesticas._ Varro may have in mind the Syrians in the Sicilian slave-wars and the Thracians and Gauls under Spartacus. [733] _peculium._ [734] Here also the text is doubtful. [735] _RR_ II 3 § 7 _in lege locationis fundi excipi solet ne colonus capra natum in fundo pascat_. [736] _RR_ I 2 § 17 _leges colonicas_ ... etc. [737] Caesar _BC_ I 34, 56. [738] _servis libertis colonis suis._ [739] _colonis pastoribusque._ [740] As a creditor on a debtor. [741] _RR_ I 16 § 4 _itaque in hoc genus coloni potius anniversarios habent vicinos, quibus imperent, medicos fullones fabros, quam in villa suos habeant_. [742] _RR_ II _praef_ § 5, cf I 2 § 13 foll, and Columella VI _praef_ §§ 1, 2. [743] They evidently own slaves, though not special craftsmen, and are distinct from the _pauperculi_ of I 17 § 2. [744] _RR_ II _praef_ §§ 3, 4. [745] _RR_ III 16 §§ 10, 11. [746] _RR_ II 10 §§ 4, 5. [747] _RR_ I 22 § 1. Basket work is often referred to in scenes of country life. Cf Verg _buc_ II 71-2, _georg_ I 266. [748] _RR_ III 3 § 4, 17 § 6. [749] Cf Cato 56, Columella I 9 § 4. [750] _RR_ I 18 §§ 2, 6. [751] _valetudini tempestati inertiae indiligentiae._ [752] In _RR_ III 2 § 5 _cum villa non sit sine fundo magno et eo polito cultura_ the reference is quite general. [753] This is well illustrated by the words of Cicero _de republ_ V § 5. [754] As in his opinion the younger Cato did. [755] See _pro Murena_ § 62, where _disputandi causa_ is opposed to _ita vivendi_. [756] See _Brutus_ § 257, _de orat_ I §§ 83, 263, II § 40, _de finibus_ V § 52, _Tusc disp_ I § 34, III § 77, V § 104. The _messores_ whose rustic brogue is referred to in _de orat_ III § 46 surely are free Italians. [757] From lack of the _ingenuae artes_ and _liberales doctrinae_ etc. [758] _de offic_ I § 150 _inliberales autem et sordidi quaestus mercennariorum omnium quorum operae non quorum artes emuntur: est enim in illis ipsa merces auctoramentum servitutis_. [759] The _operae_ often referred to. [760] The _familiae publicanorum_. The _publicani_ complained loudly when their slave-staff was in danger from the violence of others. Cf _de imperio Pompei_ § 16. [761] Cf the famous case of Clodius and Milo. [762] Cf _pro Rosc com_ §§ 32, 49, 54, _pro Tullio_ § 21. [763] For a discussion of these see Greenidge in the Appendix to _The legal procedure of Cicero’s time_. [764] _pro Tullio_ §§ 7-12. [765] _pro Tullio_ §§ 14-22. [766] § 17 _mittit ad procuratorem litteras et ad vilicum_. [767] To conduct of this kind Cicero makes a general reference in _Paradoxa_ VI § 46 _expulsiones vicinorum ... latrocinia in agris_. [768] _pro Caecina_ §§ 10-19. [769] _pro Caecina_ § 1 _in agro locisque desertis_. [770] _pro Vareno_ fragm 5, _pro Cluentio_ § 161, cf _pro Tullio_ § 8. [771] _in toga candida_ fragm 11 _alter pecore omni vendito et saltibus prope addictis pastores retinet, ex quibus ait se cum velit subito fugitivorum bellum excitaturum_. For the _fugitivi_ in Sicily cf II _in Verrem_ II § 27, III § 66, IV § 112, V _passim_, and the famous inscription of Popilius, Wilmanns 797 and Wordsworth _specimens_ pp 221, 475, CIL I 551, referring to first Sicilian slave-war. [772] _Brutus_ § 85. [773] _pro Roscio Amer_ §§ 39-51. [774] _pro Caecina_ §§ 58, 63. [775] Thus in _pro Cluentio_ § 163 a disreputable tool is _mercennarius Oppianici_. [776] _de officiis_ I § 151 _quorum ordini conveniunt_. [777] _de officiis_ I § 41. [778] II _in Verrem_ I § 147, IV § 77. [779] Thus of orators, _Brutus_ § 297, _de orat_ I §§ 83, 263, cf II § 40. Also _opifex_ in _Tusc disp_ V § 34. [780] _de orat_ I § 249 _si mandandum aliquid procuratori de agri cultura aut imperandum vilico est_. [781] _pro Tullio_ § 17 _mittit ad procuratorem litteras et ad vilicum_. [782] Cicero’s own estate at Arpinum seems to have been let in _praediola_ to tenants. See _ad Att_ XIII 9 § 2. [783] _pro Caecina_ §§ 17, 57, 94. [784] _pro Caecina_ § 57, cf 63. So in § 58 the word _familia_ is shewn not to be limited to slaves personally owned by the litigant referred to. [785] II _in Verrem_ III §§ 53-5, and _passim_. These _arationes_ paid _decumae_. [786] _pro Cluentio_ §§ 175, 182. [787] _de orat_ II § 287. [788] _de republ_ V § 5, where the perfect ruler is a sort of blend of _dispensator_ and _vilicus_. [789] _pro Plancio_ § 62. [790] II _in Verrem_ III § 119. [791] _pro Rabirio_ §§ 10-17. [792] _hanc condicionem ... quam servi, si libertatis spem propositam non haberent, ferre nullo modo possent._ [793] _Philippic_ VIII § 32. [794] Cic _ad fam_ XVI 16 § 1 _eum indignum illa fortuna nobis amicum quam servum esse maluisti_. [795] _pro Roscio Amer_ § 120 _homines paene operarios_. [796] II _in Verrem_ III § 27. [797] _quid, qui singulis iugis arant, qui ab opere ipsi non recedunt_ ... etc. [798] The infamous henchman of Verres. [799] Diodorus fragm XXXIV 2 § 48, XXXVI 5 § 6. [800] _de lege agr_ II §§ 80-3. [801] See Beloch _Campanien_ pp 304-6. [802] _de lege agr_ II § 84 _agros desertos a plebe atque a cultura hominum liberorum esse non oportere_. [803] _genus ... optimorum et aratorum et militum ... illi miseri, nati in illis agris et educati, glaebis subigendis exercitati_ ... etc. [804] _de lege agr_ II §§ 88-9 _locus comportandis condendisque fructibus, ut aratores cultu agrorum defessi urbis domiciliis uterentur ... receptaculum aratorum, nundinas rusticorum, cellam atque horreum Campani agri_ ... etc. [805] _de lege agr_ II § 82 _deinde ad paucos opibus et copiis adfluentis totum agrum Campanum perferri videbitis_. [806] See above, chap XXV p 183. [807] Sallust _Cat_ 4 § 1. [808] Sallust _Cat_ 37 § 7 _iuventus, quae in agris manuum mercede inopiam toleraverat_ ... etc. [809] Sallust _Iug_ 73 § 6 _opifices agrestesque omnes, quorum res fidesque in manibus sitae erant_ ... etc. [810] Two notorious instances are Pompey and M Brutus. [811] Horace _Odes_ II 15, III 6, etc. [812] Horace _Odes_ IV 5, 15, etc. [813] A picture forestalled by Lucretius III 1053-75. [814] Already illustrated in the case of Cato noted above. [815] See Cic _de legibus_ III § 30. Cf Horace _epodes_ IV. [816] See Rostowzew, _Röm Colonat_, for detailed inquiry into Eastern phenomena, Egyptian in particular. For the case of China see reference to Macgowan [Appendix D 6]. A very interesting account of the system in Hindustan in the 17th century, with criticism of its grave abuses, may be found in the _Travels in the Mogul empire_ by François Bernier, ed 2 by V A Smith, Oxford 1914, pages 226-38. I believe the legal phrase is ‘Eminent Domain.’ [817] In Greenidge, _History_ pp 292-3, there are some good remarks on the process. [818] Frontinus grom I p 35, Columella III 3 § 11, and Heisterbergk’s remarks cited below. See Index, _Italian land and taxation_. [819] Tacitus _ann_ II 59 _seposuit Aegyptum hist_ I 11 _domi retinere_. This need not be taken to mean that he treated it strictly as part of his private estate, as Mommsen thought. See on the controversy a note of E Meyer _Kl Schr_ p 479. [820] See M Weber _Agrargeschichte_ pp 243 foll. [821] The estates of Atticus in Epirus are a leading case of this. Horace _epist_ I 12 refers to those of Agrippa in Sicily. Such cases have nothing to do with emigration of working farmers, in which I do not believe. Surely Greenidge _History_ p 270 is right in saying that the Gracchan scheme of colonization was commercial rather than agricultural. Also the municipalities, beside their estates in Italy, held lands in the Provinces. See Tyrrell and Purser on Cic _ad fam_ XIII 7 and 11. In general, Seneca _epist_ 87 § 7, 89 § 20, Florus II 7 § 3. [822] We may perhaps carry this back into the time of the Republic. See the references to the royal domains of Macedon, Livy XLV 18 § 3, and with others Cic _de lege agr_ II § 50. [823] See the chapter on the African inscriptions. [824] For the cases of India and China see references to Sir A Fraser and Macgowan [Appendix D 6]. [825] Tacitus _ann_ XIV 27 records the failure of Nero’s colonization of veterans singly in Italy, who mostly returned to the scenes of their service. He strangely regrets the abandonment of the old plan of settling them in whole legions. It is to be remembered that in the later Empire the army was more and more recruited from the barbarians. [826] The γῆ κληρουχική, assigned in κλῆροι to soldiers. [827] See Herodotus II 165-7, cf 141, Strabo XV 1 § 40 (p 704), § 34 (p 701), § 54 (p 710), cf Diodorus II 40-1, Arrian _Indica_ 10 §§ 8, 9. The references to slave-traffic in the _Periplus maris Erythraei_ do not really imply existence of a slave-system in India. See Rapson _Ancient India_ p 97. Much of interest in Sir J D Rees, _The real India_, on the Land-system etc. In _The early history of India_ by V A Smith the existence of slavery in India is maintained. [828] See Dionysius II 28, cf 8, 9. [829] The _operae_ referred to in the African inscriptions. [830] It is possible to see a beginning of this system in the tenancy-on-shares (the _colonia partiaria_) which we find not only in Italy but in Africa as a recognized plan. [831] This is the view of Rostowzew _Röm Colonat_ p 397. [832] Hor _Sat_ II 7 23, _Epist_ II 1 139-40. [833] Hor _Odes_ I 12. [834] _Odes_ II 15, 18, _Sat_ II 6 6-15. [835] _Odes_ III 6. [836] _Odes_ III 5. See above pp 139-40. [837] _Odes_ III 1 _redemptor cum famulis_. [838] _Odes_ II 3, _Epist_ II 2 177-8. [839] _Odes_ I 1, II 16, III 16. [840] _Odes_ I 1 _patrios ... agros_, Epode II 3 _paterna rura bobus exercet suis_. [841] _Epode_ IV 13 _arat Falerni mille fundi iugera_, etc. [842] _Odes_ III 16 _quicquid arat impiger Apulus_. [843] _Epode_ II 39 foll. [844] A fact recognized by Horace himself in lines 14-16 of _Odes_ III 4, and _Sat_ I 5 lines 77 foll. [845] _Odes_ I 35 _pauper ... ruris colonus_, II 14 _inopes coloni_. _Sat_ II 2 115, where the fact of expulsion in favour of a military pensioner is judiciously ignored. See below. [846] These _coloni_ of course owned their farms; that is, were _domini_. _Odes_ III 4 lines 37-8, _Sat_ II 6 55-6. [847] _Odes_ I 1 _mercator ... indocilis pauperiem pati_, cf III 2. [848] So Cicero’s estate at Arpinum is spoken of _ad Att_ XIII 9 § 2 as _praediola_ and was perhaps let in the same way. [849] Cf Seneca _epist_ 47 § 14, 86 § 14. [850] The ownership of the slaves is another matter, for in letting farms the _dominus_ often supplied the slaves. See Index, _instrumentum_. [851] I find that Mr Warde Fowler, _The death of Turnus_ p 105, also takes this view. But he understands _pater_ to imply that the man brought up a family, which I do not. I agree that it gives the idea of headship of a household. [852] _Italische Landeskunde_ II p 615. [853] The description of such an _agellus_ in Plin _epist_ I 24 illustrates the wants of a literary landowner excellently. [854] Tibullus II 1 51 _agricola adsiduo ... satiatus aratro_. [855] Tibullus II 6 25-6. [856] Ovid _fasti_ I 207, III 779-82, IV 693-4. [857] Ovid _metam_ I 135-6, Manilius I 73-4. [858] Vitruvius II 1. [859] I cannot accept Prof. Richmond’s view (Inaugural lecture 1919 p 25) of the _Georgics_ as ‘concerned with every side of husbandry.’ [860] Whether Vergil suffered two expulsions, and what is the chronological order of eclogues I and IX, are questions that do not affect my inquiry. [861] Pliny _epist_ III 10 § 7. [862] _Aen_ VII 641-817, IX 603-13. [863] e.g. _Aen_ VI 613. [864] Ellis on Catullus XXIII 1. [865] See page 217. [866] Sueton _Vespas_ I. [867] Keightley includes Mago, whether rightly or not I am not sure. Conington’s Introduction treats this matter fully. [868] The futility of addressing rustic readers in polished literary language (_diserte_) is commented on by Palladius [4th cent AD] in his opening sentences. He has been thought to have in view Columella, who by the by is Vergil’s great admirer. I cannot accept the views of Daubeny in his _Lectures_ pp 3-5. It is possible that the use of fire in improving land may be a bit of Vergil’s own advice, but I doubt it. See Daubeny pp 91-4, _georg_ I 84 foll. [869] E Meyer _Kl Schr_ p 488 describing the hopeless task of Augustus in attempting the moral and physical regeneration of Italy makes the general remark ‘Nur an die höheren Stände, nur an die Elite, konnte Augustus sich wenden.’ This is a true picture of the situation as a whole. To have to begin building at the top was fatal. [870] Most clearly stated in Columella I 7. [871] For _coloni_ of Cicero’s time see II _in Verr_ III § 55, _pro Caecina_ § 94, _pro Cluent_ §§ 175, 182. The references in Horace are given below. That letting to tenants was practised about 100 BC or earlier, appears certain from the reference to Saserna’s opinion on this policy in Columella I 7 § 4. [872] Velleius II 88, and many passages in Seneca and other authors. [873] Dion Cass LII 27-8. [874] Compare Suet _Aug_ 41 for the Emperor’s actual policy. It seems that the influx of specie captured at Alexandria sent the rate of interest down and the price of land up. [875] This is admirably dealt with in Sellar’s _Virgil_, and need not be reproduced here. [876] Mr T R Glover, _Virgil_ p 14, reminds us that the poet’s father is said to have done some business in timber at one time. [877] When Cicero _de orat_ III § 46 credits _messores_ with a rustic brogue he can hardly be thinking of foreign slaves. [878] As in Lucan VII 402 _vincto fossore_. [879] Varro _RR_ II 10. [880] See Varro _RR_ II 2 § 20, 5 § 18, 7 § 16, even for treatment of _homines_ 10 § 10. Written books of prescriptions were provided. [881] _Georg_ III 515-30. [882] _tristis_ suggests the owner. A slave was not likely to care. [883] In Sellar’s _Virgil_ chapter VI § 5 there is an excellent treatment of this episode, with a discussion of V’s relation to Lucretius and a most apposite quotation from G Sand. [884] Varro II 5 § 4, Columella VI _praef_ § 7, Plin _NH_ VIII § 180. [885] The _molle atque facetum_ attributed to V by Horace is I think rightly explained by Quintilian VI 3 § 20, and amounts to easy and fastidious taste, of course the result of careful revision, his practice of which is attested in the Suetonian biography. [886] So Tibullus II 1 41-2. [887] Cf Cic _de off_ I §§ 41, 150, passages in which the growth of the technical sense is seen. [888] See the interesting story of the bee-farm in Varro _RR_ III 16 §§ 10, 11. [889] Pliny _NH_ XIX §§ 50-1. [890] II 412-3 _laudato ingentia rura, exiguum colito_. Not found in surviving text of Cato. [891] II 532. [892] I 125-8, II 336-42. [893] II 136-76. [894] Dionys _Hal_ I 36-7, Strabo VI 4 § 1, p 286, Varro _RR_ I 2 §§ 1-7. [895] Horace _Odes_ IV 5, 15, published about 14 BC. So Martial V 4 declares that Domitian has made Rome _pudica_. [896] Sueton _Aug_ 32 (cf _Tib_ 8), and the elder Seneca _contr_ X 4 § 18. Even in the second century AD, Spart _Hadr_ 18 § 9 _ergastula servorum et liberorum tulit_. Perhaps the _ergastula_ in Columella I 3 § 12 refer to the same practice. [897] H Blümner in Müller’s _Handbuch_ IV 2 2 p 543 says that Varro does not refer to the _Kolonat als Pacht_. But that sense seems clearly implied in I 2 § 17, II 3 § 4 _in lege locationis fundi_. In I 16 § 4 it surely includes tenants, even if the application is more general. In II _praef_ § 5 _colonus_ is simply = _arator_, opposed to _pastor_. [898] Columella I 7. [899] Pliny _epist_ III 19, IX 37. [900] This reminds us of Varro’s words, speaking (I 17 § 2) of free workers ... _cum ipsi colunt, ut plerique pauperculi cum sua progenie_. [901] Cf Tibullus II 1 23 _turbaque vernarum saturi bona signa coloni_. [902] See above, p 216. [903] Hor _epist_ I 14 39, cf II 2 184-6. [904] Hor _Sat_ I 3 99 foll, where _animalia_ seems to mean little more than _homines_. [905] Hor _Sat_ II 6 55-6, _Odes_ III 4 37-40. [906] The one reference to the assignations [_G_ II 198] only speaks of the misfortune of Mantua, not of his own. [907] Hor _Epist_ I 16 69-72. [908] Hor _Sat_ I 1 28, 32. [909] For the story of the φιάλη (freedman’s offering) sent yearly by Maecenas to Augustus as a recognition of his restoration of Roman freedom, see Gardthausen _Augustus_ VII 7 and notes. [910] _Monum Ancyr_ ed Mommsen, I 16-9, III 22-8. [911] Tacitus _ann_ XIV 53. [912] Gardthausen _Augustus_ VII 7, pp 768-9. He quotes Schol ad Juvenal V 3 (Maecenas) _ad quem sectio bonorum Favoni pertinuerat_. [913] Varro _RR_ I 17, a notable chapter. [914] Livy VI 12, VII 25. [915] Plin _NH_ XXXVII §§ 201-3. [916] _Augustus_ VI 3, p 547. [917] Macrob _Sat_ I 11 § 22. [918] Dion Cass XLVIII 6 § 3. [919] The words of Donatus (after Suetonius) in his life of Vergil. Reifferscheid’s Suetonius p 59. [920] Keightley (1846) says the same. [921] With much respect and regret, I cannot accept the views of Prof Conway in his inaugural lecture of 1903. [922] The absence of reference to Cicero has of course been noted. But this was general in the Augustan age. [923] Seneca _epist_ 86 § 15. [924] Seneca _controversiae_ II 1 § 26. [925] Seneca _excerpt contr_ V 5 [926] Compare the reference to unruly _servorum agmina_ in Calabria, Tac _ann_ XII 65, in the time of Claudius. [927] Seneca _excerpt contr_ VI 2. [928] Seneca _contr_ II 1 § 5. [929] Seneca _contr_ VII 6 § 18. [930] Seneca _contr_ X 4 § 18 _solitudines suas isti beati ingenuorum ergastulis excolunt_. See above p 233 and below on Columella p 263. [931] Seneca _contr_ VII 6 § 17, cf Plut _Cat mai_ 24. [932] Val Max IV 4 § 6. [933] Val Max IV 3 § 5, cf 4 § 7, 8 § 1. [934] Val Max VII 5 § 2. [935] Phaedr IV 5, II 8. [936] Such as Polybius the influential freedman of Claudius, to whom Seneca addressed a _consolatio_. [937] _Epist_ 77 § 7 is a notable passage. [938] Cf _de benef_ III 26. [939] As by the younger Pliny _paneg_ 42 on Trajan. [940] _de benef_ V 18 § 2, 19 § 1, VII 4 § 4. [941] _de clement_ I 18, _nat quaest_ I 16 § 1. [942] _de benef_ III 22 § 1, cf Athenaeus 276 b. [943] _de benef_ V 19 § 9, _epist_ 12 § 3. [944] _de constant_ (ad Serenum) 5 § 1. [945] _epist_ 47 § 14. [946] _epist_ 90 § 27, _artificem vides vitae_ etc. [947] _epist_ 65 § 6. [948] _epist_ 88 § 21. The contrast of _liberalis_ and _sordidus_ often occurs. [949] _epist_ 90 § 15. [950] _epist_ 44 § 3 _aquam traxit et rigando horto locavit manus_. [951] _epist_ 114 § 26 _quot millia colonorum arent fodiant_ ... etc. [952] _epist_ 123 § 2 _non habet panem meus pistor: sed habet vilicus, sed habet atriensis, sed habet colonus_. _atriensis_ = head of domestics, porter or butler. [953] _de benef_ VI 4 § 4 _colonum suum non tenet, quamvis tabellis manentibus, qui segetem eius proculcavit, qui succidit arbusta, non quia recepit quod pepigerat sed quia ne reciperet effecit. Sic debitori suo creditor saepe damnatur, ubi plus ex alia causa abstulit quam ex crediti petit._ [954] The _pactum_ implied in _pepigerat_. [955] _de benef_ VII 5 §§ 2, 3, _conduxi domum a te; in hac aliquid tuum est, aliquid meum; res tua est, usus rei tuae meus est. itaque nec fructus tanges colono tuo prohibente, quamvis in tua possessione nascantur ... nec conductum meum, quamquam sis dominus, intrabis, nec servum tuum, mercennarium meum, abduces_ ... etc. See the chapter on the Jurists of the Digest. [956] _epist_ 90 § 39 _licet itaque nunc conetur reparare quod perdidit, licet agros agris adiciat vicinum vel pretio pellens vel iniuria, licet in provinciarum spatium rura dilatet et possessionem vocet per sua longam peregrinationem_ ... etc. For _iniuria_ cf Columella I 3 §§ 6, 7. The violent expulsion of poor farmers by the rich is an old topic. Cf Sallust _Iug_ 41 § 8, Appian _civ_ I 7 § 5 and see index. [957] _epist_ 87 § 7 _quia in omnibus provinciis arat ... quia tantum suburbani agri possidet quantum invidiose in desertis Apuliae possideret_. [958] _de ira_ III 29 § 1. [959] Lucan VII 387-439. [960] _vincto fossore coluntur Hesperiae vegetes._ [961] I 158-82. [962] _longa sub ignotis extendere rura colonis._ Cf Seneca _de vita beata_ 17 § 2 _cur trans mare possides? cur plura quam nosti?_ and Petron 37. [963] VI 152 _o famuli turpes, servum pecus_. [964] Calpurn _ecl_ IV 118. [965] Petron § 37 _fundos habet qua milvi volant_. A proverbial phrase, cf Persius IV 26 _dives arat ... quantum non milvus oberret_, Juvenal IX 55. [966] Petron § 53. [967] _edicta aedilium._ [968] _saltuariorum testamenta._ They were evidently slaves and could only make wills by leave of their owner. See Dig XXXIII 7 § 12⁴. [969] Many times referred to in the book. [970] I 3 §§ 8-13. [971] Cf Plin _epist_ III 19 § 2 _pulchritudo iungendi_, and Mayor’s note. Petron § 77. [972] I 3 §§ 6, 7, where he even refers to a very disobliging neighbour of his own estate. [973] I 1 § 20 _longinqua ne dicam transmarina rura_ ... etc. [974] I _praef_ §§ 13-15, XII _praef_ §§ 8-10. [975] I _praef_ § 12. [976] I 7 _passim_. [977] If we are to hold that _opus_ here refers only to work on the particular farm hired by the tenant, I presume it includes improvements, as in Digest XIX 2 § 24³. [978] _remissionem petere non audet._ [979] _felicissimum fundum esse qui colonos indigenas haberet et tamquam in paterna possessione natos iam inde a cunabulis longa familiaritate retineret._ [980] _urbanum colonum, qui per familiam mavult agrum quam per se colere._ [981] _rusticos et eosdem adsiduos colonos._ [982] _in his regionibus quae gravitate caeli solique sterilitate vastantur._ Cf I 5 § 5, _gravibus_, and Varro I 17 § 2. [983] By H. Blümner in Müller’s _Handbuch_. So also Gummerus in _Klio_ 1906 pp 85-6. [984] _domini praesentia cariturum._ [985] Dig XXXIII 7 § 25¹, XIX 2 § 24, § 25³. [986] M Weber _Röm Agrargeschichte_ p 244. Of course _opus_ is a general term, not technical as _operae_ (= labour units) often is. See Vinogradoff _Growth of the Manor_ note 94 on p 110. From Horace _epist_ I 1 21 _opus debentibus_ I can get no help. [987] See below, in the chapter on the African inscriptions. [988] Caesar _civ_ I 34, 56. [989] Wallon, _Esclavage_ II 99, 100, refers to the long leasing of municipal estates, held in virtual perpetuity so long as the rent was paid. He cites Gaius III 145. So too estates of temples, and later of the _fiscus_. [990] Wallon II 120, cf Digest XXXIII 7 § 19, an opinion of Paulus. It seems to be a sort of _métayer_ system. See index. [991] But such as the _imbecilli cultores_ of Plin _epist_ III 19 § 6. [992] See case referred to by Paulus in Digest XXXI § 86¹. [993] I _praef_ § 12 _ex mercennariis aliquem_. In II 2 § 12 _operarum vilitas_, and IV 6 § 3 _operarum paenuria_, III 21 § 10 _plures operas quantocumque pretio conducere_, the hands hired may be slaves. [994] Of course not necessarily agricultural, in fact generally not. See my article in _Journal of Roman Studies_ 1918, and Index under _Emigration_. [995] Very different from the small farmers of old time, who were owners. [996] See for instance Digest XXXIII 7 § 18⁴, and § 20¹, opinions of Scaevola. [997] I 8 and XI 1. [998] I 8 §§ 1-3, XI 1 §§ 3, 4, 7. [999] I 8 §§ 3, 4, where he says that a man who learns how to do things _ab subiecto_ is not fitted _opus exigere_. XI 1 §§ 9-13 is not inconsistent with this, but lays more stress on the necessity of training the _vilicus_. [1000] I 8 § 5 _contubernalis mulier_. She is to be _vilica_, cf XII 1 §§ 1, 2. Apuleius _met_ VIII 22. [1001] _eidemque actori_ = him in his capacity of _actor_. Cf XI 1 §§ 13, 19. See Index, _actor_. [1002] I 8 §§ 6, 7, XI 1 §§ 22-3. [1003] _nisi ut addiscat aliquam culturam._ He is in a sense _colonus_, and hence his sphere of duty is called _colonia_ in XI 1 § 23. In I 4 §§ 4, 5 the value of experiments is recognized. [1004] I 8 § 8, XI 1 §§ 20-1. [1005] I 8 § 9, XI 1 § 21. [1006] I 8 § 10 _animi, quantum servile patitur ingenium, virtutibus instructus_. [1007] I 8 § 10, XI 1 § 25. [1008] I 8 § 11 _operis exactio, ut iusta reddantur, ut vilicus semper se repraesentet_, XI 1 §§ 25-6. [1009] _magistri singulorum officiorum_, XI 1 § 27. [1010] I 8 § 12, XI 1 § 23. [1011] I 8 § 13, XI 1 § 24. [1012] I 8 §§ 13-4, XI 1 §§ 27-30. [1013] In XI 1 §§ 4 foll this notion is, with citation of Xenophon, repudiated, and the need of training a steward emphasized. [1014] In XI 1 § 4 he cites a saying of Cato, _male agitur cum domino quem vilicus docet_. [1015] I 8 § 15. [1016] I 8 § 16 _ut ergastuli mancipia recognoscant_ ... etc. In XI 1 § 22 this appears as part of the steward’s daily duty. [1017] I 8 §§ 17-8 _quanto et pluribus subiecti, ut vilicis ut operum magistris ut ergastulariis, magis obnoxii perpetiendis iniuriis, et rursus saevitia atque avaritia laesi magis timendi sunt_. [1018] _an ex sua constitutione iusta percipiant._ _sua_ = the scale allowed by himself as _dominus_. [1019] I 8 § 19. [1020] _multum confert augendo patrimonio._ [1021] I 9 §§ 1-6. Cf XI 1 §§ 8, 9. [1022] _mediastinus._ [1023] Cf Dig XXXIII 7 § 8 pr. [1024] _vineta plurimum per alligatos excoluntur._ [1025] _ne confundantur opera familiae, sic ut omnes omnia exequantur._ [1026] I 9 §§ 7, 8. [1027] VI 2 § 15 _pecoris operarii_ (the very word also used = labourer), 3 § 3 _iumentis iusta operum reddentibus_. [1028] XI 1 § 18 _more optimi pastoris ... idem quod ille diligens opilio_. [1029] _valetudinarium_ XI 1 § 18, XII 1 § 6, 3 §§ 7, 8. [1030] IV 3 § 1 _quosdam emacitas in armentis, quosdam exercet in comparandis mancipiis; de tuendis nulla cura tangit_. Cf I 4 § 7. [1031] XII 3 especially §§ 1, 8, cf _praef_ § 9. He refers to Xenophon. [1032] VIII 11 § 2 _tamquam servitio liberatae_, also 12 and 15 § 7 _parere cunctantur in servitute_. [1033] I 6 § 3 _vinctis quam saluberrimum subterraneum ergastulum, plurimis idque angustis illustratum fenestris atque a terra sic editis ne manu contingi possint_. Cf XI 1 §§ 22. [1034] I 6 § 19 _rusticis balneis_. [1035] I 3 § 12 [our land-grabbers scorn moderation and buy up _fines gentium_ so vast that they cannot even ride round them] _sed proculcandos pecudibus et vastandos feris derelinquunt, aut occupatos nexu civium et ergastulis tenent_. Schneider explains _nexu_ etc as = _civibus ob aes alienum nexis_. Surely at this date it cannot be used in the strictly technical sense. See p 269. [1036] Like the _obaerarii_ or _obaerati_ of Varro I 17 § 2. See on that passage p 180. [1037] _suppressio._ See Index. [1038] VIII 2 § 7 _anus sedula_ may serve as _custos vagantium_. [1039] VI _praef_ § 4. [1040] I 8 § 5, 7 § 7, but in XII 3 § 6 for instance _actores_ are not = _vilici_. Schneider. [1041] See Cic _de oratore_ I § 249, _pro Tullio_ § 17. [1042] I 6 § 23. [1043] I 6 § 7 _procuratori supra ianuam ob easdem causas: et is tamen vilicum observet ex vicino_. Cf Plin _epist_ III 19 § 2. [1044] In Columella’s time. At a later date this could hardly be said, as the position of _coloni_ became worse. [1045] III 13 §§ 12, 13. Cf Dig XLIII 24 § 15¹. [1046] A good instance in Pliny _NH_ XIV 49, 50. [1047] III 21 § 10 (of hurry resulting from want of forethought) _cogitque plures operas quantocumque pretio conducere_. [1048] III 3 § 8. [1049] I _praef_ §§ 1, 2, II 1. Cf III 3 § 4 with Varro I 44 § 1. [1050] I 3 § 9 _nec dubium quin mimis reddat laxus ager non recte cultus quam angustus eximie_, IV 3 § 6. [1051] For milk-delivery see Calpurnius _ecl_ IV 25-6 _et lac venale per urbem non tacitus porta_. For cheese Verg _G_ III 402. [1052] VI _praef_ §§ 3-5. [1053] Also bee-keeping. [1054] VIII 10 §§ 3, 4. [1055] _quia nec parvo conducuntur qui mandant_ ... etc. [1056] II 9 §§ 14, 16. [1057] _siligo_, II 6 § 2, 9 § 13. [1058] I 6 §§ 9-17. [1059] II 20 § 6 _frumenta, si in annos reconduntur, ... sin protinus usui destinantur_ ... etc. [1060] I 2 § 3. [1061] As Plutarch _C Gracc_ 7 says εὐθεῖαι γὰρ ἤγοντο διὰ τῶν χωρίων ἀτρεμεῖs. [1062] I 5 §§ 6, 7. [1063] I 3 §§ 3, 4. [1064] II 13 § 7 _consummatio operarum_. [1065] II 21 § 10. [1066] I _praef_ § 12, XI 1 § 12. [1067] I _praef_ § 17 (of the non-urban population in old times) _qui rura colerent administrarentve opera colonorum_. The last three words are not in some MSS. [1068] I 4 § 4, Verg _G_ I 51-3. [1069] So the Greeks often refer to Homer as The Poet. [1070] _verissimo vati velut oraculo._ [1071] Verg _G_ IV 116 foll. [1072] Quintil X 1 §§ 46-131, especially §§ 85-6. [1073] See Tacitus _Germ_ 41 on the exceptionally favourable treatment of the Hermunduri, with Schweitzer-Sidler’s notes. [1074] Seneca _ad Helviam_ 7 § 7 refers to the colonies sent out to the provinces in earlier times, and is rhetorically exaggerated. [1075] Cf Nissen _Italische Landeskunde_ vol II pp 128-30. [1076] A notable utterance on this topic is Seneca _ad Helviam_ 6 §§ 2, 3. See Mayor’s notes on Juvenal III 58 foll. [1077] See Tacitus _Germ_ 29 for interesting matter bearing on these points. [1078] The numerous references need not be given here. They can be found in H. Schiller’s _Geschichte der Römischen Kaiserzeit_. [1079] Schiller I 515, 534. See Hyginus gromat I p 133, Frontinus _ibid_ pp 53-4, and the rescript of Domitian in Girard, _textes_ part I ch 4 § 5. Suetonius _Dom_ 9. [1080] Domitian also made ordinances forbidding new vineyards in Italy and enjoining the destruction of those in the Provinces. But these were not carried out. Schiller I 533. Suet _Dom_ 7, 14, Stat _silv_ IV 3 11-12. [1081] Schiller I 540. [1082] Plin _paneg_ 26-8. [1083] Schiller I 566, 623, 630, 656. [1084] Schiller I 566. [1085] Capitolinus _M Aurel_ II § 7. The text is in some doubt. [1086] Schiller I 651. [1087] Schiller I 566. Plin _epist_ VI 19 depicts the situation fully. The aim was to make them feel Italy their _patria_. See the jealousy of rich Provincials shewn by senators, Tac _Ann_ XI 23. [1088] Schiller I 656. [1089] The remarkable community of Lamasba is referred to below in a note after chapter XXXVII. [1090] The _locus classicus_ on emigrant Romans is Cic _pro Fonteio_ §§ 11-13, which belongs to 69 BC. Cf Sallust _Iug_ 21, 26, 47. [1091] That is, allottees of land distributed _viritim_. [1092] Inscription, Dessau 1334, CIL VIII 15454. [1093] Dessau 6790. [1094] [Victor] _de viris illustribus_ 73 § 1, cf § 5. [1095] Cf Appian _civ_ I 29 § 2. [1096] _Bellum Afr_ 32, 35, 56, Dion Cass XLIII 4 § 2. [1097] For details of his life see Mayor on Pliny _epp_ III 11. Cf Ritter and Preller _hist Philos_, Champagny _Les Césars_ IV 1 § 1. [1098] Preserved by Stobaeus _flor_ LVI 18. It is in Greek, the classic language of Philosophy, as the _Meditations_ of Marcus Aurelius, etc. [1099] πόρος, a means of livelihood. [1100] ἢ δημοσίαν ἢ ἰδιωτικήν. [1101] αὐτουργικοὶ καὶ φιλόπονοι ὄντες. [1102] εἴ γε μὴν ἅμα φιλοσοφεῖ τις καὶ γεωργεῖ. [1103] τοῦ καθῆσθαι ἐν πόλει τὸ ζῆν ἐν χωρίῳ. [1104] σύν γε τῷ καλοκαγαθίας μὴ ὀλιγωρεῖν. [1105] These are stock instances of happiness in rustic life. For references see notes in Frazer’s _Pausanias_ VIII 24 § 13, X 24 § 1. [1106] σοφιστάς. [1107] χαλεπώτατον. [1108] He was in command of the fleet at Misenum in 79 AD when the great eruption of Vesuvius took place. He persisted in approaching it, and met his death. The family belonged to the colony of Novum Comum in Transpadane Gaul, now part of Italy. [1109] _NH_ XVIII 1-5. [1110] _NH_ XVIII 7, 18, 20. [1111] _NH_ XVIII 19, 21, 36. [1112] _NH_ XVIII 35. [1113] _NH_ XVIII 27-8. [1114] _NH_ XVIII 32. [1115] _NH_ XVIII 35. [1116] _NH_ VIII 180. In Aelian _var hist_ this is recorded (V 14) as an old rule in Attica. [1117] _NH_ XVIII 36. [1118] _NH_ XIX 60 _octo iugerum operis palari iustum est_ is a good instance. This verb _palare_ = to dig should be added to dictionaries. [1119] _NH_ XVIII 37-8. [1120] _agros ... coemendo colendoque in gloriam._ [1121] So Tiberius in Tac _ann_ III 54. [1122] Tac _hist_ III 8 _Aegyptus, claustra annonae_. [1123] _NH_ XVIII 15 foll. [1124] _ibid_ 17 _nec e latifundiis singulorum contingebat arcentium vicinos_. [1125] _NH_ XVIII 24. [1126] _NH_ XIX 50-1. [1127] _NH_ XVIII 12. [1128] _NH_ XVIII 11, 26. [1129] _NH_ XIV 49, 50. [1130] _NH_ XIV 48. [1131] Such as the _agricola strenuus_ depicted in the letter of Marcus to Fronto (p 29 Naber), who has _omnia ad usum magis quam ad voluptatem_. [1132] _NH_ XVIII 273-4. Aristotle _Politics_ I 11. [1133] _NH_ XVIII 174. [1134] _NH_ XVIII 178 ... _transverso monte_. [1135] _certe sine hoc animali montanae gentes sarculis arant._ [1136] _NH_ XXXIII 26-7. [1137] _aliter apud antiquos singuli Marcipores Luciporesve dominorum gentiles omnem victum in promiscuo habebant._ [1138] _NH_ XVIII 36 _coli rura ab ergastulis pessimum est, et quicquid agitur a desperantibus_. [1139] _NH_ XXXVII 201-3. [1140] _principatum naturae optinet ... viris feminis ducibus militibus servitiis_ ... etc. [1141] _servorum exercitio._ [1142] _NH_ XVIII 11. [1143] _NH_ VIII 180 _tamquam colono suo interempto_. [1144] _NH_ XVIII 167 _coloni vice fungens_. [1145] _NH_ XVIII 38 _praeterquam subole suo colono aut pascendis alioqui colente domino aliquas messis colligere non expedit, si computetur impendium operae_. [1146] In _NH_ XVIII 120 he cites Vergil as giving a piece of advice based on the usage of the Po country. Pliny as a Transpadane may have been prejudiced in Vergil’s favour and possibly jealous of the Spanish Columella. [1147] In _NH_ XVIII 170 he cites Verg _G_ I 53, calling it _oraculum illud_, but with a textual slip. [1148] _NH_ XVIII 70. [1149] The passing mention in _Annals_ XVI 13 of the great mortality among the _servitia_ and _ingenua plebes_ in the plague of 65 AD is a good specimen. The two classes are often thus spoken of together. Cf Sueton _Claud_ 22, _Nero_ 22. [1150] _Annals_ III 54. [1151] This policy bore fruit in the possibility of forming reserves in the next period. See Spart _Severus_ 8 § 5, 23 § 2. [1152] _Annals_ IV 27. [1153] _Annals_ IV 6 _infecunditati terrarum_. [1154] _Annals_ VI 16, 17. Caesar’s law is described as _de modo credendi possidendique intra Italiam_. Nipperdey holds that it cannot be the law of BC 49, but must be an unknown law, not of temporary effect. See his note. [1155] Nipperdey’s restoration of this sentence with the help of Suet _Tib_ 48 seems to me quite certain. [1156] _si debitor populo in duplum praediis cavisset._ The precedent of Augustus is mentioned in Sueton _Aug_ 41. [1157] See Cicero _in Catil_ II § 18. [1158] See the case of Sittius in Cic _pro Sulla_ §§ 56-9. Such financial opportunities were evidently few in the later Empire. [1159] _trepidique patres_ (_neque enim quisquam tali culpa vacuus_) ... etc. [1160] _Germ_ 26. [1161] See Schweitzer-Sidler’s notes, and cf the remarks of Caesar _BG_ IV 1, VI 22. [1162] See Pliny _NH_ XVIII 259 and Conington’s notes on Verg _G_ I 71-83. Varro I 44 § 3. [1163] _Germ_ 24. [1164] _servos condicionis huius per commercia tradunt, ut se quoque pudore victoriae exsolvant._ [1165] _Germ_ 25 _frumenti modum dominus aut pecoris aut vestis ut colono iniungit, et servus hactenus paret_. The _colonus_ here is clearly a tenant, his German analogue a serf. [1166] _Agricola_ 28. [1167] _per commercia venumdatos et in nostram usque ripam mutatione ementium adductos._ [1168] CIL VIII 18587, Ephem epigr VII 788, where it is annotated by Mommsen and others. [1169] Mentioned in two routes of the _Itinerarium Antoninum_. [1170] Cf Gaius II 7, 21, and below, note on p 351. [1171] Cf Digest VIII 6 § 7, XLIII 20 §§ 2, 5. [1172] See Marquardt _Stvw_ 1, index under _Lamasba_. [1173] Were they perhaps _veterani_? That there were a number of these settled in Africa is attested by Cod Th XI 1 § 28 (400), cf XII 1 § 45 (358). [1174] Written 97 AD, under Nerva. [1175] _de aquis_ 75. Formerly this offence was punished by confiscating the land so watered, _ibid_ 97. [1176] _de aquis_ 6. [1177] _de aquis_ 9. [1178] _de aquis_ 107-10. But according to Digest XLIII 20 § 1³⁹⁻⁴³ (Ulpian) the grant was sometimes not _personis_ but _praediis_, and so perpetual. [1179] _de aquis_ 105, 116-8. [1180] _de aquis_ 120, 124-8. [1181] _impotentia possessorum._ [1182] _holitores_ as in Horace _epist_ I 18 36. Later called _hortulani_ as in Apuleius _metam_ IX 31-2, 39-42. Girard, _textes_ part III ch 4 § 1 e, gives an interesting case of a _colonus hortorum olitoriorum_ between Rome and Ostia, belonging to a _collegium_. The man is probably a freedman. [1183] _de aquis_ 112-5. [1184] _de aquis_ 11, cf also 92. [1185] Wilmanns _exempla_ 2844-8. [1186] _Hermes_ XIX pp 393-416. [1187] Plin _epist_ VII 18. [1188] Mommsen _op cit_ p 410. See index under _instrumentum_. [1189] Whether we have in Columella a direct reference to this method is a question I have discussed in the chapter on that author. However answered, it does not affect the present passage. See the chapter on the African inscriptions. [1190] See the case cited in the chapter on Pliny the younger. [1191] By H Blümner in Müller’s _Handbuch_ ed 3, IV ii 2 p 544. [1192] Mommsen _op cit_ p 416. See the chapter on evidence from the Digest. [1193] Mommsen _op cit_ p 412. [1194] Digest XXXIII 7 § 20¹ _non fide dominica sed mercede_. _ibid_ § 12³ _qui quasi colonus in agro erat_. [1195] Dig XXXIII 7 § 20³ _praedia ut instructa sunt cum dotibus et reliquis colonorum et vilicorum et mancipiis et pecore omni legavit et peculiis et cum actore_. Cf also XL 7 § 40⁵. [1196] Dig XXXIII 7 § 20⁴. [1197] But that _uxor_ was sometimes loosely used of a slave’s _contubernalis_ is true. Wallon II 207, cf Paulus _Sent_ III 6 §§ 38, 40, Dig XXXIII 7 § 12⁷,³³. [1198] Mommsen _op cit_ p 409. [1199] Columella I 9 § 4. [1200] Plut _de defectu oraculorum_ 8. [1201] oratio VII, _Euboicus seu venator_. [1202] A contemporary of the younger Pliny, flourished about 100 AD. [1203] I think Nero is meant here. [1204] Mahaffy, _Silver Age_ p 329, thinks Carystos is meant, though it might be Chalcis. [1205] ἀφορμῆς. This passage seems openly to recognize the ruinous competition of slave labour under capitalists, which the single artisan was unable to face. The admission is so far as I know very rare in ancient writers. That Dion’s mind was greatly exercised on the subject of slavery in general, is shewn by Orations X, XIV, XV, and many scattered references elsewhere. [1206] See the chapter on Musonius. [1207] As in Archbishop Trench’s charming _Lectures on Plutarch_ pp 10, 77 foll. [1208] Matt 21 §§ 28-30. I cannot feel sure of this general inference. [1209] Matt 21 §§ 33-41, Mar 12 §§ 1-9, Luk 20 §§ 9-16. [1210] I Cor 9 §§ 7-10, I Tim 5 § 18, II Tim 2 § 6. [1211] Luk 12 §§ 16-9, etc. [1212] οἰκονόμος, Luk 12 §§ 42-8, 16 §§ 1-12, I Cor 4 § 2. [1213] [Aristotle] _Econ_ 1 5 § 3 δούλῳ δὲ μισθὸς τροφή. [1214] James 5 § 4. [1215] Rom 4 § 4. [1216] Matt 20 §§ 1-16. Abp Trench, _Notes on the Parables_, has cleared away a mass of perverse interpretations. [1217] Matt 6 § 12, Luk 7 § 41, 16 § 5. [1218] Matt 25 §§ 14-30, Luk 19 §§ 12-26. [1219] Acts 1 § 18, 4 §§ 34-7. [1220] Often referred to. See Friedländer’s index under _Nomentanus_, and cf VIII 61, IX 18, 97. [1221] I 55, X 48. [1222] III 47 etc. Cf VII 31, XII 72. [1223] II 11 _nihil colonus vilicusque decoxit_. This may imply that the _vilicus_ was a _servus quasi colonus_ liable to a rent and in arrears. See notes pp 299, 311. But I do not venture to draw this inference. [1224] VII 31. [1225] X 87. Cf Juv IV 25-6, Digest XXXII § 99, XXXIII 7 § 12¹²,¹³, etc. [1226] XII 59. [1227] IV 66. [1228] VI 73, X 92. [1229] IX 2 _haud sua desertus rura sodalis arat_. [1230] XII 57. [1231] V 35, X 14, etc. [1232] Plin _NH_ XVIII § 35. [1233] IX 35. [1234] See Juv XIV 267-302 on the risks faced by speculators in sea-borne commerce. [1235] III 58. [1236] III 47. [1237] _dona matrum_ ‘presents from their mothers.’ Eggs, I think. Cf VII 31 and Juv XI 70-1. The conjecture _ova matrum_ (Paley) is good. [1238] The story of the Usipian deserters who found their way back into Roman hands by way of the slave-market is a curious episode of 83 AD. Tac _Agr_ 28. See the chapter on Tacitus. [1239] VII 80. [1240] X 30, of a charming seaside _villa_ at Formiae. _o ianitores vilicique felices, dominis parantur ista, serviunt vobis._ In Dig XXXIII 7 § 15² we hear of _mulier villae custos perpetua_. [1241] The note of Mommsen, _Hermes_ XIX 412, deals with the case of _servi quasi coloni_ farming parcels of land, recognized in the writings of jurists. It seems that they farmed either at their own risk or for owner’s account [_fide dominica_]. In the former case they could have a tenant’s agreement like the free _coloni_. In the latter they were only _vilici_ and therefore part of the _instrumentum_. Here I think we may see beginnings of the unfree colonate. But Mommsen does not touch the point of manumission. It seems to me that an agreement with a slave must at first have been revocable at the pleasure of the _dominus_, and its growth into a binding lease was probably connected in many instances with manumission. [1242] I 55 _hoc petit, esse sui nec magni ruris arator, sordidaque in parvis otia rebus amat_. And often. [1243] VII 36, XI 34. [1244] I 85, X 85. Cf Pliny _epist_ VIII 17. [1245] X 61, XI 48. The title _de sepulchro violato_, Dig XLVII 12, will illustrate this. [1246] The form HNS (_heredem non sequitur_) is common in sepulchral inscriptions. [1247] X 92. [1248] Juv XIV 161-71. [1249] XI 86-9. [1250] XIV 179-81. [1251] XIV 159-63. [1252] II 73-4. [1253] XIV 70-2. [1254] VIII 245 foll. For the error in this tradition see Madvig, _kleine philologische Schriften_ No 10. [1255] III 223-9. [1256] VI 287-95, cf XI 77-131. [1257] XVI 32-4. See Hardy on Plin _epist_ X 86 B, Shuckburgh on Sueton _Aug_ 27, Tac _hist_ III 24 _vos, nisi vincitis, pagani_. This use is common in the Digest. [1258] VI 1-18, XV 147-58. [1259] X 356-66. [1260] VII 188-9, IX 54-5, etc. [1261] IX 59-62. [1262] VII 188-9, case of Quintilian. [1263] XIV 86-95, 140 foll, 274-5. Cf X 225-6 etc. [1264] XIV 140-55, XVI 36-9. Cf Seneca _epist_ 90 § 39. [1265] XI 151 foll. [1266] VI 149-52, IX 59-62. [1267] I 107-8. [1268] X 356. [1269] III 223-9, _bidentis amans_. [1270] Mart XIV 49 _exercet melius vinea fossa viros_. [1271] See his use of _ingenuus_ = not fit for hard work, III 46, X 47, following Ovid, and cf the lines to a slave IX 92. [1272] Juv XI 77-81. [1273] See _epist_ IV 10, VII 16, 32, VIII 16. [1274] Cf Martial I 101, VI 29. [1275] An important limitation, on which see Wallon III 55. [1276] VII 11, 14. [1277] VI 3. [1278] VI 19. [1279] _si paenitet te Italicorum praediorum._ [1280] III 19. [1281] _sub eodem procuratore ac paene isdem actoribus habere._ The _actores_ seem to be = _vilici_, under the newer name. _procurator_ a much more important person. See _paneg_ 36 for the two as grades in the imperial private service. Cf chapter on Columella p 264. [1282] _atriensium, topiariorum, fabrorum, atque etiam venatorii instrumenti._ [1283] _sed haec felicitas terrae inbecillis cultoribus fatigatur._ No doubt lack of sufficient capital is meant. [1284] See Digest XX 2 §§ 4, 7, for _pignora_ on farms. [1285] _reliqua colonorum._ [1286] _sunt ergo instruendi eo pluris quod frugi mancipiis: nam nec ipse usquam vinctos habeo nec ibi quisquam._ I take _instruendi_ as referring to _agri_ just above. The slaves are a normal part of _instrumentum fundi_. [1287] _hac paenuria colonorum._ Not the tenants’ poverty. Cf VII 30 § 3. [1288] _sum quidem prope totus in praediis._ [1289] Daubeny, _Lectures_ p 147, regards this great variation as normal in modern experience, and vineyards as the least lucrative kind of husbandry. [1290] VIII 15, IX 28, IV 6, X 8 § 5. [1291] II 4 § 3. [1292] _querellae rusticorum_, V 14 § 8, VII 30 § 3, IX 36 § 6. [1293] _remissiones_, IX 37 § 2, X 8 § 5. [1294] As de Coulanges remarks pp 17-8, Pliny does not propose to get rid of them, but to keep them as partiary tenants. They would be in his debt. He uses the expression _aeris alieni_ IX 37 § 2. He would have to find _instrumentum_ for them. [1295] IX 20 § 2. [1296] IX 16. [1297] IX 20 § 2 _obrepere urbanis qui nunc rusticis praesunt_. [1298] IX 37. [1299] _necessitas locandorum praediorum plures annos ordinatura._ [1300] _priore lustro._ The _lustrum_ or _quinquennium_ was the common term of leases, and recognized in law books. Cf Digest XII 1 § 4¹, XIX 2 § 24, etc. [1301] _ut qui iam putent se non sibi parcere._ [1302] _si non nummo sed partibus locem, ac deinde ex meis aliquos operis exactores custodes fructibus ponam._ His new tenants would be _coloni partiarii_. [1303] VIII 2. [1304] V 6 § 12. [1305] VIII 17. [1306] VI 25. [1307] _interceptusne sit a suis an cum suis dubium._ [1308] Cf Juvenal X 19-22. [1309] Fronto, when appointed to govern Asia, one of the most peaceful Provinces, at once looked out for a military officer to deal with _latrones_. Fronto p 169 Naber. [1310] Paul _Ephes_ 6 §§ 5 foll, _Coloss_ 3 §§ 22 foll, I Pet 2 §§ 18 foll. [1311] X 29, 30, with Hardy’s notes. [1312] The first reference to a practice that was common later. [1313] _cum haberent condicionis suae conscientiam._ [1314] On the other hand we hear of free citizens trying to shirk army service earlier than this. Cf Sueton _Aug_ 24, _Tib_ 8. [1315] Capitolinus _Marcus_ 21 §§ 6, 7. [1316] VII 18. [1317] _actori publico mancipavi._ See chapter on the _alimenta_ of Trajan’s time. References to municipal benefactions are very numerous in the Digest. [1318] As we have seen above, the tenant _coloni_ employed slave labour. Whether they worked with their own hands, or confined themselves to direction, probably varied in various cases. [1319] Sueton _Julius_ 26, 28. [1320] _Aug_ 21 _sub lege ... ne in vicina regione servirent neve intra tricesimum annum liberarentur_. See Shuckburgh’s note. [1321] _Aug_ 32, _Tiber_ 8. [1322] _Aug_ 16. [1323] _Aug_ 24. [1324] _Aug_ 42 _quod earum [frumentationum] fiducia cultura agrorum cessaret_. [1325] _Aug_ 41 _usum eius (pecuniae) gratuitum iis qui cavere in duplum possent_. [1326] _Claud_ 25. [1327] _Nero_ 31. [1328] _Vesp_ 1. [1329] _mancipem operarum quae ex Umbria in Sabinos ad culturam agrorum quotannis commeare soleant._ [1330] _Vesp_ 4 _ad mangonicos quaestus_. Hence his nickname _mulio_, for which as a sign of indigence cf Gellius XV 4. [1331] _Domit_ 7, 9. See p 272. [1332] Fronto p 144 Naber, cf Seneca _epist_ 44 § 3. [1333] Sueton _fragm_ p 24 Reifferscheid, Gellius III 3. [1334] Gellius V 3. [1335] Gellius II 18. [1336] Madaura was in the Numidian part of the Province, near the Gaetulian border. See the _Apologia_ 24. Oea, referred to below, was in the eastern strip, on the coast. [1337] Juvenal VII 148-9 _nutricula causidicorum Africa_. [1338] F Norden _Apuleius von Madaura und das Römische Privatrecht_ (Teubner 1912). [1339] _Metamorphoses_ VIII 24. See Norden’s remarks pp 83-4. [1340] See for instance _Metam_ IV 9, VI 31, VII 4, 9. [1341] _Metam_ IX 39-42. [1342] It seems certain that the convenience of humble rustics was little regarded by the upper classes. Even Marcus Aurelius (in Fronto p 35 Naber) confesses to the reckless scattering of a flock of sheep and to having been taken for a mounted brigand. [1343] _Metam_ IX 35-8. This is a case of _periculum mortis ab hominis potentis crudelitate aut odio_, referred to Digest XXXIX 6 § 3 [Paulus] as a risk like that of war or brigandage. [1344] _cuncta facile faciens in civitate._ [1345] Norden pp 161-3. [1346] _cum alioquin pauperes etiam liberali legum praesidio de insolentia locupletium consueverint vindicari._ [1347] Fierce dogs seem to have been a marked feature of country life. See VIII 17, IX 2. [1348] _hortulanus_, see IV 3, IX 31-2, 39-42. [1349] See V 17, VII 15, VIII 17, 29, 31. Cf Norden pp 88-9. [1350] IX 32. Cf the case of small farmers in Africa, _Apol_ 17, 23. [1351] See IV 30, VIII 26. Cf Norden p 89, and pp 84-5 on metaphorical use of the legal term _postliminium_, which occurs also in Rutilius _de reditu_ I 214. [1352] Norden pp 26-7. [1353] _Apologia_ 17. [1354] _an ipse mutuarias operas cum vicinis tuis cambies._ [1355] Because of the strict rules of the laws passed to check manumission. Gaius I §§ 42-7. Norden p 86. [1356] _Apol_ 23. [1357] _triduo exarabas_, to mark the smallness of the _agellus_. [1358] _Apol_ 93. [1359] _Apol_ 47 XV _liberi homines populus est, totidem servi familia, totidem vincti ergastulum_. See Norden p 87. _ergastulum_ = the inmates of a lock-up, regarded as a body. See quotations from Columella p 263 and Pliny p 285, Mayor on Juvenal XIV 24, and cf Lucan II 95. So _operae_ is used = ‘hands.’ [1360] _viliconum_, _Apol_ 87. Cf _Metam_ VIII 22. [1361] Norden p 81. [1362] _Metam_ IX 12. [1363] Herodian II 4 § 6. [1364] δεσπότης. [1365] Vopisc _Aurel_ 48 § 2. [1366] Vopisc _Probus_ 16 § 6. [1367] Trebell _Claud_ 9 §§ 4, 5. _Scythicis_ is an emendation. _senibus_ MSS. [1368] _familias captivas._ [1369] Vopisc _Aurel_ 39 § 7. [1370] Lamprid _Alex_ 55 §§ 2, 3, cf Trebell _Gallien_ 9 § 5. [1371] Vopisc _Probus_ 18 §§ 1, 2. See Zosimus I 71 and No V of the _Panegyrici_ cap 18 for other versions, in which the raiders are called Franks. [1372] Even the extreme license of the soldiery, in deposing and murdering their own nominee, occurs repeatedly, and was no doubt one of the chief evils that prompted the reforms of Diocletian. [1373] O Seeck, _Untergang der antiken Welt_ book II ch 6. [1374] See index under the word. [1375] See chapter on evidence of the Digest. [1376] See chapter on the African inscriptions. [1377] This matter is ably treated at length by Seeck _op cit_ vol I pp 578-83. That they were distinct from _coloni_ and _servi_ is clear from the later constitutions in Cod Theod V 17, 18 (9, 10), XII 19, and Cod Just XI 48 § 13. [1378] We shall find some reference to them later in the Codes. [1379] Herodian VII 4 §§ 3-6. [1380] τοὺς ἐκ τῶν ἀγρῶν οἰκέτας. [1381] πεισθέντες κελεύουσι τοῖς δεσπόταις. [1382] φύσει γὰρ πολυάνθρωπος οὖσα ἡ Λιβύη πολλοὺς εἶχε τοὺς τὴν γῆν γεωργοῦντας. [1383] ὑπερμαχόμενοι τῶν δεσποτῶν. [1384] Capitolinus _Maximin_ 13 § 4, 14 § 1. [1385] _per rusticanam plebem deinde et quosdam milites interemptus est._ [1386] Frontin gromat p 53. [1387] _non exiguum populum plebeium._ [1388] _legere tironem ex vico._ [1389] This evidence has come to hand since Heisterbergk wrote (1876) _Die Entstehung des Colonats_. [1390] _op cit_ pp 116-8. [1391] Dion Cass _epit_ LXXVI 10. For this story Dion is a contemporary witness. [1392] The special treatises on these documents are fully mentioned in Girard’s _Textes de droit Romain_, ed 4, 1913. An essay on the _Colons du saltus Burunitanus_ in Esmein’s _Mélanges_ (1886) is still of great value. [1393] Text in Girard’s _Textes de droit Romain_ part III chapter 6. [1394] We seem to have the names of two former owners, Varianus and Mancia. For the retention of names of former owners see Dittenberger in _Orientis Graeci inscriptiones selectae_ No 669 note 18. Rostowzew _Gesch des Röm colonates_ ch 4 rejects this view and makes the _lex Manciana_ an imperial law. [1395] Pliny _epist_ III 19 § 7. Digest XIX 2 § 19², XXXII § 91¹, XXXIII 7 _passim_. [1396] Dig XIX 2 § 3, and Monro’s note. [1397] So Cuq, Seeck, Schulten, rightly I think. But in practice I believe the chance seldom occurred. [1398] Text in Girard, part I chapter 4 § 10. [1399] This significant hint seems to have been almost normal in such petitions. A good instance is the petition of Scaptoparene (see index, _Inscriptions_). [1400] It is perhaps worth noting that under Commodus the transport of corn from Africa was specially provided for by the creation of a _classis Africana_ for that purpose. See Lamprid _Commodus_ 17 §§ 7, 8. [1401] De Coulanges pp 10 foll deals with this point at length, but I think he pushes his conclusions too far. [1402] Cf the Aragueni (see index, _Inscriptions_) παροίκων καὶ γεωργῶν τῶν ὑμετέρων. [1403] Dig I 19 § 3¹ is of a later date, but refers to a protective rescript of Antoninus Pius. Cf XLIX 14 § 47¹, L 6 § 6¹¹. See Schulten in _Hermes_ XLI pp 11-16. [1404] CIL VIII 14428. [1405] _[domum rev]ertamur ubi libere morari possimus._ [1406] Seneca _ad Helviam_ 7 § 7 _ubicumque vicit Romanus habitat_. [1407] Text in Girard, part III chapter 6. [1408] From comparing the remains of the next inscription (5) it appears that the emperor is Hadrian. [1409] Cf _agrum rudem provincialem_ in Hyginus, Gromat I 203. In the later empire we find legislation to promote such cultivation. See cod Th V 11 § 8 (365 AD), § 12 (388-392), 14 § 30 (386). [1410] Dig XLI 3 § 33¹. Of course the _dominus_ could possess _per colonum_. See Buckland, _Elementary Principles_ § 38 p 77. [1411] _quae venibunt a possessoribus._ [1412] For _aridi fructus_ cf Digest XLIX 14 § 50. [1413] _in cuius conductione agrum occupaverit._ [1414] _rationi_ (_bus fisci_) gives the sense. But _rationi_ simply may be correct, cf Digest II 14 § 42, etc. [1415] Girard cites Rostowzew’s opinion that the right to occupy abandoned land as well as old wastes was an extension of the _lex Manciana_ by the _lex Hadriana_. [1416] See Dig XIX 2 §§ 15³, 24², 25³, 51ᵖʳ, 54¹. [1417] Later legislation to prevent this neglect of poorer land. Cod Th V 14 § 34 (394 AD), X 3 § 4 (383), XI 1 § 4 (337), etc. [1418] Prof Buckland writes to me that he believes these squatters were to be owners, not _coloni_, owners in the only sense possible in non-Italic soil, paying _tributum_. The words _frui possidere_ used to describe their right are the technical words for provincial ownership. Cf Gaius II 7. [1419] In _Hermes_ XXIX pp 215, 224. [1420] Girard, part III chapter 6. [1421] _lege Manciana condicione saltus Neroniani vicini nobis._ [1422] It is tempting to identify these with the six mentioned in Nos (2) and (4) above. [1423] For the vast extent of imperial estates, particularly in Africa, see Hirschfeld, _der Grundbesitz der Römischen Kaiser_, in his _Kleine Schriften_. [1424] De Coulanges seems hardly to recognize how small was the amount of _operae_, a few days in the year. But in his tenth chapter he shews how vastly the system was extended (so many days a week) in the early Middle Age. [1425] Mommsen in _Hermes_ XV pp 391-6. [1426] Such as the _lex coloniae Genetivae Iuliae_ of 44 BC, and the _leges_ of Salpensa and Malaca of 81-4 AD. Girard, and Bruns’ _Fontes_. [1427] Esmein p 309 well refers to the passages in Lachmann’s _Feldmesser_, Frontinus p 53 and Siculus Flaccus p 164. Cf Hirschfeld l.c. p 558. [1428] Colum I 6 §§ 7, 8. [1429] Colum I 7. [1430] _conductor_ and _coloni_ are both bound by the statute for the _fundus_ or _saltus_. In theory both are tenants of the emperor, in practice the _conductor_ has the upper hand, as Cuq points out. [1431] Compare Dig XIX 2 § 15⁴ with § 25⁶. [1432] _quasi societatis iure._ Of course not a real _socius_. See Index, _colonia partiaria_, and Vinogradoff, _Growth of the Manor_ note 91 on p 109. [1433] See Dig I 19 § 3¹, an opinion of Callistratus, a jurist of the time of Severus. That in some sense or other the _coloni_ were tenants of the emperor seems certain. See CIL VIII 8425 (Pertinax), 8426 (Caracalla), also 8702, 8777. And Esmein pp 313-5. [1434] This becomes an important subject of legislation in the Theodosian code. See Cod Th V 11 § 8, 14 § 30. [1435] See de Coulanges pp 140-4, where this view is more strongly expressed. [1436] _Die Entstehung des Colonats_ pp 70 foll, citing especially Frontinus Gromat I p 35 and Columella III 3 § 11. [1437] This is very nearly the view of Wallon III 264 ‘le Colonat à l’origine ne fut pas un droit mais un fait.’ Ib 266. [1438] I have made some reference to it below in the chapter on the _Digest_. [1439] This is fully treated by Seeck, bk III c 5. [1440] In the Ain el Djemala inscription we have them used indifferently. It is not clear that the usage in various provinces was identical. See Vinogradoff _Growth of the Manor_ pp 69, 70. [1441] Given in a long note, vol I pp 578-83. [1442] Marcian in Dig XXX § 112ᵖʳ. Cf L 15 § 4⁸ (Title _de censibus_) _si quis inquilinum vel colonum non fuerit professus_ etc, where the mention of _colonum_ is suspected of interpolation by Seeck. [1443] Dig XXX § 112ᵖʳ _si quis inquilinos sine praediis quibus adhaerent legaverit, inutile est legatum_ (Marcian). Esmein p 313 takes them to be really slaves, but I cannot follow him. [1444] This conclusion, I am pleased to find, had been forestalled by Esmein p 307. [1445] _Le Colonat Romain_ pp 125, 132. [1446] In fact, as we say, _edited_. [1447] Of this Title there is a useful little edition by the late C H Monro. [1448] XIX 2 § 15², 25⁶, also § 15¹,⁸. [1449] XIX 2 § 15²,⁵. [1450] XIX 2 §§ 15³, 24², 25³, 51ᵖʳ, 54¹. [1451] XVII 2 § 46, XLIV 7 § 34², XLVII 2 § 68⁵. [1452] XIX 2 § 54ᵖʳ, XX 6 § 14, etc. [1453] XX 1 § 21ᵖʳ, XLIII 32, 33, XLVII 2 § 62³. [1454] XIX 2 §§ 9²,³, 23, 51ᵖʳ, XLV 1 § 89. [1455] XIX 2 § 52, cf XLIX 14 § 50. [1456] XIX 2 § 25⁶ (Gaius?). [1457] IX 2 § 27¹⁴, XLVII 2 § 83¹, § 10 § 5⁴. Compare also XIX 2 § 60⁵, XLVII 2 § 52⁸. I cannot deal with the difficult legal questions involved here. See Buckland’s _Elementary principles_ § 135. [1458] XIX 2 §§ 15⁸, 24⁴, 25¹, XXXIII 4 § 1¹⁵. [1459] VII 8 §§ 10⁴, 11. Having nothing to do with the _fructus_, the usuary cannot interfere with the _colonus_. [1460] XIX 2 § 54¹. [1461] XIX 2 §§ 13¹¹, 14. The normal term of a lease was 5 years (_lustrum, quinquennium_). [1462] XIX 2 § 24¹, XLI 2 § 30⁶, XLIII 16 § 20. So in law of 224 AD, cod Iust IV 65 § 6. [1463] XII 2 § 28⁶. [1464] XIX 2 § 25³, XL 7 § 40⁵. Compare the language of XXXIV 3 § 16 with § 18. [1465] XIX 2 §§ 3, 54². [1466] XIX 2 § 19², XXXII §§ 91¹, 93², 101¹, XXXIII 7 _passim_, esp § 4. For the _vilicus_, XXXIII 7 §§ 18⁴, 20¹. A woman caretaker, _ibid_ § 15². [1467] XXXIII 7 § 24. [1468] XIX 2 §§ 19³, 25⁶. [1469] XXXIII 7 §§ 18⁴, 20¹, XLVII 2 § 26¹. I note that de Coulanges p 14 holds that the contract rested solely on the basis of a fixed money rent, citing (p 12) Gaius III 142, Dig XIX 2 § 2ᵖʳ (Gaius). But I am not satisfied that cases of rent in kind were not subject to legal remedy. See Monro on Dig XIX 2 § 19³, and Pliny _epist_ IX 37 § 3. And Vinogradoff, _Growth of the Manor_ note 91 on p 109. [1470] See XIX 2 § 15. [1471] XIII 7 § 25, XXXI § 86¹. [1472] VII 1 § 41, XXVII 9 § 13ᵖʳ. [1473] VII 1 § 13⁴. [1474] VII 4 §§ 8, 10. [1475] XXXII § 91¹, L 16 § 198. Cf Juvenal I 75, Suet _Aug_ 72, _Gaius_ 37, Palladius I 8, 11, 24, 33. [1476] VII 1 § 13, XII 2 § 28⁶, XIX 2 §§ 25⁵, 29, XLVII 2 §§ 26¹, 62⁸, 7 § 9. [1477] XIX 2 §§ 55¹, 61ᵖʳ. [1478] XLIII 24 § 13⁶. [1479] XXXIX 3 §§ 4²,³, 5. [1480] Alternative, XX 1 § 32. [1481] A curious case is the putting in an _imaginarius colonus_ [of course at a high nominal rent] in order to raise the selling price of a farm. XIX 1 § 49 (jurist of 4th cent), earlier in Fr Vat § 13. [1482] See XXXII § 41⁵, XXXIV 4 § 31ᵖʳ. [1483] XXXIII 7 §§ 18⁴, 20¹, XL 7 § 40⁵. [1484] XX 3 § 16, XXXIII 7 § 12³, 8 § 23³. [1485] _servus actor_, his _rationes_, XL 7 § 40ᵖʳ,⁴,⁵. [1486] His _reliqua_, XXXII §§ 91ᵖʳ, 97. [1487] XXXIV 1 § 18³, 3 § 12, XL 7 § 40 _passim_. [1488] XXXII §§ 41², 91ᵖʳ, XXXIII 7 §§ 12³⁸, 20³,⁴, 22¹. These refer to _legata_, in which particular intention could be expressed, cf XXXII § 91¹. [1489] IX 2 § 27⁹,¹¹, XIX 2 § 30⁴. [1490] XXI 1 § 32, XXVIII 5 § 35³, XXXII §§ 60³, 68³, XXXIII 7 § 20. [1491] See above on Martial pp 307-10. [1492] XXXII § 99, XXXIII 7 _passim_, esp § 25¹. Buckland, _Slavery_ p 6. [1493] Alfenus Varus in Dig XV 3 § 16. [1494] Hence the frequent references to _peculia_. See XXXIII 8 _de peculio legato_, where from §§ 6ᵖʳ, 8ᵖʳ, it appears that his _peculium_ might include land and houses. Cf de Coulanges pp 55-6, 66-7, 135-6. [1495] XXXII § 97 etc. [1496] XXXIII 7 § 12³ etc. [1497] VII 7 § 3 _in hominis usu fructu operae sunt et ob operas mercedes_ (Gaius), XII 6 § 55. [1498] VII 1 §§ 25, 26, XIX 2 § 60⁷ (Labeo, time of Augustus, cited by Javolenus). [1499] XL 7 § 14ᵖʳ _mercedem referre pro operis suis_ (Alfenus), cf XLV 3 § 18³. [1500] XXXIII 7 §§ 18⁴, 20¹. _mercede_ or _pensionis certa quantitate_ as opposed to _fide dominica_. [1501] VIII 6 § 20, XLIII 16 § 1²⁰, 24 § 3ᵖʳ. [1502] XLIII 24 § 5¹¹. [1503] XLI 1 § 44. [1504] XLVII 14, cf XLVIII 19 § 16⁷, XLIX 16 § 5². [1505] In XIX 2 § 25⁴ (Gaius?) the tenant is held to blame for wilful damage done by a neighbour with whom he has a quarrel. [1506] XVIII 1 § 35⁸. [1507] XLVII 21 § 2. [1508] XLIII 16, _de vi et de vi armata_. [1509] XLI 3 § 33¹ etc. [1510] XLI 2 §§ 3⁸,¹², 25¹, etc. [1511] VIII 3 _de servitutibus praediorum rusticorum_. Specimens of inscribed notices of servitudes, Girard _textes_ part III ch 3 § 1. [1512] VII 1 § 27³, XIX 2 § 15² (Ulpian). The abuse of the quartering of troops was no new evil in the Provinces. We hear of it from Cicero. In the third century AD we have the notable petitions from Scaptoparene in Thrace (238) text in Mommsen _ges Schr_ II 174-6, and from the Aragueni in Asia Minor (244-7), text in Dittenberger _Or Graec inscr_ No 519. For Italy in 5th century see on Symmachus. [1513] XIX 2 §§ 9³, 15. [1514] XLI 1 § 7¹⁻⁶, etc. [1515] XI 4 § 1¹, cf Paulus _sent_ I 6 _a_ § 5. [1516] Dealt with later in the Codes as a frequent evil. For early medieval laws on the point see de Coulanges p 152. [1517] XLVII 9 §§ 3³, 16, Paulus _sent_ V 3 § 4. [1518] XIII 4 § 3. [1519] Callistratus in L 11 § 2, quoting Plato _rep_ 371 _a-c_. [1520] XLVII 11 § 9. [1521] XLVII 11 § 10, cf cod Th IX 32 § 1, cod Just IX 38. [1522] _agri vectigales_ or (as the title calls them by a later name) _emphyteuticarii_. VI 3 §§ 1, 2, XIX 1 § 13⁶, XLIII 9 § 1, L 16 § 219. Large blocks were also hired by middlemen (_mancipes_) and sublet in parcels to _coloni_, XIX 2 § 53. [1523] VI 3 §§ 1, 3. [1524] L 8 § 2¹. [1525] _subiectis aliorum nominibus._ [1526] XXXIX 4 § 11¹, _auctoritate principali_. [1527] Gaius III 145 concludes that the contract in these leases is one of letting and hiring, not of purchase and sale. That is, it includes everything save the bare _dominium_, notably _possessio_, and, as Prof Buckland points out to me, covenants usual in such cases could be enforced by the _actio ex locato_. [1528] XXXIX 4 § 11⁵. [1529] XLIX 14 § 3⁶. [1530] _principalibus rescriptis._ From the text I infer that these are later than Hadrian. [1531] XXX § 39¹⁰, XIX 2 § 49. [1532] XLIX 14 § 47¹ (Paulus). [1533] XLIII 8 § 2⁴ (Ulpian), a very important passage. [1534] Papirius Justus in L 1 § 38¹, _muneribus fungi sine damno fisci oportere_. [1535] Callistratus in L 6 § 6¹¹, _ut idoniores praediis fiscalibus habeantur_. [1536] References are endless. Most significant is L 4 § 4 (Ulpian) _honores qui indicuntur_. [1537] Title XLIX 14 _de iure fisci_. [1538] II 14 § 42 (Papinian). [1539] XLIX 14 § 3¹⁰. [1540] XLVIII 22 § 1, cf XLIX 14 §§ 47, 50, (Paulus). [1541] That they did sometimes suffer may be inferred from the case of the Aragueni (p 374) who describe themselves as πάροικοι and γεωργοὶ (= _inquilini_ and _coloni_) of the emperor. [1542] L 5 §§ 10, 11, etc. [1543] See Spartian _Hadrian_ 7 § 5, Capitolinus _Anton_ 12 § 3, Spartian _Severus_ 14 § 2. [1544] De Coulanges makes it his main thesis that the later colonate was a creation of custom, at length recognized by law. My conclusions here were reached before reading his fine treatise. [1545] _attributi_ or _contributi_. See Mommsen, _Staatsrecht_ III, _die attribuirten Orte_. [1546] Cf Dig XXXIII 2 § 28 _indictiones temporariae_ [Paulus], XIX 1 § 13⁶ [Ulpian]. [1547] Pliny _paneg_ 29 (of imperial subjects) _nec novis indictionibus pressi ad vetera tributa deficiunt_. [1548] Hence cod Theod has a title _de superindictionibus_. [1549] The rising of the Bagaudae in Gaul, at least partly due to agricultural distress, had been put down by Maximian in 285-6. See Schiller III pp 124-6. [1550] It is true that the _colonus_ was guaranteed against disturbance, but I think de Coulanges pp 114-7, 123 makes too much of this. [1551] There were in the latter half of the third century some signs of the coming reconstruction. But they came to no effect. [1552] Cod Th V 17 (9) § 1 _apud quemcumque colonus iuris alieni fuerit inventus, is non solum, eundem origini suae restituat verum super eodem capitationem temporis agnoscat_ ... etc. Runaway _coloni_ are to be chained like slaves, _iuris alieni_ = the control of someone other than the person harbouring him. The _colonus_ is legally dependent, though nominally free. [1553] See Weber, _Agrargeschichte_ pp 256 foll. [1554] See Seeck II 320 foll, 330 foll. [1555] Cod Just XI 59 § 1, in which Constantine, finding the _civitatum ordines_ unequal to this burden, extends the liability to other landlords also. [1556] See Seeck II 214 foll, 223, 249, IV 88. [1557] Seeck II 249, 284. See Cod Th XI 2 §§ 1-5 (dates 365-389), not in Cod Just. [1558] Heisterbergk p 59 with references. Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 302-5. [1559] The details of this system are fully discussed in Seeck’s great article, _die Schatzungsordnung Diocletians_, in the Ztschr für social und Wirthschaftsgeschichte 1896. [1560] Digest I 5 § 17, Dion Cass LXXVII 9 § 5. Schiller _Geschichte_ I pp 750-1 thinks that military motives had much to do with it, as adding to the citizen troops. What is supposed to be a copy of the edict itself has been found in a papyrus, see Girard, _textes_ part I ch 4 § 12. The text is in the Giessen papyri No 40. It seems certain that the lowest class of _peregrini_ (the _dediticii_) were not included in the grant. [1561] See Seeck II 323. Cf Lactant _mort pers_ 23 § 5, Victor _Caes_ 39 § 31. [1562] Through the _ius commercii_. [1563] Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_, cited above. [1564] A long title in cod Th is devoted to remissions, XI 28, consisting of temporary laws. And these deal chiefly with Italian and African Provinces, notably §§ 7, 12, with Campania. They date from 395 to 436. [1565] In the panegyric (No VIII cap 11) on Constantine we have mention of a reduction of 7000 _capita_ for relief of a district in Gaul. [1566] Cod Th XI 1 § 14. Cf. Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 315-6. [1567] Compare the conduct of the magistrates of Antioch in the evidence of Libanius cited below. [1568] See for instance cod Th XIII 10 § 1. [1569] See below, in section on Salvian. [1570] See Ammianus XIX 11 § 3, Victor _Caesares_ 13 §§ 5, 6. A long title cod Th VIII 5 is devoted to the _cursus_, containing 66 laws from 315 to 407, and other references abound. [1571] Cf cod Th XI 16 § 3 (324), § 4 (328). [1572] Cf Cic II _in Verr_ III § 190, Tac _Agr_ 19. Cf cod Th XI 1 § 22 (386), with Godefroi’s notes, also §§ 11 (365) and 21 (385), XIV 4 § 4 (367). [1573] See the title _de naviculariis_, cod Th XIII 5, including 38 laws. [1574] Cod Th XIV 18 _de mendicantibus non invalidis_. [1575] If I rightly interpret Dig L 5 § 1² (Ulpian) cases had occurred earlier of men liable to office even pretending to be mere _coloni_ in order to evade liability (_ad colonos praediorum se transtulerunt_. See Dirksen under _transferre_). [1576] Very significant is the law cod Th XVI 5 § 48 (410) by which even heretics are held to curial duty. [1577] See Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 315-6, De Coulanges p 119. [1578] See Weber, _Agrargeschichte_ pp 266-7. [1579] Cf cod Th XI 16 _passim_. [1580] A rule of 366, or later according to Mommsen, cod Th XI 1 § 14, cod Just XI 48 § 4. [1581] Cf cod Th XIII 10 § 3, retained in cod Just XI 48 § 2, plainly recognizing this. [1582] See the advantages of the colonate summed up in de Coulanges p 144, and cf _ibid_ p 139. [1583] Lactantius _de mort pers_ 7 § 3. [1584] _enormitate indictionum._ [1585] Cf Augustin _de civ Dei_ X 1 _coloni, qui condicionem debent genitali solo, propter agri culturam sub dominio possessorum_. [1586] Cf cod Th V 17 (9) §§ 1, 2 (332), etc. [1587] Cod Th XI 3 § 2. [1588] The _capitatio_. [1589] Cod Just XI 48 § 7. [1590] _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 313-4. [1591] Rostowzew _Geschichte des Röm Colonates_ pp 381-97 traces the abandonment of the policy of favouring _coloni_, and adoption of reliance on great possessors, as a result of the pressing difficulties of the collection of revenue. [1592] Cod Just XI 50 § 1 (Constantine). [1593] Cod Just XI 50 § 2. [1594] Cod Th XI 1 § 12 (365). [1595] Wallon, _Esclavage_ III 266, 282. [1596] For instance cod Th XI 11 (date somewhere 368-373), IV 13 §§ 2, 3 (321). Also XI 7-10, 16 § 10, etc. [1597] Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 285-308, with an account of local variations. For instance, in Africa and Egypt there was no _capitatio_. [1598] See cod Th VII 13 § 7, 8 (375, 380). Even the imperial estates made liable, ibid § 12 (397). Dill p 196. In 379 Theodosius had to raise recruits from γεωργοί, Libanius XXIV 16. [1599] Cod Th VII 18 § 10, cf VIII 2 § 3 (380). See Seeck II 490-1. [1600] Cod Th VIII 2 § 3. By long use the word had become quite official. Cf _inopes ac vagi_ in Tac _ann_ IV 4, etc. [1601] Cod Just XII 33 § 6. [1602] De Coulanges pp 168-9 points out that in the early Middle Age we find _ingenui_ = _coloni_. [1603] _temonaria functio._ See Dirksen under _temo_. Cod Th XI 16 §§ 14, 15, 18, cf VII 13 § 7, VI 26 § 14. [1604] Wallon III 149, 476. [1605] Cod Th VII 13 § 7, where occur the words _cum corpora postulantur_ opposed to _aurum_. For the money-commutation (_adaeratio_) often accepted from the landlords see Mommsen _Ges Schr_ VI p 254 _Das Röm Militärwesen seit Diocletian_. Also Rostowzew in the _Journal of Roman Studies_ vol VIII on _Synteleia tironon_, and Wagner on Ammianus XIX 11 § 7. [1606] Cf Vegetius _rei milit_ I 7, of the disasters caused by slovenly recruiting, _dum indicti possessoribus tirones per gratiam aut dissimulationem probantium tales sociantur armis quales domini habere fastidiunt_. [1607] Cod Th IV 13 §§ 2, 3, kept with variants in cod Just IV 61 § 5. [1608] Cod Th XI 8. [1609] Cod Th XI 16 § 10, 17 §§ 2-4. [1610] For the special position of imperial senators see Dill pp 126, 166, 196, 218 foll. [1611] Cod Th XI 11, kept with some omissions in cod Just XI 55 § 2. [1612] Cod Th XI 16 § 4, cod Just XI 48 § 1. [1613] Seeck I, chapter on _die Ausrottung der Besten_. [1614] Pliny _NH_ XVIII 296. Palladius VII 2. [1615] _hoc compendio._ Pall. [1616] _Orat_ 50. I take the date given by Förster. [1617] For such properties see cod Th X 3. [1618] φιλανθρωπότατε βασιλεῦ. [1619] § 36 γράμμασι, which I take to be = _indictiones_. [1620] In cod Th the title XI 24 is _de patrociniis vicorum_, and the laws range from 360 to 415. Cod Just XI 54 shews that the evil was still in existence in 468. [1621] _Orat_ 47 §§ 8-10. Zulueta (see below) points out that the protection given by the patrons was exerted quite as much by improper influence on judges as by use of force. [1622] § 6 τοῦτο καὶ λῃστὰς γεωργοὺς ἑποίησε. [1623] § 11 ἀλλὰ καὶ οἷς εἷς ὁ δεσπότης. [1624] §§ 19-21. [1625] § 24 ὦν εἰσιν (οἱ γεωργοί). [1626] §§ 17, 18. [1627] § 34. [1628] §§ 36-8 δὸς δὴ νεῦρα τῷ νόμῳ καὶ ποίησον αὐτὸν ὡς ἀληθῶς νόμον ἀντὶ ψιλῆς προσηγορίας ... etc. [1629] Cod Th XI 24 § 2 (Valens). [1630] Note that the law Cod Th XII 1 § 128, sternly forbidding _militares viri_ to interfere with _curiales_ or to use any violence to leading men in the municipalities, is dated 392 July 31. Also that it is retained in Cod Just X 32 § 42. Zulueta _de patrociniis vicorum_ pp 38-40 concludes that it is uncertain to what emperor Libanius is appealing, and places the date in 386-9 AD. He finds the reference in Cod Th V 17 § 2 (Theodosius), not in XI 24 § 2. [1631] The leading authority on Symmachus is O Seeck. In particular the dating of many of the letters in his great edition (MGH, Berlin 1883) is often helpful. [1632] See _epist_ II 6, 7, 52, IV 5 (4), 18, 21, IX 14, 114 (124), X 2, 21, _relat_ 3 §§ 15-18, 9 § 7, 18, 35, 37. [1633] _epist_ III 55, 82, IV 54, 74, VII 38, 68, _relat_ 18. [1634] _epist_ II 6, III 55, 82, IX 42, VII 68, _relat_ 9, 18, 37. [1635] _epist_ VII 66, IX 10, _relat_ 18. [1636] _epist_ II 55, IV 68. [1637] _epist_ VI 15 (14). [1638] _epist_ VI 15 (14), VII 18, 68. Seeck, V 284, 555. [1639] _epist_ I 5 _ut rus quod solebat alere nunc alatur_. Cf cod Th XI 1 § 4. [1640] _epist_ VI 82 (81). [1641] _nihilque iam colonis superest facultatum quod aut rationi opituletur aut cultui._ [1642] _epist_ VII 56 _cum sit colonus agrorum meorum atque illi debita magis quam precaria cura praestetur_. [1643] _epist_ IX 6. Cf IX 11. [1644] _epist_ IX 47 (50). [1645] _epist_ IX 140 (X 18). [1646] _epist_ VIII 2. Plin _epist_ I 6, V 6 § 46. [1647] Amm Marc XXVIII 4 § 18 _alienis laboribus venaturi_. [1648] _epist_ II 22. [1649] _epist_ V 18. [1650] _epist_ II 52. Cf the cases contemplated in Dig XIX 2 §§ 13⁷, 15². [1651] _epist_ VII 38. [1652] _epist_ IX 45 (48). [1653] _epist_ VI 11. [1654] _epist_ IX 27 (30). [1655] _epist_ VII 66, IX 49 (52). In the law of 414 Cod Th XVI 5 § 54 we have these _conductores privatorum opposed to conductores domus nostrae_ in Africa. See above, chapter on the African inscriptions. [1656] _epist_ VI 12. [1657] In _quality_ the Apulian wheat was thought excellent. Varro _RR_ I 2 § 6. [1658] _epist_ IX 29. [1659] _epist_ VII 126 _res ... non tam reditu ampla quam censu_. [1660] _epist_ IX 11 _sed maior opitulatio ex tui arbitrii favore proveniet, cum causae eius etiam iustitia non desit_. [1661] _epist_ IX 37 (40). [1662] _ut perspiciatur in discretione iudicium._ [1663] _epist_ IX 47 (50). [1664] _epist_ IX 10. [1665] _epist_ VI 59 (58), 65 (64). [1666] _epist_ IV 74. [1667] _epist_ II 7. [1668] _quanto nobis odio provinciarum constat illa securitas._ [1669] _relatio_ 40. [1670] _quod nihil subsidii decreta dudum oppida conferebant._ This seems to imply a previous grant to Tarracina, levied on other towns. Cf _relat_ 37 _decretae provinciae_, referring to supply of Rome. [1671] _Capuana legatio._ Meaning _Campanian_, I take it. [1672] Neratius Cerealis, praef annonae 328, praef urbi 352-3, consul 358. Godefroi’s Prosopographia, Wilmanns inscr 1085, and cod Th XIV 24. The order is given thus, _eum frumenti numerum, quem Cerealis ex multis urbibus Romano populo vindicarat, restitui omnibus_. [1673] _secretum._ [1674] XVI 5 §§ 14, 15. [1675] Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ p 306, keeps the MS reading _capitulis_ here. See his remarks, and for the word _capitulum_ cf cod Th XI 16 § 15 (382) _capituli atque temonis necessitas_, ibid § 14 _capitulariae sive ... temonariae functionis_. [1676] The title cod Th XI 28 is _de indulgentiis debitorum_. [1677] _norat enim hoc facto se aliquid locupletibus additurum, cum constet ubique pauperes inter ipsa indictorum exordia solvere universa sine laxamento conpelli._ We shall return to this point in connexion with Salvian. [1678] XVII 3. [1679] _quicquid in capitatione deesset ex conquisitis se supplere._ _conquisita_ are the sums produced by a _superindictio_ raising the amount to be levied. Cf cod Th XI 1 § 36, and title XI 6 _de superindicto_. [1680] Cf XXX 5 § 6 _provisorum_, cod Th XII 1 § 169 _tuae provisionis ... incrementis_. [1681] _indictionale augmentum._ [1682] _sollemnia ... nedum incrementa._ [1683] XVIII 1. [1684] _quorum patrimonia publicae clades augebant._ [1685] XVIII 2 § 2 and references in Wagner’s edition. Schiller, _Kaiserzeit_ II p 313. [1686] XXIX 5 §§ 10-13. [1687] _messes et condita hostium virtutis nostrorum horrea esse._ [1688] As when in Pannonia (373) they crossed the Danube and _occupatam circa messem agrestem adortae sunt plebem_, XXIX 6 § 6. [1689] XXIX 5 § 13 _in modum urbis exstruxit_. [1690] XXIX 5 § 25 _muro circumdatum valido_. In XXX 10 § 4 we find _Murocincta_ as the name of a _villa_ and _Triturrita_ in Rutilius _de reditu_ I 527, 615. Cf cases in Caesar’s time, _Bell Afr_ 9, 40, 65. [1691] XXVIII 6 § 8. [1692] XXX 2 § 10 _negotiis se ruralibus dedit_. [1693] There was much jealousy on this score, and a powerful reaction, as after the death of Valentinian in 375, but even then the foreign element prevailed. Schiller II 389. [1694] XXXI 4 §§ 4, 5. [1695] _ex ultimis terris tot tirocinia._ Cf XIX 11 § 7. [1696] _et pro militari supplemento, quod provinciatim annuum pendebatur, thesauris accederet auri cumulus magnus._ I hope I am right in referring this to the _temonaria functio_ or obligation of paying the _temo_ = the price of a recruit. Cod Th XI 16 §§ 14, 15. [1697] XXXI 6 § 5. [1698] _dudum a mercatoribus venundati, adiectis plurimis quos primo transgressu necati inedia vino exili vel panis frustris mutavere vilissimis._ [1699] XXXI 10 § 17, _inventute valida nostris tirociniis permiscenda_. [1700] XXVIII 5 § 15 of Theodosius defeating Alamanni, _pluribus caesis, quoscumque cepit ad Italiam iussu principis misit, ubi fertilibus pagis acceptis iam tributarii circumcolunt Padum_. 370 AD. Cf XXXI 9 § 4, 377 AD, and XX 4 § 1, 360 AD. [1701] For instance, _in Rufinum_ I 200-5, _de bello Gildon_ 105-12, _de IV cos Honor_ 412-8. [1702] _in Rufin_ I 380-2. [1703] _in Rufin_ I 189-92. [1704] _metuenda colonis fertilitas._ [1705] _in Eutrop_ I 401-9. [1706] _de bello Gildon_ 49-74. [1707] See Bury, _Later Roman empire_ I 108-9, Seeck, _Untergang_ V 379-80, Dill, _Roman Society_ p 233, Wallon, _Esclavage_ III 276-7. The affair is referred to in cod Th X 10 § 25 (Dec 408). [1708] _de cos Stilichonis_ II 204-7. [1709] _in Eutrop_ II 194-210. [1710] _bene rura Gruthungus excolet et certo disponet sidere vites._ [1711] _quem detinet aequi gloria concessoque cupit vixisse colonus quam dominus rapto._ [1712] _in Eutrop_ I 406 _Teutonicus vomer_. [1713] _de bell Goth_ 450-68. [1714] _non iam dilectus miseri nec falce per agros deposita iaculum vibrans ignobile messor ... sed vera inventus, verus ductor adest et vivida Martis imago._ [1715] Cf Vegetius _rei milit_ I 7, of disasters in recent times, _dum longa pax militem incuriosius legit_. [1716] _in Eutrop_ II 370-5. [1717] _de bell Goth_ 366-72. [1718] _epitoma rei militaris_ I 3. [1719] _rei milit_ I 5, _senos pedes vel certe quinos et denas uncias_ [has not _ad_ fallen out before _senos_?]. In a law of 367, cod Th VII 13 § 3 _in quinque pedibus et septem unciis_. [1720] _tunc._ When? From I 28 it might be inferred that he looks back to the first Punic war. But I do not think so. [1721] _necdum enim civilis pars florentiorem abduxerat iuventutem._ So I 7 _civilia sectantur officia_. [1722] The assertion that _Martius calor_ has not subsided (I 28), accepted by Seeck I 413, seems to me rhetorical bravado. Much more likely is the view (_ib_ 414) that the improved standard of recruits in the fifth century was due to prevalence of barbarians. [1723] Seeck II 88 foll. Hence army service was called _militia armata_. [1724] _mulomed_ I 56 §§ 11-13. [1725] _si saepius et cum moderatione animalia sedeantur._ For _sederi_ cf § 35 _sub honesto sessore_, Spart Hadr 22 § 6, cod Th IX 30 § 3. [1726] _servorum impatientia._ [1727] _neque enim de damno domini cogitant, quod eidem contingere gratulantur._ [1728] Julian _orat_ VII p 232 a-b. [1729] Above, p 393. [1730] _de mortibus persecutorum_ 22-3. [1731] For the _census_ under the new system, first in 297 and then every fifth year, see Seeck II pp 263 foll. It was only concerned with the land and taxation units liable to the levy of _annona_. De Coulanges pp 75-85 urges that the system already described by Ulpian in Dig L 15 §§ 3, 4, is much the same, and points out that monastic records shew it still surviving in the early Middle Age. But practice, rather than principle, is here in question. [1732] _hominum capita._ In most provinces the taxable unit was fixed by taking account of the number of able-bodied on each estate as well as of the acreage. Seeck II 266 foll, also _Schatzung_ pp 285-7. [1733] The urban taxation was conducted in each town by the local _decemprimi_, aldermen, and was quite distinct. [1734] _adscribebantur quae non habebantur_ may mean ‘were put on the record as owning what they did not own.’ [1735] _pecuniae pro capitibus pendebantur._ The _capita_ here seem to have a double sense. [1736] De Coulanges pp 75-6 treats it severely on the score of Christian prejudice. [1737] Sulp Sev _dial_ II 3. [1738] For instance cod Th VII 1 § 12, VIII 5, XI 10, 11. [1739] Cod Th VII 20 § 7. [1740] Sulp Sev _vita S Martini_ 2 § 5, and cf cod Th VII 22, also 1 § 8. See the note of Seeck II 490. [1741] This view has been challenged by Dill, pp 118-9. But cf Sidonius _epist_ V 19, IX 6. [1742] The earlier part of book V of the _de gubernatione Dei_, especially §§ 34-50. The rising of the Bagaudae (286) in Gaul is dealt with §§ 24 foll. See Schiller II pp 124-6. [1743] _dediticios se divitum faciunt et quasi in ius eorum dicionemque trascendunt._ [1744] _addicunt_, a technical law term. [1745] _possesio ... capitatio._ [1746] _pervasio_ = attack, encroachment. Cf cod Th II 4 §§ 5, 6. [1747] _fundos maiorum expetunt et coloni divitum fiunt._ [1748] _iugo se inquilinae abiectionis addicunt._ See cod Th V 18 (10) _de inquilinis et colonis_, cod Just XI 48 § 13. [1749] _fiunt praeiudicio habitationis indigenae._ That is, by prescription they acquire a new _origo_. See cod Th V 17 (9) §§ 1, 2, 18 (10), cod Just XI 64 § 2, 48 § 16. [1750] _extraneos et alienos_; that is, belonging to someone else. [1751] _et miramur si nos barbari capiunt, cum fratres nostros faciamus esse captivos?_ [1752] I think de Coulanges is too severe on the rhetoric of Salvian (pp 141-3). After all, the Codes do not give one a favourable picture of the later colonate, and the Empire did fall in the West. [1753] This arrangement was especially frequent in the East. See on Libanius pp 400-1, and cod Th XI 24 _de patrociniis vicorum_, cf cod Just XI 54. But so far as individuals were concerned it was widespread. [1754] Seeck cites cod Th III 1 § 2 [337], XI 1 § 26 [399], 3 §§ 1-5 [319-391], and for the legal tricks used to defeat the rule XI 3 § 3. [1755] _de gub Dei_ V § 18 _quae enim sunt non modo urbes sed etiam municipia atque vici ubi non quot curiales fuerint tot tyranni sunt?_ [1756] From _adscribere_, to record the liability of the lord, his _coloni_ came to be called _adscripticii_. Weber _Agrargeschichte_ p 258. [1757] Cod Th XI 1 § 26 [399] refers especially to Gaul. He is _servus terrae_ in fact, as Weber _Agrargeschichte_ p 258 remarks. [1758] In Esmein’s _Mélanges_ [1886] there is an excellent essay on some of the letters of Sidonius discussed here, forestalling a number of my conclusions. [1759] See Seeck II 175 foll. [1760] Sidon _epist_ I 10. [1761] See Dill, _Roman Society in the last century of the Western Empire_, p 179. [1762] See _epist_ II 2, 9, 14, IV 24, VIII 4. [1763] _epist_ VII 12 § 3. [1764] _quia sic habenas Galliarum moderarere ut possessor exhaustus tributario iugo relevaretur._ [1765] Instances in _epist_ III 1, VI 10. [1766] _epist_ III 5. [1767] _suffragio vestro._ [1768] _epist_ VI 10. [1769] _domesticis fidei_, already, it seems, a stereotyped phrase. See Ducange. [1770] _debitum glaebae canonem._ [1771] _epist_ VI 12. [1772] See Dill, book IV ch 3. [1773] _aggeres publici_, cf _epist_ II 9 § 2, IV 24 § 2. It is an official expression, used by jurists. [1774] No doubt some were castles, more or less defensible. The _burgus_ of Leontius by the Garonne was such, cf _carm_ XXII 121-5. [1775] _epist_ I 6, VII 15, VIII 8. [1776] _epist_ II 14. [1777] _epist_ IV 9 § 1, VII 14 § 11. _liberti_ mentioned VII 16. See Dill p 178. [1778] _epist_ VIII 4 § 1. [1779] _epist_ II 2. Cf Dill pp 168-72. [1780] In _epist_ III 9 is a curious case of a farmer who owned slaves and in his slack simplicity let them be enticed away to Britain. [1781] Dill p 220, citing _epist_ IV 24. See Esmein pp 377-83 for the legal points of the case. [1782] _centesima_, that is 1% _per mensem_, I suppose. [1783] _epist_ IX 6. See Dill pp 174-5. [1784] _epist_ V 19. [1785] _sub condicione concedo, si stupratorem pro domino iam patronus originali solvas inquilinatu._ [1786] _mox cliens factus e tributario plebeiam potius incipiat habere personam quam colonariam._ [1787] He calls his solution _compositio seu satisfactio_. Esmein pp 364 foll shews that _compositio_ was now a regular expression for the practice of avoiding the strict Roman Law, under barbarian and ecclesiastical influences. [1788] See Index, _inquilini_, and de Coulanges pp 65, 74, 85. [1789] See de Coulanges pp 100-1. [1790] See this question fully discussed by Esmein pp 370-5. Also the doubts of de Coulanges pp 101, 104. [1791] For this point see Seeck, _Schatzungsordnung_ pp 314-5. [1792] Cod Th V 18 [10] _si quis colonus originalis vel inquilinus_ ... etc. And below, _originarius_ [419]. Cod Just XI 48 § 13 _inquilinos colonosve, quorum quantum ad originem pertinet vindicandam indiscreta eademque paene videtur esse condicio, licet sit discrimen in nomine_, ... etc, and § 14 _causam originis et proprietatis_. The limiting word _paene_ may refer to difference in mode of payment of taxes. These laws, retained in cod Just, date from 400. [1793] Seeck just cited. Weber, _Agrargeschichte_ p 257. [1794] E Meyer _Kl Schr_ p 185 takes the words of Aristotle _Pol_ I 2 § 5 ὁ γὰρ βοῦς ἀντ’ οἰκέτου τοῖς πένησίν ἐστιν as proving that even in Ar’s time the small farmer had to do without a slave. I think they prove that if he could not afford a slave he must do with an ox only. For the additional protection of the ox see Index. Cf Maine, _Early Law and Custom_ pp 249-51. [1795] E Meyer _Kl Schriften_ p 179 will only use the word _slaves_ of a part of these, but the distinction does not matter here. [1796] See Dig XXXII § 99 (Paulus), and XXXIII 7 _passim_, especially § 25¹. [1797] That religious scruple was opposed to keeping members of the same race-unit in slavery is most probable. This _trans Tiberim_ rule is known from Gellius XX 1 § 47, referring to debt-slaves. Greeks however, even when abhorring the enslavement of Greek by Greek in principle, did not discontinue the practice. E Meyer _Kl Schr_ p 202 compares the medieval scruple in reference to brother Christians. See also his remarks p 177. For Hebrew law and custom see _Encyclopaedia Biblica_ (1903) vol IV and Hastings’ _Dictionary of the Bible_ (1902) vol IV, articles _Slavery_. [1798] Different also from the position of a food-producer class in a great territorial state, being based on local conditions. [1799] Illustrated with great clearness in the provisions of the Gortyn laws. [1800] Varro _RR_ I 17 § 2 on _obaerarii_ or _obaerati_. [1801] The relative importance of land and the means of cultivation [especially oxen] in early times, the power thus gained by chiefs granting cattle to tenants, and the connexion of these phenomena with legends of debt-slavery, are instructively discussed in Maine’s _Early history of Institutions_, lecture VI. [1802] Mr G G Coulton kindly reminds me of an analogy observable in the history of Art. It is progressive on simple lines up to a certain point. Then it begins to ramify, and differences of taste become more acute. Hence an anarchy of taste, driving men to yearn (like Ruskin, Morris, etc.) for the old simplicity. So the peasant up to a point is useful and noble. But fresh currents of civilization alter his position. Then men yearn for the old simplicity, only defective through being essentially simple. [1803] Mr Zimmern, _The Greek Commonwealth_ pp 265 foll, has some interesting remarks on craftsmen as wage-earners, and points out their preference for serving the state rather than private employers. The latter plan would have put them almost in the position of slaves. [1804] When food was provided, we must reckon it as part of his wage. [1805] A vast number of Greek records of manumission refer to such cases. [1806] See Francotte, _L’Industrie dans la Grèce ancienne_ book II chap 5, _La concurrence servile_. I cannot follow E Meyer _Kl Schr_ pp 198-201. And the oft-cited passage of Timaeus (Athen VI 264 d), where free Phocians object to slaves taking their employment, refers solely to domestic and personal attendance. [1807] Of this there is abundant American evidence from writers on Slavery. The hired slave sometimes got a higher wage than the hired freeman. [1808] See Whitaker’s Almanack, and the exposure of an impudent agency for the purpose in the _Times_ 15 Sept 1914. [1809] Compare Wendell Phillips ‘Before this there had been among us scattered and single abolitionists, earnest and able men; sometimes, like Wythe of Virginia, in high places. The Quakers and Covenanters had never intermitted their testimony against slavery. But Garrison was the first man to begin a _movement_ designed to annihilate slavery.’ Speech at G’s funeral 1879. [1810] Prof Bury, _Idea of Progress_ p 275, points out that Guizot noted that Christianity did not in its early stages aim at any improvement of social conditions. [1811] The conclusions reached in this paragraph are in agreement with E Meyer _Kl Schr_ pp 151-2, 155, 205, 209. But he seems to put the decline of the slave-gang system rather earlier than I venture to do. [1812] We must bear in mind that a tenant was naturally unwilling to work for a margin of profit not to be retained by himself. Hence the tendency to find means of constraining him to do so. [1813] _coloni_ or _quasi coloni_, cf Dig XV 3 § 16, XXXIII 8 § 23³, or XXXIII 7 §§ 12³, 18⁴, 20¹, and numerous other references. [1814] The compulsory tenure of municipal offices is commonly cited as illustrating the pressure even on men of means. It began in the second century. See Dig L 1 § 38⁶, 2 § 1 [Ulpian], 4 § 14⁶ [Callistratus citing Hadrian], and many other passages. Notable is L 4 § 4¹ _honores qui indicuntur_ [Ulpian]. [1815] This topic is the subject of Churchill Babington’s Hulsean dissertation, Cambridge 1846. I learn that a pamphlet by Brecht, _Sklaverei und Christentum_, takes a less favourable view, but have not seen it. The survival of the colonate and its heavy burdens in the early Middle Age are treated by de Coulanges, particularly in connexion with the estates of the Church. [1816] The slow progress of emancipation is referred to by E Meyer _Kl Schr_ p 178, of course from a very different point of view. He mentions that slavery was not completely forbidden in Prussia till 1857, and is against its abolition in German colonies. Seeley in his _Life of Stein_ points out that the armies of Frederic the Great were mainly recruited from serfs. [1817] The Turk and his Rayahs furnishes a very striking illustration. [1818] E Meyer, _Kl Schr_ p 188. [1819] Since writing this section I have found in Prof Bury’s _Idea of Progress_ pp 269-70 a passage which seems to justify the objection here raised, though it occurs in a different connexion. [1820] It is perhaps hardly necessary to refer to the great economic disturbance caused by the Black Death in fourteenth century England. [1821] John Spargo, _Bolshevism, the enemy of political and industrial Democracy_. London, J Murray 1919. I think I may accept the author’s evidence on the points here referred to, confirmed as it is by other observers. See his remarks pp 69, 156, 275, 278, in particular. That the same sharp distinction between peasant and wage-earner is drawn by the Socialists in other countries also, and is to them a stumbling-block, is clearly to be seen in King and Okey’s _Italy today_. See appendix. [1822] A remarkable article in the _Times_ of 10 May 1920 describes the influences tending in the opposite direction in the United States, particularly the workman’s prospect of proprietorship. [1823] For the survival of the colonate in the West see de Coulanges pp 145-86. [1824] See Krumbacher’s history of Byzantine Literature in Iwan Müller’s Handbuch, and Oder’s article in Pauly-Wissowa. [1825] Varro _RR_ I 17 §§ 3, 4. [1826] In the _Journal of Hellenic Studies_ 1910 and 1912. There the views of Zachariä are discussed. [1827] The truth seems to be that serfage had never become so widespread in the East as in the West, as Mr Bouchier, _Syria as a Roman Province_ p 181, points out. [1828] Vol II pp 418-421. [1829] Sir W. Herringham, _A Physician in France_, pp 167-8 on Peasantry as a strength to the State. INDICES _Where the reference is less direct, the figure is given in brackets_ I GENERAL =Agriculture, etc.= Accommodation-labour, mutual between neighbours, 170, 333-4 Accommodation land, 190-1 Aqueducts, 293-6 asses, 107, 330, 334, 400, 422 contempt for, 12, 69, 145-7, 160, 334 Decay of, general, 337, 383, 387, 393 Decay of, in Greece, 11, 96, 104, 127, 129, 132, 300 foll. Decay of, in Italy, 11, 14, 143-4, 147, 154 foll., 163, 174, 209-10, 250-1, 265, 271-2, 281 foll., 288, 299, 358, 365, 404 foll. Delegation of management, 432-3 growth of distaste for, 42, [79], 88, [119], 124, 251, [278], 302 Importance and recognized value of, 3, 5, 6, 8-11, 82, 141, 200, 204-6, 212, 226, [280], 283, 400, 437, 444 improved by knowledge of foreign countries, 179, [251] Industrializing of, 146-7, 150-1, 168-9, 203-4, 445, 447, 452 in Peloponnesus, 30, 49, 50, [69], 82, 118, 120, 122-3, 128-9 in the East, 303-5 Landed peasantry not ‘proletarian’, 457-8 Military point of view, 3, 8-11, 64-5, 74-5, 122, [128], 132, 133, 147, 152, 163, 166, 176, 213-4, 283, 395-7, 438, 440 Moral or civic point of view, 3, 11, 31, 64, 70, 83, 96, 107-8, 124, 133, 135 foll., 166, 213, [277 foll.], 281 foll., 302, 439-40, 445, 458 need of capital, 47, [67], 83, 104, 144, 154, 174, 200-1, 204, [225], 250, 255, 320, 345, 365 problem of food-supply, 3, 9, 14, 15, [19], 29, 30, 47, 48, 62, 66, 77, 81, 87, 92, 96, 118-9, 132, 208, 211, 283, 288, 309, [326], 332, [337], 339, 347, 357-8, 375, 379, 382-4, 387-98, 403, 406-8, 411-2, 416, 427-8, 460-1 Property and proprietary rights, 436 Punic, 151, 164, [168], [179], 203-4, [282], 353 remunerative or not, 14, 41, 83, 107, 111, 154-60, 166, 169, 174, 186, [193], 201, 205, 252-3, [268], [277], 284, 306, 308-10, 318, 320-2, 351, 365, 404-5 Barbarian and Greek, 27, 28, 31-2, 34, 54-5, 78-9, [112], 113, [164] Barbarian lords and Roman subjects, 427 Barbarians and the Roman army, 14, 210, 270, 273, 292, 339, 382, 387, 397, 413-4, 417-8 Barbarians, fertility of, 382 Barbarians, settlement of, within Roman Empire, 337-8, 340, 360, 384, 414-5, 416, 426, 431 Bee-keeping, 184, 228, 230, [266], 309 Beggars, 18, 19, 23, 25, 72, 243, 392 Book-keeping on great estates, 249-50, 258-9, [264], 335, 368 Bucolic poetry, 115-6, 218-20, 280 Capitalism and employment of labour, 2, 36, 48, 55, 57-8, 70-1, 107, 150, 151-2, 156 foll., 173, 220, 254, 302, 441, 443, 454-6 Capitalism, growth of, 13, 25, 33, 36, 47-8, 49, 58, 70, 76, 83, [106], 129, 142-4, 212, 282, 288 foll., 314 Capitalist influence hostile to free peasantry, 151-2, 201, [212], [297] Capitalist profiteers, 403 cases, query, hypothetical?, 264, 304-5 Caste and gild system of later Roman Empire, 210, 212, [376-7], 383, 389-91, 396, 405, 413, 423, 451 Census, the later Imperial, 388, 390, 420-2, 431 Centralization, bureaucratic, 379-80, 381, 384 Cereal crops, 19, 47-8, 81, 104, 107, 111, [118], [121], 154, 174, 249, [253], 266-7, 283-4, 291, 303, 309, 350, 352, 375, 388, 403, 406, 412, [428-9], 461, 463 Charcoal, 42, 64 Charitable institutions, 271, 273, 296, 324 Charity, private, 403 Christianity, influence of, 410-1, 420, 422-3, 426-32, [435], 449 foll. Citizen and alien, 32, 36, 47, 48, 66, 96-7, 301, 314, 329 Citizens as such not producers, 102 Citizens, new, incorporation of, 126-7, 149, 153, 271, 288, 389, [444] Citizenship, 86, 92, 94, 98, 113-4, 120, 301-2, 389, 431, 444 City and country, 9, 13, 24, 31-2, 40, 43-4, 48, 49, 63, 83, 89, 90, 108-9, 115-6, 124-5, 145-6, 153, 184, [200], 217, 222, 235-6, 251, 278-9, 301-2, 306, 308, 332, 400, 409, 429 City and State, 380 Cleruchies, 39, 41-2, 51-2, 81, 83, 105-6, [120] Clients [πελάται, _clientes_], 25, 134, [150], [167], 243, 314, 431, 433 Colonies, 26-7, 51, 67, 72, 76, 83, 87-8, 152, 174, 207, 270, [272], 273-5 Commerce and seafaring, 19, 23, 39, 114, 215, 288, 290, 309, 347, 381, 391, 403, 412 Commerce restricted, 77, 92, 96, [98], 100, 102, [142], [290] Communistic schemes and legends, 41, 45, 89, 92, 120, 218, 232, 236, 248, [459] Confiscation and redistribution, 67, [70], 72, [88], 89, 128, 155-6, 176-7, 178-9, 193, 200, 203, [225], 234, 236, 240 Continuity of occupation, importance of, 207-8, 252-3, 255, 344-5, 347, 355-6, 377, 383-4 Corn-dealers, 81, 403 Corn trade (Euxine), 31, [39], 81, 104-5 Cosmopolitanism, 113-4, [187], 232, 271, [288] Country carts, 39, 400 Country houses, 51, 82, 106, 108-9, 124, 157, [164], 165-6, 201, 224, 235, 246, 310, 312, 366, 427-9 Country life idealized, desire of, 43, [115], 124-5, 200-1, 215, 217, 222, [230], 234-6, 280, [302-3], 417, 429 Craftsman as employer, 2, [48], [51], 172-3, [385], 441, 446 Crops, dealers in, 111, 171, 322, 375 Crops, hanging, sale of, 171, 265, 284, 322 Crops, variety in, movement towards, 203, 266 Cultivation etc. by contract, 140, 166, 171-3, [180], 186, 264-5 Cultivation, intensive, 231, 265, [291] Cultivation, movements to extend or maintain, 126-7, [207-8], 211-2, [272], [301], 337-8, 340, 349-52, 357, [383], 387, 394 Damage, responsibility for, 363, 366, 373-4 Debt, pressure of, 22, 25, 133-4, 144, 155, [209], 321, 430, 436-7 Devastation of farms in war, 31, 38, 40, 43, [84], 104, 118, 133, 136, 139, 144, 410-1, 412 Differentiation of soldier and farmer, 210, 382, 417-8 Digging, 35, 46, 116, 172, 186, 261, 282, 317 Dogs, 23, 331, 372 Domains, imperial, 207, 209, 337, 342-58, 377-8 Domestication of animals, 15, 32, 433-4 Drainage, 366 East and West, 409, 460-4 Education, 68-9, 72-3, 76, 101 Emigration of working farmers (?), 207, 256, [272], 274-5, [293], 348-9 =Estates= abroad, 39, 51-2, 81, 83-4, 106, 207, 214, 248-9, 251, 281-2, [291], 298, [301], 309, 319, 341, 348, 353-4, 405 and boundaries, 17, 108, 174-5, 190, 331 as ‘Peculiars’, 354, 377, 392-3 division of, 22, 190-1, 256 Great, growth of, in Italy, 126, 143-4, 147, 152-3, 154, 165, 201, 203, 205, 248, 251, 256, 263, 281-3, 297, 314, [354] Large and small, 46, 47, 51, 88, 106-7, 119, 125, 129, 138, 141-4, [166], 182, 196, 201, 214, 281-4, 296-7, 334 Letting to tenants, 14, 36, 39, 52, 82-3, 84, 106, 111, [125], 157-8, 160-1, 167, 177, 183, 191, 194-5, 198, 201-2, 208, 211, 216, 224, 233-5, 246-7, 252-7, 264, 277, 280, 297-9, 303, 307-8, 320-1, 325, 355, 358-9, 362 foll., 367-8, 376, 390, 433, 450, 463 Management by owner, 13, 57-8, 82, 106, [146], 167, 170-1, 224, [250-1], 284, [319], 325 Management by owner’s steward, 13, [33], 36, 51, 57-60, 88, 106, 116, 124, 140, 153, 158-60, 168, 186, 194, 224, 251-3, 256 foll., 297 foll., 304, 321, 325, 335, 343, 353, 367-8, 461 Mixed, 82, [83], 106, 108, [155], 169, [201], 310 of _collegia_, 295 retain names of former owners, 343 Small, profits on, 160, 184, 230, 284, 306 Suburban, 109, 128, 164, 248, 294-5, 306, 312 Eugenics, 72-3, [90], 93 Evidence, lack of, from working farmer or labourer, 4, 374, [429-30], 454 Experiments, 258 Fallows and rotation of crops, 291 Familiar details, tendency of writers to omit, 16, 44, 136, 140, 213-4, 379 Farm-equipment found by landlord, 216, 255, 297-9, 320-1, 344-5, 364-5, 367 Farmer and politics, 11, 12, 36, 40-4, 49, 70, 89, 90, 302 Farmer as man of substance, 39-40, 41, 46, 104 Farmer-heroes, Roman, 135 foll., 145-6, 197, 213, 232, 281, 313, 328, 415, 418, 445 Farmer not a soldier, 74, [98], 101, 210, 313, [316], 396-8, 417 Farmer rather a seller than a buyer, 42, 167, [185] Farmers’ capital mostly fixed, 46, 47, 104, [193] Farmers required to be resident, 204-5, 208, 297, 383-4 Farmers resident in the city, 33, 51, 82 Farm-hands as oarsmen, 90, 95, 183 Farming, fancy, 109, 179, 282, 308-10 Farming, high or scientific, 98-9, 122, 179, [181], 201, 286 Farming means unremitting attention and toil, 22, 23, [152], 159-60, 166, [197], 218, 222, 251, 321, 451 Farm slaves barbarians, 63, 92, 94, 124, [292], [325], 337 Farm tenants and their burdens, 14, [131], [157-8], 183, 195, 197, 209, 211, 254, 377-8, 397, 415 Figs, 45, 81, 108, 266, 283, 303, [463] Financial interests, power of, 152 Financial system and motives of later Roman Empire, 211-2, [225], 346, 348, 354-5, 375-8, 381-3, 388 foll., 394, 401, 410 foll., 427 Fires, 249, 374, 428 Firewood, 42, 107, 111, [115], 118, 252, 309, 388, 408 Flocks and herds (grazing and breeding), 16, 19, 20, 29, 81, 88, 90, 115-6, 121, 154, 165, 171, 174, 179, 266, 278, 301, 303, 309, [372], 388, 406, 429, 448 Floods, 108, 312, 322, 374 Flower gardens, 108-9 Food, imported, 39, 47, 48, 69, 77, 81, 104, 119, 154, 174, 184, 266, 283, 288, 309, 326, 347, 358, 403, 416 Foods, 19, 20, 24, 25, 45, 137, 283, 403 Fortified homesteads, 412-3, 429 Free craftsmen employed by farmer, 172-3, 184, [462] Freedmen (German), 292 Freedmen (Greek), 80, 82, 85, [123] Freedmen (Roman), 127, [160], 168-9, 183, 188, 192-3, 196-7, 201, 213, 234, 236, 243, 244, 264, 271, 284, [288], 290-1, 300, 312, 314-5, 318, [334], 379, [429] Freedom, its local value, 21, 137 Fruit-trees and orchards, 19, 20, 25, 127-8, 139, [178], 230, 344, 350, 421 Goats, 47, 84, 183 Granaries, 107, [198], 249, 267, 288, 411-2, 429 Greeks enslave Greeks, 27, 31, 55, 73, 112, 435 Herdsmen and shepherds, etc., 16-7, 33, 35, 63, 84, 109, 115-6, 154, 162, 179, 218-20, 301, 304, 310, 315, 448 Highwaymen and brigands, 154, 160, 179, 191-2, 233, 323, 329, 342, 372, 375, 392, 405 Home or Manor Farm on estates, [161], [201], 216-7, 235, 246, 254-6, 257, 298, 319, 342, 353, 355 Horses, 33, 57-8, 120-1, 418-9 Hunting, fishing, bird-catching, etc., 185, 307, 309, 319, 405 Imperial jealousy of great private estates, 207, 301, 353, 387, 392-3, 394-5 Imperial taxation, crushing effect of, 301, [303], 336, 357, 381-4, 387 foll., 393, 410 foll., 421-2, 424, 427 Improvement by fire, 223 Internal maladies of Roman Empire, 409 foll., 413 Irrigation, 16, 246, 293 Italian agriculture, pictures of, discussed, 178-9, [182-3], 200-1, 214-8, 235, 251-3, 288, 404-6, [419] Italian agriculture, protection of, 157, [272] Italian land and taxation, 205, 212, [291], 358, 365, 388, 406 Italian land, encouragement to invest in, 274, 289, 291, 297, 319 Italian slaves in Italy, 137, 149, [160] Jealousy of wealth, 41, 44, 66, 70, 72, [76], 87, [109] Jurists as Ministers, 336 =Land, etc.= as investment, 106, 144, 159, 165, 169, 190, 201, 225, 289 foll., 319-20, 365-6, 405 as security, 143, 288-90, 296, 324, 326-7, [430] bought by capitalist speculators, 47, 57, 106, 142-4, 153, 191, [199], 238, [284], 353 buying or selling of, 23, [47], 57, 84, 88, 106, 108-9, [119], [135-6], 143-4, 154, 167, 175, 190-1, 193, [200], 234-5, 238-9, 251, 282, 284, 288 foll., 295, 305, 315, 318-20, 405, 428 grabbing and monopoly, 67, 88, 120, 142-4, 165, 174, 190, 248-9, 251, 282, 313-4, 438 holding peasantry and military duty, 10, 14, 42, 89, 90, 132-4, 138, 141-2, 148-9, 152-3, 175 foll., 198, 204, 213, 230, 313, [418], 438, 440 hunger, 8, 52, 54, 87, 106, 128, 133, 135, 145, 174, [437] lots, κλῆροι, 20, 21, 22, 26, 39, 51-2, 67, 76-7, 88-9, 91, 94, 120, 128, 133, 174, 177, 210, 441 lots, sale of, forbidden, 88, [91], 175-6 lots, small in early times, 135-6, 243, 281-3, 313 lots, tradition of primitive equality, 75, 89, [91] mortgages on, etc., 25, [82], 88, 106-7, 109, 155, 288-90, 327, [430] neglect of poorer soils, 351 owners, large, and war, 38, 39, 41 owning and citizenship, 8, 14, 25, 31, 32, 36, 44, 57, 66-7, 70, 77, 86, 94, 96, 97, 105-6, 127, 138, 148, 191, [313], 437, 440, 444 owning and residence, 51-2, 94, 106, 108-9, 124-5, 153, 165-6, 168, 250-1, 256 owning, prestige of, 13, 14, 39, 58, 106, 154-5, 157, 201, 205, 235, 297, 358, 365-6, 438 foll. precarious tenure of, 20, 134, 167 proud capitalists, 14, [47], 155, [169], 201, 235, 249-50, 282-3, 290-1, 314, 332, 358 public, 68, 94, 134-5, 143, [154], 165, 174-5, 177, 195, 197-8 question of improvements, [166], 174, [176], 233-4, 252, [301], 365-7 regarded as property of the state, 204, [277], 303, [377] rent of, in money or kind, fixed or by quota, 26, 77, 252, 292, 297, 303, 321, 332, 343-4, 346-7, 356, 365, 371, 376, [394], 428, 433 systems, foreign, 204-5, 210-1, 291-2 tenure, questions of, 237-8, 272, [286] the classes concerned with it, 432-3 value dependent on presence of labour, 60, [84], 122, 142, 144, [154], 170, 201, 256, [319], 320, 383, 393-5, 396 various qualities, importance of, 25, [36], 41-2, 47, [63-4], 82-3, [108-9], 121, 139, 180, 186, 231, [239], [267], 365 Landed peasantry, attempts to revive, 174-5, 186, 198, [200], 210, 226, 231, 239, [251], 273, [315], [351] =Landlord= as tax-collector, 393-4 can force tenant to cultivate properly, 253-4, 351, 363, 433 distrains on defaulting tenants, 298, 320-1, 378 duty to his tenant, 404 duty to support his tenant’s interests, 404 encroach on tenants’ rights, 246-7, [393] great, and politics, 153, 155, 157, 159, 160, 165, 207 great, as protectors, 392, 393, 424 great private, and imperial policy, 281-2, 301, 352-4, 366, [383], 392-3, 394-5 mad finance of, 154-5, 157, 289 rights of, 363-4, 367, 394 selfishness of, 294-6, 375, 405, 407 the enterprising, glorified, 12, 58, [178-9], 284 the town-bred man, 108, 200, [234] =Laws= Agrarian of 111 B.C., 143, 175 Claudian, 142, [165], [169] Codes, Theodosian and Justinian. See under list of passages cited Digest. See under list of passages cited Imperial by-laws, 343 foll., 346, 349, 352, 354 Imperial rescripts and constitutions, 346-7, [352], 360-1, 372, 376, 378, 386-7, 431 Julian (of Caesar), 177, 288 Jurists separately cited, 293, 333, 351 Law appealed to, [329], 331, 402 Law as evidence, 131, 361-2, 399 Licinian, 131, 141, 174 municipal charters, 354 of Gortyn, 436 on manumission, 333 Sempronian (of Gracchi), 175 Servilian (of Rullus), 177, 198 Twelve Tables, 283 Leases, perpetual, 359, 376 Leisure for citizens, 77-8, 93-4, 97, 102, [188], 454 Lime, 172, 388, 408 Limitation of scope, 6, 132 Literary evidence, nature and value of, 5, 6, 30, 131, 136 foll., 142-4, 145-8, 160, 187-8, 199-201, 213-7, 218 foll., 267-9, 281, 286-7, 300 foll., 303 foll., 305 foll., 317 foll., 325, 328, 399, 402, 409, 415, 417, 420, 422-3, 426 foll., 454 Loans by the state to landlords, 225, 273, 326 Local conditions, importance of, 255, 267, 282, 319-20, 372, 388 Local custom, recognition of, [345], 364-5, 367 Local government, questions of, 379-80 Luxury and extravagance, 381 Luxury, its effect on farming, 179, 246, 266, [306, 308-10], 365-6 Malarious lands, 180, 182, 253, [462] Manufacture of articles on the farm, 185, [219], [227], 262 Manufactures, 53, [83], 381, 441 Manuring, 44, 174, 266, 284 Market gardens, 184, 231, 265, 295-6, 306, 330, 332 Markets, urban, 306, 308-9 Master’s eye, importance of, 57-9, 116, 166, 170-1, 194, 243, [251], 252-3, 266, 282 Metics, 49, 71, [86], 97, 98 Migration, power of, the mark of freedom, 386, 444, 451 =Military= Class control [and plunder] farmers, 26-8, 68, 91-2, [94], 101, [103], [104], 436 Colonies and settlement of discharged soldiers on land, 10, 11, 29, 155-6, 176-7, 179, 210, 214-5, 219, [223], 234, 236, 238, 240, 251, 274-5, 293 Gymnastics and military service, 100-1, 128, 316 License and outrages, 104, 160, 219, [313, 315], 330, 342, 374, 378, 405, 422-3 Mercenary soldiers, 10, 50, 53-4, 64-5, 71, 95, 103-4, 112-3, 116, 119, 125, 132, 292, 339 Professionalism, growth of, 13, [54], 69, [74], 95, 100, 153, 177, 186, 210, 313, 316, 417 Service unpopular and evaded, 41, 71, 103, 324, 326 Substitutes, 324, 396 Systems, 9-11, 27, [97-8], 101, 122, 128, 132-3, 138-9, 152-3, 175-7, 186, 209-10, [225], 323-4, 339, [341], 396-7, 407, 413-4, 417, [423], 438 Tenure of barbarian colonists, 273, 339-40, 415 Veterans, retired, as local magnates, 400, 402 Milk and cheese, 265, 309 Mining and quarrying, 51, 59, 108, [192], 443, 446-7 Money-values, difficulty in ascertaining, 375, 387-8 Moral causes of Imperial decline, 423-6 Mules, 24, 33, 400, 422 Municipal estates, 207, 255, 359, 375-7, 400 Municipalities and benefactors, 271, 324, 381, [408] Municipalities as taxation-centres, 380-1, 390, 392, 401, [408], 421, 425 Municipalities, jealousy between, 380, 401 408-9 Municipalities, local senators and magistrates of, 217, 293, 376, 390, 400-1 Municipal jurisdictions, 354, 380, 399 foll. Municipal offices shirked, 377, 381, 392, [401], 425 Music, 98, 123 Nationalization of aliens, [437], 444 New Hellenism, 112-4, 164, 275-6 Official favours and corruption, 357, 389-91, 403-7, 409, 410-1, 413-4, 421-2, 425 Old age, state-relief in, 80 Olives and oil, 19, 24, 42, 46, 47-8, 81, 84, 104, 108, 171-2, 174, 266, 283-4, 303, 350, 352, 406, 428, [463] Oriental and other foreign influences, 6, 7, 204-8, 210-1, 314 Oriental Greeks, 113, 153, 271, 379 Oxen, 16, 22, 24, 44, 47, 99, 172, 180, [197], 214, 228-9, 231, 243, 249, 253, 261, 282, 284, 286, 331, 364, 398, 433-4, 438 Patrons of villages, 212, 400-1, 425 Payment in kind, not in debased currency, 211, [359-60], 384, 388 Peasant-farmer, hard life of, 25, 35-6, [47], 83, 90, 213, 222, [234], 235, [313], [418] Peasant-farmer, retirement of, 237 Penal servitude, 326 Pigs, 372, 388 Pitch-works, 192 Plantation system, 162, 165, 201, 203, 239, 297, 443 Ploughing, 16, 19, 22-4, 33, 116, [185], 218, 261, 278, 284, 334 Police, rural, no regular force, 189, 311, 323, 372, 448 Poor freemen, their trials, 63, 125, 199, 302 Populations, forced transfer of, 113 Post, Imperial [_cursus publicus_], 378, 391, 397 Poultry, 262-3, 309 Poverty and discontent, 33-4, 38, 41, 66, 70, [199] Poverty, dread of, a stimulus, 22, 23, 25, 29, 36, [45], 46, 47-8 Poverty in Greece, 29, 53, 54, 302, 329 Poverty no reproach, 23, 111, [135 foll.], 302 Private property in land, growth of, 143-4, 174-5, 203, 205, 313, 436-8 Property, private, forbidden, 73, 75 Provincial land, tenure of, 293, 303, 351, [358] Public opinion, no force of, in Roman Empire, 357, 389 Reaping, 16, 22-4, 108-10, 180, 278 Reaping machine, 398 Reclamation encouraged by temporary exemption from rent or taxes, 337, 344, 349-50 Religion, 18, 19, 23, 44-5, 120, 170, 258, 260, 314, [404], 434, 444, 448 Remission of dues to relieve distress, 390-1 Rent, arrears of, [161], 209, 256, 298, 320-1, 365, 404 Repetitions unavoidable, 5 Representative government unknown, 66, [89] Restoration of exiles, effects of, 119, 122, 128 Rich and poor, 90, 94, 112, 120, 129, 205, 271, 273, 295, 302, 306, 329, 331-2, 391, 400, 403-4, 410, 424-5 Rights of way, watercourses, etc., 108, [258], 294-5, 373 Roads, 267, 295, 391, 429 Roads, public, work on, 173, 378, 391 Roman Empire a machine, 381-2, 384, 425, [427], 451 Roman Empire, stagnation in, 398, 451 Roman power of assimilation, failing, 270-1, 338, 340 Roman subjects prefer Barbarian rule, 423-4 Rural disputes and affrays, 188-91, 315, 372-4, [405] Self-help, duty of, 23 Sheep, 109, 309 =Slavery, Labour, Serfdom, etc.= Abolitionism, a modern movement, 34, 84, 445 foll. Apprenticeship, 79 Competition of slave labour with free, [48], [59], 71, 85, 124, [131], 157, 302, 441, [443] Eunuchs, 28, 310 Handicraftsmen, 16, 18, 23, 25, 28, 35, 62, 68, [73], 88, 144, 184, [193], 199, 245, 437-8, 441 Handicraftsmen, free, their difficulties, 302 Harbouring runaways, 375, [394], 404 Hired labourers not αὐτουργοί, 12, 13 Itinerant labourers, jobbing gangs of, 14, [110], 173, 222, 256, 327, 443 Journeyman contrasted with independent craftsman, 2, 35, [48], 452, 455 Labour, attempts to entice it from neighbours, 394 Labour despised, 19, 22, 28, 59, 64, 78, 80, 85, 188, 193, 245, 287, 359, [438], 440, 442, 444-5, 452 Labour, division of, 12, 15, 99 Labourer goes with the land, 94, [131], [211], 319-20, [360-1], 368, [393-5] Labourer, status of, often uncertain, 3, 33, 110-1, 117, 128, 193, 218-21, 222, 227-8, 256, 442-3 Labour for daily bread, 55-6, 58, 62, 111, [175], 199, 204, 313, 327, 441 Labour, for self or for another, 12-15, 25, 144, 148, 299, [327], 370, 399, [436], 438-44, 445, 458 Labour glorified, 231, 277-80 Labour good for the labourer, 56, 58, 64, 277-80, 316-7 Labour in discharge of debt, 161, 180, 182, 263, 437 Labour not degrading, 16, 19, 23, [64], 111, 149, 246, 277-9 Labour, personal, of working farmer, (see αὐτουργία), 23-4, 25, 30, 36, 44, 45, 58, 86, 123, 128, 136, 148-9, [165], 180, [184], 197, 208, 213-4, [216], 226, 230-1, 234, [243], [255], 283, 304, [325], 332, 345, 347, 353, [371], 395, 439 foll., [463] Labour question fundamental, 211-2, 237, 239-40, 268, 287, [344], 394 foll., 458 Labour, rustic, as a punishment, 124-5, 145-6, [167], 248, 444 Labour, rustic, as healthy exercise, 236, 277-80, 316-7, 440 Labour-services of tenants due without wage, 161, [201-2], [209], 211, 254, [256], 257, [265], 298, 342, 344-6, 348, 351, 353-4, 359, 383-4 Later serf-colonate a result of gradual change, 211-2, 254-6, 257, 333, 356, 359, 361, 378 foll., [386], 393-4, 424-5, 436, 450 Manual labour and direction, 12, 13, 20, 23-4, 35, 57-60, 124-5, 158, 176, 181, 258, 299, 316, 319, 371, 395, 445, 455, 458 Occasional labour, 15, 53, 85, 108, 111, 157, 161, 166, 180 foll., 186, 201, [254], 265, 342, 344-5, 346, 348, 359, 434, 443, 455 Odd jobs, porterage, etc., 46, 327 Overseers, etc., 51, [57], 59, 60, 88, 97, 165, 181, 261, 321, 404, 443, 447, 462 Quasi-slavery of free workers, 99, 144, 188, 441 foll. Self-disposal, 441, 443-4, 451, 453, 456 Serfage and slavery confused, 84, 86, 292 Serfage distinct from slavery or caste-system, 26-7, [131], 360-1, 436 Serf-colonate failing, 460, [463], 464 Serf-cultivators, 26-8, 30, 37, 50, 60, 69, 75, 77, 82, 84, 87, 92, 127, [131], 292, 361, 431, 436 Serfdom is practically slavery, 425, [431] Serf employed in war, 37, 75, 95 Slave artisans and craftsmen, 51, 55, 57, 184, 441, 446 Slave as fellow-man, 34, 56, 62, 113, 245, [260], 323, 328, 445 Slave brigands, 154, 189-92, 392, 448 Slave-gangs, not to be homogeneous, 77, 94, 162, 181-2 Slave-gangs, special foremen of, 158, 185, 260 Slave insurrections, 162, 175, 177, 181, 191, 198, 448 Slave-labour always available, 157, 174-5, 239, [285-6], 446, 455 Slave-labour, excess of, attempt to lessen, [131] Slave-labour, specializing of, on estates, 203, 261, 265, 461 Slave-labour untrustworthy and wasteful, 97, 111, 157, 180 foll., 186, 253, 283, 285, 319, 355, [398], 417, 419, 445, 455 Slave not a person, 44, [57], 77, 401 Slave not enrolled in army, 175, [186], 323-4, [396] Slave philosophers, 327 Slave-qualities, 34, 56, 180-1, 259 Slavery, absolute power of master, 18, 56-7, 158-9, 167, 244, 446 Slavery and labour in general, 2, 3, 15, 16, 34, [46], 48, 78, 110-2, 135-8, 161, 170, 180-2, 186, 216, 222, 230-1, 239, 281, 285, 299, 304, 316, [383], 385, 395, 429, 433-5, 440 foll., 444-5, 455 Slavery, attempts to justify, 79, 439 Slavery, domestic, 8, 26, 30, [39], 61, [80], 97, [109], [123], 124, 137, 221, 231, 244, 249-50, 285, 309-10, 311, 318, 429, 431, 441-2, 446 Slavery from gambling debt, 291 Slavery, growth of humaner views on, 61-2, [79], 167, 182, 185, [221], [229], 242-3, 244-5, [260-1], [285], 310-1, 317, 323, 326-8, 438, 445 Slavery ignored, 237-40 Slavery, industrial, 8, 51, 53, 55, [80], 123, [137], 335, 441 Slavery, its economic success or failure, 156 foll., 283, 285, 323, 370, [434], 442, 445 Slavery justified, 34, 78-9, 100, 439, 442 Slavery, kidnapping, 20, 53, 55, 79, 122, 160, 243, 263, [323], 326, [329] Slavery, legends of none in early times, 15, 30, 62, 123, 439, [452] Slavery of debtor to creditor, 25, [134], 263, 269, 436-7, [438], 442 Slavery, origin of, 15, 17, 78, 236-7, 434, 446 Slavery originally on small scale and domestic in character, 137, 149, [228], [231], 243, 245, 285, 434-5, 446 Slavery, query, assumed, 16, 17, 20, 30, 32, 37, 44, 48, 68, 74-5, 84, 136, 213-4, 220, 304, 368, 445 Slavery, question of manumission, 21, 38, 58, 62, 79, 80, 84, 97, 122, 123-4, 129, 149, 158, [168], 182, 196, [218], 219, 260, 263, [288], 311-2, 318, 326, 333-4, 368, 369, 371, 431, 442-3, 446-7 Slavery recognized as basis of social and economic system, 45, 56, 60, 77-8, 99, 100, 102, [141-2], 192, 239, 256, 285-6, 310 Slavery, rustic, 8, 9, 20, 23-4, 25, [30], 37, [39], 44-5, 46-7, 50-2, 57-9, 63-4, [68], 77, 79, 80, 84, 87, 97, 106-110, 116-7, 122, 124, [129], 135-8, 144 foll., 151-4, 158, 160-2, 165 foll., 170 foll., 174 foll., 180 foll., 184 foll., 203, [208], 214, 216-7, 222, 227-33, 237, 240, 242-3, 258-63, 281, 285, 299, 310-1, 315, 321, 325, 333-4, 337, 340, 341-2, 345, 353, 355, 363-4, 369, 387, 394, 404, 414, 429, 435, 443-4, 455, 461-2, 464 Slavery, secondary (slaves of slaves), 18, [259] Slavery, the relation questioned, 33-5, 56, 113, 244, [302], [335], 446 Slavery unknown among the gods, 35 Slavery, was it the basis of ‘classical’ civilization?, 7, 8, 15, 453, 455 Slaves acquire property, [see _peculium_], 38, 58, 80, 167-8, 181-2, 219, 250, 263, 318, 369, 442 Slaves and freemen work side by side, 48, 63, 135-8, [140], 149, 171-3, 180 foll., 444-5 Slaves as gladiators, 162, 189, 328 Slaves as informers, danger from, 84, 244, [334] Slaves as oarsmen, 53, 90, 95, 122, 326 Slaves as property, 17, 18, [55], 56-7, 77, 82, 122, 155, 167, 172, 182, 189, [221], 311, 315, 369-70, 442-3 Slaves as war-booty, 10, 17, 27, 37, 53, 55, 120, 122, 129, 136, 153, 176, 236-7, 310, 325, 337, 387 Slaves a worry to masters, 97, 124, 285 Slaves brought on the stage, 34, 62, 113 Slaves, care of their health, 77, 161, 185, 262, 442, 462 Slaves, condition of, 17, 18, 20, 21, 56-7, 311, 324, 370-1 Slaves, contractors’ gangs of, 108, 110, 166, 214 Slaves, cruel punishment of, 196, 244, 249, 443 Slaves, deliberate breeding of, 161, [169], 181, [249], 257, 260, 262, 311-2 Slaves employed in business and professions, 97, 192, 305, 446 Slaves employed in hunting, 405 Slaves, female, 17, 18, 24, 45, 57, 168, 181, 221, 231, 257-8, 260, 262, 307, 318, 364, 431 Slaves, food, lodging and dress of, 20, 23-4, 25, 45, [57], 116, 154, 157, 171-2, 181, [193], 258, 260, 309, [441] Slaves, good health of, 317, 440 Slaves, home-born [οἰκογενεῖς, _vernae_], 129, 169, 181, 235, 262, 311-2, 430-1 Slaves let out for service at a rent, 38, 39, 61, 64, 80, 110, [117], 170, 193, 247, 256, 370-1, 442-3 Slaves liable for masters’ safety, 244, 323 Slaves, loyalty of, 18, 20, 34, 61, 240 Slaves, masters responsible for their vices, 56-8, 61, 77, 245 Slaves, moral qualities needed in, 56-8, [61], 77, [97], [181-2], 196, 259-61, 323 Slaves, names of, 45, 63-4, 137, 213, 285 Slaves not αὐτουργοί, 12, 13, 439 Slaves of _publicani_, 151, 188, 192 Slaves, old age of, 80, 97, 158, 167, 182, 263, 326, 443, 447 Slaves, public, 68, 86, 91, [400], 446 Slaves, punishment of, interrupted by war, 45 Slaves, restriction on sale of, 394 Slaves, rewards of, better than punishments, 181-2, [185] Slaves, runaway, 50-1, 158, 192, 375, 404, 435, [447] Slaves serving in war, 10, 122, 129, 142, [162], 183, [323-4], 396, 407 Slaves, supply of, reduced, or rise in price of, 41, 117, 141-2, 160-1, 162, [204], 208, 210, 257, 298, 310, 340, 344, 351, [354], [375], 387, 450 Slaves, torture of, 110, 421 Slaves, training of, 57, 169, 181-2, [258], 260 Slaves unruly, 38, 78, 181, [260], [310] Slave-tenant or _métayer_ a quasi-partner, 298-9, [466] Slave-tenants, 257, 299, [307], 367-8, 369, 371, [393], [404], 450 Slave-trade, 17, 18, 20, 25, 53, 55, 57, 61, 79, 87, 112, 122, 137, 153-4, [169], 176, 210, 236, [242], 256, [259], 291-2, 310, 325-6, 327, 329, 414, 435, 446 Unskilled labour (‘hands’), 39, 99, 170, 172, [180-1], 188, 193, 227, 261, 442 foll. Wage-earning, 3, 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 23, 24, 25, 29, 34, 35, 44, 46, [53], 58-9, 61-4, 78-9, [88], 109-10, 117, 125, 140, 144-5, 150, 157-8, [160], 170-3, 175-6, 180, 182, 186, 188, 193, 199, 200-1, 216, 222, 235, 256, 287, 304-5, [313], 327, [344], [359], 370, 385, 434, 441 foll., 452, 456-9 Wage-labour for special work, 46, [110], 111, 125, 157, 171-3, 180, 182, 186, [202], 266 Wage, legal right to, 304 Small cultivating owners in Roman Empire, 341, 346, 390 Small holdings of state tenants, 177, 198 Small landholders persecuted by big neighbours, 144, 242, 248, 251, 283, 315, 330-1, 372, 467 Soldiers as practical farmers, 184, 340 Soldiers driven to farm-work, 53, [90], 147-8 Specialization in politics, 69, 72-5, 92-3, 98, 102 Squatters on waste land, 230, 272, 300 foll., [337], 349-52, 357, 428 State-contracts, 83, 142, 151-2, 187, 192, 366, 376 State-pay for public duties, 34, 38, 46, 47, 83, 87, 88, [120], 441 Steward a slave, 59, 97, [116], 124, 140, 153, 158-9, 166, 170-1, 186, 195-6, 216-7, 224, 242, 257-9, 264, [368], 443 Steward (_vilicus_) as tenant of a farm, 299, [307], 367-8 Steward directing free workers or overseeing tenants, [see _procurator_], 173, 216, 264 Steward, the interest of, 153-4, 158-9, 166, 254, 443, 447 Stoicism and Stoics, 187, 193, 242, 244-6, 275 foll., 310, 442, 449 Tax-farming system superseded, 206 Tenancies, beneficial, 143, 376 Tenancies, large, not common, 298, 343-4 Tenancy a contract-relation regulated by law, 208-9, 246-7, 252-7, 297-9, 321, 345, 362 foll., 433 Tenant, claims of, 363-4, 374, [466] Tenants find sureties, 345, 363 Tenants, good, hard to find, 208-9, 252-6, 298-9, 320-1, 367, 369, 450 Tenants-in-chief as rent and tax collectors, 343, 355 Tenants-in-chief, holding of the state [Middlemen], 195, 207-8, 209, 211-2, 343-53, 356, 358-9 Tenants-in-chief oppress sub-tenants, 346, 348, 354-7, 359, 384 Tenants-in-chief subletting to small farmers, 195, 197, 208-9, 211-2, [340], [342], 343 foll., 353, 355, 376-7, [405] Tenants, interest of Imperial government in their welfare, 394, 397-8, 400 Tenant’s property pledged to landlord, 363, 368 Tenant, the town-bred man, 254 Threshing, 16, 24, 278 Tillage by Mattock, 214, 284, 313, [316] Tillage, the appliances of, 180, 197, 303 Timber, 39, 96, 118, 227, 320 Tombs on estates, [41], 109, 312 Transport as an element of cost, 391 Transport by road or river, 267, 322 Upkeep, importance of, 262, 365 Veterinary treatment, 228, 418 Village communities, 134, 291, 437-8 [463] Vines, 19, 24, [43], 47-8, 81, 104, 107-8, 111, 121, 139, [157], 172, 174, 185-6, 261, 266, 283-4, 303, 308, 320-2, 352, 406, 416, 421, 428, [463] Voluntary action, its limits in ancient world, 440-4 War and peace, 67, 89, [91], 95, 100, 102 Wayfarers, nuisance from, 267 Weather-wisdom, 31-2 Wine, use of, 19, 42, 283, 388 II LIST OF WORDS AND PHRASES A. GREEK ἀγορά, 101 ἄγροικος, 63, 117 ἀγρονόμοι, 79 ἄκληρος, 20, [66] ἀνδράποδα, 17, 56, 60, 138 ἀνδράποδα μισθοφοροῦντα, 39, 110 ἀντίδοσις, 106 ἀπαρχή, 77 ἀπελεύθεροι, 97 ἄποροι, 463 ἀποφορά, 61, 64, 370 ἀρετή, 86, 89, [91, 98] ἀστικός, 108 αὐτουργία consistent with slaveowning, 13, 23, [40], 44, 50, 58-9, 84, [88], 123, 136-7, 165, [225], 345, 439-40 αὐτουργοὶ and αὐτουργία, 12, 13, [17], 23, 24, 35-6, [42], 49, 50, 58, 60, 62, 67, 82, 94, 102-3, 107, 123, 128, 197, 277, 302, [371], 439 foll., [459] ἀφορμή, 302 βάναυσοι, 73-4, 91, 98, 99, 101 βάρβαροι, 31 βασιλεύς, 400 βασιλικοὶ γεωργοί, 204, [207], 347, [378] γαμόρος, 27, 32, [76] γαπόνος, 36, 37 γεωργεῖν, 47, [88], 106 γεωργοί, a special class, 29, 68, 74, 101, [204], [347, 378], 395, 401 γεωργός, γεωργεῖν, etc., 33, 37, 39, 84, 90, 121, 445, 462 γῆ κληρουχική, 210 γῆ πεφυτευμένη, 104 γράμματα, 400 δασμολογεῖν, 83 δεσπότης, 337, 341, 401 δεσποτική, 97 δημιοεργοί, 18, 75 δημόσιοι, 68 δμῶες, 17, 18, 20, 23 δουλεία, 240 [τὸ] δοῦλον, 34 δοῦλος, 17, [79], 110 ἔθνος, 122 ἐνεργός, 225 ἐπικαρπία, 225 ἐπιμέλεια, 58 ἐπιστάτης, 59, [172] ἐπίτροπος, 57, 59, 60, 461 ἔργα, 16 ἐργασία, 461-2 ἐργάτης, 35, 107, 116, 121, 125, 128, 304, 461 ἔργον, 19, 22-3 ἔριθοι, 10, 23, 116 ἔρις, 22 ἐσχατιά, 106 εὐπορία, 92, 102 θῆτες, θητεύειν, 16, 18, 19, 20, 23, 25, 29, 35, 85, 98, 110, 144, 147 θρέμματα, 122 ἰδία, 211 [τὸ] ἴσον, 66, [95] κατασκευή, 122, 240 κατοικεῖν, 108 κοινόν, 66 κοινωνοί, 463 μισθός, 16, 23, 34, 64, 75, 95, 110, [304] μισθωτοί, 46, 78, 85, [109], 110, 117, 125 νόμος, 402 ξύλα, 107 οἰκέται, 30, 39, 64, 110, 341 οἰκεύς, οἰκῆες, 17, 21, 30 οἰκογενεῖς, 129 οἰκοδεσπότης, 304 οἰκονόμος, 461 ὀπώρα, 108, 111 ὄρη, 111 ὅροι, 107 παραμονά, 123 πάροικοι, 347, 378 πενέστης, 37, 116 περίοικοι, 94 πρόκλησις, 110 σκαφεύς, 35, [116] στάσις, 66 στρατιώτας, 116 συνοικία, 108 σώματα, 122, 396 τεμένη, 111 τεχνῖται, 68, 98 τροφή, 75, 95, 304 φελλεύς, 47, 83 φιάλη, 237 φύσις, 34-5 χορηγία, 86, [93] χρηματιστική, 98 χωρία, 463 B. LATIN _abigei_, 372 _actor_, 258, 263, 299, 300, 319, 324, 367-8 _adaeratio_, 396 _addicere_, 424 _adscribere_, _adscripticii_, 425 _adsidui_, 10, 152, 253 _advenae_, 425 _aedificare_, 214 _agellus_, 215-6, 219, 243, 318, 334, 425 _aggeres publici_, 429 _agrestes_, 199, 200, 230 _agricola_, 227, 230, 284, 398, 445 _agri fiscales_, 347 _agri rudes_, 349 _agri vectigales_, 376 _alimenta_, 296 foll., 324 _alligati_, [see _compediti_] _annonariae regiones_, 388 _annona urbis_, 388, [402-3], 427 _aquarii_, 294 _arare_, _arator_, 195, 197-8, 214, 219, 227, 248, 308, 312 _aridi fructus_, _partes aridae_, 350 _artes_, 188, 193 _artifex_, 245 _asinarius_, 172, 227 _atriensis_, 246, 250, 319 _attributi_, 380 _auctoritas principalis_, 376 _bubulcus_, 172 _burgus_, 429 _calcarius_, 172 _canon_, 350-1, [356], 428 _capita_, 395, 421 _capitatio_, 386, 395, 411, [421], 424, [431] _capitulum_, 410 _capulator_, 172 _casa_, 312 _castella_, 413 _censitores_, 421 _civilis pars_, 418 _classes, decuriae_, 261 _colere_, 184, 230, 253, 267, 364 _coloni Caesaris_, 208-9, [293?], 347, 355, 357, 377-8 _coloni indigenae_, 252, [347], 396 _colonia partiaria_, 211, 321, 332, 343, 347, [350], 356, [463] _colonia_, place to which _colonus_ belongs, 258 _colonia_ [settlement], official sense, 133, [141], 152 _colonus_ as serf-labourer, 383-4, 392, 394, 401, 416, 424-5, 429, 431 _colonus_ as sub-tenant, 195, 209, 343-52, 355-6, 359, 376-7 _colonus_ becoming bound to the soil, [161], 201, 210-2, 257, 274, 333, 344-52, 356, 358-9, 383-4, 386-99, [404], 415-6, 450 _colonus_, cultivator, 133, 167, 183, 195, 215, 230, [233], 249, 267, 286, [293], [364], 445 _colonus_, free but dependent, 161, 183, [195], 209, 254, [264], 307-8, 312, 340, 358-9, 404 _colonus imaginarius_, 367 _colonus_ may sublet farm, 364 _colonus_, mean economic and social position of, 195, 235-6, 243, 246-7, 255, 307-8, 364 _colonus_, member of a _colonia_, 293 _colonus originalis_, 431 _colonus_, tenant farmer [free in law and fact], 139, 157-8, 183-4, 194-5, 202, [208], 210, 215-6, 221, 224, 233-5, 243, 246, 252-5, [267], 286, [292], 295, 315, 325, 332, 362-3, 364, 366-7, 371-3 _colonus_, veteran allottee, 155-6, [215], 223, 249, [293?] _colonus_, yeoman farmer, 230 _compediti alligati vincti_, 166, 172, [218], 220, 227, 248, [252], 260-3, 300, 320, 334-5 _compositio_, 431 _conductor_, 264-5, 343, 345-51, 355-7, 359, 364, 366, 377, 405 _conductum_, 247 _conquisita_, 411 _contubernalis_, _contubernium_, 258, 300 _corpora_, 396 _cultores_, free, 141, [198], 320 _cura domini_, 252 _curia_, _curiales_, 390, 392, 401-2, 425 _cursus publicus_, [378], 391 _custodes_, 171-2, 311, [321] _decem primi_, 421 _decretae provinciae_, 408 _decreta oppida_, 408 _decuma_, δεκάτη, 195, 197, 204 _dediticii_, 389, 424 _dispensator_, 196 _divisio_, ascertainment of shares, 350 _domestici_ = _familia_, 185 _domestici fidei_, 428 _dominium_, 247, 376, 393 _dominus_, 166, 171, 184, 215-6, 219, 229, 239, 247, 252, 260, 264, 292, 311, 343, 350, 356, 363, 366, 368, 397, 416, 419, 430, 431 _dotes_, 299 _emphyteusis_, 350, 359, 376 _emptor_, 171 _epistates_, [59], 172 _ergastulum_, 141, 145-6, 160, 185, 192, 233, 242, 260, 262-3, 285, 334 _exceptio iurisiurandi_, 364 _faber_, 172, 184, 319 _faber ferrarius_, 173 _factores_, 171 _familia_, 137, 155, 170-3, 188, 194, 245, 253, 258, 261, 334 _famulus_, _famula_, 220-1, 227, 230-1, 249 _fide dominica_, 299, 311 _fideiussores_, 363 _fiscalis raeda_, 422 _fiscus_, 377-8 _forma perpetua_, 347 _fossor_, [see σκαφεύς], 186, 227, 248-9, 317 _fructus_, 247, 321, 363, 366, 404 _frui licere_, 363 _frui possidere_, 351 _frumentationes_, 326 _fugitivi_, 191-2 _fullones_, 184 _fundi fiscales_, 377 _fundus_, 343, [352], [356], 360, 366, 368, 412 _genitale solum_, 393 _gens_ as landholder, 134 _gravia loca_, 180, 253 _heredium_, 231 _holitor_, 295 _honores qui indicuntur_, 377 _hortulanus_, 295, 332 _hortus_, _horti_, 231, 249, 283, 295, 312 _ianitor_, 311 _immunitas_, 377 _impatientia_, 419 _imperium_, 148, 247 _impotentia_, 295 _incolae_, 360 _indictiones_, 382-3, 393, 410-1 _indigenae_, 425 _indulgentiae_, 410 _ingenuus_, 243, 287, 312, 317, 396 _inquilini_, 339-40, 346, 360, [378], 395, 424, 430-2 _inquilinus_ or _colonus_, 431-2 _instruere_, _instrumentum_, 216, 243, 255, 297-9, 311, 320-1, 344-5, 364-5, 367-8, 371 _interdicta_, 189-91, 373 _iugatio_, 395 _iugerum_, 135, 139, 143, 167, 172, 184, 186, 230, 275, 281-2, 284, 313 _iuris alieni_, 386, [424], 425 _ius commercii_, 389 _iusta_, fair task, 259, 261 _latifundia_, 143, 154, 160, 167-8, 185, 198, 201, 203, 205, [222], 224, 236, 247, 249, 281, 283, 297, [314], 315, 354-5, 358, 369 _latrones_, 372 _legata_, 368 _leguli_, 171 _lex_ = charter, by-law, 343, 354 _lex_ = contract, agreement, 233 _lex Manciana_, 343, 352-3 _liberalis_, 245, 331 _locator_, 364 _lustrum_, 321, 364, [376] _magister pecoris_, 172, 219, 228 _magistri_, 228, 259, 260, 267 _manceps_, 327, 376 _mancipia_, 260, 262, 285, 320, 369 _matrimonium_, 431 _mediastinus_, 217, 261 _medici_, 184, [228], [256] _mercator_, 215 _mercennarius_, 125, 139-40, 159, 173, 176, 180, 182, 186, 188, 193, 235, 247, 256, 371, [463] _merces_, 370-1 _messores_, 188, 227, 417 _militares viri_, 402 _militaris impressio_, 405 _militia_, 418 _monitor_, 261 _munera_, 377, 397 _navicularii_, 391 _nexus_, 263, 269 _nudo consensu_, 364 _nutrix_, [see τροφός], 431 _obaerarii_ [_obaerati_], 180, 182, 216, 263, 269, 437 _obnoxii_, 404 _offensiones domesticae_, 181 _opera_, _operae_, [170], 180, [186], 188, 193, 211, 229-30, 235, 254, 256, 265, 267, 269, 282, 286, 327, 333, [340], 344-6, 347-8, 351, 354, 370-1, [462] _operarius_, 125, 170, 172-3, 180, 185, 193, 197, 243, 261 _opifex_, 144, 175, 193, 199, 245 _opilio_, 172, 219, 262 _opus_ [meaning of], 161, 252-4 _opus exigere_, _facere_, _operis exactor_, etc., 258-9, 261, 265, 321 _ordo [decurionum]_, 293, 376, 387 _originarius_, _originalis_, 431 _origo_, domicile, 211, 386, 396, 425, 430-1 _paganus_, 313, 411, 423 _palare_, verb, 282 _palatium_, 347 _partes agrariae_, 346, [350] _partes aridae_, 350 _partiario_, _partiarius_, 166, 172, 343, 347 _pastinatio_, 264, 284 _pastores_, 162, 165-6, 171-2, 179, 183, 188, 191, 219, 227-8, [262] _pater_, _patres_, 215-7 _patrocinia vicorum_, 400-1, 425 _patronus_, 430-1 _peculium_, 158, 167-8, 180-2, 219, 263, 299, 369 _pensiones_, 161, 252 _peregrini dediticii_, 389 _persona plebeia )( colonaria_, 431 _pervasio_, _pervasor_, 424 _pignora_, 320 _pistor_, 246 _plebs_, _plebeius_, 341-2 _politio_, _politores_, 172-3, 186 _poma_, 350 _possessio_, 189, 191, 194, 349-50, 372-3, 376, 405, 424 _possessiones_, 143, [154], 165, 174-5, 247-8 _possessores_, 233, 295, 350, 392-3, 397, 427 _postliminium_, 332 _potentes_, 392 _praedia_, 289, 319, 320-1, 360 _praedia Caesaris_, 207, [353-4], 377 _praediola_, 194, 216 _praefectus annonae_, 403, 427 _prospectus urbi_, 402-3, 426 _praetorium_, 366 _precario_, 167 _procurator_, 190, 194-5, 264, 319, 354-5, 368 _procurators_, imperial, 341, 343, 345-52, 354-5, 377 _proprius_, 425 _provisa_, _provisiones_, 411 _publica adflictio_, 424 _publica_, _publicani_, 151-2, 179, 188, 192, 206, 318, 376 _pulchritudo iungendi_, 251, [319] _quasi colonus_, 299, 311, 368-9, 450 _quasi societatis iure_, 356, [363] _quinquennium_, see _lustrum_ _ratio_ = imperial account, 346, 350 _rationes_, 368, 404 _reconductio_, 345, 364 _reditus )( census_, 406 _relationes_, 402-3 _reliqua_, 298-9, 320-1, 343, 347, 365, 368, [404] _remissio_, 252, 320-1, 365 _rustica mancipia_, 369, [435] _rusticatio_, 250 _rusticus_, 230, 347 _salictarius_, 172 _saltuarii_, 250 _salius_, 165, [179], 191, 214, 222, 235, 314, 343-52, [356], 360 _scriptura_, 179, [192], [343] _secretum_, 408 _sederi_, _sessor_, 418 _sermo_, 349, 352 _servitia_, slaves, 141, 239, 285, 287 _servitium_, 229, 249, 262 _servitutes_, 373-4 _servus_, _serva_, 219, 221, 229, 247, 249, 252, 285, 334, [340], 368, 371, 404 _servus terrae_, 426 _sollemnia )( incrementa_, 411 _sordidus_, 245, 312, [397] _stipendiarii?_, 345 _strictores_, 171 _subsiciva_, 272 _subulcus_, 172, 219 _suburbicariae regiones_, 388, [403] _suffragium_, 428 _sui_ (or _mei_) = slaves, 184, 321, 323 _summa [consummatio]_ of labour, 172, [186], 267 _superexactiones_, 397 _superindictiones_, 382, 411 _supprimere_, _suppressi_, 233, 243, 263 _temo_, _temonaria functio_, etc., 396, 410, 414 _territorium_, 428 _Teutonicus vomer_, 416 _tirocinia_, 413-4 _topiarii_, 319 _trans Tiberim_, 435 _tributa_, 350-1, 378, 382, 410, [424] _tributarii_, 415, 431 _tributarium iugum_, 427 _trientabula_, 143, 152 _usus_, 247, 363 _usus fructus_, 370 _vagus_, _vagi_, 229, 396 _valetudinarium_, 161, 262 _vectigal_, 376 _veterani, milites_, 293 _vicarii_, 324 _vilica_, 170, 172, 251, 262, 306-8 _vilicus_, 124, 140, 153, 158-60, 166, 170, 172, 185-6, 190, 194-6, 215-7, [219], 224, [234], 242, 246, 251, 257-9, 262-4, 282, 299, 306-8, 311, 316, 335, 343, 345, 355, 364, 367, 404, [419], 461 _villa_, 125, [136-8], 141, 165, 214, 216, 224, 231, 235, 246, 255, 282, 298, 309, 311, 322, 343, 347, 366, 372, [412] _vincti_, [see _compediti_] _vinitor_, 219, 265 _vir bonus_, umpire, 367 _viritim_, _viritanus_, 133, 274 _vis_ and _vis armata_, [189-91], 373 _voluptaria praedia_, 366 III LIST OF PASSAGES CITED =Aelian=, _var hist_ V p 14, =282= =Aeschines= _Timarchus_ 13, =106=; 14, =109=; 4, =111=; _Embassy_ 59, =112= =Aeschylus= _Agam_ 733, =30=; _Eumen_ 186-90, =31=; 890-1, =32=; _Persae_ 186-7, 255, 337, 391, 423, 434, 475, 798, 844, =31=; _Prom_ 454-8, 708, =31=; _Suppl_ 612-4, =32=; _fragments_ =32= =Agrimensores= [_gromatici_, ed Lachmann], I 35, =205=, =358=; 53-4, =272=, =341=, =354=; 133, =272=; 203, =349=; 164, =354= =Ammianus=, XVI 5 §§ 14, 15, =410=; XVII 3, =411=; XVIII 1, =411=; XVIII 2 § 2, =412=; XIX 11 § 3, =391=; XIX 11 § 7, =396=, =413=; XX 4 § 1, =415=; XXVII 4 § 18, =405=; XXVIII 6 § 8, =413=; XXVIII 5 § 15, =415=; XXIX 6 § 6, =412=; XXIX 5 §§ 10-13, =412=; XXIX 5 § 25, =412=; XXX 5 § 6, =411=; XXX 10 § 4, =412=; XXX 2 § 10, =413=; XXXI 4 §§ 4, 5, =413=; XXXI 6 § 5, =414=; XXXI 10 § 17, =414=; XXXI 9 § 4, =415= =Andocides= (by pages) _de reditu_ 22, =81=; _de mysteriis_ 12, =82=; _de pace_ 25, 28, =84= =Antiphon=, fragm =82= =Appian=, _civ_, I 8 § 2, =131=; I 7 § 5, =144=, =248=; I 116 § 2, =162=; I 29 § 2, =275= =Apuleius= _apolog_ 24, =328=; 17, 23, =332=; 17, =333=; 23, =334=; 47, =334=; 93, =334=; 87, =335=; _metam_ IV 9, =329=; IV 3, =332=; IV 30, =332=; V 17, =332=; VI 31, =329=; VII 4, 9, =329=; VII 15, =332=; VIII 22, =258=, =335=; VIII 24, =329=; VIII 17, =331=; VIII 17, 29, 31, =332=; VIII 26, =332=; IX 12, =2=; IX 31-2, =295=, =332=; IX 39, 42, =330=; IX 35-8, =330=; IX 2, =331=; IX 39-42, =332= =Aristophanes= _Acharnenses_ 32-4, 180, 211, 557 foll, 626 foll, =42=; 248-50, 259, 266, =44=; 1018-36, =47=; _Aves_ 1152, 1431-2, =46=; 712, =48=; _Ecclesiazusae_ 243, =40=; 197-8, 591-2, =41=, =46=; 651, =45=; 605, =48=; _Equites_ 792-4, =40=; 316-7, =42=; _Lysistrata_ 1173-4, =43=; 1203-14, =45=; _Nubes_ 202-3, =41=; 43 foll, =42=, =45=; 138, =45=; 71-2, =47=; _Pax_ 632-6, =40=; 570, 1185-6, =42=; 190, 509-11, 551-70, 1127 foll, 1318-24, =43=; 1140 foll, 1248-9, =45=; 552, 1318, =47=; _Plutus_ 510-626, =41=, =46=; 223-4, 903, =42=; 26-7, 253, 517-20, 525-6, =45=; _Ranae_ 164-77, =46=; _Vespae_ 442-52, =45=; 712, 959, =46=, =111=; fragments =43=, =46= =Aristotle= Ἀθην πολ 16, 24, =11=, =25=, =86=, =89=; 11, 12, =25=, =89=; 4, =91=; _de mundo_ 6 §§ 4, 7, 13, =102=; _Economics_ I 5 § 1, 6 § 5, =87=, =97=; I 5 § 3, =95=, =304=; I 5 § 5, =97=; I 6 § 9, =97=; I 5 § 6, =162=; _Ethics_ II 1 § 4, =93=; VIII 11 § 6, =99=; X 5 § 8, =95=; X 10 § 13, =101=; _Politics_ [cited in old order of books], I 7 § 5, =87=; I 7, =97=; I 8 §§ 3 foll, =98=; I 9, =98=; I 10, 11, =98=; I 11 § 1, =98=; I 11 §§ 3-5, =99=; I 2 § 5, 5 §§ 8, 9, =99=; I 13 § 13, =99=; I 5, 6, =100=; I 11, =284=; I 2 § 5, =433=; II 6 § 13, =65=, =67=; II 7 § 1, =65=; II 7 § 6, =65=; II 12 § 10, =65=, =67=; II 7, 8, =65=, =67=; II 7 § 7, =67=, =91=; II 7 §§ 3-7, =67=; II 7 §§ 14, 15, =67=; II 8 §§ 2, 3, =67=; II 7 §§ 8, 9, =68=; II 6 § 15, =91=; II 7 § 12, =91=; II 6 § 17, =95=; II 9 §§ 21-2, =95=; II 9 § 34, =95=; II 3 § 4, =97=, =124=; II 5 §§ 4, 8, =97=; II 5 § 28, =99=; II 5 § 19, =101=; II 10 § 16, =101=; II 6 § 6, =102=; III 13 § 2, =66=; III 15 § 13, =89=; III 5 § 2, =97=; III 5 §§ 4-6, =98=; IV 4 §§ 15, 18, =89=; IV 6 § 2, =89=; IV 15 § 6, =92=; IV 8 § 5, 9 § 4, =94=; IV 9 §§ 7-9, =95=; V 6 §§ 12, 13, =95=; VI 4 §§ 8-10, =88=; VI 4 §§ 1, 2, 13, 14, =89=, =90=; VI 4 § 11, =90=; VI 5 §§ 8-10, =92=; VI 8 § 3, =99=; VI 2 § 3, 4 § 20, =101=; VII 6 §§ 7, 8, =54=, =90=, =100=; VII 4 § 6, =86=, =96=; VII 8 §§ 7-9, =86=, =102=; VII 9, =89=; VII 16 §§ 12, 13, =90=, =93=; VII 8, 9, 10, =94=; VII 9 § 5, =95=; VII 14, 15, =95=; VII 2 §§ 3-7, =97=; VII 10 § 14, =97=; VII 6 §§ 1-5, =99=; VII 15 §§ 1-6, =100=; VII 12 §§ 3-6, =101=; VII 10 § 13, =162=; VIII 4, =95=, =100=, =101=; VIII 6 §§ 3-8, =98=; VIII 3 § 7, =100=; _Rhetoric_ I 13 § 2, =35=; I 9 § 27, =99=; I 12 § 25, =102=; II 4 § 9, =102=; III 8 § 1, =97= =Arrian=, _Indica_ 10 §§ 8, 9, =123=, =210= =Athenaeus=, 149 _d_, =50=; 263, 267 _e_-270 _a_, =62=; 272 _a_, 264 _c_, =123=; 276 _b_, =245=; 264 _d_, =442= =Attic Comedy=, 61-5, =121= =Augustin=, _de civitate Dei_ X 1, =393= =Caesar= _bell Afr_ 32, 35, 56, =275=; 9, 40, 65, =412=; _bell civ_ I 34, 56, =14=, =183=, =254=; _bell Gall_ IV 1, VI 22, =291= =Calpurnius=, IV 118, =249=; IV 25-6, =265= =Cato= _de agri cultura_ 5 § 4, =140=, =173=; 2 § 7, =158=, =167=; 5 § 2, =159=; 3 § 1, =166=; 4, =166=, =170=; _praef_ =166=, =167=; 16, 136-7, 146, =166=; 147, =166=; 56-7, =166=, =172=, =186=; 10 § 1, 11 § 1, =167=, =172=; 1 § 4, =167=; 1 § 3, =170=; 2 § 1, =170=; 5, 83, 143, =170=; 13 § 1, =171=; 64 § 1, =171=; 66, =171=; 144-5, =171=; 146, =171=; 149 § 2, =171=; 150, =172=; 66-7, =172=; 16, 38, =172=; 5 § 6, =172=; 14, =172=; 7 § 2, 21 § 5, =173=; 2 §§ 2, 4, =173=; 136, =173=; _Remains_ (ed Jordan) p 77, =164=; 43, =165=, =169= =Catullus=, XXIII 1, =221= =Cicero= _ad Atticum_ XIII 9 § 2, =194=, =216=; _ad familiares_ XIII 7, 11, =207=; XVI 16 § 1, =197=; _Brutus_ § 257, =188=; § 85, =192=; § 297, =193=; _Catil_ II § 18, =14=, =155=, =289=; II § 20, =155=; _Cato maior_ § 56, =135=, =137=; _de finibus_ V § 52, =188=; _de imperio Pompei_ § 16, =188=; _de lege agraria_ II § 78, =155=; II § 80-3, =198=; II §§ 84, 88-9, =198=; II § 82, =199=; II § 50, =207=; _de legibus_ III § 30, =201=; _de officiis_ I § 150, =188=, =230=; I § 151, =193=; I § 41, =193=, =230=; II § 89, =154=, =165=; III § 112, =145=; _de oratore_ I §§ 83, 263, =188=, =193=; I § 249, =194=, =264=; II § 40, =188=, =193=; II § 287, =195=; III § 46, =188=, =193=, =227=; _de republica_ III § 16, =157=; V § 5, =186=, =195=; _in toga candida_, fr 11, =191=; II; _in Verrem_ I § 147, =193=; II § 27, =191=; III § 119, =158=, =196=; III § 66, =191=; III §§ 53-5 and _passim_, =195=; III § 27, =197=; III § 55, =224=; III § 190, =391=; IV § 112, =191=; IV § 77, =193=; V § 45, =142=; V _passim_, =191=; _paradoxa_ VI § 46, =190=; _Philippics_ VIII § 32, =196=; _pro Caecina_ §§ 10-19, =190=; § 1, =191=; §§ 58, 63, =193=, =194=; §§ 17, 57, 94, =194=; § 94, =224=; _pro Cluentio_ § 161, =191=; § 163, =193=; §§ 175, 182, =195=, =224=; _pro Fonteio_ §§ 11-13, =274=; _pro Murena_ § 62, =187=; _pro Plancio_, § 62, =196=; _pro Rabirio_ (_perd_) §§ 10-17, =196=; _pro Roscio comoedo_ §§ 32, 49, 54, =189=; _pro Sex Roscio_ §§ 39-51, =146-7=, =193=; § 120, =197=; _pro Sulla_ §§ 56-9, =290=; _pro Tullio_ §§ 7-12, 21, =189=; §§ 14-22, =190=; § 17, =190=, =194=, =264=; § 8, =191=; _pro Vareno_ fr 5, =191=; _Tusculan disputations_ I § 34, =188=; III § 77, =188=; V § 104, =188=; V § 34, =193= =Claudian=, =415-7= =Codex Justinianus=, IV 65 § 6, =364=; IV 61 § 5, =397=; IX 38, =375=; X 32 § 42, =402=; XI 48 § 13, =340=, =424=, =431=; XI 59 § 1, =387=; XI 48 §§ 2, 4, =393=; XI 48 § 7, =394=; XI 50 §§ 1, 2, =394=; XI 55 § 2, =397=; XI 48 § 1, =398=; XI 54, =400=, =425=; XI 64 § 2, 48 § 16, =425=; XII 33 § 6, =396= =Codex Theodosianus=, II 4 §§ 5, 6, =424=; III 1 § 2, =425=; IV 13 §§ 2, 3, =395=, =397=; V 17, 18 [= 9, 10 Gothofr], =340=; V 11 §§ 8, 12, 14 § 30, =349=, =357=; V 14 § 34, =351=; V 17 [9] §§ 1, 2, =386=, =393=, =425=; V 17 § 2, =402=; V 18 [10], =424=, =425=, =431=; VI 26 § 14, =396=; VII 13 §§ 7, 8, 12, =395=, =396=; VII 13 § 7, =396=; VII 18 § 10, =396=; VII 13 § 3, =418=; VII 1 § 12, =423=; VII 20 § 7, =423=; VII 22, 1 § 8, =423=; VIII 5, =391=, =423=; VIII 2 § 3, =396=; IX 32 § 1, =375=; IX 30 § 3, =418=; X 3 § 4, =351=; X 3, =400=; X 10 § 25, =416=; XI 1 § 28, =293=; XI 1 § 4, =351=, =404=; XI 2 §§ 1-5, =388=; XI 1 § 14, =390=, =393=; XI 28, =390=, =410=; XI 1 §§ 11, 21, 22, =391=; XI 16 §§ 3, 4, =391=, =398=; XI 16, =393=; XI 1 § 12, =394=; XI 3 § 2, =394=; XI 7-10, 16 § 10, =395=; XI 11, =395=, =397=; XI 8, =397=; XI 16 §§ 14, 15, 18, =396=, =414=; XI 16 § 10, 17 §§ 2-4, =397=; XI 24, =400=, =425=; XI 24 § 2, =402=; XI 16 § 15, =410=; XI 1 § 36, =411=; XI 6, =411=; XI 1 § 26, 3 §§ 1-5, =425=; XI 3 § 3, =425=; XI 1 § 26, =426=; XII 1 § 45, =293=; XII 19, =340=; XII 1 § 128, =402=; XII 1 § 169, =411=; XIII 5, =391=; XIII 10 § 1, =391=; XIII 10 § 3, =393=; XIV 4 § 4, =391=; XIV 18, =392=; XIV 24, =408=; XVI 5 § 48, =392=; XVI 5 § 54, =405= =Columella=, I 4 § 2, =139=; I _praef_ §§ 3, 12, 13, 20, =160=; I 3 § 12, =161=, =233=; I 7, =161=, =224=, =233=, =252=, =355=; I 9 § 4, =172=, =186=, =300=; I 3 §§ 6, 7, =248=; I _praef_ §§ 12, 13-15, =251=, =256=; I 1 § 20, =251=; I 3 §§ 6, 7, 8-13, =251=; I 5 § 5, =253=; I 4 §§ 4, 5, =258=; I 8, =258=; I 8 §§ 1-3, =258=; I 8 §§ 3, 4, =258=; I 8 § 5, =258=; I 8 § 6, =258=; I 8 § 8, =258=; I 8 § 9, =258=; I 8 § 10, =259=; I 8 § 11, =259=; I 8 § 12, =259=; I 8 § 13, =259=; I 8 §§ 13-4, =259=; I 8 § 15, =260=; I 8 § 16, =260=; I 8 §§ 17-8, =260=; I 8 § 19, =260=; I 9 §§ 1-6, =261=; I 9 §§ 7, 8, =261=; I 4 § 7, =262=; I 6 § 3, =262=; I 3 § 12, =263=; I 6 § 19, =263=; I 8 § 5, 7 § 7, =263=; I 6 § 7, =264=; I 6 § 23, =264=; I _praef_ §§ 1, 2, =265=; I 3 § 9, =265=; I _praef_ § 12, =267=; I _praef_ § 17, =267=; I 2 § 3, =267=; I 3 §§ 3, 4, =267=; I 4 § 4, =267=; I 5 §§ 6, 7, =267=; I 6 §§ 9-17, =267=; I 6 §§ 7, 8, =355=; II 2 § 12, =256=; II 1, =265=; II 9 §§ 14, 16, =266=; II 6 § 2, 9 § 13, =267=; II 13 § 7, =267=; II 20 § 6, =267=; II 21 § 10, =267=; III 3 § 11, =205=, =358=; III 21 § 10, =256=, =265=; III 13 §§ 12, 13, =264=; III 3 § 4, =265=; III 3 § 8, =265=; IV 6 § 3, =256=; IV 3 § 1, =262=; IV 3 § 6, =265=; VI _praef_ §§ 3-5, =154=, =165=, =266=; VI _praef_ §§ 1, 2, =184=; VI _praef_ § 7, =229=; VI 2 § 15, 3 § 3, =261=; VI _praef_ § 4, =263=; VIII 11 § 2, 12, 15 § 7, =262=; VIII 2 § 7, =263=; VIII 10 §§ 3, 4, =266=; XI 1 § 18, =161=, =262=; XI 1, =258=; XI 1 §§ 3, 4, 7, =258=; XI 1 §§ 9-13, =258=; XI 1 §§ 13, 19, =258=; XI 1 §§ 20-1, =258=; XI 1 § 21, =258=; XI 1 §§ 22-3, =258=; XI 1 § 23, =258=; XI 1 §§ 4 foll, =259=, =260=; XI 1 § 23, =259=; XI 1 § 24, =259=; XI 1 §§ 25-6, =259=; XI 1 §§ 27-30, =259=; XI 1 § 22, =260=; XI 1 §§ 8, 9, =261=; XI 1 § 22, =262=; XI 1 § 12, =267=; XII _praef_ §§ 8-10, =160=, =251=; XII 1 § 6, 3 §§ 7, 8, =161=; XII 1 §§ 1, 2, =258=; XII 1 § 6, 3 §§ 7, 8, =262=; XII 3, _praef_ § 9, =262=; XII 3 § 6, =263= =Deinarchus=, p 99, =96= =Demosthenes= (cited by marginal pages) _Androtion_ 613, =107=; _Aphobus_ 816, =106=; _Aristocrates_ 668, =108=; _Callicles_ 1274 etc, =108=; _Crown_ 239, =106=; 242, =109=; 314, =111=; _Embassy_ 376, 386, 426, 442, =106=; 376, =107=; 401-2, =112=; _Eubulides_ 1319, =109=; 1318, =111=; 1313, =111=; _Euergus and Mnesibulus_ 1155 etc, =109=; _For Phormio_ 945, =106=; _Lacritus_ 933, =107=; _Leptines_ 466-7, =104=; _Midias_ 568, =107=; 530 etc, =112=; _Nausimachus_ 986, =106=; _Nicostratus_ 1253 etc, =108=; _Olynthiacs_ 17, =104=, =111=; _Pantaenetus_ 979, =108=; _Phaenippus_ 1040-1, =106=, =111=; 1044-5, =111=; _Polycles_ 1207-8, =105=; _Timotheus_ 1187, =109=; 1199 etc, =110= =Digest=, I 19 § 3¹, =347=, =357=; I 5 § 17, =389=; II 14 § 42, =350=, =378=; VI 3 §§ 1, 2, 3, =376=; VII 8 §§ 10⁴, 11, =363=; VII 1 § 41, =365=; VII 1 § 13, =366=; VII 1 § 13⁴, =366=; VII 4 §§ 8, 10, =366=; VII 1 §§ 25, 26, =370=; VII 7 § 3, =370=; VII 1 § 27³, =374=; VIII 6 § 7, =293=; VIII 6 § 20, =371=; VIII 3, =373=; IX 2 § 27¹⁴, =363=; IX 2 § 27⁹,¹¹, =368=; XI 4 § 1¹, =375=; XII 1 § 4¹, =321=; XII 2 § 28⁶, =364=, =366=; XII 6 § 55, =370=; XIII 7 § 25, =365=; XIII 4 § 3, =375=; XV 3 § 16, =368=, =450=; XVII 2 § 46, =363=; XVIII 1 § 35⁸, =372=; XIX 2 § 24³, =252=; XIX 2 §§ 24, 25³, =254=; XIX 2 § 24, =321=; XIX 2 § 3, =344=; XIX 2 § 19², =344=, =364=, =365=; XIX 2 §§ 15³, 24², 25², 51ᵖʳ, 54¹, =351=, =363=; XIX 2 §§ 15⁴, 25⁶, =356=; XIX 2 §§ 15¹,²,⁸, 25⁶, =363=; XIX 2 § 54ᵖʳ, =363=; XIX 2 §§ 9²,³, 23, 51ᵖʳ, =363=; XIX 2 § 52, =363=; XIX 2 §§ 15⁸, 24⁴, 25¹, =363=; XIX 2 § 15²,⁵, =363=; XIX 2 § 25⁶, =363=; XIX 2 § 60⁵, =363=; XIX 2 § 24¹, =364=; XIX 2 § 54¹, =364=; XIX 2 §§ 13¹¹, 14, =364=; XIX 2 §§ 3, 54², =364=; XIX 2 § 25³, =364=; XIX 2 §§ 19³, 25⁶, =365=; XIX 2 § 15, =365=; XIX 2 § 2ᵖʳ, =365=; XIX 2 §§ 25⁵, 29, =366=; XIX 2 §§ 55¹, 61ᵖʳ, =366=; XIX 1 § 49, =367=; XIX 2 § 30⁴, =368=; XIX 2 § 60⁷, =370=; XIX 2 § 25⁴, =372=; XIX 2 §§ 9³, 15, =374=; XIX 2 § 15², =374=; XIX 1 § 13⁶, 2 § 53, =376=; XIX 2 § 49, =377=; XIX 1 § 13⁶, =382=; XIX 2 §§ 13⁷, 15², =405=; XX 2 §§ 4, 7, =320=; XX 1 § 21ᵖʳ, =363=; XX 6 § 14, =363=; XX 1 § 32, =367=; XXI 1 § 32, =368=; XXVII 9 § 13ᵖʳ, =365=; XXVIII 5 § 35³, =368=; XXX § 112ᵖʳ, =360=; XXX § 39¹⁰, =377=; XXXI § 86¹, =256=, =365=; XXXII 1 § 99, =307=, =369=, =435=; XXXII § 91¹, =344=, =366=; XXXII §§ 91¹, 93², 101¹, =364=; XXXII § 41⁵, =367=; XXXII §§ 60³, 68³, =368=; XXXII §§ 41⁵, 91ᵖʳ,¹, =368=; XXXII §§ 91ᵖʳ, 97, =368=; XXXII § 97, =369=; XXXIII 7 § 12⁴, =250=; XXXIII 7 § 25¹, =254=, =369=; XXXIII 7 § 19, =255=; XXXIII 7 §§ 18⁴, 20¹, =257=, =365=, =367=, =371=; XXXIII 7 § 8ᵖʳ, =261=; XXXIII 7 §§ 12³, 20¹,³, =299=, =369=; XXXIII 7 § 12⁷,³³, =300=; XXXIII 7 § 20⁴, =300=; XXXIII 7 § 12¹²,¹³, =307=, =369=; XXXIII 7 § 15², =311=; XXXIII 7, =344=; XXXIII 4 § 1¹⁵, =363=; XXXIII 7 §§ 4, 15², 18⁴, 20¹, =364=; XXXIII 7 § 24, =365=; XXXIII 7 § 12³, 8 § 23³, =368=, =450=; XXXIII 7 §§ 12³⁸, 20³,⁴, 22¹, =368=; XXXIII 7 § 20, =368=; XXXIII 8 §§ 6ᵖʳ, 8ᵖʳ, =369=; XXXIII 2 § 28, =382=; XXXIII 7 § 25¹, =435=; XXXIV 3 §§ 16, 18, =364=; XXXIV 4 § 31ᵖʳ, =367=; XXXIV 1 § 18³, 3 § 12, =368=; XXXIX 4 § 12², =160=; XXXIX 6 § 3, =330=; XXXIX 3 §§ 4²,³, 5, =366=; XXXIX 4 § 11¹,⁵, =376=; XL 7 § 40⁵, =299=, =364=; XL 7 § 40⁶, =367=; XL 7 § 40ᵖʳ,⁴,⁵, =368=; XL 7 § 14ᵖʳ, =371=; XLI 3 § 33¹, =350=, =373=; XLI 2 § 30⁶, =364=; XLI 1 § 44, =372=; XLI 2 §§ 3⁸,¹², 25¹, =373=; XLI 1 § 7¹⁻⁶, =374=; XLIII 24 § 15¹, =264=; XLIII 20 §§ 2, 5, =293=; XLIII 20 § 1³⁹⁻⁴³, =294=; XLIII 32, 33, =363=; XLIII 16 § 20, =364=; XLIII 24 § 13⁶, =366=; XLIII 16 § 1²⁰, 24 § 3ᵖʳ, =371=; XLIII 24 § 5¹¹, =371=; XLIII 16, =373=; XLIII 9 § 1, =376=; XLIII 8 § 2⁴, =377=; XLIV 7 § 34², =363=; XLV 1 § 89, =363=; XLV 3 § 18³, =371=; XLVII 12, =312=; XLVII 2 §§ 52⁸, 62⁸, 83¹, 10 § 5⁴, =363=; XLVII 2 § 68⁵, =363=; XLVII 2 § 26¹, =365=, =367=; XLVII 2 §§ 26¹, 62³, 7 § 9, =366=; XLVII 14, =372=; XLVII 21 § 2, =372=; XLVII 9 §§ 3³, 16, =375=; XLVII 11 §§ 9, 10, =375=; XLVIII 19 § 16⁷, =372=; XLVIII 22 § 1, =378=; XLIX 14 § 47¹, =347=, =377=; XLIX 14 § 50, =350=, =363=; XLIX 16 § 5², =372=; XLIX 14 § 3⁶, =376=; XLIX 14, =378=; XLIX 14 § 3¹⁰, =378=; XLIX 14 §§ 47, 50, =378=; L 6 § 6¹¹, =347=, =377=; L 15 § 4⁸, =360=; L 16 § 198, =366=; L 11 § 2, =375=; L 8 § 2¹, =376=; L 16 § 219, =376=; L 1 § 38¹, =377=; L 4 § 4, =377=, =451=; L 5 §§ 10, 11, =378=; L 5 § 1², =392=; L 15 §§ 3, 4, =420=; L 1 § 38⁶, 2 § 1, 4 § 14⁶, =451= =Diodorus=, I 28, 73-4, =29=; II 39, =123=; II 40-1, =210=; V 38 § 1, =2=; XVIII 18, =120=; XVIII 70 § 1, =129=; XX 84, 100, =122=; XXXIV 2 § 26, =162=; XXXIV 2 § 48, =198=; XXXVI =162=; XXXVI 5 § 6, =198= =Dion Cassius=, Fragm 40 § 27, =139=; XLIII 4 § 2, =275=; XLVIII 6 § 3, =240=; LII 27-8, =225=; LXXVI 10, =342=; LXXVII 9 § 5, =389= =Dion Chrysostom=, _orat_ VII =300-3=; X =302=; XIV =302=; XV 15, =302= =Dionysius=, _Rom Ant_ I 36-7, =232=; II 28, cf 8, 9, =210=; III 31, =144=; IV 9, 13, =144=; VI 3, =136=; VI 79, =144=; X 8, 17, =135=; XVII [XVIII] 4, =147=; XIX 15, =138= =Euripides= _Alcestis_ 2, 6, =35=; _Cyclops_ 76 foll, 23-4, =35=; _Electra_ 37-8, 375-6, =33=; 35-9, 73-4, 75-6, 78-81, 203-4, 252, =35=; 360, 394, =36=; _Heraclidae_ 639, 788-9, 890, =37=; _Herc Fur_ 1341-6, =35=; _Orestes_ 918-20, =36=, =102=; _Phoenissae_ 405, =33=; _Rhesus_ 74-5, 176, =37=; _Suppl_ 870, =30=; 420-2, =36=; fragments =33=, =34=, =36=, =37= =Festus=, p 306 (Lindsay), =137= =Florus=, II 7 § 3, =207= =Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum=, (_FHG_), =121= =Frontinus=, _de aquis passim_, =294-6= =Fronto= (Naber), p 29, =284=; 169, =323=; 144, =327=; 35, =330= =Gellius=, II 18, =327=; III 3, =327=; V 3, =327=; XV 4, =327=; XX 1 § 47, =435= =Herodian=, II 4 § 6, =337=; VII 4 §§ 3-6, =341= =Herodotus=, II 141, 164-7, 168, =28=, =29=, =210=; IV 72, =30=; IV 137, =30=; VI 137, =30=; VII 102, =29=; VIII 26, 105-6, =28=, =29=; VIII 68, =28=; VIII 51, =29=; VIII 137, =29=; VIII 142, =30=; VIII 4, 41, 44, 106, =30=; IX 11, 53, 55, =28= =Hesiod=, _Works_, =22-4= =Hipponax=, =25= =Historia Augusta= _Alexander_ 55 §§ 2, 3, =338=; _Antoninus Pius_ 12 § 3, =378=; _Aurelian_ 48 § 2, =337=; 39 § 7, =338=; _Claudius_ (_Gothicus_) 9 §§ 4, 5, =337=; _Commodus_ 17 §§ 7, 8, =347=; _Gallienus_ 9 § 5, =338=; _Hadrian_ 18, =160=, =233=; 7 § 5, =378=; 22 § 6, =418=; _M Aurelius_ 11 § 7, =273=; 21 §§ 6, 7, =324=; _Maximin_ 13 § 4, 14 § 1, =341=; _Probus_ 16 § 6, =337=; 18 §§ 1, 2, =338=; _Severus_ 14 § 2, =378= =Homeric Poems= _Iliad_ =16-17=; _Odyssey_ =17-22= =Horace= _Epistles_ I 12, =207=; I 14, =215=; I 7, =234=; I 15, 45-6, =235=; I 14, 39, =236=; I 16, 69-72, =236=; I 1, 21, =254=; I 18, 36, =295=; II 1, 139-40, =213=; II 2, 177-8, =214=; II 2, 184-6, =236=; _Epodes_ II 3, =214=; II 39 foll, =214=; II =230=; IV =201=, =236=; IV 13, =214=; _Odes_ I 12, =213=; I 1, =214=; I 35, =214=; I 1, =215=; II 15, =200=, =213=; II 15, 18, =213=; II 3, =214=; II 14, =214=; II 16, =214=; III 6, =200=, =213=; III 1, 4, 5, 16, =214=; III 16, =214=; III 2, =215=; III 4, 37-8, =215=, =236=; III 18, =227=; IV 5, 15, =200=, =232=; _Satires_ I 5 77 foll, =214=; I 3, 99 foll, =236=; I 1, 28, 32, =237=; II 6, 6-15, =213=; II 7, 23, =213=; II 2, 115, =214=, =235=; II 6, 55-6, =215=, =236=; II 2, =234=; II 6, =235=; II 7, 118, =235= =Hybrias=, =25= =Hyperides=, fragm =109=, =111= =Inscriptions= CIL I 1034, 1076, 1386, =137=; I 551, =191=; VIII 15454, =275=; VIII 18587, =293=; VIII 14428, =348=; VIII 8425, 8426, 8702, 8777, =357=; Bruns _fontes_ =143=, =175=; Collitz =126=; Dessau 7822-3, =137=; 1334, =275=; 6790, =275=; Dittenberger =126=, =343=, =374=; General reference =312=; Girard, _Textes_ ed 4, =272=, =343=, =389=; Mommsen =374=; _monumentum Ancyranum_ =177=, =237=; Wilmanns =191=, =296=, =408=; Wordsworth, _specimens_ =143=, =175=, =191= =Isaeus= (cited by speeches and sections), V § 39, =85=; VI §§ 19-22, =82=; VI § 33, =84=; VIII § 42, p 73, =47=, =83=; VIII § 35, =82=; XI §§ 41-4, =82=; fragment =84= =Isocrates= (cited by marginal pages in Baiter and Sauppe) _Archidamus_ _passim_ =84=; _Areopagiticus_ 150, =82=; 148, =83=; 150-1, 156, =83=; _Busiris_ 224-5, =29=, =72=; _de bigis_ 349, =81=; _de pace_ 173, 185, =70=; 170, =71=; 178-80, =72=; 183, =82=; 164, =83=; 177, =83=, =84=; _Helen_ 218, =72=; _Panathenaicus_ 271, =75=; 270, =82=; 235, 241, =83=; _Panegyricus_, 46, =81=; 47-8, =83=; 67-8, =83=; 50, =113=; _Philippus_ 91-2, =82=; _Plataicus_ 306, =85=; _Trapeziticus_ 370, =81= =Itineraries=, =293= =Julian=, _orat_ VII =419= =Jurists= (_separately cited_) Gaius I 42-7, =333=; II 7, 21, =293=, =351=; III 145, =255=, =376=; III 142, =365=; Paulus _sent_ I 6 _a_ § 5, =375=; III 6 §§ 38, 40, =300=; V 3 § 4, =375=; Fragmentum Vaticanum § 13, =367= =Juvenal=, I 107-8, =59=, =315=; I 75, =366=; II 73-4, =313=; III 58 foll, =271=; III 223-9, =313=, =316=; IV 25-6, =307=; VI 1-18, =313=; VI 287-95, =313=; VI 149-52, =315=; VII 188-9, =314=; VII 148-9, =328=; VIII 245 foll, =313=; IX 55, =249=; IX 54-5, =314=; IX 59-62, =314=, =315=; X 268-70, =167=; X 356-66, =314=, =316=; X 225-6, =315=; X 19-22, =323=; XI 70-1, =309=; XI 86-9, =313=; XI 77-131, =313=; XI 151 foll, =315=; XI 77-81, =317=; XIV 267-302, =309=; XIV 161-71, =312=; XIV 70-2, =313=; XIV 159-63, =313=; XIV 179-81, =313=; XIV 86-95, 140 foll, 274-5, =315=; XIV 140-55, =315=; XIV 24, =334=; XV 147-58, =313=; XVI 32-4, =313=; XVI 36-9, =315= =Lactantius=, _de mort persecutorum_ 23 § 5, =389=; 7 § 3, =393=; 22-3, =420= =Libanius=, XXIV 16, =395=; XLVII _passim_ =400-2=; L 36, =400= =Livy=, II 23 etc, =133=; II 22 §§ 5-7, =137=; III 13 §§ 8-10, =135=; III 26, =135=; III 27 § 1, =135=; VI 12 § 5, =147=, =156=; VI 12, =239=; VII 4, 5, =145=; VII 25 § 8, =147=, =156=; VII 25, =239=; VIII 20 § 4, =144=; IX 44, =147=; X 4 § 9, =28=; X 36 § 17, =136=; X 26 § 15, 32 § 1, 37, 46 § 16, =147=; XI _epit_, =148=; XVIII _epit_, =139=; XXI 63 §§ 3, 4, =142=; XXII 57 § 11, =142=; XXIII 32 § 15, =141=; XXIII 49 §§ 1-4, =142=; XXIV 18 § 11, =142=; XXV 1 § 4, =141=; XXV 1 § 4, 3 § 8-4 § 11, =142=; XXVI 35 § 5, =141=; XXVI 36, =142=; XXVIII 11 § 9, =141=; XXIX 16 §§ 1-3, =143=; XXXI 13, =143=; XXXIII 42 § 3, =143=; XXXIII 36 § 1, =162=; XXXIV 51 §§ 4-6, =127=; XXXIV 50, =129=; XXXIX 29 §§ 8, 9, 41 § 6, =162=; XLV 18 § 3, =207= =Lucan=, I 158-82, =248=; II 95, =334=; VI 152, =249=; VII 402, =227=; VII 387-439, =248= =Lucian=, _Timon_ 7, 8, =64= =Lucretius=, III 1053-75, =201= =Lycurgus=, p 151, =104= =Lysias=, Or XXII =81=; p 92, =82=; pp 108-9, =82=, =84= =Macrobius=, (_sat_) I 11 § 22, =240= =Martial=, I 55, =306=, =312=; I 85, =312=; I 101, =318=; II 11, =307=; III 47, =306=, =309=; III 58, =309=; III 46, =317=; IV 66, =307=; V 4, =232=; V 35, =309=; VI 73, =308=; VI 29, =318=; VII 31, =306=, =307=, =309=; VII 80, =310=; VII 36, =312=; VIII 61, =306=; IX 18, 97, =306=; IX 2, =308=; IX 35, =309=; IX 92, =317=; X 48, =306=, =312=; X 87, =307=; X 92, =308=; X 14, =309=; X 30, =311=; X 61, =312=; X 85, =312=; X 92, =312=; X 47, =317=; XI 70, =158=, =167=; XI 34, =312=; XI 48, =312=; XII 72, =306=; XII 59, =307=; XII 57, =308=; XIV 49, =317= =Menander=, =63-4=, =124= =Musonius= (_in Stobaeus_), =277= =New Testament Writers= Matt 21 §§ 28-30, =303=; 21 §§ 33-41, =303=; 20 §§ 1-16, =304=; 6 § 12, =305=; 25 §§ 14-30, =305=; Mar 12 §§ 1-9, =303=; Luk 20 §§ 9-16, =303=; 12 §§ 16-9, =304=; 12 §§ 42-8, =304=; 16 §§ 1-12, =304=; 7 § 41, 16 § 5, =305=; 19 §§ 12-26, =305=; Acts 1 § 18, 4 §§ 34-7, =305=; Rom 4 § 4, =304=; I Cor 9 §§ 7-10, =303=; 4 § 2, =304=; Ephes 6 §§ 5 foll, =323=; Coloss 3 §§ 22 foll, =323=; I Tim 5 § 18, =303=; II Tim 2 § 6, =303=; I Pet 2 §§ 18 foll, =323=; James 5 § 4, =304= =Nonius=, p 66 Müller, =173= The ‘=Old Oligarch=’, 1 §§ 3, 5, 10, 11, 12, =38=; 1 §§ 17, 19, =39=; 2 § 14, =39= =Ovid= _fasti_ I 207, III 779-82, IV 693-4, =218=; _metam_ I 135-6, =218= =Palladius=, I 8, 11, 24, 33, =366=; VII 2, =398= =Panegyrici Latini=, V 18, =338=; VIII 11, =390= =Pausanias=, VIII 24 § 13, X 24 § 1, =278= =Persius=, IV 26, =249= =Petronius=, 37, 53, =249=; 77, =251= =Phaedrus=, IV 5, II 8, =243= =Phocylides=, =25= =Plato= (cited by marginal pages) _Laws_ 630 _b_, =71=; 697 _e_, =71=; 850, =71=; 736 _c_, =72=; 936 _c_, =72=; 744 _e_, =72=, =76=; 741, =73=; 737 foll, =76=; 754, =76=; 756, =76=; 919 _d_, =76=; 922 _a_-924 _a_, =76=; 705, =77=; 720, =77=, =79=; 742, =77=, =78=; 745 _c-e_, =77=; 760 _e_, =77=; 763 _a_, =77=; 777 _c_, =77=; 777 _d_-778 _a_, =77=; 793 _e_, =77=; 806 _d_, =77=; 832 _d_, =77=; 838 _d_, =77=; 842 _c-e_, =77=; 846 _d_-847 _b_, =77=; 865 _c_, _d_, =77=; 936 _c-e_, =77=; 690 _b_, =78=; 776-7, =78=; 747 _c_, =79=; 762 _e_, =79=; 823, =79=; 840 _e_, =79=; 886 _a_, =79=; 887 _e_, =79=; 914-5, =80=; 932 _d_, =80=; 777 _d_, =162=; _Menexenus_ 237 _e_, =81=; _Politicus_ 293-7, =76=; 262 _d_, =78=; 289-90, =78=; _Republic_ 565 _a_, _b_, =71=, =72=, =76=, =102=; 421 _e_, =72=; 416 _d_, _e_, =73=; 417, =73=; 421 _d_, =73=; 464 _c_, =73=; 469-71, =73=; 495 _d_, =73=; 522 _b_, =73=; 540 _e_-541 _a_, =73=; 543 _b_, =73=; 590 _c_, =73=; 374 _c_, _d_, =74=; 433-4, =74=; 468 _a_, =74=; 369 _b_-373 _c_, =75=; 463 _b_, =75=; 547 _b_ foll, =76=; 550-2, =76=; 406, =77=; 371, =78=, =375=; 578-9, =78=; 344 _b_, =79=; 423 _b_, 435 _e_-436 _a_, =79=; 544 _d_, =79=; 452 _c_, =79=; 467 _a_, =79=; 495 _e_, =80=; _Timaeus_ 24, =29= =Plautus= _Casina_ 97 foll, =124=; _Mercator_ 65 foll, =124=; _passim_, =124=; _Mostellaria_ 1-83, =124=; _Poenulus_ 170-1, =124=; 944-5, =124=; _Stichus_, title, =137=; _Trinummus_ 508-61, =125=; _Vidularia_ 21-55, =125=; 31-2, =125= =Pliny= (elder) _nat hist_ VIII 180, =229=, =282=, =286=; XIV 48-50, =160=, =265=, =284=; XVIII 20, =135=; XVIII 27-8, =139=, =282=; XVIII 39, =140=; XVIII 35, =151=, =168=, =281=, =282=, =309=; XVIII 29, 30, =154=, =165=; XVIII 41-3, =160=; XVIII 273-4, =160=, =284=; XVIII 32, =166=, =282=; XVIII 1-5, =281=; XVIII 7, 18, 20, =281=; XVIII 19, 21, 36, =281=; XVIII 37-8, =282=; XVIII 11, 26, =283=, =286=; XVIII 12, =283=; XVIII 15 foll, 17, =283=; XVIII 24, =283=; XVIII 174, =284=; XVIII 178, =284=; XVIII 36, =285=; XVIII 38, =286=; XVIII 120, =286=; XVIII 167, =286=; XVIII 170, =286=; XVIII 70, =287=; XVIII 259, =291=; XVIII 296, =398=; XIX 50-1, =231=, =283=; XIX 60, =282=; XXXIII 26-7, =285=; XXXVII 201-3, =239=, =285= =Pliny= (younger) _epistles_ I 24, =217=; I 6, =405=; II 4 § 3, =320=; III 19 § 5, =169=; III 19 § 7, =220=; III 19, =233=, =319=; III 19 § 2, =251=, =264=; III 19 § 6, =255=; III 11, =276=; III 19 § 7, =344=; IV 10, =318=; IV 6, =320=; V 14 § 8, =320=; V 6 § 12, =322=; V 6 § 46 =405=; VI 19, =274=, =319=; VI 3, =318=; VI 25, =322=; VII 18, =296=, =324=; VII 11, 14, =318=; VII 16, 32, =318=; VII 30 § 3, =320=; VIII 17, =312=; VIII 16, =318=; VIII 15, =320=; VIII 2, =322=; VIII 17, =322=; IX 37, =233=, =319=; IX 28, =320=; IX 36 § 6, =320=; IX 37 § 2, =320=, =321=; IX 16, =321=; IX 20 § 2, =321=; IX 37, =321=; IX 37 § 3, =365=; X 8 § 5, =320=, =321=; X 29, 30, =324=; X 86 B, =313=; _Panegyricus_ 42, =244=; 26-8, =273=; 36, =319=; 29, =382= =Plutarch= _apophthegmata_ =127=; _Aratus_ 14, 25, 27, 36, 39, 40, =112=; 24, =117=; 5-8, =128=; 9, 12, 14, =128=; _Cato maior_ 27, =164=; 23, =164=; 4, =165=, =169=; 3-5, 20-1, =165=; 24, =167=, =243=; 5, =167=; 21, =168=, =169=; 25, =169=; 20, =169=; _C Gracchus_ 7, =267=; _Cleomenes_ 18, =120=; _de defectu oraculorum_ 8, =300=; _de garrulitate_ 18, =117=; _Dion_ 27, 37, 48, =128=; _Flamininus_ 13, =129=; _Philopoemen_ 7, 15, =112=; 8, =117=; 13, =120=; 3, 4, =128=; _Phocion_ 28, =120=; _Timoleon_ 23, 36, =128= =Polybius=, I 31 § 4, =140=; II 62, =120=, =122=; IV 63, =118=; IV 66, =118=; IV 75, =118=, =122=; IV 73, =120=, =122=; IV 3, =121=; IV 20, 21, =122=; IV 38, =122=; V 1, 3, 19, =118=; V 89, =118=; IX 17, =121=; X 42, =118=; XII 6, =123=; XVI 24, =118=; XVIII 20, =118=; XX 6, =121=; XXI 6, =118=; XXI 34, 36, 43, 45, =118=; XXIII 1 § 11, =122=; XXV 4, =118=; XXVIII 2, =118=; XXXII 13 §§ 10, 11, =169=; XXXIX 8 §§ 1-5, =129= =Quintilian=, I 4 § 26, =137=; VI 3 § 20, =229=; X 1 §§ 46-131, =268= =Rutilius=, _de reditu_ I 214, =332=; I 527, 615, =412= =Sallust= _Catil_ 4 § 1, =12=, =146=, =199=; 44 §§ 5, 6, 56 § 5, =162=; 37 § 7, =199=; _Iug_ 41 § 8, =144=, =248=; 73 § 6, =175=, =199=; 21, 26, 47, =274=; _hist fragm_ =137= =Salvian=, _de gubernatione Dei_ V §§ 34-50, =424=; V § 18, =425= =Scholia=, =238= =Seneca= (elder), _controvers_ II 1 §§ 5, 26, =242=; V 5, =242=; VI 2, =242=; VII 6 § 17, =167=, =243=; VII 6 § 18, =242=; X 4 § 18, =160=, =232=, =243= =Seneca= (younger) _ad Helviam_ 12 § 5, =139=; 7 § 7, =270=, =349=; 6 §§ 2, 3, =271=; _de beneficiis_ III 22 § 1, =245=; III 26, =244=; V 18 § 2, 19 § 1, =244=; V 19 § 9, =245=; VI 4 § 4, =246=; VII 4 § 4, =244=; VII 5 §§ 2, 3, =247=; _de clementia_ I 18, =244=; _de constantia_ 5 § 1, =245=; _de ira_ III 29 § 1, =248=; _de vita beata_ 17 § 2, =249=; _Epistles_ 87 § 7, 89 § 20, =207=, =248=; 47 § 14, 86 § 14, =216=; 86 § 15, =241=; 77 § 7, =244=; 12 § 3, =245=; 47 § 14, =245=; 65 § 6, =245=; 88 § 21, =245=; 90 § 27, =245=; 90 § 15, =246=; 44 § 3, =246=, =327=; 114 § 26, =246=; 123 § 2, =246=; 90 § 39, =248=, =315=; _nat quaest_ I 16 § 1, =244= =Sidonius Apollinaris= _epist_ I 6, =429=; I 10, =427=; II 2, 9, 14, =427=, =429=; II 9 § 2, =429=; II 14, =429=; III 1, 5, =428=; III 9, =429=; IV 24, =427=, =429=, =430=; IV 9 § 1, =429=; IV 24 § 2, =429=; V 19, =423=, =430=; VI 10, 12, =428=; VII 12 § 3, =427=; VII 14 §§ 11, 16, =429=; VII 15, =429=; VIII 4, =427=, =429=; VIII 8, =429=; VIII 4 § 1, =429=; IX 6, =423=, =430=; _carm_ XXII 121-5, =429= =Solon=, =24-5= =Sophocles= _Antig_ 338-40, =33=; _OT_ 763-4, 1029, =33=; _Trach_ 31-3, 52-3, 61-3, =33=; _fragments_ =33= =Statius=, _silvae_ IV 3, =2=, =272= =Strabo=, VI 4 § 1, p 286, =232=; VIII 8 § 1, p 388, =120=; XII 3 § 40, p 562, =2=; XIV 1 § 38, p 646, =162=; XV 1 § 40, p 704, § 34, p 701, § 54, p 710, =210= =Suetonius= _Aug_ 32, _Tib_ 8, =160=, =232=, =324=, =326=; _Aug_ 41, =225=, =289=, =326=; _Aug_ 27, =313=; _Aug_ 16, 21, 24, 42, =326=; _Aug_ 72, =366=; _Claud_ 22, =287=; _Claud_ 25, =326=; _Domit_ 7, 9, 14, =272=, =327=; _Gaius_ 37, =366=; _Iul_ 42, =131=; _Iul_ 26, 28, =325=; _Nero_ 22, =287=; _Nero_ 31, =326=; _Reliquiae_ (Reifferscheid), =240=, =327=; _Tib_ 48, =289=; _Vespas_ 1, =222=, =326=; _Vespas_ 4, =327= =Sulpicius Severus= _dial_ II 3, =422=; _vita S Martini_ 2 § 5, =423= =Symmachus= _epistles_ I 5, =404=; II 6, 7, 52, 55, =403=; II 22, 52, =405=; II 7, =407=; III 55, 82, =403=; IV 5 [4], 18, 21, 54, 68, 74, =403=; IV 74, =407=; V 18, =405=; VI 15 [14], =403=; VI 82 [81], =404=; VI 11, =405=; VI 12, =406=; VI 59, [58], 65, [64], =407=; VII 18, 38, 66, 68, =403=; VII 56, =404=; VII 38, 66, =405=; VII 126, =406=; VIII 2, =405=; IX 10, 14, 42, 114 [124], =403=; IX 11, =404=, =406=; IX 47 [50], =404=, =407=; IX 140, [X 18], =404=; IX 27 [30], 45 [48], 49 [52], =405=; IX 29, 37 [40], =406=; IX 10, =407=; X 2, 21, =403=; X 6, =404=, =406=; _relationes_ 3 §§ 15-18, 9 § 7, 18, 35, 37, =403=; 9, 18, 37, =403=; 18, =403=; 40, 37, =408= =Tacitus= _Agricola_ 28, =292=, =310=; 19, =391=; _annals_ II 59, =206=; III 53-5, =163=, =283=, =288=; IV 27, =162=, =288=; IV 6, =288=; IV 4, =396=; VI 16, 17, =288=; XI 23, =274=; XII 65, =242=; XIV 27, =210=; XIV 53, =238=; XVI 13, =287=; _Germania_ 41, =270=; 29, =271=; 26, =291=; 24, =291=; 25, =292=; _histories_ I 11, =206=; III 8, =283=; III 24, =313= =Terence= _Adelphoe_ 45-6, 95, 401, 517-20, 541-2, 845-9, 949, =125=; _Hautontimorumenos_ 62-74, =125=, =167=; 93-117, =125=; 142-4, =125=, =167=; _Hecyra_ 224-6, =125=; _Phormio_ 362-5, =125= =Theocritus=, =116-21= =Theophrastus=, _Char_ IV (XIV), =117= =Thucydides=, =49-52= =Tibullus=, II 1 51, 6 25-6, =218=; II 1 41-2, =229=; II 1 23, =235= =Valerius Maximus=, IV 7, =135=; IV 4 §§ 4, 6, =139=, =243=; IV 3 § 5, 4 § 7, 8 § 1, =243=; VII 5 § 2, =14=, =243= =Varro= _de lingua Latina_ VII § 105, =269=; _de re rustica_ I 2 § 17, 17 §§ 5, 7, =158=, =183=; I 17 § 2, =161=, =184=, =233=, =253=, =263=, =437=; I 17 §§ 3-6, =162=, =461=; I 2 §§ 3, 6, =178=, =406=; I 4 § 5, =178=; I 6-16, =180=; I 17, =180=, =239=; I 12 § 2, =180=; I 16 § 4, =180=, =184=, =233=; I 18, =180=; I 2 §§ 13 foll, =184=; I 22 § 1, =185=; I 18 §§ 2, 6, =186=; I 2 §§ 1-7, =232=; I 2 § 17, =233=; I 44 § 1, =265=; I 44 § 3, =291=; II _praef_ § 6, =178=; II 1 § 16, =179=; II 3 § 7, =183=; II _praef_ § 5, =184=, =233=; II _praef_ §§ 3, 4, =184=; II 10 §§ 4, 5, =185=; II 2 § 20, 5 § 18, 7 § 16, 10 § 10, =228=; II 3 § 4, =233=; II 5 § 4, =229=; III 2 § 5, =173=, =186=; III 16 §§ 10, 11, =184=, =230=; III 3 § 4, 17 § 6, =185=; _saturae_ =137= =Vegetius= _epit rei milit_ I 3, II, =417=; I 7, =397=, =417=, =418=; I 5, =418=; I 28, =418=; _mulomed_ I 56 §§ 11-13, =418=; I 56 § 35, =418= =Velleius=, II 8, =225= =Vergil= _Aeneid passim_ =220-1=; III 327, =229=; VI 613, =220=; VII 641-817, =220=; VII 331-2, =230=; VIII 408-12, =221=; IX 603-13, =220=; XII 520, =217=, =221=; _Bucolics_ I, II, III, IX, X, _passim_, =219=; I 40, =229=; II 71-2, =185=; III 101, =228=; VII 4-5, =122=; X 32-3, =122=; _Georgics_ I 266, =185=; I 41, =221=, =230=; I 84 foll, =223=; I _ad fin_, =226=; I 261, =227=; I 272-3, =227=; I 316-7, =227=; I 494, =227=; I 291-302, =230=; I 507, =230=; I 300, =230=; I 125-8, =232=; I 51-3, =267=, =286=; I 71-83, =291=; II 458-74, =222=; II _ad fin_, =226=; II 207, =227=; II 264, =227=; II 410, =227=; II 513, =227=; II 529, =228=; II 529-31, =228=; II 406, =230=; II 433, =230=; II 459, =230=; II 412-3, =231=; II 136-76, =232=; II 336-42, =232=; II 532, =232=; II 198, =236=; III 402, =227=, =265=; III 420, =228=; III 455, =228=; III 515-30, =228=; III 549, =228=; III 167-8, =229=; III 41, =238=; IV 278, =228=; IV 125-46, =230=; IV 118, 147-8, =231=; IV 116 foll, =268=; _Moretum_ =231= =Victor= _Caesares_ 39 § 31, =389=; 13 §§ 5, 6, =391=; _de viris illustribus_ 73 §§ 1, 5, =275= =Vitruvius=, II 1, =218= =Xenophon= _anab_ I 2 § 27, =55=; III 2 § 26, =54=; IV 1 §§ 12-14, =10=; IV 1 §§ 12, 13, =55=; IV 8 § 4, =55=; V 3 § 4, =55=; V 6 § 13, =55=; VI 1 §§ 7, 8, =53=; VI 4 § 8, =54=; VII 1 § 36, =55=; VII 2 § 6, =55=; VII 3 § 3, =55=; VII 3 § 48, =55=; VII 7 § 53, =55=; VII 8 §§ 12-19, =55=; _Cyrop_ IV 4 §§ 5-12, =60=; VII 5 §§ 36, 73, =60=; VII 5 § 67, =60=; VIII 1 §§ 43-4, =60=; VIII 3 §§ 36-41, =60=; _economicus_ 3 §§ 1-5, =57=; 5 §§ 15, 16, =57=; 9 § 5, =57=; 12 § 3, =57=; 12 § 19, =57=; 13 § 9, =57=; 20 §§ 22 foll, =57=; 7-9, 12-14, 21, =57=, =58=; 1 § 4, =58=; 4 § 6, =58=; 5 § 4, =58=; 5 § 6, =58=; 11 §§ 9, 10, =58=; 14 §§ 8, 9, =58=; 20 _passim_, =58=; 21 §§ 9, 10, 12, =59=; _hellen_ I 6 § 14, =55=; II 1 § 1, =53=; VI 2 § 37, =53=; VII 5 § 27, =71=; _memor_ I 1 § 16, =56=; I 2 § 57, =56=; I 5 § 2, =56=; II 7, 8, =55=, =56=; II 7 §§ 7-10, =58=; II 5 § 2, =59=; II 8, =59=, =159=; III 7 § 6, =56=; III 9 §§ 11, 15, =56=; III 13 § 4, =56=; IV 2 §§ 22-31, =56=; _res publ Ath_ [see the ‘old oligarch’]; _vectigalia_ =97=; 4 § 22, =59=; 4 _passim_, =60= =Zosimus=, I 71, =338= IV MODERN AUTHORITIES Adam J, 76 Ashburner, 462-4 Augé-Laribé M, 385 Barker E, 93 Beauchet, 110 Beloch J, 49, 52, 129, 198 Bernays J, 97, 120 Bernier (ed V A Smith), 204 Blümner H, 134, 233, 253, 299 Böckh-Fränkel, 82 Bouchier, 463 Bruns C G, 143, 175, 354 Bryce, Lord, 89 Buckland W W, 350-1, 363, 369, 376 Bury J B, 416, 450, 456, 464 Cairnes J E, 156 Calderini A, 123-4 Champagny, Comte de, 276 Clerc M, 25 Collitz H, 123, 126 Conington J, 223, 227, 291 Conway R S, 241 Cope E M, 35, 99 Cornford F M, 49 Coulanges F de, 321, 347, 354, 358, 361, 365, 369, 375, 379, 383, 392-3, 396, 420-1, 425, 431, 451, 460 Coulton G G, 438, 466 Croiset A, 122 Cuq E, 345, 356 Dareste, Haussoullier, Th Reinach, 27 Daubeny C, 53, 223, 320 Dill S, 395, 397, 416, 423, 427-8, 429-30 Dirksen H E, 392, 396 Dittenberger W, 126, 343, 374 Ducange C D, 428 _Encyclopaedia Biblica_, 435 Esmein A, 342, 354, 357, 360-1, 426, 430-1 Fowler W W, 217 Francotte H, 48, 441 Frazer J G, 278 Freeman E A, 120 Friedländer L, 306 Gardthausen V, 237-9 Girard P F, 272, 295, 342-3, 346, 349-51, 354, 373, 389 Glover T R, 227 Godefroi (Gothofredus), 391, 408 Greenidge A H J, 152-3, 173, 175, 189, 205, 207 Grote G, 76 Grundy G B, 48, 51, 66, 69 Hardy E G, 175, 177, 313, 324 Hastings’ _Dictionary of the Bible_, 435 Heisterbergk B, 178, 205, 342, 358-9, 388 Hill G F, 52 Hirschfeld O, 353-4 Jebb R C, 33 Johnson Clifton, 467 Jordan H, 164-5, 169 Kalinka E, 37, 38 Keightley, 223, 241 King Bolton and Okey T, 13, 457, 465 Krumbacher, 460 Laveleye E de, 75 Linforth J M, 24, 25 Macdonell A, 465 Macgowan J, 204 Madvig J N, 313 Mahaffy J P, 119, 121, 301 Maine H J S, 433, 438 Marquardt, 293 Mayor J E B, 251, 271, 276 Meier-Schömann-Lipsius, 110 Meyer Eduard, 7, 121, 206, 223, 433, 434, 435, 441, 450, 451, 454 Mommsen Th, 126, 152, 167, 206, 237-8, 293, 296-300, 354, 374, 380, 393, 396 Monro C H, 344, 362, 365 Newbigin M L, 467 Newman W L, 65, 67, 68, 85, 98 Nipperdey K, 289 Nissen H, 217, 271 Norden F, 328-35 Pelham H F, 385 Phillips Wendell, 449 Prendergast, 177 Prothero R E, 466 Rapson E J, 210 Rees Sir J D, 210 Reid J S, 274 Richmond, 218 Ritter H and Preller L, 276 Rodway J, 80 Rostowzew M T, 6, 204, 212, 343, 350, 394, 396 Rudorff A, 143 Sandys J E, 11, 91 Schiller H, 272-4, 383, 389, 412, 424 Schneider J G, 263 Schulten A, 345, 347, 351 Schweitzer-Sidler H, 270, 291 Seeck O (ed of Symmachus), 402 Seeck O (History), 339, 340, 345, 348, 360, 386-98, 403, 416, 420-1, 423, 425-6 Seeck O (Schatzungsordnung), 388, 390, 392, 394-5, 410, 421, 431 Seeley J R, 452 Sellar W Y, 226, 228, 232 Shuckburgh E S, 313, 326 Smith V A, 210 Spargo J, 457 Stein H, 30 Storr-Best Ll, 178 The _Times_, 444, 458 Trench Archbishop, 303-4 Tyrrell and Purser, 207 Vinogradoff P, 254, 356, 360, 365 Wagner J A, 396, 412 Wallon H, 110, 131, 173, 255, 300, 359, 395-6, 416 Weber M, 160, 161, 179, 207, 254, 392, 426, 432 Wescher and Foucart, 123 Whitaker’s Almanack, 444 Wilkins A S, 216 Wordsworth J, 143, 175, 191 Wyse W, 85 Zimmern A E, 38, 441 Zulueta, 401-2 V COUNTRIES, PLACES AND PEOPLES Achaia, 50, 117-8, 120-1, 129, 309 Aegina, 52 Aetolia, 10, 117, 122, 126 Africa, 207, 246, 281, 283, 293, 309, 328, 333-4, 341-2, 353, 358, 372, 377, 383, 388, 390, 391, 395, 403, 407, 413, 416, 426, 447 Alexandria, 113-4, 118, 225, 309 Antioch, 390, 399 foll Apollonia, 126 Apulia, 162, 165, 214, 248, 406 Aquinum, 305 Arabia, 375 Aragueni, 347, 374 Arcadia, 9, 29, 50, 117, 121-3 Argos, 26, 29, 50 Ariminum, 405 Armenia, 55 Asia, 162, 180, 323 Asia Minor, 54, 114 Athens and Attica, 8, 9, 11, 25, 29, 30, 31-2, 34, 36, 37-9, 40-7, 49-51, 63-4, 70-1, 76, 81-4, 86, 88, 96, 105-11, 114, 116-7, 120, 282, 302 Bagaudae, 383, 424 Baiae, 309 Bastarnae, 338-9 Bithynia, 324 Boeotia and Thebes, 9, 22, [71], 101, 103-4, 121 Britain, 292, 325, 412, 426, 429 Brundisium, 162 Bruttium, 192 Byzantium, 55, 122, [388] Campania, 177, 198, 390, 404, 406 Capua, 198, 408 Carthage, 118, 126, 132, 151, 164, 204, 353, 358 Cephallenia, 118 China, 204, 209 Chios, 51, 53 Cisalpine, Po country, 14, 152, 163, 220, 228, 240, 286, [296] Constantinople, 388, 403, 408, 416, 460-1 Corcyra, 51, 53, 126, 178 Corinth, 28, 31, 53, 66, 70, 86, 118 Cremona, 141, 152 Crete, 9, 26-7, 101 Dacia, 338 Delphi, 123 Demetrias, 113 Egypt, 20, 28-9, 72, 180, 204, 206-8, 210, 283, 309, 358, 375, 388, 391, 395, 403, 407, 416, 460-2 Elis, 50, 118, 120 Epidamnus, 126 Epirus, 181, 207, 309, 416 Etruria, 14, 27-8, 134, 156, 162, 165, 190-1, 220, 337, 435 Euboea, 52, 300 foll Euxine, 53-5 Formiae, 311 Franks, 338, 412, 424, 426 Gaul, 325, 383, 390, 398-9, 410 foll, 416, 423 foll, 426-31 Gepidae, 338 Germany and Germans, 270-1, 273, 288, 291-2, 387, 410, 412, 414, 416 Goths, 337, 413-4, 416, 424, 426-7, 428 Greece, Roman, 300 foll, 329-33 Gruthungi, 338, 416 Heraclea Pontica, 29, 436 Huns, 416, 424, 427 Illyria, 126 Illyricum, 180, 416 India, 27, 204, 209-10 Ionia, 25 Isauria, 337 Italy and the Provinces, 163, 203-5, 232, [250], 271, 283, 288, 308-9, 323, 365, 380-2, 407 Italy becomes Provincial, 272, [288], 365, 388, 403, 406 Italy, survival of peasantry in upland parts, 14, 163, 182, [184], [216], 220, 222, 239, 284-5, 297, [327] Lamasba, 274, 293 Larisa, 126-7 Lemnos, Imbros, Scyros, 84 Lesbos, 52 Ligures Baebiani, 296 Lucania, 14, 165, 220 Lugudunum, 426-7, 429 Lysimacheia, 113 Macedon, 10, 29, 80-1, 101, 103-5, 117-8, 121-2, 126, 132, 207 Macedonia, 403 Madaura, 328 Mantua, 236 Massalia, 183 Mauretania, 405, 412 Mediolanum, 388 Megalopolis, 117, 120, 122, 129 Megara, 50-1, 66, 82 Messenia, 121 Miletus, 66 Moesia, 338 Narbo, 429 Novum Comum, 281, 322, 324 Oea, 328 Ostia, 309, 405 Patrae, 309 Peiraeus, 38, 46, 79, 88, 90, 96, 100 Persia, 27-8, 54, [60-1], 66, 71, 80, 83, 103, 132, 338 Phoenicians, 20, 435 Picenum, 282 Placentia, 141, 152, 296 Praeneste, 404 Puteoli, 309, 406, 408 Rhineland, 412-3 Rhodes, 114, 118, 122 Roman expansion in Italy, 133-4, 152 Roman history, course of, 10, 11, 200, 203 foll, 211-2, 232, 237-8, 244, 270 foll, 287 foll, 308-9, 313, 323, 336 foll, 379 foll, 386 foll, 415, 426-7, 448-51, 460-4 Rome as political centre, 13, 133, 153, 168, 250, [402-3] Sabine country, 215-7, 232, 234, 327 Samnium, 135, [296], 405 Samos, 105 Samothrace, 82 Sardinia, 126, 403 Saxons, 412 Scaptoparene, 346, 374 Scythia, 30, 32 Sicily, 113-4, 126, 162, 175, [181], 195-8, 204, 207, 246, 405, 447 Sicyon, 128 Slavs, 464 Southern Italy, 190, 388 Spain, 241, 244, 250, 270, 285, 305, 323, 328, 403, 426 Sparta and Laconia, 9, 26, 29, 30, 38, 68-70, 71-2, 75, 82, 86, 95, 100, 103-4, 118, 120, 436 Syracuse, 26-7, 67, 71, 88, 114, 118, 128, 132, 204, 436 Tarracina, 406, 408 Thessaly, 9, 26-7, 83, 86, 101, 116, 126-7, 436 Thrace, 51, 55, 105, 414 Thracian Chersonese, 84, 105 Tibur, 294, 404 Tusculum, 294 Umbria, 327 Vandals, 338, 424 Varia, 215-7 Veleia, 296 Volaterrae, 191 CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY J. B. PEACE, I.A., AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS

Agricola : $b A study of agriculture and rustic life in the Greco-Roman world from the point of view of labour

Heitland, William Emerton

1847

1935

['en']

923

{'Agricultural laborers -- Italy', 'Greece -- Rural conditions', 'Agricultural laborers -- Greece', 'Italy -- Rural conditions', 'Slavery'}

PG74220

Text

and the Online Distributed Proofreading team, using page images supplied by the Universal Library Project at Carnegie Mellon University. <pb id='181.png' n='1950_h2/A/0061' /> RENEWAL REGISTRATIONS--LITERATURE, ART, FILM An alphabetical list under title of all works (with the exception of musical compositions) in which the renewal copyright was registered during the period covered by this catalog. Included in the list are cross-references from all essential names associated with the work and from variant forms of these names. ABC BOOK. Designed and cut on wood by C. B. Falls. © 19Oct23, A765217. R68787, 23Oct50, C. B. Falls. (A) ABBOTT, Elenore Plaisted. SEE The shadowy third and other stories. R68784. THE ABLE MCLAUGHLINS, by Margaret Wilson. © 21Sep23, A760118. R68964, 30Oct50, Margaret Wilson Turner (A) ABOVE THE CLOUDS WITH THE PONY EXPRESS POUCH, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) July 22, 1923 issue. © 22Jul23, A712511. R68080, 6Oct50. THE ABSENCE OF MR. GLASS, by Gilbert K. Chesterton. (In McClure's magazine) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Nov. 1912 issue. © 25Oct12, B259469. R71656, 13Dec50. ACCOLADE, by Amy Lowell. (In Independent) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B575411. R67909, 3Oct50. ACID TEST, by Lloyd Osbourne. (In Everybody's magazine) © Samuel Osbourne (C) June 1912 issue. © 23May12, B255225. R71995, 22Dec50. ACOUSTICS OF BUILDINGS; including acoustics of auditoriums and sound-proofing of rooms, by F. R. Watson. © 28Jun23, A711026. R71101, 30Nov50, Floyd R. Watson (A) ADAMS, Joseph Quincy. SEE A life of William Shakespeare. R71799. ADAMS, Roger. SEE Organic syntheses. R71865. ADAMS, St. Clair. SEE The book of baby verse. R66527. ADCOCK, Arthur St. John. SEE Gods of modern Grub Street: impressions of contemporary authors. R69625. THE ADDING MACHINE, a play in seven scenes by Elmer L. Rice and Philip Moeller, with a foreward by Philip Moeller. The Theatre Guild version with illus. © 6Jul23, D65121. R64199, 10Jul50, Elmer Rice (A) ADVENTURE. © Popular publications, inc. (PCW) v. 38, nos. 2-6, Dec. 20, 1922-Jan. 30, 1923. © 6Nov22, B551196; 16Nov22, B551884; 1Dec22, B553924; 7Dec22, B553497; 18Dec22, B567525. R69095-69099, 1Nov50. <pb id='182.png' /> v. 39, nos. 1-6, Feb. 10-Mar. 30, 1923. © 2Jan23, B567184; 5Jan23, B567526; 22Jan23, B569202; 1Feb23, B569526; 5Feb23, B569646; 19Feb23, B571231. R69100-69105, 1Nov50. v. 40, nos. 1-6, Apr. 10-May 30, 1923. © 28Feb23, B571407; 12Mar23, B572222; 22Mar23, B573170; 5Apr23, B574184; 9Apr23, B574349; 19Apr23, B575086. R69106-69111, 1Nov50. v. 41, nos. 1-6, June 10-July 30, 1923. © 30Apr23, B575880; 10May23, B576740; 16May23, B577170; 28May23, B577916; 5Jun23, B578417; 20Jun23, B579486. R69112-69117, 1Nov50. v. 42, no.3. 1-6, Aug. 10-Sept. 30, 1923. © 30Jun23, B580262; 9Jul23, B580837; 19Jul23, B581737; 2Aug23, B582633; 8Aug23, B583088; 23Aug23, B583912. R69118-69123. 1Nov50. v. 43, nos. 1-6, Oct. 10-Nov. 30, 1923. © 4Sep23, B584848, 8Sep23, B585123; 20Sep23, B586126; 1Oct23, B586826; 8Oct23, B587442; 18Oct23, B588064. R69124-69129, 1Nov50. v. 44, no. 1, Dec. 10, 1923. © 31Oct23, B589017. R69130, 1Nov50. THE ADVENTURE OF THE CREEPING MAN, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (In Hearst's international) © Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lene Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) Mar. 1923 issue. © 20Feb23, B570273. R65266, 26Jul50. THE ADVENTURE OF THE MAZARIN STONE, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (In Hearst's international) © Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) Nov. 1921 issue. © 20Oct21, B503837. R65265, 26Jul50. ADVENTURES IN JOURNALISM, by Sir Philip Gibbs. © 26Oct23, A760572. R68969, 30Oct50, Sir Philip Gibbs (A) ADVENTURES IN MY GARDEN AND ROCK GARDEN, by Louise Beebe Wilder. © 2Nov23, A765215. R69609, 6Nov50, Walter Beebe Wilder (C) & Mrs. Harrison Wilder Taylor (C) ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR DOLITTLE, by Hugh Lofting. (In New York tribune) © Josephine Lofting (W) July 8, 1923 issue. © 8Jul23, B562249. R69627, 6Nov50. July 15, 1925 issue. © 15Jul23, B562256. R69625, 6Nov50. July 22, 1923 issue. © 22Jul23, B562263. R69629, 6Nov50. July 29, 1923 issue. © 29Jul23, B562270. R69630, 6Nov50. Aug. 5, 1923 issue. © 5Aug23, B562277. R69631, 6Nov50. Aug. 12, 1923 issue. © 12Aug23, B562284. R69632, 6Nov50. <pb id='183.png' /> Aug. 19, 1923 issue. © 19Aug23, B562291. R69633, 6Nov50. Aug. 26, 1923 issue. © 26Aug23, B562298. R69634, 6Nov50. Sept. 2, 1923 issue. © 2Sep23, B562305. R69635, 6Nov50. Sept. 9, 1923 issue. © 9Sep23, B562312. R69636, 6Nov50. Sept. 16, 1923 issue. © 16Sep23, B562319. R69637, 6Nov50. Sept. 23, 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, B562326. R69638, 6Nov50. THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN, by Mark Twain [pseud. of Samuel Langhorne Clemens] Illustrated by Worth Brehm. © on illus.; 20Nov23, A759941. R70404, 21Nov50, The Mark Twain Co. (PWH) THE ADVOCATE, a play in three acts by Eugene Brieux. English version by George Middleton. © 27Feb23, D63768. R69548, 9Nov50, George Middleton (A) AFTER ALL, by George F. Hummel. © 29May23, A704830. R67274, 18Sep50, George F. Hummel (A) AGAINST THIS AGE, by Maxwell Bodenheim. © 9Nov23, A766340. R71180, 7Dec50, Maxwell Bodenheim (A) AGRICULTURE FOR SOUTHERN SCHOOLS, by John Frederick Duggar. Rev. ed. (The rural text book series) © on new material; 23Jan23, A698032. R70275, 22Nov50, Frances Duggar (C) & Dorothy Duggar (C) AIMEE, par Jacques Riviere. © 7Nov22, AF21438. R66912, 12Sep50, Mme. vve. Isabelle Riviere, née Isabelle Alain-Fournier (W) AINSLEE'S. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 51, nos. 4-6, June-Aug. 1923. © 15May23, B576495; 15Jun23, B578390; 13Jul23, B580288. R65420-65422, 10Aug50. v. 52, nos. 1-3, Sept.-Nov. 1923. © 15Aug23, B583441; 15Sep23, B585379; 15Oct23, B587468. R70169-70171, 16Nov50. AKELEY, Carl Ethan. SEE In brightest Africa. R68786. ALABAMA. SEE Report of cases argued and determined in the Supreme Court of Alabama during the October term, 1921-1922. R64310. ALARM CLOCK, a comedy in three acts adapted by Avery Hopwood. Based upon the French play "Sonnette D'Alaime" by Maurice Hennequin and Romain Coolus. © 20Jul23, D65085. R65202, 2Aug50, City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) <pb id='184.png' n='1950_h2/A/0062' /> ALASKA REPORTS, edited, arr. and digested by James Wickersham; with key number annotations. v. 6, Jan. 1, 1918-Jan. 1, 1923. © 23Jun23, A752266. R64319, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) THE ALASKAN, by James Oliver Curwood, with illus. by Walt Louderback. © 1Aug23, AA71442. R66225, 9Aug50, Mrs. James Oliver Curwood (W) ALBERT, C. D. SEE Machine design drawing room problems. R71862. ALDRICH, Thomas Bailey. SEE The story of a bad boy. R69687. ALEXANDER, Harold D. SEE Bender's hand book for grand jurors. R64829. ALEXANDER'S BRIDGE, by Willa Sibert Cather. New ed. with a pref. © on new ed.; 25Oct22, A683989. R64987, 31Jul50, Edith Lewis (E) & The City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) ALIAS the deacon. SEE Woods. R69225. ALIAS THE NIGHT WIND, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 19Aug23, L19335. R68434, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ALI-Bab, pseud. SEE Babinski, Henri. ALIGHIERI, Dante. SEE Dante Alighieri. ALL ALONE SUSIE, a whimsical comedy in 3 acts by Lea David Freeman. © 16Jul23, D65048. R64656, 21Jul50, Lea David Freeman (A) ALL MINE, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172700. R64065, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT, a photoplay in seven reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 10Jan23, L18742. R71808, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) ALLEN, Hervey. SEE Carolina chansons. R70165. ALLINGHAM, Margery. SEE Blackerchief Dick. A tale of Mersea Island. R68147. ALONSO, Francisco. SEE Alonso López, Francisco. ALONSO López, Francisco. SEE Manolita la inclusera. R64476. ÁLVAREZ Quintero, Joaquín. SEE Las vueltas que da el mundo. R64478. ÁLVAREZ Quintero, Serafin. SEE Les vueltas que da el mundo. R64478. AM ENDE DER WELT, ein Drama in 3 Akten von Ernst Klein. © 18Aug22, D61709. R64132, 3Jul50, Ernst Klein (A) AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS, edited by Louise Pound. (The Modern student's library, American division) © 27Oct22, A683997. R65662, 8Aug50, Louise Pound (A) AMERICAN Bank Note Company. SEE The Bell Telephone Co. of Penna. R70577. C-1891. R70578 Canal do Mangue ... R64702. Dr. Sun Yet Sen ... R64700. Gloria Hill ... R64699. Monumento do Ypiranga ... R64698. Palacio da liberdade ... R64701. <pb id='185.png' /> The Philadelphia and Reading Coal and Iron Company. R65376. Reading Company. R67672. Ship loading. R64703. AMERICAN DIGEST ANNOTATED. (American digest system, key number series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 16A, Oct. 1, 1922-Feb. 28, 1923. © 21Jul23, A760933. R68274, 13Oct50. AMERICAN DIGEST MONTHLY ADVANCE SHEETS. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 16a, no. 390, Mar. 1923. © 5Apr23, B574726. R64320, 10Jul50. v. 17a, nos. 391-392, Apr.-May 1923 © 14May23, B577208; 13Jun23, B579219. R64321-64322, 10Jul50. v. 17a, nos. 393-394, v. 18a, no. 395, June-Aug. 1923. © 13Jul23, B581678; 21Aug23, B584033; 21Sep23, B586159. R68292-68294, 13Oct50. AMERICAN DIGEST SYSTEM 1916. 2d decennial ed. of the American Digest. v. 24. © 3Jul23, A760926. R68267, 13Oct50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) THE AMERICAN HEREFORD JOURNAL. © Walker Publications, inc., formerly The Hereford Journal Co. (PCW) v. 14, no. 6, July 15, 1923. © 16Jul23, B581323. R65943, 14Aug50. THE AMERICAN LANGUAGE, by H. L. Mencken. 3d rev. ed. © 30Mar23, A704457. R71048, 4Dec50, H. L. Mencken (A) AMERICAN Law Book Company. SEE Corpus juris. R64311 ... Principles and practice of legal research. R64317. AMERICAN PALATES INFALLIBLE. (Coffee) © 10Nov22, Print 6567. R69085, 31Oct50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. AMERICAN POEMS AND OTHERS, by J. C. Squire. © 20Jul23, A711283. R65126, 24Jul50, J. C. Squire (A) THE AMERICAN RHYTHM, by Mary Austin. © 23Feb23, A696525. R69657, 9Nov50, Harry P. Mera (E), Kenneth M. Chapman (E) & Mary C. Wheelright (E) THE AMERICAN Society of Biological Chemists, inc. SEE The Journal of biological chemistry. AMERICANS, by Stuart P. Sherman. © 24Nov22, A692314. R68254, 13Oct50, Ruth Sherman (W) L'AMOUR MASQUE, comédie musicale en trois actes de Sacha Guitry. Musique de André Messager. Partition piano et chant. © 24Apr23, D26439. R69897, 1Nov50, Jean Messager (C) ANALYTIC GEOMETRY, by Clyde E. Love. © 19Jan23, A696076. R70296, 24Nov50, Clyde E. Love (A) AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER, by Henry Payson Dowst. Rev. ed. © on revisions throughout text; 20Dec22, A693927. R67955, 25Sep50, Peggy Dowst (C) AND RIGHT IN AMONG THOSE SHARKS WAS QUEEQUEG, who often pushed them aside with his floundering feet, by mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169287. R67340, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) AND SO I THINK, DIOGENES; by Amy Lowell. (In Yale review) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 1923 issue. © 13Dec22, B553842. R67412, 20Sep50. ANDERSON, MADGE. SEE The cook's surprise. R67964. <pb id='186.png' /> ANDERSON, Paul Lewis. SEE Pictorial photography. R71678. ANDERSON, Sherwood. SEE Broken. R64027. Horses and man. R69435. Many marriages. R64024 The sad horn blowers. R64025. The triumph of a modern. R64026. ANDERSON (W. K.) Company. SEE The Virginia and West Virginia judicial dictionary-digest. R66224 ... ANDREWS, Charlton. SEE Jurgen. R64654. ANDREWS, Mary Raymond (Shipman) SEE Yellow butterflies. R71089. ANIMA ALLEGRA (THE JOYOUS SOUL), a play in three acts. Italian version by Guiseppe Adami; English version by R. H. Elkin. Founded on Genio alegro by Fratelli Quintero. [English version of libretto] © 6Nov22, D62696. R68569, 20Oct50, Mrs. R. H. Elkin (W) ANIMAL PERSONALITIES, by Samuel A. Derieux. © 7Sep23, A760028. R67004, 13Sep50, Mary Derieux (W) ANNA KARENINA, Oper In 3 Aufzügen (vier Bildern) von Alexandar Goth, Deutsch von Hans Liebstoeckl. Musik von Jeno Hubay, Op.112. klavierauszug von A. Szikla. © 7Nov22, DP220. R67406, 15Sep50, Andor v, Hubay-Cebrian (C), Tibor v. Hubay-Cebrian (C) THE ANNOUNCEMENT, by Eda S. Doench. (725) © 22Jun23, K176192. R64076, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) ANN'S AN IDIOT, by Pamela Wynne [Mrs. Herbert Scott] © 18Sep23, A760012. R69626, 6Nov50, Mrs. Herbert Scott (A) ANSWERS TO PROBLEMS IN TECHNICAL MATHEMATICS volume I, and suggestions for teaching; by Harry M. Keal, Nancy S. Phelps and Clarence J. Leonard. © 3Aug25, A711605. R71102, 30Nov50, Harry H. Keal (A), Nancy S. Phelps (A) & Clarence J. Leonard (A) ANSWERS TO PROBLEMS IN TECHNICAL MATHEMATICS volume 2, and suggestions for teaching; by Harry M. Keal, Nancy S. Phelps and Clarence J. Leonard. © 3Aug23, A711606. R71103, 30Nov50, Harry M. Keal (A), Nancy S. Phelps (A) & Clarence J. Leonard (A) ANTHROPOLOGY, the science of man and his ancestors, by Loomis Havemeyer. (The popular science library, v. 15) © 15Dec22, A692489. R66321, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) ANTI-FOULING BOAT BOTTOM PAINT. © 3Apr23, Label 25947. R68209, 9Oct50, Westcott, Slade & Balcom Co. (P) ANTIC HAY, by Aldous Huxley. © 9Nov23, A766125. R70409, 21Nov50, Aldous Huxley (A) ANTIQUES. © Editorial Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 3, no. 6, June 1923. © 31May23, B578125. R65247, 3Aug50. v. 4, nos. 1-2 July-Aug 1923. © 29Jun23, B580295; 30Jul23, B582270. R66792-66793, 3Aug50. v. 4, nos. 3-6, Sept.-Dec, 1923. © 31Aug25, B584532; 30Sep23, B586698; 30Oct23, B589147; 30Nov23, B603636. R72010-72013, 28Dec50. <pb id='187.png' n='1950_h2/A/0063' /> ANTOLOGIA DE CUENTOS ESPANOLES; edited with exercises, notes and vocabulary by John M. Hill and Erasmo Buceta. (Heath's modern language series) © 23Apr23, A705217. R67302, 20Sep50, John M. Hill (A) & Erasmo Buceta (A) ANTON CHEHOV; a critical study, by William Gerhardi. © 27Nov23, A765386. R71202, 5Dec50, William Gerhardi (A) APPLE SAUCE, a photoplay In two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 24Jun23, L19196. R65956, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) APPLEGARTH, Margaret T. SEE more short missionary plays. R66673. short missionary plays. R66672. Some boys and girls In America. R66669. APPLETON-Century-Crofts, inc. SEE The century. St. Nicholas magazine. APPLIED MECHANICS, by Alfred P. Poorman. 2d ed. © 17May23, A704632. R67311, 18Sep50, Alfred P. Poorman (A) APRIL Productions, Inc. SEE Maggie. R64008. ARABIA'S LAST ALARM, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 2Nov23, L19654. R71023, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ARCHER, C. SEE The bridal wreath. R64218. ARCHER, William. SEE The old drama and the new. R66919. ARCHER OF THE OLD ARMY, by R. H. Platt, jr. (In the Minneapolis Journal) © Rutherford H. Platt, Jr. (A) Sept. 2, 1923 issue. © 2Sep23, B585186. R66791, 6Sep50. Sept. 9, 1923 issue. © 9Sep23, B585829. R67010, 13Sep50. Sept. 16, 1923 issue. © 16Sep23, B585949. R67372, 20Sep50. Sept. 23, 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, B586875. R67539, 26Sep50. Sept. 30, 1923 issue. © 29Sep23, B587401. R67973, 6Oct50. Oct. 7, 1923 issue. © 7Oct23, B588448. R68157, 11Oct50. Oct. 14, 1923 issue. © 14Oct23, B587999. R68483, 17Oct50. Oct. 21, 1923 issue. © 21Oct23, B588542. R69268, 27Oct50. Oct. 28, 1923 issue. © 28Oct23, B589074. R69269, 31Oct50. ARCHY AND THE OLD 'UN, by Don Marquis. (In the New York tribune) © Bernice Maud Marquis (E) July 21, 1923 issue. © 21Jul23, B562262. R65132, 24Jul50. ARCHY INSISTS, by Don Marquis. (In the New York tribune) © Bernice Maud Marquis (E) Aug. 7, 1923 issue. © 7Aug23, B562279. R65643, 8Aug50. ARDEN, Clive. pseud. SEE Nutt, Lily Clive. ARE WAITRESSES SAFE? A photoplay In two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 11Sep23, L19405. R69373, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) AREN'T WE ALL, a play in three acts by Frederick Lonsdale. © 11Aug23, D65215. R67220, 18Sep50, Frederick Lonsdale (A) <pb id='188.png' /> ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. © Popular Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 147, nos. 1-6, Nov. 11-Dec, 16, 1922. © 9Nov22, B551216; 16Nov22, B551716; 23Nov22, B552476; 30Nov22, B552829; 7Dec22, B553379; 14Dec22, B553860. R69131-69136, 1Nov50. v 148 nos. 1-6 Dec 23, 1922-Jan 27, 1923. © 21Dec22, B554526; 28Dec22, B554912; 4Jan23, B567291; 11Jan23, B567794; 18Jan23, B568359; 25Jan23, B568848. R69137-69142, 1Nov50. v. 149, nos. 1-6, Feb. 3-Mar. 10 1923. © 1Feb23, B569220; 8Feb23, B569826; 15Feb23, B570247; 21Feb23, B570718; 1Mar23, B571281; 8Mar23, B571897. R69143-69148, 1Nov50. v, 150, nos. 1-6, Mar. 17-Apr. 21, 1923. © 15Mar23, B572362; 22Mar23, B573066; 29Mar23, B573412; 5Apr23, B574027; 12Apr23, B574441; 19Apr23, B575121. R69149-69154, 1Nov50. v. 151, nos. 1-6, Apr. 28-June 2, 1923. © 26Apr23, B575554; 3May23, B576156; 10May23, B576552; 17May23, B577060; 24May23, B577555; 31May23, B578055. R69155-69160, 1Nov50. v. 152, nos. 1-6, June 9-July 14, 1923. © 7Jun23, B578520; 14Jun23, B578987; 21Jun23, B579428; 28Jun23, B579852; 5Jul23, B580423; 12Jul23, B580941. R69161-69166, 1Nov50. v. 153, nos. 1-6, July 21-Aug. 25, 1923. © 19Jul23, B581418; 26Jul23, B581819; 2Aug23, B582339; 9Aug23, B582774; 16Aug23, B583347; 23Aug23, B583741. R69167-69172, 1Nov50. v. 154, nos. 1-6, Sept. 1-Oct. 6, 1923. © 30Aug23, B584313; 6Sep23, B584714; 13Sep23, B585362; 20Sep23, B585914; 27Sep23, B586293; 4Oct23, B586877. R69173-69178, 1Nov50. v. 155, nos. 1-4, Oct. 13-Nov. 3, 1923. © 11Oct23, B587614; 18Oct23, B587852; 25Oct23, B588504; 1Nov23, B588871. R69179-69182, 1Nov50. ARIEL; ou LA VIE DE SHELLEY, par André Maurois [original name: Emile Salomon Wilhelm Herzog] (Les Cahiers verts, 22) © 31May23, AF23026. R65745, 1Aug50, André Maurois, ps. de Emile Herzog (A) ARISTOTLE'S bellows. R67118. SEE Three wonder plays. ARLEN, Michael. SEE Cavalier of the streets. R70750. ARMAN de Caillavet, Gaston. SEE Cydalise et le chevre-pied. R69900. ARON, Harold G. SEE Aron's digest of new York real property law. R65503. ARON'S DIGEST OF NEW YORK REAL PROPERTY LAW, by Harold G. Aron. © 9Jul23, A711167. R65503, 10Aug50, Harold G. Aron (A) AROUND AN IROQUOIS STORY FIRE, by Mabel Powers (Yehsennohwehs) With illus. by R. Emmet Owen. © 22Jun23, A704976. R68981, 27Oct50, Mabel Powers (A) ART ALPHABETS AND LETTERING, by J. M. Bergling. 4th ed., enl., 1923. © 2Apr23, A705063. R65714, 16Aug50, Virginia C. Bergling (C) THE ART MASTER OF NORYMBERG (Wit Stwosz), a drama in 5 acts by Vincent Rapacki. Translated by Joseph Francis Gizinski. © 30Mar23, D64093. R63891, 5Jul50, Joseph Francis Gizinski (A) THE ART OF COLOUR, by Michel Jacobs. © 1Aug23, A752508. R65245, 3Aug50, Michael Jacobs (A) <pb id='189.png' /> THE ART OF WRITING OPERA-LIBRETTOS. practical suggestions, by Edgar Istel; translated from the German by Th[eodore] Baker. © 7Aug22, A681476. R64802, 25Jul50, G. Schirmer, inc. (PWH) ARTSYBASHEV, Mikhail Petrovich. SEE Jealousy; Enemies; The law of the savage. R71178. ASHFORD, Daisy. SEE Daisy Ashford: her book. R65982. The young visitors. R65983. ASHFORD, Margaret Mary. SEE Ashford, Daisy ASSOCIATION of the United States Army. SEE Infantry journal. ASSORTED CHOCOLATES, by Octavus Roy Cohen; front. by J. E. Gould. © 9Sep22, A683179. R65757, 8Aug50, Octavus Roy Cohen (A) ASTRONOMY, the science of the heavenly bodies, by David Todd. (The Popular science library, v. 2) © 15Dec22, A692479. R66312, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) ATLANTIC REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 119, nos. 12-13, Apr. 5-12. 1923. © 5Apr23, B574110; 12Apr23, B575588. R64323-64324, 10Jul50. v. 120, nos. 1-10, Apr. 19-June 21, 1923. © 18Apr23, B575453; 26Apr23, B575829; 4May23, B576297; 9May23, B576783; 16May23, B577723; 23May23, B577972; 31May23, B581221; 5Jun23, B578747; 13Jun23, B579220; 20Jun23, B579682. R64325-64334, 10Jul50. v. 121, no. 1, June 28, 1923. © 27Jun23, B580224. R64335, 10Jul50. v. 121, nos. 2-12, July 5-Sept. 27, 1923. © 5Jul23, B580731; 13Jul23, B581081; 19Jul23, B581679; 25Jul23, B582184; 2Aug23, B582687; 22Aug23, B584034; 30Aug23, B584510; 6Sep23, B585278; 12Sep23, B585614; 19Sep23, B586160; 26Sep23, B586682. R68295-68305, 13Oct50. ATLANTIC REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 119, Jan. 18-Apr. 12, 1923. © 25May23, A752272. R64336, 10Jul50. v. 120, Apr. 19-June 21, 1923. © 31Aug23, A760930. R68271, 13Oct50. ATLAS OF HUMBOLDT COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, by Belcher Abstract and Title Company. © Belcher Abstract & Title Co. (PWH) Sheet no. 19. © 28Aug22, F38352. R66306, 28Aug50. Sheet no. 20. © 23Oct22, F38606. R68697, 23Oct50. Sheet no. 21. © 23Oct22, F38607. R68698, 23Oct50. Sheet no. 24. © 28Aug22, F38353. R66307, 28Aug50. ATTERIDGE, Harold Richard. SEE Passing show of 1923. R65882. AUMONIER, Stacy. SEE Miss Bracegirdle and others. R68780. AUNT POLLY'S STORY OF MANKIND, by Donald Ogden Stewart. © 9Nov23, A766108. R70033, 10Nov50, Donald Ogden Stewart (A) AUSPICES 43-48 inclusive; Instruction 22; Program of righteousness 44-47 inclusive, by George Edwin Burnell. v. 1. © 11Dec22, A696001. R67129, 14Sep50, Genevieve Burnell Forgey (C) <pb id='190.png' n='1950_h2/A/0064' /> AUSTIN, Mary (Hunter) SEE The American rhythm. R69657. AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT, by William Butler Yeats. (In the Dial) © Bertha Georgie Yeats (A) July 1923 issue. © 30Jun23, B580497. R71597, 8Dec50. THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; illustrated by Kleber Hall. (Riverside bookshelf) © on illus.; 11Oct23, A760465. R69685, 9Nov50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) AUTOLYCUS, pseud. SEE Bacon, Leonard. AUTOMOBILE MONOGRAMS [STYLE CHART] by John Mauritz Bergling. Plate 8. © 2Jan23, A697638. R65712, 16Aug50, Virginia C. Bergling (C) LES AVARIES; LES HANNETONS; LA PETITE AMIE. Par Eugène Brieux. (Hie Théâtre complet, t. 6) © 5Sep23, AF23498. R68410, 13Oct50, Jean Charles Courtois-Brieux (NK) AYRES, Ruby Mildred. SEE The romance of a rogue. R68153. BAA, BAA, BLACK SHEEP, a comedy in four acts by Elmer L. Rice. © 26Oct23, D65861. R70805, 30Nov50, Elmer L. Rice (A) BABBITT, Ellen C. SEE More Jataka tales. R68916. BABINSKI, Henri. SEE La gastronomie pratique. R64182. BACHELET, Alfred. SEE Quand la cloche sonnera. R69895. BACHELOR, Joseph Morris. SEE The book of baby verse. R66527. BACK-TRAILING ON THE OLD FRONTIERS, by Harry Percy Raban; drawings by Charles M. Russell. © Albertine Raban (W) (In Bellingham Sunday reveille, July 23, 1922) © 23Jul22, A646177. R64657, 21Jul50. (In Bellingham Sunday reveille, July 30, 1922) © 30Jul22, A646178. R64658, 21Jul50. (In Bellingham Sunday reveille, Aug. 6, 1922) © 6Aug22, A646179. R64659, 21Jul50. (In the Great Falls tribune. July 16, 1922) © 16Jul22, A646176. R64052, 14Jul50. (In the Great Falls tribune, Aug. 13, 1922) © 13Aug22, A646180. R64660, 21Jul50. BACON, Josephine Daskam. SEE Blind Cupid. R72266. Truth o' women. R72267. BACON, Leonard. SEE Ulug Beg. R71327. BAILEY, Alice Cooper. SEE Katrina and Jan. R63904. BAKER, A. G. SEE Webster's new international dictionary of the English language. R66345. BAKER, Horace S. SEE Foundations, abutments and footings. R67314. BAKER, Theodore. SEE The art of writing opera-librettos. R64802. BALDWIN, William Edward. SEE Baldwin's law students' vade-mecum. R68100. <pb id='191.png' /> BALDWIN'S LAW STUDENTS' VADE-MECUM, by William Edward Baldwin. 2d ed. © on uniform commercial laws, canons of ethics and additions; 28May23, A705636. R68100, 9Oct50, William Edward Baldwin (PWH) BALL, Alice E. SEE Bird biographies. R66920. BALLANTINE, Henry Winthrop. SEE Handbook of common law pleading. R64355. BALLANTINE, William Gay. SEE The Riverside New Testament; a translation from the original Greek into the English of today. R69675. BALLARD, Fred. SEE Ballard, Frederick. BALLARD, Frederick. SEE A rainy day. R67238. BALLARD, John Frederick. SEE Ballard, Frederick. BANCROFT, Samuel Putnam. SEE Mrs. Eddy as I knew her in 1870. R64561. BANDIT OF THE BLACK HILLS, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Apr. 28, 1923 issue. © 25Apr23, B575472. R69437, 1Nov50. May 5, 1923 issue. © 2May23, B575473. R69438, 1Nov50. May 12, 1923 issue. © 9May23, B576493. R69439, 1Nov50. May 19, 1923 issue. © 16May23, B576494. R69440, 1Nov50. May 26, 1923 issue. © 23May23, B577569. R69441, 1Nov50. June 2, 1923 issue. © 29May23, B577570. R69442, 1Nov50. BANK of America, New York. SEE Robin Hood. R68208. BANNERTAIL, the story of a gray squirrel, by Ernest Thompson Seton, with drawings by the author. © 27Oct22, A686998. R65672, 8Aug50, Grace Galletin Seton (W) BANTA, Nathaniel Moore. SEE Busy little Brownies. R71573. Fairies of the nine hills. R71575. THE BARBARIAN LOVER, by Margaret Pedler. Pub. abroad in 9 instalments in Harmsworth red magazine, Mar. 30-July 20, 1923 issues. © 22Oct23, (pub. abroad 30Mar23, AI-5059; 13Apr23, AI-5088; 27Apr23, AI-5130; 11May23, AI-5170; 25May23, AI-5212; 8Jun23, AI-5246; 22Jun23, AI-5285; 6Jul23, AI-5329; 20Jul23, AI-5357), A760503. R69246-69254, 27Oct50, Flora Mabel Warhurst (E) & Harold Pincott (E) BARNES, Djuna. SEE A book. R71176. BARNUM, by Morris R. Werner. © 29Mar23, A704011. R69314, 30Oct50, Morris R. Werner (A) BAROJA y Nessi, Pio. SEE Weeds. R71952. BARR, John H. SEE Elements of machine design. R71098. BARRATT, Louise Bascom. SEE The buss. R64009. The remuddled house. R64006. BARRERA Saavedra, Tomás. SEE El niño de la suerte. R64477. <pb id='192.png' /> BARRIE, Sir James Matthew, Bart. SEE The young visitors. R65983. BARTLETT, Frederick Orin SEE Big laurel. R67405. BARTON, Francis B. SEE Harper's French anthology. R68951. BARTON, Wilfred M. SEE Medicine. R66317. BARTSCH, Hans. SEE Der Gatte des Fraeuleins. R69082. BAU, Mingchien Joshua. SEE Pao, Ming-ch'ien. BAXTER, George Owen, pseud. SEE Faust, Frederick. BAYLIES, Edwin. SEE New trials and appeals. R64827. BAZIN, René. SEE Il était quatre petits enfants. R68406. BE KIND TO A MAN WHEN HE IS DOWN, by "Fiddlin" John Carson. © 20Oct23, A762401. R68667, 23Oct50, Maggie Fitch (C) BEACH, Rex Ellingwood. SEE Big brother. R64589. Big Brother and other stories. R68806. BEACH, Robin. SEE Electricity and magnetism. R66316. BEARD, Charles Austin. SEE Cross currents in Europe today. R67370. BEARD, Daniel C. SEE The black wolf pack. R68242. THE BEAUTIFUL AND DAMNED, a photoplay in seven reels by Warner Bros. © 1Dec22, L18672. R68099, 6Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) THE BEAUTY WHICH GLOWS FROM WITHIN. (Chocolate) © 7Nov22, Print 6513. R66078, 23Aug50, Eline's, inc. (P) BECAUSE OF BEAUTY, by Angela Morgan. © 28Oct22, A683961. R66917, 8Sep50, Angela Morgan (A) BECK, Eliza Louisa Moresby. SEE Beck, Lily (Moresby) Adams. BECK, James Montgomery. SEE The Supreme Court of the United States. R70596. BECK, L. Adams. SEE Beck, Lily (Moresby) Adams. BECK, Lily (Moresby) Adams. SEE The key of dreams. R67697. The ninth vibration. R67696. BEDROOM SUITE, by Christopher Morley. (In Outlook) © Christopher Morley (A) Jan. 10, 1923 issue. © 5Jan23, B567359. R71687, 14Dec50. THE BEDTIME STORY, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172705. R64070, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) BEER, Thomas. SEE Stephen Crane: a study in American letters. R69479. BEERS, Clifford Whittingham. SEE A mind that found itself. R65129. BEHIND THE SCREEN, by Samuel Goldwyn. © 26Oct23, A760687. R69255, 27Oct50, Samuel Goldwyn (A) <pb id='193.png' n='1950_h2/A/0065' /> BEITH, John Hay. SEE The cure. R71427. Fowl play. R71426. Locum tenens. R71425. The lucky number. R71674. Natural causes. R71424. Ocean air. R71428. Petit-Jean. R71422. The willing horse. R71423. BEL AMI, by Guy de Maupassant; translated by Ernest Boyd. (The collected novels and stories of Guy de Maupassant, v. 7) © 19Oct23, A760580. R71949, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf (PWH) BELASCO, David. SEE The comedian. R65929. BELCHER Abstract and Title Company. SEE Atlas of Humboldt County, California. R66306 ... THE BELL TELEPHONE CO. OF PENNA., by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1890) © 26Nov23, K181463. R70577, 28Nov50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) LA BELLE QUE VOILA, par Louis Hemon. (Les Cahiers verts, 19) © 5Mar23, AF23025. R67731, 28Sep50, Lydia Ramon (C) THE BELOVED BRUTE, by Kenneth Perkins. (In Argosy-All story weekly) © Kenneth Perkins (A) Aug. 12, 1922 issue. © 10Aug22, B533171. R64854, 26Jul50. Aug. 19, 1922 issue. © 17Aug22, B533538. R64855, 26Jul50. Aug. 26, 1922 issue. © 24Aug22, B533988. R64856, 26Jul50. Sept. 2, 1922 issue. © 31Aug22, B534490. R64857, 26Jul50. Sept. 9, 1922 issue. © 7Sep22, B534742. R64858, 26Jul50. Sept. 16, 1922 issue. © 14Sep22, B547448. R64859, 26Jul50. THE BELOVED PAWN, by Harold Titus. © 5Oct23, A759668. R68148, 11Oct50, Harold Titus (A) BEMIS, Samuel Flagg. SEE Jay's treaty. R71181. BEN BEY. (Cigars) © 20Jan23, Label 25655. R67806, 2Oct50, Nathan Elson Co., inc. (P) BENDER (Matthew) and Company, inc. SEE Bender's hand book for grand jurors. R64829. The law and practice in bankruptcy ... R64832. Law of wills, executors and administrators. R64828. Law trials and appeals. R64827. BENDER'S HAND BOOK FOR GRAND JURORS, Their powers and duties. Harold D. Alexander, compiler. 9th ed. © 9Mar23, A700494. R64829, 26Jul50, Matthew Bender & Co., inc. (PWH) BENJAMIN, Earl W. SEE Marketing poultry products. R71866. BENJAMIN, Harry. SEE Rejuvenation and the prolongation of human efficiency. R71179. BENJAMINE, Elbert. SEE First eighteen decanates analyzed. R65379. Last eighteen decanates analyzed. R65380. <pb id='194.png' /> BENNETT, Arnold. SEE Riceyman steps. R70387. BENOIT, Pierre. SEE Mademoiselle de la Perte. R65752. BENSON, Edward Frederic. SEE Colin. R67208. BENSON, William Shepherd. SEE The merchant marine. R71182. BENZIGER Brothers, inc. SEE The Holy Family are on their wearisome journey ... R66982. Led by a star, three holy kings ... R66981. The nativity of the Infant Jesus. R66977. St. John the Baptist and his parents. R66983. The shepherds find the Infant Jesus ... R66980. What a wonderful sight it was ... R66979. A woman of Bethlehem telling St. Joseph that she has no room ... R66978. BERCOVICI, Konrad. SEE The master. R64976. Murdo. R67270. Wolves. R67379. BERGLING, John Mauritz. SEE Art alphabets and lettering. R65714. Automobile monograms [style chart] R65712. Modern stationery monograms. R65713. BERMAN, Rita (Scherman) SEE A mother's letters to a schoolmaster. R67872. BERNEDE, Arthur. SEE Les sacrifiées. R64183. BESIER, Rudolf. SEE Secrets. R69553. THE BEST PLAYS OF 1921-1922, and THE YEARBOOK OF THE DRAMA OF AMERICA, edited by Burns Mantle. © 28Sep22, A683537. R65122, 27Jul50, Lydia Mantle (W) BETTER RETAILING, by The National Cash Register Company. © 13Apr23, A703531. R70673, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) BETTINA'S BEST DESSERTS, by Louise Bennett Weaver and Helen Cowles LeCron; illustrated by Elizabeth Colborne. © 9Jun23, A705795. R66241, 23Aug50, Helen Cowles LeCron (A) BETTINA'S BEST SALADS, and what to serve with them, by Louise Bennett Weaver and Helen Cowles LeCron; illustrated by Elizabeth Colborne. © 13Feb23, A696358. R66240, 23Aug50, Helen Cowles LeCron (A) BETTS, George Herbert. SEE Hygiene and health. R63915. Physiology and hygiene. R63916. BEYOND THE BORDER, a romance of old Mexico in three acts, by Wilson Collison. © 20Oct23, D65808. R70512, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) BIBLE ALPHABETS AND MEMORY WORK, by Alan S. Pearce. © 18Dec22, A690876. R70077, 15Nov50, Alan S. Pearce (A) <pb id='195.png' /> THE BIBLE FOR SCHOOL AND HOME, by J. Paterson Smyth. v. 5-6; The Gospel story, pts. 1-2. © 27Apr23, A704417; 20Jul23, A711287. R66661-66662, 31Aug50, John Paterson Smyth (C) & Mrs. A. P. Judd (C) THE BIG BLUE SOLDIER, by Grace Livingston Hill. © 3Feb23, A698519. R71284, 6Dec50, Ruth H. Munce (C) & Margaret L. Walker (C) BIG BROTHER, by Rex E. Beach. (In Hearst's magazine) © Joe D. Kinsey (E) & William L. Canady (E) July 1923 issue. © 20Jun23, B580327. R64589, 19Jul50. Aug. 1923; issue. © 20Jul23, B581042. R66301, 24Aug50. Sept. 1923 issue. © 20Aug23, B583320. R66302, 24Aug50. BIG BROTHER AND OTHER STORIES, by Rex E. Beach. © 11Oct23, A760354. R68806, 25Oct50, Joe D. Kinsey (E) & William L. Canady (E) BIG DAN, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 14Oct23, L19539. R71012, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE BIG DROUGHT, by Ring W. Lardner. (In Hearst's international) © Ellis A. Lardner (W) June 1923 issue. © 20May23, B577095. R64695, 25Jul50. BIG LAUREL, by Frederick Orin Bartlett. © 29Sep22, A683658. R67405, 25Sep50, Katherine J. Bartlett (W) BILL, working, by Malvina Hoffman. [Bronze figure of man scrubbing floor] © 23May23, G68557. R64079, 6Jul50, Malvina Hoffman (A) BIRD BIOGRAPHIES, by Alice E. Ball; illustrated by Robert Bruce Horsfall. © 3Mar23, A698618. R66920, 8Sep50, Alice E. Ball (A) BIRDS AND MAN, by W. H. Hudson. Pref. by Edward Garnett. © on pref.; 20Feb23, A704727. R71273, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) BIRDS, BEASTS AND FLOWERS, by D. H. Lawrence. © 9Oct23, A759447. R69075, 17Oct50, Frieda Lawrence (W) BISCH, Louis E. SEE The conquest of self. R67003. BISHOP, Joel Prentiss. SEE Bishop on criminal law. R72192. BISHOP, Joseph Bucklin. SEE Charles Joseph Bonaparte. R68253. BISHOP, Morris. SEE Teodora the sage. R67266. BISHOP ON CRIMINAL LAW, by Joel Prentiss Bishop; edited by John H. Zane and Carl Zollmann. 9th ed. 2 v. © 20Dec23, A766717. R72192, 26Dec50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH) BISLAND, Elizabeth. SEE Westmore, Elisabeth (Bisland) BISSEKER, HARRY. SEE Christian fellowship in thought and prayer. R72045. BLACK, ALEXANDER. SEE Jo Ellen. R68960. THE BLACK ARROW [AND] THE MISADVENTURES OF JOHN NICHOLSON, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 13) © on editorial work; 16Oct22, A690000. R65673, 8Aug50, Alan Osbourne (NK) <pb id='196.png' n='1950_h2/A/0066' /> THE BLACK FLAG, a play in three acts by A. E. Thomas. © 31Mar23, D64114. R70246, 10Nov50, Mrs. A. E. Thomas (W) THE BLACK MASK. © Popular Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 5, nos. 10-14. Jan.-Feb., Feb. 15-Mar. 15, 1923. © 1Dec22, B553283; 1Jan23, B567557; 1Feb23, B569825; 15Feb23, B570328; 1Mar23, B572630. R69183-69187, 1Nov50. v. 6, nos. 1-16, Apr. 1-Nov. 15, 1923. © 15Mar23, B572631; 1Apr23, B574882; 15Apr23, B574883; 1May23, B577377; 15May23, B577378; 1Jun23, B578234; 15Jun23, B580509; 1Jul23, B580510; 15Jul23, B582781; 1Aug23, B582782; 15Aug23, B585325; 1Sep23, B585326; 15Sep23, B585893; 1Oct23, B586896; 15Oct23, B589618; 1Nov23, B589619. R69188-69203, 1Nov50. THE BLACK PANTHER, a book of poems, by John Hall Wheelock. © 22Sep22, A681996. R63982, 29Jun50, John Hall Wheelock (A) THE BLACK PHANTOM, by Leo E. Miller. © 22Sep22, A681995. R63981, 29Jun50, Leo E. Miller (A) BLACK SHADOWS OF SAWTRELL HOUSE, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Detective story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Mar. 17, 1923 issue. © 13Mar23, B572515. R69443, 1Nov50. Mar. 24, 1923 issue. © 20Mar23, B572516. R69444, 1Nov50. Mar. 31, 1923 issue. © 27Mar23, B573446. R69445, 1Nov50. Apr. 7, 1923 issue. © 3Apr23, B573447. R69446, 1Nov50. Apr. 14, 1923 issue. © 10Apr23, B574520. R69447, 1Nov50. Apr. 21, 1923 issue. © 17Apr23, B574321. R69448, 1Nov50. THE BLACK WOLF PACK, by Daniel C. Beard. © 20Oct22, A686428. R68242, 13Oct50, Daniel Bartlett Beard (C) & Barbara Beard Price (C) BLACKERCHIEF DICK. A tale of Mersea Island, by Margery Allingham. [Full name: Margery Louise Allingham, later Margery Youngman Carter] With an introd. By William McFee. © 5Oct23, (pub. abroad 25Aug23, AI-5387), A759666. R68147, 11Oct50, Margery Youngman Carter (A) & William McFee (A) THE BLACKMAILERS, a farcical melodrama in three acts by Barry Conners. © 1Dec22, D62955. R70727, 30Nov50, Daniel J. Conners (NK) BLACKWELL, Wallace B. SEE Poems. R63890. BLACKWOOD, Algernon. SEE The extra day. R71873. BLAKEMORE, Arthur W. SEE Law of wills, executors and administrators. R64828 ... LE BLE EN HERBE, roman, par Colette [ps. de Mme. Goudeket; i. e. Sidonie Gabrielle Colette] © 12Jul23, AF22882. R65753, 1Aug50, Colette, ps. de Mme. Goudeket, née Gabrielle-Sidonie Colette (A) BLESSED MOTHER, by Orlando Unti. © 3Jan23, G67396. R70985, 28Nov50, Rosa Unti (W) A BLIND BARGAIN, a photoplay in five reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 21Nov22, L18423. R66174, 24Aug50, Loew's inc. (PWH) <pb id='197.png' /> THE BLIND BOW-BOY, by Carl Van Vechten, with a decoration by Robert E. Locher. © 15Aug23, A752594. R66482, 31Aug50, Carl Van Vechten (A) BLIND CUPID, by Josephine Daskam Bacon. © 16Feb23, A698409. R72266, 28Dec50, Josephine Daskam Bacon (A) BLISS AND OTHER STORIES, by Katherine Mansfield. © 1Jun23, A705702. R71279, 6Dec50, J. Middleton Murry (Wr) BLOW YOUR OWN HORN, A merry adventure in three acts by Owen Davis. © 13Feb23, D63639. R71153, 6Dec50, Owen Davis (A) BLUE BOOK MAGAZINE. © McCall Corp. (PCW) v. 36, no. 6, v. 37, nos. 1-5, Apr.-Sept. 1923. © 1Mar23, B571361; 1Apr23, B574075; 1May23, B576178; 1Jun23, B578640; 1Jul23, B580809; 1Aug23, B582547. R66535-66540, 25Aug50. BLUEBEARD, by Ring W. Lardner. (In Hearst's international) © Ellie A. Lardner (W) July 1923 issue. © 20Jun23, B580327. R64696, 25Jul50. BLUEBEARD'S EIGHTH WIFE, a photoplay in 6 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 26Jun23, L19167. R64136, 3Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) BLYTHE, Samuel G. SEE The fun of knowing folks; a book about you and me. R69430. BOBBS-MERRILL Company, inc. SEE The commentaries on the law of contracts, cumulative supplement. R72191. Oklahoma digest annotated. R64314. Oklahoma three-in-one service. R64316. A treatise on the law of criminal evidence. R63917. A treatise on the law of marriage and divorce. R72190. BODDIE, William Willis. SEE History of Williamsburg. R71589. BODENHEIM, Maxwell. SEE Against this age. R71180. BOËX, J. H. H. SEE Rosny, J. H., ainé, pseud. of J. H. H. Boëx. THE BOJABI TREE, by Edith Rickert; pictures by Gleb Botkin. © 28Sep23, A759558. R67965, 6Oct50, Margaret Josephine Rickart (E) BOK, Edward William. SEE Two persons. R65669. BOLTON, Theodore. SEE The wonderful history of Peter Schlemihl. R71326. BOND, A. Russell. SEE Mechanics. R66315. LA BONNE IDÉE DE COUSINE MARIA, par Eveline le Maire. (Bibliothèque de ma fille) © 1Jul23, AF23313. R65755, 1Aug50, Eveline le Maire (A) A BOOK, by Djuna Barnes. © 28Sep23, A760329. R71176, 7Dec50, Djuna Barnes (A) BOOK House for Children. SEE My children and the twentieth century. R65891. <pb id='198.png' /> THE BOOK OF BABY VERSE, by Joseph Morris [pseud. of Joseph M. Bachelor] and St. Clair Adams. © 30Jun23, A711095. R66527, 30Aug50, George Luedeka (E of Joseph Morris) THE BOOK OF LIFE, by Newton Marshall Hall and Irving Francis Wood, editors. © John Rudin & Co., inc. (PWH) v. 1, Bible treasures. © 1Nov23, A759727. R70111, 9Nov50. v. 2, Bible heroes, pioneers. © 1Nov23, A759728. R70112, 9Nov50. v. 3, Bible kings, captains. © 1Nov23, A759729. R70113, 9Nov50. v. 4, Bible prophets, statesmen. © 1Nov23, A759730. R70114, 9Nov50. v. 5, Bible poetry. © 1Nov23, A759731. R70115, 9Nov50. v. 6, Life of the Master. © 1Nov23, A759732. R70116, 9Nov50. v. 7, Paul: life, letters. © 1Nov23, A759733. R70117, 9Nov50. v. 8, Bible educator index. © 1Nov23, A759734. R70110, 9Nov50. THE BOOKMAN ANTHOLOGY OF ESSAYS, 1923; edited by John Farrar. © 2Nov23, A760796. R69607, 6Nov50, John Farrar (A) BOOTH, Charles J. SEE Horticulture for schools. R64300. BORDEN Company. SEE A pal for your palate. R65946. BORGERHOFF, Joseph Leopold. SEE Le crime de Sylvestre Bonnard. R67296. THE BOSS OF CAMP FOUR, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 29May23, L18992. R65951, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) BOSTON BLACKIE, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 6May23, L19080. R65954, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) BOSTON Music Company. SEE The night before Christmas. R70377. BOTANY, the science of plant life, by Norman Taylor. (The Popular science library, v. 13) © 15Dec22, A692487. R66319, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) BOTKIN, Gleb. SEE The Bojabi tree. R67965. BOURILLON, Henri. SEE Hamp, Pierre. BOVELL, Caryl Harrison. SEE Double play. R68886. BOWERS, Claude Gernade. SEE The party battles of the Jackson period. R64990. THE BOY EXPLORERS AND THE APE MAN OF SUMATRA, by Warren Hastings Miller. © 11Oct23, A760352. R69930, 10Nov50, Warren Hastings Miller (A) A BOY LOVED A GIRL, a comedy plight of youth by LeRoy Clemens. © 10Sep23, D65449. R69224, 2Nov50, LeRoy Clemens (A) A BOY OF THE LOST CRUSADE, by Agnes Danforth Hewes; with illus. by Gustaf Tenggren. © 11Oct23, A760471. R69689, 9Nov50, Agnes Danforth Hewes (A) BOYD, Ernest. SEE Bel ami. R71949. Miss Harriet and other stories. R71948. <pb id='199.png' n='1950_h2/A/0067' /> The sisters Rondoli and other stories. R71947. That pig Morin and other stories. R71275. A womans life. R71276. BOYD, Mrs. Woodward. SEE Shane, Peggy (Smith) BOYLESVE, René. SEE Le carrosse aux Deux Lezards Verts. R68402. Le dangereux jeune homme. R68399. Élise. R68401. BOYS AND GIRLS WHO CANNOT GO TO COLLEGE, by Gene Stratton Porter; illustrated by Gertrude Kay. (In McCall's magazine) © Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) Oct. 1923 issue. © 10Sep23, A714610. R66999, 13Sep50. THE BOYS' BOOK OF VERSE, compiled by Helen Dean Fish; with an introd. by Franklin K. Mathiews. © 21Sep23, A759075. R68202, 13Oct50, Helen Dean Fish (Editor and compiler) THE BOYS' OWN BOOK OF ADVENTURERS, by Albert Britt. © 18Sep23, A759011. R68530, 20Oct50, Albert Britt (A) BRACE-Bredeville, Jeanne. SEE Le livre d'adresses de madame. R65749. BRADFORD, Gamaliel. SEE Damaged souls. R69674. Francis James Child. R69692. John Brown. R68490. BRAGDON, Claude Fayette. SEE Four dimensional vistas. R71270. A primer of higher space: the fourth dimension. R71943. THE BRAGGART, by Ben Ames Williams. (In Collier's) © Ben Ames Williams (A) Aug. 4, 1923 issue. © 31Jul23, B582369. R71193, 8Dec50. BRAMMER, Julius. SEE Die Tangokönigin. R72254. BRAND, Max, pseud. SEE Faust, Frederick. BRANDEN, Albrecht Paul Maerker-. SEE Rejuvenation and the prolongation of human efficiency. R71179. BRANDON, Dorothy. SEE The outsider. R69227. BRANDT, Joe. SEE Temptation. R70806. BRASS COMMANDMENTS, by Charles Alden Seltzer. © 17Aug23, A752616. R66113, 18Aug50, Ella Alberta Seltzer (W) BRAZIL, Angela. SEE The jolliest school of all. R68237. Marjorie's best year. R68241. BREAKING THE ICE IN AUGUST, by Edna Geister. (The Edna Geister series of articles, no. 5) © 1Aug23, A757134. R66671, 31Aug50, Edna Geister (A) BREAKING THE ICE IN JULY, by Edna Geister. (The Edna Geister series of articles, no. 4) © 1Jul23, A754418. R66670, 31Aug50, Edna Geister (A) <pb id='200.png' /> BREAKING THE ICE IN OCTOBER, by Edna Geister. (The Edna Geister series, no. 7) © 1Oct23, A762809. R68973, 30Oct50, Edna Geister (A) BREAKING THE ICE IN SEPTEMBER, by Edna Geister. (The Edna Geister series, no. 6) © 1Sep23, A752937. R68953, 30Oct50, Edna Geister (A) BREDEVILLE, Jeanne Brace-. SEE Brace-Bredeville, Jeanne. BREED, Charles B. SEE The principles and practice of surveying; elementary surveying. R72259. BREHM, Worth. SEE The adventures of Huckleberry Finn. R70404. BRENT, Charles A. SEE Christian fellowship in thought and prayer. R72045. BRETT, Harold M. SEE The story of a bad boy. R69687. THE BRIDAL WREATH, by Sigrid Undset; translated from the Norwegian by C. Archer and J. S. Scott. © 20Feb23, A704403. R64218, 10Jul50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) THE BRIDE AND THE BURGLAR, a comedy in one act by Florence Lewis Speare. © 30Dec22, D63507. R71150, 6Dec50, Florence Lewis Speare (A) BRIDGES, a play in one act by Clare Kummer. © 30Dec22, D63353. R71148, 6Dec50, Clare Kummer (A) A BRIEF HISTORY OF EDUCATION, by Ellwood P. Cubberley. (Riverside textbooks in education) © 10Aug22, A677914. R65375, 10Aug50, Helen Cubberley (W) LA BRIERE, roman, par Alphonse de Châteaubriant. (Collection "Le Roman") © 10Jul23, AF23187. R65750, 1Aug50, Alphonse de Châteaubriant (A) BRIEUX, Eugène. SEE Les avaries; Les Hannetons ... R68410. BRIQUET, Paul. SEE La triste aventure de M. Corniquet. R71092. THE BRITISH campaign in France and Flanders, 1917. R66434. SEE History of the Great War. BRITT, Albert. SEE The boys' own book of adventurers. R68530. BROKEN, by Sherwood Anderson. (In the Century) © Eleanor Copenhaver Anderson (W) Mar. 1923 issue. © 24Feb23, B571505. R64027, 10Jul50. BROKEN BARRIERS, by Meredith Nicholson. © 22Sep22, A681992. R63980, 20Jun50, Meredith Nicholson, jr. (C), Charles L. Nicholson (C) & Elizabeth Nicholson (C) BROKEN CHAINS, a photoplay in seven reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 30Nov22, L18477. R67545, 26Sep50, Loew's inc. (PWH) BROMHALL, Winifred. SEE The wind boy. R69077. BROOKE, Tucker. SEE The second part of King Henry the Sixth. R71867. The third part of King Henry the Sixth. R71868. <pb id='201.png' /> BROTHERS UNDER THE SKIN, a photoplay in six reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 25Sep22, L18346. R66173, 22Aug50, Loew's inc. (PWH) BROWN, Arthur Selwyn-. SEE Selwyn-Brown, Arthur. BROWN, David Leslie. SEE Export advertising. R70499. BROWN, Ernest W. SEE The development of the sciences. R70094. BROWN, Martin. SEE Cobra. R69552. BROWNE, Susanna (Shanklin) SEE The plain sailing cook book. R68245. BROWNING, Robert. SEE Poems and plays. R65365. BUBBLES, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172704. R64069, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) BUCETA, Erasmo. SEE Antologia de cuentos españoles. R67302. BUCHAN, John. SEE A history of the Great War. R67411. Midwinter. R69680. The path of a king. R71929 ... BUCK, Charles Neville. SEE Rogues badge. R68791. BUCKING THE BARRIER, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corporation. © 29May23, L18993. R65952, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) BUNIN, Ivan Alekseevich. SEE The dreams of Chang and other stories. R71946. BUNK, by W. E. Woodward. © 14Sep23, A752991. R68955, 30Oct50, W. E. Woodward (A) BURDEN, Florabelle. SEE Robin Hood. R68208. THE BURDEN OF UNEMPLOYMENT. Relief measures in fifteen American cities 1921-22; by Philip Klein. © 4May23, A705484. R69492, 8Nov50, Russell Sage Foundation (PWH) BURGESS, Thornton Waldo. SEE Whitefoot the wood mouse. R67728. BURKE, Charles H. SEE The red man in the United States. R68946. BURNELL, George Edwin. SEE Auspices 43-48 inclusive ... R67129. Miracles of candidacy 4-5 ... R67131. Program of righteousness 48-50 ... R67130. BUSINESS ENGLISH PROBLEMS, 1-25; by Edward J. Kilduff. © 22Sep23, A757701. R68957, 30Oct50, Edward J. Kilduff (A) THE BUSS, a play in one act by Will Johnstone and Louise Barratt. © 24Jun23, D64591. R64009, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) BUSTIN' IN, a play by Paul Gerard Smith. © 21Sep22, D61979. R67332, 20Sep50, Paul Gerard Smith, inc. (PWH) <pb id='202.png' n='1950_h2/A/0068' /> BUSY LITTLE BROWNIES, by N. Moore Banta; illustrated by Dorothy Dulin. © 2Jun23, A692759. R71573, 18Dec50, A. Flanagan Co. (PWH) BUTLER, Ellis Parker. SEE Ghosts what ain't. R69659. Jibby Jones; a story of Mississippi River adventure for boys. R69682. BUTLER, Marguerite. SEE One exciting night. R66781. The white rose. R66785. BUTLER, Mary Ann. SEE One exciting night. R66781. The white rose. R66785. BUTTERFLY, by Kathleen Norris; front. by C. Allan Gilbert. © 21Sep23, A759396. R67704, 27Sep50, Kathleen Norris (A) C-1891. by American Bank Note Company. © 27Nov23, K181464. R70578, 28Nov50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) CABELL, James Branch. SEE The high place. R70041. Jurgen. R64654. THE CABIN IN THE PINES, by John Frederick [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 9, 1922 Issue. © 6Dec22, B553503. R64896, 31Jul50. THE CADENZA. © Walter Jacobs, inc. (PCW) v. 29, no. 8, Aug. 1922. © 5Aug22, B533085. R65251, 3Aug50. v. 29, no. 10, Oct. 1922. © 11Oct22, B550664. R68012, 9Oct50. v. 29, no. 11, Nov. 1922. © 10Nov22, B553518. R68977, 31Oct50. v. 29, no. 12, Dec. 1922. © 8Dec22, B554470. R71160, 7Dec50. CAHUSAC MYSTERY, by K. and Hesketh Prichard. © 6Sep12, A320277. R72269, 28Dec50, Lady Elizabeth Motion (W of H. Prichard) CAILLAVET, Gaston Armand de. SEE Arman de Caillavet, Gaston. CAIN, Noble. SEE Once in a blue moon. R70292. CAINE, Sir Hall. SEE The woman of Knockaloe. R71374. CALDERWOOD, James P. SEE Elements of engineering thermodynamics. R71863. CALDWELL, Fred P. SEE The Virginia and West Virginia judicial dictionary-digest. R66224. CALDWELL, Otis W. SEE Science remaking the world. R68788. LE CAMARADE INFIDELE, par Jean Schlumberger. © 5Oct22, AF21034. R66910, 12Sep50, Jean Schlumberger (A) CAMEO KIRBY, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 8Oct23, L19564. R71015, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) CAMP, Walter. SEE A pocket bridge book. R67001. CAN A WOMAN LOVE TWICE, a photoplay in 7 reels by R-C Pictures Corp. © 20Oct22, L20006. R64520, 11Jul50, RKO Radio Pictures, inc. (PWH) <pb id='203.png' /> CANAL DO MANGUE; BANCO DO BRASIL, by American Bank Note Company. (Special c-1873) © 6Jul23, K177410. R64702, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) CANE, by Jean Toomer, with a foreword by Waldo Frank. © 10Sep23, A711891. R67280, 18Sep50, Jean Toomer (A) CANFIELD, Dorothy. SEE Fisher, Dorothea Frances (Canfield) CANO, Juan. SEE Cuentos y leyendas. R67294. THE CAPITAL OF OUR COUNTRY, by National Geographic Society. © 31Oct23, A765116. R71815, 18Dec50, National Geographic Society (PWH) CAPTAIN FLY BY NIGHT, a photoplay in 5 reels by R-C Pictures Corp. © 24Dec22, L18625. R64519, 11Jul50, RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. (PWH) CAPTAIN WARDLAW'S KITBAGS, by Harold MacGrath. (Famous authors series, no. 36) © 19Dec23, A778568. R71927, 21Dec50, Alma Kenyon MacGrath (W) CARCO, Francis. SEE Verotchka l'strangers; ou, Le goût du malheur. R68409. CARCOPINO, Francis. SEE Carco, Francis. THE CARE AND USE OF SINGER SEWING MOTORS, by Harry A. Hey. (Form 1857, Jan. 1923) © 16Feb23, A699857. R72244, 26Dec50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) CARHART, P. W. SEE Webster's new international dictionary of the English language. R66345. CAROLINA CHANSONS, legend of the Low Country, by DuBose Heyward and Harvey Allen. © 5Dec22, A692249. R70165, 17Nov50, Dorothy Hayward (W) & Ann Andrews Allen (W) CARPENTER, Frank G. SEE France to Scandinavia. R69245. Java and the East Indies. R67005. LE CARROSSE AUX DEUX LEZARDS VERTS, par René Boylesve. [Real name: René Tardivaux] © 16Nov21, AF18854. R68402, 13Oct50, Marie Mors-Boylesve (née Marie Boylesve) (NK) CARSON, John. SEE Be kind to a man when he is down. R68667. CARTER, Margery Youngman. SEE Allingham, Margery. CARTER, Russell Gordon. SEE A patriot lad of old Boston. R64665. CARTER, William Harding. SEE The horses of the world. R71816. THE CASE FOR SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHY, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 23Mar23, A696969. R65900, 21Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) A CASE IN CAMERA, by Oliver Onions [pseud. of George Oliver] © 1Mar21, (pub. abroad 4Nov20), A605973. R71874, 21Dec50, George Oliver (A) CASES AND OTHER AUTHORITIES ON EQUITY, by Walter Wheeler Cook. v. 1. © 24Aug23, A760928. R68269, 13Oct50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) CASES ON BAILMENTS AND PUBLIC CALLINGS, with special reference to common carriers; selected by Hugh Evander Willis. © 15Sep23, A759207. R69240, 1Nov50, Hugh Evander Willis (A) <pb id='204.png' /> CATHER, Wills Sibert. SEE Alexander's bridge. R64987. A lost lady. R67796. Nebraska, the end of the first cycle. R67797. CATHERINE DE MEDICIS, by Paul van Dyke. 2 V. © 17Nov22, A686952. R68249, 13Oct50, Tertius van Dyke (NK) CAT-O'-MOUNTAIN, by Arthur O. Friel. (In Adventure magazine) © Arthur O. Friel (A) Jan. 23, 1923 issue. © 7Dec22, A651108. R69567, 8Nov50. Jan. 30, 1923 issue. © 26Dec22, A651876. R69568, 8Nov50. Feb. 10, 1923 issue. © 29Dec22, A662511. R69570, 8Nov50. Feb. 20, 1923 issue. © 5Jan23, A662510. R69569, 8Nov50. CATRIONA, the further adventures of David Balfour, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne (The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 10) © on editorial work; 25Aug22, A681633. R63979, 29Jun50, Alan Osbourne (NK) CATTY ATKINS, FINANCIER; by Clarence Budington Kelland. (In American boy magazine) © Clarence Budington Kelland (A) Dec. 1922 issue. © 25Nov22, B552425. R72136, 30Oct50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 25Dec22, B554617. R72006, 22Dec50. Feb. 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B568725. R72007, 22Dec50. Mar. 1923 issue. © 25Feb23, B570927. R72008, 22Dec50. Apr. 1923 issue. © 25Mar23, B573098. R72009, 22Dec50. THE CAUSES OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE, the first volume of a history of the founding of the American Republic, by Claude H. Van Tyne. © 17Aug22, A677972. R65505, 10Aug50, Josselyn Van Tyne (C) CAVALIER OF THE STREETS, by Michael Arlen. (In Harper's bazaar) © Michael Arlen (A) June 1923 issue. © 25May23, B577517. R70750, 24Nov50. THE CAVE WOMAN, by Norval Richardson. © 15Sep22, A683289. R65366, 8Aug50, Norval Richardson (A) CEDAR CREEK STEAMED CRABS. © 28Apr23, Label 26151. R68924, 30Oct50, U. S. Stewart & Bro. inc. (P) CELLA Brothers, inc. SEE Fortunello pure cottonseed oil R65934 THE CENTURY. © Appleton-Century-Crofts, inc. (PCW) v. 105, nos. 3-6 Jan.-Apr. 1923. © 22Dec22, B554868; 25Jan23, B568982; 24Feb23, B571505; 15Mar23, B573445. R71532-71535, 14Dec50. v. 106, nos. 1-6, May-Oct. 1923. © 25Apr23, B576095; 25May23, B577949; 25Jun23, B579827; 25Jul23, B582018; 25Aug23, B584253; 25Sep23, B586617. R71536-71541, 14Dec50. v. 107, nos. 1-2, Nov.-Dec. 1923. © 26Oct23, B589243; 26Nov23, B603599. R71542-71543, 14Dec50. CEREMONIALS OF COMMON DAYS, by Abbie Graham. © 1Mar23, A696879. R67802, 26Sep50, The National Board of the Young Women's Christian Assn. of the U. S. A. (PWH) <pb id='205.png' n='1950_h2/A/0069' /> CERVANTES SAAVEDRA, Miguel de. SEE Don Quixote. R69928. CHADOURNE, Louis. SEE Le pot au noir. R65748. CHAFFIN, Lucien G. SEE Song-writing and song-making; a book of advice for the amateur composer. R68910. CHAMBERLAIN, George Agnew. SEE Lip Malry's wife. R68958. CHAMBERS, Robert William. SEE Eris. R65130. CHAMBRUN, Clara (Longworth) comtesse de. SEE Playing with souls. R63983. CHAMISSO, Adelbert von. SEE The wonderful history of Peter Schlemihl. R71326. THE CHAMPION, a comedy in three acts By A. E. Thomas and Thomas Louden. (French's standard library edition) © 6Dec22, D63029. R70243, 10Nov50, Mrs. A. E. Thomas (W) THE CHAPERONES, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 28Mar23, D64064. R68462, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) CHAPLIN, Charles. SEE A woman of Paris. R71854. CHAPMAN, Marian. SEE Poor Pinney. R67263. CHAPPELL, Clovis Gillham. SEE More sermons on Biblical characters. R71670. CHARLES JOSEPH BONAPARTE, his life and Public services, by Joseph Bucklin Bishop. © 24Nov22, A692313. R68253, 13Oct50, Joseph B. Bishop (C) & William B. Bishop (C) CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA, by Amy Lowell. (In Poetry) © Ada D. Russell (E) Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B552553. R67903, 3Oct50. CHARTERS, Werrett Wallace. SEE Textile fabrics. R71507. CHÂTEAUBRIANT, Alphonse de. SEE La Briere. R65750. CHATER, Arthur G. SEE The long journey; fire and ice. R71272. The long journey; the Cimbrians. R71945 Victoria. R71274. THE CHEAT, a photoplay in eight reels By Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 15Aug23, L19324. R69370, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) CHECK IT, budget plan, by Samuel Marsh. © 9Aug23, A764249. R66901, 11Sep50, Samuel Marsh (A) CHEKHOV, Anton Pavlovich. SEE The cherry orchard. R70756. The three sisters; a drama in four acts. R70753. THE CHERRY ORCHARD; a comedy in four acts, by Anton Tchekhoff. Translated by Jennie Covan. Edited by Oliver M. Sayler. (The Moscow Art Theatre series of Russian plays, v. 3) © 1Dec22, A697387. R70756, 30Nov50, Coward-McCann, inc. (PWH) <pb id='206.png' /> CHESTER FORGETS HIMSELF, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In the Saturday evening post) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) July 7, 1923 issue. © 5Jul23, B580441. R64200, 10Jul50. CHESTERTON, Gilbert Keith. SEE The absence of Mr. Glass. R71656. The Donnington affair. R72140. The man in the passage. R71659. The oracle of the dog. R71376. The paradise of thieves. R71658. The strange crime of John Boulnois. R71657. Where all roads lead. R72028. CHILDREN OF JAZZ, a photoplay in 6 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 11Jul23, L19201. R64680, 24Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) CHILDREN'S DAY TREASURY NO. 33; edited by Karl K. Lorenz. © 5Mar23, A700750. R68712, 25Oct50, Lorenz Publishing Co. (PWH) CHILL, by Amy Lowell. (In the Reviewer) © Ada D. Russell (E) Oct. 1922 issue. © 20Oct22, B549860. R67413, 20Sep50. CHILTON, Alexander Wheeler. SEE English analysis and exposition R66248. A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK, by Bessie P. Gutmann. (728) © 22Jun23, K176194. R64078, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) THE CHOIR HERALD. © Loranz Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 26 nos. 4-10. Jan.-July, 1923. © 22Nov22, B554387; 27Dec22, B568431; 1Feb23, B572874; 28Feb23, B572875; 4Apr23, B575711; 2May23, B577161; 31May23, B579949. R68737-68743, 25Oct50. THE CHOIR LEADER © Lorenz Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 29, nos. 11-12, Jan.-Feb. 1923. © 20Dec22, B568432; 15Jan23, B571118. R68744-68745, 25Oct50. v. 30, nos. 1-5, Mar.-July 1923. © 1Feb25, B572876; 20Mar23, B575712; 15Apr23, B577162; 15May23, B577997; 31May23, B579950. R68746-68750, 25Oct50. CHOUDENS, Paul de. SEE La passion. R70837. THE CHRISTENING OF TWIN, by Sam Hellman (In the Saturday evening post) © Sam Hellman (A) Oct. 7, 1922 issue. © 5Oct22, B548709. R65507, 1Aug50. THE CHRISTIAN, a photoplay in eight reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 5Feb23, L18644. R71805, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) THE CHRISTIAN AND HIS MONEY PROBLEMS, by Bert Wilson. © 29Aug23, A711718. R68949, 30Oct50, Edith B. Wilson (W) CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP IN THOUGHT AND PRAYER, by Basil Joseph Mathews and Harry Bisseker; introd. by the Rt. Rev. Charles A. Brent. © 20Jun20, (pub. abroad 22Aug19, AI-3523), A570476. R72045, 27Dec50, Basil Joseph Mathews (A) CHRISTINE, Henri. SEE Phi-Phi. R70835. <pb id='207.png' /> CHRISTMAS DAY AT SEA, by Joseph Conrad. (In the Delineator) © John Alexander Conrad (C) Dec. 1923 issue. © 25Oct23, B588597. R68896, 26Oct50. A CHRISTMAS ENCOUNTER, by Nicholas Silver [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Detective story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 23, 1922 issue. © 19Dec22, B554721. R67874, 20Oct50. CHRISTOPHER, a study in human personality, by Oliver J. Lodge. © 25Feb19, A512489. R70135, 10Nov50, Oliver W. F. Lodge (C) CIBOULETTE, opérette en 3 actes at 4 tableaux. Livret de Robert de Flors et Francis de Crisset, musique de Reynaldo Hahn. Partition piano et chant. © 15May23, D26456. R69898, 1Nov50, René Schrameck (E) THE CIGARETTE, by Ben Amos Williams. (In Collier's) © Ben Amos Williams (A) Sept. 8, 1923 Issue. © 4Sep23, B584814. R71194, 8Dec50. CINDERELLA, by Ring W. Lardner. (In Hearst's International) © Ellis A. Lardner (W) Aug. 1923 issue. © 20Jul23, B581042. R64697, 25Jul50. CIRCUS PALS, a photoplay In two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 3Jun23, L19203. R65957, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) CIVICS FOR NEW AMERICANS, by Mabel Hill and Philip Davis. Rev. ed. © on revision; 17Aug22, A677973. R65678, 10Aug50, Mabel Hill (A) & Philip Davis (A) CIVICS FOR NEW AMERICANS, by Mabel Hill and Philip Davis. Rev. ed. © on revision; 17Aug22, A677973. R64664, 24Jul50, Philip Davis (A) CLARK, Ellery Harding. SEE Putting it over. R72290. CLARK, Margery, pseud. SEE The cook's surprise. R67964. CLARK, Mary R. For works written in collaboration with Margery Quigley, SEE Clark, Margery, pseud. CLARK Thread Company, inc. SEE Clark's O.N.T. designs for popular embroidery. R64018. Clark's O.N.T. sewing book. R64017. CLARKE, Hans Thacher. SEE Organic syntheses. R71865. CLARK'S O.N.T. DESIGNS FOR POPULAR EMBROIDERY, by the Clark Thread Company. (17) © 3Feb23, A699323. R64018, 10Jul50, The Clark Thread Co., inc. (PWH) CLARK'S O.N.T. SEWING BOOK, for girls' clothes, by the Clark Thread Company. (20) © 6Dec22, A693411. R64017, 10Jul50, The Clark Thread Co., inc. (PWH) CLAYTON, Henry Helm. SEE Earth and sun. R67254. World weather. R70100. CLEMENS, LeRoy. SEE A boy loved a girl. R69224. Weeds. R69225. A young man's fancy. R69226. <pb id='208.png' n='1950_h2/A/0070' /> CLEMENS, Samuel Langhorne. SEE The adventures of Huckleberry Finn. R70404. Europe and elsewhere. R66667. Life on the Mississippi. R66534. Mark Twain's speeches. R66389. CLEMENT, Clarence E. SEE Market milk. R71095. CLEVELAND TRUST FORTUNE FOUNDER [by I. I. Sperling] © 22Dec22, A693714. R69501, 9Nov50, The Cleveland Trust Co. (PWH) CLEVELAND Trust Company. SEE Cleveland Trust fortune founder. R69501. CLEWS, Henry. SEE Mumbo jumbo. R67275. THE CLINTON TWINS AND OTHER STORIES, by Archibald Marshall. © 31Mar23, A698841. R66921, 8Sep50, Helen Marshall (W) THE CLOAK OF ST. MARTIN, by ARTHUR C. TRAIN. (In Saturday evening post) © Helen C. Train (W) Mar. 3, 1923 issue. © 1Mar23, B571295. R69497, 8Nov50. COBB, Irvin Shrewsbury. SEE Daisy Ashford: her book. R65982. A laugh a day keeps the doctor away. R68152. Snake doctor and other stories. R65125. Speaking of operations and other stories. R70388. COBRA, a play in four acts by Martin Brown. © 23May23, D64579. R69552, 9Nov50, Fredrika Brown (E) COCTEAU, JEAN. SEE Le grand écart. R64188. Plain-chant. R65751. CODY, H. A. SEE The trail of the Golden Horn. R67703. COFFEE FLAVOR THAT SATISFIES. (Coffee) © 11May23, Print 6918. R70353, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) COGSWELL, Helen. SEE Trostel, Helen (Cogswell) COHAN, George Michael. SEE My thirty years in baseball. R67276. So this is London. R67122. COHEN, Octavus Roy. SEE Assorted chocolates. R65757. THE COINCIDENCE, by Booth Tarkington. (In McCall's magazine) © Susanah K. Tarkington (W) Sept. 1923 issue. © 10Aug23, B583046. R65644, 11Aug50. COLBORNE, Elizabeth. SEE Bettina's best desserts. R66241. Bettina's best salads. R66240. COLE, Francis R. SEE Love and fate. R64663. Magellan, the first circumnavigator of the world. R65378. COLE OF SPYGLASS MOUNTAIN, by Arthur Preston Hankins. © 3Mar23, A698549. R65761, 8Aug50, Mrs. Arthur Preston Hankins (W) COLETTE. SEE Colette, Sidonie Gabrielle. <pb id='209.png' /> COLETTE, Gabrielle-Sidonie. SEE Colette, Sidonie Gabrielle COLETTE, Sidonie Gabrielle. SEE Le ble en herbe. R65743. COLIGNY, Margaret. SEE The Snipsnops and the Woo-Woo bird. R65693. COLIN [a novel] by E. F. Benson. © 14Sep23, (pub. abroad 13Apr23, AI-5076), A752936. R67208, 18Sep50, Kenneth Stewart Patrick McDowall (NK) COLLEGE DAYS, by Stephen Leacock. © 20Oct23, A759584. R71373, 8Dec50, George Leacock (C) COLLIER (P. F.) and Son Corporation. SEE Anthropology. R66321. Astronomy. R66312. Botany. R66319. Electricity and magnetism. R66316. Geology. R66313. History of science. R66322. Mechanics. R66315. Medicine. R66317. Meteorology. R66311. Physics. R66314. Physiography. R66320. Physiology. R66323. Zoology. R66318. COLLIER, William Miller. SEE The law and practice in bankruptcy R64832. COLLINS, Dale. SEE Sea-tracks of the Speejacks, round the world. R65416. COLLINS, George Rowland. SEE Platform speaking; a practical study for business and professional men. R70405. COLLINS, Joseph. SEE The doctor looks at literature. R66788. COLLISON, Wilson. SEE Beyond the border. R70512. Debris. R70507. Driftwood. R70508. Enough is too much. R70511. Fall of Babylon. R70509. Tide. R70510. COLTON, John. SEE Rain, a play in 3 acts. R71137. COLUMBIA HAIR CREAM. (Hair preparation) © 20Nov22, Label 25747. R67399, 22Sep50, Columbia Perfume Co. (P) COLUMBIA Perfume Company. SEE Columbia hair cream. R67399. COLUMBIA Pictures Corporation. SEE Forbidden love. R71008. Forbidden paradise. R71007. More to be pitied than scorned. R65309. Only a shop girl. R71009. Temptation. R70806. COME ALONG THEN, DO COME, WON'T YE COME? By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169281. R67334, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A). <pb id='210.png' /> THE COMEDIAN, a comedy of temperament adapted by David Belasco from the French of Sascha Guitry. © 29Aug22, D61786. R65929, 16Aug50, Edward M. Belasco (NK), Frederick E. Belasco (NK), Walter Belasco, Jr. (NK), David W. Belasco (NK), Harold G. Belasco (NK), Raymond F, Belasco (NK), Myrtle Belasco (NK), Rena B. Rosenthal (NK), Barbara B. Annis (NK), Marjorie M. Friedberg (NK) THE COMING OF THE FAIRIES, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 5Oct22, A692110. R65899, 21Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C), & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) THE COMMANDMENT OF MOSES, by Stephen McKenna. © 13Nov23, (pub. abroad 25Aug23, AI-5441), A759830. R70383, 20Nov50, Stephen McKenna (A) THE COMMENTARIES ON THE LAW OF CONTRACTS, cumulative supplement, by William F. Elliott, assisted by Dale F. Stansbury, and others, New ed. © 28Nov23, A765406. R72191, 26Dec50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., Inc. (PWH) THE COMMUNICABLE DISEASES; how they spread and how they may be controlled. By Allan J. McLaughlin. (Harper's public health series, v. 1) © 26Oct23, A760573. R68970, 30Oct50, Allan J. McLaughlin (A) I COMPAGNACCI. Libretto In l atto di Giovacchino Forzano, per la musica., del maestro Primo Riccitelli [Librato] © 25Jul23, D65302. R68512, 16Oct50, Giovacchino Forzano (A) I COMPAGNACCI. Libretto In un atto di Giovacchino Forzano, per la musica del maestro Primo Riccitelli, riduzione per canto e pianoforte de Luigi Ricci © 2Jul23, D26474. R68511, 16Oct50, Primo Riccitelli (A) COMPANIONABLE BOOKS, by Henry van Dyke. © 6Oct22, A686168. R65664, 8Aug50, Tertius van Dyke (C) THE COMPREHENSIVE STANDARD DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, by Frank H. Vizetelly. A new ed. © on general revision; 30Dec22, A690924. R67504, 26Sep50, Funk & Wagnalls Co. (PWH) COMSTOCK, Harriet T. SEE The tenth woman. R67371. UN CONCERT CHEZ LES FOUS, drame en trois actes par André de Lorde et Charles Foley. (In Les Annales) © 22Jul23, 29Jul23, 5Aug23, D65407. R68411, 13Oct50, Mme vve André de Lorde, née Charlotte Fassarti (W) THE CONCISE STANDARD DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, by the Funk and Wagnalls Company. A new ad. © 16Oct22, A692704. R67505, 26Sep50, Funk & Wagnalls Co. (PWH) CONDE Nast Publications Inc. SEE House and garden Vanity fair Vogue CONDON, Frank. SEE Hollywood. R71527. THE CONFESSIONS of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Pref, by Edmund Wilson. v. 1 and 2. © on pref.; 5Oct23, A760783. R71951, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) CONLIN, Henry E. SEE Handwriting as the expression of character. R64662. <pb id='211.png' n='1950_h2/A/0071' /> CONNELLY, Marcus Cook. SEE Dulcy. R65679. CONNERS, Barry. SEE The blackmailers. R70727. CONNETT, Eugene V., 3d. SEE Wing shooting and angling. R68247. CONNOR, Ralph, pseud. SEE Gordon, Charles William. THE CONQUEST OF SELF, by Louis E. Bisch. © 7Sep23, A760027. R67003, 13Sep50, Louis E. Bisch (A) CONRAD, Joseph. SEE Christmas day at sea. R68896. The rover. R65985 ... Stephen Crane: a study in American letters. R69479 ... CONRAD AND THE REPORTERS, by Christopher Morley. (In New York evening post) © Christopher Morley (A) May 3, 1923 issue. © 3May23, B561486. R71681, 14Dec50. May 4, 1923 issue. © 4May23, B561487. R71682, 14Dec50. May 5. 1923 issue. © 5May23, B561488. R71683, 14Dec50. May 7, 1923 issue. © 7May23, B561489. R71684, 14Dec50. May 10, 1923 issue. © 10May23, B561492. R71685, 14Dec50. THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES: an historical survey of its formation, by Robert Livingston Schuyler. © 30Oct23, A760669. R69434, 3Nov50, Robert Livingston Schuyler (A) THE CONSTITUTIONAL FACTORS IN DEMENTIA PRECOX, by Nolan D. C. Lewis. (Nervous and mental disease monograph series, no. 35) © 8Jan23, A698065. R71970, 13Dec50, Smith Ely Jelliffe Trust, Carol Goldschmidt, trustee (PWH) CONSTRUCTIVE SALESMANSHIP, principles and practice, by John Alford Stevenson. © 1Jun23, A704775. R64982, 27Jul50, Josephine R. Stevenson (W) CONVENIENCES FOR THE COOK, by Gene Stratton Porter; illustrated by Gertrude Kay. (In McCall's magazine) © Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) Sept. 1923 issue. © 10Aug23, A713047. R65642, 11Aug50. COOK, Charles A. SEE The larger stewardship. R72042. COOK, Walter Wheeler. SEE Cases and other authorities on equity. R68269. THE COOK'S SURPRISE, by Margery Clark [pseud. of Mary E. Clark and Margery Quigley] Pictures by Madge Anderson. © 28Sep23, A759557. R67964, 6Oct50, Mary E. Clark (A) & Margery Quigley (A) COOLIDGE, Dana. SEE Lost wagons. R69271. CORBIN, John. SEE The return of the middle class. R68248. CORDUROY, by Ruth Comfort Mitchell. © 28Feb23, A698535. R72283, 28Dec50, Ruth Comfort Mitchell (A) CORPUS JURIS, edited by William Mack, William Benjamin Hale and Donald J. Kiser. v. 30. © 17May25, A711060. R64311, 10Jul50, The American Law Book Co. (PWH) <pb id='212.png' /> CORPUS JURIS, edited by William Mack, William Benjamin Hale and Donald J. Kiser. v. 31. © 13Sep23, A759605. R68266, 13Oct50, The American Law Book Co. (PWH) CORRECT ENGLISH, a language series for the Philippines, by Mary E. Polley and Josefa Jura Martinez. © Mary E. Polley (A) & Josefa J. Martinez (A) Grade 3. © 17Feb23, A696493. R67299, 20Sep50. Grade 4. © 20Feb23, A696494. R67300, 20Sep50. CORRECT TASTE, STRENGTH AND FLAVOR. (Coffee) © 22May23, Print 6932. R70359, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) CORTHIS, André. SEE L'entraineuse. R64191. COSMOPOLITAN. © Hearst Magazines, inc. (PCW) v. 73, no. 4, Oct. 1922. © 10Sep22, B547833. R65146, 26Jul50. v. 73. no. 5, Nov. 1922. © 10Oct22, B559227. R66250, 24Aug50. v. 73, no. 6, Dec. 1922. © 10Nov22, B552075. R68011, 6Oct50. v. 74, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 10Dec22, B553617. R70148, 17Nov50. v. 74, no. 2, Feb. 1923. © 10Jan23, B567748. R71672, 18Dec50. COSMOPOLITAN Corporation. SEE Valley of the silent men. R66175. COSTUME SILHOUETTES, by Mary Evans. (Lippincott's unit texts) © 14Sep23, A759570. R71290, 6Dec50, Mary Evans (A) COULOMB, Jeanne de. SEE Le silence de Nadia. R67732. COUNTRY GENTLEMAN. © The Curtis Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 88, nos. 1-26, Jan. 6-June 30, 1923. © 4Jan23, B567219; 11Jan23, B567749; 18Jan23, B568287; 25Jan23, B568741; 1Feb23, B569182; 8Feb23, B569787; 15Feb23, B570270; 22Feb23, B570769; 1Mar23, B571294; 8Mar23, B571852; 15Mar23, B572380; 22Mar23, B572926; 29Mar23, B573485; 5Apr23, B573965; 12Apr23, B574503; 19Apr23, B574982; 26Apr23, B575495; 3May23, B576049; 10May23, B576577; 17May23, B577078; 24May23, B577585; 31May23, B577989; 7Jun23, B578486; 14Jun23, B579007; 21Jun23, B579468; 28Jun23, B579939. R71208-71233, 6Dec50. COURNOS, John. SEE In exile. R71173. THE COUSIN FROM NOWHERE, a new musical comedy adapted by Fred Thompson from the book of Herman Haller and Rideamus. Words by Adrian Rosa [pseud. of Arthur Ropes] Robert C. Tharp, and Douglas Furber; music by Edward Kunneke. Vocal score. © 16May23, D26466. R66176, 22Aug50, Fred Thompson (A), Ethel Ropes (W), Robert C. Tharp (A), Douglas Furber (A) COVAN, Jenny. SEE The cherry orchard. R70756. The lower depths; a drama in four acts. R70755. Moscow Art Theatre Series of Russian plays. R70757. The three sisters; a drama in four acts. R70753. Tsar Fyodor Ivanovitch. R70754. COWARD-MCCANN, Inc. SEE The cherry orchard. R70756. <pb id='213.png' /> The lower depths; a drama in four acts. R70755. Moscow Art Theatre series of Russian plays. R70757. The three sisters; a drama in four acts. R70753. Tsar Fyodor Ivanovitch. R70754. COXON, Muriel (Hine), "Mrs. Sidney Coxon." SEE The flight. R64196. COXON, Mrs. Sidney. SEE Coxon, Muriel (Hine) THE CRAFT OF ATHENIAN POTTERY, by Gisele M. A. Richter and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. © 29Jun23, A752353. R65277, 31Jul50, The Metropolitan Museum of Art (PWH) THE CRAFTSMANSHIP OF THE ONE-ACT PLAY, by Percival Wilde. © 21Feb23, A696539. R64562, 19Jul50, Percival Wilde (A) THE CRAGUN CONSERVATORY METHOD FOR SAXOPHONE, v. 1. By J. Beach Cragun. © 26Oct23, A761846. R68915, 27Oct50, Rubank, inc. (PWH) CRAGUN, John Beach. SEE The Cragun Conservatory method for saxophone, v. 1. R68915. CRAIG, James, pseud. SEE Snell, Roy Judson. CRAIG KENNEDY LISTENS IN, by Arthur B. Reeve. (Adventures of Craig Kennedy, scientific detective) © 11Oct23, A760351. R71666, 14Dec50, Margaret Reeve Malorino (C) CREATIVE SALESMANSHIP, by Herbert W. Hess. © 2Feb23, A698641. R68980, 27Oct50, Mrs. Henry Schaffner (NK) CREEK, Herbert Le Sourd. SEE The literature of business. R68967. LE CRIME DE SYLVESTRE BONNARD, par Anatole France. Abridged and edited with notes, by J. L. Borgerhoff. (Heath's modern language series) © on exercises; 17Nov22, A692074. R67296, 20Sep50, J. L. Borgerhoff (A) CRINOLINE AND ROMANCE, a photoplay in six reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 7Feb23, L18737. R71807, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) THE CRITIC, a one act thing by James Montgomery Flagg. © 24May23, D64596. R64011, 12Jun50, Lee and J. J. Shubert (PWH) CROCKETT, Daniel W. SEE Oklahoma digest annotated. R64314 ... Oklahoma three-in-one service. R64316. CROFT, Terrell. SEE Practical heat. R67313. Steam turbine principles and practice. R67307. CROISSET, Francis de. SEE Ciboulette. R69898. CROSS CURRENTS IN EUROPE TODAY, by Charles A. Beard. (Dartmouth alumni lectures) © 21Sep22, A683348. R67370, 8Sep50, Miriam Vagta (C) CROSSED WIRES, a farcical comedy in three acts by Richard Augustus Purdy. © 2Dec22, D62970. R70760, 1Dec50, Mrs. Clara T. Purdy (W) <pb id='214.png' n='1950_h2/A/0072' /> CROSSINGS, a fairy play by Walter de la Mare, with music by C. Armstrong Gibbs; illus. by Dorothy P. Lathrop. © 10Nov23, A765082. R71953, 1Dec50, Walter de la Mare (A) CROSS-SECTIONS, by Julian Street. © 7Sep23, A760026. R67002, 13Sep50, Margot S. Street (W) CROWTHER, Samuel. SEE John H. Patterson, pioneer in industrial welfare. R64201. THE CRUISE OF THE O MOO; adventure stories for girls, by Roy J. Snell. © 2Aug22, A692421. R64253, 11Jul50, Whitman Publishing Co. (PWH) CUBBERLEY, Ellwood P. SEE A brief history of education. R65375. The principal and his school. R71798. CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, by Elijah Clarence Hills and Juan Cano; illustrated by Bates Gilbert. (Heath's modern language series) © 2Oct22, A686274. R67294, 20Sep50, George S. Hills (C) & Juan Cano (A) CUMMINGS, Edward Estlin. SEE Tulips and chimneys. R70024. CUMULATIVE supplement to The commentaries on the law of contracts. SEE The commentaries on the law of contracts. R72191. CUPID ABOARD, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64981. R68474, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) CUPID AND MR. PEPYS, by Netta Syrett. © 27Aug23, A711699. R71679, 14Dec50, Kate Syrett (E) CUPID'S FIREMAN, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 8Dec23, L19711. R71785, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE CURE, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] (In Metropolitan magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) May 1922 issue. © 15Apr22, B525562. R71427, 11Dec50. CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN, by James Craig [pseud. of Roy Judson Snell] (The Radio-phone boys stories) © 2Aug22, A692420. R65181, 25Jul50, Whitman Publishing Co. (PWH) CURTIN, Jeremiah. SEE Seneca Indian myths. R69273. CURTIS, Alice (Turner) SEE A little maid of Maryland. R71053. CURTIS, Arthur F. SEE New trials and appeals. R64827. CURTIS Publishing Company. SEE Country gentleman. Ladies' home journal. The Saturday evening post. CURWOOD, James Oliver. SEE The Alaskan. R66225. CUSHING, Catherine Chisholm. SEE Jinx. R69228. Marge. R69233. The master of the inn. R69232. Nancy Stair. R69231. The poppy-kiss. R69230. Topsy and Eva. R69229. <pb id='215.png' /> CUT SHADOW, by Amy Lowell. (In Independent) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B575411. R67910, 30Oct50. CUTTING, Thomas William. SEE List[s] of parts. R65070 ... THE CYCLIST, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 19Aug23, L19495. R68452, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) CYCLOPEDIA OF SERMON OUTLINES, by Aquilla Webb; with an introd. by Charles L. Goodell. © 2Nov23, A760795. R71669, 14Dec50, Jane O. Webb (W) CYDALISE ET LE CHEVRE-PIED, ballet en 2 actes et 3 tableaux de G. A. Caillavet et Robert de Flers. Choréographie de M. Leo Staats, musique de Gabriel Pierne. Partition piano seul. © 5May23, D26451. R69900, 1Nov50, Louise-Marie Bergon, vve Pierne (W) DAISY ASHFORD HER BOOK, A Collection of the remaining novels by the author of "The young visitors" [i.e. Daisy Ashford; full name Margaret Mary Ashford; later Mrs James Devlin] with a pref. by Irvin S. Cobb. © 10Jun20, (pub. abroad 10Jun20), A570333. R65982, 14Aug50, Mrs. J. Devlin (A) DALLETT, Morris. SEE Star of earth. R72135. DAMAGED SOULS, by Gamaliel Bradford. © 11May23, A704651. R69674, 9Nov50, Helen F. Bradford (W) DAMASCUS GATE, by Ernest Raymond. © 27Nov23, A766107. R71040, 29Nov50, Ernest Raymond (A) DAMNATION. R67277. SEE Tragedies of sex. THE DANCE OF LIFE, by Havelock Ellis. © 1Jun23, A704835. R71675, 13Dec50, Francoise Lafitte Cyon (E) DANCE OR DIE, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 31Aug23, L19441. R68446, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) DANGER, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (In Collier's) © Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) Aug. 22, 1914 Issue. © 18Aug14, B307058. R65901, 21Aug50. THE DANGER TRAIL, by James Willard Schultz; with illus. By George Varian. © 15Jun23, A705867. R69676, 9Nov50, Jessie Donaldson Schultz (W) LE DANGEREUX JEUNE HOMME, par René Boylesve. [Real name: René Tardivaux] © 19Jan21, AF18008. R68399, 13Oct50, Marie Mors-Boylesve (née Marie Boylesve) (NK) DANIELL, Carita (Spencer) SEE Ireland's story. R68922. DANIELSON, Fannie (Hurst) SEE Hurst, Fannie. DANIELSON, Mrs. J. S. SEE Hurst, Fannie. DANS LE JARDIN DU FEMINISME, par Colette Yver [pseud. d'Antoinette Huzard] © 1Dec20, AF17891. R68398, 13Oct50, Colette Yver [pseud. d'Antoinette Huzard, née Antoinette de Bergevin] (A) <pb id='216.png' /> DANTE Alighieri. SEE La vita nuova di Dante Alighieri. R67734. DANTE AND HIS INFLUENCE, studies, by Thomas Nelson Page. (University of Virginia, Florence Lathrop Page-Barbour Foundation) © 20Oct22, A686430. R65671, 8Aug50, Ruth Nelson Page (W) DARE DEVILS OF THE PONY EXPRESS, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Aug. 12, 1923 issue. © 12Aug23, A713280. R68083, 6Oct50. THE DARK RIVER, by Sarah Gertrude Millin. © 8Oct20, (pub. abroad 5Feb20, AI-3765), A608015. R72046, 27Dec50, Sarah Gertrude Millin (A) THE DARKNESS AT WINDON MANOR, by Max Brand [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Argosy magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Apr. 21, 1923 issue. © 19Apr23, B575121. R69449, 1Nov50. Apr. 28, 1923 issue. © 26Apr23, B575554. R69450, 1Nov50. May 5, 1923 issue. © 3May23, B576156. R69451, 1Nov50. May 12, 1923 issue. © 10May23, B576552. R69452, 1Nov50. DAUDET, Alphonse. SEE Lettres de mon moulin. R67295. DAVEILLANS, C. SEE La marraine de l'escouade. R71887. DAVIDS, Berkeley Reynolds. SEE New York law of wills. R64318. DAVIS, Kary Cadmus. SEE Horticulture. R64642. DAVIS, Owen. SEE Blow your own horn. R71153. Home fires. R71155. Icebound. R71156. Peacocks. R71157. Robin Hood. R71154. DAVIS, Philip. SEE Civics for new Americans. R64664. DAVIS, William Stearns. SEE Life on a mediaeval barony. R68950. DAY, Holman Francis. SEE The loving are the daring. R68959. DAY DREAMS, by Rudolph Valentino. © 30Jul23, A759952. R65609, 11Aug50, Alberto G. Valentino (NK) DAY IN TOWN, by William McFee. (In Shadowland) © William McFee (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 23Jul23, B583127. R64977, 26Jul50. DAYLESS DIAMONDS, by Arthur Somers Roche. (In Sunday star, Washington, D. C.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) Nov. 18, 1923 issue. © 18Nov23, A720666. R70294, 22Nov50. DAYTON, Fred E. SEE What happens when the state comes to market for fine art. R64007. DAYTON, Helena Smith. SEE Fashion show. R64010. Toot and come in. R64004. DEAD SOULS, by Nikolay Gogol; translated by Mrs. Edward Garnett [i. e., Constance Black Garnett] (The collected works of Nikolay Gogol, v. 1 and 2) © 23Apr23, (pub. abroad 7Nov22), A704400. R71938, 1Dec50, David Garnett (C) <pb id='217.png' n='1950_h2/A/0073' /> THE DEATH BELL, by Edison Marshall. (In Short stories) © Edison Marshall (A) Sept. 25, 1923 issue. © 25Sep23, B586727. R67537, 26Sep50. DEBORA E JAELE, dramma in tre atti di Ildebrando Pizzetti. Canto e pianoforte. Riduzione di Vito Frassi. © 21Dec22, D26393. R70812, 1Dec50, Vito Frassi (A) DEBRIS, a play in three acts by Wilson Collison. © 26Feb23, D63756. R70507, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) DE CHAMBRUN, Clara (Longworth) comtesse. SEE Chambrun, Clara (Longworth) comtesse de. DEEP SEA HUNTERS IN THE FROZEN SEAS, by A. Hyatt Verrill. © 2Feb23, A696292. R72281, 28Dec50, A. Hyatt Verrill (A) DEFOE, Daniel. SEE The fortunes and misfortunes of the famous Moll Flanders. R71940. DE LACRETELLE, Jacques. SEE Lacretelle, Jacques de. DE LA MARE, Walter John. SEE Crossings. R71953. The riddle, and other tales. R71280. DE LA ROCHE, Mazo. SEE Possession. R71140. THE DELICIOUS AROMA OF AN OPENED CAN is a promise ... (Coffee) © 21Sep23, Print 7096. R70362, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) DELL, Floyd. SEE Janet March. R68150. DELLA ROBBIA MINTS. (Candy) © 15Jan23, Label 36208. R70103, 13Nov50, Norris inc. (P) DEMAND THIS BRAND. (Ham and bacon) © 23Feb23, Print 6644. R67899, 2Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) DE MATTOS, Alexander Louis Teixeira. SEE Teixeira de Mattos, Alexander Louis. DEMING, Horace G. SEE General chemistry; an elementary survey. R72256. DE MONTHERLANT, Henry. SEE Montherlant, Henry de. DENIZENS OF THE DESERT; a book of southwestern mammals, birds and reptiles, by Edmund C. Jaeger. © 17Nov22, A692053. R68668, 23Oct50, Edmund C. Jaeger (A) DENNIS, Geoffrey. SEE Mary Lee. R63974. DENNY, Grace Goldena. SEE Fabrics and how to know them. R69621. DERIEUX, Samuel A. SEE Animal personalities. R67004. THE DESERT HEALER, by Edith M. Hull. © 23Jun23, A705970. R65123, 27Jul50, Cecil Winstanley Hull (C) THE DESERT PATROL, by James Craig [pseud. of Roy J. Snell] (The Radio-phone boys stories) © 31Jul23, A752364. R66431, 14Aug50, Whitman Publishing Co. (PWH) DESERT RUBAIYAT, by Arthur C. Train. (In McCall's magazine) © Helen C. Train (W) June 1923 issue. © 10May23, B576564. R69499, 8Nov50. <pb id='218.png' /> (In Washington Sunday star) © Helen C. Train (W) Dec. 9, 1923 issue. © 9Dec23, A720673. R71502, 13Dec50. DETECTIVE STORY MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 56, nos. 3-6, v. 57, nos. 1-6, v. 58, nos. 1-6, v. 59, nos. 1-6, Mar. 17-Aug. 11, 1923. © 13Mar23, B572515; 20Mar23, B572516; 27Mar23, B573446; 3Apr23, B573447; 10Apr23, B574320; 17Apr23, B574321; 24Apr23, B575463; 1May23, B575464; 8May23, B576485; 15May23, B576486; 22May23, B577561; 29May23, B577562; 5Jun23, B578380; 12Jun23, B578381; 19Jun23, B579451; 26Jun23, B579452; 3Jul23, B580281; 10Jul23, B581076; 17Jul23, B581014; 24Jul23, B581015; 31Jul23, B582193; 6Aug23, B583428. R65423-65444, 10Aug50. v. 60, nos. 1-6, Aug. 18-Sept. 22, 1923. © 13Aug23, B583429; 20Aug23, B583430; 28Aug23, B584448; 4Sep23, B584659; 11Sep23, B585374; 18Sep23, B585838. R70172-70177, 16Nov50. v. 61, nos. 1-6, Sept. 29-Nov. 3, 1923. © 25Sep23, B586438; 2Oct23, B586439; 9Oct23, B587462; 16Oct23, B587858; 23Oct23, B589136; 30Oct23, B589137. R70178-70183, 16Nov50. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE. by Howard Robinson. © 17Oct22, A686418. R64988, 31Jul50, Howard Robinson (A) THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SCIENCES [by Ernest W. Brown and others] Lorande Loss Woodruff, editor. © 19Oct23, A759687. R70094, 16Nov50, Donald B. Meyers (E) DEVLIN, Mrs. James. SEE Ashford, Daisy. LE DIABLE AU CORPS, roman, par Raymond Radiguet. © 9Mar23, AF22227. R65742, 1Aug50, Mme. vve. Radiguet, née Joanne Tournier (W) THE DIARY OF A PROBLEM, by Sam Hellman. (In the Saturday evening post) © Sam Hellman (A) Dec. 2, 1922 issue. © 29Nov22, B552777. R65510, 1Aug50. DIBBLE, Roy Floyd. SEE Strenuous Americans. R71175. DICE, BRASSKNUCKLES AND GUITAR, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. (In Hearst's international) © Frances Scott Fitzgerald Lanahan (C) May 1923 issue. © 20Apr23, B574396. R70982, 4Dec50. DICK AND LARRY: FRESHMEN, by Francis Lynde; illustrated by George Avison. © 6Oct22, A686171. R65666, 8Aug50, Mary Stickel Lynde (W) DICKIE, Francis. SEE The master breed. R64492. DIFFERENTIAL EQUATIONS IN APPLIED CHEMISTRY, by Frank Lauren Hitchcock and Clark Shove Robinson. © 6Oct23, A759375. R71861, 19Dec50, Frank Lauren Hitchcock (A) & Florence C. Robinson (W) DILNOT, Frank. SEE Lloyd George; the man and his story. R63976. THE DINNER CLUB, stories by Sapper [pseud. of H. C. McNeile] © 14Sep23, (pub. abroad 12Apr23, AI-5077), A752935. R67207, 18Sep50, Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) <pb id='219.png' /> LES DISCOURS DU DOCTEUR O'GRADY, par André Maurois [name originally; Émile Salomon Wilhelm Herzog] © 15Feb22, AF19622. R64181, 10Jul50, André Maurois (ps. de Émile Herzog) (A) DISSONANCE, by Amy Lowell. (In Rhythmus) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 1923 issue. © 5Jan23, B567144. R67414, 20Sep50. THE DIVINE FIRE, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172701. R64066, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) DIXON, Homera Homer. SEE Homer-Dixon, Homera. THE DIZZY HEIGHTS, a play in one act, By Paul Gerard Smith. © 20Jul22, D61442. R64480, 18Jul50, Paul Gerard. Smith, inc. (PWH) DR. DOLITTLE'S POST OFFICE, by Hugh Lofting. © 14Sep23, A752961. R69623, 6Nov50, Josephine Lofting (W) THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT LITERATURE, psychological studies of life and letters, by Joseph Collins. © 25May23, A704706. R66788, 6Sep50, L. Beverley Chaney (E) & Richard B. Duane (E) DR. SUN YAT SEN: THE CENTRAL BANK OF CHINA, by American Bank Note Company, [Special C-486] © 11Jul23, K177408. R64700, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) DODD, Lee Wilson. SEE His Majesty Bunker Bean. R70501. DODGE, John Wilson. SEE The wishing well. R65083. DODGE, May Hewes. SEE The wishing well. R65083. DOENCH, Eda S. SEE The announcement. R64076. The eternal flame. R64075. A friend in need. R64068. His hour. R64062. His message. R64074. Puss in arms. R64063. The spirit of the flowers. R64073. Temptation. R64077. DOES IT PAY? A photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 1Sep23, L19410. R68441, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE DOMINANT SEX, a study in the sociology of sex differentiation, by Mathilda and Mathias Vaerting; translated from the German by Eden and Cedar Paul. © 20Jul23, (pub. abroad 8May23, AI-5149), A711290. R65128, 24Jul50, Cedar Paul (A) DON JUAN, by Ludwig Lewisohn. © 8Oct23, A759416. R71172, 7Dec50, Ludwig Lewisohn (A) DON Q, a romantic comedy in four acts by K. and Hesketh Prichard. © 20Dec20, D56324. R72270, 28Dec50, Lady Elizabeth Motion (W of H. Prichard) DON QUIXOTE, by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. Abridgement from Charles Jervas's translation, by William Dean Howells; introd. by Mildred Howells. © on abridgement; 14Sep23, A752993. R69928, 10Nov50, Mildred Howells (C) DONNELLY, Dorothy. SEE Poppy comes to town. R70415. <pb id='220.png' n='1950_h2/A/0074' /> THE DONNINGTON AFFAIR, by G. K. Chesterton. (In Metropolitan) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Oct. 1914 issue. © 22Sep14, B308161. R72140, 26Dec50. Nov. 1914 issue. © 24Oct14, B309592. R72141, 26Dec50. DON'T WEAKEN, a comedy-drama. in a prologue and three acts by Harry Lewis. © 7Jun23, D64747. R66972, 13Sep50, Harry Lewis (A) DORGELES, Roland. SEE La réveil des morts. R64189. DOROTHÉE, DANSEUSE DE CORDE, par Maurice LeBlanc. © 10May23, AF22632. R64185, 10Jul50, Claude LeBlanc (C) DOS PASSOS, John. SEE Streets of night. R70035. DOSTOÏEVSKY (articles et causeries) par André Paul Guillaume Gide. © 15Jun23, AF22971. R64186, 10Jul50, André Gide (A) DOUBLE PLAY, a comedy in three acts by Caryl Harrison Bovell. © 3Nov22, D62665. R68886, 26Oct50, C. H. Bovell (A) DOUBLEDAY, Frank N. SEE A publisher's confession. R67963. DOUZE CENT MILLE, par Luc Durtain [pseud. de André Nepveu] © 18Oct22, AF21468. R66915, 12Sep50, Luc Durtain, ps. de André Nepveu (A) THE DOVE'S NEST AND OTHER STORIES, by Katherine Mansfield. © 15Aug23, (pub. abroad 21Jun23), A752615. R71281, 6Dec50, J. Middleton Murry (Wr) DOWD, Francis Joseph. SEE Howard Pyle's Book of the American spirit; the romance of American history. R68966. DOWST, Henry Payson. SEE And they lived happily ever after. R67955. DOYLE, Sir Arthur Conan. SEE The adventure of the creeping man. R65266. The adventure of the Mazarin stone. R65265. The case for spirit photography. R65900. The coming of the fairies. R65899. Danger. R65901. The evidence for fairies. R66438. Fairies photographed. R66437. The guards came through. R65898. History of the Great War. R66434. Our American adventure. R65933. Three of them. R65931. The vital message. R65930. Wanderings of a spiritualist. R65932. DRAGO, Harry Sinclair. SEE The stuff of a man. R68189. Suzanna. R64869. Whispering sage. R65211. THE DRAGON. R67118. SEE Three wonder plays. DRAMATIZED MISSIONARY STORIES, by Mary M. Russell. (2) © 2Oct22, A683697. R63975, 29Jun50, Mary M. Russell (A) DRAYTON, Grace G. SEE The night before Christmas. R70377. <pb id='221.png' /> THE DREAMS OF CHANG AND OTHER STORIES, by Ivan Bunin; translated by Bernard Guilbert Guerney. © 28Sep23, A760294. R71946, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) DREGELY, Gabriel. SEE Der Gatte des Fraeuleins. R69082. DRIFTWOOD, a melodrama of the South Seas by Wilson Collison. © 26Feb23, D63927. R70508, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) DRINKWATER, John. SEE Robert E. Lee. R69693. The way of poetry. R64985. DRUMS OF DOOM, by Robert Welles Ritchie. © 17Mar23, A696850. R65759, 8Aug50, Robert Welles Ritchie (A) DUBLIN DAYS, by L. A. G. Strong. © 14Apr23, A704247. R67272, 18Sep50, L. A. G. Strong (A) DUGGAR, John Frederick. SEE Agriculture for southern schools. R70275. Teachers' handbook to accompany Agriculture for southern schools. R70276. DUKES, Ashley. SEE From morn to midnight. R66526. DULCY, a comedy in three acts by George S. Kaufman and Marc Connelly. © 2May23, D64385. R65679, 8Aug50, George S. Kaufman (A), Marc Connelly (A) DULIN, Dorothy. SEE Busy little Brownies. R71573. Fairies of the nine hills. R71575. Fireside stories. R71574. DUMESTRE, Gaston. SEE Flup. R70839. DUNCAN, Marie. SEE One exciting night. R66780. The white rose. R66787. DUNCAN, Mary Bruce. SEE One exciting night. R66780. The white rose. R66787. DUPUIS, Albert. SEE La passion. R70837. DURAND, Ruth (Sawyer) SEE Sawyer, Ruth. DURING THE MOST VIOLENT SHOCKS OF THE TYPHOON THE MAN AT THE PEQUOD'S JAWBONE TILLER HAD SEVERAL TIMES BEEN REELINGLY HURLED TO THE DECK, by Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169291. R67344, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) DURTAIN, Luc. SEE Douze cent mille. R66915. DUSK OF MOONRISE, by Diane Patrick [pseud. of Desemea Newman Wilson] © 5Jan23, A696161. R69270, 3Nov50, Desemea Wilson (A) DUST IN THE DOORWAY, by Dixie Willson. (In McClure's) © Dixie Willson (A) Feb. 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B568177. R72268, 28Dec50. DUST OF THE DESERT, by Robert Welles Ritchie. © 9Sep22, A683180. R65758, 8Aug50, Robert Welles Ritchie (A) DUTTON (E. P.) and Company, inc. SEE Nacha Regules. R72052. <pb id='222.png' /> DUVALL, Newell. SEE Federal statutes annotated; supplement, 1922. R64312. DUYSTERS, M. SEE Instructions pour l'emploi de la [sic] machines a coudre Singer nos. 127 et 128. R72238. DWELLERS IN THE SANCTUARY, by Archibald Rutledge. (In the Outlook) © Archibald Rutledge (A) Nov. 7, 1923 issue. © 2Nov23, B589196. R70138, 20Nov50. "D'YE MARK HIM, FLASK?" WHISPERED STUBB. THE chick that's in him pecks the shell. 'Twill soon be out. By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., In Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169284. R67337, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) DYER, Elizabeth. SEE Textile fabrics. R71507. DYNAMIC SYMMETRY IN COMPOSITION AS USED BY THE ARTISTS, by Jay Hambidge. © 8Oct23, A759354. R68501, 16Oct50, Mrs. Jay Hambidge (W) EAKLE, Arthur S. SEE Mineral tables; for the determination of minerals by their physical properties. R72258. EARLY AMERICAN DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE; domestic architecture of the American Colonies and of the early Republic, by Fiske Kimball. © 24Nov22, A692315. R68255, 15Oct50, Fiske Kimball (A) EARLY DAY MAIL SERVICE IN CALIFORNIA, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Sept. 2, 1923 issue. © 2Sep23, A714202. R68086, 6Oct50. EARTH AND SUN, a hypothesis of weather and sunspots, by Ellsworth Huntington; 1 chapter by H. Helm Clayton. © 7Sep23, A759102. R67254, 18Sep50, Mrs. Ellsworth Huntington (W) EARTH spirit. R67277. SEE Tragedies of sex. EASEL PICTURE, by Amy Lowell. (In Dial) © Ada D. Russell (E) Oct. 1922 issue. © 25Sep22, B548530. R67415, 20Sep50. EASTER TREASURY NO. 28; edited by Karl K. Lorenz. © 16Jan23, A695724. R68722, 25Oct50, Lorenz Publishing Co. (PWH) THE EASY METHOD OF READING MUSIC, by Daniel W. Hunter. © 18Apr23, A707095. R64082, 3Jul50, Daniel W. Hunter (A) EATON, James W. SEE Handbook of equity jurisprudence. R64356. THE EBB-TIDE; WEIR OF HERMISTON; HEATHERCAT; THE YOUNG CHEVALIER. By Robert Louis Stevenson. Vailima ed., edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, v. 18) © on notes and editorial work; 15Dec22, A690620. R71087, 6Dec50, Alan Osbourne (NK) ECHARD, Margaret. SEE The chaperones. R68462. Cupid aboard. R68474. Everybody's daddy. R68477. <pb id='223.png' n='1950_h2/A/0075' /> A gob of relations. R68464. The heart fixer. R68476. The heir to a harem. R68465. The House of David. R68475. Mama's boy. R68463. Movie mad. R68466. Nobody much. R68468. Oh Henry! R68469. Papa's wild. R68467. A step family. R68470. Sweethearts again. R68471. Undressed kids. R68473. You oughta see Phil. R68472. ECLIPSE. (Oranges) © 1Nov23, Label 27120. R70239, 20Nov50, glendora Mutual Orange Assn. (P) THE ECONOMICS OF MARKETING AND ADVERTISING, by W. D. Moriarty. © 23May23, A705568. R66249, 14Aug50, John S. Moriarty (C) EDGINTON, Helen Marion. SEE Secrets. R69553. Triumph. R71203 ... EDGINTON, May. SEE Edginton, Helen Marion. EDITORIAL Publications, Inc. SEE Antiques. EDUCATION AND TRAINING FOR SOCIAL WORK, BY James H. Tufts. © 11May23, A705479. R69491, 8Nov50, Russell Sage Foundation (PWH) EELLS, Elsie Spicer. SEE The islands of magic. Legends, folk and fairy tales from the Azores. R68005. THE EGG, a photoplay In two reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 1Oct22, L18274. R66172, 24Aug50, Loew's Inc. (PWH) EGGLESTON, Margaret (White) SEE Womanhood In the making. R71049. ELDRIDGE, Harold N. SEE Federal statutes annotated; supplement, 1922. R64312. ELECTRICITY AND MAGNETISM, the science of power, by Robin Beach and Ernest J. Streubel. (The Popular science library, v. 6-7) © 15Dec22, A692483. R66316, 28Aug50, P. F. collier & Son Corp. (PWH) ELEMENTARY LATIN, by B. L. Ullman and Norman E. Henry. © 27Feb23, A696530. R70720, 29May50, B. L. Ullman (A) & Miriam R. Hambleton (W) ELEMENTARY STEAM POWER ENGINEERING, by Edgar MacNaughton. © 28Aug23, A752822. R71859, 19Dec50, Edgar MacNaughton (A) ELEMENTS OF APPLIED PHYSICS, by Alpheus W. Smith. © 10Apr23, A704165. R67309, 18Sep50, Alpheus W. Smith (A) ELEMENTS OF ENGINEERING THERMODYNAMICS, by James A. Moyer, James P. Calderwood and Andrey A. Potter. 2d ed. Rev. © 27Sep23, A760245. R71863, 19Dec50, Dorothy T. Moyer (W), Coral P. Calderwood (W) & Andrey A. Potter (A) ELEMENTS OF GRAPHIC STATICS, by Clarence W. Hudson and Edward J. squire. 1st ed. © 7Jun23, A704819. R67312, 18Sep50, James Hudson (C) & Edward J. Squire (A) <pb id='224.png' /> ELEMENTS OF MACHINE DESIGN, by Dexter S. Kimball and John H. Barr. 2d ed. Rev. © 22May23, A704794. R71098, 30Nov50, Dexter S. Kimball (A) & John H. Barr, Jr. (C) ELEMENTS OF MINING, by George J. Young, 2d ed. © 2Feb23, A696261. R67305, 18Sep50, George J. Young (A) ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL SCIENCE, by Stephen Leacock. © on revised text and additional new matter; 21Dec21, A653570. R68516, 16Oct50, George Leacock (E), Barbara Nimmo (E) & Frank Chauvin (E) THE ELEMENTS OF RAILROAD ENGINEERING, by William G. Raymond. 4th ed., rev. © 19Dec23, A765543. R72260, 27Dec50, Helen W. Scott (W) THE ELEVENTH HOUR a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 1Aug23, L19412. R68443, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ELINE'S, inc. SEE The beauty which glows from within. R66078. ELIOT, Ethel Cook. SEE The wind boy. R69077. ELIOT, Samuel Atkins. SEE Tragedies of sex. R67277 ÉLISE, par René Boylesve. [Real name; René Tardivaux] © 1Jul21, AF18399. R68401, 13Oct50, Marie Mora-Boylesve (née Maria Boylesve) (NK) ELKIN, R. H. SEE Anima allegra (The Joyous soul). R68569. ELLIOTT, William F. SEE The commentaries on the law of contracts, cumulative supplement R72191. Ellis, Edith. SEE The judsons entertain. R71152. ELLIS, Havelock. SEE The dance of life. R71675. ELSON, Henry William. SEE History of the United States of America. R70297. ELSON (Nathan) and Company, Inc. SEE Ben Bey. R67806. EMERGENCY CASE, a play in one act by Martin A. Flavin. © 10Jul23, D64997. R64219, 13Jul50, Martin A. Flavin (A) EMERSON, Charles P. SEE Hygiene and health. R63915. Physiology and hygiene. R63916. EMERY, Gilbert, pseud. SEE Pottle, Emery Bemsley. EN ROUTE, a play by Paul Gerard Smith. © 21Sep22, D61976. R67330, 20Sep50, Paul Gerard Smith, inc. (PWH) ENEMIES. SEE Jealousy; Enemies; The law of the savage. R71178. ENGINEERING DRAWING, by H. H. Jordan and R. P. Hoelscher. © 28Aug23, A752824. R71860, 19Dec50, H. H. Jordan (A) ENGLISH ANALYSIS AND EXPOSITION, by Lucius Hudson Holt and Alexander Wheeler Chilton. © 30Jul23, A752309. R66248, 10Aug50, Lucius H. Holt (A) & Alexander Wheeler Chilton (A) <pb id='225.png' /> ENGLISH WORDS AND THEIR BACKGROUND, by George H. McKnight. © 2Jan23, A690965. R72279, 28Dec50, George H. McKnight (A) ENOUGH IS TOO MUCH, a farce in three acts by Wilson Collison. © 9Oct23, D65695. R70511, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) L'ENTRAINEUSE, PAR André Corthis. © 8Jun23, AF23897. R64191, 10Jul50, André Corthis (A) EPOUSE-LA! Opérette en trois actée de Pierre Véber; musique de Henri Hirchmann. Partition: complète chant et piano. © 24Apr23, D26441. R71889, 22Dec50, Henri Hirchmann (A) ERIS, by Robert W. Chambers. © 20Jul23, A760032. R65130, 24Jul50, Robert H. S. Chambers (C) ERWARTUNG (Monodram) Dichtung von Marie Pappenheim, Musik von Arnold Schönberg. Op.17. Klavierauszug mit Text von Eduard Steuermann. © 10Jan23, D26448. R69990, 14Nov50, Eduard Steuermann (A) Arnold Schönberg (A) ESCAPADE, by Evelyn Scott [real name; Elsie (Dunn) Wellman afterwards Metcalfe] © 20Jul23, A711439. R65118, 25Jul50, Evelyn Dunn Scott Metcalfe (A) ESSENTIALS OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE, by Simon Litman. © 26Nov23, A765221. R71864, 19Dec50, Simon Litman (A) ESTAUNIE, Edouard. SEE L'infirme aux mains de lumière. R65753. L'ESTHETIQUE DE L'ORGUE, par Jean Hure: avec pref. de M. Ch. M. Widor. © 21Jun23, AF22802. R69894, 1Nov50, Blanche Gellée, vve Hure (W) THE ETERNAL FLAME, by Eda S. Doench. (727) © 22Jun23, K176191. R64075, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) ETIQUETTE IN SOCIETY, IN BUSINESS, IN POLITICS AND AT HOME, by Emily (Price) Post. © 24Jul22, A677910. R64036, 12Jul50, Emily Post (Mrs. Price Post) (A) EUROPE, 1450-1789, by Edward Raymond Turner. © 14Sep23, A759191. R67209, 18Sep50, Eleanor Bowie Turner (C) EUROPE AND ELSEWHERE, by Mark Twain [pseud. of Samuel L. Clemens] with an appreciation by Brandar Matthews and an introd. by Albert Bigelow Paine. © 20Aug23, A711602. R66667, 31Aug50, The Mark Twain Co. (PWH) EVANS, Mary. SEE Costume silhouettes. R71290. EVARTS, Hal George. SEE Tumbleweeds. R70101. EVERYBODY'S DADDY, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 12Oct23, D65726. R68477, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) THE EVIDENCE FOR FAIRIES, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 25Apr21, (pub. abroad 25Feb21), A614231. R66438, 30Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annetta Conan Doyle (C) THE EVOLUTION AND SIGNIFICANCE OF THE MODERN HEALTH CAMPAIGN, by Charles Edward Amory Winslow. © 19Oct23, A759686. R68686, 24Oct50, Charles-Edward Amory Winslow (A) <pb id='226.png' n='1950_h2/A/0076' /> EXERCISES IN MELODY WRITING, by Percy Goetschius. 9th ed. Rev. © 30Jul23, A711527. R71844, 18Dec50, Percy B. Goetschius (C) EXETER. (Oranges) © 11Jun23, Label 26552. R63884, 3Jul50, Exeter Orange Growers Assn. (P) EXETER Orange Growers Association SEE Exeter. R63884. THE EXILES, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 14Oct23, L19565. R71016, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE EXIT OF BATTLING BILLSON, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, B589700. R70390, 20Nov50. AN EXPERIMENT IN ELECTRICITY, by H. C. McNeile. (pub. abroad in Pearson's magazine, in U.S., with illus. by George W. Gage, in McClure's) © Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) Jan. 1924 issue (McClure's), June 1923 issue (Pearson's) © 25Dec23, (pub. abroad 1Jun23, AI-5229), A720943. R72050, 27Dec50. THE EXPLORERS, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 9Sep23, L19576. R68453, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) EXPORT ADVERTISING, by David Leslie Brown. © 1Feb23, A698490. R70499, 27Nov50, David Leslie Brown (A) EXTERIOR TO THE EVIDENCE, by J. S. Fletcher. © 15May23, A705450. R71277, 5Dec50, Rosamond Grant Fletcher (W) THE EXTRA DAY by Algernon Blackwood. © 5Oct15, A411828. R71873, 21Dec50, Algernon Blackwood (A) EYLES, Margaret Leonora (Pitcairn) SEE Hidden lives. R71170. EYRE, Laurence. SEE The shillin piece. R68527. FABIAN, Warner. SEE Flaming youth. R65282 ... FABRE, Jean Henri Casimir. SEE The life of the scorpion. R65124. FABRICS AND HOW TO KNOW THEM, by Grace Goldena Denny. © 6Jan23, A698640. R69621, 6Nov50, Grace G. Denny (A) THE FABRIC'S THE THING. (Piece goods) © 28Jun23, Print 6860. R64023, 10Jul50, The Cyril Johnson Woolen Co. (P) FACT, by Amy Lowell. (In Scribner's) © Ada D. Russell. (E) Mar. 1923 Issue. © 23Feb23, B570872. R67416, 20Sep50. FAIRBANKS, Douglas. SEE Robin Hood. R68208. FAIRIES OF THE NINE HILLS, by N. Moore Banta; illustrated by Dorothy Dulin. © 27Jan23, A698178. R71575, 18Dec50, A. Flanagan Co. (PWH) FAIRIES PHOTOGRAPHED, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 9Feb21, (pub. abroad Dec. 1920). A608544. R66437, 30Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) <pb id='227.png' /> THE FAIRY FLUTE, by Rose Fyleman. © 30Nov23, A765281. R71039, 1Dec50, Rose Fyleman (A) THE FAIRY GREEN, by Rose Fyleman. © 30Nov23, A765282. R71266, 1Dec50, Rose Fyleman (A) FALL OF BABYLON, a play in three acts by Wilson Collison. © 16Mar23, D63962. R70509, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) FALLS, Charles Buckles. SEE ABC book. R68787. FAMILY, by Wayland Wells Williams. © 29Mar23, A704001. R71677, 14Dec50, Frances W. Williams (NK) FARIS, John Thomson. SEE Seeing the Middle West. R71289. FARJEON, Eleanor. SEE The soul of Kol Nikon. R71680. FARNOL, Jeffery. SEE Peregrine's progress. R67681. FARRAR, John. SEE The bookman anthology of essays, 1923. R69607. The magic sea shell and other plays for children. R69608. FASHION SHOW, a play in one act by Helena Smith Dayton. © 24May23, D64594. R64010, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) FATHER Damien. R68251. SEE The wrong box. FAURE, Elie. SEE Renaissance art. R68961. FAUST, Frederick. SEE Bandit of the Black Hills. R69437. Black shadows of Sawtrell House. R69443. The cabin in the pines. R64896. A Christmas encounter. R67874. The darkness at Windon Manor. R69449. Gold King turns his back. R69453. Hired guns. R67879. The hopeless case. R64893. Jargon. R64895. Joe White's brand. R64891. Kain. R64898. Phil, the fiddler. R67876. The power of prayer. R67875. Sealed for 50 years. R64897. Sunset wins. R69454. Two sixes. R69455. Under his shirt. R67878. Wild freedom. R64894. Winking lights. R67877. Without a penny in the world. R64892. FEATHERS LEFT AROUND, by Carolyn Wells. © 17Jan23, A698513. R71283, 6Dec50, Bridgett Mary O'Connell (E) FEDERAL REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 286, nos. 1-5, Apr. 5-May 3, 1923. © 4Apr23, B574111; 11Apr23, B575589; 19Apr23, B575454; 25Apr23, B575830; 3May23, B576298. R64338-64342, 10Jul50. v. 287, nos. 1-5, May 10-June 7, 1923. © 9May23, B577209; 17May23, B581222; 24May23, B577973; 30May23, B578452; 6Jun23, B578748. R64343-64347, 10Jul50. <pb id='228.png' /> v. 288, nos. 1-3, June 14-28, 1923. © 14Jun23, B579221; 20Jun23, B579683; 27Jun23, B580225. R64348-64350, 10Jul50. v. 288, nos. 4-6, July 5-19, 1923. © 5Jul23, B580732; 12Jul23, B581082, 19Jul23, B581680. R68306-68308, 13Oct50. v. 289, nos. 1-5, July 26-Sept. 6, 1923. © 25Jul23, B582185; 1Aug23, B582688; 24Aug23, B584035; 30Aug23, B584511; 5Sep23, B585279. R68309-68313, 13Oct50. v. 290. nos. 1-3, Sept. 13-27, 1923. © 14Sep23, B585615; 21Sep23, B586161; 27Sep23, B586683. R68314-68316, 13Oct50. FEDERAL REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, United States series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 285, Feb.-Mar. 1923 © 17May23, A752254. R64351, 10Jul50. v. 286, Apr.-May 1923. © 19Jun23, A752255. R64352, 10Jul50. v. 287, May-June, 1923. © 22Aug23, A760931. R68272, 13Oct50. v. 288, June-July, 1923. © 18Sep23, A760932. R68273, 13Oct50. FEDERAL STATUTES ANNOTATED; SUPPLEMENT, 1922, edited by Harold N. Eldridge, Newell Duvall and staff. 2d ed. © 26Apr23, A855618. R64312, 10Jul50, Edward Thompson Co. (PWH) FEDERER, C. A. SEE A toreador of Spain. R67700. FELD, Leo. SEE Die heilige Ene. R69992. LE FELIN GÉANT, par J. H. Rosny, Ainé. © 25Mar20, AF17014. R71789, 14Dec50, Robert Zdzislas Henri de Kalinowski, dit Borel-Rosny (NK) FERBER, Edna. SEE Gigolo. R64214. Home girl. R64215. FETE GALANTE, a dance-dream in one act after Maurice Baring's story of that name. Dramatized and composed by Ethel Smyth; poetic version by Edward Shanks. Vocal score. © 15Feb23, D26494. R71647, 14Nov50, Ethel Davidson (NK of Ethel Smyth) FEU LA MÈRE DE MADAME, pièce en un act par Georges Feydeau. (In La Petite illustration. Théâtre nouv. sér., no. 92) © 7Apr23, D64442. R64193, 10Jul50, Jacques Feydeau (C) FEYDEAU, Georges Léon Jules Marie. SEE Feu la mère de madame. R64193. FIDELITY. (Oranges) © 1Nov23, Label 27119. R70238, 20Nov50, Glendora Mutual Orange Assn. (P) FIELD, Edward Salisbury. SEE Zander the great. R64655. FIELD, Salisbury. SEE Field, Edward Salisbury. FIELD GEOLOGY, by Frederick H. Lahee. 2d ed., rev. and enl. © 5Mar23, A696679. R67306, 18Sep50, Frederick H. Lahee (A) FIFTY PLANS FOR FIFTY THEMES, by J. Rowe Webster. © 19May23, A704655. R71881, 22Dec50, J. Rowe Webster (A) FIGHTING BLOOD, a series of photoplays by R-C Pictures Corp. Two reels each. © RKO Radio Pictures, inc. (PWH) Round 1. © 11Jan23, L18581. R71837, 19Dec50. <pb id='229.png' n='1950_h2/A/0077' /> Round 2. The knight in gale. © 11Jan23, L18582. R71838, 19Dec50. Round 3. Six-second Smith © 11Jan23, L18583. R71839, 19Dec50. Round 4. Two stones with one bird. © 1Apr23, L20138. R71840, 19Dec50. Round 5. Some punches and Judy. © 2Apr23, L18846. R71841, 19Dec50. FIGHTING BLOOD, by H. C. Witwer. (In Collier's) © Zada Witwer Horbach (W) 10. Dec. 2, 1922 issue. The end of a perfect fray. © 28Nov22, B552772. R70102, 16Nov50. THE FILIPINO TWINS, by Lucy Fitch Perkins. © 21Sep23, A759140. R69683, 9Nov50, Eleanor Ellis Perkins (C) & Lawrence B. Perkins (C) FILLMORE, Parker. SEE Mighty Mikko. A book of Finnish fairy tales and folk tales. R68008. FINDERS: MORE POEMS IN AMERICAN, by John V. A. Weaver. © 2Jan23, A690932. R71269, 5Dec50, Margaret Wood Walling (W) FINE FLAVOR COMES FROM FINE QUALITY. (Coffee) © 17Apr23, Print 6773. R70345, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FINN, Francis James. SEE On the run. R66220. FIRESIDE STORIES, by Annie Klingensmith; illustrated by Dorothy Dulin. © 2Jan23, A692760. R71574, 18Dec50, A. Flanagan Co. (PWH) FIRST CHOICE. (Coffee) © 23Mar23, Print 6699. R70343, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE FIRST DANCING LESSON, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172707. R64072, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) FIRST EIGHTEEN DECANATES ANALYZED; the brotherhood of light, by Elbert Benjamine. (Natal astrology, 103, course X-A) © 30Dec22, A702260. R65379, 9Aug50, Elbert Benjamine (A) FIRST IN FLAVOR. (Coffee) © 23Feb23, Print 6697. R70341, 24Nov50, hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FIRST IN FRESHNESS. (Coffee) © 16Feb23, Print 6696. R70340, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FIRST IN PERFECTION. (Coffee) © 16Mar23, Print 6693. R70337, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FIRST IN QUALITY. (Coffee) © 9Mar23, Print 6695. R70339, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FIRST IN VACUUM. (Coffee) © 9Feb23, Print 6698. R70342, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE FIRST OF MAY, a Girl Scout play in three acts by Virginia Park Matthias. (French's international edition) © 30Dec22, D63508. R71151, 6Dec50, Virginia Park Matthias (A) FIRST ON THE LIST. (Coffee) © 23Mar23, Print 6748. R70344, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FIRST TRY. (Coffee) © 2Mar23, Print 6694. R70338, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FISCHER, Carl. SEE Superior violin fingerboard chart. R65996. <pb id='230.png' /> FISCHER (Carl) inc. SEE Superior violin fingerboard chart. R65996. FISH, Helen (Dean) SEE The boys' book of verse. R68202. FISHER, Dorothea Frances (Canfield) SEE Rough-hewn. R66815. FISHER, Dorothy (Canfield) SEE Fisher, Dorothea Frances (Canfield) FISHER, Irving. SEE How to live. R64053. The making of index numbers. R67914. FISK, Eugene Lyman. SEE How to live. R64053. FITZGERALD, Francis Scott Key. SEE Dice, brassknuckles and guitar. R70982. Hot and cold blood. R70983. Invasion of the sanctuary. R70984. FLAGG, James Montgomery. SEE The critic. R64011. FLAHERTY, Frances (Hubbard) SEE My Eskimo friends; Nanook of the north. R69263. FLAHERTY, Martin C. SEE How to use the dictionary. R71969. FLAHERTY, Robert Joseph. SEE My Eskimo friends; Nanook of the north. R69263. FLAMING YOUTH, by Warner Fabian. (In Metropolitan magazine) © Warner Fabian (A) Sept. 1922 issue. © 11Aug22, B533622. R65281, 4Aug50. Oct. 1922 issue. © 12Sep22, B547689. R65262, 4Aug50. Nov. 1922 issue. © 12Oct22, B549334. R65283, 4Aug50. Dec. 1922 issue. © 15Nov22, B551648. R65284, 4Aug50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 15Dec22, B554266. R65285, 4Aug50. Feb.-Mar. 1923 issue. © 23Feb23, B572164. R65286, 4Aug50. THE FLAMINGO FEATHER, by Kirk Munroe; illustrated by Frank E. Schoonover. © on illus.; 20Nov23, A759940. R70403, 21Nov50, Frank E. Schoonover (A) FLANAGAN (A.) Company. SEE Busy little Brownies. R71573. Fairies of the nine hills. R71575. Fireside stories. R71574. FLAVIN, Martin A. SEE Emergency case. R64219. THE FLAVOR DIFFERENCE. (Coffee) © 14Sep23, Print 7094. R70360, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FLAVOR IS THE HIDDEN DIFFERENCE. (Coffee) © 20Apr23, Print 6775. R70347, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FLERS, Robert de. SEE Ciboulette. R69898. Cydalise et le chevre-pied. R69900. FLESHPOT, by Rita Weiman. (In Redbook magazine) © Rita Weiman (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 23Jul23, B581998. R69234, 3Nov50. FLETCHER, Joseph Smith. SEE Exterior to the evidence. R71277. The lost Mr. Linthwaite. R71271. The Markenmore mystery. R71944. <pb id='231.png' /> LE FLEUVE DE FEU, par François Mauriac. (Collection "Le Roman") © 24May23, AF23024. R65744, 1Aug50, François Mauriac (A) FLEXNER, Abraham. SEE A modern college and a modern school. R68146. THE FLIGHT, by muriel (Hine) Coxon, "Mrs. Sidney Coxon." © 3Mar23 (pub. abroad 21Nov22, AI-4825), A698550. R64196, 2Jun50, Alfred Edward Ferris (E) & Sebastian Earl (E) THE FLORENTINE DAGGER, by Ben Hecht; illustrated by Wallace Smith. © 15Aug23, A760327. R67285, 18Sep50, Ben Hecht (A) FLORSHEIM, Harold M. SEE Styles of the times. R70106. FLORSHEIM Shoe Company. SEE Styles of the times. R70106. FLUP, opérette en trois actes de Gaston Dumestre, musique de Jósef Szulc. © 3May19, D52175. R70839, 29Nov50, Jósef Szulc (A), Mélenie Nexes, vve Dumestre (W) FLUTTER IN FINANCE, by Arthur Somers Roche. (In the Star, Washington, D. C.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) Sept. 23, 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, A720649. R70293, 22Nov50. FOLEY, Charles. SEE Un concert chez les fous. R68411. THE FOOL, by Channing Pollock. (In The best plays of 1922-23 and the year book of the drama in America; Burns Mantle, ed.) © 25Oct23, A760710. R70721, 29Nov50, Helen Channing Pollock (E) FOOTLIGHTS, by Rita Weiman. © 31Mar23, A698837. R65760, 8Aug50, Rita Weiman (A) A FOOTNOTE to history. R68252. SEE In the South Seas. FOOTSTEPS OF ISRAEL FROM EDEN TO THE CITY OF GOD, by Samuel Greenwood. © 8Dec22, A690573. R68913, 27Oct50, Nancy Wilband Greenwood (W) FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE, by W. B. Maxwell. Ad interim title: A remedy against sin. © 12May20, (pub. abroad 18Mar20, AI-3827), A566976. R65981, 7Aug50, Barbara Mary Sydney Maxwell (C) & Henry William Austin Maxwell (C) FORBIDDEN LOVE, synopsis by C. B. C. Film Sales Corporation. © 16Dec22, A695899. R71008, 5Dec50, Columbia Pictures Corp. (PWH) FORBIDDEN PARADISE, synopsis by C. B. C. Film Sales Corporation. © 16Dec22, A693959. R71007, 5Dec50, Columbia Pictures Corp. (PWH) THE FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES, by W. Somerset Maugham. (In Hearst's international) © W. Somerset Maugham (A) Jan. 1924 issue. © 20Dec23, B605461. R72200, 22Dec50. FORD, Harriet. SEE Wrong number. R69223. FORD, James Lauren. SEE Hot Corn Ike. R69274. FOREBODING SHIVERS RAN OVER ME; REALITY OUTRAN APPREHENSIONS. Captain Ahab stood upon his quarter-deck. By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169283. R67336, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) <pb id='232.png' n='1950_h2/A/0078' /> FOREIGN INFLUENCES IN ELIZABETHAN PLAYS, By Felix E. Schelling. © 26Jun23, A711009. R66247, 27Jul50, Gertrude B. Schelling (W) THE FORGOTTEN ERRAND, by Meta M. Grimball. © 13Feb23, K172702. R64067, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) FORK IN THE ROAD, by Arthur C. Train and Ethel Train. (In Collier's) © Helen C. Train (W) Jan. 13, 1923 issue. © 9Jan23, B567692. R69494, 8Nov50. FORSTER, Edward Morgan. SEE Pharos and Pharillon. R71049. THE FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES OF THE FAMOUS MOLL FLANDERS, by Daniel Defoe; with an introd. by Carl van Doren. © on introd.; 5Oct23, A759518. R71940, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) FORTUNE'S FOOL, by Rafael Sabatini. © 24Aug23, A711643. R69678, 9Nov50, Christine Sabatini (W) FORTUNE'S MASK, a photoplay In five reels by the Vitagraph Company of America. © 18Aug22, L18171. R64866, 26Jul50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PCB) FORZANO, Giovacchino. SEE I Compagnacci. R68511. FOSDICK, Harry Emerson. SEE Twelve tests of character. R64493. FOSTER, Jeanne Robert. SEE Rock-flower. R67265. FOSTER, Maximilian. SEE The silent partner. R71528. FOSTER, Nathaniel Ladd. SEE The widow might. R71147. FOSTER Lumber Company. SEE Sunflower brand roofing. R71508. FOUNDATIONS, ABUTMENTS AND FOOTINGS. George A. Hool and W. S. Kinne, assisted by Horace S. Baker, editors, [Rev. by R. R. Zipprodt and E. J. Kilcawley] © 21May23, A705554. R67314, 18Sep50, G. A. Hool (A) & W. S. Kinne (A) THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE MODERN COMMONWEALTH by Arthur N. Holcombe. © 13Aug23, A711545. R66665, 31Aug50, Arthur N. Holcombe (A) THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. (Coffee) © 27Oct22, Print 6566. R68264, 13Oct50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) FOUR DIMENSIONAL VISTAS, by Claude Bragdon. 2d ed. © 2Jan23, A692870. R71270, 5Dec50, Henry Bragdon (C) FOWL PLAY, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] (In Metropolitan magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) Nov. 1921 issue. © 14Oct21, B503584. R71426, 11Dec50. FOX, William. SEE William Fox presents to exhibitors everywhere a combination of special attractions ... R65950. FRANCE, Anatole. SEE Le crime de Sylvestre Bonnard. R67296. La vie en fleur. R68404. FRANCE TO SCANDINAVIA, by Frank G. Carpenter. (Carpenter's world travels) © 26Oct23, A759995. R69245, 27Oct50, Frances Carpenter Huntington (C) <pb id='233.png' /> FRANCIS JAMES CHILD, by Gamaliel Bradford. (In Atlantic monthly) © Helen P. Bradford (W) July 1923 issue. © 15Jun23, B579120. R69692, 9Nov50. FRANK, Waldo. SEE Cane. R67280. Holiday. R67281. FRASSI, Vito. SEE Debora e Jaele. R70812. FREAKS, FOOLS AND FUN OF THE DAYS OF FORTY-NINE, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune magazine) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) July 8, 1923 Issue. © 8Jul23, A671975. R68079, 6Oct50. FREDERICK, John, pseud. SEE Faust, Frederick. FREEMAN, Lee David. SEE All alone Susie. R64656. THE FRENCH DOLL, an English adaptation of the play entitled Jeune fille a marier, by Paul Armont and Marcel Gorbidon. © 23Aug22, D61735. R65692, 14Aug50, Ethel Dodd Thomas (W) FRIEL, Arthur Olney. SEE Cat-o'-mountain. R69567. FRIEND HUSBAND, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 12Sep23, L19406. R69374, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) A FRIEND IN NEED, by Eda S. Doench. © 13Feb23, K172703. R64068, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) THE FRIENDLY ADVENTURES OF OLLIE OSTRICH, by Janet Lewis [pseud. of Janet Lewis Winters] Illustrated by Fay Turpin. © 28Sep23, A759559. R67966, 6Oct50, Janet Lewis Winters (A) FRIENDS OF MY LIFE AS AN INDIAN, by James Willard Schultz. © 19Oct23, A760487. R69690, 9Nov50, Jessie Donaldson Schultz (W) "FROGIKIN" DRAWINGS to show internal structure of frog, by Ada Louise Weckel. © 28Sep23, IU8397. R70130, 15Nov50, Clara Weckel Stephenson (NK) FROM CAVE MAN TO MOTHER LODE, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune magazine) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) July 1, 1923 issue. © 1Jul23, A671655. R68078, 6Oct50. FROM MORN TO MIDNIGHT, a play in seven scenes translated from the German of Georg Kaiser by Ashley Dukes. © 26Sep22, D62311. R66526, 29Aug50, Ashley Dukes (A) FROM RAGS TO RICHES, a photoplay in seven reels by Warner Bros. © 16Sep22, L18226. R65219, 3Aug50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) FRONDAIE, Pierre. SEE Stamboul. R70836. THE FRONT PAGE STORY, a photoplay in six reels by Vitagraph Company of America. © 25Dec22, L18552. R68098, 6Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PCB) FROTHINGHAM, Robert. SEE Songs of challenge. R65918. FUESSLE, Newton. SEE Jessup. R67269. FULDA, Ludwig. SEE Die Geliebte. R70500. <pb id='234.png' /> FULL SPEED AHEAD, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 30Sep23, L19475. R68450, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE FUN BOOK. Stunts for every month in the year. By Edna Geister. © 19Oct23, A760798. R68783, 23Oct50, Edna Geister (A) THE FUN OF KNOWING FOLKS; a book about you and me, by Fred C. Kelly, with a foreword by Samuel G. Blythe. © 30Apr23, A706541. R69430, 2Nov50, Fred C. Kelly (A) FUNK AND WAGNALLS COMPANY. SEE The comprehensive standard dictionary of the English language. R67504. The concise standard dictionary of the English language. R67505. FURBER, DOUGLAS. SEE The cousin from nowhere. R66176. FURY, by Edmund Goulding. © 2Dec22, A692281. R67842, 2Oct50, Edmund Goulding (A) THE FUTURE OF PAINTING, by Willard Huntington Wright. © 9Apr23, A752018. R64523, 18Jul50, Claire R. Wright (W) FYLEMAN, ROSE. SEE The fairy flute. R71039. The fairy green. R71266. The rainbow cat. R70036. The Rose Fyleman fairy book. R70034. GABLE, SYLVIA. SEE Robin Hood. R68208. GAGE, GEORGE W. SEE The tenth woman. R67371. GAL, HANS. SEE Die heilige Ente. R69992. GALVEZ, MANUEL. SEE Nacha Regules. R72052. GARDENING IN CALIFORNIA, by Sydney B. Mitchell. © 5Oct23, A759669. R68149, 11Oct50, Sydney B. Mitchell (A) GARNETT, CONSTANCE (BLACK) SEE Dead Souls. R71938. The overcoat and other stories. R71950. GARNETT, DAVID. SEE Lady into fox. R71047. GARNETT, EDWARD. SEE Birds and man. R71273. THE GASPARDS OF PINE CROFT; A romance of Windermere, by Ralph Connor [pseud.] of Charles William Gordon © 2Nov23, A760770. R69606, 6Nov50, Helen Skinner Gordon (W) LA GASTRONOMIE PRATIQUE; études culinaires, suivies du traitement de l'obésité des gourmands, per Ali-Bab [pseud. of Henri Babinski] 3. ed. © 2Mar23, AF22397. R64182, 10Jul50, Simon Rigal (E) & Raymond Rigal (E) DER GATTE DES FRAEULEINS, Lustspiel in drei Aufzügen von Gabriel Dragely. © 8Sep23, D65438. R69082, 31Oct50, Hans Bartach (PWH) THE GAY YEAR, by Dorothy Speare. © 21Sep23, A759158. R67702, 27Sep50, Dorothy Speare (A) GEBRAUCHSANWEISUNG FÜR DIE SINGER NAHMASCHINEN nr. 127 und 128, von Frank Schubert. (Form 8402 German, Sept. 1922) © 9Nov22, A691439. R65071, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) <pb id='235.png' n='1950_h2/A/0079' /> GEISTER, Edna. SEE Breaking the ice in August. R66671. Breaking the ice in July. R66670. Breaking the ice in October. R68973. Breaking the ice in September. R68953. The fun book. R68783. DIE GELIEBTE, Komödie in drei Aufzügen von Ludwig Fulda. © 22Jan23, D63445. R70500, 27Nov50, Carl H. Fulda (C) THE GENEALOGY AND LIFE OF ASA GILBERT EDDY, Compiled from original manuscripts and personal letters, by Mary Beecher Longyear. © 1Sep22, A683131. R65273, 19Jul50, Abby Beecher Roberts (C), Helen Longyear Paul (C), Robert Dudley Longyear (C) & John M. Longyear, jr. (C) GENERAL CHEMISTRY; an elementary survey, by Horace G. Deming. © 25Aug23, A711769. R72256, 27Dec50, Horace G. Deming (A) GENTLE JULIA! A photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 3Dec23, L19676. R71783, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) GENTLEMEN OF LEISURE, a photoplay in 6 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 17Jul23, L19213. R64682, 24Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) GEOLOGY, the science of the earth's crust, by William J. Miller. (The Popular science library, v. 3) © 15Dec22, A692480. R66313, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) GEORGE, David Lloyd. SEE Lloyd George, David Lloyd George, 1st earl. GEORGE, Walter Lionel. SEE One of the guilty. R68968. GEORGE GISSING; a critical study, by Frank Swinnerton. © 16Nov23, A766126. R70389, 20Nov50, Frank Swinnerton (A) GEORGE WASHINGTON, by William Roscoe Thayer. © 29Sep22, A683664. R67232, 18Sep50, Margaret Thayer Lancaster (C) GERALDY, Paul. SEE You and me. R67271. GERHARDI, William. SEE Anton Chehov; a critical study. R71202. GERMAN HARRY, by W. Somerset Maugham. (In Cosmopolitan) © W. Somerset Maugham (A) Jan. 1924 issue. © 10Dec23, B604161. R71791, 13Dec50. GEROULD, Katharine (Fullerton) SEE Valiant dust. R68246. GHOSTS WHAT AIN'T, by Ellis Parker Butler. © 21Feb23, A698450. R69659, 9Nov50, Ida Ann Butler (W) GIBBS, C. Armstrong. SEE Crossings. R71953. GIBBS, Sir Philip Hamilton. SEE Adventures in journalism. R68969. GIDE, André Paul Guillaume. SEE Dostoïevsky. R64186. GIFFORD, Samuel Grant. SEE A treatise on the law of criminal evidence. R63917. GIGOLO, by Edna Ferber. (In Woman's home companion) © Edna Ferber (A) Nov. 1922 issue. © 25Sep22, B548171. R64214, 10Jul50. <pb id='236.png' /> GILBERT, C. Allan. SEE Butterfly. R67704. GILBERT, Frank B. SEE The law and practice in bankruptcy R64832. GIRAUDOUX, Jean. SEE Siegfried et le Limousin. R65740. THE GIRL IN THE FOG, by Joseph Gollomb. © 2Sep23, A711889. R67279, 18Sep50, Joseph Gollomb (A) THE GIRL IN WAITING, a comedy in four acts by J. Hartley Manners. Founded on Archibald Eyre's novel of the same title. (Baker's standard plays) © 6Sep22, D61866. R65391, 8Aug50, Central Hanover Bank and Trust Co (E) GIVE AND TAKE, a three-act play by Aaron Hoffman. [Act 3] © 24Nov22, D63186. R65272, 13Jul50, Minnia Z. Hoffman (W) GIZINSKI, Joseph Francis. SEE The art master of Norymberg. R63891. GLAMOUR, by W. B. Maxwell. © 31Oct19, A559752. R65980, 7Aug50, Barbara Mary Sydney Maxwell (C) & Henry William Austin Maxwell (C) GLASGOW, Ellen Anderson Gholson. SEE The shadowy third and other stories. R68784. GLENDORA Mutual Orange Association. SEE Eclipse. R70239. Fidelity. R70238. Spartan. R70237. GLIMPSES OF AUTHORS, by Caroline Ticknor © 6Oct22, A683657. R66905, 12Sep50, Emeline T. Hunnewell (NK) GLORIA HILL; BANCO DO BRASIL, by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1876) © 16Jul23, K177407. R64699, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) A GOB OF RELATIONS, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 28Mar23, D64066. R68464, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) THE GOD OF GENTLEMEN, by Arthur Tuckerman. (In Ainslee's) © Arthur Tuckerman (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 13Jul23, B580288. R64577, 14Jul50. GODFREY, Bert O. SEE Godfrey systematic pitchometer chart for checking propeller wheels of all diameters. R71980. Godfrey systematic pitchometer chart key. R71979. GODFREY SYSTEMATIC PITCHOMETER CHART for checking propeller wheels of all diameters, by Bert O. Godfrey. © 10Dec23, A771651. R71980, 18Dec50, Bert O. Godfrey (A) GODFREY SYSTEMATIC PITCHOMETER CHART KEY. by Bert O. Godfrey. © 10Dec23, A771650. R71979, 18Dec50, Bert O. Godfrey (A) GODS OF MODERN GRUB STREET; impressions of contemporary authors, by A. St John Adcock; with portraits after photographs by E. O. Hoppé. © 21Sep23, A759078. R69625, 6Nov50, Mrs. St. John Adcock (W) GOD'S WILL FOR THE WORLD, by Henry B. Wilson. © 3Feb23, A696346. R71379, 8Dec50, Theresa L. Wilson (W) <pb id='237.png' /> GOES Lithographing Company. SEE Lithographed bank statement folder R67939. Lithographed blank certificate R67933. Lithographed blank stock certificate R69965. Lithographed bond. R69962. Lithographed first mortgage note. R69960. Lithographed stock certificate. R69959. Lithographed stock certificate with stub, "lady" vignette. R67932. Manuscript cover. R69961. GOETSCHIUS, Percy. SEE Exercises in melody-writing. R71844. GOGOL, Nikolai Vasilevich. SEE Dead souls. R71938. The overcoat and other stories. R71950. GOLD KING TURNS HIS BACK, by John Frederick [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Apr. 28, 1923 issue. © 25Apr23, B575472. R69453, 1Nov50. GOLDBERG, Isaac. SEE Weeds. R71952. THE GOLDEN BIRD, by James Oppenheim. © 5Feb23, A705099. R70265, 21Nov50, Linda Gray Oppenheim (W) GOLDENBURG, Grace Delaney. SEE My maid on the bamboo screen. R65082. GOLDENBURG, William Smith. SEE My maid on the bamboo screen. R65082. GOLDSCHMIDT, Carol. SEE The constitutional factors in dementia precox. R71970. GOLDWYN, Samuel. SEE Behind the screen. R69255. GOLLOMB, Joseph. SEE The girl in the fog. R67279. GONZALEZ DEL TORO, Ricardo. SEE Mi Marido se aburre. R65636. Un señor de Frac. R65637. GOOD, John Walter. SEE The Jesus of our fathers. R69403. GOOD HOUSEKEEPING. © Hearst Magazines, inc. (PCW) v. 75, nos. 2-6, Aug.-Dec. 1922. © 20Jul22, B531472; 20Aug22, B533935; 20Sep22, B547935; 20Oct22, B567090; 20Nov22, B567023. R63961-63963, R63965, R63964, 30Jun50. v. 76, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 20Dec22, B567091. R71795, 18Dec50. GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT BIRTHDAYS, by Frances Jenkins Olcott. © 7Nov22, A690125. R67417, 20Sep50, Frances Jenkins Olcott (A) GOODELL, Charles Le Roy. SEE Cyclopedia of sermon outlines. R71669. GOODMAN, Jules Eckert. SEE Simon called Peter. R71139. GOODRICH, Arthur Frederick. SEE So this is London. R67122. GORDON, Charles William. SEE The Gaspards of Pine Croft; a romance of Windermere. R69606. GORDON, Leon. SEE White cargo. R70064. <pb id='238.png' n='1950_h2/A/0080' /> GORDON, Margery. SEE Verse of our day. R72282. GORKII, Maksim. SEE The lower depths; a drama in four acts. R70755. GOTH, Alexander. SEE Anna Karenina. R67406. GOUDEKET, Mme. SEE Colette, Sidonie Gabrielle. GOULDING, Edmund. SEE Fury. R67842. LE GOUT du malheur. SEE Verotchka l'étrangere; ou, le goût du malheur. R64809. GOWEN, Jeanne Bouchet. SEE Sea-tracks of the Speejacks, round the world. R65416. GOYNE, Richard. SEE Kiss of Pharaoh; the love story of Tutankhamen. R69624. GRAHAM, Abbie. SEE Ceremonials of common days. R67802. GRAHAM, John Bert. SEE A manual of service for the primary department. R67873. THE GRAIL, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 2Aug23, L19319. R68428, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) LE GRAND ÉCART. par Jean Cocteau. © 1May23, AF22992. R64188, 10Jul50, Jean Cocteau (A) GRANDJEAN, Marcel. SEE J'te veux. R64192. GRANT, William R. SEE List[s] of parts. R72240. GRAY, Joslyn. SEE The newcomer in Penny Lane. R63977. GRAY GHOST RETURNS, by Arthur Somers Roche; illustrated by W. B. King. (In Sunday telegram, Elmira, N.Y.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) Apr. 15, 1923 issue. © 15Apr23, A669488. R65885, 18Aug50. THE GREAT GAME OF POLITICS, by Frank R. Kent. © 19Oct23, A760860. R68785, 23Oct50, Frank R. Kent (A) THE GREAT north road. R65674. SEE The master of Ballantrae. GREEN, Anna Katharine. SEE Rohlfs, Anna Katharine (Green) GREEN SHADOWS, By Amy Lowell. (In Independent) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B575411. R67911, 3Oct50. GREEN TIMBER THOROUGHBREDS, by Theodore Goodridge Roberts. (In Short stories) © Theodore Goodridge Roberts (A) Nov. 10, 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, B590329. R70394, 20Nov50. GREENFIELD, Eric Viele. SEE Technical and scientific German. R67297. GREENWOOD, Samuel. SEE Footsteps of Israel from Eden to the City of God. R68913. GREGORY, Isabella Augusta (Persse), Lady. SEE Three wonder plays. R67118. GREGORY, Lady. SEE Gregory, Isabella Augusta (Persse), Lady. <pb id='239.png' /> GRENFELL, Wilfred Thomason. SEE Northern neighbors; stories of the Labrador people. R69679. GREY, Zane. SEE Tappan's burro and other stories. R71667. GREY WETHERS, a romantic novel, by V. Sackville-West. © 29Aug23, A711720. R66656, 31Aug50, V. Sackville-west (A) GRIBBLE, Harry Wagstaff. SEE March hares (the temperamentalists) R64653. GRIDLEY, FOR METAL WORKING AND MACHINE TOOLS. © 12Jul23, Print 6881. R70726, 30Nov50, The National Acme Co. (P) GRIEVANCE, By Amy Lowell. (In Harper's magazine) © Ada D. Russell (E) Nov. 1922 issue. © 25Oct22, B550368. R67900, 3Oct50. GRIFFITH, Barbara. SEE One exciting night. R66779. The white rose. R66786. GRIFFITH, D. W. SEE One exciting night. R66778. The white rose. R66783. GRIFFITH, Lynn. SEE One exciting night. R66779. The white rose. R66786. GRIFFITH, Myrtil Seaman. SEE One exciting night. R66780. The white rose. R66787. GRIFFITH, Ruth. SEE One exciting night. R66782. The white rose. R66784. GRIFFITH, Willard. SEE One exciting night. R66779. The white rose. R66786. GRIMBALL, Meta M. SEE The forgotten errand. R64067. The intruder. R64071. GRIMSHAW, Beatrice Ethel. SEE The sands of Oro. R67974. GROPPER, Milton Herbert. SEE The second year. R67727. GROSVENOR, Thelma Cudlipp. SEE The rainbow cat. R70036. GROVER CLEVELAND; the man and the statesman, by Robert McElroy. 2 v. © 9Nov23, A760828. R70408, 21Nov50, Robert McElroy (A) GROWING VEGETABLES, by Ralph L. Watts. (Harper's handbooks) © 20Aug23, A711599. R66666, 31Aug50, Bertha Myers Watts (W) THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH, and other poems, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 11Feb20, A561835. R65898, 21Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) GRUENING, Ernest Henry. SEE These United States. R67278. GRÜNWALD, Alfred. SEE Die Tangokönigin. R72254. GUERNEY, Bernard Guilbert. SEE The dreams of Chang and other stories. R71946. GUIDE TO SHOPS AND SERVICES, 1922-1923; edited by Marian Prince Libbey. © 4Dec22, A692332. R65944, 8Aug50, Women's City Club of Boston (PWH) <pb id='240.png' /> GUITERMAN, Arthur. SEE The light guitar. R67952. GUITRY, Sacha. SEE L'amour masque. R69897. THE GUNFIGHTER, a photoplay In five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 2Aug23, L19320. R68429, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) GUTMANN, Bessie P. SEE All mine. R64065. The bedtime story. R64070 Bubbles. R64069. A chip of the old block. R64078 The divine fire. R64066. The first dancing lesson. R64072. Reflected happiness. R64064 GUTMANN and Gutmann, inc. SEE All mine. R64065. The announcement. R64076. The bedtime story. R64070. Bubbles. R64069. A chip of the old block. R64078. The divine fire. R64066. The eternal flame. R64075. The first dancing lesson. R64072. The forgotten errand. R64067. A friend In need. R64068. His hour. R64062. His message. R64074. The Intruder. R64071. Puss in arms. R64063. Reflected happiness. R64064. The spirit of the flowers. R64073. Temptation. R64077. GYP, pseud. SEE Martel de Janville. Sibylle Gabrielle Marie Antoinette (de Riquetti de Mirabeau) comtesse de. THE HACK DRIVER, by Sinclair Lewis. (In the Nation) © Sinclair Lewis (A) Aug. 29, 1923 issue. © 23Aug23, B583899. R66530, 29Aug50. HAINES, Donal Hamilton. SEE The Sky-Line Inn. R68920. HALE, Edward Everett. SEE The man without a country. R71801. HALE, Richard. SEE The log of a Forty-Niner. R72265. HALE, William Benjamin. SEE Corpus Juris. R64311. HALE, William G. SEE The law of the press. R64358. HALEVY, Daniel. SEE Vauban. R65746. HALL, Holworthy, pseud. SEE Porter, Harold Everett. HALL, Kleber. SEE The autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. R69685. HALL, Newton Marshall. SEE The book of life. R70110. HAMBIDGE, Jay. SEE Dynamic symmetry In composition used by the artists. R68501. HAMMERSTEIN, Oscar. SEE The second year. R69433. HAMP, Pierre. SEE La peine des hommes, Un nouvel honneur R66913 <pb id='241.png' n='1950_h2/A/0081' /> HAMSUN, Knut. SEE Victoria. R71274. HANDBOOK OF COMMON LAW PLEADING, by Benjamin J. Shipman; edited by Henry Winthrop Ballantine. 3d ed. (The handbook series) © 2Jun23, A752245. R64355, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) HANDBOOK OF EQUITY JURISPRUDENCE, by James W. Eaton; edited by Archibald H. Throckmorton. 2d ed. (The Hornbook series) © on rev. ed.; 8May23, A752247. R64356, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) HANDWRITING AND CHARACTER, by DeWitt B. Lucas. © 17Sep23, A777739. R68693, 25Oct50, DeWitt B. Lucas (A) HANDWRITING AS THE EXPRESSION OF CHARACTER, by Henry E. Conlin. © 28Jul22, A680427. R64662, 24Jul50, Henry E. Conlin (A) HANEY, Julia Geary. SEE The idol. R65377. HANFORD, James Holly. SEE Selections from the prose and poetry of John Milton. R71797. HANKINS, Arthur Preston. SEE Cole of Spyglass Mountain. R65761. LES HANNETONS. R68410. SEE Les avaries; Les Hannetons. HANSEWICK, Y. d' SEE Quand la cloche sonnera. R69895. THE HAPPY HOUR (L'Heure du berger) A comedy in three acts by George Middleton, from the French of Edouard Bourdet. © 24May23, D64601. R69550, 9Nov50, George Middleton (A) THE HAPPY ISLES, by Basil King; with illus. by John Alonzo Williams. © 9Nov23, A760825. R70407, 21Nov50, Penelope Orcutt (NK) HARMONIUM, by Wallace Stevens. © 7Sep23, A760104. R71052, 4Dec50, Wallace Stevens (A) HARPER, George A. SEE High school algebra complete. R70108. A second course in algebra. R70107. HARPER and Brothers. SEE Harper's magazine. Howard Pyle's book on the American spirit; the romance of American history. R68966. HARPER'S BAZAAR. © Hearst Magazines, inc. (PCW) v. 57, no. 11, Nov. 1922. © 28Oct22, B551992. R64983, 28Jul50. v. 57, no. 12, Dec. 1922. © 28Nov22, B552526. R66674, 31Aug50. v. 58, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 28Dec22, B554367. R67855, 3Oct50. v. 58, no. 2, Feb. 1923. © 25Jan23, B568751. R69315, 31Oct50. v. 58, no. 3, Mar. 1923. © 25Feb23, B570773. R70808, 29Nov50. v. 58, no. 3, Mar. 1923. © 25Feb23, B570773. R70808, 29Nov50. HARPER'S bazar. SEE Harper's bazaar. HARPER'S FRENCH ANTHOLOGY, by Edward H. Sirich and Francis B. Barton. © 7Sep23, A711814. R68951, 30Oct50, Edward H. Sirich (A) & Francis B. Barton (A) HARPER'S MAGAZINE. © Harper & Brothers (PCW) v. 145, no 870, Nov. 1922. <pb id='242.png' /> © 25Oct22, B550368. R68412, 16Oct50. v. 146, nos. 871-877, Dec. 1922-June 1923. © 24Nov22, B552434; 22Dec22, B554368; 25Jan23, B568752; 23Feb23, B570853; 25Mar23, B573228; 25Apr23, B575408; 25May23, B577588. R68413-68419, 16Oct50. v. 147, nos. 878-879, July-Aug. 1923. © 23Jun23, B579618; 25Jul23, B581857. R68420-68421, 16Oct50. v. 147, nos. 880-881, Sept.-Oct. 1923. © 24Aug23, B583823; 25Sep23, B586331. R68974-68975, 16Oct50. HARRADEN, Beatrice. SEE Patuffa. R71287. HART, Walter W. SEE Modern first year algebra. R67301. Modern high school algebra. R67303. HARTT, Rollin Lynde. SEE The man himself. R67705. THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP, by Christopher Morley; foreword by Simeon Strunsky. © on forward; 14Sep23, A759395. R67210, 18Sep50, Frances Lindley (C) HAUPTMANN, Gerhart Johann Robert. SEE The heretic of Soana. R69490. LA-HAUT, opérette bouffe en 3 actes et 4 tableaux. Livret de Yves Mirande et Gustave Quinson, lyrics de Albert Willemetz, musique de Maurice Yvain. Partition piano et chant. © 15May23, D26457. R69899, 1Nov50, Maurice Yvain (A) HAVEMEYER, Loomis. SEE Anthropology. R66321. HAVING FUN WITH YOUR MONEY, by Gene Stratton Porter. (In McCall's magazine) © Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) Nov. 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, A715704. R68184, 12Oct50. HAWKINS, Seckatary, pseud. SEE Schulkers, Robert Francs. HAY, Ian, pseud. SEE Beith, John Hay. HAYES, Carlton Joseph Huntley. SEE Modern history. R70298. THE HAYMOW NEWS, by F. Walcott Hutt. Prose ed. © 16Feb23, A762514. R68724, 25Oct50, Tullar-Meredith Co. (PWH) HAYSEED, a musical comedy in two acts by A. E. Thomas. [Text only] © 20Nov22, D63094. R70245, 10Nov50, Mrs. A. E. Thomas (W) HAYWOOD, Frederick Howard. SEE Universal song. R71843. HE RAISED A GULL-LIKE CRY IN THE AIR. "There she blows--there she blows!" By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus. in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169280. R67333, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) HE WHO GETS LAUGHS, an address by Aaron Hoffman. © 30Aug22, C2249. R65268, 13Jul50, Minnia Z. Hoffman (W) HEAD OF CHRIST IN BAS RELIEF, by W. Clark Noble. © 28Dec22, J259120. R72044, 27Dec50, Emilie Bleecher Noble (W) HEAR, O ISRAEL, by Mary Beecher Longyear. © 7Aug22, A681318. R65274, 19Jul50, Abby Beecher Roberts (C), Helen Longyear Paul (C), Robert Dudley Longyear (C) & John M. Longyear, jr. (C) <pb id='243.png' /> HEARN, Lafcadio. SEE Two years in the French West Indies. R68965. The writings of Lafcadio Hearn. v. 1-16. R69660 ... HEARST Magazines, inc. SEE Cosmopolitan. Good housekeeping. Harper's bazaar. Hearst's international. Motor. Motor boating. HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL. © Hearst Magazines, inc. (PCW) v. 42, no. 4, Oct. 1922. © 20Sep22, B547105. R65145, 26Jul50. v. 42, no. 5, Nov. 1922. © 20Oct22, B549233. R66251, 24Aug50. v. 42, no. 6, Dec. 1922. © 20Nov22, B551485. R68010, 6Oct50. v. 43, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 20Dec22, B554306. R70149, 17Nov50. v. 43, no. 2, Feb. 1923. © 20Jan23, B567857. R71673, 18Dec50. THE HEART FIXER, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 12Oct23, D65725. R68476, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) HEART OF A GOOF, by P. G. Wodehouse. Illustrated by Bert N. Salg. (In Brooklyn standard union) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Nov. 18, 1923 issue. © 18Nov23, A718353. R70382, 21Nov50. (In Redbook magazine) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Sept. 1923 issue. © 23Aug23, B583934. R66531, 29Aug50. THE HEART RAIDER, a photoplay in 6 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 13Jun23, L19099. R64133, 3Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) HEARTS AFLAME, a photoplay in nine reels by L. B. Mayer Productions, inc. © 9Jan23, L18571. R71803, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) HEARTS TO SELL, a play in one act by Gertrude E. Jennings. © 28Dec22, D63241. R67123, 14Sep50, Gertrude E. Jennings (A) HEATHERCAT. R71087. SEE The ebb-tide. HECHT, Ben. SEE The Florentine dagger. R67285. HEIDI, by Johanna Spyri; with illus. by Gustaf Tenggren. (Riverside bookshelf) © on illus.; 11Oct23, A760980. R69691, 9Nov50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) DIE HEILIGE ENTE, ein Spiel mit Göttern und Mensche von K. M. Levetzow und Leo Feld, Musik von Hans Gal. Op. 15. Partitur. © 12Nov23, DP161. R69992, 14Nov50, Hans Gal (A) THE HEIR TO A HAREM, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 28Mar23, D64069. R68465, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) HELLMAN, Sam. SEE The christening of twin. R65507. The diary of a problem. R65510. Know Rogue? R65508. Tiny skims the cream. R65506. Yo-ho for Yolo. R65509. HELL'S HOLE, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 25Jul23, L19347. R65959, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) <pb id='244.png' n='1950_h2/A/0082' /> HELM, Jeannette. SEE Without clues. R67284. HEMON, Louis. SEE La Belle que voila. R67731. HENRY, George M. SEE Monaghan's cumulative annual digest of Pennsylvania decisions, 1922. R64313. HENRY, Norman E. SEE Elementary Latin. R70720. HENRY FORD: THE MAN AND HIS MOTIVES; by William L. Stidger. © 2Nov23, A760769. R71668, 14Dec50, Ira B. Stidger (E) "HENRY IV." SEE Three plays. R64631. HER CROWDED HOUR, by Arthur C. Train. (In Saturday evening post) © Helen C. Train (W) May 19, 1923 issue. © 17May23, B577079. R69498, 8Nov50. HEREFORD Journal Company. SEE Walker Publications, inc. THE HERETIC OF SOANA, by Gerhart Hauptmann; translated from the German by Bayard Quincy Morgan. © 31Oct23, A777055. R69490, 3Nov50, The Viking Press, inc. (PWH) HERGESHEIMER, Joseph. SEE The Presbyterian child. R71054. HERING, D. W. SEE Physics. R66314. THE HERO, a play in three acts by Gilbert Emery [pseud. of Emery Pottle] © 7Sep22, D61869. R66703, 7Sep50, Michael Birmingham (E) HEROES OF THE STREET, a photoplay in six reels by Warner Bros. © 24Dec22, L18693. R68121, 10Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) HERTZLER, Joyce Oramel. SEE The history of Utopian thought. R71872. HERZL, Theodor. SEE Tagebucher. R64002 ... HERZOG, Emile Salomon Wilhelm. SEE Maurois, Andre. HESKETH-PRICHARD, Hesketh Vernon. SEE Prichard, Hesketh Vernon Hesketh-. HESS, Herbert William. SEE Creative salesmanship. R68980. HEWES, Agnes (Danforth) SEE A boy of the lost crusade. R69689. HEY, Harry A. SEE The care and use of Singer sewing motors. R72244. HEYWARD, DuBose. SEE Carolina chansons. R70165. HICKVILLE FOLLIES, a play in three acts by Aaron Hoffman. © 9Nov22, D62760. R65269, 13Jul50, Minnie Z. Hoffman (W) THE HIDDEN DIFFERENCE. (Coffee) © 10Apr23, Print 6776. R70348, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE HIDDEN DIFFERENCE IS FLAVOR. (Coffee) © 6Apr23, Print 6777. R70349, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) HIDDEN LIVES, by M. Leonora Eyles. © 25Aug23, A711887. R71170, 7Dec50, M. Leonora Eyles (A) <pb id='245.png' /> THE HIDDEN ROAD, by Elsie Singmaster. © 11May23, A704645. R69673, 9Nov50, Elsie Singmaster Lewars (A) THE HIGH PLACE, a comedy of disenchantment, by James Branch Cabell; illus. and decoration by Frank C. Pape. Illustrated ed. © 10Nov23, A766424. R70041, 17Nov50, James Branch Cabell (A) THE HIGH QUALITY MAKES FRIENDS. (Coffee) © 7Sep23, Print 7095. R70361, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) HIGH SCHOOL ALGEBRA COMPLETE, by Marquis J. Newell and George A. Harper. © 6Apr23, A704192. R70108, 13Nov50, Row, Peterson & Co. (PWH) HIGHLEY, Mont Frederick. SEE Kleinschmidt and Highley's Oklahoma. form book and manual of pleading and practice annotated. R68279. HILL, Grace (Livingston) SEE The big blue soldier. R71284. Tomorrow about this time. R71285. HILL, John M. SEE Antologia de cuentos espanoles. R67302. HILL, Mabel. SEE Civics for new Americans. R64664 ... HILLS Brothers Coffee, inc. SEE American palates infallible. R69085. Coffee flavor that satisfies. R70353. Correct taste, strength and flavor. R70359. The delicious aroma of an opened can is a promise ... R70362. Fine flavor comes from fine quality. R70345. First choice. R70343. First in flavor. R70341. First in freshness. R70340. First in perfection. R70337. First in quality. R70339. First in vacuum. R70342. First on the list. R70344. First try. R70338. The flavor difference. R70360. Flavor is the hidden difference. R70347. The fountain of youth. R68264. The hidden difference. R70348. The hidden difference is flavor. R70349. The high quality makes friends. R70361. It's real coffee. R70351. It's sunny flavor wins your favor. R70358. The original vacuum pack. R70346. The original vacuum pack keeps its fine flavor fresh for you. R70350. Perfect coffee. R68263. Quality made. R70363. The recognised standard. R70352. Remember the man you'll remember the can. R70354. Where the finest coffee flavor comes from. R70336 ... Yes, people change to and then remain satisfied. R70357. You can get good coffee. R70356. HILLS, Elijah Clarence. SEE Cuentos y leyendas. R67294. <pb id='246.png' /> HINKLE, Beatrice (Moses) SEE Re-creating the individual. R71375. HIRCHMANN, Henri. SEE Epouse-lai R71889. HIRED GUNS, by Max Brand [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Mar. 10, 1923 issue. © 7Mar23, B572524. R67879, 2Oct50. Mar. 17, 1923 issue. © 14Mar23, B572525. R67880, 2Oct50. Mar. 24, 1923 issue. © 21Mar23, B572526. R67881, 2Oct50. Mar. 31, 1923 issue. © 28Mar23, B573455. R67882, 2Oct50. Apr. 7, 1923 issue. © 4Apr23, B573456. R67883, 2Oct50. Apr. 14, 1923 issue. © 11Apr23, B574328. R67884, 2Oct50. Apr. 21, 1923 issue. © 18Apr23, B574329. R67885, 2Oct50. HIS GLORY, by Grant Stroh. © 6Dec22, A692462. R70078, 15Nov50, Grant Stroh (A) HIS HOUR, by Eda S. Doench. © 13Feb23, K172697. R64062, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) HIS MAJESTY BUNKER BEAN, a comedy in four acts and five scenes by Lee Wilson Dodd. Adapted from the novel by Harry Leon Wilson. (French's standard library edition) © 28Nov22, D62976. R70501, 27Nov50, Doris Dodd (W) HIS MESSAGE, by Eda S. Doench. © 22Jun23, K176190. R64074, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) HIS SMOTHERED LOVE, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 22Oct23, L19541. R69382, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) HISTORY OF SCIENCE; how to use the Popular science library; general index. By Arthur Selwyn-Brown and Garrett P. Serviss. (The Popular science library, v. 16) © 15Dec22, A692490. R66322, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) HISTORY OF THE GREAT WAR, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) v. 4. The British campaign in France and Flanders, 1917. © 20Jun19, A525957. R66434, 30Aug50. A HISTORY OF THE GREAT WAR, by John Buchan. v. 4. © 7Nov22, A690124. R67411, 20Sep50, Susan Caroline, Lady Tweedsmuir (W) HISTORY OF THE OVERLAND MAIL, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Sept. 9, 1923 issue. © 9Sep23, A714516. R68087, 6Oct50. HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, by Henry William Elson. New and rev. ed. © 13Feb23, A698288. R70297, 24Nov50, Henry W. Elson (A) THE HISTORY OF UTOPIAN THOUGHT, by Joyce Oramel Hertzler. © 6Feb23, A696708. R71872, 21Dec50, Joyce Oramel Hertzler (A) HISTORY OF WILLIAMSBURG, by William Willis Boddie. © 22Nov23, A766128. R71589, 5Dec50, Helen Scott Boddie (W) HITCHCOCK, Frank Lauren. SEE Differential equations in applied chemistry. R71861. <pb id='247.png' n='1950_h2/A/0083' /> HOELSCHER, R. P. SEE Engineering drawing. R71860. HOFFMAN, Aaron. SEE Give and take. R65272. He who gets laughs. R65268. Hickville follies. R65269. I'm telling you. R65267. Light wines and beer. R65270, R65271 HOFFMAN, Malvina. SEE Bill, working. R64079. Paderewski, the artist. R64080. Paderewski, the statesman. R64081. HOGAN, Bartia Copeland. SEE A manual of service for the primary department. R67873. HOLCOMBE, Arthur N. SEE The foundations of the modern commonwealth. R66665. HOLIDAY, by Waldo Frank. © 25Aug23, A711892. R67281, 18Sep50, Waldo Frank (A) HOLLYWOOD, a photoplay in 8 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 10Jul23, L19202. R64681, 24Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) HOLLYWOOD, by Frank Condon. (In Photoplay magazine) © Esther Condon (W) Jan. 1923 issue. © 15Dec22, B553980. R71527, 14Dec50. HOLMES, Burton. SEE The writings of Lafcadio Hearn. v. 3-16. R69660 ... HOLT, Lucius Hudson. SEE English analysis and exposition. R66248. THE HOLY FAMILY ARE ON THEIR WEARISOME JOURNEY INTO EGYPT, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169958. R66982, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) THE HOLY TREE, by Gerald O'Donovan. © 20Feb23, A698441. R67264, 18Sep50, Gerald O'Donovan (A) HOME AND BEAUTY, a farce in three acts by W. Somerset Maugham. © 11Dec23, D22389. R71792, 13Dec50, W. Somerset Maugham (A) HOME FIRES, a study in discords. A comedy in three acts by Owen Davis. © 13Jun23, D64803. R71155, 6Dec50, Owen Davis (A) HOME GIRL, by Edna Ferber. (In Pictorial review) © Edna Ferber (A) Nov. 1922 issue. © 13Oct22, B549936. R64215, 10Jul50. HOMEMADE MOVIES, a photoplay in 2 reels by Mack Sennett. © 29Aug22, L18177. R65117, 26Jul50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) HOMER-DIXON, Homera. SEE The vine and the branches. R70079. HOMEWARD BOUND, a photoplay in seven reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 8Aug23, L19279. R69369, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) HOOL, George A. SEE Foundations, abutments and footings. R67314. Structural members and connections. R67310. <pb id='248.png' /> HOODMAN BLIND, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 16Nov23, L19656. R71025, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) HOPALONG CASSIDY RETURNS, by Clarence E. Mulford. (In Argosy-Allstory weekly) © Clarence E. Mulford (A) Dec. 15, 1923 issue. © 13Dec23, B604212. R71661, 15Dec50. Dec. 22, 1923 issue. © 20Dec23, B605018. R72201, 22Dec50. THE HOPELESS CASE, by Nicholas Silver [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Detective story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Nov. 4, 1922 issue. © 31Oct22, B550768. R64893, 31Jul50. HOPWOOD, Avery. SEE Alarm clock. R65202. Little Miss Bluebeard. R65710. HORSES AND MEN, by Sherwood Anderson. © 26Oct23, A777049. R69435, 3Nov50, Eleanor Copenhaver Anderson (W) THE HORSES OF THE WORLD, by William Harding Carter; paintings by Edward Herbert Miner. © 8Dec23, A766591. R71816, 18Dec50, National Geographic Society (PWH) HORTICULTURE, by Kary Cadmus Davis. 2d ed. (Farm life text series) © 1Sep22, A692743. R64642, 21Jul50, Fanny Davis (W) HORTICULTURE FOR SCHOOLS, by A. V. Stubenrauch, Milo N. Wood and Charles J. Booth. (The rural text book series) © 12Dec22, A692367. R64300, 17Jul50, Milo N. Wood (A) HOSMER, George L. SEE The principles and practice of surveying; elementary surveying. R72259. HOT AND COLD BLOOD, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. (In Hearst's international) © Frances Scott Fitzgerald Lanahan (C) Aug. 1923 issue. © 20Jul23, B581042. R70983, 4Dec50. HOT CORN IKE, by James L. Ford. © 20Jan23, A696348. R69274, 3Nov50, Mrs. Robert Hare Delafield (NK) & Mrs. Henry H. Curran (NK) THE HOTTENTOT, a photoplay in seven reels by Thomas H. Ince. © 5Dec22, L18460. R68526, 16Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) HOUGHTON Mifflin Company. SEE The autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. R69685. Heidi. R69691. The man without a country. R71801. Selections from the prose and poetry of John Milton. R71797. The story of a bad boy. R69687. A wonder book and Tanglewood tales. R69686. HOUSE AND GARDEN. © The Conde Nast Publications inc. (PCW) v. 43, nos. 1-6, Jan.-June 1923. © 30Dec22, B567758; 27Jan23, B569304; 27Feb23, B571785; 26Mar23, B573552; 25Apr23, B575073; 25May23, B578147. R69505-69510, 8Nov50. v. 44, nos. 1-3, July-Sept. 1923. © 25Jun23, B579403; 25Jul23, B603501; 25Aug23, B603502. R69511-69513, 8Nov50. <pb id='249.png' /> v. 44, no, 4, Oct. 1923. © 25Sep23, B585864. R70456, 22Nov50. v. 44, no, 5, Nov. 1923. © 30Oct23, B588298. R69514, 8Nov50. THE HOUSE OF DAVID, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 12Oct23, D65724. R68475, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) THE HOUSE OF YOST, by Georg Schock. © 10Feb23, A696441. R67261, 18Sep50, Georg Schock (A) HOW I PHOTOGRAPH INSECTS, by Paul Griswold Howes. (In nature magazine) © Paul Griswold Howes (A) May 1923 issue. © 24Apr23, B576010. R69265, 30Oct50. HOW THE MIND FALLS INTO ERROR; a brief treatment of fallacies for the general reader, by Henry Bradford Smith. © 9Nov23, A760824. R70406, 21Nov50, Stevenson Smith (NK) HOW TO LIVE; rules for healthful living based on modern science, by Irving Fisher and Eugene Lyman Fisk. 16th ed., rev. © 19Jul22, A686501. R64053, 14Jul50, Irving Norton Fisher (C) HOW TO MAKE COFFEE. (Coffee) © 3Nov22, Print 6568. R68912, 27Oct50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) HOW TO PLAY THE HARMONICA AT SIGHT, by Borrah Minevitch. © 3Dec23, A766498. R71381, 11Dec50, Borrah Minevitch (A) HOW TO PRODUCE PLAYS AND PAGEANTS, by Mary M. Russell. © 5Oct23, A760723. R68972, 30Oct50, Mary M. Russell (A) HOW TO USE THE DICTIONARY, by Martin C. Flaherty. © 30Dec22, A692715. R71969, 20Dec50, Mina B. Flaherty (W) HOWARD PYLE'S BOOK OF THE AMERICAN SPIRIT; the romance of American history; pictured by Howard Pyle, compiled by Merle Johnson, with ... text ... edited by Francis J. Dowd © 28Sep23, A760122. R68966, 30Oct50, Harper & Bros. (PCW) HOWELLS, Mildred. SEE Don Quixote. R69928. HOWELLS, William Dean. SEE Don Quixote. R69929. Mark Twain's speeches. R66389. HOWES, Paul Griswold. SEE How I photograph Insects. R69265. Life of the blue and yellow dauber. R69266. HOW'S YOUR HEALTH? A play In three acts by Booth Tarkington and Harry Leon Wilson. © 29Jun23, D64919. R69976, 13Sep50, Harry Leon Wilson, Jr. (C), Charis Wilson Weston (C), Susanah K. Tarkington (W) HOYT'S NEW CYCLOPEDIA OF PRACTICAL QUOTATIONS, by Kate Louise Roberts, reviser. Rev. and enl. © 16Dec22, A692705. R67506, 26Sep50, Marjorie Adams Osborne (NK) HOZAAH Ivrith, ltd. SEE Tagebücher. R64002 ... HUBAY, Jeno. SEE Anna Karenina. R67406. HUBBARD, George. SEE In the dark. R67119. A narrow squeak. R67121 <pb id='250.png' n='1950_h2/A/0084' /> HUDSON, Clarence W. SEE Elements of graphic statics. R67312. HUDSON, William Henry. SEE Birds and man. R71273. Ralph Herne. R71278. HUGHES, Glenn. SEE Pierrot's mother; a fantastic play in one act. R69079. HUGHES, Rupert. SEE True as steel. R71293. Within these walla. R66245. LES HUIS COUPS DE L'HORLOGE, par Maurice Leblanc. (Aventures extraordinaires d'Arséne Lupin) © 10Jul23, AF23210. R65754, 1Aug50, Claude Leblanc (C) HULL, Alexander. SEE Justice in the painted hills. R71056. HULL, Edith Maude. SEE The desert healer. R65123. HULL, Helen R. SEE Labyrinth. R69603. LE HULLA, conte lyrique oriental en 4 actes. Poème de André Rivoire, musique de Marcel Samuel-Rousseau. Partition chant et piano. © 24Apr23, D26440. R70838, 29Nov50, Marcel Samuel-Rousseau (A) THE HUMAN BODY IS A RADIO STATION, by Chester A. Young. © 10Nov22, A691336. R66481, 5Sep50, Mrs. R. O. Ellis (NK) HUMAN NATURE IN THE BIBLE, by William Lyon Phelps. © 20Oct22, A686429. R68243, 13Oct50, Alberta Phelps Osgood (C) & Dryden Lineley Phelps (C) THE HUMANIZING OF KNOWLEDGE, by James Harvey Robinson. (The workers' bookshelf) © 19Oct23, A760722. R68782, 23Oct50, Bankers Trust Co. (E) HUMMEL, George F. SEE After all. R67274. HUMPHREY, Harry E. SEE The mysterious inn. R68711. HUNEKER, James Gibbons. SEE Letters of James Gibbons Huneker. R65667. HUNEKER, Josephine. SEE Letters of James Gibbons Huneker. R65667. HUNGRY HEARTS, a photoplay in seven reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 1Nov22, L18529. R68902, 26Oct50, Loew's inc. (PWH) HUNTER, Daniel W. SEE The easy method of reading music. R64082. HUNTERS OF THE GREAT NORTH, by Vilhjalmur Stefansson. © 19Oct22, A683813. R68007, 6Oct50, Vilhjalmur Stefansson (A) HUNTINGTON, Ellsworth. SEE Earth and sun. R67254. HURE, Jean. SEE L'esthetique de l'orgue. R69894. HURST, Fannie. SEE Lummox. R69929. HUSHED UP, by Lloyd Osbourne. (In McClure's magazine) © Samuel Osbourne (C) Oct. 1915 Issue. © 18Sep15, B340297. R72004, 22Dec50. <pb id='251.png' /> HUTCHINS, Philip A. SEE Pepita. R70617. HUTCHISON, Collister. SEE Inheritance. R69484. Reims. R69485. Paris impression. R69486. HUTCHISON, Hazel Collister. SEE Hutchison, Collister. HUTT, Frank Walcott. SEE The haymow news. R68724. HUXLEY, Aldous Leonard. SEE Antic hay. R70409. On the margin. R65144. HUZARD, Antoinette (de Bergevin) SEE Dans la jardin du feminisme. R68398. Vous serez comme des dieux. R68403. HYGIENE AND HEALTH, by Charles P. Emerson and George Herbert Betts. Rev. ed. (Hygiene and health series, 1) © on new material; 26Jul22, A681149. R63915, 12Jun50, Mrs. Walter A. Compton (Child of C. P. Emerson) & Harlan Betts (Child of G. H. Betts) HYMER, John B. SEE Weeds. R69225. HYPNOTISTS AND HUMBUGS AT MURPHY'S CAMP IN '49, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Sept. 16, 1923 issue. © 16Sep23, A714748. R68088, 6Oct50. I CAN REMEMBER ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Edited by Rosaline Masson. © 2Feb23, A696257. R71282, 6Dec50, Charles Guthrie (E) I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED; a modern ballad for young children, by Ruth Kauffman; illustrated by Margaret Campbell Hoopes. © 16Oct23, A760408. R72287, 28Dec50, The Platt & Munk Co., inc. (PWH) I DON'T WANT TO WEAR COATS AND THINGS, by Ruth Kauffman, with illustrations by Margaret Campbell Hoopes. © 24Oct23, A759590. R72286, 28Dec50, The Platt & Munk Co., inc. (PWH) I GO AFISHING, by Angelo Patri. (In Redbook magazine) © Angelo Patri (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 23Oct23, B588340. R69267, 27Oct50. I TORE FROM HER, AND WITH A SUDDEN BODILY RUSH DASHED MYSELF FULL AGAINST THE MARK, by Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169282. R67335, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) IBBOTTSON, Gordon. SEE Once in a blue moon. R70292. ICEBOUND, a play in three acts by Owen Davis. © 2Jul23, D64953. R71156, 6Dec50, Owen Davis (A) THE IDOL, a play in four acts by Julia Geary Haney. © 7Aug23, D65210. R65377, 9Aug50, Miss Julia G. Haney (A) THE IDOL, by Berta Ruck [Oliver] Pub. abroad in the Sovereign magazine. © Berta Ruck Oliver (A) 1st installment, Dec. 1922 issue. © 1May23, (pub. abroad 14Nov22, AI-4823), A705261. R64971, 28Jul50. IF I WERE QUEEN, a photoplay in 6 reels by R-C Pictures Corp. © 15Oct22, L18383. R64518, 11Jul50, RKO Radio Pictures, inc. (PWH) <pb id='252.png' /> IF WINTER COMES, a photoplay in twelve reels by Fox Film Corp. © 20Jul23, L19448. R65960, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) IL ETAIT QUATRE PETITS ENFANTS, par René Bazin. © 28Feb23, AF22021. R68406, 13Oct50, Genevieve Catta (née Bazin) (C) ILLIMORE, by Arthur Somers Roche; illustrated by W. B. King. (In the Telegram, Elmira, N. Y.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) May 13, 1923 issue. © 13May23, A712623. R65889, 18Aug50. ILLUSTRATIVE CASES ON EQUITY JURISPRUDENCE, by Archibald H. Throckmorton. 2d ed. (Hornbook case series) © on rev. ed.; 2Jun23, A752246. R64357, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) I'M TELLING YOU, an address by Aaron Hoffman. © 30Aug22, C2248. R65267, 13Jul50, Minnie Z. Hoffman (W) THE IMPOSTERS, by W. Somerset Maugham. (In Cosmopolitan) © W. Somerset Maugham (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, B587589. R68187, 12Oct50. IMPROMPTU, by Elliot H. Paul. © 30Mar23, A705093. R71869, 20Dec50, Elliot Paul (A) IN BRIGHTEST AFRICA, by Carl E. Akeley. © 19Oct23, A760861. R68786, 23Oct50, Mary LeJohn Akeley (W) IN EXILE, by John Cournos. © 8Oct23, A759417. R71173, 7Dec50, John Cournos (A) IN HIS ARMS, a comedy in three acts by Lynn Starling. © 30Aug23, D65371. R70063, 16Nov50, William Lynn Starling (A) IN REGARDS TO GENIUSES, by Ring W. Lardner. (In Hearst's international) © Ellis A. Lardner (W) May 1923 issue. © 20Apr23, B574396. R64694, 25Jul50. IN THE DARK, a play in one act by Lilian Bennet-Thompson and George Hubbard. © 20Sep22, D61992. R67119, 14Sep50, George Hubbard (A) IN THE SOUTH SEAS [AND] A FOOTNOTE TO HISTORY, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 16) © on editorial work; 15Nov22, A692179. R68252, 13Oct50, Alan Osbourne (NK) INCOME IN THE UNITED STATES: ITS AMOUNT AND DISTRIBUTION, 1909-1919. By the staff of the National Bureau of Economic Research, inc.; edited by Wesley C. Mitchell. © National Bureau of Economic Research, inc. (PWH) v. 2, Detailed report. © 23Nov22, A690739. R70132, 17Nov50. THE INCOME TAX COLLECTOR, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 2Dec23, L19698. R71029, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) INDEPENDENCE; rectorial address at St. Andrews, Oct. 10, 1923, by Rudyard Kipling. Pub. abroad in the London times as "Man's desire for independence." © 12Nov23, (pub. abroad 11Oct23, AI-5447), A760862. R70384, 20Nov50, Elsie Bambridge (C) INDIAN APPLE US. (Gloves) © 26Sep22, Label 26124. R68694, 25Oct50, Indianapolis Glove Co., inc. (P) <pb id='253.png' n='1950_h2/A/0085' /> INDIANAPOLIS Glove Company, inc. SEE Indian Apple Us. R68694. INDUSTRIAL FURNACES, by W. Trinks. v. 1. © 29Mar23, A698896. R71097, 30Nov50, W. Trinks (A) INFANTRY JOURNAL. © Assn. of the U. S, Army (PCW) v. 21, nos. 5-6, Nov.-Dec. 1922. © 6Nov22, B551354; 7Dec22, B554832. R68671-68672, 23Oct50. v. 22, nos. 1-6, Jan.-June 1923. © 7Jan23, B569126; 2Feb23, B570204; 5Mar23, B572392; 29Mar23, B575322; 2May23, B578406; 2Jun23, B581608. R68673-68678, 23Oct50. v. 23, nos. 1-4, Jul-Oct. 1923. © 7Jul23, B581609; 1Aug23, B582710; 1Sep23, B585537; 20Oct23, B607854. R68679-68682, 23Oct50. L'INFERME AUX MAINS DE LUMIÈRE, par Edouard Estaunie. (Les Cahiers verts, 24) © 21Jul23, AF23199. R65753, 1Aug50, Mme. vve. Estaunie, née Jeanne Engel (W) INGERSOLL, Ernest. SEE Zoology. R66318. INHERITANCE, by Hazel Collister Hutchison. (In Poetry) © Hazel Collister Hutchison (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 27Oct23, B589014. R69484, 6Nov50. THE INHERITORS, by Ida Alexa Ross Wylie. (In Good housekeeping) © I. A. R. Wylie (A) Parts 2-3; Aug.-Sept. 1922 issues. © 20Jul22, B531472; 20Aug22, B533935. R64257-64258, 3Jul50. LES INNOCENTES; ou, LA SAGESSE DES FEMMES, par comtesse [Anna Elisabeth (de Brancovan)] de Noailles. © 1Jul23, AF23090. R65747, 1Aug50, Jules-Anne de Noailles (NK) INSTRUCTIONS FOR ATTACHING SINGER PICOT EDGE CUTTING ATTACHMENT 234734 TO SINGER MACHINES OF CLASS 72W, by Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 1854W [Oct. 1922]) © 6Oct22, A687387. R65063, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) INSTRUCTIONS FOR USING SINGER HEM-STITCHING ATTACHMENTS 28915 AND 28986 ON SINGER SEWING MACHINES 15, 66, 115, 127 AND 128 FOR FAMILY USE, by Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 8899, Nov. 1922) © 16Nov22, A689744. R65068, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) INSTRUCTIONS FOR USING SINGER SEWING MACHINES, by Archibald Tregaskis. © The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) Class 58-. (Form 7944 rev., Mar. 1923) © 6Apr23, A702914. R72248, 26Dec50. Class 110W. (Form 1808W rev., Mar 1923) © 25Apr23, A706519. R72252, 26Dec50. 22W31 for stitching and perforating leather shoe tips, etc. at one operation. (Form 1855W, Jan. 1923) © 13Jan23, A695648. R72236, 26Dec50. 31-15 oscillating shuttle. (Form 8268 rev., Feb. 1923) © 23Mar23, A702320. R72246, 26Dec50. 51W46 and 51W47 equipped with oblique underedge trimmer. (Form 1744W, Jan. 1923) © 13Jan23, A695649. R72237, 26Dec50. 95-10 high speed lock stitch. (Form 8239 rev., Feb. 1923) © 23Mar23, A702321. R72247, 26Dec50. <pb id='254.png' /> 99. (Form 8917, Mar. 1923) © 25Apr23, A706518. R72251, 26Dec50. 99W75, 99W76, 99W77 and 99W95 for making buttonholes in fabrics. (form 1753W, rev. Oct. 1922) © 18Oct22, A688221. R65066, 31Jul50. 107W4, 107W6 and 107W7. (Form 1809W, Oct. 1922) © 11Nov22, A691142. R65069, 31Jul50. 107W8, 107W9 and 107W10. (Form 1810W, Oct. 1922) © 1Nov22, A688675. R65067, 31Jul50. 114-21 for tacking bands and bows on soft felt hats. (Form 8825, Dec. 1922) © 21Dec22, A693617. R65073, 31Jul50. 114W120. (Form 1762W, rev. Dec. 1922) © 23Dec22, A693930. R65075, 31Jul50. INSTRUCTIONS POUR L'EMPLOI DE LA [sic] MACHINES A COUDRE SINGER nos. 127 et 128, par M. Duysters. (Form 8716 French, Dec. 1922) © 19Jan23, A697263. R72238, 26Dec50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) INSTRUZIONI PER ADOPERARE LA MACCHINA DA CUCIRE SINGER, no. 66, di Louis P. Longobardi. (Form 8693 Italian, rev. Nov. 1922) © 21Dec22, A693616. R65072, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) INSTRUZIONI PER ADOPERARE LA [sic] MACCHINAS DA CUCIRE SINGER nos. 127 e 128, di Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 8702 Italian rev., Feb. 1923) © 6Apr23, A702915. R72249, 26Dec50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) INSURANCE MAPS. © Sanborn Map Co. (PWH) Addington, Jefferson County, Oklahoma. Mar. 1923. © 29May23, F42360. R67053, 5Sep50. Angela, Steuben County, Indiana. Mar. 1923. © 8May23, F42298. R67028, 14Aug50. Arcola, Douglas County, Illinois. June 1923. © 2Aug23, F42525. R67114, 29Aug50. Argenta, Macon County, Illinois. Apr. 1923. © 6Jun23, F72384. R67060, 29Aug50. Arthur, Douglas and Moultrie Counties, Illinois. May 1923. © 27Jul23, F42532. R67602, 29Aug50. Ashland, Saunders County, Nebraska. Mar. 1923. © 29May23, F42359. R67052, 5Sep50. Atwater, Merced County, California. Mar. 1923. © 5Jun23, F42392. R67063, 5Sep50. Atwood, Douglas and Piatt Counties, Illinois. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42481. R67090, 29Aug50. Auburn, including Auburn Junction, Dekalb County, Indiana. Apr. 1923. © 18Jul23, F42493. R67100, 14Aug50. Augusta, Georgia, v. 1, 1923. © 10Jul23, F42458. R67087, 14Aug50. Augusta, Georgia. v. 2, 1923. © 23Aug23, F42585. R67626, 7Sep50. Austell, Cobb County, Georgia. Jan. 1923. © 8Mar23, F42182. R66057, 14Aug50. Baker, Oregon. 1923. © 23Apr23, F42260. R67022, 5Sep50. Bancroft, Cuming County, Nebraska. May 1923. © 26Jun23, F42434. R67075, 5Sep50. Bellington, Barbour County, West Virginia. Mar. 1923. © 8May23, F42300. R67030, 14Aug50. <pb id='255.png' /> Belmont, Belknap County, New Hampshire May 1923. © 12Jul23, F42464. R65855, 11Aug50. Berwyn, Carter County, Oklahoma. June 1923. © 17Jul23, F42487. R67096, 5Sep50. Bishopville, Lee County, South Carolina. July 1923. © 8Sep23, F42619. R67641, 13Sep50. Bloomingdale Parke County, Indiana. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42322. R67032, 14Aug50. Burlingame, Osage County, Kansas. Mar. 1923. © 6Jun23, F42379. R67059, 5Sep50. Cardington, Morrow County Ohio. Apr. 1923. © 6Jun23, F42386. R67062, 14Aug50. Carterville, Williamson County, Illinois. Feb. 1923. © 1May23, F42269. R67025, 29Aug50. Cave Spring, Floyd County, Georgia. May 1923. © 16Jul23, F42470. R67088, 14Aug50. Chicago, Illinois. v. 9. © 23Jul23, F42509. R67108, 29Aug50. Chicago, Illinois. V. 9. © 23Jul23, F42509. R67108, 29Aug50. Chicago Illinois. V. 12; key map. © 15Feb23, F42131. R67019, 29Aug50. Chilhowee, Johnson County, Missouri. Mar. 1923. © 16Jun23, F42416. R67066, 5Sep50. Clifton. Bosque County, Texas. June 1923. © 2Aug23, F42528. R67115, 14Aug50. Colfax, Jasper County, Iowa. May 1923. © 15Aug23, F42561. R67617, 5Sep50. Colfax, McLean County, Illinois. June 1923. © 27Jul23, F42530. R67117, 29Aug50. Creighton, Cass County, Missouri. May 1923. © 4Aug23, F42547. R67612, 5Sep50. Cutler, Tulare County, California. June 1923. © 28Aug23, F42598. R67632, 5Sep50. Davis, Tucker County, West Virginia. Feb. 1923. © 1May23, F42267. R67024, 14Aug50. De Witt, Saline County, Nebraska. May 1923 © 26Jun23, F42435. R67076, 5Sep50. Deadwood, Lawrence County, South Dakota Apr. 1923. © 27Jul23, F42531. R67601, 5Sep50. Delaware, including Stratford, Delaware County, Ohio. Feb. 1923 © 28May23, F42373. R67057, 14Aug50. Delaware Water Gap, Monroe County, Pennsylvania. May 1923. © 2Aug23, F42524. R65862, 11Aug50. Denison, Crawford County, Iowa. Mar. 1923. © 5Jun23, F42396. R67064, 5Sep50. Douglasville, Douglas County, Georgia, June 1923. © 4Sep23, F42609. R67635, 13Sep50. Elizabeth, New Jersey, V. 2, 1923 © 21Mar23, F42189. R65841, 11Aug50. Elkton, Todd County, Kentucky. June 1923. © 25Jul23, F42506. R67106, 14Aug50. Englewood, Clark County, Kansas. Jan. 1923. © 5May23, F42277. R67027, 5Sep50. Eric, Monroe County, Michigan. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42325. R67035, 5Sep50. Eureka, Juab County, Utah. Feb. 1923. © 16Jun23, F42423. R67069, 5Sep50. Exeter, Barry County, Missouri. Mar. 1923. © 29May23, F42357. R67050, 5Sep50. <pb id='256.png' n='1950_h2/A/0086' /> Fairview, Newton County, Missouri. Mar. 1923. © 29May23, F42356. R67049, 5Sep50. Flemington, Polk County, Missouri. Mar. 1923. © 29May23, F42351. R67046, 5Sep50. Foxboro, Norfolk County, Massachusetts. May 1923. © 7Jul23, F42454. R65853, 11Aug50. Freeman, Cass County, Missouri. May 1923. © 4Aug23, F42540. R67608, 5Sep50. Fremont, including Ballville, Sandusky County, Ohio. 1923. © 13Sep23, F42632. R68495, 17Oct50. Frontenac, Crawford County, Kansas. May 1923. © 4Aug23, F42544. R67610, 5Sep50. Gilbert, Maricope County, Arizona. Apr. 1923. © 23Jul23, F42510. R67109, 5Sep50. Gilmer, Upshur County, Texas. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42499. R67103, 14Aug50. Goshen, Orange County, New York. Apr. 1923. © 12Jun23, F42413. R65850, 11Aug50. Grafton, including Pruntytown, Taylor County, West Virginia. Apr. 1923. © 7Jul23, F42443. R67080, 14Aug50. Grand Saline, Van Zandt County, Texas. Apr. 1923. © 28May23, F42367. R67054, 14Aug50. Great Barrington, Berkshire County, Massachusetts. June 1923. © 14Aug23, F42570. R67621, 17Aug50. Greenville, including Mineral Heights and Peniel, Texas. 1923. © 29May23, F42376. R67058, 14Aug50. Guthris, Todd County, Kentucky. Apr. 1923. © 21Jun23, F42425. R67070, 14Aug50. Hartford and West Hartford, Connecticut. v. 3, 1923. © 16Apr23, F42256. R65843, 11Aug50. Harwood, Vernon County, Missouri. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42480. R67089, 5Sep50. Hayward, Alameda County, California. May 1923. © 29Jun23, F42441. R67079, 5Sep50. Hillsboro, Highland County, Ohio. Jan. 1923. © 11Apr23, F42250. R66061, 14Aug50. Hillsboro, including Schram City, Montgomery County, Illinois. Mar. 1923. © 7Jul23, F42457. R67086, 29Aug50. Honer Path, Anderson County, South Carolina. May 1923. © 12Jul23, F42464. R65854, 11Aug50. Hot Springs, Fall River County, South Dakota. May 1923. © 4Aug23, F42545. R67611, 5Sep50. Humphreys, Sullivan County, Missouri. July 1923. © 29Aug23, F42595. R67629, 5Sep50. Ingomar, Rosebug County, Montana. Jan. 1923 © 24Jan23, F42089. R67018, 5Sep50. Jamestown, Green County, Ohio. Feb. 1923. © 9Apr23, F42223. R66060, 14Aug50. Keyser, Mineral County, West Virginia. Feb 1923. © 4Apr23, F42218. R66059, 14Aug50. Kincaid, Christian County, Illinois. Jan. 1923. © 17May23, F42334. R67041, 5Sep50. Kingman, Kingman County, Kansas. Feb. 1923. © 8May23, F42299. R67029, 5Sep50. <pb id='257.png' /> Kingman, Mohave County, Arizona. Mar. 1923. © 2Jul23, F42449. R67083, 5Sep50. Kinsman, Trumbull County Ohio. May 1923. © 27Jul23, F42534. R67604, 14Aug50. La Grande, Union County, Oregon. Jan. 1923. © 1May23, F42272. R67026, 5Sep50. La Grange, La Grange County, Indiana. Jan. 1923. © 28Mar23, F42207. R66058, 14Aug50. Lamar, Darlington County, South Carolina June 1923. © 4Sep23, F42610. R67636, 13Sep50. Lampasas, Lampasas County, Texas. Apr. 1923. © 28May23, F42371. R67055, 14Aug50. Leeton, Johnson County, Missouri. Apr. 1923. © 29May23, F42352. R67047, 5Sep50. Linden, Genesee County, Michigan. June 1923. © 27Jul23, F42537. R67605, 5Sep50. Long Beach, California. v. 2, 1923. © 23May23, F42349. R67044, 5Sep50. Long Beach, Nassau County, new York. 1922. © 21Dec22, F42010. R68494, 17Oct50. Los Angeles, California. v. 16, 1923. © 28Jun23, F42436. R67077, 5Sep50. Los Angeles, California. v. 17, 1923. © 28Jun23, F42437. R67078, 5Sep50. Los Angeles, California. v. 18, 1923. © 24Aug23, F42584. R67625, 5Sep50. Lyons, Burt County, Nebraska. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42482. R67091, 5Sep50. Mankato, Jewell County, Kansas. Mar. 1923. © 17May23, F42330. R67038, 5Sep50. Manning, Clarendon County, South Carolina. Apr. 1923. © 7Jul23, F42446. R67081, 14Aug50. Mansfield, Piatt County, Illinois. Apr. 1923. © 16Jun23, F42420. R67067, 5Sep50. Marietta, Love County, Oklahoma. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42485. R67094, 5Sep50. Marion, Somerset County, Maryland. June 1923. © 8Sep23, F42615. R67639, 13Sep50. Marshall, Parks County, Indiana. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42323. R67033, 29Aug50. Mason City, Mason County, Illinois. Jan. 1923. © 8Mar23, F42183. R67021, 5Sep50. Mecca, Parke County, Indiana. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42329. R67037, 29Aug50. Mechanicsburg, Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. June 1923. © 14Aug23, F42568. R67619, 17Aug50. Meridian, Ada County, Idaho. Feb. 1923. © 24May23, F42350. R67045, 5Sep50. Mesa, Maricope County, Arizona. Apr. 1923. © 24Jul23, F42512. R67111, 5Sep50. Milford, Oakland County, Michigan. May 1923. © 27Jul23, F42538. R67606, 5Sep50. Milton, Umatilla County, Oregon. Apr. 1923. © 28Aug23, F42599. R67633, 5Sep50. Minster, Auglaize County, Ohio. May 1923. © 15Aug23, F42562. R67618, 17Aug50. <pb id='258.png' /> Mojave, Kern County, California Apr. 1923. © 1Aug23, F42550. R67615, 5Sep50. Montezuma, Parke County, Indiana. Mar. 1923. © 6Jun23, F42385. R67061, 29Aug50. Nashville, Nash County, North Carolina. June 1923. © 24Jul23, F42503. R65869, 11Aug50. Naugatuck, New Haven County, Connecticut. Mar. 1923. © 8May23, F42306. R65844, 11Aug50. New Cambria, Macon County, Missouri. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42483. R67092, 5Sep50. New York, city of New York, Borough of Manhattan. v. 1, 1923. © 10Apr23, F42225. R65842, 11Aug50. Newberry, newberry County, South Carolina. May 1923. © 21Jul23, F42490. R67098, 14Aug50. Newtown, Sullivan County, Missouri. May 1923. © 4Aug23, F42543. R67609, 5Sep50. Nokomis, including Coalton and Wenonah, Montgomery County, Illinois. Apr. 1923. © 26Jun23, F42429. R67071, 5Sep50. North Bank, Colfax County, Nebraska. Jan. 1923. © 17May23, F42337. R67042, 5Sep50. North Salem, Hendricks County, Indiana. Jan. 1923. © 17May23, F42333. R67040, 29Aug50. Northampton, Northampton County. Pennsylvania. June 1923. © 20Aug23, F42576. R67624, 7Sep50. Pangburn, White County, Arkansas. Jan. 1923. © 28May23, F42372. R67056, 14Aug50. Parsons, Labette County, Kansas. Apr. 1923. © 18Jul23, F42492. R67099, 5Sep50. Pass-A-Grille, Pinellas County, Florida. may 1923. © 3Aug23, F42529. R67116, 14Aug50. Pawtucket, including Central Falls, Rhode Island. 1923. © 21Sep23, F42639. R68496, 17Oct50. Peekskill, including Buchanan, Montrose and Verplanck, Westchester County, New York. 1923. © 12May23, F42321. R65846, 11Aug50. Pembroke, Christian County, Kentucky. May 1923. © 11Jul23, F42452. R67085, 14Aug50. Pender, Thurston County, Nebraska. May 1923. © 27Jul23, F42533. R67603, 5Sep50. Pennsboro, Ritchie County, West Virginia. May 1923. © 24Jul23, F42504. R67104, 14Aug50. Perryville, Cecil County, Maryland. June 1923. © 2Aug23, F42526. R65863, 11Aug50. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. v. 15, 1923. © 15Mar23, F42188. R65840, 11Aug50. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. v. 20, 1923. © 27Aug23, F42597. R67631, 7Sep50. Piggott, Clay County, Arkansas. May 1923. © 2Aug23, F42523. R67113, 14Aug50. Pittsburg, Crawford County, Kansas. 1923. © 18Jul23, F42494. R67101, 5Sep50. Port Deposit, Cecil County, Maryland. June 1923. © 31Jul23, F42521. R65861, 11Aug50. Powersville, Putnam County, Missouri. June 1923. © 29Aug23, F42594. R67628, 5Sep50. <pb id='259.png' n='1950_h2/A/0087' /> Princess Anne, Somerset County, Maryland. May 1923. © 13Aug23, F42558. R67616, 17Aug50. Prosperity, Newberry County, South Carolina. May 1923. © 11Jul23, F42451. R67084, 14Aug50. Protection, Comanche County, Kansas. Jan, 1923. © 17May23, F42327. R67036, 5Sep50. Purdin, Linn County, Missouri, May 1923. © 17Jul25, F42486. R67095, 5Sep50. Ringling, Jefferson County, Oklahoma. May 1923. © 27Jul23, F42539. R67607, 5Sep50. Roachdale, Putnam County, Indiana. Jan. 1923. © 29May23, F42358. R67051, 29Aug50. Rockmart, Polk County, Georgia. Feb 1923. © 8May23, F42305. R67031, 14Aug50. Rockville, Bates County, Missouri. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42484. R67093, 5Sep50. Russellville, Logan County, Kentucky. Apr. 1923. © 6Jun23, F42399. R67065, 14Aug50. St. George, Dorchestar County, South Carolina. June 1923. © 4Sep23, F42611. R67657, 13Sep50. St. Johnsville, Montgomery County, New York. Apr. 1923. © 6Jun23, F42401. R65848, 11Aug50. Salem, Harrison County, West Virginia. May 1923. © 24Jul23, F42505. R67105, 14Aug50. San Fernando, Los Angeles County, California. Jan. 1923. © 15May23, F42338. R67043, 5Sep50. Sanger, Fresno County, California. May 1923. © 23Jul23, F42511. R67110, 5Sep50. Sabree, Webster County, Kentucky. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42498. R67102, 11Aug50. Selma, Fresno County, California. Apr. 1923. © 2Aug23, F42548. R67613, 5Sep50. Sheffield, Berkshire County, Massachusetts. May 1923. © 12Jul23, F42466. R65856, 11Aug50. Sibley, Ford County, Illinois. May 1923. © 29Aug23, F42596. R67630, 5Sep50. Snow Hill, Greene County, North Carolina. Apr. 1923. © 21Jun23, F42426. R65851, 11Aug50. Snow Hill, Worcester County, Maryland. June 1923. © 14Aug23, F42569. R67620, 17Aug50. South Lyon, Oakland County, Michigan. Apr. 1923. © 26Jun23, F42431. R67072, 5Sep50. Southington, including Flantsville and Milldale, Hartford County Connecticut. Mar. 1923. © 28May23, F42368. R65847, 11Aug50. Spartanburg, South Carolina. 1923. © 27Feb23, F42145. R67020, 13Sep50. Stockbridge, Berkshire County, Massachusetts, July 1923. © 4Sep23, F42607. R67634, 13Sep50. Stoughton, Norfolk County, Massachusetts. Apr. 1923. © 21Jun23, F42427. R65852, 11Aug50. Strathmore, Tulare County, California. June 1923. © 2Aug23, F42549. R67614, 5Sep50. Tamaqua, Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. May 1923. © 31Jul23, F42519. R65860, 11Aug50. <pb id='260.png' /> Taylor Springs, Montgomery County, Illinois. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42331. R67039, 5Sep50. Tekemah, Burt County, Nebraska. May 1923. © 26Jun23, F42432. R67073, 5Sep50. Terral, Jefferson County, Oklahoma. Apr. 1923. © 29May23, F42355. R67048, 5Sep50. Thomas, Tucker County, West Virginia. Feb. 1923. © 26Apr23, F42264. R67023, 14Aug50. Ticonderoga, Essex County, New York. June 1923. © 8Sep23, F42613. R67638, 13Sep50. Timmonsville, Florence County, South Carolina. June 1923. © 20Aug23, F42573. R67622, 7Sep50. Trenton, Todd County, Kentucky. May 1923. © 7Jul23, F42447. R67082, 14Aug50. Two Harbors, Lake County, Minnesota. May 1923. © 26Jun23, F42433. R67074, 5Sep50. Waterloo, De Kalb County, Indiana. May 1923. © 17Jul23, F42488. R67097, 29Aug50. Waurika, Jefferson County, Oklahoma. Apr. 1923. © 16Jun23, F42421. R67068, 5Sep50. Wausau, including Schofield, Brokaw and Rothschild, Wisconsin. 1923. © 20Jul23, F42508. R67107, 5Sep50. Waveland, Montgomery County, Indiana. Feb. 1923. © 17May23, F42324. R67034, 29Aug50. Waverly, Sussex County, Virginia. June 1923. © 11Aug23, F42556. R65864, 11Aug50. West Fairview, Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. Apr. 1923. © 12Jun23, F42411. R65849, 11Aug50. West Formington, Trumbull County, Ohio. May 1923. © 29Aug23, F42591. R67627, 7Sep50. West Grove, Chester County, Pennsylvania. June 1923. © 20Aug23, F42574. R67623, 7Sep50. West Union, Doddridge County, West Virginia. May 1923. © 26Jul23, F42515. R67112, 14Aug50. Wrightstown, Burlington County, new Jersey. July 1923. © 8Sep23, F42618. R67640, 13Sep50. Wrightsville, York County, Pennsylvania. Mar. 1923. © 16May23, F42320. R65845, 11Aug50. Yoe, York County, Pennsylvania. June 1923. © 23Jul23, F42500. R65868, 11Aug50. Zebulon, Wake County, North Carolina. May 1923. © 13Jul23, F42467. R65867, 11Aug50. INTERNATIONAL Correspondence Schools. SEE Westinghouse air brake. R70151. INTERNATIONAL Textbook Company. SEE Westinghouse air brake. R70151. AN INTRODUCTION TO ECONOMICS, by Harley L. Lutz and Benjamin F. Stanton. © 3May23, A705315. R70109, 13Nov50, Row, Peterson & Co. (PWH) THE INTRUDER, by Meta M. Grimball. © 13Feb23, K172706. R64071, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) INVASION OF THE SANCTUARY, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. (In Vanity fair) © Frances Scott Fitzgerald Lanahan (C) Oct. 1923 issue. © 20Sep23, B585256. R70984, 4Dec50. <pb id='261.png' /> INWARD HO! By Christopher Morley. © 26Oct23, A759992. R68983, 27Oct50, Christopher Morley (A) IRELAND'S STORY, by Charles Johnston and Carita Spencer. New ed. © on additional chapter. 1904-1922; 14Mar23, A698744. R68922, 30Oct50, Carita Spencer Daniell (A) THE IRISH GUARDS IN THE GREAT WAR. Part 1. The First Battalion. By Rudyard Kipling. Outward bound ed. (The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling, v. 29) © 24Nov23, A765171. R70592, 27Nov50, Elsie Bambridge (C) Part 2. The First Battalion, and appendices. By Rudyard Kipling. Outward bound ed. (The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling, v. 30) © 24Nov23, A765172. R70593, 27Nov50, Elsie Bambridge (C) IRONHEART, by William MacLeod Raine. © 15Jun23, A705868. R69677, 9Nov50, William MacLeod Raine (A) IRRELOHE, Oper in drei Aufzügen von Franz Schreker. Klavierauszug mit Text. © 28Aug23, D26558. R69991, 14Nov50, Maria Schreker (W) IRVIN, Rea. SEE Opera guyed. R71051. IS it peace? SEE Where are we going? R68781. ISABELLE ET PANTALON, opéra-bouffe en 2 actes de Max Jacob. Musique de Roland-Manuel. Partition piano et chant. © 14Dec22, D26399. R69896, 1Nov50, Levy Roland, dit Roland-Manuel (A) ISHMAEL TELLS THE TOWN HO'S STORY, by Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Kick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169286. R67339, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) ISLAND GOLD, by Valentine Williams. © 28Mar23, A696979. R69658, 9Nov50, Alice Williams (W) ISLAND nights' entertainments. R68251. SEE The wrong box. THE ISLANDS OF MAGIC. Legends, folk and fairy tales from the Azores, by Elsie Spicer Eells. Illustrated by E. L. Brock. © 19Oct22, A683809. R68005, 6Oct50, Elsie Spicer Eells (A) ISTEL, Edgar. SEE The art of writing opera-librettos. R64802. IT'S REAL COFFEE. © 26Jun23, Print 6916. R70351, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) ITS SUNNY FLAVOR WINS YOUR FAVOR. (Coffee) © 5Jun23, Print 6923. R70358, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) IVANHOE, by Sir Walter Scott. Illustrated by Frank E. Schoonover. © on illus.; 14Sep23, A752994. R68956, 30Oct50, Frank E. Schoonover (A) JACOB, Max. SEE Isabelle et Pantalon. R69896. JACOBS, Michel. SEE The art of colour. R65245. JACOBS (Walter) inc. SEE The Cadenza. Jacobs band monthly. <pb id='262.png' n='1950_h2/A/0088' /> JACOBS' BAND MONTHLY. © Walter Jacobs, inc. (PCW) v. 7, no. 8. Aug. 1922. © 25Jul22, B533098. R64637, 21Jul50. v. 7, no. 9. Sept. 1922. © 25Jul22, B534812. R65998, 21Jul50. v. 7, no. 10. Oct. 1922. © 25Jul22, B548982. R67186, 15Sep50. v. 7, no. 11, Nov. 1922. © 25Oct22, B550683. R68533, 23Oct50. v. 7, no. 12, Dec. 1922. © 25Nov22, B553538. R70279, 22Nov50. v. 8, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 27Dec22, B569073. R72035, 26Dec50. JACOB'S ROOM, by Virgina Woolf. © 8Feb23, (pub. abroad 26Oct22, AI-4787), A698251. R68009, 6Oct50, Leonard Woolf (Wr) JAEGER, Edmund C. SEE Denizens of the desert; a book of southwestern mammals, birds and reptiles. R68668. JAMES, Harman G. SEE The republics of Latin America. R66664. JANET MARCH, by Floyd Dell. © 5Oct23, A760295. R68150, 11Oct50, Floyd Dell (A) JARGEN, by Max Brand [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Short Stories) © Dorothy Faust (W) Nov. 25, 1922 issue. © 23Nov22, B552799. R64895, 31Jul50. JAVA AND THE EAST INDIES, by Frank G. Carpenter. (Carpenter's world travels) © 7Sep23, A760030. R67005, 13Sep50, Frances Carpenter Huntington (C) JAY'S TREATY; a study in commerce and diplomacy, by Samuel Flagg Bemis. © 10Apr23, A704128. R71181, 8Dec50, Knights of Columbus (PWH) JEALOUSY; ENEMIES; THE LAW OF THE SAVAGE, by Mikhail Petrovich Artzybasheff; translated by Frida Strindberg. © 1Nov23, A760971. R71178, 7Dec50, Frida Strindberg (A) JEEVES, by P. G. Wodehouse. © 28Sep23, A760183. R67967, 6Oct50, P. G. Wodehouse (A) JENNINGS, Gertrude E. SEE Hearts to sell. R67123. JENSEN, Johannes Vilhelm. SEE The long journey; fire and ice. R71272. The long journey; the Cimbrians. R71945. JEREMY AND HAMLET, by Hugh Walpole. © 28Sep23, A759231. R67961, 6Oct50, Rupert Hart-Davis (E), F. A. S. Owatkin (E) & Alan Bott (E) JEROME, Helen. SEE The secret of woman. R67268. JERVAS, Charles. SEE Don Quixote. R69928. JESSUP, by Newton Fuessle. © 22Mar23, A704016. R67269, 18Sep50, Newton Fuessle (A) THE JESTER. R67118. SEE Three wonder plays. THE JESUS Of OUR FATHERS, by John Walter Good. © 8May23, A705342. R69403, 2Nov50, John W. Good (A) <pb id='263.png' /> JESUS OF THE EMERALD, by Gene Stratton Porter; decorations by Edward Everett Winchell. © 21Dec23, A765566. R71926, 22Dec50, Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) UN JEUNE OFFICIER PAUVRE, par Pierre Loti [pseud. de Julien Viaud] © 9Jul23, AF22885. R68407, 13Oct50, Samuel Loti-Viaud (C) JEWISH Publishing House, ltd. SEE Tagebucher. R64002 ... JIBBY JONES; a story of Mississippi River adventure for boys, by Ellis Parker Butler. With illus. by Arthur G. Dorr. © 14Sep23, A752948. R69682, 9Nov50, Ida Ann Butler (W) JIMENEZ, Juan Ramón. SEE Platero y yo. R67298. JINX, a new comedy by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. © 27Oct23, D65865. R69228, 2Nov50, Catherine C. Cushing (A) JO ELLEN, by Alexander Black © 21Sep23, A759106. R68960, 30Oct50, Edith O'Dell Black (W) JOE WHITE'S BRAND, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Oct. 14, 1922 issue. © 11Oct22, B549452. R64891, 31Jul50. JOFFE, Judah A. SEE My musical life. R71941. JOHN BROWN, by Gamaliel Bradford. (In Atlantic monthly) © Helen F. Bradford (W) Nov. 1922 issue. © 17Oct22, B549703. R68490, 16Oct50. JOHN H. PATTERSON, PIONEER IN INDUSTRIAL WELFARE, by Samuel Crowther. (In System) © Mary Owens Crowther (W) Aug. 1923 issue. © 10Jul23, B581656. R65201, 13Jul50. Sept. 1923 issue. © 9Aug23, B585346. R65762, 10Aug50. Oct. 1923 issue. © 8Sep23, B585486. R67008, 13Sep50. Nov. 1923 issue. © 9Oct23, B603979. R68158, 11Oct50. Dec. 1923 issue. © 9Nov23, B603980. R70039, 10Nov50. JOHN H. PATTERSON, PIONEER IN INDUSTRIAL WELFARE, by Samuel Crowther. © 28Nov23, A766226. R71043, 29Nov50, Mary Owens Crowther (W) JOHN-NO-BRAWN, by George Looms. © 19Oct23, A759662. R68779, 23Oct50, Laura Doub Looms (W) JOHNSON (Cyril) Woolen Company. SEE The fabric's the thing. R64023. JOHNSON, Merle DeVore. SEE Howard Pyle's book of the American spirit; the romance of American history. R68966. JOHNSON Nut Company. SEE Johnson's sane nuts. R67234. JOHNSON'S SANE NUTS, "they're more refined," (Salted nuts) © 28Dec22, Label 25880. R67234, 18Sep50, Johnson Nut Co. (P) JOHNSTON, Charles. SEE Ireland's story. R68922. JOHNSTONE, Will. SEE The buss. R64009. <pb id='264.png' /> THE JOLLIEST SCHOOL OF ALL, by Angela Brazil; illustrated by W. Smithson Broadhead. Pub abroad as "The school in the south." © 9Feb23, (pub. abroad 15Sep22, AI-4706), A698269. R68237, 13Oct50, Amy Brazil (NK) JONES VERSUS JONES, a modern comedy in one act by Florence Lewis Speare. (French's international edition) © 30Dec22, D63506. R71149, 6Dec50, Florence Lewis Speare (A) JORDAN, H. H. SEE Engineering drawing. R71860. THE JORDANS, by Sarah Gertrude Millin. © 28Sep23, A760330. R71177, 7Dec50, Sarah Gertrude Millin (A) JOSEY, Charles Conant. SEE The social philosophy of instinct. R63984. JOUGLET, René. SEE La nuit pathétique. R64190. THE JOURNAL OF BIOLOGICAL CHEMISTRY. © The American Society of Biological Chemists, Inc. (PCW) v. 55, nos. 1-4, Jan.-Apr. 1923. © 17Jan23, B568256; 16Feb23, B570637; 17Mar23, B572902; 27Apr23, B575781. R71561-71564, 15Dec50. v. 56, nos. 1-3, May-July 1923. © 25May23, B577709; 3Jul23, B580420; 27Jul23, B582171. R71565-71567, 15Dec50. v. 57, nos. 1-3, Aug.-Oct. 1923. © 31Aug23, B584611; 25Sep23, B586360; 2Nov23, B589254. R71568-71570, 15Dec50. v. 58, no. 1, Nov. 1923. © 8Dec23, B604031. R71571, 15Dec50. JOURNAL OF EXPERIMENTAL MEDICINE. © Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research (PCW) v. 38, no. 1, July 1, 1923. © 5Jul23, B580506. R64021, 10Jul50. v. 38, no. 2, Aug. 1, 1923. © 2Aug23, B582546. R65700, 15Aug50. v. 38, no. 3, Sept. 1, 1923. © 11Sep23, B585220. R67287, 19Sep50. v. 38, no. 4, Oct. 1, 1923. © 8Oct23, B587354. R68259, 13Oct50. v. 38, no. 5, Nov. 1, 1923. © 5Nov23, B589358. R70105, 13Nov50. JOURNAL OF GENERAL PHYSIOLOGY. © Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research (PCW) v. 5, no. 6, July 20, 1923. © 20Jul23, B581748. R64684, 25Jul50. v. 6, no. 1, Sept. 20, 1923. © 20Sep23, B585917. R67404, 25Sep50. v. 6, no. 2, Nov. 20, 1923. © 17Nov23, B590530. R70304, 24Nov50. JOYCE, Hewette Elwell. SEE Poems and plays. R65365. J'TE VEUX, comédie-operette en 3 actas de Wilned et Marcel Grandjean, Musique nouvelle de Gaharoche, Fred Pearley, Valsien, et René Mercier, sur paroles de Battaille Henri. (Text only) © 2Apr23, D64124. R64192, 10Jul50, William Wilned (A) Marcel Grandjean (A) JUDITH OF THE GODLESS VALLEY, by Honoré (McCue) Willsie Morrow. © 25Aug22, A683004. R66008, 18Aug50, Cornelia M. Chester (E) JUDSON Press. SEE The larger stewardship. R72042. <pb id='265.png' n='1950_h2/A/0089' /> THE JUDSONS ENTERTAIN, a comedy in three acts by Edith Ellis. (French's standard library edition) © 30Dec22, D63509. R71152, 6Dec50, Edith Ellis (A) JUNE MADNESS, a photoplay in six reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 25Oct22, L18375. R68018, 5Oct50, Loew's inc. (PWH) JUNGLE LAW, by I. A. R. Wylie. (In Good housekeeping) © I. A. R. Wylie (A) Feb. 1923 issue. © 20Jan23, B568421. R70025, 6Nov50. Mar. 1923 issue. © 20Feb23, B571299. R70026, 6Nov50. Apr. 1923 issue. © 20Mar23, B573141. R70027, 6Nov50. JUNGLE PALS, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 10Aug23, L19333. R68432, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Fox Film Corp. (PWH) JUNK: or, ONE OF THOSE SUNDAY MORNINGS. A play in one act by Henry Clapp Smith. © 20Sep22, D61993. R67120, 14Sep50, Henry Clapp Smith (A) JUNKIN, Blanche (Chenault) SEE Through the year with Emerson. R71977. JURGEN, a comedy of justice by Charlton Andrews and James Branch Cabell. © 17Oct22, D62499. R64654, 21Jul50, Mrs. A. Shirley Andrews (W) JUSTICE IN THE PAINTED HILLS, by Alexander Hull. (In American magazine) © Alexander Hull (A) July 1923 issue. © 24May23, B577737. R71056, 8Nov50. KAHN'S (E.) Sons Company. SEE Demand this brand. R67899. Poplar. R68503 ... Signed on the rind. R67898. KAIN, by Max Brand [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Argosy magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 2, 1922 issue © 30Nov22, B552829. R64898, 31Jul50. Dec. 9, 1922 issue. © 7Dec22, B553379. R64899, 31Jul50. Dec. 16, 1922 issue. © 14Dec22, B553860. R64900, 31Jul50. Dec. 23, 1922 issue. © 21Dec22, B554526. R64901, 31Jul50. Dec. 30, 1922 issue. © 28Dec22, B554912. R64902, 31Jul50. KAMMERER, Paul. SEE Rejuvenation and the prolongation of human efficiency. R71179. KANGAROO, by D. H. Lawrence. © 17Sep23, A760053. R69078, 17Oct50, Frieda Lawrence (W) KATRINA AND JAN, by Alice Cooper Bailey; illustrated by Herman Rosse. © 1Jul23, A77766. R63904, 7Jul50, Alice Cooper Bailey (A) KAUFFMAN, Reginald Wright. SEE The real story of a bootlegger. R68123. KAUFFMAN, Ruth. SEE I don't want to go to bed. R72287. I don't want to wear coats and things. R72286. KAUFMAN, George Simon. SEE Dulcy. R65679. The real story of a bootlegger. R67282. <pb id='266.png' /> KEAL, Harry M. SEE Answers to problems in Technical mathematics ... R71102 ... Technical mathematics. R71096. KEEP WARM ON A FROZEN CORNER WITH THIS UNDERWEAR. © 11Nov22, Print 6575. R65419, 8Aug50, Wright's Underwear Corp. (P) KEEPING ELLEN OUT OF IT, by Kathleen Norris. (In Cosmopolitan) © Kathleen Norris (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 10Sep23, B585108. R67006, 13Sep50. KEEZER, Frank H. SEE A treatise on the law of marriage and divorce. R72190. KELLAND, Clarence Budington. SEE Catty Atkins, financier. R72006 ... Murder. R64005. Scattergood appraises the pelt of a skunk. R68179. Scattergood becomes a private detective. R68519. The steadfast heart. R68579 ... KELLER, Albert Galloway. SEE Starting points in social science. R68502. KELLY, Ernest. SEE Market milk. R71095. KELLY, Fred Charters. SEE The fun of knowing folks; a book about you and me. R69430. THE KELLY KID, by Kathleen Norris. (In Cosmopolitan) © Kathleen Norris (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 10Jul23, B581768. R64202, 13Jul50. KENT, Cicely. SEE Telling fortunes by cards. R71654. Telling fortunes by tea leaves. R71655. KENT, Frank Richardson. SEE The great game of politics. R68785. KENT, Robert Thurston. SEE Mechanical engineers' handbook. R72257. KENT, William. SEE Mechanical engineers' handbook. R72257. KENTUCKY CHIMNEY CIGARS. © 23Feb23, Label 26094. R70104, 10Nov50, Parodi Cigar Co. of New York (P) KENTUCKY DAYS, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 25Nov23, L19657. R71026, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) KENTUCKY DECISIONS REPORTED IN THE SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER ANNOTATED, V. 244-247, Nov. 1922-Mar. 1923. © 19Jul23, A760948. R68289, 13Oct50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) KESSEL, Joseph. SEE La steppe rouge. R66914. THE KEY OF DREAMS, A ROMANCE OF THE Orient, by L. Adams Beck [1. o. Lily (Moresby) Adams Beck; full name Eliza Louisa Moresby Beck] © 11Nov22, A686804. R67697, 26Sep50, Harry Drake Hodgkinson (E) & James Francis Adams Beck (E) KIDNAPPED, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 9) © on editorial work; 25Aug22, A681632. R63978, 29Jun50, Alan Osbourne (NK) <pb id='267.png' /> KILCAWLEY, E. J. SEE Foundations, abutments and footings. R67314. KILDUFF, Edward J. SEE Business English Problems, 1-25 R68957. KIMBALL, Dexter S. SEE Elements of machine design. R71098. KIMBALL, Fiske. SEE Early American domestic architecture. R68255. KING, Basil. SEE The happy isles. R70407. KING, Marie B. SEE Verse of our day. R72282. KING, Stoddard. SEE What the young author ought to know. R71663. KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS, by James Knowles; illustrated by Louis Rhead and Frank E. Schoonover. © on illus.; 7Dec23, A766269. R71671, 14Dec50, Bertrand Rhead (NK) KING Features Syndicate, inc. SEE Tillie the toiler. R67546. THE KINGMAKERS, by Burton E. Stevenson; illustrated by E. C. Caswell. © 28Oct22, A683963. R67841, 2Oct50, Burton E. Stevenson (A) KINNE, W. S. SEE Foundations, abutments and footings. R67314. Structural members and connections. R67310. KIPLING, Rudyard. SEE Independence; rectorial address at St. Andrews, Oct. 10, 1923. R70384. The Irish Guards in the Great War ... R70592 ... Kipling calendar. R69254. Land and sea tales for boys and girls. R69256. London stone. R70385. Nurses. R59257. KIPLING CALENDAR, by Rudyard Kipling. © 26Oct23, A765204. R69259, 27Oct50, Elsie Bambridge (C) DER KIRCHENCHOR. © Lorenz Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 26, nos. 8-12, Jan.-May 1923. © 16Dec22, B568433; 15Jan23, B571119; 27Jan23, B571120; 10Mar23, B573639; 15Apr23, B577160. R68751-68755, 25Oct50. v. 27, no. 1, June 1923. © 15May23, B577998. R68756, 25Oct50. KISER, Donald J. SEE Corpus Juris. R64311 ... Principles and practice of legal research. R64317. KISS OF PHARAOH; the love story of Tutankhamen, by Richard Goyne. © 21Sep23, A759077. R69624, 6Nov50, Richard Goyne (A) KLEIN, Ernst. SEE Am Ends der Welt. R64132. KLEIN, Philip. SEE The burden of unemployment. Relief measures in fifteen American cities 1921-22. R69492. KLEINSCHMIDT, Rudolph August. SEE Kleindshmidt and Highley's Oklahoma form book and manual of pleading and practice annotated. R68279. <pb id='268.png' n='1950_h2/A/0090' /> KLEINSCHMIDT AND HIGHLEY'S OKLAHOMA FORM BOOK AND MANUAL of pleading and practice annotated, by R. A. Kleinschmidt and Mont. F. Highley, 5th ed. Rev. and enl. © 21Sep23, A760938. R68279, 13Oct50, R. A. Kleinschmidt (A) & Mont. F. Highley (A) KLEISER, Granville. SEE Training for power and leadership. R65127. KLINGENSMITH, Annie. SEE Fireside stories. R71574. KNIBBS, Henry Herbert. SEE Saddle songs and other verse. R64986. KNIGHT, Augustus C. SEE Pepita. R70617. KNIGHTS of Columbus. SEE Jay's treaty. R71181. The merchant marine. R71182. The open door doctrine in relation to China. R71183. KNOPF (Alfred A.) inc. SEE Bel ami. R71949. Birds and man. R71273. The bridal wreath. R64218. The confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. R71951. The dreams of Chang and other stories. R71946. The long journey: the Cimbrians. R71945. Miss Harriet and other stories. R71948. My musical life. R71941. The sisters Rondoli and other stories. R71947. That pig Morin and other stories. R71275. Victoria. R71274. Weeds. R71952. A Woman's life. R71276. KNOW ROQUE? by Sam Hellman. (In the Saturday evening post) © Sam Hellman (A) Oct. 21, 1922 issue. © 19Oct22, B549718. R65508, 1Aug50. KNOWLES, Sir James. SEE King Arthur and his knights. R71671. KUHLMAN, John Henry. SEE The light of men; a candle service for Christmas. R69084. KUMMER, Clare (Beecher) SEE Bridges. R71148. KUNNEKE, Edward. SEE The cousin from nowhere. R66176. LABYRINTH, by Helen R. Hull. © 9Oct23, A760282. R69603, 7Nov50, Helen R. Hull (A) LACRETELLE, Jacques de. SEE Silbermann. R66911. LADIES' HOME JOURNAL. © The Curtis Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 40, nos. 2-7, Feb.-July 1923. © 31Jan23, B569118; 28Feb23, B571296; 31Mar23, B573549; 30Apr23, B575804; 31May23, B577990; 30Jun23, B580025. R71234-71239, 6Dec50. <pb id='269.png' /> LADY HOUNSLOW'S CHARITY, by H. C. McNeile; illus. by George W. Gage. Pub. abroad in Pearson's magazine as "The rottenness of Lady Hounslow," by "Sapper" [pseud.] Illus. by W. R. S. Stott. © 27Sep23, (pub. abroad 4Apr23, AI-5065), A757728. R67959, 6Oct50, Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) LADY INTO FOX, by David Garnett. © 30Mar23, A704455. R71047, 4Dec50, David Garnett (A) THE LADY WILL BE SERIOUS, by Don Marquis. (In the New York tribune) © Bernice Maud Marquis (E) Aug. 23, 1923 issue. © 23Aug23, B562295. R66529, 29Aug50. LAGRANDVAL, Jeanne de. SEE Coulomb, Jeanne de. LAHEE, Frederick H. SEE Field geology. R67306. LAI, Gaetano de, cardinal. SEE The Passion of Our Lord. R68921. LAND AND SEA TALES FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, by Rudyard Kipling. © on new matter; 26Oct23, A760863. R69256, 27Oct50, Elsie Bambridge (C) LANGFORD, George. SEE Stories of the first American animals. R67283. THE LANTERN, by Don Marquis. (In the New York tribune) © Bernice Maud Marquis (E) June 29-30, 1923 issues. © 29Jun23, B562240; 30Jun23, B562241. R64271-64272, 3Jul50. July 4, 1923 issue. © 4Jul23, B562245. R64203, 10Jul50. July 20, 1923 issue. © 20Jul23, B562261. R65131, 24Jul50. July 28, 1923 issue. © 28Jul23, B562269. R64974, 31Jul50. Aug. 3, 1923 issue. © 3Aug23, B562275. R65645, 7Aug50. Aug. 21, 1923 issue. © 21Aug23, B562293. R66242, 23Aug50. Aug. 30, 1923 issue. © 30Aug23, B562302. R66659, 31Aug50. Sept. 15, 1923 issue. © 15Sep23, B562318. R67211, 18Sep50. Sept. 17-18, 1923 issues. © 17Sep23, B562320; 18Sep23, B562321. R67373-67374, 20Sep50. Sept. 22, 1923 issue. © 22Sep23, B562325. R67699, 27Sep50. Sept. 24-25, 1923 issues. © 24Sep23, B562327; 25Sep23, B562328. R67532-67533, 26Sep50. Oct. 3-4, 1923 issues. © 30Oct23, B562336; 4Oct23, B562337. R67969-67970, 6Oct50. Oct 5, 1923 issue. © 5Oct23, B562338. R68155, 11Oct50. Oct. 9, 1923 issue. © 9Oct23, B562342. R68156, 11Oct50. Oct. 12, 1923 issue. © 12Oct23, B562345. R68484, 17Oct50. Oct. 13, 1923 issue. © 13Oct23, B562346. R68485, 17Oct50. Oct. 18, 1923 issue. © 18Oct23, B562351. R68789, 23Oct50. Oct. 19, 1923 issue. © 19Oct23, B562352. R68790, 23Oct50. Oct. 24, 1923 issue. © 24Oct23, B562357. R69261, 27Oct50. Oct. 27, 1923 issue. © 27Oct23, B562360. R69262, 30Oct50. Nov. 5, 1923 issue. © 5Nov23, B562369. R70037, 10Nov50. <pb id='270.png' /> LARDNER, Ring Wilmer. SEE The big drought. R64695. Bluebeard. R64696. Cinderella. R64697. In regards to geniuses. R64694. THE LARGER STEWARDSHIP, by Charles A. Cook. © 2Apr23, A705385. R72042, 27Dec50, The Judson Press (PWH) LASCELLES, Ernita. SEE The sacrificial goat. R71174. LASKA, Edward. SEE We've got to have money. R69362. LAST EIGHTEEN DECANATES ANALYZED, by Elbert Benjamine. (Natal astrology, 104, course X-B) © 21Feb23, A709630. R65380, 9Aug50, Elbert Benjamine (A) LATTUADA, Felice. SEE La Tempesta. R70813. A LAUGH A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY, by Irvin S. Cobb. © 5Oct23, A760685. R68152, 11Oct50, Laura Baker Cobb (W) THE LAW AND PRACTICE IN BANKRUPTCY UNDER THE NATIONAL BANKRUPTCY ACT OF 1898, by William Miller Collier. 13th ed. by Frank B. Gilbert and Fred E. Roebrook. In 4 v. v. 1-2. © 16Jun23, A705871; 19Jul23, A752187. R64832-64833, 26Jul50, Matthew Bender & Co., inc. (PWH) THE LAW OF THE PRESS; text, statutes and cases, by William G. Hale. © 2May23, A752248. R64358, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) THE LAW of the savage. SEE Jealousy; Enemies; The law of the savage. R71178. LAW OF WILLS, EXECUTORS AND ADMINISTRATORS, by James Schouler. Arthur W. Blakemore, ed. 6th ed., rev., in 4 v. v. 1-2, 3 and 4. © 5Apr23, A698908; 20Apr23, A705070; 30Apr23, A705352. R64828, R64830-64831, 26Jul50, Matthew Bender & Co., inc. (PWH) LAWRENCE, David Herbert. SEE Birds, beasts and flowers. R69075. Kangaroo. R69078. Mastro-Don Gesualdo. R69076. Studies in classic American literature. R69074. LAWSON, James Gilchrist. SEE The world's best humorous anecdotes. R66660. LAWSON, William Pinkney. SEE Lem Allen. R71171. LEACOCK, Stephen. SEE College days. R71373. Elements of political science. R68516. Over the footlights. R66922. LEBLANC, Maurice. SEE Dorothée, danseuse de corde. R64185. Les nuit coups de l'horloge. R65754. LÉCAVELÉ, Rolland Maurice. SEE Dorgeles, Roland. LECRON, Helen Cowles. SEE Bettina's best desserts. R66241. Bettina's best salads. R66240. <pb id='271.png' n='1950_h2/A/0091' /> LED BY A STAR, THREE HOLY KINGS HAVE REACHED BETHLEHEM AFTER A LONG JOURNEY, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169957. R66981, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) LEE, Jennette. SEE Lee, Jennette Barbour (Perry) LEE, Jennette Barbour (Perry) SEE The mysterious office. R68250. LEGISLATIVE PROCEDURE, the science of legislation, by Robert Luce. © 8Sep22, A681721. R64984, 31Jul50, Waldo S. Kendall (E), Frank A. Keen (E) & Dwight W. Robinson (E) LEHÁR, Franz. SEE Lehár, Ferenc LEHÁR, Ferenc SEE Die Tangokönigin. R72254. LEM ALLEN, by William Pinkney Lawson. © 25Aug23, A711888. R71171, 7Dec50, William Pinkney Lawson (A) LE MAIRE, Eveline. SEE La bonne idée de cousine Maria. R65755. THE LENGTHENED SHADOW, by William J. Locke. © 15Sep23, A759044. R71372, 8Dec50, Leslie Scott Mitchell (E) LEONARD, Clarence J. SEE Answers to problems in Technical mathematics ... R71102 ... Technical mathematics. R71096. LEONARD, William Ellery. SEE Red bird; a drama of Wisconsin history in four acts. R64251. Two lives. R64252. A LETTER IN REPLY TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF YALE UNIVERSITY, by William McFee. (In the Bookman) © William McFee (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 24Sep23, B586390. R67535, 26Sep50. LETTERS OF JAMES GIBBONS HUNEKER, collected and edited by Josephine Huneker. © 6Oct22, A686173. R65667, 8Aug50, Josephine Huneker (W) LETTRES DE MON MOULIN, par Alphonse Daudet. Direct-method exercises, notes and vocabulary by Osmond T. Robert. (Heath's modern language series) © 30Sep22, A686276. R67295, 20Sep50, Madeleine Robert (W) LEVETZOW, Karl Michael. SEE Die heilige Ente. R69992. LEVY, Newman. SEE Opera guyed. R71051. LEVY, Roland Alexis Manuel. SEE Manuel, Roland. LEWARS, Elsie (Singmaster) SEE The hidden road. R69673. LEWIS, Gilbert Newton. SEE Thermodynamics and the free energy of chemical substances. R67308. LEWIS, Harry. SEE Don't weaken. R66972. What would you do? R66973. LEWIS, Janet. SEE The friendly adventures of Ollie Ostrich. R67966. LEWIS, Nolan Don Carpentier. SEE The constitutional factors in dementia precox. R71970. LEWIS, Sinclair. SEE The hack driver. R66530. <pb id='272.png' /> LEWIS, Warren K. SEE Principles of chemical engineering. R68491. LEWISOHN, Ludwig. SEE Don Juan. R71172. LEWYS, Georges. SEE Merry-go-round. R67805. LIBBEY, Marian Prince. SEE Guide to shops and services, 1922-1923. R65944. LIBBEY, Mrs. Henry A. SEE Where to stop along new England motor trails, 1923. R65945. LIEBSTOECKL, Hans. SEE Anna Karenina. R67406. THE LIFE OF REASON; or, THE PASES OF HUMAN PROGRESS, by George Santayana. 2d ed., with a new pref., introd. and reason in common sense. © 27Oct22, A683999. R65663, 8Aug50, George Santayana (A) THE LIFE OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, by Rosaline Masson. © 7Nov23, A766258. R71292, 6Dec50, Charles Guthrie (E) LIFE OF THE BLUE AND YELLO DAUBER, by Paul Griswold Howes. (In Nature magazine) © Paul Griswold Howes (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 20Sep23, B586280. R69266, 30Oct50. THE LIFE OF THE SCORPION, by J. Henri Fabre; translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos and Bernard Miall. © 21Jul23, A711333. R65124, 27Jul50, Geoffrey William Russell (E of Alexander Teixeira de Mattos) A LIFE OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, by Joseph Quincy Adams. © 1Jun23, A704835. R71799, 18Dec50, Helen Banks Adams (C) LIFE ON A MEDIAEVAL BARONY, by William Stearns Davis. © 7Sep23, A711813. R68950, 30Oct50, Alice Redfield Davis (W) LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI, by Mark Twain [pseud. of Samuel Langhorne Clemens] with an introd. by J. W. Rankin. (Harper's modern classics) © 1Jun23, A704779. R66534, 29Aug50, The Mark Twain Co. (PWH) LIFE ZONES, by Enos A. Mills. (In American boy) © Esther B. Mills (W) Dec. 1923 issue. © 25Nov23, B603490. R71045, 29Nov50. THE LIGHT GUITAR, by Arthur Guiterman. © 28Sep23, A760119. R67952, 6Oct50, Mrs. Arthur Guiterman (W) THE LIGHT OF MEN; a candle service for Christmas, by J. H. Kuhlman. © 4Nov22, A689353. R69084, 31Oct50, Arthur Kuhlman (C) LIGHT WINES AND BEER; or, NOW AND THEN. A play in three acts by Aaron Hoffman. [Acts 1-2] © 10Oct22, D62423. R65270, 13Jul50, Minnie Z. Hoffman (W) [Act 3] © 6Nov22, D62688. R65271, 13Jul50, Minnie Z. Hoffman (W) LILIES OF THE FIELD, a comedy in 3 acts by john Hastings Turner. © 3Jul23, D64941. R64179, 13Jul50, John Hastings Turner (A) LINDQUIST, Gustavus Elmer Emanuel. SEE The red man in the United States. R68946. LIP MALRY'S WIFE, by George Agnew Chamberlain. © 21Sep23, A759104. R68958, 30Oct50, George Agnew Chamberlain (A) <pb id='273.png' /> LIST[S] OF PARTS, by Thomas W. Cutting. © The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) Machines nos. 107W8 to 107W11. (Form 1856W, Mar. 1923) © 28Apr23, A706621. R72253, 26Dec50. Machines nos. 114W103 and 114W104. (Form 1737W rev., Jan. 1923) © 14Feb23, A699856. R72243, 26Dec50. Machine no. 107W50. (Form 1820W, Nov. 1922) © 14Dec22, A694032. R65076, 31Jul50. Machine no. 114W110. (Form 1824W, Oct. 1922) © 15Nov22, A691143. R65070, 31Jul50. Machine no. 114W120. (Form 1858W, Dec. 1922) © 31Jan23, A697520. R72239, 26Dec50. Machine no. 132W100. (Form 1834W, Jan. 1923) © 16Feb23, A699855. R72242, 26Dec50. LIST[S] OF PARTS, by William R. Grant. © The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) Machines nos. 17-1 to 17-30. (Form 8884, Feb. 1923) © 27Mar23, A698814. R72241, 26Dec50. Machines nos. 42-1 to 42-4 and 42-8. (Form 8904, Feb. 1923) © 1Mar23, A698505. R72240, 26Dec50. Machines nos. 43-1 to 43-6. (Form 8901, Mar. 1923) © 14Mar23, A701794. R72245, 26Dec50. Machine no. 42-5. (Form 8898, Jan. 1923) © 17Jan23, A695646. R72235, 26Dec50. S. D. 801 ..., S.A. 920 ... motors. (Form 8890, Mar. 1923) © 31Mar23, A703139. R72250, 26Dec50. THE LITERATURE OF BUSINESS; selected and edited by Herbert Le Sourd Creek and Alta Gwinn Saunders. Rev. ed. © 10Oct23, A760320. R68967, 30Oct50, Herbert Le Sourd Creek (A) LITHOGRAPHED BANK STATEMENT FOLDER, green border and design. (421) © 26Feb23, K173063. R67939, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BANK STATEMENT FOLDER, green border and design. (423) © 26Feb23, K173064. R67940, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, elk and scroll design, brown color on face; dog and scroll design, blue color on back. (1005) © 20Feb23, K172974. R67938, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, elk and scroll design, brown color on face; horses and scroll design, blue color on back. (1009) © 20Feb23, K172970. R67934, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, horses and arena and scroll design, brown color on face; scroll design, blue color on back. (1006) © 20Feb23, K172973. R67937, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, scroll design, brown color, on face; "George Washington" and scroll design, blue color on back. (1010) © 20Feb25, K172969. R67933, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, scroll design, brown color on face; pilgrim and scroll design, blue color on back. (1008) © 20Feb23, K172971. R67935, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) <pb id='274.png' n='1950_h2/A/0092' /> LITHOGRAPHED BLANK CERTIFICATE, scroll design, brown color on face; scroll design, blue color on back. (1007) © 20Feb23, K172972. R67936, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BLANK STOCK CERTIFICATE, brown border, eagle vignette. (367) © 3Oct23, K178788. R69965, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED BOND WITH TWENTY COUPONS ATTACHED, green border and back. (129) © 2Aug23, K177536. R69962, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED FIRST MORTGAGE NOTE, eagle vignette, green border on face and back. (301) © 21Mar23, K173703. R69960, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED STOCK CERTIFICATE, eagle vignette, green border, with stub. (196) © 2Aug23, K177537. R69963, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED STOCK CERTIFICATE AND STUB, eagle vignette, brown border. (363) © 3Oct23, K178787. R69964, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED STOCK CERTIFICATE WITH STUB, grey and black border. (419) © 21Mar23, K173702. R69959, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITHOGRAPHED STOCK CERTIFICATE WITH STUB, "lady" vignette, green border on face and back. (191) © 16Jan23, K171729. R67932, 6Oct50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) LITMAN, Simon. SEE Essentials of international trade. R71864. LITTLE BOY BLUE. (HOSIERY) © 24Nov22, Label 25616. R64083, 12Jul50, Toe-wear Hosiery, inc. (P) LITTLE CHURCH AROUND THE CORNER, a photoplay in six reels by Warner Brothers. © 15Jan23, L18673. R72139, 21Dec50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) LITTLE JESSIE JAMES, a musical farce in 2 acts by Harlan Thompson, music by Harry Auracher. [Text only] © 16Jul23, D65120. R64494, 17Jul50, Harlan Thompson (A) A LITTLE MAID OF MARYLAND, by Alice Turner Curtis; illustrated by Nat Little. © 1Oct23, A760309. R71053, 4Dec50, Alice Turner Curtis (A) LITTLE MISS BLUEBEARD, a comedy in three acts by Avery Hopwood based upon Der Gutte das Frauleins, by Gabriel Dregely. © 14Aug23, D65255. R65710, 16Aug50, City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) LITTLE WILDCAT, a photoplay in five reels by Vitagraph Company of America. © 10Sep22, L18210. R65217, 3Aug50, Warner Bros. pictures, inc. (PCB) LIVES WORTH LIVING, by Emily Clough Peabody. © 8Aug23, A711687. R66668, 31Aug50, Miriam Peabody Kennedy (E) LIVINGSTON, Arthur. SEE Three plays. R64631. LE LIVRE D'ADRESSES DE MADAME, par Jeanne [Brace] Bredeville. 5. éd., 1923. (Annuaire de la Parisienne) © 30Jun23, AF23176. R65749, 1Aug50, Jeanne Brace-Bredeville (A) <pb id='275.png' /> LLOYD GEORGE, David Lloyd George, 1st earl. SEE Where are we going? R68781. LLOYD GEORGE; THE MAN AND HIS STORY, by Frank Dilnot. New ad. © on chapters 13, 14, 15 & introd.; 20Mar23, A696943. R63976, 29Jun50, Margaret Gregg Dilnot (W) LLOYD (Harold) Corporation. SEE Why worry. R65890. LOBECK, Armin Kohl. SEE Physiographic diagram of Europe, 1923. R69080. LOCHER, Robert E. SEE The Blind bow-boy. R66482. LOCKE, Edward. SEE Yesterdays. R69221. LOCKE, William John. SEE The lengthened shadow. R71372. LOCUM TENENS, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] (In Metropolitan magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) Apr. 1914 issue. © 20Mar14, B299504. R71425, 11Dec50. LODGE, Sir Oliver Joseph. SEE Christopher. R70135. Man and the universe. R70137. The survival of man. R70136. The war and after. R70134. LOEW'S inc. SEE All the brothers were valiant. R71808. A blind bargain. R66174. Broken chains. R67545. Brothers under the skin. R66173. The Christian. R71805. Crinoline and romance. R71807. The egg. R66172. Hearts aflame. R71803. Hungry hearts. R68902. June madness. R68018. Look your best. R71804. Love in the dark. R69933. Peg o' my heart. R71806. Quincy Adams Sawyer. R63160. The stranger's banquet. R69934. Trifling women. R69932. The weak-end party. R67304. Youth to youth. R67544. LOFTING, Hugh. SEE Adventures of Doctor Dolittle. R69627. Dr. Dolittle's post office. R69623. The story of Mrs. Tubbs. R69622. THE LOG OF A FORTY-NINER; journal of a voyage from Newburyport to San Francisco on the Brig. Gen'l. Worth, commanded by Cap't. Samuel Walton, kept by Richard Hale. Carolyn Hale Russ, compiler. © 5Nov23, A766800. R72265, 28Dec50, Ernestine Hale Bellamy (NK) LOIS DUDLEY FINDS PEACE, by Anna Potter Wright. (Evangel booklet no. 10) © 26Apr23, A710270. R70080, 15Nov50, Anna P. Wright (A) LONDON STONE, by Rudyard Kipling. © 10Nov23, A763342. R70385, 20Nov50, Elsie Bambridge (C) THE LONE STAR RANGER, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 15Oct23, L19496. R71010, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) <pb id='276.png' /> LONG, William J. SEE Mother Nature. R66246. THE LONG ARM OF LOONEY COOTE, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, B587589. R68185, 12Oct50. THE LONG JOURNEY: FIRE AND ICE, by Johannes V. Jensen. Translated by A. G. Chater. Pts. 1 and 2 © 25Jan23, A698073. R71272, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) THE LONG JOURNEY: THE CIMBRIANS, by Johannes V. Jensen; translated by A. G. Chater. © 21Sep23, A760287. R71945, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) LONGOBARDI, Louis P. SEE Instruzioni per adoperare la macchina da cucire Singer. R65072. LONGYEAR, Mary Beecher. SEE The genealogy and life of Asa Gilbert Eddy. R65273. Hear, O Israel. R65274. LONGYEAR Foundation. SEE Mrs. Eddy as I knew her in 1870. R64561. LONSDALE, Frederick. SEE Aren't we all. R67220. LOOK YOUR BEST, a photoplay in six reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 25Jan23, L18641. R71804, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) LOOMS, George. SEE John-no-brawn. R68779. LOON, Hendrik Willem van. SEE Van Loon, Hendrik Willem. THE LORD OF THUNDERGATE, by Sidney Herschel Small. (In Sunset magazine) © Sidney Herscel Small (A) Aug. 1922 issue © 15Jul22, B531451. R64041, 13Jul50. Sept. 1922 issue. © 15Aug22, B533628. R64860, 26Jul50. Oct. 1922 issue. © 15Sep22, B547487. R64861, 26Jul50. Nov. 1922 issue. © 15Oct22, B549474. R64862, 26Jul50. Dec. 1922 issue. © 15Nov22, B551725. R64863, 26Jul50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 15Dec22, B554090. R64864, 26Jul50. LORDE, André de. SEE Un concert chez les fous. R68411. LORENZ, Karl K. SEE Children's Day treasury no. 33. R68712. Easter treasury no. 28. R68722. LORENZ Publishing Company. SEE Children's Day treasury no. 33. R68712. The Choir herald. The Choir leader. Easter treasury no. 28. R68722. Der Kirchenchor. LORING, Emilie. SEE The trail of conflict. R65220. A LOST LADY, by Willa Sibert Cather. © 14Sep23, A711994. R70478, 24Nov50, Edith Lewis (E) & City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) A LOST LADY, by Willa Sibert Cather. (In the Century magazine) © Edith Lewis (E) & The City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) June 1923 issue. © 25May23, B577949. R67796, 28Sep50. <pb id='277.png' n='1950_h2/A/0093' /> THE LOST MR. LINTHWAITE, by J. S, Fletcher. © 2Jan23, A696111. R71271, 5Dec50, Rosemond Grant Fletcher (W) LOST WAGONS, by Dane Coolidge. © 17Jan23, A696162. R69271, 3Nov50, Roger Roberts (E) LOUISIANA REPORTS. V. 152, Oct. 1921-Oct. 1922. © 22Jun23, A752249. R64359, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) LOTI, Pierre, pseud. SEE Viaud, Julien. LOUDEN, Thomas. SEE The champion. R70243. LOVE, Clyde E. SEE Analytic geometry R70296. LOVE AND FATE, a drama in four acts by Francis R. Cole © 20Oct22, A687948. R64663, 24Jul50, Francis R. Cole (A) LOVE DAYS (SUSANNA MOORE'S) by Henrie Waste [pseud. of Ettis Stettheimer] © 15Aug23, A759411. R71050, 4Dec50, Ettie Stettheimer (A) LOVE IN THE DARK, a photoplay in six reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 23Nov22, L18437. R69933, 2Nov50, Loew's inc. (PWH) THE LOVE LEGEND, by Woodward Boyd [i.e. Peggy (Smith) Shane] © 6Oct22, A686169. R65665, 8Aug50, Mrs Woodward Boyd (A) LOVE STORY MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 11, no. 2, Apr. 28, 1923. © 26Apr23, B575465. R70184, 16Nov50. v, 11, nos. 3-6, v. 12, nos, 1-6, v. 13, nos. 1-5, May 5-Aug, 11, 1923 © 3May23, B575466; 10May23, B576487; 17May23, B576488; 24May23, B577563; 31May23, B577564; 7Jun23, B578382; 14Jun23, B578383; 21Jun23, B579453; 28Jun23, B579454; 5Jul23, B580282; 12Jul23, B581077; 19Jul23, B581016; 26Jul23, B581017; 2Aug23, B582194; 8Aug23, B583431. R65445-65459, 10Aug50. v.13, no. 6, Aug. 18, 1923. © 15Aug23, B583432. R70185, 16Nov50. v. 14, nos, 1-6, Aug. 25-Sept. 29, 1923. © 22Aug23, B583433; 30Aug23, B584449; 6Sep23, B584660; 13Sep23, B585375; 20Sep23, B585839; 27Sep23, B586440. R70186-70191, 16Nov50. v. 15, nos. 1-3, Oct. 6-20, 1923. © 4Oct23, B587017; 11Oct23, B587463; 18Oct23, B587859. R70192-70194, 16Nov50. THE LOVING ARE THE DARING, by Holman Day. © 21Sep23, A759105. R68959, 30Oct50, Dorothy Day Kilner (C) LOWELL, Amy. SEE Accolade. R67909. And so I think, Diogenes. R67412. Charleston, South Carolina. R67903. Chill. R67413. Cut shadow. R67910. Dissonance. R67414. Easel picture. R67415. Fact. R67416. Green shadows. R67911 Grievance. R67900. Lustre. R67908. Magnolia Gardens. R67904. The Middleton place. R67905. Nuit blanche. R67418. On reading a line underscored R67419 <pb id='278.png' /> Orientation. R67420. Portrait. R67901. Red knight. R67421. Rosebud wall paper. R67422. Song for a viola d'amore. R67902. A South Carolina forest. R67906. The vow. R67907. THE LOWER DEPTHS; a drama in four acts, by Maxim Gorky. Translated by Jennie Covan. Edited by Oliver M. Sayler. (The Moscow Art Theatre series of Russian plays, v. 2) © 1Dec22, A697386. R70755, 30Nov50, Coward-McCann, inc. (PWH) LUCAS, DeWitt B. SEE Handwriting and character. R68693. LUCATELLI, Luigi. SEE Teodora the sage. R67266. LUCE, Robert. SEE Legislative procedure. R64984. THE LUCK OF CLEM RIORDAN, by Kathleen Norris. (In Cosmopolitan) © Kathleen Norris (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, B589700. R70391, 20Nov50. THE LUCKY NUMBER; short stories, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] © 14Mar23, A698740. R71674, 13Dec50, John Hay Beith (A) LUDLUM, Mary H. SEE The magic sea shell and other plays for children. R69608. LUMMOX, by Fannie Hurst [Fannie Hurst Danielson; Mrs. J. S. Danielson] © 5Oct23, A760247. R69929, 10Nov50, Fannie Hurst Danielson (A) LUSTRE, by Amy Lowell. (In Independent) © Ada D. Russell (E) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B575411. R67908, 3Oct50. LUTZ, Harley L. SEE An introduction to economics. R70109. LYNDE, Francis. SEE Dick and Larry: freshmen. R65666. MCADAMS, William E. SEE Principles of chemical engineering. R68491. MACAULAY, Rose. SEE Mystery at Geneva. R67262. MCCALL Corporation. SEE Blue book magazine. McCall's magazine. Redbook magazine. MCCALL'S MAGAZINE. © McCall Corp. (PCW) v. 50, nos. 7-12, Apr.-Sept. 1923. © 10Mar23, B572103; 10Apr23, B574281; 10May23, B576564; 10Jun23, B578746; 10Jul23, B581073; 10Aug23, B583046. R66541-66546, 25Aug50. MACCOLL, Alexander. SEE The folly of preaching. R67701. MCCUTCHEON, George Barr. SEE Oliver October. R71371. Viola Gwyn. R64969. MCELROY, Robert. SEE Grover Cleveland; the man and the statesman. R70408. MCEVOY, Joseph Patrick. SEE The Potters. R64679. <pb id='279.png' /> MCFEE, William. SEE Blackerchief Dick, a tale of Morsea Island. R68147. Day in town. R64977. A letter in reply to a young gentleman R67535 The merchant marine and the young fellow. R67375. Seafaring In fiction. R68154. MACGRATH, Harold. SEE Captain Wardlaw's kitbags. R71927. MCGRAW, John Joseph. SEE My thirty years in baseball. R67276. McGUIRE, William Anthony. SEE Tin gods. R69222. MACHINE DESIGN DRAWING ROOM PROBLEMS, by C, D. Albert. © 18Oct23, A759526. R71862, 19Dec50, C. D. Albert (A) MACK, William. SEE Corpus juris. R64311. MCKENNA, Stephen. SEE The Commandment of Moses. R70383. MACKENZIE, Compton. SEE The seven ages of woman. R68240 MCKENZIE, Kenneth. SEE La vita nuova di Dante Alighieri R67734. MCKNIGHT, George H. SEE English words and their background. R72279. MCLAUGHLIN, Allan J. SEE The communicable diseases; how they spread and how they may be controlled. R68970. MACLEOD, Charles Stuart. SEE Tom Thumb. R72284 MACNAUGHTON, Edgar. SEE Elementary steam power engineering. R71859. MCNEILE, Herman Cyril. SEE The dinner club. R67207. An experiment in electricity. R72050. Lady Hounslow's charity. R67959. The madman at Corn Reef lighthouse. R64198. Mark Danver's sin. R64197. Molly's aunt at Angmering. R71924. The pool of the sacred crocodile. R69258. The seven missionaries. R66658. The third round. R66657. MADAME LA SOCIETAIRE, comédie en 3 actes par Pierre Maudru. © 28Jun23, D64912. R64194, 10Jul50, Pierre Maudru (A) MADELINE OF THE DESERT, by Arthur Weigall. © 9Oct20, (pub. abroad 19May20), A597777. R65756, 8Aug50, Arthur Weigall (A) MADEMOISELLE DE LA FERTE, roman, par Pierre Benoit. © 10Jul23, AF23195. R65752, 1Aug50, Pierre Benoit (A) THE MADMAN AT CORN REEF LIGHTHOUSE, by H. C. McNeile; illustrated by W. R S. Stott (In Pearson's magazine) American title; Mark Danver's sin, and The madman of Corn Reef lighthouse. © Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) Feb. 1923 Issue. © 10Jul23, (pub. abroad 1Feb23, AI-4957), A711170. R64198, 13Jul50. MAERKER-BRANDEN, Albrecht Paul. SEE Branden, Albrecht Paul Maerker-. <pb id='280.png' n='1950_h2/A/0094' /> THE MAGAZINE Antiques. SEE Antiques. MAGELLAN, THE FIRST CIRCUMNAVIGATOR OF THE WORLD, by Francis R. Cole. © 20Oct22, A687947. R65378, 9Aug50, Francis R. Cole (A) MAGGIE, a comedy drama in four acts by Don Mullally. © 5Apr23, D64150. R64008, 12Jun50, April Productions, inc. (PWH) THE MAGIC MIDLAND, by Harold Waldo. © 5Oct23, A760682. R68151, 11Oct50, Harold Waldo (A) MAGIC plus fours. R67000. SEE Plus fours. THE MAGIC SEA SHELL AND OTHER PLAYS FOR CHILDREN, by John Farrar. Illustrated by Mary M. Ludlum. © 2Nov23, A760797. R69608, 6Nov50, John Farrar (A) MAGNOLIA, a play in three acts by Booth Tarkington. © 3Nov23, D65938. R70040, 10Nov50, Susanah K. Tarkington (W) MAGNOLIA GARDENS, by Amy Lowell. (In Poetry) © Ada D. Russell (E) Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B552553. R67904, 3Oct50. MAIRE, Eveline le. SEE Le Maire, Eveline. MAISON Blanche Company. SEE Maison Blanche devil's food candy. R68701. MAISON BLANCHE DEVIL'S FOOD CANDY. © 1Nov22, Label 25543. R68701, 23Oct50, Maison Blanche Co. (P) LA MAISON DU MYSTÈRE; MORTEL SECRET, par Jules Mary. (Cinéma bibliothèque 57) © 20Apr23, AF22601. R64184, 10Jul50, Jean Charrier (C), Mme Thérese Comberousse, née Mary (C) et Mme Geneviève Charrier, née Mary (C) MAJOR BRONQUARD OF THE ARMY, by Lloyd Osbourne. (In Everybody's magazine) © Samuel Osbourne (C) Jan. 1914 issue. © 23Dec13, B295077. R72005, 22Dec50. MAKING CHRISTMAS LAST A YEAR, by Gene Stratton-Porter. (In McCall's) © Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, A717030. R70381, 20Nov50. THE MAKING OF INDEX NUMBERS, a study of their varieties, tests, and reliability, by Irving Fisher. © 12Dec22, A692526. R67914, 5Oct50, Irving N. Fisher (E) MAKING UP A SHOW, by Roi Cooper Megrue. © 30Nov23, D66171. R71138, 6Dec50, Peter Cooper Hitt (NK) MAMA'S BOY, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 28Mar23, D64065. R68463, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) THE MALAYS ARE AFTER US, by Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169288. R67341, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) MAN AND THE UNIVERSE, by Oliver Lodge. © on new prefatory note; 12Mar20, A565236. R70137, 10Nov50, Oliver W. F. Lodge (C) THE MAN HIMSELF, by Rollin Lynde Hartt. © 21Sep23, A759397. R67705, 27Sep50, John F. Hartt (C) <pb id='281.png' /> THE MAN IN THE PASSAGE, by Gilbert K. Chesterton. (In McClure's magazine) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Apr. 1913 issue. © 15Mar13, B265186. R71659, 13Dec50. THE MAN WHO WON, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 23Aug23, L19334. R68433, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY, by Edward Everett Hale. Introd. and notes by Russell A. Sharp. (Riverside literature series no. 141) © 3Apr23, A705161. R71801, 18Dec50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) MANNERS, John Hartley. SEE The girl in waiting. R65391. The national anthem. R65935. MANOLITA LA INCLUSERA, zarzuela en 1 acto por Francisco Alonso. Parte de apuntar. © 14Oct22, D26367. R64476, 18Jul50, Julia de la Joya Redondo (W) MANOUSSI, Jean. SEE La ventouse. R71091. MAN'S desire for independence. SEE Independence; rectorial address at St. Andrews, Oct. 10, 1923. R70384. MANSFIELD, Katherine. SEE Bliss and other stories. R71279. The dove's nest and other stories. R71281. MANTLE, Robert Burns. SEE The best plays of 1921-1922. R65122. MANUAL FOR N. C. R. SALESMEN, by The National Cash Register Company. © 17Nov23, A764412. R70607, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) MANUAL OF COMMERCIAL LAW, by Edward W. Spencer. 3d ed. © on revision; 9Nov22, A690140. R67953, 25Sep50, Catherine Colley (C) & Mildred Griebel (C) A MANUAL OF SERVICE FOR THE PRIMARY DEPARTMENT, by Bartia Copeland Hogan and John Bert Graham. © 11Sep23, A752968. R67873, 25Sep50, Bartia Copeland Hogan (A) & John Bert Graham (A) MANUEL, Roland. SEE Isabelle et Pantalon. R69896. MANUSCRIPT COVER, lithographed on back, lady vignette, black border. (302) © 19Apr23, K174399. R69961, 13Nov50, Goes Lithographing Co. (PCW) THE MANUSCRIPT OF YOUTH, by Diana Patrick [pseud. of Desemea Newman Wilson] © 5Jun23, (pub. abroad 10Jan23, AI-4850), A704839. R70600, 24Nov50, Desemea Wilson (A) MANY MARRIAGES, by Sherwood Anderson. © 20Feb23, A704156. R64024, 10Jul50, Eleanor Copenhaver Anderson (W) MARCH HARES (the temperamentalists), by Harry Wagstaff Gribble. © 20Jun23, A711004. R64653, 21Jul50, Harry Wagstaff Gribble (A) MARGE, a new play by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. © 27Oct23, D65870. R69233, 2Nov50, Catherine C. Cushing (A) MARJORIE'S BEST YEAR, by Angela Brazil; illustrated by Treyer Evans. © 9Feb23, A698270. R68241, 13Oct50, Amy Brazil (NK) <pb id='282.png' /> MARK DANVER'S SIN, by H. C. McNeile; illustrated by E. G. Oakdale. (In the Strand magazine) American title: Mark Danver's sin, and The madman of Corn Reef lighthouse. © Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) Feb. 1923 issue. © 10Jul23, (pub. abroad 25Jan23, AI-4935), A711170. R64197, 13Jul50. MARK Twain Company. SEE The adventures of Huckleberry Finn. R70404. Europe and elsewhere. R66667. Life on the Mississippi. R66534. Mark Twain's speeches. R66389. MARK TWAIN'S SPEECHES, a posthumous compilation; with an introd. by Albert Bigelow Paine and an appreciation by William Dean Howells. Albert Bigelow Paine, editor. © 23May23, A704931. R66389, 29Aug50, The Mark Twain Co. (PWH) THE MARKENMORE MYSTERY, by J. S. Fletcher. © 7Sep23, A760107. R71944, 5Dec50, Rosemond Grant Fletcher (W) MARKET MILK, by Ernest Kelly and Clarence E. Clement. © 19Jan23, A696139. R71095, 30Nov50, Ernest Kelly (A) & Clarence E. Clement (A) MARKETING POULTRY PRODUCTS, by Earl W. Benjamin. (Poultry science series) © 11Dec23, A766334. R71866, 19Dec50, Earl W. Benjamin (A) MARQUIS, Don. SEE Archy and the old 'un. R65132. Archy insists. R65643. The lady will be serious. R66529. The lantern. R64203 ... A plea for disarmament. R66789. LA MARRAINE DE L'ESCOUADE, Operette en trois actes. Paroles de André Mouezy-Eon et C. Daveillans; musique de Henri Moreau-Febvre. Chant et piano. © 28Feb18, D19859. R71887, 20Dec50, M. Mouezy-Eon (A) and (E of Henri Moreau-Febvre) THE MARRIAGE MAKER, a photoplay in seven reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 26Sep23, L19454. R69375, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) MARSH, Samuel. SEE Check it. R66901. MARSHALL, Archibald. SEE The Clinton twins and other stories. R66921. Pippin. R66918. MARSHALL, Edison. SEE The death bell. R67537. MARTEL de Janville, Sibylle Gabrielle Marie Antoinette (de Riquetti de Mirabeau) comtesse de. SEE Mon ami Pierrot; conte bleu. R68400. Souricette. R68405. MARTIN, Ernest G. SEE Physiology. R66323. MARTIN, Percy A. SEE The republics of Latin America. R66664. MARTINEZ, Josefa Jura. SEE Correct English. R67299 ... MART'S WIFE, by Kathleen Norris. (In Cosmopolitan) © Kathleen Norris (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, B587589. R68186, 12Oct50. <pb id='283.png' n='1950_h2/A/0095' /> MARVELOUS PONY EXPRESS RIDERS' RECORD, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Aug. 19, 1923 issue. © 19Aug23, A713442. R68084, 6Oct50. MARY, Jules. SEE La maison du mystère; mortel secret. R64184. MARY LEE, by Geoffrey Dennis. © 11Aug22, A683129. R63974, 3Jul50, Geoffrey Dennis (A) MASSON, Alfred Edward Woodley. SEE The winding stair. R66650 ... MASSON, Rosaline. SEE I can remember Robert Louis Stevenson. R71282. The life of Robert Louis Stevenson. R71292. MASSON, Thomas Lansing. SEE Tom Masson's annual for 1923. R69260. THE MASTER, by Konrad Bercovici. (In the Century magazine) © Konrad Bercovici (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 25Jul23, B582018. R64976, 26Jul50. THE MASTER BREED, by Francis Dickie. © 22Jun23, A711043. R64492, 18Jul50, Francis Dickie (A) THE MASTER OF BALLANTRAE [AND] THE GREAT NORTH ROAD, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 14) © on editorial work; 16Oct22, A690001. R65674, 8Aug50, Alan Osbourne (NK) THE MASTER OF THE INN, a play by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. Suggested by the book of the same title by Robert Herrick. © 27Oct23, D65869. R69232, 2Nov50, Catherine C. Cushing (A) MASTRO-DON GESUALDO, by Giovanni Verga. Translated from the Italian by D. H. Lawrence. © 13Oct23, A759504. R69076, 17Oct50, Frieda Lawrence (W) MATHEMATICAL THEORY OF FINANCE, by T. M. Putnam. © 2Jun23, A704968. R71099, 30Nov50, Murray Putnam (C) MATHEWS, Basil Joseph. SEE Christian fellowship in thought and prayer. R72045. MATHIEWS, Franklin K. SEE The boys' book of verse. R68202. MATTHEWS, Brander. SEE Europe and elsewhere. R66667. Poems of American patriotism. R65668. The tocsin of revolt. R63985. MATTHIAS, Virginia Park. SEE The first of May. R71151. MATTOS, Alexander Louis Teixeira de. SEE Teixeira de Mattos, Alexander Louis. MAUDRU, Pierre. SEE Madame la societaire. R64194. MAUGHAM, William Somerset. SEE The force of circumstances. R72200. German Harry. R71791. Home and beauty. R71792. The imposters. R68187. Mayhew. R70392. The unattainable. R71793. <pb id='284.png' /> MAUPASSANT, Guy de. SEE Bel ami. R71949. Miss Harriet and other stories. R71948. The sisters Rondoli and other stories. R71947. That pig Morin and other stories. R71275. A woman's life. R71276. MAURIAC, Francois. SEE Le fleuve de feu. R65744. MAUROIS, André. SEE Ariel. R65745. Les discours du Docteur O'Grady. R64181. MAXWELL, William Babington. SEE For better, for worse. R65981. Glamour. R65980. MAYHEW, by W. Somerset Maugham. (In Cosmopolitan) © W. Somerset Maugham (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, B589700. R70392, 20Nov50. MECHANICAL ENGINEERS' HANDBOOK, by William Kent; rewritten by Robert Thurston Kent, ed. 10th ed. © 6Jul23, A752179. R72257, 27Dec50, Passaic-Clifton National Bank & Trust Co., trustee of estate of William Kent (PWH) MECHANICS, the science of machinery, by A. Russell Bond. (The Popular science library, v. 5) © 15Dec22, A692482. R66315, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) MEDICINE, the science of health, by Wilfred M. Barton. (The Popular science library, v. 10) © 15Dec22, A692485. R66317, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) MEDITATIONS IN TIME OF CIVIL WAR, by William Butler Yeats. (In the Dial) © Bertha Georgie Yeats (W) Jan. 1923 issue. © 5Jan23, B568950. R70299, 24Nov50. MEGRUE, Roi Cooper. SEE Making up a show. R71138. MELDAU, Fred J. SEE The miracle man and the wonder book. R70081. MELODRAMA, by Rita Weiman. (In Harper's bazaar) © Rita Weiman (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 25Jul23, B581522. R71358, 11Dec50. MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN; THE MERRY MEN AND OTHER TALES, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 11) © on editorial work; 15Sep22, A683367. R65368, 8Aug50, Alan Osbourne (NK) MEMORIES AND PORTRAITS; RANDOM MEMORIES; RECORDS OF A FAMILY OF ENGINEERS, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 12) © on editorial work; 15Sep22, A683368. R65367, 8Aug50, Alan Osbourne (NK) MENCKEN, Henry Louis. SEE The American language. R71048. MENEFEE, F. N. SEE Structural members and connections. R67310. THE MEN'S HOUSE; Masonic papers and addresses, by Joseph Fort Newton. © 2Nov23, A766120. R69610, 6Nov50, Mrs. Joseph Fort Newton (W) <pb id='285.png' /> THE MERCHANT MARINE, by William S. Benson. © 8May23, A705339. R71182, 8Dec50, Knights of Columbus (PWH) THE MERCHANT MARINE AND THE YOUNG FELLOW, by William McFee. (In Atlantic monthly) © William McFee (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 17Sep23, B585846. R67375, 20Sep50. MERRIAM (G. and C.) Company. SEE Webster's new international dictionary of the English language. R66345. MERRY-GO-ROUND, by Georges Lewys. From the Austrian; unexpunged and complete ed. © 10Sep23, A760049. R67805, 2Oct50, Georges Lewys (A) THE MERRY men and other tales. R65368. SEE Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin. THE MERRY outlaw of Sherwood Forest. SEE Robin Hood. R71154. MERY, Jules. SEE La passion. R70837. MESSAGER, André Charles Prosper. SEE L'amour masque. R69897. METCALFE, Evelyn Dunn Scott. SEE Scott, Evelyn. METEOROLOGY, the science of the atmosphere, by Charles F. Talman. (The Popular science library, v. 1) © 15Dec22, A692478. R66311, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) METROPOLITAN Museum of Art. SEE New York (City) Metropolitan Museum of Art. MI MARIDO SE ABURRE, juguete comico en 3 actos y en prosa de Antonio Paso, Miguel Mihura Alvarez, y Ricardo González del Toro. © 30Sep22, D63303. R65636, 11Aug50, Jeronimo Mihura Santos (C of M. Mihura Alvarez) MIALL, Bernard. SEE The life of the scorpion. R65124. MICHELET AND HIS IDEAS ON SOCIAL REFORM, by Anne R. Pugh. © 1Jun23, A752672. R72048, 28Dec50, Ada Pugh Stevens (NK) MIDDLETON, Ellis. SEE Road of destiny. R71286. MIDDLETON, George. SEE The advocate. R69548. The happy hour. R69550. The other rose. R69551. She finds her place. R69549. THE MIDDLETON PLACE, by Amy Lowell. (In Poetry) © Ada D. Russell (E) Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B552553. R67905, 3Oct50. THE MIDLANDER, by Booth Tarkington. © 19Dec23, A766528. R71925, 21Dec50, Susanah K. Tarkington (W) THE MIDLANDER, by Booth Tarkington. (In Ladies' home journal) © Susanah K. Tarkington (W) Oct. 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, B586597. R67971, 6Oct50. Nov. 1923 issue. © 31Oct23, B588935. R69480, 3Nov50. Dec. 1923 issue. © 30Nov23, B603311. R71267, 1Dec50. MIDWINTER, by John Buchan. [Full name: John Buchan, baron Tweedsmuir] © 29Aug23, A711721. R69680, 9Nov50, Susan Caroline Lady Tweedsmuir (W) <pb id='286.png' n='1950_h2/A/0096' /> MIGHTY MIKKO. A book of Finnish fairy tales and folk tales, by Parker Fillmore; with illus. and decorations by Jay Van Everen. © 19Oct22, A683814. R68008, 6Oct50, Louise Fillmore (W) MIHURA ALVAREZ, Miguel. SEE Mi Marido se aburre. R65636. Un señor de Grao. R65637. MILE-A-MINUTE ROMEO, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Nov23, L19651. R71022, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) MILL ON THE FLOSS. (Oranges) © 21Jul23, Label 26578. R70736, 1Dec50, James Mills Orchards Co. (P) MILLER, Joaquin. SEE The poetical works of Joaquin Miller. R64015. MILLER, Juanita Joaquina. SEE The poetical works of Joaquin Miller. R64015. MILLER, Leo E. SEE The black phantom. R63981. MILLER, Warren Hastings. SEE The boy explorers and the ape man of Sumatra. R69930. MILLER, William J. SEE Geology. R66313. MILLIN, Sarah Gertrude. SEE The dark river. R72046. The Jordans. R71177. MILLS, Enos Abijab. SEE Life zones. R71045. Tramping and camping. R65984. MILLS (James) Orchards Company. SEE Mill on the Floss. R70736. Mt. Lassen. R70734. Windmill. R70735. MILN, Louise (Jordan) SEE Mr. and Mrs. Sen. R68238. MILNE, Alan Alexander. SEE Success. R64180. MILTON, John. SEE Selection from the prose and poetry of John Milton. R71797. A MIND THAT FOUND ITSELF, an autobiography, by Clifford Whittingham Beers. Rev. ed. © on p. 225-411; 20Jul23, A752276. R65129, 24Jul50, Clara Louise Beers (W) THE MINE WITH THE IRON DOOR, a romance, by Harold Bell Wright. © 20Jul23, A711306. R65289, 7Aug50, Gilbert M. Wright (C) & Norman H. Wright (C) MINERAL TABLES; for the determination of minerals by their physical properties, by Arthur S. Eakle. 2d ed., rev. © 4Sep23, A752844. R72258, 27Dec50, Alice Eakle Reed (C) MINERVA, a comedy in 3 acts by David Thorne. © 6Jul23, D64955. R64037, 12Jul50, David Thorne (A) MINEVITCH, Borrah. SEE How to play the harmonica at night. R71381. THE MINISTER AND HIS GREEK NEW TESTAMENT, by A. T. Robertson. © 14Sep23, A752931. R69483, 6Nov50, Citizens Fidelity Bank & Truat Co. (E) A MIRACLE AND A MARVEL, by Gene Stratton Porter. (In Good housekeeping) © Jeanette Porter Meehan (C) Jan. 1924 issue. © 20Dec23, B604874. R72203, 22Dec50. <pb id='287.png' /> THE MIRACLE MAN AND THE WONDER BOOK, by Fred J. Meldau. © 30Jun23, A752491. R70081, 15Nov50, F. J. Meldau (A) MIRACLES OF CANDIDACY 4-5; Chronicle of reality 1-10 inclusive, by George Edwin Burnell. v. 3, June 23, 1922. © 11Dec22, A696003. R67131, 14Sep50, Genevieve Burnell Forgey (C) MIRANDE, Yves. SEE Là-haut. R69899. THE MISADVENTURES of John Nicholson. R65673. SEE The black arrow. MISS BRACEGIRDLE AND OTHERS, by Stacy Aumonier. © 19Oct23, (pub. abroad 18May23, AI-5131), A759663. R68780, 23Oct50, Gertrude Aumonier (W) MISS HARRIET AND OTHER STORIES, by Guy de Maupassant; translated by Ernest Boyd. (The collected novels and stories of Guy de Maupassant, v. 6) © 19Oct23, A760579. R71948, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) MISSION Provision Company. SEE Pilgrim. R64661. MISSISSIPPI HYDRATED LIME. © 14Sep23, Print 7388. R69504, 8Nov50, Mississippi Lime Co., successor by change of name to Mississippi Lime & Material Co. (P) MISSISSIPPI Lime Company. SEE Mississippi hydrated lime. R69504. MISSISSIPPI Lime and Material Company. SEE Mississippi Lime Company. MISSOURI DECISIONS REPORTED IN THE SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER ANNOTATED. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 244-246, Nov. 1922-Feb. 1923. © 14May23, A752251. R64360, 10Jul50. v. 247-249, Mar.-May 1923. © 30Aug23, A760949. R68290, 13Oct50. MR. AND MRS. SEN, by Louise Jordan Miln. © 15Mar23, A696834. R68238, 13Oct50, Mrs. Dagmar Green (C) MR. Salteena's plan. R65983. SEE The young visitors. MRS. EDDY AS I KNEW HER IN 1870, by Samuel Putnam Bancroft. Contents.--pt. 1. Mrs. Eddy's letters.--pt. 2. Mrs. Eddy's manuscripts. © 8May23, A705386. R64561, 19Jul50, Longyear Foundation (PWH) MITCHELL, Ruth Comfort. SEE Corduroy. R72283. MITCHELL, Sydney B. SEE Gardening in California. R68149. MITCHELL, Wesley C. SEE Income in the United States ... R70132. MODERN AND CONTEMPORARY EUROPEAN HISTORY, 1815-1923; by J. Salwyn Schapiro. Rev. ed. © on new matter; 26Apr23, A711194. R71802, 18Dec50, J. Salwyn Schapiro (A) A MODERN COLLEGE AND A MODERN SCHOOL, by Abraham Flexner. © 5Oct23, A759665. R68146, 11Oct50, Abraham Flexner (A) MODERN FIRST YEAR ALGEBRA, by Webster Wells and Walter W. Hart. © 2Feb23, A698166. R67301, 20Sep50, Katharine M. Day (NK of Webster Wells), Elizabeth W. Bolster (NK of Webster Wells) & Walter W. Hart (A) <pb id='288.png' /> MODERN HIGH SCHOOL ALGEBRA, by Webster Wells and Walter W. Hart. © 30Mar23, A705220. R67303, 20Sep50, Katharine M. Day (NK of Webster Wells), Elizabeth W. Bolster (NK of Webster Wells) & Walter W. Hart (A) MODERN HISTORY, by Carlton J. H. Hayes and Parker Thomas Moon. © 20Feb23, A698378. R70298, 24Nov50, Carlton J. H. Hayes (A) & Alice Moon (C) MODERN STATIONERY MONOGRAMS [STYLE CHART] by John M. Bergling. Plate 7. © 2Jan23, A699074. R65713, 16Aug50, Virginia C. Bergling (C) MOELLER, Philip. SEE The adding machine. R64199. MOLLY'S AUNT AT ANGMERING, by H. C. McNeile. Pub. abroad in Pearson's magazine, with author given as "Sapper" [pseud.] and illus. by W. R. S. Stott. © 19Dec23, (pub. abroad 2Jul23, AI-5315), A765392. R71924, 21Dec50, Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) MON AMI PIERROT; CONTE BLEU. Par Gyp. [pseud. de la Comtesse de Martel de Janville] © 27Apr21, AF18161. R68400, 13Oct50, la Comtesse d'Hugues (née Nicole de Martel de Janville) (C) MONAGHAN, James. SEE Monaghan's cumulative annual digest of Pennsylvania decisions, 1922. R64313. MONAGHAN'S CUMULATIVE ANNUAL DIGEST OF PENNSYLVANIA DECISIONS, by James Monaghan. © James Monaghan (A) v. 25, nos. 2-3, June-Aug. 1923. © 6Jul23, B580699; 15Sep23, B585827. R68317-68318, 13Oct50. 1922 [volume] © James Monaghan (PWH) © 12May23, A704581. R64313, 10Jul50. THE MONKEY FARM, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 14Sep23, L19476. R68451, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) A MONKEY MIXUP, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 11Nov23, L19577. R71017, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) MONKS A LA MODE, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 7Nov23, L19578. R71018, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) MONNA VANNA, a photoplay in nine reels by Fox Film Corp. © 15Aug23, L19348. R68436, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) MONROE, Anne Shannon. SEE The music under the noise. R67376. When love dictates. R72204. MONTHERLANT, Henry de. SEE Le songe. R65741. MONTROSS, Lois Seyster. SEE Town and gown. R70031. MONTROSS, Lynn. SEE Town and gown. R70031. MONUMENTO DO YPIRANGA: BANCO DO BRASIL, by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1877) © 20Jul23, K177406. R64698, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) MOON, Parker Thomas. SEE Modern history. R70298. MOORE, Anne Carroll. SEE New roads to childhood. R70595. <pb id='289.png' n='1950_h2/A/0097' /> MORE HONORABLE MAN, by Arthur Somers Roche. © 31Oct22, A686604. R65886, 18Aug50, Ethel P. Roche (W) MORE JATAKA TALES, by Ellen C. Babbitt. Retold, with illus. by Ellsworth Young. School ed. © 30Oct22, A692535. R68916, 27Oct50, Alice Weld Tallant (E) MORE JUNGLE TALES. Adventures in India, by H. A. Musser; drawings by Morgan Stinemetz. © 28Sep23, A760184. R67968, 6Oct50, H. A. Musser (A) MORE SERMONS ON BIBLICAL CHARACTERS, by Clovis G. Chappell. © 16Nov23, A766112. R71670, 14Dec50, Clovis G. Chappell (A) MORE SHORT MISSIONARY PLAYS, by Margaret T. Applegarth. © 29Aug23, A759155. R66673, 31Aug50, Margaret T. Applegarth (A) MORE TO BE PITIED THAN SCORNED, a photoplay in six reels by C. B. C. Film Sales Corp. © 15Aug22, L18237. R65309, 8Aug50, Columbia Pictures Corp. (PWH) MOREAU-Febvre, Henri. SEE La marraine de l'escouade. R71887. MOREUX, Théophile. SEE La science mystérieuse des Pharaons. R64187. MORGAN, Angela. SEE Because of beauty. R66917. MORGAN, Bayard Quincy. SEE The heretic of Soana. R69490. MORIARTY, William Daniel. SEE The economics of marketing and advertising. R66249. MORLEY, Christopher Darlington. SEE Bedroom suite. R71687. Conrad and the reporters. R71681 ... The haunted bookshop. R67210. Inward ho! R68983. Outward bound. R71686. Parson's pleasure. R71291. The powder of sympathy. R68982. MORRIS, John. SEE Silent salesman. R69979. MORRIS, Joseph, pseud. SEE Bachelor, Joseph Morris. MORROW, Honoré (McCue) Willsie. SEE Judith of the godless valley. R66008. MOSCOW ART THEATRE SERIES OF RUSSIAN PLAYS; English translation by Jennie Covan. © 6Jan23, A698242. R70757, 20Nov50, Coward-McCann, inc. (PWH) MOSS, Geoffrey McNeill. SEE Sweet pepper. R70599. MOTHER IS WAITING, by Angelo Patri. (In Redbook magazine) © Angelo Patri (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, B586437. R67536, 26Sep50. MOTHER NATURE, a study of animal life and death, by William J. Long; illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. © 20Jun23, A705936. R66246, 27Jul50, William J. Long (A) A MOTHER'S LETTERS TO A SCHOOLMASTER. Published anonymously [i.e. Rita (Scherman) Berman] with introd. by James Harvey Robinson. © 23Apr23, A704454. R67872, 2Oct50, Rita Berman (A) <pb id='290.png' /> MOTOR. © Hearst Magazines inc. (PCW) v. 39, nos. 2-6, Jan.-May 1923. © 4Jan23, B567356; 5Feb23, B569733; 6Mar23, B571791; 28Mar23, B573561; 27Apr23, B575715. R71410-71414, 5Dec50. v. 40, nos. 1-6, June-Nov. 1923. © 28May23, B577908; 2Jul23, B580344; 31Jul23, B582492; 1Sep23, B584835; 28Sep23, B587041; 27Oct23, B589800. R71415-71420, 5Dec50. v. 41 no. 1, Dec. 1923. © 1Dec23, B603392. R71421, 5Dec50. MOTOR BOATING. © Hearst Magazines, inc. (PCW) v. 30, no. 4. Oct. 1922. © 6Oct22, B549162. R64503, 17Jul50. v. 30, no. 5, Nov. 1922. © 6Nov22, B551135. R65997, 16Aug50. v. 30, no. 6, Dec. 1922. © 5Dec22, B553440. R67245, 18Sep50. v. 31, no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 23Dec22, B554493. R68509, 16Oct50. v. 31, no. 2, Feb. 1923. © 27Jan23, B568912. R70150, 17Nov50. v. 31, no. 3, Mar. 1923. © 28Feb23, B571395. R71796, 18Dec50. MOUEZY-EON, André. SEE La marraine de l'escouade. R71887. MT. LASSEN. (Pears) © 21Jul23, Label 26576. R70734, 1Dec50, James Mills Orchards Co. (P) MOVIE FANS, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 14Oct23, L19536. R69381, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) MOVIE MAD, a farce comedy in one act, by Margaret Echard. © 28Mar23, D64158. R68466, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) MOYER, James A. SEE Elements of engineering thermodynamics. R71863. MULFORD, Clarence Edward. SEE Hopalong Cassidy returns. R71661 ... Rustler's valley. R67009 ... MULLALLY Don. SEE Maggie. R64008. MUMBO JUMBO, by Henry Clews, jr. © 14Apr23, A705041. R67275, 18Sep50, Henry Clews, jr. (A) MUMFORD, Lewis. SEE The story of Utopias. R64556. MUNROE, Kirk. SEE The flamingo feather. R70403. MUNSEY'S MAGAZINE. © Popular Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 77 nos. 3-4, Dec. 1922-Jan. 1923. © 20Nov22, B552039; 20Dec22, B554260. R69204-69205, 1Nov50. v. 78. nos. 1-4, Feb.-May 1923. © 20Jan23, B568849; 20Feb23, B570419; 20Mar23, B572635; 20Apr23, B575122. R69206-69209, 1Nov50. v. 79, nos. 1-4, June-Sept. 1923. © 20May23, B577304; 20Jun23, B579429; 20Jul23, B581652; 20Aug23, B583569. R69210-69213, 1Nov50. v. 80 nos. 1-2, Oct.-Nov. 1923. © 20Sep23, B585901; 20Oct23, B588087. R69214-69215, 1Nov50. MURDER, a play in 1 act, by Jack Sheridan and Clarence Budington Kelland. © 24May23, D64593. R64005, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) <pb id='291.png' /> MURDO, by Konrad Bercovici. © 22Mar23, A704017. R67270, 18Sep50, Konrad Bercovici (A) THE MUSIC UNDER THE NOISE, by Anne Shannon Monroe. (In Good housekeeping) © Elizabeth Monroe Story (NK) Oct. 1923 issue. © 19Sep23, B586102. R67376, 21Sep50. MUSSER, Howard Anderson. SEE More jungle tales. Adventures in India. R67968. MY CHILDREN AND THE TWENTIETH CENTURY, reflections of a mother, by the Book House for Children. © 2Sep22, A685060. R65891, 21Aug50, The Book House for Children (PWH) MY ESKIMO FRIENDS: Nanook of the north, by Robert J. Flaherty in collaboration with Frances J. Hubbard Flaherty. (In World's work) © Robert J. Flaherty (A) Feb. 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B569213. R69263, 27Oct50. Mar. 1923 issue. © 26Feb23, B571978. R69264, 27Oct50. MY GARDEN OF MEMORY, an autobiography, by Kate Douglas Wiggin. © 11Oct23, A760464. R69684, 9Nov50, Helen K. Bradbury (NK) MY MAID ON THE BAMBOO SCREEN, a Chinese fantasy. Books and lyrics by Grace Delaney Goldenburg, music by William Smith Goldenburg. Vocal score with full dialogue. © 30Apr23, D26444. R65082, 27Jul50, Mrs. Grace Delaney Goldenburg (A) MY MAID ON THE BAMBOO SCREEN, a Chinese fantasy in three scenes, by Grace Delaney Goldenburg and William Smith Goldenburg. Stage manager's guide. © 28Jul23, A755162. R65865, 10Aug50, Grace Delaney Goldenburg (A) & (W) MY MUSICAL LIFE, by Nikolay Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakoff; translated from the rev. 2d Russian ed. by Judah A. Joffe; edited with an introd. by Carl van Vechten. © 19Oct23, A759951. R71941, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) MY THIRTY YEARS IN BASEBALL, by John J. McGraw; with an introd. by George M. Cohan. © 11May23, A705626. R67276, 18Sep50, John J. McGraw (A) THE MYSTERIOUS INN, a play by Harry E. Humphrey. © 20Dec22, D63274. R68711, 23Oct50, Harry E. Humphrey (A) THE MYSTERIOUS OFFICE, by Jennette Lee. © 10Nov22, A686953. R68250, 13Oct50, Jennette Lee (A) MYSTERY AT GENEVA, by Rose Macaulay. © 25Jan23, A698177. R67262, 18Sep50, Rose Macaulay (A) THE MYSTERY OF RAMAPO PASS, a story of the American Revolution, by Everett T. Tomlinson. © 13Oct22, A683707. R67239, 18Sep50, Everett T. Tomlinson, jr. (E) & Paul G. Tomlinson (E) N. C. R. CASH AND CREDIT STATEMENT BOOK NO. 30, by The National Cash Register Company. New ed. © on text matter; 1Mar23, A701336. R70602, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) N. C. R. CASH AND CREDIT STATEMENT BOOK NO. 31, by The National Cash Register Company. © on text matter; 19Feb23, A699928. R70601, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) <pb id='292.png' n='1950_h2/A/0098' /> N. C. R. CASH AND CREDIT STATEMENT BOOK NO. 47, by The National Cash Register Company. (5204) © on reading matter; 25Jun23, A705958. R70604, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) N. C. R. STATEMENT BOOK NO. 35, by the National Cash Register Company. (5571) © on text matter; 11May23, A708045. R70605, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) NACHA REGULES, by Manuel Galvez; translated by Leo Ongley. © 16Feb23, A752034. R72052, 28Dec50, E. P. Dutton & Co., inc. (PWH) NANCEY, Marcel. SEE La ventouse. R71091. NANCY STAIR, a play by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. Dramatization of the book of the same name by Elinor MacCartney Lane. © 27Oct23, D65867. R69231, 2Nov50, Catherine C. Cushing (A) NANOOK of the north. SEE My Eskimo friends; Nanook of the north. R69263 ... A NARROW SQUEAK, a comedy in one act by Lilian Bennet-Thompson and George Hubbard. © 20Sep22, D61994. R67121, 14Sep50, George Hubbard (A) NATHAN, George Jean. SEE The world in falseface. R71046. NATIONAL Acme Company. SEE Gridley, for metal working and machine tools. R70726. THE NATIONAL ANTHEM, a drama, by J. Hartley Manners. © 22Nov22, A692781. R65935, 8Aug50, Central Hanover Bank & Trust Co. (E) NATIONAL Board of the Young Women's Christian Association of the U. S. A. SEE Young Women's Christian Associations. U. S. National Board. NATIONAL Bureau of Economic Research, inc. SEE Income in the United States ... R70132. NATIONAL Cash Register Company. SEE Better retailing. R70603. Manual for N. C. R. salesmen. R70607. N. C. R. cash and credit statement book no. 30. R70602. N. C. R. cash and credit statement book no. 31. R70601. N. C. R. cash and credit statement book no. 47. R70604. N. C. R. statement book no. 35. R70605. Selling helps for N. C. R. salesmen. R70606. THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE. © National Geographic Society (PCW) v. 43, nos. 5-6, v. 44, no. 1, May-July 1923. © 16Apr23, B547744; 12May23, B576879; 11Jun23, B576768. R63967-63969, 30Jun50. v. 44, nos. 2-3, Aug.-Sept. 1923. © 12Jul23, B580995; 15Aug23, B583330. R66050-66051, 16Aug50. v. 44, nos. 4-6, Oct.-Dec. 1923. © 22Sep23, B586110; 15Oct23, B587734; 19Nov23, B590515. R71817-71819, 18Dec50. v. 45, no. 1, Jan. 1924. © 15Dec23, B604451. R71820, 18Dec50. NATIONAL Geographic Society. SEE The Capital of our country. R71815. The horses of the world. R71816. The National geographic magazine. Peasant home in Corsica. R71821. <pb id='293.png' /> THE NATIVITY OF THE INFANT JESUS, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169953. R66977, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) NATURAL CAUSES, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] (In American magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) Oct. 1912 issue. © 24Sep12, B258653. R71424, 11Dec50. NEBRASKA, THE END OF THE FIRST CYCLE, by Willa Sibert Cather. (In the Nation) © Edith Lewis (E) & The City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E) Sept. 5, 1923 issue. © 30Aug23, B584950. R67797, 28Sep50. NEPVEU, André Robert Gustave. SEE Durtain, Luo. THE NET, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 8Oct23, L19555. R71014, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) NEVER SAY DIE, a farce in three acts by William H. Post. © 6Dec23, D66229. R71596, 15Dec50, J. J. Shubert (PWH) NEW JERSEY CORPORATION LAW, by Jay B. R. Smith. 2d ed. © 11Sep23, A752911. R68265, 13Oct50, Soney & Sage Co. (PWH) A NEW Jim Maitland adventure. R66658. SEE The seven missionaries. NEW ROADS TO CHILDHOOD, by Anne Carroll Moore. © 23Nov23, A766110. R70595, 27Nov50, Anne Carroll Moore (A) NEW TRIALS AND APPEALS; or, THE RULES OF PRACTICE, by Edwin Baylies. Arthur F. Curtis, editor. 3d ed. © 22Mar23, A696885. R64827, 26Jul50, Matthew Bender & Co., inc. (PWH) NEW YORK (City) Metropolitan Museum of Art. SEE The craft of Athenian pottery. R65277. NEW YORK DIGEST; all New York cases reported from April 19, 1920 to Feb. 21, 1921. © 8Jul21, A622940. R38753, 6Oct48, West Publishing Co. (PWH) NEW YORK DIGEST; all New York cases reported from Apr. 19, 1920 to Oct. 2, 1922; [covering] New York supplement v. 181 to 195. © 25Apr23, A752268. R64361, 10Jul50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) NEW YORK HERALD. © New York Herald Tribune, inc. (PCW) v. 86, no. 336-v. 87, no. 1, Aug. 1-31, 1922. © 1Aug22, 2Aug22, 3Aug22, 4Aug22, 5Aug22, 6Aug22, 7Aug22, 8Aug22, 9Aug22, 10Aug22, 11Aug22, 12Aug22, 13Aug22, 14Aug22, 15Aug22, 16Aug22, 17Aug22, 18Aug22, 19Aug22, 20Aug22, 21Aug22, 22Aug22, 23Aug22, 24Aug22, 25Aug22, 26Aug22, 27Aug22, 28Aug22, 29Aug22, 30Aug22, 31Aug22, B541697-541727. R65000-65030, 28Jul50. v. 87, nos. 2-31, Sept. 1-30, 1922. © 1Sep22, 2Sep22, 3Sep22, 4Sep22, 5Sep22, 6Sep22, 7Sep22, 8Sep22, 9Sep22, 10Sep22, 11Sep22, 12Sep22, 13Sep22, 14Sep22, 15Sep22, 16Sep22, 17Sep22, 18Sep22, 19Sep22, 20Sep22, 21Sep22, 22Sep22, 23Sep22, 24Sep22, 25Sep22, 26Sep22, 27Sep22, 28Sep22, 29Sep22, 30Sep22, B541728-541757. R66585-66614, 28Aug50. v. 87, nos. 32-62, Oct. 1-31, 1922. © 1Oct22, 2Oct22, 3Oct22, 4Oct22, 5Oct22, 6Oct22, 7Oct22, 8Oct22, 9Oct22, 10Oct22, 11Oct22, 12Oct22, <pb id='294.png' /> 13Oct22, 14Oct22, 15Oct22, 16Oct22, 17Oct22, 18Oct22, 19Oct22, 20Oct22, 21Oct22, 22Oct22, 23Oct22, 24Oct22, 25Oct22, 26Oct22, 27Oct22, 28Oct22, 29Oct22, 30Oct22, 31Oct22, B541758-541788. R67430-67460, 25Sep50. v. 87, nos. 63-92, Nov. 1-30, 1922. © 1Nov22, 2Nov22, 3Nov22, 4Nov22, 5Nov22, 6Nov22, 7Nov22, 8Nov22, 9Nov22, 10Nov22, 11Nov22, 12Nov22, 13Nov22, 14Nov22, 15Nov22, 16Nov22, 17Nov22, 18Nov22, 19Nov22, 20Nov22, 21Nov22, 22Nov22, 23Nov22, 24Nov22, 25Nov22, 26Nov22, 27Nov22, 28Nov22, 29Nov22, 30Nov22, B541789-541818. R68826-68855, 26Oct50. v. 87, nos. 93-123, Dec. 1-31, 1922. © 1Dec22, 2Dec22, 3Dec22, 4Dec22, 5Dec22, 6Dec22, 7Dec22, 8Dec22, 9Dec22, 10Dec22, 11Dec22, 12Dec22, 13Dec22, 14Dec22, 15Dec22, 16Dec22, 17Dec22, 18Dec22, 19Dec22, 20Dec22, 21Dec22, 22Dec22, 23Dec22, 24Dec22, 25Dec22, 26Dec22, 27Dec22, 28Dec22, 29Dec22, 30Dec22, 31Dec22, B541819-541849. R70513-70543, 27Nov50. v. 87, nos. 124-154, Jan. 1-31, 1923. © 1Jan23, 2Jan23, 3Jan23, 4Jan23, 5Jan23, 6Jan23, 7Jan23, 8Jan23, 9Jan23, 10Jan23, 11Jan23, 12Jan23, 13Jan23, 14Jan23, 15Jan23, 16Jan23, 17Jan23, 18Jan23, 19Jan23, 20Jan23, 21Jan23, 22Jan23, 23Jan23, 24Jan23, 25Jan23, 26Jan23, 27Jan23, 28Jan23, 29Jan23, 30Jan23, 31Jan23, B561696-561726. R72065-72095, 27Dec50. NEW York Herald Tribune, inc. SEE New York herald. New York tribune. NEW YORK LAW OF WILLS, by Berkeley Reynolds Davids. v. 1. © 17May23, A814778. R64318, 10Jul50, Edward Thompson Co. (PWH) NEW YORK SUPPLEMENT. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 198, nos. 5-9. Apr. 2-30, 1923. © 2Apr23, B574112; 9Apr23, B574727; 16Apr23, B575455; 23Apr23, B575831; 30Apr23, B576299. R64362-64366, 10Jul50. v. 199, nos. 1-8, May 7-June 25, 1923. © 7May23, B576784; 14May23, B577210; 21May23, B577724; 28May23, B577974; 4Jun23, B578749; 11Jun23, B579222; 18Jun23, B579684; 25Jun23, B580226. R64367-64374, 10Jul50. v. 199, no. 9, July 2, 1923. © 2Jul23, B580733. R68319, 13Oct50. v. 200, nos. 1-9, July 9-Sept. 17, 1923. © 9Jul23, B581083; 17Jul23, B581681; 23Jul23, B582186; 30Jul23, B582689; 21Aug23, B584036; 28Aug23, B584512; 1Sep23, B585280; 10Sep23, B585616; 17Sep23, B586162. R68320-68328, 13Oct50. v. 201, no. 1, Sept. 24, 1923. © 25Sep23, B586684. R68329, 13Oct50. NEW YORK SUPPLEMENT. Permanent ed. (National reporter system) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 197. Jan. 8-Feb. 26, 1923. © 7Apr23, A752256. R64375, 10Jul50. v. 198, Mar. 5-Apr. 30, 1923. © 11Jun23, A752257. R64376, 10Jul50. v. 199, May 7-July 2, 1923. © 5Sep23, A760936. R68277, 13Oct50. THE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW. © The New York Times Co. (PCW) v. 72, nos. 23640, 23647, 23654, Oct. 15, 22, 29, 1922. © 15Oct22, B554979; 22Oct22, B554980; 29Oct22, B554981. R66849-66851, 5Sep50. v. 72, nos. 23689, 23696, 23703, 23710, 23717, Dec. 3, 10, 17, 24, 31, 1922. © 3Dec22, B567099; 10Dec22, B567100; 17Dec22, B567101; 24Dec22, B567102; 31Dec22, B567103. R69336-69340, 3Nov50. <pb id='295.png' n='1950_h2/A/0099' /> v. 72, nos. 23724, 23731, 23738, 23745. Jan. 7, 14, 21, 28, 1923. © 7Jan23, B567522; 14Jan23, B568079; 21Jan23, B568606; 28Jan23, B569013. R70457-70460, 22Nov50. THE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW AND MAGAZINE. © The New York Times Co. (PCW) v. 71, nos. 23570, 23577, 23584, 23591, Aug. 6, 13, 20, 27, 1922. © 6Aug22, B554971; 13Aug22, B554972; 20Aug22, B554973; 27Aug22, B554974. R64238-64241, 6Jul50. v. 71, nos. 23598, 23605, 23612, 23619, Sept. 3, 10, 17, 24, 1922. © 3Sep22, B554975; 10Sep22, B554976; 17Sep22, B554977; 24Sep22, B567097. R64582-64585, 20Jul50. v. 72. nos. 23626, 23633, Oct. 1, 8, 1922. © 10Oct22, B567098; 8Oct22, B554978. R66847-66848, 5Sep50. Section 3. v. 72, nos. 23661, 23668, 23675, 23682, Nov. 5, 12, 19, 26, 1922. © 5Nov22, B554982; 12Nov22, B554983; 19Nov22, B554984; 26Nov22, B554985. R68026-68029, 6Oct50. Section 4. v. 72, nos. 23661, 23668, 23675, 23682, Nov. 5, 12, 19, 26, 1922. © 5Nov22, B554988; 12Nov22, B554989; 19Nov22, B554990; 26Nov22, B554991. R68030-68033, 6Oct50. NEW York Times Company. SEE The New York times book review. The New York times book review and magazine. The New York times index. The New York times magazine. THE NEW YORK TIMES INDEX. © The New York Times Co. (PWH) v. 11, no. 2., Apr.-May-June, 1923. © 27Jul23, A752285. R65062, 28Jul50. v. 11, no. 3, July-Aug.-Sept. 1923. © 1Nov23, A759740. R69335, 3Nov50. THE NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE. © The New York Times Co. (PCW) v. 72, nos. 23640, 23647, 23654, Oct. 15, 22, 29, 1922. © 15Oct22, B554986; 22Oct22, B554987; 29Oct22, B567104. R66852-66854, 5Sep50. v. 72, nos. 23689, 23696, 23703, 23710, 23717, Dec. 3, 10, 17, 24, 31, 1922. © 3Dec22, B567105; 10Dec22, B567106; 17Dec22, B567107; 24Dec22, B567108; 31Dec22, B567109. R69341-69345, 3Nov50. v. 72, nos. 23724, 23731, 23738, 23745, Jan. 7, 14, 21, 28, 1923. © 7Jan23, B567599; 14Jan23, B568080; 21Jan23, B568607; 28Jan23, B569079. R70461-70464, 22Nov50. NEW YORK TRIBUNE. © New York Herald Tribune, inc. (PCW) v. 82, no. 27652-27682, Aug. 1-31, 1922. © 1Aug22, 2Aug22, 3Aug22, 4Aug22, 5Aug22, 6Aug22, 7Aug22, 8Aug22, 9Aug22, 10Aug22, 11Aug22, 12Aug22, 13Aug22, 14Aug22, 15Aug22, 16Aug22, 17Aug22, 18Aug22, 19Aug22, 20Aug22, 21Aug22, 22Aug22, 23Aug22, 24Aug22, 25Aug22, 26Aug22, 27Aug22, 28Aug22, 29Aug22, 30Aug22, 31Aug22, B542062-542092. R65031-65061, 28Jul50. v. 82, nos. 27683-27712, Sept. 1-30, 1922. © 1Sep22, 2Sep22, 3Sep22, 4Sep22, 5Sep22, 6Sep22, 7Sep22, 8Sep22, 9Sep22, 10Sep22, 11Sep22, 12Sep22, 13Sep22, 14Sep22, 15Sep22, 16Sep22, 17Sep22, 18Sep22, 19Sep22, 20Sep22, 21Sep22, 22Sep22, 23Sep22, 24Sep22, 25Sep22, 26Sep22, 27Sep22, 28Sep22, 29Sep22, 30Sep22, B542093-542122. R66615-66644, 28Aug50. <pb id='296.png' /> v. 82, nos. 27713-27743, Oct. 1-31, 1922. © 1Oct22, 2Oct22, 3Oct22, 4Oct22, 5Oct22, 6Oct22, 7Oct22, 8Oct22, 9Oct22, 10Oct22, 11Oct22, 12Oct22, 13Oct22, 14Oct22, 15Oct22, 16Oct22, 17Oct22, 18Oct22, 19Oct22, 20Oct22, 21Oct22, 22Oct22, 23Oct22, 24Oct22, 25Oct22, 26Oct22, 27Oct22, 28Oct22, 29Oct22, 30Oct22, 31Oct22, B542123-542153. R67461-67491, 25Sep50. v. 82, nos. 27744-27773, Nov. 1-30, 1922. © 1Nov22, 2Nov22, 3Nov22, 4Nov22, 5Nov22, 6Nov22, 7Nov22, 8Nov22, 9Nov22, 10Nov22, 11Nov22, 12Nov22, 13Nov22, 14Nov22, 15Nov22, 16Nov22, 17Nov22, 18Nov22, 19Nov22, 20Nov22, 21Nov22, 22Nov22, 23Nov22, 24Nov22, 25Nov22, 26Nov22, 27Nov22, 28Nov22, 29Nov22, 30Nov22, B542154-542183. R68856-68885, 26Oct50. v. 82, nos. 27774-27804, Dec. 1-31, 1922. © 1Dec22, 2Dec22, 3Dec22, 4Dec22, 5Dec22, 6Dec22, 7Dec22, 8Dec22, 9Dec22, 10Dec22, 11Dec22, 12Dec22, 13Dec22, 14Dec22, 15Dec22, 16Dec22, 17Dec22, 18Dec22, 19Dec22, 20Dec22, 21Dec22, 22Dec22, 23Dec22, 24Dec22, 25Dec22, 26Dec22, 27Dec22, 28Dec22, 29Dec22, 30Dec22, 31Dec22, B542184-542214. R70544-70574, 27Nov50. v. 82, nos. 27805-27835, Jan. 1-31, 1923. © 1Jan23, 2Jan23, 3Jan23, 4Jan23, 5Jan23, 6Jan23, 7Jan23, 8Jan23, 9Jan23, 10Jan23, 11Jan23, 12Jan23, 13Jan23, 14Jan23, 15Jan23, 16Jan23, 17Jan23, 18Jan23, 19Jan23, 20Jan23, 21Jan23, 22Jan23, 23Jan23, 24Jan23, 25Jan23, 26Jan23, 27Jan23, 28Jan23, 29Jan23, 30Jan23, 31Jan23, B562061-562091. R72096-72126, 27Dec50. THE NEWCOMER IN PENNY LANE, by Joslyn Gray; illustrated by E. C. Coswell. (The Penny Lane books) © 25Aug22, A681563. R63977, 29Jun50, Joslyn Gray (A) NEWELL, Marquis J. SEE High school algebra complete. R70108. A second course in algebra. R70107. NEWTON, Joseph Fort. SEE The man's house. R69610. NICHOLSON, Meredith. SEE Broken barriers. R63980. THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. Drawings by Grace G. Drayton. © 23Oct23, K179870. R70377, 22Nov50, The Boston Music Co. (PWH) EL NIÑO DE LA SUERTE, melodrama en 1 acto por maestro Tomás Barrera. Canto y piano. © 10Mar23, D26429. R64477, 18Jul50, Cecilia Chico Muñoz (W) THE NINTH VIBRATION, and other stories, by L. Adams Beck [i. e. Lily (Moresby) Adams Beck; full name Eliza Louisa Moresby Beck] © 13May22, A674174. R67696, 26Sep50, Harry Drake Hodgkinson (E) & James Francis Adams Beck (E) NIVEN, Frederick. SEE The wolfer. R67843. NO MOTHER TO GUIDE HER, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Dec23, L19734. R71786, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) NO WEDDING BELLS, a photoplay in two reels by the Vitagraph Company of America. © 25Jan23, L18635. R72138, 21Dec50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) <pb id='297.png' /> NO WEDDING BELLS FOR HIM, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 10Sep23, B585108. R67007, 13Sep50. NOAILLES, Anne, comtesse de. SEE Noailles, Anne Elisabeth (de Brancovan) comtesse de. NOAILLES, Anne Elisabeth (de Brancovan) comtesse de. SEE Les innocentes. R65747. NOBLE, W. Clark. SEE Head of Christ in bas relief. R72044. NOBODY MUCH, a comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64975. R68468, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) NOEL, Joseph. SEE Whispering sage. R65211. NORRIS, Kathleen (Thompson) SEE Butterfly. R67704. Keeping Ellen out of it. R67006. The Kelly kid. R64202. The luck of Clem Riordan. R70391. Mart's wife. R68186. Rose of the world. R68897. That night: the Vanderventer mansion. R65646. Uneducating Mary. R71928. NORRIS, inc. SEE Della Robbia mints. R70103. NORTH OF HUDSON BAY, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 10Sep23, L19470. R68448, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) NORTHEASTERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 138, nos. 4-10, Apr. 3-May 15, 1923. © 2Apr23, B574113; 10Apr23, B574728; 17Apr23, B575456; 23Apr23, B575832; 1May23, B576300; 8May23, B576785; 15May23, B577211. R64377-64383, 10Jul50. v. 139, nos. 1-6, May 22-June 26, 1923. © 22May23, B577725; 28May23, B578453; 6Jun23, B578750; 11Jun23, B579223; 19Jun23, B579685; 25Jun23, B580227. R64384-64389, 10Jul50. v. 139, nos. 7-10, July 3-24, 1923. © 2Jul23, B580734; 10Jul23, B581084; 19Jul23, B581682; 24Jul23, B582187. R68330-68333, 13Oct50. v. 140, nos. 1-7, July 31-Sept. 25, 1923. © 30Jul23, B582690; 21Aug23, B584037; 28Aug23, B584513; 4Sep23, B585281; 10Sep23, B585617; 17Sep23, B586163; 25Sep23, B586685. R68334-68340, 13Oct50. NORTHEASTERN REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 137, Dec. 12, 1922-Mar. 6, 1923. © 23Apr23, A752274. R64390, 10Jul50. v. 138, Mar. 13-May 15, 1923. © 12Jul23, A760935. R68276, 13Oct50. NORTHERN NEIGHBORS; stories of the Labrador people, by Wilfred Thomason Grenfell. © 24Aug23, A711645. R69679, 9Nov50, Rosamond Grenfell Shaw (C), K. Pascoe Grenfell (C) & Wilfred T. Grenfell (C) NORTHWESTERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 192, nos. 3-7, Apr. 6-May 4, 1923. © 5Apr23, B574729; 12Apr23, B575590; 19Apr23, B575457, 26Apr23, B575833; 4May23, B576301. R64391-64395, 10Jul50. <pb id='298.png' n='1950_h2/A/0100' /> v. 193, nos. 1-8, May 11-Jun 29, 1923. © 10May23, B577212; 17May23, B577726; 24May23, B577975; 31May23, B578454; 7Jun23, B578751; 14Jun23, B579224; 21Jun23, B579686; 28Jun23, B580228. R64396-64403, 10Jul50. v. 193, no. 9, July 6, 1923. © 5Jul23, B580735. R68341, 13Oct50. v. 194, nos. 1-10, July 13-Sept. 28, 1923. © 12Jul23, B581085; 20Jul23, B581683; 26Jul23, B582188; 2Aug23, B582691; 22Aug23, B584038; 30Aug23, B584514; 7Sep23, B585282; 13Sep23, B585618; 19Sep23, B586164; 27Sep23, B586686. R68342-68351, 13Oct50. NORTHWESTERN REPORTER. Five-volume digest. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 186-190. © 4May23, A752270. R64353, 10Jul50. NORTHWESTERN REPORTER, Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 191, Jan. 26-Mar. 16, 1923. © 26Apr23, A752258. R64404, 10Jul50. v. 192, Mar. 23-May 4, 1923. © 23Jun23, A752259. R64405, 10Jul50. v. 193, May 11-July 6, 1923. © 11Sep23, A760927. R68268, 13Oct50. NOTORIOUS CHARACTERS OF THE PONY EXPRESS, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Aug. 5, 1923 issue. © 5Aug23, A713223. R68082, 6Oct50. THE NOTORIOUS POLLY MANSFELDT, by Lloyd Osbourne. (In Cavalier) © Samuel Osbourne (C) Mar. 16, 1912 issue. © 14Mar12, B277114. R71996, 22Dec50. Mar. 23, 1912 issue. © 21Mar12, B277115. R71997, 22Dec50. Mar. 30, 1912 issue. © 28Mar12, B277116. R71998, 22Dec50. Apr. 6, 1912 issue. © 4Apr12, B277117. R71999, 22Dec50. Apr. 13, 1912 issue. © 11Apr12, B277118. R72000, 22Dec50. Apr. 20, 1912 issue. © 18Apr12, B277119. R72001, 22Dec50. LE NOUVEAU DELUGE, roman par Noelle Roger. 5 installments. (In Petite illustration) © Noelle Roger (A) Aug. 19-Sept. 16, 1922 issues. © 19Aug22-16Sep22, AF21032. R71055, 29Nov50. UN NOUVEL honneur. R66913. SEE La peine des hommes. NOUVELLES LETTRES INTIMES, par Ernest Ronan et Henriette Ronan. © 19Jun23, AF22886. R68408, 13Oct50, Henriette Paichari (née Henriette Paichari) (NK) & Corrie Siohan (née Corrie Paichari) (NK) NOVEMBER JOE, DETECTIVE OF THE WOODS, by Hesketh Vernon Hesketh-Prichard. © 13Sep13, A351685. R72014, 26Dec50, Elizabeth Motion (W) NOW and then. SEE Light wines and beer. R65270, R65271. NUIT BLANCHE, by Amy Lowell. (In Double dealer) © Ada D. Russell (E) Feb. 1923 issue. © 15Feb23, B571854. R67418, 20Sep50. LA NUIT PATHÉTIQUE, par René Jouglet. Nouvelle inédite. (In Les Oeuvres libres) © René Jouglet (A) June 1923 issue. © 1Jun23, AF23064. R64190, 10Jul50. <pb id='299.png' /> THE NURSES. A contribution from the rector. SEE Nurses. R69257. NURSES, by Rudyard Kipling. (His Land and sea tales for boys and girls) Pub. abroad in College echoes as "The nurses. A contribution from the rector." © 26Oct23, (pub. abroad 10Oct23, AI-5499), A760863. R69257, 27Oct50, Elsie Bambridge (C) NUTT, Lily Clive. SEE Sinners in heaven. R67146. OCEAN AIR, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] (In Metropolitan magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) Nov. 1922 issue. © 12Oct22, B549334. R71428, 11Dec50. O'CONNELL, William Henry, cardinal. SEE The Passion of Our Lord. R68921. O'DONOVAN, Gerald. SEE The holy tree. R67264. OF CLEAR INTENT, by Henry C. Rowland. © 14Sep23, A752990. R68954, 30Oct50, Diana Rowland Proddow (C) & Henry C. Rowland, jr. (C) OH DOCTOR, by Harry Leon Wilson; with illus. by Henry Raleigh. © 25Sep23, A759135. R69975, 15Nov50, Harry Leon Wilson, jr. (C) & Charis Wilson Weston (C) OH HENRY! A farce comedy in one act with prologue by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64976. R68469, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) O'HIGGINS, Harvey Jerrold. SEE Wrong number. R69223. OKLAHOMA DIGEST ANNOTATED, by Daniel W. Crockett and staff. v. 4-5. © 15May23, A705932; 30Jun23, A760095. R64314-64315, 10Jul50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co. (PWH) OKLAHOMA THREE-IN-ONE SERVICE, prepared by Daniel W. Crockett and staff. 1922 annual v., in 3 pts. © 23May23, A705931. R64316, 10Jul50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co. (PWH) OLCOTT, Charles S. SEE The writings of Lafcadio Hearn. v. 1-2. R69670 ... OLCOTT, Frances Jenkins. SEE Good stories for great birthdays. R67417. OLD BILL HARDEN AND THE DAYS OF FORTY-NINE, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) June 10, 1923 issue. © 10Jun23, A670992. R68075, 6Oct50. THE OLD DRAMA AND THE NEW, an essay in re-valuation, by William Archer. © 27Feb23, A696644. R66919, 8Sep50, Frank Archer (E) THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER unravels the mystery of the khaki tunic, by Baroness Orczy. Pub. abroad in the London magazine, Aug. 1923 issue, with illus. by Seymour Lewis. © 19Dec23, (pub. abroad 13Jul23, AI-5343), A765391. R71923, 21Dec50, John Montague Orczy-Barstow (C) THE OLD SCARECROW, by Baroness Orczy [i. e. Emmuska Orczy] (In the Story teller) © John Montague Orczy-Barstow (C) May 1916 issue. © 29May16 (pub. abroad 8Apr16, AI-2648), A431309. R70133, 10Nov50. <pb id='300.png' /> OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY, by Frank Knight Sanders. (Life and religion series) © 20Oct22, A686427. R65670, 8Aug50, Ethel B. Sanders (W) OLIVER, Bertha (Ruck) SEE Ruck, Bertha. OLIVER, George. SEE Onions, Oliver, pseud. OLIVER OCTOBER, by George Barr McCutcheon. © 25Aug23, A711695. R71371, 8Dec50, John T. McCutcheon (NK) & Jessie McCutcheon Nelson (NK) O'MEARA, T. R. SEE The vine and the branches. R70079. ON READING A LINE UNDERSCORED, by Amy Lowell. (In Literary review. New York evening post) © Ada D. Russell (E) Oct. 7, 1922 issue. © 7Oct22, B541406. R67419, 20Sep50. ON THE MARGIN, notes and essays, by Aldous Huxley. © 22Jun23, A711050. R65144, 26Jul50, Aldous Huxley (A) ON THE RUN [a novel] by Francis J. Finn. © 1Sep22, A692154. R66220, 24Aug50, Daniel H. Conway (E) ONCE IN A BLUE MOON, a musical romance in three acts. Story by Gordon Ibbottson, music by Noble Cain. Edited by Alfred G. Wathal. Full vocal score. © 20Apr23, D26442. R70292, 22Nov50, Noble Cain (A) ONE-ACT PLAYS FOR SECONDARY SCHOOLS, selected and edited by Hanson Hart Webster and James Plaisted Webber. © 13Apr23, A705159. R71800, 18Dec50, Edith Smith Webster (W), Elizabeth E. Webber (C) & Harry C. Webber (C) ONE EXCITING NIGHT, a photoplay in eleven reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 14Dec22, L18507. R66778, 21Aug50, Lloyd Wright (E of D. W. Griffith, PWH) ONE EXCITING NIGHT, a photoplay in eleven reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 14Aug22, L18507. R66779, 21Aug50, Barbara Griffith (PWH), Lynn Griffith (PWH), Willard Griffith (PWH) ONE EXCITING NIGHT, a photoplay in eleven reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 14Dec22, L18507. R66780, 21Aug50, Mary Bruce Duncan (PWH), Marie Duncan (PWH), Myrtil Seaman Griffith (PWH) ONE EXCITING NIGHT, a photoplay in eleven reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 14Dec22, L18507. R66781, 21Aug50, Mary Ann Butler (PWH), Marguerite Butler (PWH) ONE EXCITING NIGHT, a photoplay in eleven reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 14Dec22, L18507. R66782, 21Aug50, Ruth Griffith (PWH), Geraldine Griffith Reichard (PWH) ONE OF THE GUILTY, by W. L. George. © 20Oct23, A760571. R68968, 30Oct50, Coutts & Co. (E) ONE of those Sunday mornings. SEE Junk. R67120. ONE STOLEN NIGHT, a photoplay in five reels by the Vitagraph Company of America. © 18Jan23, L18597. R72137, 21Dec50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PCB) O'NEILL, Eugene Gladstone. SEE Welded. R68588. <pb id='301.png' n='1950_h2/A/0101' /> ONGLEY, Leo. SEE Nacha Regules. R72052. ONIONS, Oliver, pseud. SEE A case in camera. R71874. The tower of oblivion. R71875. ONLY A SHOP GIRL, a photoplay in seven reels by C.B.C. Film Sales Corp. © 12Dec22, L18504. R71009, 5Dec50, Columbia Pictures Corp. (PWH) ONLY THE ENGINEER, by Lloyd Osbourne. (In McClure's magazine) © Samuel Osbourne (C) Nov. 1915 issue. © 16Oct15, B341982. R72003, 22Dec50. ONLY THIRTY EIGHT, a comedy in three acts by A. E. Thomas. Suggested by a short story by Walter Prichard Eaton. (French's standard library edition) © 6Dec22, D63031. R70244, 10Nov50, Mrs. A. E, Thomas (W) ONLY THIRTY EIGHT, a photoplay in 7 reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 19Jun23, L19125. R64134, 3Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) THE OPEN DOOR DOCTRINE IN RELATION TO CHINA by Mingchien Joshua Bau. © 10Jul23, A752089. R71183, 8Dec50, Knights of Columbus (PWH) OPERA GUYED, by Newman Levy; pictures by Rea Irvin. © 7Sep23, A760102. R71051, 4Dec50, Newman Levy (A) OPPENHEIM, James. SEE The golden bird. R70265. Your hidden powers. R70266. THE ORACLE OF THE DOG, by Gilbert K. Chesterton. (In Hearst's international) © Oliver Chesterton (NK) Dec. 1923 issue. © 20Nov23, B590199. R71376, 11Dec50. THE ORANGE DIVAN, by Valentine Williams. © 17Aug23, A752588. R69681, 9Nov50, Alice Williams (W) ORCZY, Emmuska, baroness. SEE The old man in the corner unravels the mystery of the khaki tunic. R71923. The old scarecrow. R70133. The traitor. R71035. Two good patriots. R71036. ORDER OF THE NATIONAL ARBITRATION ASSOCIATION, by L. Frank Price. © 20Nov23, A773266. R71978, 15Dec50, L. Frank Price (A) ORGANIC SYNTHESES, edited by Hans Thacher Clarke. v. 3. © 17Nov23, A765246. R71865, 19Dec50, Roger Adams (PWH) ORIENTATION, by Amy Lowell. (In Dial) © Ada D. Russell (E) Oct. 1922. © 25Sep22, B548530. R67420, 20Sep50. THE ORIGINAL VACUUM PACK. (Coffee) © 13Apr23, Print 6774. R70346, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE ORIGINAL VACUUM PACK keeps its fine flavor fresh for you. (Coffee) © 24Apr23, Print 6778. R70350, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) OSBOURNE, Lloyd. SEE Acid test. R71995. The black arrow. R65673. Catriona. R63979. The ebb-tide ... R71087. In the South Seas. R68252. Hushed up. R72004. Kidnapped. R63978. <pb id='302.png' /> Major Bronquard of the army. R72005. The master of Ballantrae. R65674. Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin ... R65368. Memories and portraits ... R65367. The notorious Polly Mansfeldt R71996 ... Only the engineer. R72003. Sergeant Dicks. R72002. The wrecker. R71088. The wrong box ... R68251. THE OTHER ROSE, a comedy in three acts by George Middleton, from the French of Edouard Bourdet. © 8Nov23, D65981. R69551, 9Nov50, George Middleton (A) OUR AMERICAN ADVENTURE, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 27Apr23, A704419. R65933, 15Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) OUR LITTLE GIRL, by Robert A. Simon. © 8Mar23, A698601. R67267, 18Sep50, Robert A. Simon (A) THE OUTLINE OF SCIENCE, by Alexander Weinstein. (In the New York freeman) © Alexander Weinstein (A) Sept. 27, 1922 issue. © 20Sep22, B548400. R65279, 27Jul50. THE OUTSIDER, a play in three acts by Dorothy Brandon. © 5Oct23, D65758. R69227, 2Nov50, Dorothy Brandon (A) OUTWARD BOUND, by Christopher Morley. (In New York evening post) © Christopher Morley (A) Aug. 13, 1923 issue. © 13Aug23, B561570. R71686, 14Dec50. OVER THE FOOTLIGHTS, by Stephen Leacock. © 21Jul23, A711332. R66922, 8Sep50, George Leacock (C) OVER THE RIM OF THE RIDGE, by Hugh Pendexter. (In Adventure magazine) © Helen F. Pendexter (W) Part 1; Sept. 20, 1922 issue. © 19Aug22, A645566. R64668, 24Jul50. Part 2; Sept. 30, 1922 issue. © 30Aug22, A646339. R64669, 24Jul50. Part 3; Oct. 10, 1922 issue. © 10Sep22, A646425. R64670, 24Jul50. Part 4; Oct. 20, 1922 issue. © 20Sep22, A646967. R64671, 24Jul50. THE OVERCOAT AND OTHER STORIES, by Nikolay Gogol; translated by Constance Garnett. (The collected works of Nikolay Gogol) © 26Oct23, A760581. R71950, 5Dec50, David Garnett (C) OWEN, Mrs. George. SEE Eggleston, Margaret (White) OWEN, Margaret Eggleston. SEE Eggleston, Margaret (White) PACH, Walter. SEE Renaissance art. R68961. PACIFIC REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 213, nos. 1-5, Apr. 9-May 7, 1923. © 9Apr23, B574730; 16Apr23, B575458; 21Apr23, B575459; 28Apr23, B576302; 7May23, B576786. R64406-64410, 10Jul50. v. 214, nos. 1-6. May 14-June 18, 1923. © 14May23, B577213; 21May23, B577727; 26May23, B577976; 2Jun23, B578455; 9Jun23, B579225; 16Jun23, B579687. R64411-64416, 10Jul50. v. 215, nos. 1-2, June 25-July 2, <pb id='303.png' /> 1923. © 23Jun23, B580229; 30Jun23, B580736. R64417-64418, 10Jul50. v. 215, nos. 3-6, July 9-30, 1923. © 9Jul23, B581086; 16Jul23, B581684; 23Jul23, B582189; 30Jul23, B582692. R68352-68355, 13Oct50. v. 216, nos. 1-4. Aug. 20-Sept. 10, 1923. © 4Aug23, B584039; 28Aug23, B584515; 1Sep23, B585283, 10Sep23, B585619. R68356-68359, 13Oct50. v. 217, nos. 1-3, Sept. 17-Oct. 1, 1923. © 17Sep23, B586165; 24Sep23, B586687; 29Sep23, B587113. R68360-68362, 13Oct50. PACIFIC REPORTER. Digest. (National reporter system digests, Pacific series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 16 (digest of v. 196-210) © 18Jun23, A752269. R64337, 10Jul50. PACIFIC REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 211, Jan. 29-Feb. 19, 1923. © 2Apr23, A752263. R64419, 10Jul50. v. 212, Feb. 26-Apr. 2, 1923. © 22May23, A752264. R64420, 10Jul50. v. 213, Apr. 9-May 7, 1923. © 27Jun23, A752265. R64421, 10Jul50. v. 214, May 14-June 18, 1923. © 24Aug23, A760939. R68280, 13Oct50. v. 215, June 25-July 30, 1923. © 26Sep23, A760929. R68270, 13Oct50. PADEREWSKI, the artist, by Malvina Hoffman. [Model of mask with eyes looking down] © 8Jun23, G68643. R64080, 6Jul50, Malvina Hoffman (A) PADEREWSKI, the statesman, by Malvina Hoffman. [Model of bust with wings folded over each shoulder] © 8Jun23, G68644. R64081, 6Jul50, Malvina Hoffman (A) PAGE, Thomas Nelson. SEE Dante and his influence. R65671. Washington and its romance. R69244. PAGE, Walter Hines. SEE A publisher's confession. R67963. PAINE, Albert Bigelow. SEE Europe and elsewhere. R66667. Mark Twain's speeches. R66389. A PAL FOR YOUR PALATE. (Ice cream) Date of publication 8Sep21, Date of registration in Patent Office 14Nov22, Label 6415. R65946, 9Aug50, The Borden Co. (P) PALACIO DA LIBERDADE: BANCO DO BRASIL, by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1875) © 9Jul23, K177409. R64701, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) PAMPHLET SUPPLEMENT. U. S. compiled statutes. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 1, no. 1, July, 1923. © 20Jul23, A777082. R68291, 13Oct50. PANDORA'S box. R67277. SEE Tragedies of sex. PAO, Ming-ch'ien. SEE The open door doctrine in relation to China. R71183. PAPA'S WILD, a Western farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64974. R68467, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) PAPE, Frank C. SEE The high place. R70041. PAPPENHEIM, Marie. SEE Erwartung. R69990. <pb id='304.png' n='1950_h2/A/0102' /> THE PARADISE OF THIEVES, by Gilbert K. Chesterton. (In McClure's magazine) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Mar. 1913 issue. © 15Feb13, B263696. R71658, 13Dec50. PARAMOUNT Pictures Corporation. SEE Are waitresses safe? R69373. Bluebeard's eighth wife. R64136. The cheat. R69370. Children of Jazz. R64680. Friend husband. R69374. A gentleman of leisure. R64682. The heart raider. R64133. His smothered love. R69382. Hollywood. R64681. Homeward bound. R69369. The marriage maker. R69375. Movie fans. R69381. Only thirty eight. R64134. Room 23. R69378. Roping her romeo. R69376. Ruggles of Red Gap. R69372. The silent partner. R69371. The Spanish dancer. R69379. Two tough tenderfeet. R69380. Woman proof. R69383. The woman with four faces. R64135. Zara. R69377. PARIS IMPRESSION, by Hazel Collister Hutchison. (In Poetry) © Hazel Collister Hutchison (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 27Oct23, B589014. R69486, 6Nov50. PARK, Charles Francis. SEE The sawdust girl. R70231. PARLIAMENTARY LAW, by Henry M. Robert. © 29Jan23, A696211. R72280, 28Dec50, Isabel H. Robert (W) PARODI Cigar Company of New York. SEE Kentucky Chimney cigars. R70104. PARSON'S PLEASURE, by Christopher Morley. © 16Nov23, A766113. R71291, 6Dec50, Christopher Morley (A) PARTED CURTAINS, a photoplay in six reels by Warner Bros. © 26Sep22, L18257. R65218, 3Aug50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (A) THE PARTY BATTLES OF THE JACKSON PERIOD, by Claude G. Bowers. © 17Nov22, A692052. R64990, 31Jul50, Claude G. Bowers (A) PASO, Antonio. SEE Mi Marido se aburre. R65636. PASSAIC-CLIFTON National Bank and Trust Company. SEE Mechanical engineers' handbook. R72257. PASSING SHOW OF 1923, by Harold Atteridge. © 11Aug23, D65236. R65882, 18Aug50, Winter Garden Co. (PWH) LA PASSION, drama lyrique en 4 actes et 10 tableaux. Poeme de Jules Méry et Paul de Choudens, musique de Albert Dupuis. Partition chant et piano. © 14Dec22, D26401. R70837, 29Nov50, Albert Dupuis (A) THE PASSION OF OUR LORD, by Gaetano cardinal de Lai. Translated from the Italian by William H. O'Connell. © 6Mar23, A698750. R68921, 30Oct50, Jeremiah J. Minshaw (E) & Joseph E. O'Connell (E) THE PATH OF A KING, by John Buchan. (In Adventure) © Susan Charlotte, baroness Tweedsmuir (W) Feb. 18, 1921 issue. © 10Jan21, B485261. R71929, 21Dec50. <pb id='305.png' /> Mar. 3, 1921 issue. © 22Jan21, B486025. R71930, 21Dec50. Mar. 18, 1921 issue. © 1Feb21, B486639. R71931, 21Dec50. Apr. 3, 1921 issue. © 15Feb21, B487528. R71932, 21Dec50. Apr. 18, 1921 issue. © 2Mar21, B488620. R71933, 21Dec50. May 3, 1921 issue. © 15Mar21, B489617. R71934, 21Dec50. May 18, 1921 issue. © 28Mar21, B490476. R71935, 21Dec50. PATRI, Angelo. SEE I go afishing. R69267. Mother is waiting. R67536. Our girls. R70597. Pebble pickers. R64975. A tale that is told. R66532. Today's daughter. R72051. PATRICK, Diana, pseud. SEE Wilson, Denemes (Newman) A PATRIOT LAD OF OLD BOSTON, by Russell Gordon Carter; illustrated by Henry Pitz. © 1Jul23, A711161. R64665, 24Jul50, Russell Gordon Carter (A) PATUFFA, the story of an artist; by Beatrice Harreden. © 14Sep23, A752959. R71287, 4Dec50, Richard Garnett (E) PAUL, Cedar. SEE The dominant sex. R65128. PAUL, Eden. SEE The dominant sex. R65128. PAUL, Elliot Harold. SEE Impromptu. R71869. PEABODY, Emily Clough. SEE Lives worth living. R66668. PEACHBLOOM, by Rita Weiman. (In Elks magazine) © Rita Weiman (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 1Oct23, B586888. R71359, 11Dec50. PEACOCKS, a comedy in three acts by Owen Davis. © 1Dec23, D66178. R71157, 6Dec50, Owen Davis (A) PEARCE, Alan S. SEE Bible alphabets and memory work. R70077. PEASANT HOME IN CORSICA, by National Geographic Society. © 15Aug23, K177660. R71821, 18Dec50, National Geographic Society (PWH) PEBBLE PICKERS, by Angelo Patri. (In Redbook magazine) © Angelo Patri (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 23Jul23, B581998. R64975, 26Jul50. PEDLER, Margaret (Bess) SEE The barbarian lover. R69246 ... The penalty. R70032. PEG O' MY HEART, a photoplay in eight reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 10Jan23, L18736. R71806, 20Dec50, Loew's inc. (PWH) LA PEINE DES HOMMES: UN NOUVEL HONNEUR, par Pierre Hamp [pseud. de Henri Bourillon] © 18Oct22, AF21453. R66913, 12Sep50, Pierre Hamp, ps. de Henri Bourillon (A) PEIXOTTO, Ernest. SEE Through Spain and Portugal. R68244. THE PENALTY, by Margaret Pedler. © 5Nov23, A762965. R70032, 10Nov50, Flora Mabel Warhurst (E) & Harold Pincott (E) <pb id='306.png' /> PENDEXTER, Hugh. SEE Over the rim of the ridge. R64668 ... Tameless days. R67810 ... PEOPLE'S © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 42, nos. 1-6, v. 43, nos. 1-2, Apr. 15-Aug. 1, 1923. © 13Apr23, B574324; 1May23, B575467; 15May23, B576489; 1Jun23, B577565; 15Jun23, B578384; 29Jun23, B579455; 13Jul23, B581078; 1Aug23, B582195. R65460-65467, 10Aug50. v. 43. nos. 3-6, Aug. 15-Oct. 1, 1923. © 15Aug23, B583434; 1Sep23, B584299; 15Sep23, B585376; 1Oct23, B586441. R70195-70198, 16Nov50. v. 44, nos. 1-2, Oct. 15-Nov. 1, 1923. © 15Oct23, B587464; 1Nov23, B589076. R70199-70200, 16Nov50. PEPITA, a Mexican operetta in two acts. Libretto by Philip A. Hutchins, music by Augustus C. Knight. © 10Feb23, D26446. R70617, 27Nov50, Otis H. Godfrey (E of A. C. Knight) PEREGRINE'S PROGRESS, by Jeffery Farnol. © 30Sep22, A686073. R67681, 28Sep50, Jeffery Farnol (A) PERFECT COFFEE. © 20Oct22, Print 6565. R68263, 13Oct50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE PERFECT MARRIAGE, by I. A. R. Wylie. (In Good housekeeping) © I. A. R. Wylie (A) Sept. 1923 issue. © 18Aug23, B583528. R66115, 21Aug50. THE PERFECT PERFECTOL MOTOR OIL. © 1Jan23, Label 25727. R70719, 29Nov50, U. S. Oil Co. (P) PERKINS, Kenneth. SEE The beloved brute. R64854 ... PERKINS, Lucy (Fitch) SEE The Filipino twins. R69683. The Swiss twins. R64989. PERRY, Bliss. SEE The praise of folly and other papers. R69688. PERSISCHES BALLETT, Handlung und Choreographie von Ellen Tels [pseud.] Musik von Egon Wellesz. Klavierauszug zu zwei Handen. Persian ballet, plot and choreography by [Ellen Tels, pseud. of Elena Rabeneck] Music by [Egon Wellesz] Piano score. Op. 30. © 23Aug22, D160. R65304, 2Aug50, Egon Wellesz (A) PERSONALITY LINEN. (Stationery) © 10Jan23, Print 26208. R71572, 15Dec50, Western Tablet & Stationery Corp. (P) THE PEST, by Albert Payson Terhune. © 18Jan23, A696163. R69272, 3Nov50, Mrs. Albert Payson Terhune (W) PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND LITTLE WHITE RABBIT, by Linda Stevens Almond, with illus. by J. L. G. © 27Jun23, A711020. R64880, 31Jul50, The Platt & Munk Co., inc. (PWH) PETER RABBIT, JACK-THE-JUMPER AND THE OLD WITCH WOMAN, by Linda Stevens Almond. (Altemus Peter Rabbit series) © 23Aug23, A756298. R72285, 28Dec50, The Platt & Munk Co., inc. (PWH) PETERSON, Harry Claude. SEE Above the clouds with the Pony Express pouch. R68080. Dare devils of the Pony Express. R68083. <pb id='307.png' n='1950_h2/A/0103' /> Early day mail service in California. R68086. Freaks, fools and fun of the days of forty-nine. R68079. From cave man to mother lode. R68078. History of the overland mail. R68087. Hypnotists and humbugs at Murphy's Camp in '49. R68088. Marvelous Pony Express riders' record. R68084. Notorious characters of the Pony Express. R68082. Old Bill Harden and the days of forty-nine. R68075. Playing undertaker in the days of forty-nine. R68074. The Pony Express arrives. R68081. Poor lo, the Indian: But save your tears. R68090. Rarest Pony Express document. R68085. The trail of the mouldering ox. R68089. Who picked up the first nugget in California? R68077. The yellow behind the greenback. R68076. PETIT-JEAN, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] Illustrated by Ralph Barton. (In Everybody's magazine) © John Hay Beith (A) Apr. 1917 issue. © 23Mar17, A452125. R71422, 11Dec50. LA PETITE amíe. R68410. SEE Les avaries: Les Hannetons ... PHAROS AND PHARILLON, by E. M. Forster. © 30Jul23, (pub. abroad 15May23), A752371. R71049, 4Dec50, E. M. Forster (A) THE PHASES of human progress. R65663. SEE The life of reason. PHELPS, Nancy S. SEE Answers to problems in Technical mathematics ... R71102 ... Technical mathematics. R71096. PHELPS, William Lyon. SEE Human nature in the Bible. R68243. PHI-PHI, opéretta en trois actes. Livret de Albert Willemetz et F. Sollar. Musique de Henri Christine. Partition. Chant seul. © 27Mar20, D26030. R70835, 29Nov50, Reine Marguerite Christine (C) PHIL, THE FIDDLER, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 30, 1922 issue. © 27Dec22, B554728. R67876, 2Oct50. THE PHILADELPHIA AND READING COAL AND IRON COMPANY, by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1886) © 6Aug23, K179946. R65376, 9Aug50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) PHYSICS, the science of the forces of nature, by D. W. Hering. (The Popular science library, v. 4) © 15Dec22, A692481. R66314, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) PHYSIOGRAPHIC DIAGRAM OF EUROPE, 1923. By Armin Kohl Lobeck. Small scale ed. © 10Jan23, A695592. R69080, 16Oct50, Armin Kohl Lobeck (A) PHYSIOGRAPHY, the science of the abode of man, by William Berryman Scott. (The Popular science library, v. 14) © 15Dec22, A692488. R66320, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) <pb id='308.png' /> PHYSIOLOGY, the science of the body, by Ernest G. Martin. (The Popular science library, v. 9) © 15Dec22, A692928. R66323, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH) PHYSIOLOGY AND HYGIENE, by Charles P. Emerson and George Herbert Betts. Rev. ed. (Hygiene and health series, 2) © on new matter; 26Jul22, A681150. R63916, 12Jun50, Mrs. Walter A. Compton (Child of C. P. Emerson) & Harlan Betts (Child of G. H. Betts) PICTORIAL PHOTOGRAPHY, its principles and practice; by Paul L. Anderson. 2d ed. Rev. © 25Apr23, A711377. R71678, 14Dec50, Paul L. Anderson (A) PICTORIAL REVIEW MAGAZINE. © The Hearst Corp. (PCW) v. 24, nos. 10-12, July-Sept. 1923. © 15Jun23, B580265; 15Jul23, B581624; 15Aug23, B583977. R72210-72212, 27Dec50. v. 25, nos. 1-4, Oct. 1923-Jan. 1924. © 15Sep23, B585650; 15Oct23, B588150; 15Nov23, B590921; 15Dec23, B607389. R72213-72216, 27Dec50. THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY, a dramatization in eight scenes of Oscar Wilde's novel of that name, by Theodore Pratt. © 4Jun23, D64726. R65691, 14Aug50, Theodore Pratt (A) PIERNE, Gabriel. SEE Cydalise et le chevre-pied. R69900. PIERROT, George F. SEE The toreador. R67534. PIERROT'S MOTHER; a fantastic play in one act. By Glenn Hughes. © 10Oct23, A760406. R69079, 27Oct50, Glenn Hughes (A) PI KAPPA ALPHA DIRECTORY, 1923, by Pi Kappa Alpha Fraternity. © 11May23, A705901. R68262, 13Oct50, The Pi Kappa Alpha Fraternity (PWH) PI Kappa Alpha Fraternity. SEE PI Kappa Alpha directory, 1923. R68262. THE PIG BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, by W. W. Smith; with introd. and chapter on special instruction for pig-club leaders, and appendix by Frederick M. Shanklin. © 20Mar23, A704435. R68239, 13Oct50, W. W. Smith (A) PILGRIM. (Sugar cured ham) © 23Sep22, Label 25309. R64661, 24Jul50, Mission Provision Co. (P) PIPPIN by Archibald Marshall. © 28Oct22, A683967. R66918, 8Sep50, Helen Marshall (W) PIRANDELLO, Fausto. SEE Three plays. R64631. PIRANDELLO, Lietta. SEE Three plays. R64631. PIRANDELLO, Luigi. SEE Three plays. R64631. PIRANDELLO, Stefano. SEE Three plays. R64631. PIZZETTI, Ildebrando. SEE Debora e Jaele. R70812. PLACES OF QUIET STRENGTH AND OTHER SERMONS, by John Timothy Stone. © 22Jun23, A711047. R68948, 30Oct50, John Timothy Stone (A) PLAIN-CHANT, poème, par Jean Cocteau. © 3Jul23, AF23193. R65751, 1Aug50, Jean Cocteau (A) <pb id='309.png' /> THE PLAIN SAILING COOK BOOK, by Susanna Shanklin Browne. © 10Nov22, A686942. R68245, 13Oct50, Susanna Shanklin Browne (A) PLATERO Y YO, por Juan Ramón Jiménez. Preliminary matter, exercises and vocabulary by Gertrude M. Walsh, editor. Illustrated by Maud and Miska Petersham. (Heath's modern language series, Spanish texts) © 15Dec22, A692528. R67298, 20Sep50, Gertrude M. Walsh (A) PLATFORM SPEAKING; a practical study for business and professional men, by George Rowland Collins. © 9Nov23, A760823. R70405, 21Nov50, George Rowland Collins (A) PLATT, Rutherford H. SEE Archer of the old army. R66791 ... PLATT and Munk Company, inc. SEE I don't want to go to bed. R72287. I don't want to wear coats and things. R72286. Peter Rabbit, Jack-the-Jumper and Little White Rabbit. R64880. Peter Rabbit, Jack-the-Jumper and the old witch woman. R72285. Tom Thumb. R72284. When Peter Rabbit went a-fishing. R72288. THE PLAYER QUEEN, by William Butler Yeats. (In the Dial) © Bertha Georgia Yeats (W) Nov. 5, 1922 issue. © 5Nov22, B550400. R69431, 1Nov50. PLAYING UNDERTAKER IN THE DAYS OF FORTY-NINE, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune magazine) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) June 3, 1923 issue. © 3Jun23, A670705. R68074, 6Oct50. PLAYING WITH SOULS, by Clara (Longworth) comtesse de Chambrun. © 15Sep22, A683288. R63983, 29Jun50, Clara L. de Chambrun (A) A PLEA FOR DISARMAMENT, by Don Marquis. (In the New York tribune) © Bernice Maud Marquis (E) Sept. 5, 1923 issue. © 5Sep23, B562308. R66789, 6Sep50. PLUS FOURS, by P. G. Wodehouse; illustrated by M. Thomassen. (In Brooklyn standard union) Pub. abroad in Strand magazine as "Magic plus fours"; illustrated by J. H. Thorpe. © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Sept. 9, 1923 issue (Brooklyn standard union), Dec. 1922 issue (Strand magazine) © 9Sep23, (pub. abroad 25Nov22, AI-4807), A716364. R67000, 13Sep50. A POCKET BRIDGE BOOK, by Walter Camp. © 7Sep23, A760025. R67001, 13Sep50, Janet Camp Troxell (C) POEMS, by Wallace B. Blackwell. © 27Apr23, A710835. R63890, 5Jul50, Wallace B. Blackwell (A) POEMS AND PLAYS, by Robert Browning; introd. and notes by Hewette Elwell Joyce. (Modern student's library) © on introd. & notes; 25Aug22, A681562. R65365, 8Aug50, Hewette Elwell Joyce (A) POEMS OF AMERICAN PATRIOTISM, chosen by Brander Matthews; illustrated by N. C. Wyeth. Rev. ed. © 6Oct22, A686174. R65668, 8Aug50, Nelson Macy, jr. (NK) <pb id='310.png' n='1950_h2/A/0104' /> THE POETICAL WORKS OF JOAQUIN MILLER, edited with an introd. and notes by Stuart P. Sherman. © 6Apr23, A698943. R64015, 10Apr50, Juanita Joaquina Miller (PWH) THE POISNER, by Arthur C. Train. (In Cosmopolitan) © Helen C. Train (W) Mar. 1923 issue. © 10Feb23, B570198. R69496, 8Nov50. POLING, Daniel Alfred. SEE What men need most and other sermons. R68971. POLLEY, Mary E. SEE Correct English. R67299. POLLOCK, Channing. SEE The fool. R70721. THE PONY EXPRESS ARRIVES, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) July 29, 1923 issue. © 29Jul23, A712800. R68081, 6Oct50. THE POOL OF THE SACRED CROCODILE, by H. C. McNeile; illus. by George W. Gage. Pub. abroad in Pearson's magazine with illus. by W. R. S. Stott. © 27Oct23, (pub. abroad 1May23, AI-5148), A762641. R69258, 30Oct50, Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) POOR LO, THE INDIAN! BUT SAVE YOUR TEARS, by Harry G. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Sept. 30, 1923 issue. © 30Sep23, A715473. R68090, 6Oct50. POOR PINNEY, by Marian Chapman. © 20Feb23, A698440. R67263, 18Sep50, Marian Chapman (A) POORMAN, Alfred P. SEE Applied mechanics. R67311. POPLAR. (Bacon) © 15Apr23, Label 27142. R68503, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPLAR. (Bologna style sausage) © 15Apr23, Label 27145. R68506, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPLAR. (Frankfurter style sausage) © 15Apr23, Label 27143. R68504, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPLAR. (Lard compound) © 15Apr23, Label 27146. R68507, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPLAR. (Lard with beef fat added) © 15Apr23, Label 27144. R68505, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPLAR. (Sausage) © 1Apr23, Label 27147. R68508, 16Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) POPPY COMES TO TOWN, an original musical comedy. Book and lyrics by Dorothy Donnelly, music by John Egan. [Text only] © 9Jun23, D64767. R71431, 12Dec50, City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E), Ambrose V. McCall (E) POPPY COMES TO TOWN, an original musical comedy in three acts by Dorothy Donnelly. [Text only] © 17May23, D64498. R70415, 27Nov50, City Bank Farmers Trust Co. (E), Ambrose V. McCall (E) THE POPPY-KISS, a play by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. © 27Oct23, D65866. R69230, 2Nov50, Catherine Chisholm Cushing (A) THE POPULAR MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 68, nos. 2-6, v. 69. nos. 1-2, May 7-Aug. 7, 1923. © 7May23, B575469; <pb id='311.png' /> 18May23, B576490; 7Jun23, B578385; 20Jun23, B579457; 7Jul23, B580283; 20Jul23, B581018; 7Aug23, B583435. R65468-65474, 10Aug50. v. 69, nos. 3-6, Aug. 20-Oct. 7, 1923. © 18Aug23, B583913; 7Sep23, B564661; 30Sep23, B585840; 5Oct23, B587018. R70201-70204, 16Nov50. v. 70, no. 1, Oct. 20, 1923. © 20Oct23, B587860. R70205, 16Nov50. POPULAR publications. inc. SEE Adventure. Argosy-Allstory weekly. The Black mask. Munsey's magazine. PORTER, Gene (Stratton) SEE Boys and girls who cannot go to college. R66999. Conveniences for the cook. R65642. Having fun with your money. R68184. Jesus of the emerald. R71926. Making Christmas last a year. R70381. A miracle and a marvel. R72203. Tho white flag. R64576. PORTER, Harold Everett. SEE Rope. R67840. PORTRAIT, by Amy Lowell. (In Harper's magazine) © Ada D. Russell (E) Nov. 1922 issue. © 25Oct22, B550368. R67901, 3Oct50. POSSESSION, by Mazo de la Roche. © 13Mar23, A698707. R71140, 6Dec50, Mazo de la Roche (A) POST, Emily (Price) SEE Etiquette in society, in business, in politics and at home. R64036. POST, William H. SEE Never say die. R71596. LE POT AU NOIR, per Louis Chadourne. © 30Jun23, AF23094. R65748, 1Aug50, Mme. Chadourne, née Marie-Thérèse Vignes (NK) POTTER, Andrey A. SEE Elements of engineering thermodynamics. R71863. THE POTTERS, a whimsical comedy of American family life in 15 scenes by Joseph P. McEvoy. © 11Jan23, D63408. R64679, 24Jul50, Mr. J. P. McEvoy (A) POTTLE, Emery Bemsley. SEE The hero. R66703. Tarnish. R67136. POUND, Louise. SEE American ballads and songs. R65662. THE POWER OF SYMPATHY, by Christopher Morley. Illustrated by Walter Jack Duncan. © 1Jun23, A704998. R68982, 27Oct50, Christopher Morley (A) THE POWER OF PRAYER, by John Frederick [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 23, 1922 issue. © 20Dec22, B554727. R67875, 2Oct50. THE POWER OF THE PRESS, by Booth Tarkington. (In McCall's magazine) © Susanah K. Tarkington (W) Jan. 1924 issue. © 10Dec23, B604039. R71660, 18Dec50. POWERS, Mabel. SEE Around an Iroquois story fire. R68981. <pb id='312.png' /> PRACTICAL HEAT. Terrell Croft, editor. [Rev. by R. B. Purdy] Pts. 1 and 2. © 13Apr23, A705426. R67313, 18Sep50, Lauree B. Croft (W) THE PRAISE OF FOLLY AND OTHER PAPERS, by Bliss Perry. © 11Oct23, A760470. R69688, 9Nov50, Bliss Parry (A) PRATT, Theodore. SEE The picture of Dorian Gray. R65691. The revolt of the mummies. R65690. PREMIERE DANSEUSE, by Arthur Somers Roche. (In the Telegram, Elmira, N. Y.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) June 3, 1923 issue. © 3Jun23, A712620. R65888, 18Aug50. THE PRESBYTERIAN CHILD, by Joseph Hergesheimer. © 26Oct23, A760703. R71054, 4Dec50, Joseph Hergesheimer (A) PRICE, Garret. SEE The saber tusk walrus. R66432. PRICE, L. Frank. SEE Order of the National Arbitration Association. R71978. PRICHARD, Hesketh Vernon Hesketh. SEE Cahusac mystery. R72269. Don Q. R72270. November Joe, detective of the woods. R72014. PRICHARD, Kate O'Brien Hesketh. SEE Cahusac mystery. R72269. Don Q. R72270. A PRIMER OF HIGHER SPACE: THE FOURTH DIMENSION, by Claude Bragdon. 2d rev. ed. © 7Sep23, A760105. R71943, 5Dec50, Henry Bragdon (C) THE PRINCIPAL AND HIS SCHOOL, by Ellwood P. Cubberley. (Riverside textbooks in education) © 23May23, A704687. R71798, 18Dec50, Helen Cubberley (W) PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF LEGAL RESEARCH, by Donald J. Kiser. v. 1. © 21May23, A778122. R64317, 10Jul50, The American Law Book Co. (PWH) THE PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF SURVEYING; elementary surveying, by Charles B. Breed and George L. Hosmer. Vol. 1: 5th ed. © 12Sep23, A759782. R72259, 27Dec50, Charles B. Breed (A) & Lucy H. Hosmer (W) PRINCIPLES OF CHEMICAL ENGINEERING, by William H. Walker, Warren K. Lewis and William H. McAdams. 1st ed. © 15May23, A704618. R68491, 16Oct50, The Boston Safe Deposit & Trust Co. (E), Jonathan Walker (E), Warren K. Lewis (A) & William H. McAdams (A) PROBLEMS AFTER THE WAR AND THE EUROPEAN COUNTRIES AFTER THE WAR, by Edward Raymond Turner. © 21Nov23, A765210. R70594, 24Nov50, Eleanor Bowie Turner (C) PROBLEMS AND PROJECTS IN SALESMANSHIP, by John Alford Stevenson. © 22Sep23, A760035. R68962, 30Oct50, Josephine R. Stevenson (W) PROBLEMS THAT PERPLEX, by J. W. G. Ward. © 22Jun23, A711042. R68947, 30Oct50, Alice R. Ward (W) PRODUCTIVE SOILS, by Wilbert Walter Weir. 2d rev. ed. (Lippincott's farm manuals) © 4Jan23, A698522. R69620, 6Nov50, Wilbert Walter Weir (A) THE PROFESSIONAL GOLFER, a play by Launcelot Cressy Servos. © 27Aug23, D65353. R66709, 7Sep50, Launcelot Cressy Servos (A) <pb id='313.png' n='1950_h2/A/0105' /> PROGRAM OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 48-50 Boiling pot 1-4 inclusive; Symposium 2; Miracles of candidacy 1-3, by George Edwin Burnell, v. 2, Mar. 9, 1922. © 11Dec22, A696002. R67130, 14Sep50, Genevieve Burnell Forgey (C) PROUTY, Olive (Higgins) SEE Stella Dallas. R67175 ... A PUBLISHER'S CONFESSION, by Walter H. Page; with an introd. by Frank N. Doubleday. New ed. © on introd.; 28Sep23, A759394. R67963, 6Oct50, Dorothy Doubleday Babcock (C) PUGH, Anne R. SEE Michelet and his ideas on social reform. R72048. "PULL, PULL, MY FINE HEARTS ALIVE; pull, my children; pull, my little ones!" By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169285. R67338, 22Sep50, Meadd Schaeffer (A) PURDY, R. B. SEE Practical heat. R67313. PURDY, Richard Augustus. SEE Crossed wires. R70760. PUSS IN ARMS, by Eda S. Doench. © 13Feb23, K172698. R64063, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) PUTNAM, Thomas Milton. SEE Mathematical theory of finance. R71099. PUTTING IT OVER, by Ellery H. Clark. © 7Jun23, A704864. R72290, 29Dec50, Ellery Harding Clark, jr. (C) PYLE, Howard. SEE Howard Pyle's book of the American spirit; the romance of American history. R68966. QUALITY MADE. (Coffee) © 5Oct23, Print 7097. R70363, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) QUAND LA CLOCHE SONNERA, drama musical en un acte. Paroles de Y. d'Hansewick et P. de Wattyne. Musique de Alfred Bachelet. Piano et chant. © 14Dec22, D26398. R69895, 1Nov50, Félicie Bigue. QUIGLEY, Margery. For works written in collaboration with Mary E. Clark, SEE Clark, Margery, pseud. QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER, a photoplay in eight reels by Arthur Sawyer and Herbert Lubin. © 29Dec22, L18554. R68160, 9Oct50, Loew's inc. (PWH) QUINSON, Gustave. SEE Là-haut. R69899. RKO Radio Pictures, inc. SEE Can a woman love twice. R64520. Captain Fly by Night. R64519. Fighting blood. R71837-71841. If I were queen. R64518. Up and at 'em. R64517. R. L. STEVENSON; a critical study. By Frank Swinnerton. © 16Nov23, A766105. R70386, 20Nov50, Frank Swinnerton (A) RABAN, Harry Percy. SEE Back trailing on the old frontiers. R64052 ... <pb id='314.png' /> RABENECK, Elena. SEE Parsisches Ballett. R65304. RADIGUET, Raymond. SEE Le diable au corps. R65742. THE RADIOTIKES, comprising a multiplicity of elf-like figures, each named Operatike, Concertike, Funny Tike [etc.] by Helen Cogswell. © 6Aug23, G69386. R67801, 7Sep50, Helen Cogswell Trostel (A) RAIN, a play in 3 acts; by John Colton and Clemence Randolph. "Founded on W. Somerset Maugham's story 'Miss Thompson.'" © 22Nov23, A766129. R71137, 6Dec50, Marcus F. Colton (NK) & Clemence Randolph (A) THE RAINBOW CAT, by Rose Fyleman; illustrated by Thelma Cudlipp Grosvenor. © 9Nov23, A766127. R70036, 10Nov50, Rose Fyleman (A) THE RAINSTORM, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 19Aug23, L19331. R68430, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) RAINE, William MacLeod. SEE Ironheart. R69677. A RAINY DAY, a comedy in three acts by Fred Ballard. © 11Sep23, D65454. R67238, 19Sep50, John Frederick Ballard (A) RALPH HERNE, by W. H. Hudson. © 15May23, A705451. R71278, 6Dec50, The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (E) RAMELLA, Giuseppe. SEE La tempesta. R70813. RANDALL, Merle. SEE Thermodynamics and the free energy of chemical substances. R67308. RANDOLPH, Clemence. SEE Rain, a play in 3 acts. R71137. RANDOM memories. R65367. SEE Memories and portraits ... RANGE AND PASTURE MANAGEMENT, by Arthur W. Sampson. © 8Jun23, A704969. R71100, 30Nov50, Arthur W. Sampson (A) RANKIN, J. W. SEE Life on the Mississippi. R66534. RAREST PONY EXPRESS DOCUMENT, by Harry G. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Paterson (W) Aug. 26, 1923 issue. © 26Aug23, A713880. R68085, 6Oct50. RAWLEIGH GOOD HEALTH TALCUM. © 11May23, Label 26191. R72019, 26Dec50, The W. T. Rawleigh Co. (P) RAWLEIGH (W. T.) Company. SEE Rawleigh Good Health talcum. R72019. RAYMOND, Ernest. SEE Damascus gate. R71040. RAYMOND, William G. SEE The elements of railroad engineering. R72260. READING COMPANY, by American Bank Note Company. (Special C-1882) © 22Sep23, K179947. R67672, 27Sep50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) THE REAL LINCOLN: A portrait, by Jesse W. Weik. © 14Oct22, A686417. R68261, 13Oct50, Mary H. Weik (C) & John E. Weik (C) <pb id='315.png' /> THE REAL STORY OF A BOOTLEGGER; author anonymous [i. e. George S. Kaufman] © 30Jul23, A711893. R67282, 18Sep50, George S. Kaufman (A) (See also The real story of a bootlegger, 10Oct50, R68123) THE REAL STORY OF A BOOTLEGGER; author anonymous [i. e. Reginald Wright Kauffman] © 30Jul23, A711893. R68123, 10Oct50, Reginald Wright Kauffman (A) (See also The real story of a bootlegger, 18Sep50, R67282) RECORDS of a family of engineers. R65367. SEE Memories and portraits ... THE RECOGNIZED STANDARD. (Coffee) © 6Jun23, Print 6917. R70352, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) RE-CREATING THE INDIVIDUAL. by Beatrice M. Hinkle. © 26Oct23, A759778. R71375, 8Dec50, Beatrice M. Hinkle (A) RED BIRD; A DRAMA OF WISCONSIN HISTORY IN FOUR ACTS, by William Ellery Leonard. © 1Jun23, A752022. R64251, 7Jul50, Charlotte Charlton Leonard (W) RED KNIGHT, by Amy Lowell. (In Dial) © Ada D. Russell (E) Oct. 1922 issue. © 25Sep22, B548530. R67421, 20Sep50. THE RED MAN IN THE UNITED STATES, by G. E. E. Lindquist, with a foreword by Charles H. Burke. © 25May23, A704707. R68946, 30Oct50, G. E. E. Lindquist (A) THE RED RUNNERS, by Seckatary Hawkins [pseud. of Robert F. Schulkers] © 2Nov22, A690011. R68683, 24Oct50, Robert F. Schulkers (A) REDBOOK MAGAZINE. © McCall Corp. (PCW) v. 40, no. 6, v. 41, nos. 1-5, Apr.-Sept. 1923. © 23Mar23, B573311; 23Apr23, B576179; 23May23, B577671; 23Jun23, B579824; 23Jul23, B581998; 23Aug23, B583934. R66547-66552, 25Aug50. REEVE, Arthur Benjamin. SEE Craig Kennedy listens in. R71666. REFLECTED HAPPINESS, by Bessie P. Gutmann. © 13Feb23, K172699. R64064, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) REICHARD, Geraldine Griffith. SEE One exciting night. R66782. The white rose. R66784. REIMS, by Hazel Collister Hutchison. (In Poetry) © Hazel Collister Hutchison (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 27Oct23, B589014. R69485, 6Nov50. REJUVENATION AND THE PROLONGATION OF HUMAN EFFICIENCY, by Paul Kammerer; with an introd. by Harry Benjamin. Translated by A. Paul Maerker-Branden. © 5Dec23, A765312. R71179, 7Dec50, A. Paul Maerker-Branden (A) RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY, by Lewis Guy Rohrbaugh. © 20Jul23, A711289. R66663, 31Aug50, Lewis Guy Rohrbaugh (A) A REMEDY against sin. R65981. SEE For better, for worse. REMEMBER THE MAN YOU'LL REMEMBER THE CAN. (Coffee) © 9May23, Print 6919. R70354, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) THE REMUDDLED HOUSE, a play in one act by Louise Bascom Barratt. © 24May23, D64595. R64006, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) <pb id='316.png' n='1950_h2/A/0106' /> RENAISSANCE ART, by Elie Faure. Translated from the French by Walter Pach. (History of art, v. 3) © 21Sep23, A759107. R68961, 30Oct50, Walter Pach (A) RENAN, Ernest. SEE Nouvelles lettres intimes. R68408. RENAN, Henrietta. SEE Nouvelles lettres intimes. R68408. REPLOGLE, P. G. SEE Replogle and Garrett's poultry table and calculator. R70479. REPLOGLE AND GARRETT'S POULTRY TABLE AND CALCULATOR, by F. G. Replogle. © 25Sep23, A757672. R70479, 20Nov50, F. G. Replogle (A) REPORTS OF CASES ADJUDGED IN THE COURT OF APPEALS OF THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA from April 3, 1922 to March 5, 1923. v. 52. Reporter: Henry E. Randall. © 15Sep23, A760937. R68278, 13Oct50, *. REPORT OF CASES ARGUED AND DETERMINED IN THE SUPREME COURT OF ALABAMA DURING THE OCTOBER TERM, 1921-1922. v. 208. Reporter: Noble H. Seay. © 15May23, A752250. R64310, 10Jul50, The State of Alabama (PWH) REPRESENTATIVE ENGLISH ESSAYS; selected and arranged by Warner Taylor. © 22Sep23, A760036. R68963, 30Oct50, Warner Taylor (A) THE REPUBLICS OF LATIN AMERICA, their history, governments and economic conditions, by Herman G. James and Percy A. Martin. © 13Aug23, A711544. R66664, 31Aug50, Herman G. James (A) THE RETURN OF BATTLING BILLSON, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 10Jul23, B581768. R64204, 13Jul50. THE RETURN OF THE MIDDLE CLASS, by John Corbin. © 10Nov22, A686951. R68248, 13Oct50, John Corbin (A) LE RÉVEIL DES MORTS, par Roland Dorgeles [Real name: Rolland Maurice Lécavelé] © 16Jun23, AF23033. R64189, 10Jul50, Roland Dorgeles (A) REVIEW and Herald Publishing Association. SEE The story of patriarchs and prophets. R69602. THE REVOLT OF THE MUMMIES, a comedy in one act by Theodore Pratt. © 23Apr23, D64273. R65690, 14Aug50, Theodore Pratt (A) RHEAD, Louis. SEE King Arthur and his knights. R71671. LA RIBAUDE, opére comique en 3 actes. Livret de Albert Verse, musique de A. Sablon. Partition complète chant et piano © 15Sep13, D19375. R69901, 1Nov50, Germaine Dauriac, vve Sablon (W) RICCI, Luigi. SEE I Compagnacci. R68511. RICCITELLI, Primo. SEE I Compagnacci. R68511. RICE, Elmer L. SEE The adding machine. R64199. Baa, baa, black sheep. R70805. RICEYMAN STEPS; a novel by Arnold Bennett. © 16Nov23, (pub. abroad 25Oct23, AI-5491), A766106. R70387, 20Nov50, Marie Marguerite Bennett (W) <pb id='317.png' /> RICHARDSON, Norval. SEE The cave woman. R65366. RICHMOND, Grace Louise (Smith) SEE Rufus. R67962. RICHTER, Gisele M. A. SEE The craft of Athenian pottery. R65277. RICKARD, Thomas Arthur. SEE Technical writing. R71858. RICKERT, Edith. SEE The Bojabi tree. R67965. THE RIDDLE, and other tales; by Walter de la Mare. © 1Jun23, A705733. R71280, 1Dec50, Walter de la Mare (A) THE RIDING MASTER, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 16Dec23, L19735. R71787, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) RIGHT you are! (If you think so) SEE Three plays. R64631. RILEY, James Whitcomb. SEE Riley fairy tales. R67957. Songs of home. R67956. RILEY FAIRY TALES, by James Whitcomb Riley; illustrated by Will Vawter. © on illus.; 27Aug23, A711713. R67957, 25Sep50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH) RIMSKII-KORSAKOV, Nicolai Andreevich. SEE My musical life. R71941. RIP, pseud. SEE Thénon, Georges. RITCHIE, Robert Welles. SEE Drums of doom. R65759. Dust of the dedert. R65758. THE RIVERSIDE NEW TESTAMENT; a translation from the original Greek into the English of today, by William G. Ballantine. © 23May23, A704686. R69675, 9Nov50, Edward Ballantine (C) & Mary Ballantine Allen (C) RIVIERE, Jacques. SEE Aimee. R66912. RIVOIRE, André. SEE Le hulle. R70838. THE ROAD AWAY FROM REVOLUTION, by Woodrow Wilson. © 28Jul23, A752367. R64973, 31Jul50, Edith Bolling Wilson (W) ROAD OF DESTINY, by Ellis Middleton. © 27Jul23, A752290. R71286, 6Dec50, Ellis Middleton (A) THE ROAD RUNNER, by Ben Ames Williams. (In Designer and the woman's magazine) © Ben Ames Williams (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 25Jun23, B579780. R71191, 8Dec50. Sept. 1923 issue. © 27Jul23, B582220. R71192, 8Dec50. THE ROARING LION, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 21Oct23, L19540. R71013, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ROARING LIONS ON A STEAMSHIP, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 13May23, L19010. R65953, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ROBBERY AT THE CAFE RAVANSAN, by Arthur Somers Roche; illustrated by W. B. King. (In the Telegram, Elmira, N. Y.) © Ethel P. Roche (W) July 15, 1923 issue. © 15Jul23, A712609. R65887, 18Aug50. <pb id='318.png' /> ROBERT, Henry M. SEE Parliamentary law. R72280. ROBERT, Osmond Thomas. SEE Lettres de mon moulin. R67295. ROBERT E. LEE, a play by John Drinkwater. © 21Jun23, D65081. R69693, 9Nov50, Daisy Kennedy Drinkwater (W) ROBERTS, Kate Louise. SEE Hoyt's new encyclopedia of practical quotations. R67506. ROBERTS, Kenneth L. SEE Sun hunting. R67954. ROBERTS, Theodore Goodridge. SEE Green timber thoroughbreds. R70394. ROBERTSON, Archibald Thomas. SEE The minister and his Greek New Testament. R69483. ROBIN HOOD, a photoplay in eleven reels by Douglas Fairbanks. © 1Nov22, L18416. R68208, 11Oct50, Sylvia Gable (PCB), Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. (PCB), Frances Wilcox (PCB), Bank of America as executor of the will of Robert Fairbanks, deceased (PCB), Flobelle Burden (PCB), Bank of America as trustee under the will of Douglas Fairbanks, deceased (PCB) ROBIN HOOD; or, THE MERRY OUTLAW OF SHERWOOD FOREST. A play in three acts by Owen Davis. © 14Feb23, D63816. R71154, 6Dec50, Owen Davis (A) ROBINSON, Clark Shove. SEE Differential equations in applied chemistry. R71861. ROBINSON, Howard. SEE The development of the British Empire. R64988. ROBINSON, James Harvey. SEE The humanizing of knowledge. R68782. ROCHE, Arthur Somers. SEE Dayless diamonds. R70294. Flutter in finance. R70293. Gray Ghost returns R65885. Illimore. R65889. A more honorable man. R65886. Premiere danseuse. R65888. Robbery at the Cafe Ravansan R65887. ROCK-FLOWER, by Jeanne Robert Foster. © 2Mar23, A698575. R67265, 18Sep50, Jeanne Robert Foster (A) ROCKEFELLER Institute for Medical Research. SEE Journal of experimental medicine. Journal of general physiology. ROGER, Noelle. SEE Le nouvesu deluge. R71055. ROGUES BADGE, by Charles Neville Buck. (In Popular magazine) © Charles Neville Buck (A) Oct. 20, 1923 issue. © 20Oct23, B587860. R68791, 23Oct50. ROHLFS, Anna Katharine (Green) SEE The step on the stair. R71370. ROHRBAUGH, Lewis Guy. SEE Religious philosophy. R66663. ROLT-WHEELER, Francis William. SEE A toreador of Spain. R67700. THE ROMANCE OF A ROUGE, by Ruby M. Ayres. © 5Oct23, A760693. R68153, 11Oct50, Ruby M. Ayres (A) <pb id='319.png' n='1950_h2/A/0107' /> ROOM 23, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 2Sep23, L19490. R69378, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) ROOTABAGA STORIES, by Carl Sandburg. Illus. and decorations by Maud and Miska Petersham. © 19Oct22, A683812. R68006, 6Oct50, Carl Sandburg (A) ROPE, by Holworthy Hall [pseud. of Harold Everett Porter] © 14Oct22, A683755. R67840, 20Oct50, Mrs. Nathaniel W. Niles, jr. (C) & John Porter (C) ROPES, Arthur Reed. SEE The cousin from nowhere. R66176. ROPING HER ROMEO, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 27Sep23, L19469. R69376, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) ROSBROOK, Fred E. SEE The law and practice in bankruptcy ... R64832 ... ROSE OF THE WORLD, by Kathleen Norris. (In the Delineator) © Kathleen Norris (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 25Oct23, B588597. R68897, 26Oct50. Jan. 1924 issue. © 30Nov23, B603423. R71268, 1Dec50. THE ROSE FYLEMAN FAIRY BOOK, selected from the poems of Rose Fyleman. © 9Nov23, A766109. R70034, 10Nov50, Rose Fyleman (A) ROSEBUD WALL PAPER, by Amy Lowell. (In North American review) © Ada D. Russell (E) Feb. 1923 issue. © 15Jan23, B568214. R67422, 20Sep50. ROSNY, J. H., siné, pseud. of J. H. H. Boëx. SEE Le felin géant. R71789. ROSS, Adrian, pseud. SEE Ropes, Arthur Reed. ROSSATO, Arturo. SEE La tempesta. R70813. THE ROTTENNESS of Lady Hounslow. SEE Lady Hounslow's charity. R67959. ROUGH-HEWN, by Dorothy Canfield [i.e. Dorothea Frances (Canfield) Fisher] © 3Oct22, A683517. R66815, 8Sep50, Dorothy Canfield Fisher (A) ROUGH SAILING, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Nov23, L19579. R71019, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ROUSSEAU, Jean Jacques. SEE The confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. R71951. THE ROVER, by Joseph Conrad. © 30Nov23, A766225. R71042, 1Dec50, John Alexander Conrad (C) THE ROVER, by Joseph Conrad. (In Pictorial review) © John Alexander Conrad (C) Sept. 1923 issue. © 15Aug23, B583977. R65985, 16Aug50. Oct. 1923 issue. © 15Sep23, B585650. R67212, 18Sep50. Nov. 1923 issue. © 15Oct23, B588150. R68486, 17Oct50. Dec. 1923 issue. © 15Nov23, B590921. R70395, 20Nov50. ROW, Peterson and Company. SEE High school algebra complete. R70108. <pb id='320.png' /> A second course in algebra. R70107. ROWLAND, Henry Cottrell. SEE Of clear intent. R68954. RUBANK, inc. SEE The Cragun Conservatory method for saxophone, v. 1. R68915. RUCK, Berta. SEE The Idol. R64971. Sir or madam. R64970. RUDIN (John) and Company, inc. SEE The book of life. R70110 ... RUFUS, by Grace S. Richmond; illustrated by Joseph Simont. © 28Sep23, A759393. R67962, 6Oct50, Grace S. Richmond (A) RUGGLES OF RED GAP, a photoplay in eight reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 12Sep23, L19404. R69372, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) THE RULES of practice. SEE New trials and appeals. R64827. RUSHMORE, Arthur W. SEE Two years in the French West Indies. R68965. RUSS, Carolyn Hale. SEE The log of a Forty-Niner. R72265. RUSSELL, Mary M. SEE Dramatized missionary stories. R63975. How to produce plays and pageants. R68972. RUSSELL Sage Foundation. SEE The burden of unemployment. Relief measures in fifteen American cities 1921-22. R69492. Education and training for social work. R69491. THE RUSSIAN THEATRE, by Oliver M. Sayler. © 17Nov22, A690256. R66525, 29Aug50, Oliver Sayler (A) RUSTLER'S VALLEY, by Clarence E. Mulford. (In Short stories) © Clarence E. Mulford (A) Sept. 10, 1923 issue. © 10Sep23, B585554. R67009, 13Sep50. Sept. 25, 1923 issue. © 25Sep23, B586727. R67538, 26Sep50. Oct. 10, 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, B587901. R68188, 12Oct50. Oct. 25, 1923 issue. © 25Oct23, B589879. R68898, 26Oct50. RUTLEDGE, Archibald. SEE Dwellers in the sanctuary. R70138. SAAVEDRA, Miguel de Cervantes. SEE Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de. SABATINI, Rafael. SEE Fortune's fool. R69678. THE SABER TUSK WALRUS, by Elliott Whitney; illustrator: Garret Price. © 31Jul23, A752365. R66432, 14Aug50, Whitman Publishing Co. (PWH) SABLON, Adelmar. SEE La ribaude. R69901. SACKVILLE-West, Hon. Victoria Mary. SEE Grey wethers. R66656. THE SACRIFICIAL GOAT, by Ernita Lascelles. © 25Sep23, A759514. R71174, 7Dec50, Ernita Lascelles (A) <pb id='321.png' /> LES SACRIFIÉES, roman dramatique, par Arthur Bernede. (Le livre national, no. 377) © 3May23, AF22592. R64183, 10Jul50, Mme vve Arthur Bernede (née Thècle-Marguerite Betouret) (W) THE SAD HORN BLOWERS, by Sherwood Anderson. (In Harper's magazine) © Eleanor Copenhaver Anderson (W) Feb. 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B568752. R64025, 10Jul50. SADDLE SONGS AND OTHER VERSE, by Henry Herbert Knibbs. © 13Oct22, A683705. R64986, 31Jul50, Ida Julia Knibbs (W) SAGE (Russell) Foundation. SEE Russell Sage Foundation. LA SAGESSE des femmes. R65747. SEE Les innocentes. ST. ELMO, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 15Aug23, L19345. R68435, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST AND HIS PARENTS, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169959. R66983, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE. © Appleton-Century-Crofts, inc. (PCW) v. 50, nos. 3-12, Jan.-Oct. 1923. © 5Jan23, B567609; 5Feb23, B570057; 5Mar23, B571980; 5Apr23, B574240; 5May23, B577008; 5Jun23, B578820; 5Jul23, B580691; 4Aug23, B582780; 5Sep23, B586839; 5Oct23, B587207. R71544-71553, 14Dec50. v. 51, nos. 1-2, Nov.-Dec. 1923. © 5Nov23, B590119; 5Dec23, B604090. R71554-71555, 14Dec50. SALOME OF THE TENEMENTS, by Anzia Yezierska. © 5Jan23, A692894. R64672, 24Jul50, Anzia Yezierska (A) SALOME OF THE TENEMENTS, by Anzia Yezierska. (In Beautiful womanhood magazine) © Anzia Yezierska (A) Sept. 1922 issue. © 10Aug22, B533012. R64673, 24Jul50. Oct. 1922 issue. © 10Sep22, B547226. R64674, 24Jul50. Nov. 1922 issue. © 20Oct22, B549485. R64675, 24Jul50. Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B626730. R64676, 24Jul50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 20Dec22, B554826. R64677, 24Jul50. Feb. 1923 issue. © 20Jan23, B568729. R64678, 24Jul50. SAMPSON, Arthur W. SEE Range and pasture management. R71100. SAMUEL-Rousseau, Marcel. SEE Le hulla. R70838. SANBORN Map Company. SEE Insurance maps. SANDBURG, Carl. SEE Rootabaga stories. R68006. SANDERS, Frank Knight. SEE Old Testament history. R65670. SANDMAN'S STORIES OF SNOWED-IN-HUT, by Abbie Phillips Walker; illustrated by Rhoda C. Chase. © 20Nov23, A759938. R70402, 21Nov50, Mary Phillips Babcock (NK) SANDMAN'S STORIES OF TWINKLE-EYES, by Abbie Phillips Walker; illustrated by Rhoda C. Chase. © 20Nov23, A759937. R70401, 21Nov50, Mary Phillips Babcock (NK) <pb id='322.png' n='1950_h2/A/0108' /> THE SANDS OF ORO, by Beatrice Grimshaw. (In Blue book magazine) © Beatrice Grimshaw (A) Nov. 1923 issue. © 1Oct23, B587759. R67974, 6Oct50. Dec. 1923 issue. © 1Nov23, B590683. R69482, 3Nov50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 1Dec23, B603730. R71377, 7Dec50. SANTAYANA, George. SEE The life of reason. R65663. SAPPER, pseud. SEE McNeile, Herman Cyril. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST. © The Curtis Publishing Co. (PCW) v. 195, nos. 28-53, Jan. 6-June 30, 1923. © 4Jan23, B567220; 11Jan23, B567750; 18Jan23, B568288; 25Jan23, B568742; 1Feb23, B569183; 8Feb23, B569788; 15Feb23, B570271; 22Feb23, B570770; 1Mar23, B571295; 8Mar23, B571853; 15Mar23, B572381; 22Mar23, B572927; 29Mar23, B573486; 5Apr23, B573966; 12Apr23, B574504; 19Apr23, B574983; 26Apr23, B575496; 3May23, B576050; 10May23, B576578; 17May23, B577079; 24May23, B577586; 31May23, B577991; 7Jun23, B578487; 14Jun23, B579008; 21Jun23, B579469; 28Jun23, B579940. R71240-71265, 6Dec50. SAUNDERS, Alta Gwinn. SEE The literature of business. R68967. THE SAWDUST GIRL, a musical romance of the circus in three acts and five scenes. Book and lyrics by Charles Francis Park. [Text only] © 2May22, D60882. R70231, 20Nov50, Charles Francis Park (A) SAWYER, Ruth. SEE The tale of the enchanted bunnies. R68952. SAYLER, Oliver Martin. SEE The cherry orchard. R70756. The lower depths; a drama in four acts. R70755. The Russian theatre. R66525. The three sisters; a drama in four acts. R70753. Tsar Fyodor Ivanovitch. R70754. SCARED, by William Hazlett Upson. (In Collier's) © William Hazlett Upson (A) Nov. 10, 1923 issue. © 6Nov23, B589400. R70028, 7Nov50. SCATTERGOOD APPRAISES THE PELT OF A SKUNK, by Clarence Budington Kelland. (In American magazine) © Clarence Budington Kelland (A) Dec. 1922 issue. © 24Oct22, B550263. R68179, 12Oct50. SCATTERGOOD BECOMES A PRIVATE DETECTIVE, by Clarence Budington Kelland. (In American magazine) © Clarence Budington Kelland (A) Mar. 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B568885. R68519, 16Oct50. SCHAEFFER, Mead. SEE And right in among those sharks was Queequeg ... R67340. Come along then, do come ... R67334. "D'ye mark him, Flask?" whispered Stubb. R67337. During the most violent shocks of the typhoon ... R67344. Foreboding shivers ran over me ... R67336. He raised a gull-like cry in the air. R67333. <pb id='323.png' /> I tore from her, and with a sudden bodily rush ... R67335. Ishmael tells the Town Ho's story. R67339. The Malays are after us. R67341. "Pull, pull, my fine hearts alive ..." R67338. Tashtego stood in the bows. R67342. "There is one God that is Lord over the earth ..." R67343. SCHAPIRO, Jacob Salwyn. SEE Modern and contemporary European history, 1815-1923. R71802. SCHELLING, Felix E. SEE Foreign influences in Elizabethan plays. R66247. SCHERMAN, Rita. SEE Berman, Rita (Scherman) SCHIRMER (G.) inc. SEE The art of writing opera-librettos. R64802. SCHLUMBERGER, Jean. SEE Le camarade infidele. R66910. SCHOCK, Georg. SEE The house of Yost. R67261. SCHÖNBERG, Arnold. SEE Erwartung. R69990. THE SCHOOL in the South. SEE The jolliest school of all. R68237. SCHOONOVER, Frank Earle. SEE The flamingo feather. R70403. Ivanhoe. R68956. King Arthur and his knights. R71671. SCHOULER, James. SEE Law of wills, executors and administrators. R64828 ... SCHREINER, Olive. SEE Stories, dreams and allegories. R71676. SCHREKER, Franz. SEE Irrelohe. R69991. SCHUBART, Frank. SEE Gebrauchsanweisung fur die Singer Nahmaschinen ... R65071. SCHULKERS, Robert France. SEE The red runners. R68683. SCHULTZ, James Willard. SEE The danger trail. R69676. Friends of my life as an Indian. R69690. SCHUYLER, Robert Livingston. SEE The Constitution of the United States: an historical survey of its formation. R69434. LA SCIENCE MYSTÉRIEUSE DES PHARAONS, par Théophile Moreux. © 5Jun23, AF22986. R64187, 10Jul50, Theophile Moreux (A) SCIENCE REMAKING THE WORLD. Edited by Otis W. Caldwell and Edwin E. Slosson. © 19Oct23, A765008. R68788, 23Oct50, Cora B. Caldwell (W) SCOTT, Evelyn. SEE Escapade. R65118. SCOTT, Mrs. Herbert. SEE Scott, Winifred Mary (Watson) SCOTT, J. S. SEE The bridal wreath. R64218. SCOTT, Sir Walter, bart. SEE Ivanhoe. R68956. <pb id='324.png' /> SCOTT, William Berryman. SEE Physiography. R66320. SCOTT, Winifred Mary (Watson) SEE Ann's an idiot. R69626. SCRIBNER'S (Charles) Sons. SEE Scribner's magazine. SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE. © Charles Scribner's Sons (PCW) v. 72, nos. 2-4. Aug.-Oct. 1922. © 28Jul22, B532558; 25Aug22, B534360; 26Sep22, B548264. R63986-63988, 29Jun50. v. 72, no. 5, Nov. 1922. © 28Oct22, B550615. R65675, 8Aug50. v. 72, no. 6, Dec. 1922. © 24Nov22, B552458. R68256, 13Oct50. v. 73 no. 1, Jan. 1923. © 26Dec22, B554749. R71090, 6Dec50. SCUDDER, Vida D. SEE Social ideals in English letters. R67400. SEAFARING IN FICTION, by William McFee. (In New York evening post) © William McFee (A) Oct. 6, 1923 issue. © 6Oct23, B561616. R68154, 11Oct50. SEALED FOR 50 YEARS, by Nicholas Silver [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Detective story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Dec. 9, 1922 issue. © 5Dec22, B553498. R64897, 31Jul50. SEA STORIES MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 5, nos. 1-5, May 5-July 5, 1923. © 4May23, B575470; 18May23, B576491; 5Jun23, B577567; 20Jun23, B578386; 5Jul23, B580284. R65475-65479, 10Aug50. SEA-TRACKS OF THE SPEEJACKS, ROUND THE WORLD, by Dale Collins; with an introd. by Jeanne Bouchet Gowen. © 27Jul23, A752749. R65416, 9Aug50, Dale Collins (A) SEAY, Noble H. SEE Report of cases argued and determined in the Supreme Court of Alabama during the October term, 1921-1922. R64310. SECKATARY Hawkins, pseud. SEE Schulkers, Robert France. A SECOND COURSE IN ALGEBRA, by Marquis J. Newell and George A. Harper. © 26Jan23, A696225. R70107, 13Nov50, Row, Peterson & Co. (PWH) SECOND-HAND LOVE, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 12Aug23, L19398. R68438, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SECOND HAND ROSE, a musical comedy in two acts by Rida Johnson Young. © 2Nov22, D62651. R68457, 17Oct50, William A. Schroeder (E) THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH, by William Shakespeare; edited by Tucker Brooke. (The Yale Shakespeare) © 23Nov23, A765196. R71867, 18Dec50, Grace Drakeford Brooke (W) SECOND VISION, by I. A. R. Wylie. (In Good housekeeping) © I. A. R. Wylie (A) Jan. 1924 issue. © 20Dec23, B604874. R72205, 22Dec50. THE SECOND YEAR, a comic tragedy of married life after the baby arrives. By Hilton Herbert Gropper and Oscar Hammerstein II. © 4Oct23, D65657. R69433, 6Nov50, Milton Herbert Gropper (A), Oscar Hammerstein II (A) <pb id='325.png' n='1950_h2/A/0109' /> THE SECOND YEAR, a play in one act by Milton Herbert Gropper. © 15Mar23, D63949. R67727, 29Sep50, Milton Herbert Gropper (A) THE SECRET OF WOMAN, by Helen Jerome. © 20Mar23, A704015. R67268, 18Sep50, Helen Jerome (A) SECRETS, a play by Rudolf Besier and May Edginton. © 12May23, D64457. R69553, 9Nov50, Mrs. Charlotte Besier (W) SEEING THE MIDDLE WEST, by John T. Faris. © 25Jul23, A759564. R71289, 6Dec50, John T. Faris (A) SELECTIONS FROM THE PROSE AND POETRY OF JOHN MILTON; edited by James Holly Hanford. © 10May23, A704649. R71797, 18Dec50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) SELLERS, James C. SEE Monaghan's cumulative annual digest of Pennsylvania decisions, 1922. R64313. SELLING HELPS FOR N. C. R. SALESMEN, by The National Cash Register Company. © 31Jul23, A756616. R70606, 24Nov50, The National Cash Register Co. (PWH) SELTZER, Charles Alden. SEE Brass commandments. R66113. The way of the buffalo. R65246. SELWYN-Brown, Arthur. SEE History of science. R66322. SEMI-ANNUAL MICHIGAN DIGEST. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) Jan. 1-June 30, 1923. © 27Aug23, A760934. R68275, 13Oct50. SENECA INDIAN MYTHS, by Jeremiah Curtin. © 29Jan23, A696345. R69273, 3Nov50, Jeremiah Curtin Cardell (E) DE SENECTUTE, by Alexander Weinstein. [In the New York freeman] © Alexander Weinstein (A) Aug 23, 1922 issue. © 16Aug22, B533734. R65278, 27Jul50. UN SENOR DE FRAC, comedia en 3 actos original de André Picard. Version Española de Miguel Mihura y Ricardo Gonzalez del Torro. © 30Dec22, D63827. R65637, 11Aug50, Jeronimo Mihura Santos (C of M. Mihura Alvarez) SERGEANT DICKS, by Lloyd Osbourne (In Woman's house companion) © Samuel Osbourne (C) Apr. 1914 issue. © 25Feb14, B298409. R72002, 22Dec50. SERVISS, Garrett P. SEE History of science. R66322. SERVOS, Launcelot Cressy. SEE The professional golfer. R66709. SETON, Ernest Thompson. SEE Bannertail. R65672. THE SEVEN AGES OF WOMAN, by Compton Mackenzie. © 15Jan23, A692919. R68240, 13Oct50, Compton Mackenzie (A) THE SEVEN MISSIONARIES, by "Sappar" [pseud. of H. C. McNeile] Illus. by W. R. S. Stott. (In Pearson's magazine) Ad interim title: A new Jim Maitland adventure. © Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) Mar. 1923 issue. © 30Aug23, (pub. abroad 6Mar23, AI-5014), A756584. R66658, 31Aug50. <pb id='326.png' /> THE SHADOWY THIRD AND OTHER STORIES, by Ellen Glasgow. Front. by Elenore Plaisted Abbott. © on "Jordan's end" and the work as one volume; 19Oct23, A760859. R68784, 23Oct50, First & Merchants National Bank of Richmond (E) SHAKESPEARE, William. SEE The second part of King Henry the Sixth. R71867. The second part of King Henry the Sixth. R71868. SHANE, Peggy (Smith) SEE The love legend. R65665. SHANKLIN, Frederick M. SEE The pig book for boys and girls. R68239. SHANKS, Edward. SEE Fate galante. R71647. SHAPIRO, Jacob. SEE Wedding Ring coffee. R71598. SHARP, Russell Alger. SEE The man without a country. R71801. SHE FINDS HER PLACE (Une petite main qui se place) A comedy in three acts by Sacha Guitry. Translated and adapted by George Middleton. © 14Mar23, D65935. R69549, 9Nov50, George Middleton (A) THE SHEER FOLLY OF PREACHING, by Alexander MacColl. © 21Sep23, A759153. R67701, 27Sep50, Alexander MacColl (A) THE SHEPHERD KING, a photoplay in nine reels by Fox Film Corp. © 10Dec23, L19868. R71788, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE SHEPHERDS FIND THE INFANT JESUS WITH HIS HOLY MOTHER AND ST. JOSEPH, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169956. R66980, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) SHERIDAN, Clare. SEE West and east. R67273. SHERIDAN, Jack. SEE Murder. R64005. SHERMAN, Stuart P. SEE Americans. R68254. The poetical works of Joaquin Miller. R64015. THE SHILLIN PIECE, a play by Laurence Eyre. © 11Oct23, D65708. R68527, 19Oct50, Laurence Eyre (A) SHIP LOADING, by American Bank Note Company. (C-1874) © 5Jul23, K177411. R64703, 25Jul50, American Bank Note Co. (PCB) SHIPLEY, Joseph T. SEE You and me. R67271. SHIPMAN, Benjamin J. SEE Handbook of common law pleading. R64355. SHIPMAN, Louis Evan. SEE Three comedies: On parole; The fountain of youth; Fools errant. R68455. SHORT MISSIONARY PLAYS, by Margaret T. Applegarth. © 29Aug23, A759154. R66672, 31Aug50, Margaret T. Applegarth (A) <pb id='327.png' /> SHORT STORIES. © Short Stories, inc. (PCW) v. 102, nos, 3-6, v. 103, nos. 1-6, v. 104, nos. 1-2, Feb. 10-July 25, 1923. © 10Feb23, B572488; 25Feb23, B572489; 9Mar23, B572603; 23Mar23, B574682; 10Apr23, B575008; 25Apr23, B575955; 10May23, B576887; 24May23, B578307; 9Jun23, B579175; 25Jun23, B579911; 10Jul23, B581049; 25Jul23, B582515. R66083-66094, 23Aug50. SHORT Stories, inc. SEE Short stories. SHOUTS AND MURMURS, by Alexander Woollcott. © 29Sep22, A683489. R63895, 6Jul50, Frode Jensen (E) SHUBERT (Lee & J. J.) SEE The buss. R64009. The critic. R64011. Fashion show. R64010. Murder. R64005. The remuddled house. R64006. Toot and come in. R64004. What happens when the state comes to market for fine art. R64007. SIEGFRIED ET LE LIMOUSIN, par Jean Giraudoux. (Les Cahiers verts, 14) © 3Nov22, AF21466. R65740, 1Aug50, Mme. vve. Jean Giraudoux, née Suzanne Roland (W) SIGNED ON THE RIND. (Ham and bacon) © 3Jan23, Print 6596. R67898, 2Oct50, The E. Kahn's Sons Co. (P) SILBERMANN, par Jacques de Lacretelle. © 30Oct22, AF21416. R66911, 12Sep50, Jacques de Lacretelle (A) LE SILENCE DE NADIA, par Jeanne de Coulomb [pseud. de Jeanne de Lagrandval] (Her Bibliothèque de ma fille) © 1Jul23, AF23312. R67732, 28Sep50, Madeleine de Lagrandval (NK) THE SILENT COMMAND, a photoplay in eight reels by Fox Film Corp. © 20Aug23, L19411. R68442, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE SILENT PARTNER, a photoplay in six reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 22Aug23, L19325. R69371, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) THE SILENT PARTNER, by Maximilian Foster. (In Saturday evening post) © Elizabeth D. Foster (W) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B568288. R71528, 14Dec50. Jan. 27, 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B568742. R71529, 14Dec50. Feb. 3, 1923 issue. © 1Feb23, B569183. R71530, 14Dec50. Feb. 10, 1923 issue. © 8Feb23, B569788. R71531, 14Dec50. SILENT SALESMAN. (Vending machine) © 11Oct23, Label 26758. R69979, 16Nov50, John Morris (P) SILVER, Nicholas, pseud. SEE Faust, Frederick. SIMON, Robert A. SEE Our little girl. R67267. SIMON CALLED PETER, a dramatization by Jules Eckert Goodman of Robert Keable's book. © 4Dec23, D66214. R71139, 6Dec50, Jules Eckert Goodman (A) SIMONT, Joseph. SEE Rufus. R67962. <pb id='328.png' n='1950_h2/A/0110' /> SIMPLIFIED NEW TESTAMENT; authorized version, by Daniel Austin Sommer. © 7Aug23, A752470. R71599, 13Dec50, D. A. Sommer (A) SINCLAIR, May. SEE Uncanny stories. R67642. SINGER MACHINE 16W11, six needles and one transverse sewing hook for ornamenting shoe uppers with parallel rows of lock stitching, by Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 9608, Dec. 1922) © 22Dec22, A693618. R65074, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) SINGER MACHINES 49K1, 49K2, 49K3 AND 49K4 FOR PLEATING AND KILTING APRONS, BLOUSES, SHIRTS, CORSETS [etc.], by Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 9602, Sept. 1922) © 13Oct22, A688114. R65065, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) THE SINGER Manufacturing Company. SEE The care and use of Singer sewing motors. R72244. Gebrauchsanweisung für die Singer Nahmaschinen ... R65071. Instructions for attaching Singer picot edge cutting attachment ... R65063. Instructions for using Singer hemstitching attachments 28915 and 28986 ... R65068. Instructions for using Singer sewing machines. R65066 ... Instructions pour l'emploi de la [sic] machines â coudre Singer nos. 127 et 128. R72238. Instruzioni per adoperare la macchina da cucire Singer ... R65072. Instruzioni per adoperare la [sic] macchinas da cucire Singer nos. 127 e 120. R72249. List[s] of parts. R65070 ... Singer machine 16W11 ... R65074. Singer machines 49K1, 49K2, 49K3 and 49K4 ... R65065. Singer picot edge cutting attachment 234734 ... R65064. SINGER PICOT EDGE CUTTING ATTACHMENT 234734 FOR USE IN CONNECTION WITH SINGER HEMSTITCHING MACHINES OF CLASS 72W, by Archibald Tregaskis. (Form 9600, Sept. 1922) © 10Oct22, A688038. R65064, 31Jul50, The Singer Manufacturing Co. (PWH) SINNERS IN HEAVEN, by Clive Arden [pseud. of Lily Clive Nutt] © 15Sep23, A760002. R67146, 18Sep50, Lily C. Nutt (A) SIR OR MADAM, by Berta Ruck; front. by Edward C. Caswell. © 16Feb23, A698400. R64970, 28Jul50, Berta Ruck Oliver (A) SIRENETTA; fantasia drammatica mimata e a ballo in VII quadri. Per Alessandro Varaldo. © 31Jan23, AF21945. R68510, 16Oct50, Alessandro Varaldo (A) SIRICH, Edward H. SEE Harper's French anthology. R68951. THE SISTERS RONDOLI AND OTHER STORIES, by Guy de Maupassant; translated by Ernest Boyd. (The collected novels and stories of Guy de Maupassant, v. 5) © 19Oct23, A760578. R71947, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) SIX characters in search of an author. SEE Three plays. R64631. <pb id='329.png' /> SIX CYLINDER LOVE, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 4Nov23, L19678. R71027, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SKID PROOF, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 1Aug23, L19471. R68449, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SKIN DEEP, a photoplay in 7 reels by Thomas H. Ince. © 30Aug22, L18179. R64865, 26Jul50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PWH) SKINNER, Ada M. SEE A very little child's book of stories. R67698. SKINNER, Eleanor L. SEE A very little child's book of stories. R67698. SKOOKUM CHUCK, by Stewart Edward White. (In Saturday evening post) © Harwood A. White (NK) Oct. 27, 1923 issue. © 25Oct23, B588566. R68899, 26Oct50. Nov. 3, 1923 issue. © 1Nov23, B588991. R69481, 3Nov50. Nov. 10, 1923 issue. © 8Nov23, B589499. R70038, 10Nov50. Nov. 17, 1923 issue. © 15Nov23, B590052. R70393, 20Nov50. Nov. 24, 1923 issue. © 22Nov23, B590885. R70598, 24Nov50. Dec. 1, 1923 issue. © 28Nov23, B603176. R71044, 29Nov50. Dec. 8, 1923 issue. © 6Dec23, B603754. R71378, 8Dec50. Dec. 15, 1923 issue. © 13Dec23, B604243. R71662, 15Dec50. Dec. 22, 1923 issue. © 20Dec23, B604725. R72202, 22Dec50. THE SKY-LINE INN, by Donal Hamilton Haines. © 18Apr23, A705162. R68920, 30Oct50, Donal Hamilton Haines (A) SLOSSON, Edwin E. SEE Science remaking the world. R68788. SLOW AND SURE, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Nov23, L19655. R71024, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SMALL, Sidney Herschel. SEE The lord of Thundergate. R64041 ... SMITH, Alpheus W. SEE The elements of applied physics. R67309. SMITH, Harry S. SEE Standard illustrated chart of the flag of the United States. R70232. SMITH, Henry Bradford. SEE How the mind falls into error; a brief treatment of fallacies for the general reader. R70406. SMITH, Henry Clapp. SEE Junk. R67120. SMITH, Jay Braisted Roe. SEE New Jersey corporation law. R68265. SMITH, Paul Gerard. SEE Bustin' in. R67332. The dizzy heights. R64480. En route. R67330. The spirit of seventy-five. R69368. Stop-look-listen. R67331. SMITH (Paul Gerard) inc. SEE Bustin' in. R67332. <pb id='330.png' /> The dizzy heights. R64480. Stop-look-listen. R67331. SMITH, William W. SEE The pig book for boys and girls. R68239. SMYTH, Dame Ethel Mary. SEE Féte galante. R71647. SMYTH, John Paterson. SEE The Bible for school and home. R66661 ... SNAKE DOCTOR AND OTHER STORIES by Irvin S. Cobb. © 20Jul23, A711282. R65125, 24Jul50, Laura Baker Cobb (W) SNELL, Roy Judson. SEE The cruise of the O Moo. R64253. Curlie Carson listens in. R65181. The desert patrol. R66431. THE SNIPSNOPS AND THE WOO-WOO BIRD, by Margaret Coligny. © 1Aug23, A760085. R65693, 14Aug50, Margaret Coligny (A) SO THIS IS LONDON, an English-American comedy in three acts by Arthur Goodrich and George M. Cohan. © 12Oct22, D62459. R67122, 14Sep50, Evelyn G. Lum (C of A. Goodrich), Eleanor W. Goodrich (C), Elizabeth G. Smith (C of A. Goodrich) SOCIAL IDEALS IN ENGLISH LETTERS, by Vida D. Soudder. New and enl. ed. © 14Dec22, A711193. R67400, 22Sep50, Vida D. Scudder (A) THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT, by Charles Conant Josey. © 15Sep22, A683290. R63984, 29Jun50, Charles C. Josey (A) SOFT BOILED, a photoplay in eight reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Aug23, L19378. R68437, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SOLLAR, F. SEE Phi-Phi. R70835. SOME BOYS AND GIRLS IN AMERICA, by Margaret T. Applegarth. © 29Aug23, A711817. R66669, 31Aug50, Margaret T. Applegarth (A) SOME NEWSPAPERS AND NEWSPAPERMEN, by Oswald Garrison Villard. © 21Sep23, A759163. R71939, 5Dec50, Henry H. Villard (C) SOMEBODY LIED, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 14Oct23, L19517. R71011, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SOMMER, Daniel Austin. SEE Simplified New Testament. R71599. SONEY and Sage Company. SEE New Jersey corporation law. R68265. SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE, by Amy Lowell. (In Harper's magazine) © Ada D. Russell (E) Nov. 1922 issue. © 25Oct22, B550368. R67902, 3Oct50. LE SONGE, roman, par Henry de Montherlant. © 1Dec22, AF21821. R65741, 1Aug50, Henry de Montherlant (A) SONGS OF CHALLENGE (an anthology) selected and arranged by Robert Frothingham. © 25Aug22, A681530. R65918, 22Aug50, Roy Stuart Frothingham (C) <pb id='331.png' n='1950_h2/A/0111' /> SONGS OF HOME, by James Whitcomb Riley; illustrated by Will Vawter. © on illus.; 20Mar23, A696915. R67956, 25Sep50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH) SONG-WRITING AND SONG-MAKING; a book of advice for the amateur composer. By Lucien G. Chaffin. © 13Jun23, A705855. R68910, 26Oct50, Ethel Balthaser (C) THE SOUL OF KOL NIKON, by Eleanor Farjeon. © 21Sep23, A759076. R71680, 14Dec50, Eleanor Farjeon (A) SOURICETTE, par Gyp [pseud. de la Comtesse de Martel de Janville] © 25Oct22, AF21116. R68405, 13Oct50, la Comtesse d'Hugues (née Nicole de Martel de Janville) (C) SOUTH CAROLINA FOREST, by Amy Lowell. (In Poetry) © Ada D. Russell (E) Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B552553. R67906, 3Oct50. SOUTH SEA LOVE, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 25Nov23, L19815. R71031, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) SOUTHEASTERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 116, nos. 2-7, Apr. 7-May 12, 1923. © 7Apr23, B574731; 14Apr23, B575591; 20Apr23, B575460; 27Apr23, B575834; 5May23, B576787; 12May23, B577214. R64422-64427, 10Jul50. v. 117, nos. 1-7, May 19-June 30, 1923. © 18May23, B577728; 25May23, B577977; 2Jun23, B578456; 8Jun23, B578752; 16Jun23, B579226; 22Jun23, B579688; 29Jun23, B580230. R64428-64434, 10Jul50. v. 117, nos. 8-10, July 7-21, 1923. © 7Jul23, B581087; 14Jul23, B581685; 21Jul23, B581686. R68363-68365, 13Oct50. v. 118, nos. 1-8, July 28-Sept. 29, 1923. © 28Jul23, B582190; 3Aug23, B582693; 27Aug23, B584516; 31Aug23, B584517; 8Sep23, B585620; 15Sep23, B586166; 22Sep23, B586688; 28Sep23, B586689. R68366-68373, 13Oct50. SOUTHEASTERN REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 115, Feb. 3-Mar. 24, 1923. © 7May23, A752275. R64435, 10Jul50. v. 116, Mar. 31-May 12, 1923. © 10Jul23, A760947. R68288, 13Oct50. v. 117, May 19-July 21, 1923. © 25Sep23, A760942. R68283, 13Oct50. SOUTHERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 95, nos. 5-12, Apr. 7-May 26, 1923. © 7Apr23, B574732; 12Apr23, B575592; 21Apr23, B575461; 27Apr23, B575835; 4May23, B576788; 11May23, B577215; 18May23, B577729; 25May23, B577978. R64436-64443, 10Jul50. v. 96, nos. 1-5, June 2-30, 1923. © 1Jun23, B578457; 8Jun23, B578753; 15Jun23, B579227; 22Jun23, B579689; 29Jun23, B580231. R64444-64448, 10Jul50. v. 96, nos. 6-10, July 7-Aug. 4, 1923. © 6Jul23, B581088; 13Jul23, B581687; 20Jul23, B581688; 27Jul23, B582191; 3Aug23, B582694. R68374-68378, 13Oct50. v. 97, nos. 1-6, Aug. 25-Sept. 29, 1923. © 27Aug23, B584518; 31Aug23, B584519; 7Sep23, B585284; 14Sep23, B586167; 21Sep23, B586690; 28Sep23, B586691. R68379-68384, 13Oct50. <pb id='332.png' /> SOUTHERN REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 94, Jan. 6-Mar. 3, 1923. © 16Apr23, A752273. R64449, 10Jul50. v. 95, Mar. 10-May 26, 1923. © 27Jul23, A760940. R68281, 13Oct50. SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 248, nos. 1-4, Apr. 4-25, 1923. © 3Apr23, B574118; 10Apr23, B574733; 17Apr23, B575462; 24Apr23, B575836. R64450-64453, 10Jul50. v. 249, nos. 1-4, May 2-23, 1923. © 2May23, B576303; 8May23, B576789; 15May23, B577730; 23May23, B577731. R64454-64457, 10Jul50. v. 250, nos. 1-4, May 30-June 20, 1923. © 29May23, B578458; 5Jun23, B578754; 12Jun23, B579228; 19Jun23, B579690. R64458-64461, 10Jul50. v. 251, no. 1, June 27, 1923. © 26Jun23, B580232. R64462, 10Jul50. v. 251, nos. 2-4, July 4-18, 1923. © 3Jul23, B580737; 11Jul23, B581089; 18Jul23, B581689. R68385-68387, 13Oct50. v. 252, nos. 1-4, July 25-Aug. 29, 1923. © 24Jul23, B582192; 31Jul23, B582695; 21Aug23, B584040; 29Aug23, B584520. R68388-68391, 13Oct50. v. 253, nos. 1-4, Sept. 5-26, 1923. © 4Sep23, B585285; 11Sep23, B585621; 19Sep23, B586168; 26Sep23, B586692. R68392-68395, 13Oct50. SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER. Five-volume digest. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 241-245. © 17May23, A752271. R64354, 10Jul50. SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, state series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 246, Feb. 7-28, 1923. © 11Apr23, A752260. R64463, 10Jul50. v. 247, Mar. 7-28, 1923. © 11May23, A752261. R64464, 10Jul50. v. 248, Apr. 4-25, 1923. © 5Jun23, A752262. R64465, 10Jul50. v. 249, May 2-May 23, 1923. © 19Jul23, A760941. R68282, 13Oct50. v. 250, May 30-June 20, 1923. © 28Aug23, A760944. R68285, 13Oct50. v. 251, June 27-July 18, 1923. © 15Sep23, A760945. R68286, 15Oct50. THE SPANISH DANCER, a photoplay in nine reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 17Oct23, L19503. R69379, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) SPARTAN. (Oranges) © 1Nov23, Label 27118. R70237, 20Nov50, Glendora Mutual Orange Assn. (P) SPEAKING OF OPERATIONS AND OTHER STORIES, by Irvin S. Cobb. (The works of Irvin S. Cobb) © 15Nov23, A766111. R70388, 20Nov50, Laura Baker Cobb (W) SPEARE, Dorothy. SEE The gay year. R67702. SPEARE, Florence Lewis. SEE The bride and the burglar. R71150. Jones versus Jones. R71149. The star gleams. R71146. SPENCER, Carita. SEE Daniell, Carita (Spencer) SPENCER, Edward W. SEE Manual of commercial law. R67953. SPERLING, I. I. SEE Cleveland Trust fortune founder. R69501. <pb id='333.png' /> THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-FIVE, by Paul Gerard Smith. © 8Sep23, D65432. R69368, 6Nov50, Paul Gerard Smith (A) THE SPIRIT OF THE FLOWERS, by Eda S. Doench. (726) © 22Jun23, K176189. R64073, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) SPOOKY HOLLOW, by Carolyn Wells. (A "Fleming Stone" detective story) © 25Jul23, A759562. R71288, 6Dec50, Bridgett Mary O'Connell (E) SPORT STORY MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 1, nos. 1-5, Sept. 8-Nov. 8, 1923. © 8Sep23, B584663; 22Sep23, B585842; 8Oct23, B587465; 22Oct23, B589078; 8Nov23, B589827. R70206-70210, 16Nov50. SPRING'S awakening. R67277. SEE Tragedies of sex. SPYRI, Johanna (Heusser) SEE Heidi. R69691. SQUIRE, Edward J. SEE Elements of graphic statics. R67312. SQUIRE, J. C. SEE Squire, Sir John Collings. SQUIRE, Sir John Collings. SEE American poems and others. R65126. STAMBOUL, drame lyrique en 4 actes et 5 tableaux. Le drame adapté par Pierre Frondais d'après le roman L'homme qui assassina, de Claude Farrère. Poème et musique de Edouard Tremisot. Partition chant et piano. © 14Dec22, D26397. R70836, 29Nov50, Edouard Tremisot (A) STANDARD ILLUSTRATED CHART OF THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES, depicting its origin and progressive development, by Harry S. Smith. © 8Oct23, A761326. R70232, 20Nov50, Harry S. Smith (A) STANSBURY, Dale F. SEE The commentaries on the law of contracts, cumulative supplement. R72191. STANTON, Benjamin F. SEE An introduction to economics. R70109. THE STAR GLEAMS, a community X-mas choral; by Florence Lewis Speare. © 20Dec22, A690996. R71146, 6Dec50, Florence Lewis Speare (A) STAR OF EARTH, by Morris Dallett. © 25Jan23, A698075. R72135, 11Dec50, Morris Dallett (A) STARLING, Lynn. SEE In his arms. R70063. STARLING, William Lynn. SEE Starling, Lynn. STARTING POINTS IN SOCIAL SCIENCE, by Albert Galloway Keller. © 25Sep23, A765121. R68502, 16Oct50, Albert Galloway Keller (A) STATIONERY monograms. R65713. SEE Modern stationery monograms. THE STEADFAST HEART, by Clarence Budington Kelland. (In Collier's) © Clarence Budington Kelland (A) Mar. 17, 1923 issue. © 13Mar23, B572864. R68579, 18Oct50. <pb id='334.png' n='1950_h2/A/0112' /> Mar. 24, 1923 issue. © 20Mar23, B572865. R68580, 18Oct50. Mar. 31, 1923 issue. © 27Mar23, B573383. R68581, 18Oct50. Apr. 7, 1923 issue. © 3Apr23, B573915. R68582, 18Oct50. Apr. 14, 1923 issue. © 10Apr23, B574385. R68583, 18Oct50. Apr. 21, 1923 issue. © 17Apr23, B574924. R68584, 18Oct50. Apr. 28, 1923 issue. © 24Apr23, B575406. R68585, 18Oct50. May 5, 1923 issue. © 1May23, B575932. R68586, 18Oct50. May 12, 1923 issue. © 8May23, B576507. R68587, 18Oct50. May 19, 1923 issue. © 15May23, B577016. R68700, 18Oct50. STEAM TURBINE PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE. Terrell Croft, editor [rev. by S. A. Tucker] 1st ed. © 7Mar23, A696909. R67307, 18Sep50, Lauree B. Croft (W) STEFANSSON, Vilhjalmur. SEE Hunters of the great north. R68007. STELLA DALLAS [a novel] by Olive Higgins Prouty. © 18Apr23, A705163. R67175, 11Sep50, Olive Higgins Prouty (A) STELLA DALLAS [a novel] by Olive Higgins Prouty. (In the American magazine) © Olive B. Prouty (A) Nov. 1922-May 1923 issues. © 25Sep22, B548129; 24Oct22, B550263; 24Nov22, B552493; 26Dec22, B554730; 25Jan23, B568885; 28Feb23, B571380; 27Mar23, B573614. R67176-67182, 11Sep50. A STEP FAMILY, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64977. R68470, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) THE STEP ON THE STAIR, by Anna Katharine Green. © 13Jan23, A692918. R71370, 8Dec50, Roland Rohlfs (C) STEPHEN CRANE; a study in American letters, by Thomas Beer; with an introd. by Joseph Conrad. © 31Oct23, A759989. R69479, 3Nov50, John Alexander Conrad (C) STEPHEN CRANE: a study in American letters, by Thomas Beer; with an introd. by Joseph Conrad. © 31Oct23, A759989. R71942, 5Dec50, Alice Beer (Sister) LA STEPPE ROUGE, par J. Kessel. © 7Nov22, AF21455. R66914, 12Sep50, Joseph Kessel (A) STEPPING FAST, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 13May23, L19146. R65955, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) STETTHEIMER, Ettie. SEE Love days (Susanna Moore's) R71050. STEUERMANN, Eduard. SEE Erwartung. R69990. STEVEN, F. A. SEE The vine and the branches. R70079. STEVENS, Wallace. SEE Harmonium. R71052. STEVENSON, Burton E. SEE The kingmakers. R67841. STEVENSON, John Alford. SEE Constructive salesmanship. R64982. Problems and projects in salesmanship. R68962. STEVENSON, Robert Louis. SEE The black arrow. R65673. <pb id='335.png' /> Catriona. R63979. The ebb-tide ... R71087. In the South Seas. R68252. Kidnapped. R63978. The master of Ballantrae. R65674. Memoir of Fleming Jenkin ... R65368. Memories and portraits ... R65367. The wrecker. R71088. The wrong box ... R68251. STEWART, Donald Ogden. SEE Aunt Polly's story of mankind. R70033. STEWART (U. S.) and Brother inc. SEE Cedar Creek steamed crabs. R68924. STIDGER, William Le Roy. SEE Henry Ford: the man and his motives. R71668. STINEMETZ, Morgan. SEE More jungle tales. Adventures in India. R67968. STONE, John Timothy. SEE Places of quiet strength and other sermons. R68948. STOP-LOOK-LISTEN, a play by Paul Gerard Smith. © 21Sep22, D61978. R67331, 20Sep50, Paul Gerard Smith, inc. (PWH) STORER, Edward. SEE Three plays. R64631. STORIES, DREAMS AND ALLEGORIES, by Olive Schreiner. © 22Mar23, A696925. R71676, 14Dec50, South Eastern Province Guardian Loan & Investment Co. (E) STORIES OF THE FIRST AMERICAN ANIMALS, by George Langford; illus. by Ty Mahon. © 10Sep23, A759876. R67283, 18Sep50, George Langford (A) THE STORY OF A BAD BOY, by Thomas Bailey Aldrich; illustrated by Harold M. Brett. (Riverside book shelf) © on illus.; 11Oct23, A760467. R69687, 9Nov50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) THE STORY OF MRS. TUBBS, by Hugh Lofting. © 14Sep23, A752956. R69622, 6Nov50, Josephine Lofting (W) THE STORY OF PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS, the conflict of the ages illustrated in the lives of holy men of old, by Ellen G. White. © on illus.; 7Nov22, A692078. R69602, 3Nov50, Review & Herald Publishing Assn. (PWH) THE STORY OF THE BIBLE, by Hendrik Willem Van Loon. © 10Oct23, A760383. R68180, 12Oct50, Helen C. Van Loon (W) THE STORY OF UTOPIAS, by Lewis Mumford; with an introd. by Hendrik Willem Van Loon. © 14Nov22, A690276. R64556, 5Jul50, Lewis Mumford (A) THE STRANGE CRIME OF JOHN BOULNOIS, by Gilbert K. Chesterton (In McClure's magazine) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Feb. 1913 issue. © 15Jan13, B261994. R71657, 13Dec50. THE STRANGER'S BANQUET, a photoplay in nine reels by Goldwyn Pictures Corp. © 31Dec22, L18551. R69934, 2Nov50, Loew's inc. (PWH) STREET, Julian Leonard. SEE Cross-sections. R67002. STREET and Smith Publications, inc. SEE Ainslee's. <pb id='336.png' /> Detective story magazine. Love story magazine. People's. The Popular magazine. Sea stories magazine. Sport story magazine. Top-notch magazine. Western story magazine. STREETS OF NIGHT, by John Dos Passos. © 9Nov23, A766123. R70035, 10Nov50, John Dos Passos (A) STRENUOUS AMERICANS, by Roy F. Dibble. © 9Nov23, A759878. R71175, 7Dec50, R. F. Dibble (A) STREUBEL, Ernest J. SEE Electricity and magnetism. R66316. STRINDBERG, Frida. SEE Jealousy; Enemies; The law of the savage. R71178. STROH, Grant. SEE His glory. R70078. STRONG, Leonard Alfred George. SEE Dublin days. R67272. STRUCTURAL MEMBERS AND CONNECTIONS, compiled by a staff of specialists. George A. Hool and W. S. Kinne, editors. [Rev. by R. R. Zipprodt and F. N. Menefee] © 18May23, A704631. R67310, 18Sep50, G. A. Hool (A) & W. S. Kinne (A) STRUNSKY, Simeon. SEE The haunted bookshop. R67210. STUBENRAUCH, A. V. SEE Horticulture for schools. R64300. STUDIES IN CLASSIC AMERICAN LITERATURE, by David Herbert Lawrence. © 27Aug23, A752904. R69074, 17Oct50, Frieda Lawrence (W) THE STUFF OF A MAN, by Harry Sinclair Drago. (In Action stories) © Harry Sinclair Drago (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Oct23, B588400. R68189, 12Oct50. STYLES OF THE TIMES, by Harold M. Florsheim. © 3Aug23, A755562. R70106, 13Nov50, The Florsheim Shoe Co. (PWH) SUCCESS, a play in 3 acts by A. A. Milne. © 10Jul23, D64994. R64180, 13Jul50, A. A. Milne (A) SUCCESS, a play in three acts by A. A. Milne. © 4Oct23, D66465. R68138, 11Oct50, A. A. Milne (A) SUN HUNTING, by Kenneth L. Roberts. © 24Nov22, A692157. R67954, 25Sep50, Kenneth L. Roberts (A) SUNFLOWER BRAND ROOFING. © 1Jun23, Label 26167. R71508, 13Dec50, Foster Lumber Co. (P) SUNSET WINS, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Apr. 7, 1923 issue. © 4Apr23, B573456. R69454, 1Nov50. SUPERIOR VIOLIN FINGERBOARD CHART, by Carl Fischer. © 12Jul23, A761084. R65996, 17Aug50, Carl Fischer, inc. (PWH) THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES; the golden age of the Supreme Court, by James M. Beck. Lectures 5 and 6 in the "Constitution of the United States." Special National Security League ed. of his Gray's Inn lectures. © 23Nov23, A766118. R70596, 27Nov50, Lilla Mitchell Beck (W) <pb id='337.png' n='1950_h2/A/0113' /> SUPREME COURT REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 43, no. 8, Mar. 1, 1923. © 1Mar23, B577217. R64466, 10Jul50. v. 43, nos. 11-16, Apr. 15-July 1, 1923. © 11Apr23, B575593; 2May23, B576304; 15May23, B577732; 1Jun23, B578563; 15Jun23, B579229; 29Jun23, B580233. R64467-64472, 10Jul50. v. 43, nos. 17-18, July 15-Aug. 1, 1923. © 16Jul23, B581690; 3Aug23, B582696. R68396-68397, 13Oct50. SUPREME COURT REPORTER. Permanent ed. (National reporter system, United States series) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 42, Nov. 1921-July 1922. © 7Jun23, A752267. R64473, 10Jul50. THE SURVIVAL OF MAN, by Oliver Lodge. New and enl. ed. © on new pref. & chapters 28-29; 12Mar20, A565235. R70136, 10Nov50, Oliver W. F. Lodge (C) SUZANNA, a romance of early California, by Harry Sinclair Drago; front. by G. W. Gage. © 15Nov22, A690595. R64869, 28Jul50, Harry Sinclair Drago (A) SWEET PEPPER, by Geoffrey McNeill Moss. © 23Apr23, (pub. abroad 15Jun23, AI-4867), A705269. R70599, 24Nov50, Geoffrey McNeill Moss (A) SWEETHEARTS AGAIN, a comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64978. R68471, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) SWINNERTON, Frank. SEE George Gissing; a critical study. R70389. R. L. Stevenson; a critical study. R70386. Young Felix. R69606. THE SWISS TWINS, by Lucy Fitch Perkins. © 7Nov22, A690127. R64989, 31Jul50, Eleanor Ellis Perkins (C) & Lawrence B. Perkins (C) SYRETT, Netta. SEE Cupid and Mr. Pepys. R71679. SZIKLA, A. SEE Anna Karenina. R67406. SZULC, Jósef Zygmint. SEE Flup. R70839. TAGEBÜCHER, von Theodor Herzl. © Hozaah Ivrith, ltd. (The Jewish Publishing House, ltd.) (PPW) Bd. 1. © 1Jul22, AF21701. R64002, 6Feb50. Bds. 2-3. © 1Jan23, AF24781. R64003, 6Feb50. TAGGART, Marion Ames. SEE The Holy Family are on their wearisome journey ... R66982. Led by a star, three holy kings ... R66981. The nativity of the Infant Jesus. R66977. St. John the Baptist and his parents. R66983. The shepherds find the Infant Jesus ... R66980. What a wonderful sight it was ... R66979. A woman of Bethlehem telling St. Joseph that she has no room ... R66978. <pb id='338.png' /> THE TAILOR, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 10Aug23, L19332. R68431, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) THE TALE OF THE ENCHANTED BUNNIES, by Ruth Sawyer. © 7Sep23, A711815. R68952, 30Oct50, Ruth Sawyer Durand (A) A TALE THAT IS TOLD, by Angelo Patri. (In Redbook magazine) © Angelo Patri (A) Sept. 1923 issue. © 23Aug23, B583934. R66532, 29Aug50. TALMAN, Charles Fitzhugh. SEE Meteorology. R66311. TAMELESS DAYS, a four part story, by Hugh Pendexter. (In Adventure magazine) © Helen F. Pendexter (W) Parts 1-4; Nov. 30-Dec. 30, 1922 issues. © 23Oct22, A649143; 1Nov22, A649454; 30Nov22, A650365; 30Nov22, A650594. R67810-67813, 2Oct50. TANGLEWOOD tales. SEE A wonder book and Tanglewood tales. R69686. DIE TANGOKONIGIN, Operette in 3 Akten von Julius Brammer und Alfred Grünwald, Musik von Franz Lehár Klavierauszug mit Text. © 11Nov21, D26334. R72254, 26Dec50, Dr. Otto Blau (E of F. Lehár), Dr. Siegfried Frankel (E of F. Lehár) TAPPAN'S BURRO AND OTHER STORIES, by Zane Grey; with illus. by Charles S. Chapman and Frank Street. © 26Oct23, A760574. R71667, 14Dec50, Lina Elise Grey (W) TARDIVAUX, René. SEE Boylesve, René. TARKINGTON, Booth. SEE The coincidence. R65644. How's your health? R69976. Magnolia. R70040. The midlander. R67971 ... The power of the press. R71660. THE TARN, by Hugh Walpole. (In Success) © Rupert Hart-Davis (E), F. A. S. Gwatkin (E) & Alan Bott (E) Oct. 1923 issue. © 18Sep23, B585471. R67377, 20Sep50. TARNISH, a play in three acts by Gilbert Emery [pseud. of Emery Pottle] © 19Sep22, D62296. R67136, 15Sep50, Michael Birmingham (E) TASHTEGO STOOD IN THE BOWS. He was full of the fire of the hunt. By Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169289. R67342, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) TAYLOR, Norman. SEE Botany. R66319. TAYLOR, Warner. SEE Representative English essays. R68963. TCHEKHOFF, Anton. SEE Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich. TEACHERS' HANDBOOK TO ACCOMPANY AGRICULTURE FOR SOUTHERN SCHOOLS, by John Frederick Duggar. Rev. ed. © 12Jun23, A705799. R70276, 22Nov50, Frances Duggar (C) & Dorothy Duggar (C) TECHNICAL AND SCIENTIFIC GERMAN, by E. V. Greenfield. Rev. ed. (Heath's modern language series) © 23Nov22, A692299. R67297, 20Sep50, E. V. Greenfield (A) <pb id='339.png' /> TECHNICAL MATHEMATICS, by Harry M. Keal, Nancy S. Phelps and Clarence J. Leonard. v. 3 (Cues technical high school series) © 22Mar23, A698786. R71096, 30Nov50, Harry M. Keal (A), Nancy S. Phelps (A) & Clarence J. Leonard (A) TECHNICAL WRITING, by T. A. Rickard. 2d ed. © 3Aug23, A711607. R71858, 19Dec50, T. A. Rickard (A) TEIXEIRA de Mattos, by Alexander Louis. SEE The life of the scorpion. R65124. TELLING FORTUNES BY CARDS, by Cicely Kent. © 26Jun22, (pub. abroad 26Nov21), A674775. R71654, 18Dec50, Marjorie Kent (E) & Agnes Kent (E) TELLING FORTUNES BY TEA LEAVES, by Cicely Kent. © 26May22, (pub. abroad 26Nov21), A674776. R71655, 18Dec50, Marjorie Kent (E) & Agnes Kent (E) TELS, Ellen, pseud. SEE Rabeneck, Elena. LA TEMPESTA, della comedia fantastica di W. Shakespeare. Opera in un prologo & tre atti di Arturo Rossato. Musica di Felice Lattuada. Canto & pianoforte. Riduzione di Giuseppe Ramella. © 9Dec22, D26386. R70813, 1Dec50, Guiseppe Ramella (A) THE TEMPLE OF VENUS, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 11Nov23, L19690. R71028, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) TEMPTATION, by Eda S. Doench. (723) © 22Jun23, K176193. R64077, 14Jul50, Gutmann & Gutmann, inc. (PWH) TEMPTATION, by Joe Brandt. © 5Dec22, A693232. R70806, 1Dec50, Columbia Pictures Corp. (PWH) TENGGREN, Gustaf. SEE Heidi. R69691. A wonder book and Tanglewood tales. R69686 THE TENTH WOMAN, by Harriet T. Comstock; front, by George W. gage. © 18May23, A704636. R67371, 22Sep50, Samuel B. Williams (E of Harriet T. Comstock) TEODORA THE SAGE, by Luigi Lucatelli; Morris Bishop, translator. © 2Mar23, A698576. R67266, 18Sep50, Morris Bishop (A) TERHUNE, Albert Payson. SEE The pest. R69272. TERRY, Thomas Philip. SEE Terry's guide to Mexico. R69388. TERRY'S GUIDE TO MEXICO, by T. Philip Terry. Rev. ed. © 15Dec22, A696077. R69388, 7Nov50, Robert C. Terry (C) TEXAS AND SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER DIGEST. (American digest system of the U. S.) © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 1. © 31Aug23, A760946. R68287, 13Oct50. TEXAS DECISIONS REPORTED IN THE SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER. © West Publishing Co. (PWH) v. 244-245, Nov. 1922-Jan. 1923. © 19Apr23, A752252. R64474, 10Jul50. v. 246-247, Feb.-Mar. 1923. © 15Jun23, A752253. R64475, 10Jul50. TEXAS DECISIONS REPORTED IN THE SOUTHWESTERN REPORTER ANNOTATED, v. 248-249, Apr.-May, 1923. © 14Sep23, A760943. R68284, 13Oct50, West Publishing Co. (PWH) <pb id='340.png' n='1950_h2/A/0114' /> TEXTILE FABRICS, by Elizabeth Dyer; with a foreword by W. W. Charters. © 6Mar23, A698748. R71507, 13Dec50, Elizabeth Dyer (A) THARP, Robert C. SEE The cousin from nowhere. R66176. THAT NIGHT: THE VANDERVENTER MANSION, by Kathleen Norris. (In Cosmopolitan) © Kathleen Norris (A) Sept. 1923 issue. © 10Aug23, B583065. R65646, 11Aug50. THAT PIG MORIN AND OTHER STORIES, by Guy de Maupassant. Edited and translated by Ernest Boyd. (The collected novels and stories of Guy de Maupassant, v. 3) © 19Apr23, A705388. R71275, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) THAYER, William Roscoe. SEE George Washington. R67232. THEATRE complet. R68410. SEE Les avaries; Les Hannetons ... THÉNON, Georges. SEE La triste aventure de M. Corniquet. R71092. "THERE IS ONE GOD THAT IS LORD OVER THE EARTH, AND ONE CAPTAIN THAT IS LORD OVER THE PEQUOD-ON DECK!" by Mead Schaeffer. [Illus., in Moby Dick, by Herman Melville] © 14Oct22, K169290. R67343, 22Sep50, Mead Schaeffer (A) THERMODYNAMICS AND THE FREE ENERGY OF CHEMICAL SUBSTANCES, by Gilbert Newton Lewis and Merle Randall. 1st ed. © 22Mar23, A696910. R67308, 18Sep50, Mary Lewis (W) & Merle Randall (A) THESE UNITED STATES, a symposium; Ernest Gruening, editor. (First series) © 5May23, A705629. R67278, 18Sep50, Ernest Gruening (A) THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH, by William Shakespeare; edited by Tucker Brooke. (The Yale Shakespeare) © 23Nov23, A765197. R71868, 18Dec50, Grace Drakeford Brooke (W) THE THIRD ROUND, by "Sapper" [pseud. of H. C. McNeile] (Pub. abroad in the Sovereign magazine, in U. S. in McClure's magazine. Illus. in U. S. installments by Marshall Frantz) © Violet Evelyn McNeile (W) Adventure 1 (Chapters 1-2) June 1923 issue (Sovereign) Sept. 1923 issue (McClure's) © 25Aug23, (pub. abroad 16May23, AI-5183), A717058. R66657, 31Aug50. Adventure 2, July 1923 issue (Sovereign), Oct. 1923 issue (McClure's) © 25Sep23, (pub. abroad 14Jun23, AI-5261), A717059. R67530, 26Sep50. Adventures 3-4 Aug.-Sept. 1923 issues (Sovereign), Nov. 1923 issue (McClure's) © 25Oct23, (pub. abroad 18Jul23, AI-5352; 16Aug23, AI-5420), A717060. R69478, 3Nov50. Adventures 5-6, Oct.-Nov. 1923 issues (Sovereign), Dec. 1923 issue (McClure's) © 25Nov23, (pub. abroad 18Sep23, AI-5490; 18Oct23, AI-5568), A719450. R71037, 29Nov50. Adventures 7-8, Dec. 1923 issue (Sovereign), Jan. 1924 issue (McClure's) © 25Dec23, (pub. abroad 1Jun23, AI-5229), A720942. R72049, 27Dec50. THIRTEEN, a book of poems, by David Thorne. © 27Apr23, A704716. R63885, 3Jul50, David Thorne (A) THIS FREEDOM, a photoplay in seven reels by Fox Film Corp. © 18Nov23, L19790. R71030, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) <pb id='341.png' /> THOMAS, A. E. SEE The French doll. R65692. THOMAS, Albert Ellsworth. SEE The black flag. R70246. The champion. R70243. Hayseed. R70245. Only thirty eight. R70244. THOMPSON (Edward) Company. SEE Federal statutes annotated; supplement, 1922. R64312. New York law of wills. R64318. THOMPSON, Fred. SEE The cousin from nowhere. R66176. THOMPSON, Harlan. SEE Little Jessie James. R64494. THOMPSON, Lilian Bennet-. SEE In the dark. R67119. A narrow squeak. R67121. THORNE, David. SEE Minerva. R64037. Thirteen. R63885. THOSE WHO DANCE, by George Kibbe Turner. (In Everybody's magazine) © George Kibbe Turner (A) Nov. 1922 issue. © 9Oct22, B549168. R68097, 6Oct50. THREE COMEDIES, by Louis Evan Shipman, Contents.--On parole.--The Fountain of Youth--Fools errant. © 25Sep23, A759129. R68455, 17Oct50, Lucille Watson Shipman (W) THREE OF THEM, a chat about snakes and zebus, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (In Everybody's magazine) © Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) Sept. 1918 issue. © 23Aug18, A519501. R65931, 15Aug50. THREE PLAYS, by Luigi Pirendello; translated by Arthur Livingston and Edward Storer. Contents.--Six characters in search of an author.--"Henry IV".--Right you are! (If you think so) © 15Nov22, A690352. R64631, 20Jul50, Stefeno Pirendello (PWH), Fausto Pirendello (PWH) & Lietta Pirendello (PWH) THE THREE SISTERS; a drama in four acts, by Anton Tchekhoff. Translated by Jennie Cevan. Edited by Oliver M. Sayler. (The Russian Moscow Art Theatre series of Russian plays, v. 4) © 1Dec22, A697384. R70753, 30Nov50, Coward-McCann, inc. (PWH) THREE WONDER PLAYS, by Lady [Isabella Augusta (Perese)] Gregory. Contents.--The dragon.--Aristotle's bellows.--The jester. © 17Nov22, A692040. R67118, 14Sep50, Richard Graham Gregory (NK), Anne Gregory (NK) & Catherine F. Kennedy (NK) THRIFTY STOCK, by Ben Ames Williams. (In McCall's magazine) © Ben Ames Williams (A) May 1923 issue. © 10Apr23, B574281. R71876, 22Dec50. THROCKMORTON, Archibald H. SEE Handbook of equity jurisprudence. R64356. Illustrative cases on equity jurisprudence. R64357. THROUGH SPAIN AND PORTUGAL, by Ernest Peixotto. © 20Oct22, A686432. R68244, 13Oct50, Mary H. Peixotto (W) THROUGH THE YEAR WITH EMERSON, by Blanche Chenault Junkin. © 11Nov23, A771788. R71977, 14Dec50, Blanche Chenault Junkin (A) <pb id='342.png' /> TICKNOR, Caroline. SEE Glimpses of authors. R66905. TIDE, a play in three acts by Wilson Collison. © 14Jun23, D64813. R70510, 27Nov50, Anzonetta Collison Atherton (W) THE TIDE COMES IN, by Clement Wood © 15Feb23, A696541. R71380, 8Dec50, Gloria Goddard Wood (W) TILLIE THE TOILER, by King Features Syndicate, inc. [as employer for hire of Russ Westover] © 17Dec22, B5-15113. R67546, 6Sep50, King Features Syndicate, inc. (PWH) TIMES HAVE CHANGED, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 7Sep23, L19447. R68447, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) TIN GODS, a new play by William Anthony McGuire. © 7Aug23, D65208. R69222, 2Nov50, Mrs. Lou McGuire (W) TINY SKIMS THE CREAM, by Sam Hellman. (In the Saturday evening post) © Sam Hellman (A) Sept. 9, 1922 issue. © 7Sep22, B534907. R65506, 1Aug50. TITUS, Harold. SEE The beloved pawn. R68148. TOASTMASTER Products Division, McGraw Electric Company. SEE McGraw Electric Company. Toastmaster Products Division. THE TOCSIN OF REVOLT; and other essays, by Brander Matthews. © 15Sep22, A683365. R63985, 29Jun50, Nelson Macy, Jr. (NK) TODAY'S DAUGHTER, by Angelo Patri. (In Redbook magazine) © Angelo Patri (A) Jan. 1924 issue. © 23Dec23, B606765. R72051, 27Dec50. TODD, David. SEE Astronomy. R66312. TODD (E. M.) Company, inc. SEE Todd's old Virginia hams. R67735. TODD'S OLD VIRGINIA HAMS. © 2Jan23, Label 25922. R67735, 29Sep50, E. M. Todd Co., Inc. (P) TOEWEAR Hosiery, Inc. SEE Little Boy Blue. R64083. TOI et moi. R67271. SEE You and me. TOM THUMB: a ballad arrangement for young children, by Charles Stuart McLeod; with illus. from original drawings by Margaret Campbell Hoopes. © 22Aug23, A755658. R72284, 28Dec50, The Platt & Munk Co., Inc. (PWH) TOLSTOI, Aleksei Konstantinovich, graf. SEE Tsar Fyodor Ivanovitch. R70754. TOM MASSON'S ANNUAL FOR 1923; edited by Thomas L. Masson. © 26Oct23, A765205. R69260, 27Oct50, Fannie Zulette Masson (W) TOMLINSON, Everett T. SEE The mystery of Ramapo Pass. R67239. TOMORROW ABOUT THIS TIME, by Grace Livingston Hill. © 1Jun23, A711389. R71285, 6Dec50, Ruth H. Munce (C) & Margaret L. Walker (C) TOOMER, Jean. SEE Cane. R67280. TOOT AND COME IN, a play in 1 act, by Helena Smith Dayton. © 24May23, D64592. R64004, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) <pb id='343.png' n='1950_h2/A/0115' /> TOP-NOTCH MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 54, nos. 1-6, v. 55, no. 1, May 1-Aug. 1, 1923. © 1May23, B575471; 15May23, B576492; 1Jun23, B577568; 15Jun23, B578387; 29Jun23, B579458; 13Jul23, B581079; 1Aug23, B582198. R65480-65486, 10Aug50. v. 55. nos. 2-6, Aug. 15-Oct. 15, 1923. © 15Aug23, B583437; 1Sep23, B584300; 15Sep23, B585377; 1Oct23, B586443; 15Oct23, B587466. R70211-70215, 16Nov50. v. 56, no. 1, Nov. 1, 1923. © 1Nov23, B589079. R70216, 16Nov50. TOPSY AND EVA, a comedy with music by Catherine Chisholm Cushing. [Text only] © 27Oct23, D65868. R69229, 2Nov50, Catherine Chisholm Cushing (A) THE TOREADOR, by George F. Pierrot. (In the American boy) © George F. Pierrot (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 25Sep23, B586387. R67534, 26Sep50. A TOREADOR OF SPAIN, by Francis Rolt-Wheeler; illustrated by C. A. Federer. © 21Sep23, A759151. R67700, 27Sep50, Francis Rolt-Wheeler (A) THE TOWER OF OBLIVION, by Oliver Onions [pseud. of George Oliver] © 18Nov21, (pub. abroad 28Oct21), A630372. R71875, 21Dec50, George Oliver (A) TOWN AND GOWN, by Lynn Montross and Lois Seyster Montross. © 25Jan23, A696290. R70031, 10Nov50, Lynn Montross (A) TRAGEDIES OF SEX, by Frank Wodekind; translation and introd. by Samuel A. Eliot, jr. Contents.--Spring's awakening.--Earth spirit.--Pandora's box.--Damnation. © 11May23, A705627. R67277, 18Sep50, Samuel A. Eliot, jr. (A) THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT, by Emilie Loring; front. by W. V. Chambers. © 2Oct22, A686095. R65220, 3Aug50, Emilie Loring (A) THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN, by H. A. Cody. © 21Sep23, A759160. R67703, 27Sep50, Mrs. H. A. Cody (W) THE TRAIL OF THE MOULDERING OX, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) Sept. 23, 1923 issue. © 23Sep23, A715030. R68089, 6Oct50. TRAIN, Arthur Cheney. SEE The cloak of St. Martin. R69497. Desert rubaiyat. R69499 ... Fork in the road. R69494. Her crowded hour. R69498. The poisner. R69496. Tut! Tut! Mr. Tutt. R69493. Tutt-tutt, Mr. Tutt. R69495. TRAIN, Ethel (Kissam) SEE Fork in the road. R69494. TRAINING FOR POWER AND LEADERSHIP, by Granville Kleiser. © 20Jul23, A711285. R65127, 24Jul50, Granville Kleiser (A) THE TRAITOR, by Baroness Orczy. Pub. abroad in Cassell's magazine of fiction, May 1912 issue. © 19Jun12, (pub. abroad 29Apr12, AI-1108), A313968. R71036, 30Nov50, John Montague Orczy-Barstow (C) <pb id='344.png' /> TRAMPING AND CAMPING, by Enos A. Mills. (In the Classmate) © Esther B. Mills (W) Sept. 22, 1923 issue. © 14Aug23, B583581. R65984, 15Aug50. TRAVEL TALES OF A PLANT COLLECTOR, by E. H. Wilson. (In the Garden magazine) © Muriel Wilson Slate (C) Part 8. Aug. 1923 issue. The Orient, ancient mother of today's garden. © 24Jul23, A712783. R64972, 26Jul50. Part 9. Sept. 1923 issue. China, the kingdom of flowers. © 24Aug23, A713913. R66528, 29Aug50. Part 10. Oct. 1923 issue. Japan, the land of cherry bloom. © 26Sep23, A715746. R67958, 6Oct50. Part 11. Nov. 1923 issue. The tropics of the Old World. © 29Oct23, A717519. R69243, 31Oct50. TREACHEROUS LOVE, by Barrett Willoughby [i. e. Florence (Barrett) Willoughby] (In the Chicago daily tribune) Original title: Where the sun swings north. © Barrett Willoughby (A) Installments 47-49: July 28-29, 31, 1922 issues. © 28Jul22, A644680; 29Jul22, A644688; 31Jul22, A645003. R64557-64559, 16Jun50. Installments 50-58; Aug. 1-5, 7-10, 1922 issues. © 1Aug22, A645016; 2Aug22, A644994; 3Aug22, A645018; 4Aug22, A645021; 5Aug22, A645194; 7Aug22, A645192; 8Aug22, A645190; 9Aug22, A645273; 10Aug22, A645271. R64843-64851, 26Jul50. Installment 61; Aug. 14, 1922 issue. © 14Aug22, A645583. R64852, 26Jul50. Installment 64; Aug. 11, 1922 issue. © 11Aug22, A645407. R64853, 26Jul50. A TREATISE ON THE LAW OF CRIMINAL EVIDENCE, by H. C. Underhill; 3d ed., rev., extended and enlarged by Samuel Grant Gifford and editorial staff, The Bobbs-Merrill Company. © 9Jun23, A705930. R63917, 19Jun50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH) A TREATISE ON THE LAW OF MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE, by Frank H. Keezer. 2d ed., rev. © 24Oct23, A760739. R72190, 26Dec50, The Bobbs-Merrill Co., inc. (PWH) TREGASKIS, Archibald. SEE Instructions for attaching Singer picot edge cutting attachment ... R65063. Instructions for using Singer hem-stitching attachments 28915 and 28986 ... R65068. Instructions for using Singer sewing machines. R65066 ... Instruzioni per adoperare la [sic] macchinas da cucire Singer nos. 127 e 128. R72249. Singer machine 16W11 ... R65074. Singer machines 49K1, 49K2, 49K3 and 49K4 ... R65065. Singer picot edge cutting attachment 234734 ... R65064. TREMISOT, Edouard. SEE Stamboul. R70836. TRIFLING WOMEN, a photoplay in nine reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 13Nov22, L18406. R69932, 2Nov50, Loew's inc. (PWH) TRINKS, Willibald. SEE Industrial furnaces. R71097. <pb id='345.png' /> LA TRISTE AVENTURE DE M. CORNIQUET, feerie en 2 tableaux par Rip & Briquet. © 8Sep19, D52786. R71092, 28Nov50, Germáine Godillon, vve Briquet (W) TRIUMPH, by May Edginton [i. e., Helen Marion Edginton] (In Saturday evening post) © May Edginton (A) Mar. 24, 1923 issue. © 23Mar23, B572927. R71203, 8Dec50. Mar. 31, 1923 issue. © 30Mar23, B573486. R71204, 8Dec50. Apr. 7, 1923 issue. © 7Apr23, B573966. R71205, 8Dec50. Apr. 14, 1923 issue. © 14Apr23, B574504. R71206, 8Dec50. Apr. 21, 1923 issue. © 21Apr23, B574983. R71207, 8Dec50. THE TRIUMPH OF A MODERN, by Sherwood Anderson. (In the New republic) © Eleanor Copenhaver Anderson (W) Jan. 31, 1923 issue. © 25Jan23, B569935. R64026, 10Jul50. A TROPICAL ROMEO, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 17Jun23, L19248. R65958, 17Aug50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) TROSTEL, Helen (Cogswell) SEE The Radiotikes. R67801. TRUE AS STEEL, by Rupert Hughes. (In Cosmopolitan) © Rupert Hughes (A) Dec. 1923 issue. © 10Nov23, B589700. R71293, 5Dec50. TRUTH O' WOMEN: last words from ladies long vanished, by Josephine Daskam Bacon. © 28Sep23, A759197. R72267, 28Dec50, Josephine Deskam Bacon (A) TSAR FYODOR IVANOVITCH; a play in five acts, by Count Alexei Tolstoy. Translated by Jennie Covan. Edited by Oliver M. Sayler. (The Moscow Art Theatre series of Russian plays, v. 1) © 1Dec22, A697385. R70754, 30Nov50, Coward-McCann, inc. (PWH) TUCKER, S. A. SEE Steam turbine principles and practice. R67307. TUCKERMAN, Arthur. SEE The god of gentlemen. R64577. TUFTS, James H. SEE Education and training for social work. R69491. TULIPS AND CHIMNEYS, by E. E. Cummings. © 25Oct23, A759715. R70024, 13Nov50, E. E. Cummings (A) TULLAR-MEREDITH Company. SEE The haymow news. R68724. TUMBLEWEEDS, by Hal G. Evarts, with front. by W. H. D. Koerner. © 2Jan23, A692793. R70101, 6Nov50, Sylvia A. Evarts (W) TURNER, Edward Raymond. SEE Europe, 1450-1789. R67209. Problems after the war and the European countries after the war. R70594. TURNER, George Kibbe. SEE Those who dance. R68097. TURNER, John Hastings. SEE Lilies of the field. R64179. TURNER, Margaret (Wilson) SEE The able McLaughlins. R68964. TURPIN, Fay. SEE The friendly adventures of Ollie Ostrich. R67966. <pb id='346.png' n='1950_h2/A/0116' /> TUSOLI, Francois Marie Alexandre Carcopino. SEE Carco, Francis. TUT! TUT! MR. TUTT, by Arthur C. Train. © 14Sep23, A752941. R69493, 8Nov50, Helen C. Train (W) TUTT-TUTT, MR. TUTT. By Arthur C. Train. (In Saturday evening post) © Helen C. Train (W) Jan. 20, 1923 issue. © 18Jan23, B568288. R69495, 8Nov50. TWAIN, Mark, pseud. SEE Clemens, Samuel Langhorne. TWAIN (Mark) Company. SEE Mark Twain Company. TWEEDSMUIR, John Buchan, Baron. SEE Buchan, John. TWELVE TESTS OF CHARACTER, by Harry Emerson Fosdick. © 30Nov23, A765252. R71038, 1Dec50, Harry Emerson Fosdick (A) TWELVE TESTS OF CHARACTER, by Harry Emerson Fosdick. (In the Ladies home journal) © Harry Emerson Fosdick (A) July 1923 issue. © 30Jun23, B580025. R64493, 3Jul50. Sept. 1923 issue. © 31Aug23, B584417. R66790, 6Sep50. Oct. 1923 issue. © 29Sep23, B586597. R67972, 6Oct50. TWENTIETH Century-Fox Film Corporation. SEE Alias the night wind. R68434. Apple sauce. R65956. Arabia's last alarm. R71023. Big Dan. R71012. The boss of camp four. R65951. Boston Blackie. R65954. Bucking the barrier. R65952. Cameo Kirby. R71015. Circus pals. R65957. Cupid's fireman. R71785. The cyclist. R68452. Dance or die. R68446. Does it pay? R68441. The eleventh hour. R68443. The exiles. R71016. The explorers. R68453. Full speed ahead. R68450. Gentle Julia! R71783. The Grail. R68428. The gunfighter. R68429. Hell's hole. R65959. Hoodman blind. R71025. If winter comes. R65960. The income tax collector. R71029. Jungle pals. R68432. Kentucky days. R71026. The Lone Star Ranger. R71010. The man who won. R68433. Mile-a-minute romeo. R71022. The monkey farm. R68451. A monkey mixup. R71017. Monks a la mode. R71018. Monna Vanna. R68436. The net. R71014. No mother to guide her. R71786. North of Hudson Bay. R68448. The rainstorm. R68430. The riding master. R71787. The roaring lion. R71013. Roaring lions on a steamship. R65953. <pb id='347.png' /> Rough sailing. R71019. St. Elmo. R68435. Second-hand love. R68438. The shepherd king. R71788. The silent command. R68442. Six cylinder love. R71027. Skid proof. R68449. Slow and sure. R71024. Soft boiled. R68437. Somebody lied. R71011. South Sea lore. R71031. Stopping fast. R65955. The tailor. R68431. The temple of Venus. R71028. This freedom. R71030. Times have changed. R68447. A tropical Romeo. R65958. The two Johns. R68440. Up in the air. R68439. The unreal news reel. R68445. Wet and weary. R71021. When odds are even. R71020. Why pay rent. R68444. William Fox presents to exhibitors everywhere a combination of special attractions ... R65950. You can't get away with it. R71784. TWO GOOD PATRIOTS, by Baroness Orczy. Pub. abroad in Printer's pie. © 5Jul12, (pub. abroad 13May12, AI-1124), A318160. R71036, 30Nov50, John Montague Orczy-Barstow (C) THE TWO JOHNS, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 2Sep23, L19400. R68440, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) TWO LIVES, a poem, by William Ellery Leonard. © 27Apr23, A752023. R64252, 7Jul50, Charlotte Charlton Leonard (W) TWO PERSONS, an incident and an epilogue, by Edward W. Bok. © 20Oct22, A686426. R65669, 8Aug50, Mary Louise Curtis Zimbalist (W) TWO SIXES, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Mar. 17, 1923 issue. © 14Mar23, B572525. R69455, 1Nov50. TWO TOUGH TENDERFEET, a photoplay in two reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 10Oct23, L19513. R69380, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) TWO YEARS IN THE FRENCH WEST INDIES, by Lafoadio Hearn. Illus. from photographs and foreword by Arthur W. Rushmore. © 28Sep23, A760121. R68965, 30Oct50, Arthur W. Rushmore (A) UKRIDGE ROUNDS A NASTY CORNER, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Jan. 1924 issue. © 10Dec23, B604161. R71790, 13Dec50. UKRIDGE SEES HER THROUGH, by P. G. Wodehouse. (In Cosmopolitan) © P. G. Wodehouse (A) Sept. 1923 issue. © 10Aug23, B583065. R65647, 11Aug50. ULIMAN, Berthold Louis. SEE Elementary Latin. R70720. ULUG BEG, an epic poem, comic in intention. By Autolycus [i. e., Leonard Bacon] © 20Nov23, A765193. R71327, 12Dec50, Leonard Bacon (A) <pb id='348.png' /> THE UNATTAINABLE, a farce in three acts by W. Somerset Maugham. © 11Dec23, D22390. R71793, 13Dec50, W. Somerset Maugham (A) UNCANNY STORIES, by May Sinclair; illus. by Jean de Bosschère. © 25Sep23, A759128. R67642, 26Sep50, Harold Lumley St. Clair Sinclair (Nephew) & Mrs. W. McNeile (Niece) UNDER HIS SHIRT, by Max Brand [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Jan. 27, 1923 issue. © 24Jan23, B568387. R67878, 2Oct50. UNDERHILL, H. C. SEE A treatise on the law of criminal evidence. R63917. UNDRESSED KIDS, a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64980. R68473, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) UNDSET, Sigrid. SEE The bridal wreath. R64218. UNEDUCATING MARY, by Kathleen Norris. (Famous authors series, no. 30) © 19Dec23, A778569. R71928, 21Dec50, Kathleen Norris (A) U. S. Oil Company. SEE The perfect Perfectol motor oil. R70719. UNIVERSAL SONG, by Frederick H. Haywood. 5th ed. Rev. v. 1. © 6Jun23, A709219. R71843, 18Dec50, Frederick H. Haywood (A) THE UNREAL NEWS REEL, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 24Aug23, L19440. R68445, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) UNTI, Orlando. SEE Blessed Mother. R70985. UP AND AT 'EM, a photoplay in 5 reels by Film Booking Offices of America, inc. © 6Aug22, L18188. R64517, 11Jul50, RKO Radio Pictures, inc. (PWH) UP IN THE AIR, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 9Sep23, L19399. R68439, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) UPSON, William Hazlett. SEE Scared. R70028. VAERTING, Mathias. SEE The dominant sex. R65128. VAERTING, Mathilda. SEE The dominant sex. R65128. VALENTINO, Rudolph. SEE Day dreams. R65609. VALIANT DUST, by Katharine Fullerton Gerould. © 10Nov22, A686946. R68246, 13Oct50, Gordon Hall Gerould (E) THE VALLEY OF GHOSTS, by Edgar Wallace. © 25Sep23, (pub. abroad 15Jun22), A759182. R67531, 26Sep50, Patricia Marion Caldecott Frere (C) VALLEY OF SILENT MEN, a photoplay in seven reels by International Film Service Co., inc. © 6Sep22, L18253. R66175, 16Aug50, Cosmopolitan Corp. (PWH) VAN DOREN, Carl Clinton. SEE The fortunes and misfortunes of the famous Moll Flanders. R71940. <pb id='349.png' n='1950_h2/A/0117' /> VAN DYKE, Henry. SEE Companionable books. R65664. VAN DYKE, Paul. SEE Catherine de Medicis. R68249. VAN LOON, Hendrik Willem. SEE The story of the Bible. R68180. The story of Utopias. R64556. VAN TYNE, Claude Halstead. SEE The causes of the War of Independence R65505. VAN VECHTEN, Carl. SEE The blind bow-boy. R66482. My musical life. R71941. VANITY FAIR. © The Conde Nast Publications inc. (PCW) v. 19, nos. 5-6, Jan.-Feb. 1923. © 20Dec22, B568088; 23Jan23, B568838. R69515-69516, 8Nov50. v. 20, nos. 1-6, Mar.-Aug. 1923. © 21Feb23, B571888; 20Mar23, B576597; 14Apr23, B575090; 20May23, B577174; 20Jun23, B579082; 20Jul23, B581153. R69517-69522, 8Nov50. v. 21, nos. 1-4, Sept.-Dec. 1923. © 20Aug23, B582637; 20Sep23, B585256; 20Oct23, B588309; 25Nov23, B590219. R69523-69526, 8Nov50. VARALDO, Alessandro. SEE Sirenetta; fantasia drammatica mimata e a ballo in VII quadri. R68510. VAUBAN, par Daniel Halévy. (Les Cahiers verte, 21) © 19May23, AF23029. R65746, 1Aug50, Daniel Halévy (A) VAWTER, John William. SEE Riley fairy tales. R67957. Songs of home. R67956. VAWTER, Will. SEE Vawter, John William. VEBER, Pierre Eugène. SEE Epouse-lai R71889. LA VENTOUSE, pièce en un acte de Marcel Nancey et Jean Manoussy. © 19Jun19, D52174. R71091, 28Nov50, Marcel Nancey (A) VERGA, Giovanni. SEE Mastro-Don Gesualdo. R69076. VEROTCHKA L'ÉTRANGERE; ou, LE GOUT DU MALHEUR. Par Francis Carco [pseud. de Francis Carcopino; full name: Francois Marie Alexandre Carcopino-Tueoli] © 3Aug23, AF23344. R68409, 13Oct50, Francis Carco (pseud. de Francis Carcopino) (A) VERRILL, A. Hyatt. SEE Deep sea hunters in the frozen seas. R72281. VERSE, Albert. SEE La ribaude. R69901. VERSE OF OUR DAY; an anthology of modern American and British poetry with studies in poetry, by Margery Gordon and Marie B. King. © 14Feb23, A696451. R72282, 28Dec50, Margery Gordon (A) VERY LITTLE CHILD'S BOOK OF STORIES, by Ada M. Skinner and Eleanor L. Skinner, with pictures by Jessie Willcox Smith. © 21Sep23, A759478. R67698, 26Sep50, Ada M. Skinner (A) & Eleanor L. Skinner (A) VIAUD, Julien. SEE Un jeune officier pauvre. R68407. VICTORIA, by Knut Hamsun. Translated from the Norwegian by Arthur G. Chater. © 9Apr23, A705097. R71274, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) <pb id='350.png' /> LA VIE de Shelley. R65745. SEE Ariel. LA VIE EN FLEUR, par Anatole France. © 5Jul22, AF20051. R68404, 13Oct50, Lucien Psichari (NK) VIKING Press, inc. SEE The heretic of Soana. R69490. VILLARD, Oswald Garrison. SEE Some newspapers and newspapermen. R71939. THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES, by Homera Homer-Dixon; with introd. by T. R. O'Meara, edited by F. A. Steven. © 1Feb23, A699494. R70079, 15Nov50, Homera Homer-Dixon (A) VIOLA GWYN, by George Barr McCutcheon; front. by E. C. Caswell. © 9Sep22, A683182. R64969, 28Jul50, John T. McCutcheon (NK) & Jessie McCutcheon Nelson (NK) THE VIRGINIA AND WEST VIRGINIA JUDICIAL DICTIONARY-DIGEST, words and phrases, by Fred F. Caldwell. (v. 2) © 29Aug22, A681585. R66224, 24Aug50, The W. H. Anderson Co. (PWH) THE VIRGINIA AND WEST VIRGINIA JUDICIAL DICTIONARY-DIGEST; words and phrases. Fred P. Caldwell, compiler. v. 3-4. © 25Oct22, A683910; 11Dec22, A690579. R66991-66992, 11Sep50, The W. H. Anderson Co. (PWH) LA VITA NUOVA DI DANTE ALIGHIERI; edited with introd., notes and vocabulary by Kenneth McKenzie. (Heath's Modern language series) © 27Oct22, A686589. R67734, 29Sep50, Aimee G. L. McKenzie (W) THE VITAL MESSAGE, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 10Dec19, A559035. R65930, 15Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) VIZETELLY, Frank K. SEE The comprehensive standard dictionary of the English language. R67504. VOGUE. © The Conde Nast Publications inc. (PCW) v. 61, nos. 1-12, Jan. 1-June 15, 1923. © 22Dec22, B567719; 12Jan23, B568839; 26Jan23, B568840; 10Feb23, B569951; 25Feb23, B572619; 8Mar23, B572620; 25Mar23, B576598; 10Apr23, B576599; 20Apr23, B575091; 10May23, B576600; 25May23, B577175; 5Jun23, B578185. R69527-69538, 8Nov50. v. 62, nos. 1-4. July 1-Aug. 15, 1923. © 25Jun23, B579419; 10Jul23, B581154; 25Jul23, B585147; 10Aug23, B582638. R69539-69542, 8Nov50. v. 62, no. 6, Sept. 15, 1923. © 10Sep23, B585257. R69543, 8Nov50. v. 62, nos. 8-10, Oct. 15-Nov. 15, 1923. © 10Oct23, B588310; 25Oct23, B588311; 5Nov23, B590220. R69544-69546, 8Nov50. v. 62, no. 5, Sept. 1, 1923. © 25Aug23, B586355. R70454, 22Nov50. v. 62, no. 7, Oct. 1, 1923. © 25Sep23, B585756. R70455, 22Nov50. VOUS SEREZ COMME DES DIEUX, par Colette Yver [pseud. d'Antoinette Huzard] © 15Mar22, AF19478. R68403, 13Oct50, Colette Yver (pseud. d'Antoinette Huzard, née: Antoinette de Bergevin) (A) THE VOW, by Amy Lowell. (In Poetry) © Ada D. Russell (E) Dec. 1922 issue. © 20Nov22, B552553. R67907, 3Oct50. <pb id='351.png' /> LAS VUELTAS QUE DA EL MUNDO, comedia en 3 actos por Serafín y Joaquín Álvarez Quintero. © 30Sep22, D63292. R64478, 18Jul50, Maria Jesus Álvarez Quintero (E) WALDO, Harold. SEE The magic midland. R68151. WALKER, Abbie (Phillips) SEE Sandman's stories of Snowed-In-Hut. R70402. Sandman's stories of Twinkle-Eyes. R70401 WALKER, William H. SEE Principles of chemical engineering. R68491. WALKER Publications, inc. SEE The American hereford journal. WALLACE, Edgar. SEE The valley of ghosts. R67531. WALPOLE, Sir Hugh. SEE Jeremy and Hamlet. R67961. The tarn. R67377. WALSH, Gertrude Margaret. SEE Platero y yo. R67298. WANDERINGS OF A SPIRITUALIST, by Arthur Conan Doyle. © 18Nov21, (pub. abroad 2Sep21), A661583. R65932, 15Aug50, Denis Percy Stewart Conan Doyle (C), Adrian M. Conan Doyle (C) & Lena Jean Annette Conan Doyle (C) THE WAR AND AFTER, by Oliver Lodge. © 3May18, A497160. R70134, 10Nov50, Oliver W. F. Lodge (C) WARD, John William George. SEE Problems that perplex. R68947. WARNER Bros. Pictures, inc. SEE The beautiful and damned. R68099. Fortune's mask. R64866. From rags to riches. R65219. The front page story. R68098. Heroes of the street. R68121. Homemade movies. R65117. The hottentot. R68526. Little church around the corner. R72139. Little wildcat. R65217. No wedding bells. R72138. One stolen night. R72137. Parted curtains. R65218. Skin deep. R64865. When danger smiles. R67807. You never know. R68091. WASHINGTON AND ITS ROMANCE, by Thomas Nelson Page. Illustrated by Walter O. and Emily Shaw Reese. © 26Oct23, A759994. R69244, 27Oct50, Anne Page Johns (NK) WASTE, Henrie, pseud. SEE Stettheimer, Ettie WATSON, Floyd R. SEE Acoustics of buildings. R71101. WATTS, Ralph L. SEE Growing vegetables. R66666 WATTYNE, P. de. SEE Quand la cloche sonnera. R69895. THE WAY OF POETRY, an anthology for younger readers, by John Drinkwater. © 6Oct22, A683665. R64985, 31Jul50, Daisy Kennedy Drinkwater (W) <pb id='352.png' n='1950_h2/A/0118' /> THE WAY OF THE BUFFALO, by Charles Alden Seltzer. (In Argosy-all-story weekly) © Ella Alberts Seltzer (W) Aug. 4, 1923 issue. © 2Aug23, B592339. R65246, 3Aug50. THE WEAK-END PARTY, a photoplay in two reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 1Oct22, L18275. R67304, 20Sep50, Loew's inc. (PWH) WEAVER, John Van Alatyne. SEE Finders; more poems in American. R71269. WEAVER, Louise Bennett. SEE Bettina's best desserts. R66241. Bettina's best salads. R66240. WEBB, Aquilla. SEE Cyclopedia of sermon outlines. R71669. WEBBER, James Plaisted. SEE One-act plays for secondary schools. R71800. WEBSTER, Hanson Hart. SEE One-act plays for secondary schools. R71800. WEBSTER, Joseph Rowe. SEE Fifty plans for fifty themes. R71881. WEBSTER'S NEW INTERNATONAL DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. P. W. Carhart, A. G. Baker (and others) editors. Based on the International dictionary of 1890 and 1900. Latest authentic quarto ed., rev. (The Merriam series) © 19Feb23, A696472. R66345, 28Aug50, G. & C. Merriam Co. (PWH) WECKEL, Ada Louise. SEE "Frogikin" drawings to show internal structure of frog. R70130. WEDDING RING COFFEE. © 21Nov23, Label 26704. R71598, 11Dec50, Jacob Shapiro (P) WEDEKIND, Frank. SEE Tragedies of sex. R67277. WEEDS, by Pio Baroja; translated from the Spanish by Isaac Goldberg. © 31Oct23, A765081. R71952, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) WEEDS, a comedy-drama in a prologue and three acts by John B. Hymer and LeRoy Clemens. [Produced under the title Alias the deacon] © 10Sep23, D65450. R69225, 2Nov50, John B. Hymer (A), LeRoy Clemens (A) WEIGALL, Arthur. SEE Madeline of the desert. R65756. WEIK, Jesse W. SEE The real Lincoln: a portrait. R68261. WEIMAN, Rita. SEE Fleshpot. R69234. Footlights. R65760. Melodrama. R71358. Peachbloom. R71359. WEINSTEIN, Alexander. SEE De senectute. R65278. The outline of science. R65279. WEIR, Wilbert Walter. SEE Productive soils. R69620. WEIR of Hermiston. R71087. SEE The ebb-tide ... WELDED, a play in three acts by Eugene O'Neill. © 2May23, D64355. R68588, 3Oct50, Eugene O'Neill (A) WELLESZ, Egon. SEE Persisches Ballett. R65304. <pb id='353.png' /> WELLMAN, Elsie (Dunn), afterwards metcalfe. SEE Scott, Evelyn. WELLS, Carolyn. SEE Feathers left around. R71283. Spooky Hollow. R71288. Wheels within wheels. R67960. WELLS, Webster. SEE Modern first year algebra. R67301. Modern high school algebra. R67303. WERNER, Morris Robert. SEE Barnum. R69314. WEST, Hon. Victoria Mary Sackville. SEE Sackville-West, Hon. Victoria Mary. WEST AND EAST, by Clare Sheridan. © 14Apr23, A704248. R67273, 18Sep50, Clare Sheridan (A) WEST Publishing Company SEE Alaska reports. R64319. American digest annotated. American digest monthly advance sheets. American digest system 1916 ... R68267. Atlantic reporter. Cases and other authorities on equity. R68269. Federal reporter. Handbook of common law pleading. R64355. Handbook of equity jurisprudence. R64356. Illustrative cases on equity jurisprudence. R64357. Kentucky decisions reported in the southwestern reporter annotated, v. 244-247, Nov. 1922-Mar. 1923. R68289. The law of the press. R64358. Louisiana reports. R64359. Missouri decisions reported in the Southwestern reporter annotated. New York digest. R64361. New York supplement. Northeastern reporter. Northwestern reporter. Pacific reporter. Pamphlet supplement. U. S. compiled statutes. Reports of cases adjudged in the Court of appeals of the District of Columbia from April 3, 1922 to March 5, 1923. R68278. Semi-annual Michigan digest. Southeastern reporter. Southern reporter Southwestern reporter. Supreme Court reporter. Texas decisions reported in the southwestern reporter annotated, v. 248-249, Apr.-May, 1923. R69284. Texas and southwestern reporter digest. WESTCOTT, Slade and Balcom Company. SEE Anti-fouling boat bottom paint. R68209. WESTERN STORY MAGAZINE. © Street & Smith Publications, inc. (PCW) v. 34, nos. 2-6, v. 35, nos. 1-6, v. 36, nos. 1-5, Apr. 20-Aug. 11, 1923. © 25Apr23, B575472; 2May23, B575473; 9May23, B576493; 16May23, B576494; 23May23, B577569; 29May23, B577570; 6Jun23, B578388; 13Jun23, B578389; 20Jun23, B579459; 27Jun23, B579460; <pb id='354.png' /> 3Jul23, B580285; 11Jul23, B581080; 18Jul23, B581020; 25Jul23, B581021; 1Aug23, B582199; 7Aug23, B583438. R65487-65502, 10Aug50. v. 36, no. 6, Aug. 18, 1923. © 14Aug23, B583439. R70217, 16Nov50. v. 37, nos. 1-6, Aug. 25-Sept. 29, 1923. © 21Aug23, B583440; 29Aug23, B584450; 5Sep23, B584664; 12Sep23, B585378; 19Sep23, B585843; 26Sep23, B586444. R70218-70223, 16Nov50. v. 38, nos. 1-6. Oct. 6-Nov. 10, 1923. © 3Oct23, B587020; 10Oct23, B587467; 17Oct23, B587862; 24Oct23, B589140; 31Oct23, B589141; 7Nov23, B589829. R70224-70229, 16Nov50. WESTERN Tablet and Stationery Corporation. SEE Personality Linen. R71572. WESTINGHOUSE AIR BRAKE; Instruction paper with examination questions, by International Correspondence Schools staff. 2 v., parts 1-2. (2072A-B) © 23Dec22, A695048. R70151, 17Nov50, International Textbook Co. (PWH) WESTMORE, Elizabeth (Bisland) SEE The writings of Lafcadio Hearn. v. 13-16. R69660 ... WESTOVER, Russ. SEE Tillie the toiler. R67546. WET AND WEARY, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 29Oct23, L19595. R71021, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) WE'VE GOT TO HAVE MONEY, a play in three acts by Edward Laska. © 31May23, D64687. R69362, 6Nov50, Edward Laska (A) WHAT A WONDERFUL SIGHT IT WAS WHEN THE HOLY ANGELS IN ALL THEIR GLORY, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep22, K169955. R66979, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., inc. (PWH) WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE STATE COMES TO MARKET FOR FINE ART, a play in 1 act by Fred E. Dayton. © 24May23, D64597. R64007, 12Jun50, Lee & J. J. Shubert (PWH) WHAT MEN NEED HOST AND OTHER SERMONS, by Daniel A. Poling. © 26Oct23, A760696. R68971, 30Oct50, Daniel A. Poling (A) WHAT THE YOUNG AUTHOR OUGHT TO KNOW, by Stoddard King. (In Saturday evening post) © Henriette L. M. King (W) Dec. 15, 1923 issue. © 13Dec23, B604243. R71663, 15Dec50. WHAT WOULD YOU DO? a play in one act by Harry Lewis. © 19Jul23, D65068. R66973, 13Sep50, Harry Lewis (A) WHEELER, Francis William Rolt. SEE Rolt-Wheeler, Francis William. WHEELOCK, John Hall. SEE The black panther. R63982. WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS, by Carolyn Wells. © 28Sep23, A759229. R67960, 6Oct50, Bridget M. O'Connell (E) WHEN DANGER SMILES, a photoplay In five reels by Vitagraph Company of America. © 14Oct22, L18325. R67807, 20Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, inc. (PCB) WHEN LOVE DICTATES, by Anne Shannon Monroe. (In Good housekeeping) © Elizabeth Monroe Story (NK) Jan. 1924 issue. © 20Dec23, B604874. R72204, 22Dec50. <pb id='355.png' n='1950_h2/A/0119' /> WHEN ODDS ARE EVEN, a photoplay in five reels by Fox Film Corp. © 5Nov23, L19580. R71020, 5Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) WHEN PETER RABBIT WENT A-FISHING, by Linda Stevens Almond; with illus. by Margaret Campbell Hoopes (Altemus Peter Rabbit series) © 6Dec23, A766250. R72288, 28Dec50, The Platt & Munk Co. (PWH) WHERE ALL ROADS LEAD, by G. K. Chesterson (In Catholic world) © Dorothy Edith Collins (E) Nov. 1922 issue. © 23Oct22, B550609. R72028, 26Dec50. Dec 1922 issue. © 25Nov22, B567586. R72029, 26Dec50. Jan. 1923 issue. © 22Dec22, B567012. R72030, 26Dec50. Feb. 1923 issue. © 25Jan22, B569115. R72031, 26Dec50. Mar. 1923 issue. © 26Feb23, B571454. R72032, 26Dec50. Apr. 1923 issue. © 26Mar23, B573467. R72033, 26Dec50. May 1923 issue. © 25Apr23, B575850. R72034, 26Dec50. WHERE ARE WE GOING? By David Lloyd George. Pub. abroad as "Is It peace?" © 19Oct23, (pub. abroad 28Sep23, AI-5462), A760691. R68781, 23Oct50, Frances Lloyd George (W) WHERE THE FINEST COFFEE FLAVOR COMES FROM (Coffee) © 15Jan23, Print 6672. R70336, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) WHERE THE FINEST COFFEE FLAVOR COMES FROM. (Coffee) © 25May23, Print 6920. R70355, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, Inc. (P) WHERE THE SUN SWINGS NORTH, by Barrett Willoughby [i.e. Florance (Barrett) Willoughby] © 13Oct22, A683785. R64360, 16Jun50, Barrett Willoughby (A) WHERE TO STOP ALONG NEW ENGLAND MOTOR TRAILS, 1923; edited by Mrs. Henry A. Libbey. © 15Jun23, A710578. R65945, 8Aug50, Woman's City Club of Boston (PWH) WHISPERING SAGE, by Harry Sinclair Drago and Joseph Noel. © 15Sep22, A683276. R65211, 2Aug50, Harry Sinclair Drago (A) WHITE, Ellen G. SEE The story of patriarchs and prophets. R69602. WHITE, Frank. SEE White on corporations ... R65290. WHITE, Stewart Edward. SEE Skookum Chuck. R68899 ... WHITE CARGO, a play of the west coast of Africa in three acts, by Leon Gordon. © 5Nov23, D65961. R70064, 15Nov50, Leon Gordon (A) THE WHITE FLAG, by Gene Stratton Porter; front. by Lester Ralph. © 17Aug23, A759087. R66114, 18Aug50, Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) THE WHITE FLAG, by Gene Stratton Porter. (In Good housekeeping) © Jeannette Porter Meehan (C) Aug. 1923 issue. © 18Jul23, B581723. R64576, 19Jul50. Sept. 1923 issue. © 18Aug23, B583528. R66116, 21Aug50. Oct. 1923 issue. © 19Sep23, B586102. R67378, 21Sep50. Nov. 1923 issue. © 18Oct23, B588297. R68792, 23Oct50. <pb id='356.png' /> WHITE ON CORPORATIONS; the laws as amended to January 1, 1923, by Frank White. 9th ed. © 14Feb23, A696448. R65290, 7Aug50, Alice L. White (W) THE WHITE ROSE, a photoplay in ten reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 26Jul23, L19240. R66783, 21Aug50, Lloyd Wright (E of D. W. Griffith, PWH) THE WHITE ROSE, a photoplay in ten reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 26Jul23, L19240. R66784, 21Aug50, Ruth Griffith (PWH), Geraldine Griffith Reichard (PWH) THE WHITE ROSE, a photoplay in ten reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 26Jul23, L19240. R66785, 21Aug50, Mary Ann Butler (PWH), Marguarite Butler (PWH) THE WHITE ROSE, a photoplay in ten reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 26Jul23, L19240. R66786, 21Aug50, Barbara Griffith (PWH), Lynn Griffith (PWH), Willard Griffith (PWH) THE WHITE ROSE, a photoplay in ten reels by D. W. Griffith, inc. © 26Jul23, L19240. R66787, 21Aug50, Mary Bruce Duncan (PWH), Marie Duncan (PWH), Myrtil Seaman Griffith (PWH) WHITEFOOT THE WOOD MOUSE, by Thornton W. Burgess. © 14Oct22, A686313. R67728, 29Sep50, Thornton W. Burgess (A) WHITMAN Publishing Company. SEE The cruise of the O Moo. R64253. Curlie Carson listens in. R65181. The desert patrol. R66431. The saber tusk walrus. R66432. WHITNEY, Elliott. SEE The saber tusk walrus. R66432. WHO PICKED UP THE FIRST NUGGET IN CALIFORNIA? By Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribune magazine) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) June 24, 1923 issue. © 24Jun23, A671397. R68077, 6Oct50. WHY PAY RENT, a photoplay in two reels by Fox Film Corp. © 26Aug23, L19439. R68444, 17Oct50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) WHY WORRY, a photoplay by San Taylor. © 11Aug23, L19294. R65890, 21Aug50, Harold Lloyd Corp. (PWH) WICKEHSHAM, James. SEE Alaska reports. R64319. WIDOR, M. Ch. M. SEE L'esthetique de l'orgue. R69894. THE WIDOW WIGHT, a comedy in one act by Nathaniel Ladd Foster. (French's international edition) © 30Dec22, D63351. R71147, 6Dec50, Nathaniel Ladd Foster (A) WIGGIN, Kate Douglas (Smith) SEE My garden of memory. R69684. WILCOX, Frances. SEE Robin Hood. R68208. WILD FREEDOM, by George Owen Baxter [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Nov. 11, 1922 issue. © 8Nov22, B551276. R64894, 31Jul50. WILDE, Percival. SEE The craftsmanship of the one-act play. R64562. <pb id='357.png' /> WILDER, Louise Beebe. SEE Adventures in my garden end rock garden. R69609. WILLEMETZ, Albert. SEE La-haut. R69899. Phi-Phi. R70835. WILLIAM FOX PRESENTS TO EXHIBITORS EVERYWHERE A COMBINATION OF SPECIAL ATTRACTIONS ... season 1923-1924, by William Fox. © 28Jul23, A755216. R65950, 17Aug50, 20th Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) WILLIAMS, Ben Ames. SEE The braggart. R71193. The cigarette. R71194. The road runner. R71191 ... Thrifty stock. R71876. With empty hands. R71877. WILLIAMS, Valentine. SEE Island gold. R69658. The orange divan. R69681. WILLIAMS, Wayland Wells. SEE Family. R71677. THE WILLING HORSE, by Ian Hay [pseud. of John Hay Beith] © 7Oct21, A627521. R71423, 11Dec50, John Hay Beith (A) WILLIS, Hugh Evander. SEE Cases on bailments and public callings, with special reference to common carriers. R69240. WILLOUGHBY, Barrett. SEE Willoughby, Florance (Barrett) WILLOUGHBY, Florance (Barrett) SEE Treacherous love. R64557 ... Where the sun swings north. R64560. WILLSIE, Honoré SEE Morrow, Honoré (McCue) Willsie. WILLSON, Dixie. SEE Dust in the doorway. R72268. WILNED, William. SEE J'te veux. R64192. WILSON, Bert. SEE The Christian and his money problems R68949. WILSON, Desemea (Newman) SEE Dusk of moonrise. R69270. The manuscript of youth. R70600. WILSON, Edmund. SEE The confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. R71951. WILSON, Ernest Henry. SEE Travel tales of a plant collector. R64972 ... WILSON, Harry Leon. SEE How's Your Health? R69976. Oh Doctor. R69975. WILSON, Henry Blauvelt. SEE God's will for the world. R71379. WILSON, Margaret. SEE Turner, Margaret (Wilson) WILSON, Woodrow. SEE The road away from revolution. R64973. THE WIND BOY, by Ethel Cook Eliot. Illustrated by Winifred Bromhall. © 28Sep23, A759560. R69077, 17Oct50, Ethel Cook Eliot (A) <pb id='358.png' n='1950_h2/A/0120' /> THE WINDING STAIR, by A. E. W. Mason (In the Grand magazine) © Ernest Carrington Ouvry (E), Charles Thomas Holland (E) & Sylvia Bedford Pim (E) Chapters 1-21 (6 installments), Feb.-July 1923 issues. © 29Aug23, (pub. abroad 12Jan23, AI-4916; 20Feb23, AI-4985; 16Mar23, AI-5024; 20Apr23, AI-5100; 11May23, AI-5171; 4Jun23, AI-5247), A711717. R66650-66655, 31Aug50. WINDMILL. (Oranges) © 21Jul23, Label 26577. R70735, 1Dec50, James Mills Orchards Co. (P) WING SHOOTING AND ANGLING, by Eugene V. Connett, 3d. © 10Nov22, A686949. R68247, 13Oct50, Eugene V. Connett. 3d (A) WINKING LIGHTS, by John Frederick [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Jan. 6, 1923 issue. © 3Jan23, B567577. R67877, 2Oct50. WINSLOW, Charles Edward Amory. SEE The evolution and significance of the modern health campaign. R68686. WINTERS, Janet (Lewis) SEE Lewis, Janet. THE WISHING WELL, a romance of old Ireland. A musical comedy by May Hewes Dodge and John Wilson Dodge. © 13Jul23, D26472. R65083, 21Jul50, Cynthia Dodge Crawford (C) WITH EMPTY HANDS, by Ben Ames Williams. (In Good housekeeping) © Ben Ames Williams (A) Aug. 1923 issue. © 18Jul23, B581723. R71877, 22Dec50. WITHIN THESE WALLS, by Rupert Hughes. © 1Jun23, A704777. R66245, 27Jul50, Rupert Hughes (A) WITHOUT A PENNY IN THE WORLD, by John Frederick [pseud. of Frederick Faust] (In Western story magazine) © Dorothy Faust (W) Oct. 21, 1922 issue. © 18Oct22, B549854. R64892, 31Jul50. WITHOUT CLUES, by Jeannette Helm. © 10Sep23, A760067. R67284, 18Sep50, Jeannette Helm (A) WITWER, Harry Charles. SEE Fighting blood. R70102. WODEHOUSE, Pelham Grenville. SEE Chester forgets himself. R64200. The exit of Battling Billson. R70390. Heart of a goof. R66531. Jeeves. R67967. The long arm of Looney Coote. R68185. No wedding bells for him. R67007. Plus fours. R67000. The return of Battling Billson. R64204. Ukridge rounds a nasty corner. R71790. Ukridge sees her through. R65647. THE WOLFER, by Frederick Niven. © 31Mar23, A698840. R67843, 2Oct50, Frederick Niven (A) WOLVES, by Konrad Bercovici. (In Good housekeeping) © Konrad Bercovici (A) Oct. 1923 issue. © 19Sep23, B586102. R67379, 21Sep50. <pb id='359.png' /> A WOMAN OF BETHLEHEM TELLING ST. JOSEPH THAT SHE HAS NO ROOM IN HER HOUSE FOR THE BLESSED VIRGIN, by Marion Ames Taggart. (In the Wonder story) © 26Sep32, K169954. R66978, 13Sep50, Benziger Bros., Inc. (PWH) THE WOMAN OF KNOCKALOE; a parable, by Sir Hall Caine. © 20Oct23, (pub. abroad 27Sep23, AI-5409), A759587. R71374, 8Dec50, O. R. Hall Caine (C) & Sir Derwent Hall Caine, bart. (C) A WOMAN OF PARIS, & photoplay in eight reels by Regent Film Co. © 17Oct23, L19504. R71854, 18Dec50, Charles Chaplin (PWH) WOMAN PROOF, a photoplay in eight reels By Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 6Nov23, L19569. R69383, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) THE WOMAN WITH FOUR FACES, a play in 6 reels, by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 27Jun23, L19166. R64135, 3Jul50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) WOMANHOOD IN THE MAKING, by Margaret W. Eggleston [i. e., Margaret Eggleston Owen] © 30Nov23, A766160. R71041, 1Dec50, Mrs. George Owen (A) A WOMAN'S LIFE, by Guy de Maupassant. Translated and edited by Ernest Boyd. (The collected novels and stories of Guy de Maupassant. v 4) © 9Apr23, A705389. R71276, 5Dec50, Alfred A. Knopf, inc. (PWH) WOMEN'S City Club of Boston. SEE Guide to shops and services, 1922-1923. R65944. Where to stop along New England motor trails, 1923. R65945. A WONDER BOOK AND TANGLEWOOD TALES. Illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren. © 11Oct23, A760466. R69686, 9Nov50, Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) THE WONDERFUL HISTORY OF PETER SCHLEMIHL by Adelbert von Chamisso; translated and illustrated by Theodore Bolton. © 5Nov23, A777054. R71326, 12Dec50, Theodore Bolton (A) WOOD, Clement. SEE The tide comes in. R71380. WOOD, Irving Francis. SEE The book of life. R70110. WOOD, Milo. SEE Horticulture for schools. R64300. WOODRUFF, Lorande Loss. SEE The development of the sciences. R70094. WOODWARD, William E. SEE Bunk. R68955 WOOLF, Virginia. SEE Jacob's room. R68009 WOOLLCOTT, Alexander. SEE Shouts and murmurs. R63895. THE WORLD OF FALSEFACE, by George Jean Nathan. © 2Jan23, A690931. R71046, 4Dec50, George Jean Nathan (A) WORLD WEATHER, by Henry Helm Clayton. © 24Jul23, A752229. R70100, 13Nov50, Francis L. Clayton (C) THE WORLD'S BEST HUMOROUS ANECDOTES, selected by J. Gilchrist Lawson. © 25Jan23, A686289. R66660, 31Aug50, Camilla Martens Lawson (W) <pb id='360.png' /> THE WRECKER, by Robert Louis Stevenson; Vailima ed., edited by Lloyd Osbourne (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson) © on notes and editorial work; 15Dec22, A690621. R71088, 6Dec50, Alan Osbourne (NK) WRIGHT, Anna Potter. SEE Lois Dudley finds peace. R70080. WRIGHT, Harold Bell. SEE The mine with the iron door. R65289. WRIGHT, Lloyd. SEE One exciting night. R66778. The white rose. R66783. WRIGHT, Willard Huntington. SEE The future of painting. R64523. WRIGHT'S Underwear Corporation. SEE Keep warm on a frozen corner with this underwear. R65419. THE WRITINGS OF LAFCADIO HEARN. Large paper ed. 16 v. © on illus.; Houghton Mifflin Co. (PWH) v. 1. Leaves from the diary of an impressionist; Creole sketches and some Chinese ghosts. Illus. by Charles S. Olcott. © 7Dec22, A698937. R69671, 9Nov50. v. 2. Stray leaves from strange literature, and Fantastics and other fancies. Illus. by Charles S. Olcott. © 7Dec22, A698936. R69670, 9Nov50. v. 3. Two years in the French West Indies, I. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698934. R69668, 9Nov50. v. 4. Two years in the French West Indies, II. Illus. By Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698935. R69669, 9Nov50. v. 5-6. Glimpses of unfamiliar Japan. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698938. R69672, 9Nov50. v. 7. Out of the East, and Kokoro. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698933. R69667, 9Nov50. v. 8. Gleanings in Buddha fields, and The romance of the Milky Way. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698927. R69661, 9Nov50. v. 9. Exotics and retrospectives, and In ghostly Japan. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698929. R69663, 9Nov50. v. 10. Shadowings, and A Japanese miscellany. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698932. R69666, 9Nov50. v. 11. Kotto, and Kwaidan. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698928. R69662, 9Nov50. v. 12. Japan: An attempt at interpretation. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698930. R69664, 9Nov50. v. 13-15. Life and letters; edited by Elizabeth Bisland. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698926. R69660, 9Nov50. v. 16. Japanese letters: edited by Elizabeth Bisland. Illus. by Burton Holmes. © 7Dec22, A698931. R69665, 9Nov50. THE WRONG BOX; ISLAND NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS AND FATHER DAMIEN, by Robert Louis Stevenson; edited by Lloyd Osbourne. (The works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima ed., v. 15) © on editorial work; 15Nov22, A692178. R68251, 13Oct50, Alan Osbourne (NK) WRONG NUMBER, a farce in three acts by Harvey J. O'Higgins and Harriet Ford. © 6Aug23, D65228. R69223, 2Nov50, Anna G. O'Higgins (W), Christine Illing (E) <pb id='361.png' n='1950_h2/A/0121' /> WYLIE, Ida. Alexa Ross. SEE The inheritors. R64257 ... Jungle law. R70025 ... The perfect marriage. R66115. Second vision. R72205. WYNNE, Pamela. SEE Scott, Winifred Mary (Watson) THE YEARBOOK of the drama of America. SEE The best plays of 1921-1922. R65122. YEATS, William Butler. SEE Autobiographical fragment. R71597. Meditations in time of civil war. R70299. The player queen. R69431. YEHSENNOHWEHS. SEE Powers, Mabel. THE YELLOW BEHIND THE GREENBACK, by Harry C. Peterson. (In Oakland tribume) © Lillian Claire Peterson (W) June 17, 1923 issue. © 17Jun23, A671243. R68076, 6Oct50. YELLOW BUTTERFLIES, by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews. © 1Dec22, A692311. R71089, 1Dec50, Paul Shipman Andrews (C) YES, PEOPLE CHANGE TO AND THEN REMAIN SATISFIED. (Coffee) © 18May23, Print 6922. R70357, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) YESTERDAYS, a play of song and sentiment in threw acts, a prologue and epilogue, by Edward Locke. Based on the characters and songs of Stephen Collins Foster. © 1Jun23, D64705. R69221, 2Nov50, Edna Locke (W) YEZIERSKA, Anzia. SEE Salome of the teniments. R64672 ... YO-HO FOR YOLO, by Sam Hallman. (In the Saturday evening post) © Sam Hallman (A) Nov. 25, 1923 issue. © 23Nov22, B552339. R65509, 1Aug50. <pb id='362.png' /> YOU AND ME (Toi et moi) by Paul Geraldy; translated from the French by Joseph T. Shipley. © 14Apr23, A704246. R67271, 18Sep50, Joseph T. Shipley (A) YOU CAN GET GOOD COFFEE. © 29May23, Print 6921. R70356, 24Nov50, Hills Bros. Coffee, inc. (P) YOU CAN'T GET AWAY WITH IT, a photoplay in six reels by Fox Film Corp. © 3Dec23, L19677. R71784, 20Dec50, Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corp. (PWH) YOU NEVER KNOW, a photoplay in five reels by Vitagraph Company of America. © 22Oct22, L18351. R68091, 6Oct50, Warner Bros. Pictures, Inc. (PCB) YOU OUGHTA SEE PHIL a farce comedy in one act by Margaret Echard. © 9Jul23, D64979. R68472, 17Oct50, Margaret Echard (A) YOUNG, Chester A. SEE The human body is a radio station. R66481. YOUNG, George J. SEE Elements of mining. R67305. YOUNG, Rida Johnson. SEE second hand rose. R68457. THE YOUNG chevalier. R71087. SEE The ebb-tide. YOUNG FELIX, by Frank Swinnerton. © 2Nov23, (pub. abroad 28Sep23, AI-5461), A760772. R69606, 6Nov50, Frank Swinnerton (A) A YOUNG MAN'S FANCY, an episode of romantic youth in two scenes by LeRoy Clemens. © 6Oct23, D65674. R69226, 2Nov50, LeRoy Clemens (A) THE YOUNG VISITORS; OR MR. SALTEENA'S PLAN. by Daisy Ashford [full name; Margaret Mary Ashford; later Mrs James Devlin] with a pref, by J. M. Barrie. © 9Jul19, (pub. abroad 22May19, AI-3433), A530125. R65983, 14Aug50, Mrs. J. Devlin (A) <pb id='363.png' /> YOUNG Women's Christian Associations. U. S. National Board. SEE Ceremonials of common days. R67802. YOUR HIDDEN POWERS by James Oppenheim. © 5Mar23, A705091. R70266, 21Nov50, Linda Gray Oppenheim (W) YOUTH TO YOUTH, photoplay in six reels by Metro Pictures Corp. © 10Oct22, L18308. R67544, 25Sep50, Loew's inc. (PWH) YVAIN, Maurice SEE La-haut. R69899. YVER, Coletta, pseud. SEE Huzard, Antoinette (de Bargevin) ZANDER THE GREAT, a comedy in a prologue and 3 acts by Salisbury Field. © 3Jul23, D65011. R64655, 21Jul50, Mrs. Isobel Field (W) ZANE, John M. SEE Bishop on criminal law. R72192. ZAZA a photoplay in seven reels by Famous Players-Lasky Corp. © 9Oct23, L19484. R69377, 6Nov50, Paramount Pictures Corp. (PWH) ZIPPRODT, H. R. SEE Foundations, abutments and footings. R67314. Structural members and connections. R67310. ZOLLMANN, Carl. SEE Bishop on criminal law. R72192. ZOOLOGY, the science of animal life, by Ernest Ingersoll. (The Popular science library, v. 12) © 15Dec22, A692486. R66318, 28Aug50, P. F. Collier & Son Corp. (PWH)

U.S. Copyright Renewals, 1950 July - December

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Transcribers note: 1. A minor error has been corrected in Chapter V (Section on Beauvais) luuch changed to lunch. 2. Ligature [oe] replaced with oe. _Seeing France With Uncle John_ [Illustration: "I held the guide-book and read the explanations, while he kept up a running contradiction of everything I read."] * * * * * _Seeing France With Uncle John_ _By_ _Anne Warner_ _Author of "Susan Clegg and her friend Mrs. Lathrop," etc._ _With Illustrations by_ _May Wilson Preston_ [Illustration] _New York The Century Co. 1906_ * * * * * Copyright, 1906, by THE CENTURY CO. _Published October, 1906_ THE DE VINNE PRESS _List of Illustrations_ PAGE "I held the guide-book and read the explanations, while he kept up a running contradiction of everything I read" _Frontispiece_ "She lies still and talks to M. Sibilet" 8 "While we walk" 9 Rouen--Maison du XV siècle 24 "'Richard Coeur-de-Lion--petrified, eh?'" 33 "'So that's the clock?'" 41 "'There's been no tampering with _this_ ruin'" 65 "'This is as good a time as we'll have to study up on Gisors'" 79 "'Tell her we want dinner for four, and prompt'" 93 Beauvais 96 "'What's that chopped-off creation before us?'" 99 "'Look how mad that old lady is'" 105 "We found our beloved relative" 116 "She took hold of our hands as if she'd been our long-lost mother for years" 121 Dreux 150 "Elfrida says they are seeing Europe nicely on less than a dollar a day, and Uncle said, 'Great Scott!'" 157 Falaise 160 "Paid the man at the entrance and let him go" 163 "The coming down was awful" 168 "'I'm happy that it will be out of the question for me ever to travel again'" 177 "Lee was awfully rude and kept yawning, and I know she didn't like it by the way she looked at him" 195 Caen 198 "He has his meals in his room, for he says he cannot even think calmly of a stair-case yet" 205 Bayeux 216 "And it was Lee" 221 "We passed Elfrida and her sister to-day, pedaling along for dear life" 228 "Miss Clara Emily is getting very much in earnest" 245 In Mont-Saint-Michel 276 "Uncle sitting on the ramparts with Miss Clara Emily" 281 "Mrs. Whalen has just come in to say she is going to Dol" 293 A Street in Auray 301 "When he went to wash I gave the waiter an extra tip to feed us quickly" 303 "Broke the bell-rope ordering breakfast" 307 "He told Mrs. Clary that he had foreseen this finale to our trip all along," etc. 315 _Seeing France With Uncle John_ * * * * * Seeing France With Uncle John I YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Second day out at sea._ Dear Mama: We did get off at last, about four in the afternoon, but you never imagined anything like the day we had with Uncle John. It was awful, and, as luck would have it, he just happened to go aft or sou'west, or whatever it is on shipboard, in time to see them drop his trunk into the hold, and they let it fall from such a height that he swore for an hour. I don't see why Uncle is so unreasonable; a Russian gentleman had the locks broken to both his trunks and just smiled, and a very lovely Italian lady had her trunk caved in by the hoisting-rope and only shrugged her shoulders; but Uncle turned the whole deck fairly black and blue on account of a little fall into the hold. If Lee had only been along to soothe him down! But Lee is in London by this time. I do think he might have waited and gone with us, but Uncle says he's glad he didn't, because he says he has more than half an idea that Lee's in love with me, and that no girl alive could be happy with him. I wish Uncle liked Lee better. I wish Lee wouldn't slap him on the back and call him "old boy" the way he does. Mrs. Clary doesn't like it because she has to sit next to the doctor and talk English to him, and he can't talk English. She says whenever she goes on board a liner the doctor always spots her as intelligent-looking, and has her put next to him for English purposes. She says she's made seven trips as nursery-governess to a doctor with linguistic aspirations. The consequence is, she has most of her meals on deck with a man named Mr. Chopstone. Uncle doesn't like Mr. Chopstone, because he says he has a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Chopstone admires Edna. He says Edna could never be happy with a man like Mr. Chopstone. More later. _Fourth day out._ I've been writing Lee; I can mail it at Plymouth. It does seem to me as if Lee might have waited and gone with us. We are nicely adjusted now, and Uncle has had his trunk brought to his room, and has examined the corners and found them intact; so now the trunk is off his mind. But he has almost had fits over a man named Monsieur Sibilet, so the situation has been about as brimstony as ever. M. Sibilet is a Frenchman going back to France, but his chair is next to Mrs. Clary's, and Uncle says steamer-chairs are never accidents, but are always premeditated and with intent to kill. He asked Mrs. Clary if she couldn't see that no woman could ever be happy with a dancing fan-tan like Sibilet. We didn't know what a "fan-tan" was, but we all agreed with Uncle's premises as to poor monsieur; and then it developed that there is a Mme. Sibilet deathly sick down below, and Uncle said that he had known it all the time and was only joking. Edna and Harry are very happy, but they have to be awfully careful, because Uncle says he has a half-fledged notion that Harry is paying attention to Edna, and that he won't allow anything of the kind--not for one York second. We don't know what a "York second" is, and we haven't asked. Uncle plays poker nights, and we make the most of it. There is a nice Yale man on board, and I walk around with him. His name is Edgar. Uncle says he looks as if he had his bait out for a fortune, but Mrs. Clary says to never mind it--to go right on walking. She lies still while we walk, and talks to M. Sibilet in French. [Illustration: "She lies still and talks to M. Sibilet"] Uncle says he is the head of this expedition, and there's to be no foolishness. He says it's all rot about a man not being able to see through women, and that Edna and I needn't expect to keep any secrets from him. I do wish Lee was here to soothe him down. He was so furious to-day because he shut up his wash-stand and let the tooth-powder slide to perdition. M. Sibilet offered him an extra box of his own, but Uncle wasn't a bit grateful. He says he is sure M. Sibilet is in love with Mrs. Clary now, or why under the sun should he offer him his tooth-powder? He says he thinks it's disgraceful, considering poor Mme. Sibilet, and he took mine instead. More later. [Illustration: "While we walk"] _Sixth day out._ I do wish we were in Havre, or anywhere where Uncle had more room. The third officer invited him up on the bridge yesterday, and Uncle says you needn't tell him that any third officer in this world ever would invite him up to the bridge unless he had his eye on Edna or me. Uncle says for Edna and me to remember that old uncles have eyes as well as young third officers, and to bear in mind that it would be a dog's life to be married to a third officer. I'm beginning to be very glad, indeed, that Lee took another steamer; I reckon Lee saw how it would be. Uncle says he'd like to know what we took a slow steamer for, anyhow. He says it would have been more comfortable to have all been in death agonies and to have been in Havre by this time. He was terribly upset to-day by Mme. Sibilet's coming on deck and proving to be an old lady with white hair and the mother of monsieur instead of the wife. He says you needn't talk to him about French honor after this. We don't know what the connection is between poor old Mme. Sibilet and French honor, but we think it best not to ask. The truth is, Uncle lost all patience with M. Sibilet the day it rained and pitched--I think it was the third day out. He never did like him very much, anyhow. Mrs. Clary wanted to sit in the wind that day, and she and monsieur sat in the wind until the rain grew so bad that they were absolutely driven to come around and sit by Uncle, under the lee of the port, or whatever it is on board ship. Monsieur lugged Mrs. Clary's chair because he couldn't find a steward, and he brought it around by the smoking-room and the whole length of the deck, with the steamer pitching so that half the time he was on top of the chair, and the other half of the time the chair was on top of him. There was no one on deck but us, on account of the storm, and I thought we should die laughing, because there were forty empty chairs under shelter already. Uncle waited until, with a final slip and a slide, the poor man landed the chair, and then he screamed: "I say, Sibbilly, just take the cards out and change _them_ another time. That's the way we Americans do." You should have seen poor monsieur's face! Uncle said the whole affair gave him a queer feeling as to what might be in store for us in France. He said if M. Sibilet was a sample Frenchman, he thought he wouldn't get off at Havre, after all. Mrs. Clary is in lots of trouble over the doctor. He comes up on deck and bothers her half to death, talking English. She can't understand his English, and M. Sibilet gets tired translating. M. Sibilet speaks seven languages. Uncle says that's nothing to his credit, however. More later. _Ninth day out._ Uncle is in high spirits to-day, for he won the pool. He has been so disgusted because Mr. Edgar has won it three times. Uncle says that's no sign he'd be a good husband, though. I do think Uncle's logic is so very peculiar. He came into my state-room to-day and asked me if I didn't think the doctor was absolutely impertinent in the way he was pursuing Mrs. Clary. You'd have thought the doctor tore after her around the deck, to hear him. He said he expected to have trouble with Edna and me, but he never looked for Mrs. Clary to be a care. He said he didn't suppose she was over forty, but she ought to consider appearances more. He was quite put out, and I am gladder than ever that Lee isn't with us. We laughed ourselves half sick to-day over Mr. Chopstone. Uncle's port-hole doesn't work very easily, and Mr. Chopstone heard him talking about it to himself as he passed in the corridor, and he went in to help him. Uncle asked Mr. Chopstone if he had a crow-bar or a monkey-wrench with him, and Mr. Chopstone didn't have a crow-bar or a monkey-wrench with him, but said why not ring for the steward. Uncle wouldn't hear to the steward, and so they climbed on the divan together and tried to pry it with Uncle's hair-brush. The hair-brush broke, and Uncle went spinning, but Mr. Chopstone caught his cuff in the crack, and it tore, and half of his shirt-sleeve with a diamond cuff-link went to sea. At first we all felt awful about it, but he was so composed that Edna said he must be a millionaire, and Uncle said it must be a paste diamond. That is all only preliminary to the funny part. This afternoon we were lying in our chairs and Uncle was standing by the rail looking at a ship. All of a sudden he exclaimed, "Great Scott! Chopstone, if there isn't your cuff!" Mr. Chopstone made just one bound from his chair to the rail, and looked over so hard that his cap fell into the sea. Of course the mere idea of the cuff having sailed as fast as we did all day used us up completely, and Uncle in particular had to hang to the rail for support while he sort of wove back and forth in an ecstasy of speechless joy. Even M. Sibilet was overcome by mirth, although it turned out afterward that he thought the fun was on account of the lost cap. And then, when we got ourselves selves under control once more, Mr. Chopstone explained that what he had thought was that the cuff had caught somewhere on the outside of the steamer and that Uncle saw it hanging there. Edna says that it all shows that poor Mr. Chopstone is _not_ a millionaire, and Mrs. Clary says it proves, too, that it _was_ a real diamond. It is beginning to seem like a pretty long trip, and Mrs. Clary has started packing her trunk. The little flag that marks our progress across the chart is making Europe in great jumps, and we are all glad. Uncle gets more restless every day, and he says if the doctor don't quit coming up on deck to talk to Mrs. Clary, something will soon drop. The doctor is really very amusing; he says the first officer has a pet "marmadillo," but we cannot see it because it is too anxious. He means "frightened," it seems. Mr. Edgar is very nice; both he and Mr. Chopstone are going to Paris. Lee will be in Paris by Wednesday, I hope, and I most sincerely trust he will keep on the right side of Uncle. They say we will land early day after to-morrow. I can mail my letters in Plymouth to-morrow evening. Uncle says he's going express hereafter; he says no more dilly-dally voyages for him. _Tenth day out._ What do you think! Uncle took me into the parlor after dinner to-night and told me that he wasn't going to Paris with the rest. He says he didn't come abroad to scurry around like a wild rabbit, and that he's going to stop in Havre for a day or two. He says Edna and I had better stay with him, as he can't think of our traveling with Mr. Edgar and Mr. Chopstone alone. I said, "But there's Mrs. Clary." And he said, "Yes; but you forget Sibbilly." I do think Uncle's logic is so remarkable. _Eleventh day out._ Everybody is getting their trunks in from the baggage-room and running to the rail to look at ships. Uncle won the pool again to-day; he says this is one of the pleasantest trips he ever made, and he shook hands with M. Sibilet when he met him on deck this morning. Mrs. Clary is awfully upset over our staying in Havre, and she says if Lee is in Paris he won't like it, either. We expect a mail in Plymouth. _Later._ The mail came, and I had a letter from Lee. He is going to Russia for a week, and he folded in an extra piece, saying to give Uncle the letter. It was a funny kind of letter, but of course it had to be a funny kind of letter if I was to give it to Uncle. I gave it to Uncle, and he said, "Hum!" and that was all. He says if Mr. Edgar or Mr. Chopstone stay in Havre he'll know the reason why. I do think Uncle might be more reasonable. Edna has been crying. She doesn't want to stay in Havre; she wants to go to Paris when Harry goes. Yours with love, as ever, YVONNE. II UNCLE JOHN IN ROUEN 9 A.M. "Well, girls, are you ready to get up and out and set about improving your minds? I've been reading the guide-book and spilling my coffee with trying to do two things at once, ever since eight o'clock. But what your Uncle John doesn't know about Rouen now isn't worth stopping to look up in the index. Why, I've even got the real French twang to the pronunciation. It's Rooank; only you stop short of the 'n' and the 'k,' so to speak. The waiter who brought my breakfast showed me how to do it--said he never saw a foreigner catch on to the trick so quick before. I gave him one of those slim little quarters they have here, and he was so pleased that he taught me how to say 'Joan of Arc' for nothing. It's Shondark--_Shondark_. I learned it in no time. Well, come on, if you're ready. I've been waiting almost an hour. [Illustration: Rouen--Maison du XV siècle] "I declare, but this fresh, free atmosphere is refreshing! As soon as you get outside of your bedroom door you begin to get the full benefit of the Continental climate. I presume, if you're poor, you get it as soon as you get outside of your bed clothes. Rather a medieval staircase, eh? And four orange-trees at the bottom to try and fool us into feeling balmy. However, I don't mind little discomforts: all I mind is being shut up on a ship with a darned fool like that man Sibbilly. I shouldn't wonder if his mother was his wife, after all. I could believe anything of him. I didn't like him. "We'll go to take in the cathedral first; it isn't far, and I've got it all by heart. Thirteenth century and unsymmetrical--you must remember that. There, that's it ahead there--with the scaffolding. They're bolstering it up somewhat, so as to keep on hooking tourists, I presume. The biggest tower is the Butter Tower, built out of paid-for permissions to eat butter in Lent. Rather a rough joke, its being so much the biggest, isn't it? The whole cathedral's lopsided from eating butter, so to speak. I believe it's the thing to stop in front and act as if you were overcome; so we'll just call a halt here and take in the general effect of the scaffolding. "Now we'll walk around the whole thing. I haven't come abroad to take life with a hop, skip, and jump; I've come to be thorough, and I want you girls to form the habit of being thorough, too. What I didn't like about that fellow Edgar was his not being thorough. When he went down to look at the ship's machinery he only stayed an hour. Now, I didn't go at all; but if I had gone, I should have stayed more than an hour. Good job of scaffolding, isn't it? You see, they make the scaffolding out of young trees withed together, and use them over and over. Economical. Just about what you'd expect of Sibbilly. Those gargoyles and saints around the top stick their heads out pretty interested-like, don't they? But their view is for the most part blocked. Now this cheerful old jail at the back is the palace of the archbishop. I wish, young ladies, that you would note those little bits of high windows and the good thick bars across them as illustrating the secure faith that the dead and gone archbishops had in their loving people. I'll bet there's been plenty of battering and rioting around under these walls, first and last; plenty of fists and sticks and stones. It's big, isn't it? Big as half a block, and things look so much bigger here than they do at home. They slide a roof up slanting and cock it full of little crooked windows, and you feel as if you must tip over backward to take in the top. I vow, I don't just see how it's done; but--oh, here's where we go in. This dark, damp little stone-paved alley is the celebrated 'Portail des Libraires,' so called because those arcades used to be full of book-stalls. We go along on the cobble-stones, throw ourselves hard against this little swinging door; it creaks, it yields, we enter--hush! "Great Scott, isn't it big, and _isn't_ it damp? Will you look up in that roof? I feel solemn in spite of myself; but, then, feeling solemn is no use: what we want to do is to find some one to open those big iron gates, for the most of what is to see is in back there. Edna, you ask that man how we can get hold of some other man. Well, what did he say? Said to ask the Swiss, did he? What does he mean by that? Is it a joke, or can't they trust a Frenchman with their old relics? I've been told that in Japanese banks they always have to have a Chinaman to handle the money, and maybe it's equally the thing in a French cathedral to have a Swiss look after the relics. But the guide-book never said a word about a Swiss: it said '_fee_,' and I've got my pocket full of them. "Well, where can we get a Swiss? I should think he'd be more handy than he appears to be. There's another man looking for him, too. He--Great Scott! if it isn't--no, that is impossible. Yes, it is! "I beg your pardon, sir, but is your name Porter? Yes? Robert Porter--Bobby Porter that went to the Washington School? Bob, do you remember me? Well, of all the larks! "Girls, this man and I went to school side by side for eight years, and he's the finest--my nieces, Bob. That's Edna and this is Yvonne, and--you don't say he's your son? Didn't know you ever married. Oh, I'll take your word for it, of course; but, I say, Bob, you've got to come and dine with us to-night. You must; I won't have it any other way. You and I'll have to just sit down and overhaul all our old memories together. Do you remember--but how do you come to be in Europe, anyhow; and what liner did you line up on? We had a beastly trip,--only came from Havre last night,--and, by the way, how in thunder can we get hold of the man who opens these iron gates? Everything in the place is back there. "Is that a Swiss--that splendid circus-chariot driver? Give you my word, I thought he was a cardinal! How much of a tip is that much gold lace going to look forward to getting? I wish he was plainer, somehow. I'll tell you, Bob; you pay, and I'll settle up later. I certainly am glad to see the gates open; I felt more like a serpent shut out of paradise than I ever expected to feel in all my life. "Well, now we begin. Who's buried here? Henry II of England, eh? I can't read Latin, so Henry's virtues and dates are all one to me. Which Henry was he, anyhow--the one with six wives or the one who never shed a smile? Either way, let's move on. "What comes next? Richard-Coeur-de-Lion--petrified, eh? Oh, only a statue of him; that's less interesting. I thought at last I was looking at Richard when he was himself again. What is our Swiss friend hissing about? Heart buried underneath? Whose heart?--Richard's? Ask if it's his bona fide heart or only a death-mask of it? Strikes me as a pretty big statue to put up to a heart, don't you think, Bob? But come on; I want to be looking at something else. [Illustration: "'Richard Coeur-de-Lion--petrified, eh?'"] "So this is the tomb of the husband of Diana of Poitiers? I didn't know she ever had a husband--thought she only had a king. I've never been brought up to think of Diana of Poitiers mourning a husband. But maybe she did, maybe she did. They say you must check your common sense at the hotel when you set out to inspect Europe, and I believe it--I believe it. It's a nice tomb, and if they kneel and mourn in a gown with a train, she certainly is doing it up brown. However, let's go on. "Two cardinals of Amboise kind of going in procession on their knees over their own dead bodies--or maybe it's only hearts again. Well, Bob, the Reformation was a great thing, after all, wasn't it? Must have felt fine to straighten up for a while. Stop a bit; the guide-book said there was something to examine about these two--wait till I find the place. Oh, well, never mind; I dare say a guide-book's very handy, but I move we quit this damp old hole, anyway. I wouldn't bother to come again. That's a sad thing about life, Bob; as soon as you get in front of anything and get a square look at it, you're ready to move on--at least I am. "What's he saying? Well, ask him again. Whose grave? Well, ask him again. Rollo's! What, Rollo that was 'At Work' and 'At Play' and at everything else when we were kids? Another? What other? Well, ask him. Rollo the Norman? I don't see anything very remarkable in a Norman being buried in Normandy, do you, Bob? When did he die? Well, _ask_ him. What are we paying him for, anyway? Died about 900, eh! And this church wasn't built till four hundred years later. Where did he spend the time while he was waiting to be buried? Well, ask him. I declare, if I could talk French, I bet I'd know something about things. You are the _dumbest_ lot! Here's Rollo lying around loose for as long as we've had America with us, and no one takes any interest in where. Is that the tomb he finally got into? Clever idea to have it so dark no one can see it, after all. I suppose he thinks we'll be impressed, but I ain't. I don't believe Rollo's in there, anyhow. "Come on; I'm tired of this old church. I move that we go out and look at the place where they burned Joan of Arc, or something else that is bright and cheerful. What's he saying? No, I don't want to see any treasury; I've done enough church-going for one week-day. Give him his money, Bob, and let's get out. You tell us where to go next; you must know everything, if you were here all day yesterday. I want to see that double-faced clock and those carvings of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. They're all over in the same direction. "Good to be out in the air, eh? I vow, I never was great on churches. What boat did you come over on? Did it roll? Ours rolled and pitched, too. I never saw such a rolling. I tell you, Bob, the man will make a fortune who invents a level liner. I used to try and figure on how to hang the passenger department in an open square, so it could swing free,--do you get the idea?--but I don't know as it could be managed. I was trying to work it out one morning, and I came up against the wash-stand so sudden that I thought I was cut in two; the next second I went backward so quick that the edge of the berth nearly amputated my legs; and then the whole craft arose on such a swell that I swallowed half my tooth-brush. You may laugh, Bob, but I'm not telling this to be funny; I'm telling it for a fact. I had to have the steward in to put the washing-apparatus to rights, and I asked him what in thunder was up outside. He was standing at an angle of forty-five degrees, looking up at me where I sat in the lower berth, and he said, 'If the wind shifts, we're very likely to have it rough.' Just then he took on an angle of ninety-five degrees, and my trunk slid out on his feet so quick he had to hop. I said: 'Have it _rough_, eh? Well, I'm glad to know, so that I can take advantage of this calm spell.' [Illustration: "'So that's the clock!'"] "So that's the clock! Well, it's a big one, surely--almost as wide as the street, although candor compels us to own that the street is about the narrowest ever. All right, I'm done; a clock is a clock, and one look in its face always tells me all I want to know. Come on; we can't stand dilly-dallying if we're to get through Rouen to-day, and I must say I consider a day to a town as quite enough in Europe. I know, when I was young and traveled for wholesale shoes, I used often and often to do three towns a day and never turn a hair. I tell you, Bob, when I was-- "Is that the fountain? Hold on; we want to see that! The guide-book has it in italics. I don't see anything to underline, though; looks foreign to me. Come on; we've got to be getting somewhere, or I shall feel I was a fool to stop off at Rouen. Not that I'm not glad to have met you again, Bob; but that could have happened anywhere else just as well, you know. When did you come over? Last year! Great Scott, what are you staying so long for? I bet I get enough in six weeks; I feel as if I'd got pretty close to enough now. Not that time ever hangs heavy on my hands, you know. No, not by a long shot. I'm the kind of man that can always amuse himself. Give me a fair show,--off a ship, of course,--and I'll defy any one to get on better. Take the day we landed, for instance, there in Havre,--rainy, not a thing to do, and every one else off for Paris. You might have looked for me to be a little disgusted, naturally; but not a bit of it. The day went like the wind. We landed at noon, I slept all the afternoon, and in the evening I took a bath. I tell you, Bob, a fellow with brains can get on anywhere. I never know what it is to feel bored. "What's our Goddess of Liberty doing up there? What's that Indian beadwork around her feet for? Who? You don't mean to tell me that's Joan of Arc? Well, all I can say is, I never imagined her like that. But what are the beads? French funeral wreaths! Great Scott! do they keep Charlemagne wreathed, too, or is five hundred years the bead-wreath limit? Pretty idea, to put up a fountain where they burnt her--keep her memory damp at all events, eh? What's the moral of her train turning into a dolphin? Just to bring the mind gradually down to the level of the fact that it is a fountain, after all, I suppose. "She wasn't burnt here, anyhow, the book said. The book said she was burnt farther over. Smart people here--have two places where she was burnt, so people must trot through the whole market if they try to be conscientious. Look at that woman, with her bouquet of live chickens--novel effect in chickens, eh, Bob? Strikes me it was an enterprising idea to burn Joan in the market, anyhow--good business for the market. Folks come to see the statue, and incidentally buy some peanuts. "Well, where can we go now? I say to set out and have a look at the tower where she was imprisoned. Pulled down! It isn't, either; it's starred in the book. What's that? This tower named for her, and hers pulled down! Well, there's French honor for you again. What do you think of Sibbilly now, Edna? I don't want to see the tower if it ain't the real one. I want to see the bas-reliefs of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and then I want to go back to the hotel to lunch. I tell you, this sight-seeing is a great appetizer. The more old ruins and burnings I look over, the hungrier I get. "Is this the place? Makes me think of a sort of glorified gate to a woodyard. What is it, now? Well, ask somebody! A bank, eh? Are those the famous bas-reliefs? Those! Them! Well, well, I must say the touring public is easy game. They're all worn off. What's the tin overhead for? To keep the rain from damaging them, eh? Pretty bit of sarcasm, eh, Bob? Great pity they didn't think to put it four or five hundred years sooner. I don't see a man with a head or a horse with a leg from here. It lacks character, to my idea. Let's go home. Come on. I've racked around Rouen all I care to for one day." III YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Rouen._ Dearest Mama: It is midnight, and I must tell you the most astonishing piece of news. We came here with Uncle last night, and all this morning we were out with him. When we came home and unlocked our room we found _Lee_ sitting by the window. But he doesn't want Uncle to know. It was fortunate that Uncle's room is across the hall, for I screamed. We couldn't see how he got in, but he says that he has bent a buttonhook so that he can travel all over Europe. It seems he never meant to go to Russia at all; but he doesn't want Uncle to know. He says he thinks Russia is a good place for Uncle to imagine him in. We had such fun! We told him all about the voyage and all about Uncle. He says M. Sibilet's mother _is_ his wife--he married her for money. He says he's a painter. Lee is really going yachting, but he doesn't want Uncle to know. He isn't going for a while, though; and he doesn't want Uncle to know that, either. While we were talking, Uncle rapped, and Lee had to get into the wardrobe while Uncle came in and read us a lecture. When we were in the cathedral to-day he found a man he used to know in school, and he was utterly overjoyed until he saw that the man had a son; and then, of course, he was worried over the son. So he came in to-night to tell us that it he discovered any skylarking, he should at once give up a friendship which had always meant more to him than we young things could possibly imagine. He said we must understand that he'd have no sort of foolishness going on, and at that the wardrobe creaked so awfully that Edna had a fit of coughing, and I didn't know what I should have if he kept on. He didn't go until it was high lunch-time, and I was afraid Lee would have to stay in the wardrobe until he smothered. When Uncle was gone, Edna asked Lee how under the sun he kept still, and he said he nearly died, because so many hooks hooked into his coat and he had nothing to perch on except shoe-trees. I do think Lee is so clever. I wish Uncle thought so, too. He went to his room, and we lunched with Uncle, Mr. Porter, and Mr. Porter, Jr.; and afterward we visited the church of the Bon-Secours and the monument to Jeanne d'Arc. She stands on top, her hands manacled, with her big, frightened eyes staring sadly and steadily out over the town where she met death. Uncle admired her so much that he tripped on one of the sheep that are carved on the steps, and after that he didn't admire anything or anybody. We got back about five, and Lee came in for a visit of an hour. Lee says he had a fine voyage. It stormed, and he says he never was battened down with such a lively lot of people. Uncle came in twice while he was there, but Lee has the wardrobe by heart now, and doesn't take a second. He says the men he's going yachting with are great sport, and he expects to have the time of his life. I do wish Uncle liked Lee, so that he could go around with us these days; he would be so much fun. We are going to Jumièges to-morrow, Uncle says. Lee says he must take the early train for Havre. He's just been in to say good-by. He brought a cherry-tart and his shoe-horn, and we had ours, and so we had no trouble at all in eating it. It has raised my spirits lots, seeing Lee. It seemed so terrible for him to go off to Russia like that. Uncle spoke of it yesterday. He said he was glad to have one worry off his mind and safe in Russia. The wardrobe squeaked merrily. Now good-by. Love from YVONNE. IV YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Rouen._ Dear Mama: Lee is gone. I do wish he could have stayed longer, but he thought it was risky. Uncle John was sure he smelt cigarette smoke in my room, and although it wasn't true at all, Edna cried and said the wardrobe was getting on her nerves, and Lee said he reckoned he'd take his button-hook and move on. We had an awful time bidding him good-by, for Uncle came in three times, and the second time he had lost his umbrella and thought it must be in our wardrobe. I never was so frightened in all my life; for, you know, if Uncle had been hunting for his umbrella and had found Lee, he wouldn't have liked it at all. Edna volunteered to look in the wardrobe, and I know I must have looked queer, for Uncle asked if I'd taken cold. You know how much I think of Lee, but I couldn't help being relieved when he was gone. It is such a responsibility to have a man in your wardrobe so much of the time. He said that I must try to steer Uncle toward Brittany, because he'll be yachting all around there. He says I must mark places in the Baedeker with strips of paper. He says that's a fine way to make any one go anywhere, and that if Edna and I will talk Italy and mark Brittany, Uncle is almost sure to wind up in the Isle of Jersey. Lee says he wishes he'd been kinder to Uncle in America, and then he'd like him better in Europe. He's afraid Uncle will never forgive him for taking him bobbing that time and dumping him off in the snow. It was too bad. We went to Jumièges to-day. Uncle found it in the guide-book, and we took an eleven-o'clock train. Mr. Porter and his son were late, and just had time to get into the rear third-class coach. Uncle was much distressed until we came to Yainville, where the train stopped, and they got out. Uncle wanted them to get in with us, and he talked so forcibly on the subject that the train nearly started again before Mr. Porter could make him understand that Yainville is where you get off for Jumièges. I do wish it wasn't so hard to turn Uncle's ideas another way when he's got them all wrong. Yainville has a red-brick depot on the edge of a pleasant, rolling prairie, but there is a little green omnibus to hyphenate it with Jumièges. We were a very tight fit inside, for of course we could only sit in Uncle's lap, and he didn't suggest it, so I had to hold Edna; and Mr. Porter and his son knew Uncle well enough not to suggest taking her. I thought that we should never get there; and it was so tantalizing, for the country became beautiful, and we could only see it in little triangular bits between shoulders and hats. Young Mr. Porter wanted to get out and walk, but Uncle said, "Young man, when you are as old as I am, you will know as much as I do," so he gave up the idea. I do believe we were cooped up for a solid hour before we finally rolled down a little bit of a hill into a little bit of a village, and climbed stiffly out into the open air. We all had to cry out with wonder and admiration then, it was really so wonderful. On one side were the hills, with the Seine winding off toward Paris; and on the other side was the wood, with the ragged ruins of the abbey-church walls towering up out of the loftiest foliage. Uncle thought we had better go and see all there was to be seen directly, so we walked off down the little road with a funny feeling of being partly present and partly past, but very well content. The story goes that one of the ancient French kings took two young princes of a rival house, crippled them, put them on a boat, and set them afloat at Paris. They drifted down the current as far as this spot, and here they were rescued. They founded a monastery in gratitude, and their tomb was in the church, which is now in ruins. Later we saw the stone, with their effigies, in the little museum by the gate. They were called "Les Deux Enervés," in reference to their mutilation. Uncle thought the word meant "nervous," and we heard him say to Mr. Porter, "Well, who wouldn't have been, under the circumstances?" The whole of the abbey is now the private property of a lady who lives in a nice house up over back beyond somewhere. She built the lodge, and also a little museum for relics from the ruins, and has stopped the wholesale carrying off of stones from the beautiful remnants of what must have once been a truly superb monument. I am sure I shall never in all my life see anything more grand or impressive than the building as it is to-day. It is much the same plan as the cathedral at Rouen, only that that has been preserved, and this has been long abandoned. It is so curious to think of the choir which we saw yesterday, with its chapels and stained glass, and then to compare it with this roofless and windowless one, out of the tops of the walls of which fir-trees--big ones--are growing. You don't know what a strange sensation it is to see trees growing out of the tops of ruined walls the foundations of which were laid by Charlemagne's relatives. Edna and I felt very solemn, and Uncle was quiet ever so long, and then only said, "I vow!" The grass is growing in the nave and transept, and the big carved pediments stick up through the turf here and there, with moss and lichen clinging to the shadowy sides. The rows of pillars are pretty even, and the set of big arches above are mostly all there still. There were a third and a fourth gallery above, and although they are fallen away in places, still you can see exactly how it used to be. When you look away up to the fourth tier of columns, the main walls of the nave are still soaring higher yet; and when you follow the sky-line of their vastness, you see the two mighty towers rising, rising, straight up toward heaven, with the rooks whirling and circling about them and screaming in the oddest, most awfully mournful manner. I'm sure I shall never feel the same way again, not even if I live to be a thousand years old myself. I felt overcome; I felt a way that I never felt before. I don't know what I felt. Uncle was delighted; he sighed with satisfaction. "This is the real thing," he said to Mr. Porter; "I like this. You can see that there's been no tampering with _this_ ruin." Mr. Porter looked up at the sky above and said: "I should say that there had been considerable tampering with this ruin. I will take my oath that the whole of the little town yonder was built with the stone taken from these walls and those of the monastery buildings." [Illustration: "There's been no tampering with _this_ ruin"] Uncle is getting very nervous over Mr. Porter, Jr., because he walks around with Edna so much; so we were not allowed out of his sight during the visit, and didn't explore half as much as we wanted to. The little museum was really very interesting, and had the tombstone of one of Joan of Arc's judges. I feel very sorry for Joan's poor judges. They had to do as they were bid, and have been execrated for it ever since. We came home late in the afternoon, and Mr. Porter found a telegram calling him to Brussels on business, so he and his son said good-by hurriedly and took a half-past-six train. Uncle said at dinner that it was a strange thing to see how, after forty-five years of seeing the world, a man could still be the same as when one had to do all his sums for him at school. We absorbed this luminous proposition in silence, and then Uncle looked severely at Edna and said that at the rate that things were progressing he wouldn't have been surprised to have had a John Gilpin in the family any day. We were struck dumb at this threat or prophecy or whatever was intended, and went meekly to bed. Edna had a letter from Lee and I had one from Harry. Lee didn't dare write me and Harry didn't dare write Edna because of Uncle. But they each sent the other their love. Uncle wants to go to Gisors to-morrow. P. S. I must add a line to tell you that Mrs. Braytree and the four girls have arrived. They saw Uncle on the stairs coming up, and all came straight to our room. They landed yesterday, and had a real good passage, only Eunice fell out of the berth and sprained her wrist. She has it in a sling. They had a hard time arranging about the dog, as the hotel didn't want him in the rooms. He is one of those dogs that look scratchy and whiny at the first glance. Mrs. Braytree has lost her keys, so she sat with us while the hotel people got a man to open her trunks. She says she's in no hurry to unpack, for she had so many bottles she's almost positive one cork at least must have come out. They entirely forgot to bring any hairpins and suffered dreadfully on shipboard on that account. They had trouble with one of their port-holes too, and Mrs. Braytree and Uncle are both going to carry crowbars at sea hereafter. They are going to stay here a week. It's so nice to meet some one from home! Always yours lovingly, YVONNE. V UNCLE JOHN EN ROUTE _Rouen._ "Come on, girls, this is quite an expedition. I vow I shook a little when Mrs. Braytree suggested coming, too. Seven women to one man would be too many for comfort as a general thing; but your Uncle John never shows the white feather, so I only drew the line at the dog. Why the devil five women want to travel with one dog and eight trunks I can't see; but if I was Mrs. Braytree, I'd probably know more about it. Curious little creature, the cross-eyed one, isn't she? And that Pauline--always wanting to be somewhere else. I told her pretty flatly at dinner that if she couldn't get any more fun out of Rouen than by wishing it was St. Augustine, she'd better have stayed in New York. Anything but these fault-finders. "Well, ain't you ready? I've sent the luggage along, and it seems to me that we ought to be following its good example. Lord knows, two days is enough to waste in an old hole like Rouen; I was wondering last night what we ever came for. I never was so cold anywhere in my life, and sleeping on a slope with a pillow on your feet isn't my idea of comfort at night, anyhow. I don't understand the moral of the scheme, and the pillow keeps sliding, and I keep swearing, all night long. Also, I can't learn to appreciate the joy of standing on a piece of oil-cloth to wash. I must say that one needs to wear an overcoat and ear-muffs to wash here, anyhow. I was dancing under the bell-rope and ringing for hot water a good half-hour this morning. I'm going to write and have the asterisk subtracted from this hotel. "Well, come on, if you're ready. Whose umbrella is that getting left by the door? Mine? I vow, I didn't remember putting it down. But no one can think of everything. Edna, is this soap yours? No? Well, I just asked. I seem to have left mine somewhere, and it's live and learn. Come on! come on! "Good morning, Mrs. Braytree--Eunice--Emma--Pauline--Augusta. I reckon we'd better be hustling along pretty promptly. The train doesn't go until five minutes after the time, if we don't hurry. It's truly a pleasure having you join us, Mrs. Braytree. A little excursion like this makes such a pleasant break in the routine of sight-seeing, I think, and these quaint old--there, all get out now, I have the money. I'll take the tickets; we're all full-fare, aren't we? Or--how old is the little cross-eyed one? I _beg_ your pardon, Mrs. Braytree, but I had to know in a hurry. "There, come on! come on! Squeeze through. Se--ven women and one man. Hurry! we want a compartment, here--no, there. Run, Edna, and get ahead of that old lady; here's two umbrellas to throw crossways, and then you can tell her there's no room, and the law will uphold you. You look surprised, Mrs. Braytree, but I learned that little trick coming from Havre. I tell you, by the time I get to Paris I'll be on to every kind of game going. I learn fast--take to Europe as a duck takes to water, so to speak. "Well, we're off for Gisors. Great pleasure to have you with us, Mrs. Braytree; no more work to steer seven--Good Lord! there aren't but six here! Who isn't here? Edna's gone! What is it, Yvonne? I sent her ahead, did I? Oh, so I did, so I did. And of course she is waiting for us. Poor child! I hope she's not worried. As soon as we get out of the tunnel I'll hang out of the window and holler to her. Very convenient method of talking to your friends aboard, Mrs. Braytree; only I should think a good many would lose their heads as a consequence. However, as the majority of the heads would be foreigners', I don't suppose it would matter much in the long run. "Speaking of Gisors, Mrs. Braytree, it's really a very interesting place--according to the guide-book. As far as I'm personally concerned, I'd be willing to take the time to go there to learn how to pronounce it. The workings of the mind which laid out the way to speak French don't at all jibe with the workings of the mind which laid out the way to spell it--not according to my way of thinking. There's that place which we've just left, for instance,--'Ruin' as plain as the nose on your--on anybody's face,--and its own inhabitants can't see it--pronounce the R in a way that I should think would make their tongues feel furry, and then end up as if, on second thought, they wouldn't end at all. "Yvonne, I wish you'd hang out and see if you see any of Edna hanging out. I declare, this is a very trying situation to be in. You don't know what a trip I had, Mrs. Braytree, trying to keep track of these girls; and since we landed--well, I just had to call a halt in Havre and come off alone. Curious place, Havre, don't you think? See any one you knew there? We--who did you say? Why, that can't be, he's in Russia. Yvonne, didn't that young reprobate write you he was going to Russia? Yes, I thought so. Well, Mrs. Braytree says she saw him in Havre. Good joke his not knowing we were in Rouen; he'd have been down there in a jiffy, I'll bet anything. But your Uncle John is a rather tough customer to handle, and I expect that young man knows the fact, and so thought it best to give Rouen a wide berth. Not that I have anything in particular against young Reynolds, only I don't consider that any girl could be happy with him. And it's foolish to have a man around unless you can make him happy--I mean unless he can make you happy. My wife was very happy up to the time she developed melancholia--a sad disease, Mrs. Braytree. Yvonne, I wish you'd hang out and see if you can see anything of Edna. "I presume this is as good a time as we'll have to study up a little on Gisors. It seems to have been the capital of the Vexin. I shouldn't be surprised if 'vex' and 'vexing' both come from that country, for the guide-book gives it as always in hot water. The French and English were both up against it most of the time, and it was vexin' with a vengeance. It says here that the old city walls are still standing and that Henry II built the castle. Isn't he the one we peeked around in Rouen? Yes, I thought so. It says that there's very little left of the castle, though. I must say I'm always glad when I read that there's not much left of anything; it gives me a quiet, rested sort of feeling." _Gisors._ [Illustration: "'This is as good a time as we'll have to study up on Gisors'"] "Well, here we get out. I'll swing down first. If French trains were American, they'd have trapezes or elevators to--get--out--by. Here, give me your hand, Yvonne--oh, there's Edna. Well, I vow, who has she got--if it isn't--Yvonne, isn't that that young man--how d'ye do, Edgar? Delighted to see you again. Our friend, Mrs. Braytree, and all the others are her daughters. Come, Edna; you come with me while I check this trunk. Where in thunder did you get that fellow from? How does he come to be in Rouen? Did you know he was in Rouen? Did you see him while he was there? I declare, I never will travel with any women again unless I am married to them. This is awful. Don't you know I'm responsible for you two girls? And I send you ahead to get a compartment, and you find Edgar--it makes me want to swear. Say, was there any one else with you? Worse and worse. I was afraid there was something wrong when we kept hanging out and you never hung out at all. Well, we'll have to go back and gather them all up. Yes, I'll be polite to him; but, Edna, I hope you understand distinctly that a man like that could never make any woman-- "Yes, Mrs. Braytree, here we are again; and now we'll all proceed over Gisors. Pretty place, don't you think? Picturesque. Did you ever see so many canals--or smell so many?--and the little cottages out of another century? Packed roofs--green trees--well-sweeps--I like this; I'm glad I had the sense to come here. Edgar, will you oblige me by carrying that cane so that child doesn't come within an ace of catching her mouth on it every other second? I declare, Mrs. Braytree, I wish we hadn't run on to that young man. Of course he's a nice fellow and all that, but young men are a great trial when you have two-- "Let's turn down here. Most of the streets seem to be canal tow-paths. I vow, this _is_ pretty. I could settle down in a place like this and live till I died. What do you suppose the people here do to amuse themselves, anyhow? From the way they look at us with their mouths open I should imagine that we were regarded in the light of a great event. And if that's the case, they must be pretty hard up for sport. Oh, well, I presume it's enough for them to paddle about on the green waters and stir up the miasma--as much sense as foreigners have. "And so these are the walls--ramparts, I mean. Well, they're fairly high. Wonder how high they are, anyhow? Edgar, will you do me the courtesy not to be pointing to the left with that cane of yours when I turn suddenly to the right again? I beg your pardon for seeming heated, Mrs. Braytree; but he really-- "Let's find a gate and go in; seems to be a park inside. I should think there _was_ 'little left to be seen of the castle!' I don't see anything at all of it. Maybe they took it down and built the walls higher just to fool tourists. Well, I didn't come to Gisors to caper about in a park; let's go out and look at the church--the guide-book says the church is worth seeing. I think there's something very touching about guide-book enthusiasm: it keeps up so consistently right through to the end. I feel as if my own enthusiasm was most run through now. I don't know how Paris will affect me. Edgar, if I trip on that cane you'll have to pay my doctor's bill. What makes you handle it as you do, anyway? I like to see a cane light and alert--not one that drags through the world in the style of yours. To judge from your cane, I should say you hadn't been in bed before three for a month. I have to speak sharply to that fellow, Mrs. Braytree; he is about as wooden-headed as they make. Came across the ocean with us, and pestered the life out of me. You don't know what an ocean voyage is with two attractive girls--I _beg_ your pardon; I forgot your four. Dear me! we were speaking of--yes--of Gisors, of course. I vow, I'm disappointed in it as a whole. I wish we'd gone to Les Andelys instead. Les Andelys is marked with an asterisk in the guide-book, and there's a castle there built by Coeur-de-Lion. By the way, Mrs. Braytree, the Coeur-de-Lion _itself_ is buried in Rouen. Did you know that? Nice joke, eh? But, dear, dear, if there's no castle here when we get here, perhaps there'd be none there when we got there. I'm beginning to look upon Europe as a confidence-game; I-- "Well is _that_ the castle! Great Scott! but it must have been big. It's big yet, and the book said there was very little left to see. I'm beginning to lose faith in that book. Picturesque idea, having the park hide the ruins till you come right smash on to them. Clever people, the French; make everything put the best foot foremost. Fine old round tower; nice tumble-down guard-chamber! I like this. Let's go around the other side. Great place, eh? Worth a trip to see. Edgar, let me have your cane to point with. There, do you see that old staircase? Looks Roman to me; what do you think? I tell you, a man could write an historical novel out of old ruins if he prowled long enough. Come on now; let's meander on down town and look at the church. As soon as I look at anything, I'm always ready to look at something else. Let's go out on this side and go back to town the other way. Then we'll look at the church, and then we'll put you and Edgar on the train for Rouen, Mrs. Braytree. What did you say, Yvonne? He isn't going to Rouen? Where is he going? To Paris with us! Well, well, well! all I can say is, I do admire his nerve. I never in all my life went where I wasn't asked, and took a cane. Now don't you see why no woman could be happy with a man like that? I never saw the beat. I tell you frankly, Yvonne, I don't like his ways and I don't like him. If you girls had let him alone on the boat, he'd have let us alone here. I declare, my day is just about spoiled. Your mother has trusted you girls to me, and I haven't drawn a quiet breath since. I did take a little comfort there in Rouen; but if I'd known that Lee was in Havre, I'd have been on thorns even there. "Well, where is the church? Ask some one. What did she say? Down here? Down we go, then. Ah, I suppose that's it under the sidewalk. Nice commanding situation for a church, to grade a street by its tower! Why don't they put in the guide-book, 'Street commands a fine view of the roof?' There isn't time to go inside unless Mrs. Braytree wants to miss her train, and we don't want her to do that. "This is the street to the _gare_, and we'll run right along. I expect we can get something to eat there, and get that 1:30 train for Beauvais. There isn't anything in Beauvais that would interest you, Mrs. Braytree; but there's a church there that I want to see. The guide-book says that Mr. Ruskin says that the roof has got a clear vertical fall that not many rocks in the Alps can equal; I don't just know what a clear vertical fall may be, but if there's a church anywhere near as high as an Alp, I don't want to miss seeing it. "There's the clock. You just have time to get aboard comfortably. Don't you want to go with them, Edgar? Well, I thought maybe you might. Good-by, good-by; delighted to have met you. Good-by. Oh, yes, of course. In Paris. "There, they're gone, darn 'em! Now let's get some lunch. Did you ever see such a collection as those girls? It must have been a bitter pill when, after managing to assimilate the looks of the three oldest, the little one appeared with her eyes laid out bias. Come in here; we can get something to eat here, I don't care what; but I want plenty. Don't lose your cane, Edgar; life wouldn't be life to you without it, I expect. I like these country hotel entrances, through a carriage-house and a duck-yard, fall over a cat, and come in. Tell her we want dinner for four, and prompt. You put that in good forcible French for me, Edgar, and I'll be grateful to you till I die. Let's sit down. Let's eat." _Beauvais._ "Now, young people, I call this making a day count. This is my idea of getting about. Breakfast in Rouen, lunch in Gisors, Beauvais for a sandwich, and we'll dine in Paris. "What time is it? Three o'clock. Well, we want to head straight for that cathedral. Seems as if it ought to show most anywhere over a little, low town like this, but I don't see it. Ask someone--ask any one. Well, what did they say? Right across the square. Whose statue is that in the middle? Joan of Arc? Jeanne Hachette? Who was Jeanne Hachette? Girl who captured flag from Charles the Bold, eh? Is that why they called him 'the Bold'? Sort of sarcastic on his letting a girl carry off his flag, I should consider. Well, when did she live? Has she got her year under her? 1492. Seventy years after Joan. I shouldn't have thought she'd have inspired other young women in this part of the country to emulate her. [Illustration: "'Tell her we want dinner for four, and prompt'"] "Do we go up here? Ugh, how I hate walking over cobble-stones! Clean; of course they're clean. I didn't say that I thought they were dirty. I said I hated to walk on 'em. "What's that chopped-off creation before us? _Not_ the cathedral? Well--I--vow! "Is _that_ what I--what we-- [Illustration: Beauvais] "Where's the front of it? What _did_ happen to it? And what _was_ Mr. Ruskin thinking of when he compared it to an Alp! I don't want to fall off of anywhere, but I'd choose the roof of that cathedral to start from any day in preference to the lowest Alp they make. 'Clear vertical fall' eh? I wish I knew what that meant. "Well, let's go in. Where's the door? That little, unpretentious one looks feasible. Come on. Well, Edgar, are you coming, too, or do you choose to stay outside with your stick? I can't help it, Edna; I feel irritated at his being here at all, and then I'm naturally disappointed over this church. I must say the biggest thing about it is that blank wall stopping up where they left off. This is the kind of thing I've come several thousand miles to look at, is it? Well, may as well go in, I suppose. "So this is in the inside! Fine lot of carpets hung up to try and cover the deficiencies, eh?--High roof,--funny sort of shock you get whenever you look towards the front. Sort of like turning around and hitting your cane, eh, Edgar? Girls, this cathedral was begun in 1180, time of Henry II, and they quit in 1555 while Bloody Mary was abroad and never got to the front end in the four hundred years. Well, well! dear, dear! [Illustration: "'What's that chopped-off creation before us?'"] "Come on, girls, we may as well go out; I feel like going to the station and heading for Paris. I suppose that's the next move in the game. You can stay here as long as you like, Edgar; we won't hurry you. "Come, Yvonne, you walk with me. Did you ever see anything like that young man's gall? Your friend Lee couldn't make any points around him. Just hooks right on to us, and stays hooked. I declare, if I carried a cane I bet I'd give him one punch he'd remember long after. I'd sincerely beg his pardon. I didn't like him on the steamer; I've got no use for young men of his stamp. I--" _Gare du Nord, Paris._ "So this is Paris! Now, Edgar, I have one favor to ask of you--will you kindly allow me to manage my own affairs while you manage yours? I know just what to do, and I'll take Yvonne with me to do it. You can take Edna up to the hotel. Looked disappointed, didn't he? Counting on endearing himself to me forever by his able-bodied assistance, I'll wager; but I don't want any young man minding my business. Tell that blue blouse to take these checks and look up five trunks in a hurry. What did he say? We haven't got to overhaul them again here, have we? Well, I am--I certainly just _am_. Have we got to hunt 'em up? Where? Well, ask him? Round back of this crazy mob? Well, tell him to go first. What's this system of wildly speculating wheat-pits? Baggage-counters, eh? And will you look at the baggage! Talk about your 'clear vertical falls!' Those trunks on top will soon know more than Ruskin ever did. "Where's our man gone? Yvonne, do you know where that fellow went to? Well, ask some one. Look out--that baggage truck will be Juggernauting right over you before you know it. Now, where _is_ the porter? I call this a pretty state of affairs--porter, valises, and trunk-checks all gone together. I thought you were watching him or I would have done so. Do you suppose we ought to speak to a policeman? I think we ought to. But will you look at the trunk-unlocking that's going on--good as a play--look how mad that old lady is; hear her give it to him in good English. Guess something got broke in transit. Keep a sharp eye out for that porter, Yvonne. Here come some more trunks, and more, and more yet. I wonder if this is regular, or if we've struck a rush. Where _is_ that porter? I think we ought to be speaking to a policeman, don't you? Here's a choice new invoice of a couple of thousand more trunks; that fellow will never be able to find ours, I know. Supposing he has found them and gone off with them already. Hey, look at that lady jumping up and down! She sees _her_ trunk, I'll bet a dollar. Well, I'd jump up and down if I could see mine. Yvonne, I really think we ought to speak to a policeman. Could you give a description of the man? I only remember that he wore a blue blouse. Oh, yes; and he had 'Commissionaire' across the front of his cap. Hello, here are nine trucks all at once, just a few million more additions to the turmoil. I tell you, we won't get out of here to-night, I don't believe. I vow, I wish I'd given the checks to Edgar, as he suggested. I really think we ought to be calling a policeman. Here are fourteen trucks all loaded to the gunwales, and two mass-meetings and one convention of tourists all at once. Yvonne, this is beginning to look serious to me; I think that really we ought to call-- [Illustration: "'Look how mad that old lady is'"] "Oh, there he is with the whole of the stuff on one truck. Good idea; smart chap; and he wasn't so very long either, considering." VI YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Paris._ Dearest Mama: Well we _are_ arrived! It _is_ Paris at last! But I thought we should surely die in transit. I don't know what Uncle would have said if he had known that Lee was in Rouen; he was dreadfully upset over Mrs. Braytree's telling him that she saw Lee in Havre. He was very unreasonable, and laid it up against Lee that Mrs. Braytree saw him. Just as if Lee could help it. We had a pretty good time coming down, only Mr. Edgar came up and came down with us, and of course Uncle did not like that. I think that Mr. Edgar came up to come down with me because we had a lovely time on the steamer coming over together, but Uncle hardly gave me a chance to speak to him. Uncle seems just instinctively to know whom Edna and I want to talk to, and then won't let us. But of course I'm not complaining, for it was lovely of him to give us this trip, and we're enjoying every minute. We arrived last night, and the only drawback is that Mrs. Clary isn't here. She left a note, and M. Sibilet's wife _is_ his mother, and has a place out at Neuilly, and they were invited there for three days. She will be back to-morrow, and she left word for us to go straight to the Bon Marché and look at the white suits; so we did so. We told Uncle it was all right for us to go alone, and he had just gotten his mail, so he only said "Hum!" and we went. Just as we were taking the cab, who should we see but Mr. Chopstone. It was so lovely to see him again, and he got into the cab and went with us. We went to the Bon Marché, but it wasn't much fun with a man, so we came out after a little, and he proposed taking the Subway and going to the Trocadero. Just then we met a man that Mr. Chopstone knew, and he had red hair and eye-glasses. Mr. Chopstone introduced him, and invited him to go along; but he said it was no use, because it was the wrong day and we couldn't get in when we got there. By this time we were down in the Subway, and Mr. Chopstone suggested that we go to the Bois, so as not to have to go back up the stairs again. While we were talking, the train came and went in a terrible hurry, and we got aboard in between. After we were off, we found that Mr. Chopstone wasn't on. We didn't know what to do, because, of course, it was he that we knew, and not the red-haired man. The red-haired man said he would do whatever we pleased, and Edna thought we had better get right off; but I thought we ought to go right on. We didn't know _what_ to do, and so we kept on to the Bois. The Bois was just lovely--all automobiles and babies; and who do you think we met? Betty Burleigh. We were so surprised, for I thought she was in California for her lungs; but it seems that she's been in Dresden for her music all winter, and now she's here for her clothes. She was with an elderly French lady, and I don't think that the elderly French lady liked to have her stop and talk to us. I thought at first that perhaps it wasn't proper on account of the red-haired man, but in a second I saw the real reason. Betty glanced around and said, "Oh, Madame, où est Fakir?" Whereupon the elderly French lady looked absolutely terrified and tore madly off. We had quite a long talk before she came back with the most awful little black dog, which they evidently had _no_ string to. She put him down and began to look displeased again, and Betty just glanced about and said calmly, "Oh, Madame, où es Fakir?" He had absolutely vanished again, and the elderly French lady sort of threw up her eyes and rushed wildly away. The red-haired man said, "Why don't you buy a chain for him?" Betty shrugged the Frenchiest kind of a shrug and said, "I don't have to chase him." The red-haired man said, "I should think she would buy the chain then!" and Betty shrugged a much Frenchier shrug, and said: "I wouldn't allow it. While she is running after him I can do as I please." The red-haired man laughed. Poor madame came panting up with the creature just then, and Betty said sweetly, "Laissez-lui courir," so she had to put him down; but I could see that she meant to keep a sharp eye on him. Betty wanted us all to come to the Palais and lunch with her; but of course we refused, because you wouldn't have liked it, and, anyway, we had to go back to Uncle. She wanted the red-haired man to stay, anyhow, and was quite put out when he declined. Just then two men in an automobile came up and asked her to go and see the balloon ascension. They didn't invite the elderly French lady, and she protested about "comme il faut"--but Betty said, "Où est Fakir?" and, if you'll believe me, that little beast was gone again, and poor madame dashed off in pursuit. Betty made short work of bidding us good-by then, and at once got into the automobile, and was off. [Illustration: We found our beloved relative] We came slowly along back with the red-haired man, and at the Arc de Triomphe we ran into Mr. Chopstone. It seems he went a station too far because he met some people he knew in the car behind us, and he says we must all go to the Châtelet with him to-night to make up. He said "Uncle, too," so we accepted. Then we took a cab and came back to the hotel, where we found our beloved relative with his feet on the center-table, reading the Paris "Herald." He looked over the top at us and announced that he'd "done the Louvre." I think we must have looked startled, for he went on to say at once that he knew that it was something that had got to be done, and that he shouldn't enjoy, and so he had thought it best to go at it the first thing on the first morning and get it off his mind at once. He was very pleased with himself, because he says the "Baedeker" says that it takes two hours and a half to walk through, and he was only gone from the hotel two hours in all. Edna asked him if he spent much time looking at the pictures, and he said: "Young lady, if you'd ever been in the place, you'd never ask that question. Why, the whole thing is lined with pictures. I bet I dream of gilt frames for a week." [Illustration: We found our beloved relative] We had to go to lunch, and Uncle doesn't like the food very much; he says it strikes him as "flummery," and he is really very much vexed over Mrs. Clary's being at Neuilly. Edna is vexed because Harry is there, too, and I'm very much vexed indeed because she thoughtlessly gave Uncle the letter at lunch, and when he read about Monsieur Sibilet's wife being his mother he was more put out than ever. He said we could look out for ourselves this afternoon, as he had to go to the bank. Edna suggested that we go to the Louvre, and he said yes, that would be wise, because then we would all be free to enjoy ourselves. Uncle speaks of the Louvre exactly as if it were the semiannual siege at the dentist's. But he was kind enough to offer to leave us there on his way to the bank, and when we took the cab, he arranged with the cabman and the hotel-porter exactly what the fare was to be, and held it in his hand the whole way. Edna and I were mighty glad to get to the Louvre without Uncle, especially with the way he feels to-day, and we were wandering along in a speechless sort of ecstacy when all of a sudden I heard some one calling my name. I whirled around, and if it wasn't Mrs. Merrilegs, in a state of collapse on one of the red-velvet benches. We went to her, and she took hold of our hands as if she'd been our long-lost mother for years. She looked very white and tired and almost ready to faint, and we sat down on each side of her in real sincere sympathy, and she held our hands and told us how it was. It seems that they left home the last of last month, and they've been all through the British Isles, Denmark, Holland, and Belgium, and they are going to finish Europe and be home the first of next month. She could hardly speak for tears. She says Mr. Merrilegs made out the itinerary before they sailed and that they have lived up to it every day except just one, when he ate some lobster crossing the Irish Sea, and they lost a day that night. She says they drive a great deal, because they can hardly walk any more, and that she doesn't believe that there will be a museum or palace in Europe that they won't be able to say that they have driven by when they go home. She said they had come to the Louvre to see what pictures they wanted for their new house, and that they never meant to take more than twenty minutes for the selection, and that they had been there an hour already. She felt badly because the itinerary had them visit Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower as high as the elevator goes, and Versailles this afternoon. She said they wanted to try and call on the American consul, too, to ask about a masseur. She said Mr. Merrilegs said he thought if they could get hold of a good masseur and keep him right with them that they could manage to rub through to the end. [Illustration: "She took hold of our hands as if she'd been our long-lost mother for years"] Edna and I felt dreadfully sorry for her; but there did not seem to be anything to do except look sad, and we did that as heartily as we knew how until in a minute or two Mr. Merrilegs hove in sight with a funny little Frenchman dancing round and round him. Mr. Merrilegs looked almost as exhausted as his wife, and called Edna by my name and me by hers. His wife asked him if he had ordered the pictures, and he said: "No; I haven't any more time to waste here. I've given Claretie the paper with the sizes of the spaces marked on it, and he's to go through and measure till he finds a famous picture to match each space." Mrs. Merrilegs sort of nodded faintly and said: "But we don't want any martyrs in the dining-room, you know," and her husband said, "Yes, yes, he understands; and he says he'll find a Susanna to fit your bath, too." Mrs. Merrilegs stood up then with a very audible groan, and they both shook hands with us in a way that quite wrung our hearts. Then they limped away with the little Frenchman spinning gaily about them, and we went on alone. In the very next room we met Mr. Chopstone. He was awfully glad to see us, and said, with our permission, he'd join us; but as he seemed joined anyway, we didn't even dream of refusing. He asked if we'd told Uncle about the Châtelet, and then we remembered that we had forgotten. He said he was so glad, because he couldn't get any seats except _baignoirs_, and they looked queer, because no one can see you. He asked if we would like to go to the opera instead, and we were just discussing it when we turned a corner and ran right on to Betty Burleigh and the red-haired man. His name is Potter, and, did you ever! They looked so upset that it can't have been an accident, their being together. But how could they have arranged it? If they didn't arrange it, why did they look upset? Betty had on a bright green cloth dress and a violet hat, and the red-haired man heightened the general effect so much that we moved on as quickly as possible. Mr. Chopstone said very roundly: "You'd better fight shy of her, I think," and Edna said dryly: "Of him, too, don't you think?" I waited a minute, and then I said it seemed droll to think that if we were all English we'd be pleased to call poor Betty a typical American. We came home when the Louvre closed and found Uncle back with his feet on the center-table. He had had a big fire built, for he said it gave him chills to look at the nymph over his bed. He had put in a true Merrilegian afternoon, having been to the Palais de Justice, Sainte-Chapelle, Notre Dame, and driven by the Hôtel de Ville and around the Opera House--"completely around." He says there won't be a thing left for him to look at by Monday. He says if he was pressed for time he'd hire a cab for one whole day and lump the business; but that, seeing that we have the time, it really doesn't seem necessary. The mail came while we were talking, and the most unfortunate thing happened. To keep up the Russian idea, Lee wrote two postals and sent them to St. Petersburg to be mailed. Uncle saw the Russian stamps and knew Lee's writing, and he asked me to kindly tell him how Mrs. Braytree came to see a man who was in Russia in Havre. Edna said weakly that it must have been a joke, and Uncle shook his watch and held it to his ear that way he always does when he's dangerous, and said he was in no mood for any of Lee's jokes. He looked very severely at me and said that Lee was a scalawag, and that I ought to be ashamed of myself for having him around. Mrs. Clary will be back to-morrow, and we're very glad, for Uncle is awful peppery and tartary, and says "Hum!" when we least expect it. Edna sent Mr. Chopstone a _petit-bleu_, asking him please not to ask us to go anywhere to-night. Mr. Edgar sent me some violets, but I had time to give them to the chambermaid before Uncle came in. If I only get a chance, I shall ask Mrs. Clary to declare that M. Sibilet's mother _is_ his wife, even if she knows it's a lie. It doesn't seem possible that Uncle could really care for Mrs. Clary; but he's so cross if she talks to any one else that I almost wonder if he doesn't. Edna is all tired out, and says she will cry if Uncle tells her again that any man isn't the man to make any girl happy. She says she likes men, and she thinks that they all make her happy. She wanted to go to the Châtelet in a _baignoir_, and she was wild to go to the opera in anything. We talk Italy and mark Brittany every chance we get, but Uncle says "Hum!" to Italy the same as he does to everything else these days. I'm sure I don't see what we'll do if he takes the rest of Europe as hard as he does this much. But of course I don't mean that we're not having a lovely time, and we never forget for a minute how kind he was to bring us. _Next day._ Oh, it has been awful! How can I write it all! You see, Uncle has a little balcony, and the sun came out, so he did, too, this morning, on his little balcony. And he saw Mrs. Clary being brought back in an automobile by M. Sibilet and two French officers. Of course Harry was there, too, but that didn't mend matters any. In looking over, Uncle's glasses fell to the ground, and they were his comfortable ones with the rubber round the nose, and that part broke, too. Edna was taking a bath, and I had to stand the brunt of the whole. Uncle told me not to dare to fancy for a minute that he cared who Mrs. Clary went about with; but he did wish for the credit of America that she would steer clear of men like Sibilet. He was much put out over the French officers, too, and said that if he was a French officer he'd go and walk around Alsace until he came to his senses. While he was talking he knocked the water-pitcher over, and then Edna was ready to dress; so he went away while I sopped up the floor. Mrs. Clary came in right afterward. She has had a splendid time, and she says she doesn't care what relation the old lady is so long as she can have them for friends. She has had no end of fun since she came from Havre, and she says it's a shame about Uncle. She went to a beautiful lawn-fête at a countess's, and she says I mustn't worry over Lee and Uncle. She rode horseback, too, and drove with a coach, and she says Edna must remember that Uncle is always peculiar and doesn't mean half he says. She went to two dinner-parties, and no one would believe that she was Harry's mother. She says I ought not to be exasperated over anything, because nothing in the world can be so exasperating as having a son with a moustache when you don't look thirty-five, and that she doesn't let _that_ worry _her_. M. Sibilet is going to give a dinner for her at the Ritz, and she's going to get a lace dress all in one piece, and she says it was she who told Mr. Edgar that we were coming from Rouen, and that Betty Burleigh is considered very fast, and that it won't take long for her to settle Uncle. I'm sure I hope so with all my heart; but I don't believe he'll like the idea of the dinner-party much. Mrs. Clary says Mme. Sibilet's château is a perfect castle, and that one of the French officers in the automobile was a duke. She says we must be patient, and Uncle will get used to the Continent, just as all American men do. She says they never take to it like women, though. The other French officer was in the ministry once, and counts more than any duke. Mrs. Clary is always so sweet and comforting, and she is such a nice chaperon, because she always has men enough herself never to be spiteful. Mr. Chopstone sent Edna back a _petit-bleu_ that he had the box at the opera, and what should he do about it. Mrs. Clary says for us to go. She says she'll take care of Uncle, for she wants to straighten out her accounts, and she can just as well straighten him out at the same time. She gave me a long letter from Lee that he left with her, and she told Edna to go and have a nice walk with Harry, and she'd tell Uncle they were both asleep in their rooms. I declare, it's good to have her back. I feel as if a mountain was lifted off me, and on to her. She says you never dreamed of such fun as she's had out there at Neuilly, and that it's quite absurd--my worrying over little things like Lee and Uncle. She talked so much that I grew quite light-hearted, and had early dinner and went off to the-- I'll have to write the rest to-morrow. A boy says Uncle wants to speak to me. _Next day._ I do believe Lee knows better how to manage Uncle than all of us put together! When Uncle sent for me, I saw right off that Mrs. Clary hadn't gotten him anywhere near all smoothed out. He looked awfully vexed, and he told me he was done with Paris and he was going to clear out at once. He said he knew that Edna and I wanted to go to Italy, but, unfortunately, he couldn't see it himself in that light. Then he paused and said "Hum!" and I waited. After a little he said that he'd happened to run across two or three things lately that had rather interested him in Brittany, and how would I like to go there. I was almost stunned at the success of Lee's scheme, and I was so happy that I suddenly felt as if I wanted Mrs. Clary and Edna to be happy, too, and I threw my arms right around his neck and said: "Oh, _Uncle_, let's go off together--just you and me--and have a real good time together, all by ourselves. Will you?" I must have done it _very_ well, for Uncle's face smoothed out at once, and he told me that he'd been meaning to give me Aunt Jane's watch ever since she died, only that it needed a new spring, and he never could remember to take it to the jeweler's. His face clouded some later, and he shook his head and said he wished he felt more security as to Mrs. Clary and Edna; but then he crossed his legs the other way, and said we only had one life to live, and could I be ready to start by day after to-morrow. I said that I was sure I could, and he said "Hum!" very pleasantly, and I went to my own room and told Mrs. Clary. She was so pleased; she says I am a saint, and that it's too bad for me to miss the dinner. She is going to wear her pink pearls, and she says that she will try to telegraph Lee. I will confess that my heart sinks a little bit from time to time when I think of trying to bear Uncle all alone for I don't know how long; but I have great faith in Lee, and I know that he'll be somewhere along the coast, and that will be a comfort. Uncle has been out and bought a Gaelic grammar and the history of the Siege of La Rochelle, for he says he wants to have some intelligent conception of what he sees. He wants me to learn the grammar, and he says, where he sees to everything, he should think I could do a little trifle like that for him once in a while. When he put it that way, I thought I must try; but, oh, heavens! you ought to see that grammar! I will write again as soon as I can. Harry is going to take us all to the Café aux Fleurs for tea. Lovingly, YVONNE. VII My Dearest Mama: We are _en route_! We left Paris at the cheerful hour of 7 A.M. yesterday morning. No one was up, and there was another train at half-past nine, but Uncle said that, considering the work that lay before us, we had better not begin by dawdling. I do think there is a happy medium between rising at five and "dawdling," but of course I didn't tell him so. Edna sat up in bed and kissed me good-by. She and Mrs. Clary looked upon me as a cross between the saver of the situation, and a burnt offering on Uncle's altar; but they were all happy, and I didn't care--much. Uncle mapped out the route, and, as a result, we got down at Chartres about half-past nine. He put the baggage in _consigne_, and then looked about with the air of a charger who sniffs the battle afar. I stood beside him, feeling like Mazeppa just before they let the horse loose. The outlook from the station is not very attractive, and the first thing that Uncle said was that he didn't believe it was worth while stopping at all, and that he had a good mind to go on with the train; but just at that instant the train went on by itself, so we did not need to discuss the subject. You see there is a high ridge that runs in front of the station, and Chartres is on the other side. Nearly all the towns here seem to be quite a little ways from the railway stations. Mr. Edgar says it's because the railroads run after their passengers in Europe instead of running over them, as they do in America. Uncle says it's very inconvenient, anyhow, and he pulled his hat down hard and said, "Well, let's have a look at the cathedral, anyway." So we stormed the ridge forthwith, and spread down into the flat country beyond. As we descended the slope, Uncle began to be glad he had come. Chartres is very modest and mainly one story high, so the Cathedral towers aloft in a most soul-satisfying manner. Uncle said it was "Something like." I was ever so glad that he felt so because he said in Beauvais that something he had read had led him to expect that the cathedral there would be big enough to hold the Bartholdi Statue of Liberty in one of its niches, and of course he was horribly disappointed, as a consequence. We walked straight to the cathedral, and it was so big that Uncle thought we had better each take one side and meet behind, "so as to save time and not miss anything." I acquiesced, because I mean to keep him good-tempered, if keeping good-tempered myself and acquiescing will do so. We started "fair" in front of the middle front door, and I could hardly keep a straight face as we walked promptly and solemnly off in opposite directions. The cathedral is enormous and just covered with carving, and I was only part way down the side when I saw Uncle coming around the corner, swinging his umbrella in the briskest sort of manner. He looked absolutely disgusted when he saw me, and said in the most injured tone imaginable, "You must have been stopping to look!" He wouldn't hear to my continuing my tour of circumnavigation, so we went inside at once, and there I held the guide-book and read the explanation while he kept up a running contradiction of everything I read. I don't see the good of Uncle's carrying a guide-book, for he says they needn't suppose he doesn't know better than most of it. There is a wonderful carved marble screen around the altar, and a sacred statue with a yellow satin dress on; but being inside made Uncle want to be outside right away, so we left very quickly, and then he studied the Baedeker just long enough to let me notice how all the Roman noses on the kings and saints outside had been turned into Eskimo noses by the rains of centuries; and then he suddenly shut it, and said we would go right straight off then and there and see the famous enamels that Diane de Poitiers gave Henry II. He explained to me that this wasn't the English Henry II, but the French Henry II, and then he asked me which of us had the luggage-checks, and if I had noticed whether the train went at eleven or half-past. I must say it is like doing multiplications in your head to travel with Uncle, but of course I enjoy it, and the walk to St. Peter's Church was very pleasant, through quaint streets and along by little canals like those at Gisors. The church was open, and open in more ways than one, for they were tearing up the whole floor to put in a furnace and grave-stones and pick-axes were leaning up against the columns everywhere. There wasn't a soul to be seen, and Uncle was so happy to be able to poke about unconcierged for a while that I sat down and let him desecrate around with his cane until he came to with a start and asked me what I supposed we came to Chartres for, anyway. I got up at that, and we went to look at the enamels, which are in behind a locked balustrade and have curtains hung in front of them besides. We had to get a woman to unlock the gate and draw the curtains aside and explain which enamel was which Apostle; and uncle was very much put out over their being apostles at all. I don't know what he expected in a church, but he said he never thought about the church; he only thought about Diane de Poitiers. He says he doesn't think it was in good taste her having anything to do with the apostles, and then he read in the book again and found he'd made a mistake, and it was the king who gave them to her, and not she who gave them to the king, and that used him all up, and he said he wished that he had never come. I saw that we should have to have something to eat right off, so I said I was hungry and Uncle said that was just like a woman, but to come on. We found a small restaurant and had a very good lunch, and then Uncle said if I felt satisfied he would take it as a personal favor if we could go on to Dreux. I do wish he wouldn't put everything just that way when I really haven't done anything; but he looked at his watch and found that the time before when he had looked at it he had looked at it wrong and that we had barely ten minutes to make the train. As a matter of fact, the train was going then, but they don't go until ten minutes after in France, so when you miss a train you always have ten minutes left to make it. We took a cab, and Uncle made the man understand that if he hurried it would pay; so we galloped madly over the ridge and just got aboard in time to learn that Uncle had left his cane in the cab and that we'd forgotten our luggage in _consigne_. Of course the ride was rather gloomy, because there was almost no way to lay the blame on me; but after a while Uncle asked me if I really ever did see such a rank idiot as M. Sibilet, and he felt better after that. We reached Dreux about two o'clock, and I telegraphed back about the luggage while Uncle looked up a train for Argentan and set his watch by the railway time. He told me that the train that he had decided on left at 3:04 and that we could make it and see the mausoleum "easy." I never contradict Uncle, because it doesn't do any good and does upset him awfully, so I went with him to get the cab, and wondered how long a mausoleum usually took to examine. [Illustration: Dreux] It seems that there are no cabs in Dreux! I thought that that would end the mausoleum, but Uncle merely swept his eyes over the prospect and said we'd have to walk, and walk pretty prompt. It was 2:10, and we walked fast. The mausoleum is on top of a hill, and Uncle said we could catch our breath after we got to the top. We never spoke a word going up. I knew that I was too young to die of heart-disease, so I didn't care, if he didn't. It was a terrible climb, but we reached there at 2:32. It's the mausoleum of the Orléans family, and is modern. There is a concierge who takes you around, and we followed him, Uncle with his watch in his hand and going on like this: "2:40--tomb of the king's mother, eh? Fine old lady! 2:41--tomb of the Duc d'Aumale; good face, handsome decorations on his bosom, stained-glass windows--all made at Sévres, eh? 2:43--" etc. You can imagine! But what you can't imagine is the sublime and peaceful beauty of all those exquisite marble people sleeping there under the slanting rainbow sun-rays of the magnificent windows. They affected me so deeply that, in spite of Uncle, I could hardly keep back the tears. They didn't seem living and they didn't seem dead; I don't know what they were like--spirits made visible, perhaps. The Duchesse d'Orléans has her arm stretched across, so that it touches her husband, who was the eldest son of Louis Philippe. The king himself stands upright in the midst of them all, and Queen Marie Amélie kneels at his side in a beautiful pose. Two precious little babies are sculptured together on one tomb, and all the while we were going about, the place resounded with the echoes of the chisels that were preparing a place for the Prince Henry who was killed in Africa. I could have stayed there hours, wrapped up in the mystery and wonder of it all, but Uncle fell down some steps while he was looking at his watch, and we departed forthwith. He said we must walk fast, and so again we walked fast. Of course it was easier, though, going down-hill, and I said, when we were near enough not to be anxious any more, "It was worth seeing, wasn't it?" To which Uncle replied: "Yes, if you enjoy that kind of thing; but all I could think of was the idea of spending such a lot of money on statues and then not having any cabs at the depot." There was no time to get anything more to eat at the moment, so I just held my tongue until we were safely on the train again. We reached Argentan at 6:15 and I felt as if I'd been running Uncle, or, rather, running with Uncle, for a month. The next morning we were called at seven, and I really thought that I could not get up at first; but, I made it at the third try, and Uncle and I were out "seeing Argentan" at eight. At half-past he declared that there was really nothing to see, so we went to the _gare_, and he bought a Paris "Herald." As we were sitting there waiting for the 8:04 train to Couliboeuf, in came Elfrida Sanders and her sister with bicycles. I was _so_ astonished, and Uncle was rather pleased, too. They are doing Normandy on wheels, and they have their tools and a kodak and a small set of toilet-things and four clean collars all tied on to them. Elfrida says they've had a lovely time--only broken glass once, and rain two days. The sister is going to write a book and call it "Two on a Trot." I think that's a funny name for a bicycle story. Uncle said to call it "Two on a Tire"; but you know how stupid Elfrida is, and so she said, "Oh, but it's not a tandem." They were going to Couliboeuf, too, but we couldn't go together because they were traveling third-class. Elfrida says they are seeing Europe nicely on less than a dollar a day, and Uncle said "Great Scott!" [Illustration: "Elfrida says they are seeing Europe nicely on less than a dollar a day, and Uncle said 'Great Scott!'"] While we were on the train it began to rain and then it poured. Uncle became very gloomy and said that is just what we might have expected. I didn't expect rain, and I didn't see why I should have expected it, so I only nodded. Uncle didn't like my nodding, and said I shouldn't take such a pessimistic view of life at my age. While he was talking I suddenly remembered the umbrella and asked him where it was, and he had left it in Argentan! Then there was no more conversation. [Illustration: Falaise] We had to change cars at Couliboeuf, and we reached Falaise about noon. Elfrida and her sister got right on to their wheels and bumped gaily away over the cobblestones at once. The rain was over and the sun was shining, but Uncle said he had lost all faith in France and wanted to buy another umbrella the very first thing. We went to a store, and he said to buy a cheap one, as I would be sure to lose it. I asked for a cheap one, but the woman was quite indignant and said that she did not keep any cheap umbrellas--that the lowest she had was two francs--forty cents. I had to translate it to Uncle, and he was so amused that he bought one for three francs and gave a franc to her baby that was tied in a high chair by the window. Then we took a cab to the castle and paid the man at the entrance and let him go. There is a lovely sloping road that follows the curve of the outer wall up to the summit of the hill, and we forgot how tired we were in thinking how pretty it was. These old castle enclosures are all so big. This one contains a college at one end, and then there is quite a wood which you must walk through before you come to the castle itself at the other end. The castle is wonderful. It is splendid and big and old and strong and Norman. It is built out of the red rock, and it has oubliettes and wells and pits and towers and everything of the kind that heart could wish to see. We saw the room where Prince Arthur was imprisoned for seven years and the room where William the Conqueror was born. It's a very little room in which to have had such a wonderful thing happen. [Illustration: "Paid the man at the entrance and let him go."] Uncle enjoyed the castle immensely; he took the deepest interest in every inch of it, and when the concierge showed us the window from which Robert the Devil first saw Arlette, he planted himself firmly inside it and I almost thought that he was going to stay there forever. My feet ached so that I was glad enough to lean up anywhere for a minute, and I honestly believe that it was ten before he moved. Then he gave himself a little shake and said: "Well to think of owning this place, and being able to stand in a window as high up as that one, and then to look down as far as that well is, and then only to need to say, 'Bring her up!' and to know she'd got to come! Great Scott! No wonder their son conquered England. I'm only surprised that he didn't wipe Europe off the face of the continent!" Then he shook his head for quite a little while, and we got under way again and went to Talbot's Tower. [Illustration: "The coming down was awful"] It's high, and Uncle wanted to climb it. I didn't mind his climbing it, but he wanted me to climb it, too, and some one was ringing the bell, so the concierge had to leave us and go back before anything was settled. Uncle said it was rather hard when he was doing so much to try and finish me up (he meant "finish me off," I think), for me to be so lukewarm about being finished so I started in to climb, although my knees felt like crumpled tissue-paper. [1]The steps were so worn that it was awful work and Uncle would go up as far as anyone could. He had the umbrella and I had the candle and often we had to step two and even three steps at once. When we came to the place where the steps ended, he stood and peeked out of a window (imagining himself Lord Talbot, I reckon--) and then we started back. The coming down was awful,--I was honestly frightened. Uncle went first and I stepped on his coat twice and spilt candle-grease on his hat. Uncle found it easier coming down than going up, and it wasn't until we reached the bottom that we discovered that the reason why was because he had left the umbrella behind and so had two hands to hold on by. I said, "Never mind, it only cost sixty cents"; but he was not to be comforted, and said bitterly, "You forget the franc that I gave her baby." I would have gone back for it, but I felt so hot and tired. [1] The author begs the reader's lenient consideration as to this description of Talbot's Tower. The story was written from notes taken five years ago, since which time the tower has undergone a thorough restoration. We came to Caen this noon, and went to bed, and I don't believe we shall ever get up again. Uncle said that with my kind permission he would suggest that I should not disturb him, and heaven knows that I have no desire to. I telegraphed Mrs. Clary about mail, and then I went to sleep and I slept until just now. I never was so near dead in all my life; but you mustn't think for a minute that I'm not having a lovely time, for I am, and it was so kind of Uncle to bring me. Now good-by, and with much love, Yours, YVONNE. VIII UNCLE JOHN PARALYZED "Come in! Come on! Well, don't you hear? Can't you understand any--Oh, it's you, child. I thought it was one of those darned waiters. "Sit down; pull up a chair by the bed. It's so long since I sent for you that I just about thought that you were not coming. I suppose you were surprised at my sending for you; but it was the only way to do. It's a hard thing to break to you, Yvonne; but you'd have to know in the course of the day, and I always do everything right off that I've not decided to wait and see about. Now don't look frightened, my dear; nobody's _dead_--it's only that I'm paralyzed! "There, what do you think of that? Yes, it's true for a fact. My legs! I had some premonitory symptoms yesterday going up that cursed old tower, and I had some very advanced ones coming down from it; and this morning, when I started to shave, the truth just burst in my face. Now, don't try to say anything, for I've read too many patent-medicine advertisements not to recognize paralysis when I feel it up and down the back of my own legs. I'm not the man not to know my own feelings, and I want to tell you that when I got up this morning I couldn't stand up, and then, after I stood up, I couldn't sit down; and if that isn't a clear case of having completely given out, I don't know what you would call it. "Now, my dear, the question is, what's to be done? Of course our travels have come to a full stop, for I shall probably never walk again. The curious thing is that I don't feel any particular inclination ever to walk again. You've no conception of the sentiments that I feel in my legs; but if you roll the fatigue of a lifetime into either the left or the right, you can get some faint inkling of the first freshness of paralysis. I tell you, Yvonne, it is awful. Every cobblestone I've gone over seems to be singing in my calves; but that's neither here nor there. What I want you to do is to go to the pocket of my valise get out the cable-code book and look out a word that means 'Both legs paralyzed. What shall I do with the girls?' You'll find a word that means it, if you look long enough. They've got forty pages of words that mean every fool thing on earth from 'It's a boy' to 'Impossible to lend you ten dollars.' I was reading it over in Paris the other day while I waited for my money at the bank. "Well, ain't you going to get the code-book? I don't want to be impatient, but I want some one to be doing something. You don't know how restless it makes me to think of lying still for the rest of my life. While I was waiting for you, I was thinking that probably I shall live right here in Caen till I die. I'm very glad we got here too late to see anything, because now I can take it bit by bit and drag it out through my remaining days. I shall have a wheeling-chair and a man to push me around, and--well, maybe it's in the little outside pocket. I know I had it in Paris, anyhow; I remember I was just reading that 'salsify' means 'Your mother-in-law left by the ten o'clock train,' and that 'salsifry' means that she didn't, when they brought me my money, and I was free to go. [Illustration: "'I'm happy that it will be out of the question for me ever to travel again.'"] "Well, now you've got it. I thought maybe it would be in the little valise all the time. Seems to me the sicknesses begin with 'Salt.' I remember 'Saltfish' means 'have got smallpox; keep away,' and 'Saltpetre' means 'have got a cold; come at once.' You look along there and find 'paralysis.' I'll just keep quiet while you're looking. I'd better be learning to keep quiet. Keeping quiet must be the long suit of the paralyzed, I should fancy. But you see what it is now to be an optimist. Here's my life practically over all of a sudden, and, instead of being blue, I'm as cheerful as a cricket. No need of fussing over the candle-grease on my hat now, for I shall never wear a hat again, I shall wear a soft felt tied over my ears with a plaid shawl as they always do in rolling-chairs; as for the umbrella, I'm actually glad I left it. It would only have been an aggravation to have seen it lying around. But all the same I can't see why you didn't notice it lying down there. It must have been in plain sight,--I remember pointing over at Mont Mirat with it, and saying the rock looked as if it had been dropped there from above. Yvonne, I tell you when I think of all we did these last two days I feel perfectly content to be paralyzed. I'm glad to think that I've got such a good excuse to stay right in bed; I'm happy that it will be out of the question for me ever to travel again. I feel as if I've traveled enough to last me forever; I actually don't want to see anything more. No more catching trains and climbing castles for your Uncle John--not in his life. You can put the Baedeker in the fire right now--I never want to see a red cover or a green string or an index again as long as I live. What's that? No, I sha'n't want it to look over and recall things by; I can recall more than I want to just by the way I feel. I don't need any guide-book to remember what I've been through since I left Paris. I remember too much. I remember so much that I am rejoiced to think that muscles over which I have no control will prevent my having to go out to-day and see anything else. It seems a little hard to think of having sight-seen so hard that you never want to see another sight, but I'm perfectly content. And I don't want a doctor, either; I've no faith in French doctors. It would be just like one to hypnotize me and set me going again, and I don't want to go. I want to lie right here, and I thank the Lord that I have money enough to allow me to lie here forever, if I feel like it. I was thinking this morning what a horrible existence a tramp must lead--always going on to new places. Thank Heaven, I can just settle down in this old one and stay on indefinitely. I want you to go down to the office and ask what rate they'll make for this room by the year. I want this same room right along. It's the first restful spot I've struck since my trunk went smash into that ship. Yvonne, did you notice the way they handled those trunks when we landed--as if they were eggs? I tell you, the baggage system at home is a burning disgrace. That's one reason I like Europe so--it's quiet and peaceful. I heard some goats go by this morning; I'd like to know a hotel in America where you can listen to a goat. And then that wallpaper, what a tranquil pattern--a basket of sunflowers upside down alternately with a single palm upside up! What a contrast to the paper on that room I sailed from! It looked more like snakes doing physical culture than anything else. "Yvonne, I was thinking it all over as I lay here this morning waiting for you, and the truth is, we've been traveling too fast. I wanted you to see all there was to see, and I overlooked myself completely. Don't feel badly, child, because I know you never meant it; but it _is_ the truth, and, as a consequence, here I lie paralyzed. Yes, we've been traveling too fast. It's the vice of the American abroad; it's the terrible secret drain upon the strength of our better classes. We come over to rest, and if we don't do two countries a week we feel we've wasted our money. The idea of leaving Paris in the morning and doing Chartres and Dreux and getting to Argentan that night! Why, Hercules himself would have been used up. And then that castle at Falaise. But I'm not sorry that I went to Falaise. No, I'm not sorry. Yvonne, there was something about that castle that I'll never get over. I tell you those were the days to live in! I was thinking about it while I was waiting for you this morning. Will you consider what it must have been to put on a suit that you couldn't be punched through, and then get out with an ax that faced two ways and have full freedom to hack at people you hated. I tell you, child, I should have been one of those who barricaded themselves behind the dead bodies they had killed and kept right on firing over the top. And to-day my armor would be hanging up somewhere all full of dents and rusty blood-stains, and I'd be a sight in some cathedral with your Aunt Jane wearing a funnel and an accordion beside me. We'd both be in marble, of course, some worn by time and some chipped by tourists--ah, well! "Can't you find anything suitable in that code-book? Here, I've been waiting a quarter of an hour for you to hunt--hand me the book. I remember 'Shell' is 'have broken my left leg,' and 'Shell-fish' is 'have broken my right leg,' and 'Shawl' is--wait a bit--keep still, Yvonne; no one in the wide world can study a code and listen at the-- "Oh, well, I'll leave it till to-night. Not that I'm irritated at your interruption, for I never let anything ruffle me, and when you write home the first thing I want you to tell your mother is that being paralyzed has not changed me one particle. Same even disposition, same calm outlook on life, same disinclination to ever bother anyone. I want you to make them understand in particular how cheerful I am. Some men would turn cynical at waking up paralyzed, but not me. I feel as if I might get about quite a little in Caen, maybe even get to Falaise again some time; but you can bank on one thing, and that is that if I ever go back to Falaise I won't go up that tower again. I was wondering this morning as I lay here waiting for you how in thunder you were holding that candle to spill so much grease on my hat. You can't say that you didn't know I was there, for every second step you took your foot hit me in the small of the back. You ought to have gone first, anyhow. I know the rule is for a man to go first going down a staircase, but I don't call that business we were on any staircase; it was more like a series of cascades with us forming the merry, leaping, part. I tell you what, Yvonne, the next time it's up to your Uncle John to play the chamois that springs from crag to crag over an old middle-aged staircase while his niece pours candle-grease on his hat, you can excuse me. "What I like is clean, open-to-the-day-light ruins like that old one at Jumièges! No peril, no anxiety--all on a level, and time to look up at what wasn't. I tell you, I wouldn't have missed seeing Jumièges for anything. I was thinking this morning as I lay here waiting for you that I have a good mind to write a book about my travels, and that when I do I shall have the frontispiece, me in front of Jumièges. I could take an artist down there on purpose, and while he wasn't doing me, I could look it all over again. Maybe I could go there alone with a kodak and get a satisfactory frontispiece, only those rocks were so thick that most people would think it was a defective plate. I shouldn't like to have them think that, for if I was going to have a book at all, I should have it in good style--gold edges, bevel-plate, and so forth, don't you know. I'd like to write a book about Europe, I vow. I haven't been here very long, but I'll swear I know ten times more than any book ever tells. It never said a word in Baedeker about there not being any cabs at Dreux, or about the condition of those steps in Talbot's Tower, and such things ought to be known. It's all right to make light of perils past, but those steps were too dark for me to ever make light of in this world. Up toward the top where we had to sit down and stretch for the next one--you remember?--I must own that I was honestly sorry I came. "Well, my child, it must be nearing noon, and I feel like taking a nap before dinner. Suppose you go in and write to your mother and Mrs. Clary. After your mother gets the cable, she'll naturally be anxious for details, and she won't want to wait longer than ten days to know all. I wish you'd ring and tell them to bring me some hot water before you go; tell them I want it in a pitcher. Make them understand a pitcher. They brought it last night in a sort of brass cylinder, and I couldn't get the thing open anyway--had to use it for a hot-water-bag in bed in the end. It worked fine for that. Never cooled off all night, in fact, I couldn't put my feet against it till morning. "There, now, you go on and leave me to sleep. You haven't the faintest idea of how used-up I feel. Don't forget to write your mother how cheerful I am; don't forget the hot water. I'll send for you when I want you. There--there--I'm all right, child, don't you worry. Just pull the curtains and let me sleep." IX YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Caen._ Dearest Mama: We are still there, and I'm so happy Uncle is in bed, and at first he thought he was paralyzed, but now he says he's only refusing to take chances. It's so nice having him in bed, because Lee is here, and Uncle makes it all right without knowing anything about it. It was yesterday that he thought he was paralyzed; he sent for me before I was awake to tell me. I was so dreadfully stiff and lame that I thought at first that I could not get up; but of course I did, and went to him as soon as I could. He told me that he was paralyzed, really paralyzed; but I wasn't frightened, because, when he explained his feelings, I knew every one of them, and of course I knew that I wasn't paralyzed. Only when he rolled around upon his pillows and said he certainly would end his days right here in Caen, I couldn't help wishing that he had left me to enjoy my pillows, also. But he wanted to talk, so I listened for ever so long; and then he wanted to sleep, so I came away to write you, and there was a note from Lee in my room. He was down-stairs waiting, and I went right down, and my, but it was good to see him! I didn't kiss him, because it was a hotel parlor, even if we don't know any one in Caen; but I told him about Uncle, and he said it was fine and that he hoped he would be in bed a week, but no such luck. The yacht has broken a thumb-screw, or whatever it is on a yacht, and they have all come here to meet some automobile people. Lee looks real well; he says he's had no end of fun lately, and that it is a shame I can't go, too. While we were talking, Mrs. Catherwood-Chigley came in. I didn't know that she was in Europe, and Lee was dreadfully put out for she sat right down and asked all about us. Lee explained that he was here with a yacht and that I was here with Uncle; but she didn't seem to believe us, and shook her head, and asked about Mrs. Clary. She said Mr. Chigley was here, too, and they have seen a monument in the cemetery here that is just what they want for Mr. Catherwood. She says Mr. Catherwood was so clear-cut and Doric in his ideas that it has been very hard to find the right thing. She said Mr. Chigley was out making a sketch of the monument then. She says Mr. Chigley is devotion itself to Mr. Catherwood's memory, and cabled a beautiful wreath on his wedding anniversary and palms tied with purple the day he died. She said she was very happy, and Mr. Chigley just loves to hear her tell stories about Mr. Catherwood by the hour. Lee was awfully rude and kept yawning, and I know she didn't like it by the way she looked at him. It was awfully trying to have her just then, because, of course, there's no telling how long Uncle will stay paralyzed. We really thought she would stay until lunch-time, but Lee yawned so that she went at last. [Illustration: "Lee was awfully rude and kept yawning, and I know she didn't like it by the way she looked at him."] Lee said that we ought to join them in the touring-cars and do Brittany that way, but he didn't like to tackle Uncle. He says Uncle is a very tough proposition, because he is so devilish observing, and he never begged my pardon for saying it, either. Of course Uncle brought me, and I must do as he wishes, but I do wish that he liked Lee. Lee says he wishes he liked him, too; he says it would be so devilish convenient just now, and he didn't beg my pardon that time, either. [Illustration: Caen] I ran up, and Uncle was still asleep, so I had lunch with Lee at the table d'hôte. Mr. Chigley and Mrs. Catherwood-Chigley sat opposite, and she does look so funny with her wedding-rings and engagement-rings alternating on the same finger. Mr. Chigley said he should call on Uncle, and Lee and I were frightened to death until I remembered that Uncle wouldn't be able to read the card or understand the waiter without me. After luncheon I ran up again, and Uncle was still asleep, so we went out to walk. We had a lovely walk, and never looked at a sight, and when we came back I ran up again, and Uncle was still asleep; so Lee and I sat down in the parlor, and we were just going to be so happy when Pinkie and Bunnie Clemens came in. Well, really, I hardly knew either, they have changed so, and Pinkie has a beard and Bunnie is over six feet high. They are on a bicycle tour with eight men, and they saw Elfrida and her sister yesterday, headed for Bayeux. Pinkie says it's been such bad weather they've had to tie umbrellas and waterproofs to them, too. He says Elfrida looks half-witted, and her sister looks like a full idiot. I was so glad that I had on a Paris frock. They wanted me to go to the theater with them, but of course I couldn't, for I couldn't be sure about Uncle's staying paralyzed. He slept till eight o'clock last night, and then he had dinner and went right to sleep again, so I could have gone to the theater after all; but how could I know to dare to risk it? Lee and the men from the yacht are at another hotel, so he didn't come very early this morning, and it was fortunate, because Uncle sent for me about nine to explain Mr. Chigley's card, which they poked under the door last night. Uncle was so curious to know what it was that he got out of bed and found he could walk. He said he had never felt sure that it was paralysis, only he wanted to be on the safe side, and he is in bed still, only he is so lively that I am half crazy over Lee. If Uncle concludes he's all right, and comes down and finds Lee, I know he isn't going to like it at all. Pinkie and Bunnie have gone on to Mont St. Michel, and the Catherwood-Chigleys took the train for Dol right after breakfast. Mr. Chigley was very sorry not to see Uncle, and Mrs. Catherwood-Chigley said she should write you all about how well and happy I was looking. I know that what she really means to write about is Lee; but you know all about him, so I don't care. Lee says if there was time he'd go to Paris and get a nurse and an electric-battery and have Uncle kept just comfortably paralyzed for a few more days, but there isn't time, and I am so worried. If Uncle loses any more patience with Lee, he won't have any patience left at all, and I'll have to go all of the rest of the trip that way. We took a walk this afternoon to consult, and we saw Elfrida and her sister. They have cut off their hair, because it bothered them so, coming down in their eyes, and Elfrida says she feels all the freedom of a man thrilling through her--you know how funny she always talks. They have seven calloused places on the inside of each hand from the handle-bars, and Elfrida says she's sure their insteps will arch forever after. They were coming out of St. Stephen's Church, and the only way to get rid of them was to say that we were just going in; so we said it, and went in. It was really very interesting, and the tomb of William the Conqueror is there. He built St. Stephen's, and Mathilde built La Trinité at the other end of the town, partly as a thank-offering for conquering England and partly as a penance for being cousins. There was a monastery with St. Stephen's and a convent with La Trinité until the Revolution changed everything. William's tomb is just a flat slab in front of the altar, but he really isn't there any more, for they have dug him up and scattered him over and over again. The church is tremendously big and plain, and every word you even whisper echoes so much that Lee and I thought we'd better come out where we could talk alone. When we came back to the hotel, I ran up, and the mail had come from Paris; so Uncle said if I'd fill his fountain-pen, he'd just spend the afternoon letting a few people in America know what Europe was really like. I'm a little bit troubled, for I'm all over being stiff and sore from that climbing, and yet he seems to feel almost as mean as ever. He has his meals in his room, for, although we're on the first floor, he says he cannot even think calmly of a stair-case yet. He says that Talbot's Tower seems to have settled in his calves, and Heaven knows when he'll get over it. Lee says I ought not to worry, but to make the most out of the situation; but I do worry, because Uncle is so uncertain. And I'm perfectly positive that there will be an awful scene when he finds out that during his paralysis I've been going all over with Lee. [Illustration: "He has his meals in his room, for he says he cannot even think calmly of a stair-case yet."] Lee and I went to walk this afternoon, and we visited the old, old church of St. Nicolas. It said in the book that the apse still had its original stone roof, and Lee said it would be a good chance to learn what an apse was; so we set out to go there, but we forgot all about where we set out for, and it was five o'clock before we finally got back to where it was. It stands in an old cemetery, and it says in the book that it has been secularized; so we climbed up on gravestones till we could see in the windows and learn what that meant, also. The gravestones were all covered with lichen and so slippery that in the end Lee gave up and just helped me to look. We didn't learn much, though, for it was only full of hay. When we got back to the hotel, I ran up, and Uncle was gone! I never was so frightened in my life, and when I ran back and told Lee, he whistled, so I saw that he was upset, too. He said I'd better go to my room and wait, and he'd dine at his hotel to-night; so I went to my room, and Uncle was there, hunting all through my things for the address-book. I was so glad and relieved that I didn't mind a bit the way he had churned everything up, although you ought to see my trunk, and I kissed him and told him it was just splendid to see him beginning to go about again. He looked pleased, but he says the backs of his legs are still beyond the power of description, and so I proposed having dinner with him in his room, which we did very comfortably, and he told me that he should remember this trip till the day he died, without any regard for the grease I spilt on his hat. After dinner he was very fidgety, and I can see that the confinement is wearing on him; but I don't know what to do. More letters came by the evening mail, and Mrs. Clary is so in raptures over the dinner that when Uncle asked me if I had heard from her I thought it was wisest to say no, because I knew that if he read how happy M. Sibilet was making her, he surely wouldn't like it at all. Lee sent me a note by a messenger about eleven o'clock, with instructions in French on the outside about their delivering it to me when I was _not_ with Uncle. They delivered it all right, and I read it. He just said that the automobiles had come, and that he was going to cast his die clean over the Rubicon to-morrow morning at eleven. That means that he is going, of course, and that I am to be left here all alone. I do feel very badly over it, for Uncle will be almost sure to find out about Lee whenever he can get downstairs again, and then I'm sure I don't know what will happen. Of course I've not done anything that I shouldn't have done; but, dear me! doing right doesn't help if Uncle chooses to decide that it is wrong. And if he can't walk, to let us go on traveling, he's going to keep getting more and more difficult to get along with. I don't like to tell Lee how troubled I am, because if Lee gets worked up and decides to take a hand in while I'm traveling with Uncle, I might as well be Mr. Pickwick when he rushed between just in time to get the tongs on one side and the shovel on the other. I don't want Lee trying to defend me from Uncle, because I know Uncle would never forgive him for thinking I needed defending. You know yourself just how Uncle is, and now that his legs are so stiff he is more that way than ever. Lee doesn't understand, and I can't make him understand, and perhaps it's just as well that he should go on to-morrow. Maybe Uncle will be better in a few days, so that we can visit Bayeux. He's crazy to go to Bayeux and see the tapestry, and it isn't so very far. But what shall we do if we come to any town again where there are no cabs! It would be awful. However, I shall not worry, for it's no use. Mrs. Catherwood-Chigley wrote me her address on one of her cards, and Lee took it and sent it to me with some beautiful flowers. He thought it was such a clever, safe idea; but just suppose we meet them again! If I didn't think Lee was just right, I'd think he had almost too many clever ideas; and, anyhow, I know that I'm sure that he has too many while I'm traveling with Uncle. Now, good-night, it's so very late. Don't ever feel troubled over me, for I'm having a splendid time, and it was so kind of Uncle to bring us. Your own loving YVONNE. X YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Vire._ Dear Mama: I am the happiest thing in the whole wide world, and Lee is the grandest fellow! I must write you everything, and you will see. The morning after I last wrote, Uncle had me waked up at seven and wrote on a scrap of paper, "We leave for Bayeux at 8.30." I was just about sick, for I knew he wasn't able to, and then, besides, if we left so early, I surely shouldn't see Lee again. But I got up and dressed, of course, and I was beside myself to find some way of sending Lee a scrap of a good-by before we took a cab for the _gare_. Uncle was in high spirits over getting out again, and all went well until it came the minute to get him on to the train. Well, I do believe he was scared himself. Getting on to a French train is almost like going up a ladder that slopes the wrong way, I always think, and it took two commissionaires to hoist Uncle into the coupé. He was awfully worried over it, I could see, for he talked about what an outrageous idiot Mr. Chopstone was all the way to Bayeux. We had to get out there, of course, and I was beside myself to know how to manage. In the end Uncle came down so suddenly that he nearly crushed me and a meek, good-hearted little Frenchman who had kindly offered to help assist. [Illustration: Bayeux] The _gare_ at Bayeux is quite a walk from the part of the town where the sights are and there wasn't a cab or a thing on wheels. I didn't dare look at Uncle, for there is no train back till four in the afternoon. He seemed a bit staggered at first, and then he said well, it was level, and we'd go leisurely along and enjoy the fresh, pure, sweet air of the country. So we walked along, but I could see he wasn't enjoying it a bit, and it took us a half-hour to get to where we were going. We went to the cathedral first, and Uncle sat right down and said he wanted time enough to enjoy the ground-work of the vaulting and that I could just leave him and go around alone. It was my first chance to look at anything as slow as I liked, and I really did enjoy myself very much. It's a really wonderful old cathedral, and I found a nice old sacristan behind the altar, and he took me underneath into the crypt, and the crypt is the original church where Harold took the oath. It was slowly buried by the dirt of centuries, and when they started to put a furnace in a few years ago, they found it and dug it out again. It isn't very large, and the walls are of stone several feet thick, with little bits of arched windows set up too high to see from. When I came back we went to see the tapestry in the museum, and it isn't really tapestry at all: it's a long, long strip of linen about a foot wide, with scenes embroidered on it in Kensington, and over and over. It's really very well done, and it isn't a bit badly worn out--only a few little holes here and there. The scenes are very interesting, and some of them are awfully funny. The way they hauled the horses over the sides of the boats when they landed in England, for example. The Saxons have beards, and the Normans are shaven. I couldn't help thinking how funny it was that the Normans, who were regarded as barbarians by the French, were looked upon as tremendously effete by the English. Uncle took a deal of pleasure studying the whole thing, and we were there till it was time for lunch. We had a nice lunch at a clean little place, and then came the rub. There was nothing to do till train-time, and that terrible walk to the _gare_. I had brought a book along, so I could read aloud, but Uncle said only a woman would come to Bayeux and read a novel, and that I reminded him of Aunt Jane. You know how terrible it is when any one reminds him of Aunt Jane; so I closed the book at once, and said I'd do anything he liked. He said that that was more like Aunt Jane than ever, to just sit back and throw the whole burden on to him; and then he shook his watch and held it to his ear and said "Hum!" too, one right after the other. I was almost beside myself to know what to do or what to suggest, and just then something came puffing up behind us and stopped right at our side. It was a big automobile, with three men in it, and one jerked off his mask and jumped out over the wheel and grabbed Uncle by the hand. And it was Lee! [Illustration: "And it was Lee."] You never saw anything like Uncle's face! He seemed reparalyzed for a few seconds, and Lee kept shaking his hand and telling him how glad he was to see him, and how he _must_ get right into the automobile and go on with them to Caen. My heart just about stopped beating, I was so anxious, but Lee never stopped shaking, and the other men took off their masks and got out, too, and told Uncle he really must do them the honor and give them the pleasure, and in the end we got him in, and Lee won out. Oh, it was such fun! We had the most glorious trip back to Caen. They had an extra mask along, and Uncle wore it and sat on the front seat, and Mr. Peters, the man who owns the automobile, was really lovely to him. The other man and Lee and I sat behind, and the other man is Mr. Peters's mother's son by her second husband. His name is Archie Stowell, and I should judge that Mr. Peters's mother's second husband was a lot livelier than the first, but not so clever. Mr. Peters is really awfully clever, and the way he talked to Uncle was wonderful. Uncle said it was a very smooth-riding automobile, and Mr. Peters said it did him good all through to meet some one who recognized the good points of a good machine at once; he said not one man in a thousand had brains enough to know a good machine when he was in it, and that he was overjoyed to have accidentally met the one man who did discriminate. And Uncle said he should judge that automobiling was a very easy way of getting over the ground when one was traveling in Europe, and Mr. Peters said it was perfectly bewildering how the breadth and scope of Uncle's mind could instantaneously seize and weigh every side of an intricate proposition and as instantaneously solve it completely. By the time we reached Caen Uncle was so saturated with Mr. Peters that he even smiled on Lee as we got out and asked them all three to dine with us at eight. They accepted, and went to their hotel to dress, and Uncle went to his room without one word of any kind to me. They came, and we had a very nice dinner in a little separate room, and the way Mr. Peters talked to Uncle was worth listening to surely. And when Uncle was talking, he leaned forward and paid attention as if his life depended on every word. By ten o'clock Uncle was happier than I have almost ever seen him, and Mr. Peters said it was no use, we just simply must join their party and go on in the automobile. Lee began to laugh when he said that, and said: "Now, Peters, you'll learn the sensation of getting turned down cold." It was an awful second for me, because I just felt Uncle's terrible battle between not wanting to go on with Lee and wanting to contradict him; but in the end the wanting to contradict overpowered everything else, and he said: "Young man, when you are as old as I am you'll be less ready to speak for other people than you seem disposed to do now." [Illustration: "We passed Elfrida and her sister to-day, pedaling along for dear life"] And then he accepted Mr. Peters's invitation! So will you only please to think of it--we are touring with Lee, and to-day we came up through the lovely valley of the Vire to this little town of the same name. It is all too nice for words; Uncle sits on the front seat all the time, and when he gives Mr. Peters advice, Mr. Peters always thanks him and says that he never met any one before with sense enough to have figured that out. We passed Elfrida and her sister to-day, pedaling along for dear life. They didn't know us, and they are getting to look so awful that I thought it was just as well. Uncle says he thinks they are seeing Europe for thirty cents a day now. It is raining, and I must go to bed. Your very happy, YVONNE. XI YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Vire._ Dearest Mama: We are still here in Vire, and we cannot go on for it is raining awfully. It rained all yesterday, and we had _more_ fun. About ten in the morning an automobile arrived with a lady Lee knows named Mrs. Brewer and three men, and about twelve another automobile arrived with Clara and Emily Kingsley and their aunt Clara Emily and Ellsworth Grimm and Jim Freeman and a chauffeur, and about half-past one a runabout automobile came in with the two Tripps. We are like a big house-party, and Mr. Peters plays poker with Uncle every minute, so we can all have no end of a good time. I must explain to you about Mr. Peters, because Lee explained to me. I was so troubled over Mr. Peters being so devoted to Uncle and never winning a single jack-pot once himself that Lee told me all about how it is. It seems that Mr. Peters's mother was married to Mr. Peters's father for quite a while before he died and that Mr. Peters's father wasn't very well off and was very hard to live pleasantly with on account of Mr. Stowell's father, who lived next door and was very well off and very easy for Mr. Peters's mother to get along with always; Mr. Peters's father died when Mr. Peters was about twelve years old, and just as soon as it was perfectly ladylike, Mr. Peters's mother married Mr. Stowell's father and went next door to live and had Mr. Stowell. Lee says Mr. Stowell's father never liked Mr. Peters much because he reminded him of all those years that Mr. Peters's and Mr. Stowell's mother lived next door instead of living with him; but Lee says Mr. Peters is very clever, and he saw how much his father lost from not being easy to get along with, and so he made up his mind to be easy to get along with himself. He gets along so well with Mr. Stowell that they travel together all the time, and Lee says he told him that if he could get along well with Uncle he'd make it well worth his while; so he's getting along beautifully with Uncle, and Lee is making it ever so well worth his while. Clara Kingsley has fallen in love with one of the men who came with Mrs. Brewer--the tall, dark one, who does not talk much and reads German in his room most of his time. There are so many that I get names mixed, but Emily Kingsley is the same as ever, and _such_ a joy to meet again. She says she doesn't fall in love the way Clara does; she only gets badly spattered. The two Tripps are both devoted to Emily, and I think they are all sort of keeping along together. Miss Clara Emily asked after every one in our family, even Aunt Jane. Of course I told her that Aunt Jane had been dead two years, and you ought to have seen her jump and look at Uncle. She asked me if Uncle lived alone in the house, and she looked so reflective that I felt quite uncomfortable. I told Lee about it, but he says Uncle must take his chances the same as the rest of the world when it comes to Miss Clara Emily. I wish Lee wouldn't make light of anything so serious as the way Miss Clara Emily looked reflective. You know you wouldn't like her having all Aunt Jane's lace, and I'm sure that after Uncle was completely married to her, he wouldn't like it at all, either. I don't know what Mrs. Brewer is, but the men that came in the automobile with her are just devoted to her, and she makes every one have a good time. We played cards and Consequences all the afternoon, and Mrs. Brewer told our fortunes from tea-leaves in the evening. She told Uncle to beware of a long, pointed nose which she saw in his cup, and Miss Clara Emily didn't know whether to be mad or glad. She saw a wedding-ring in Lee's cup, and I blushed terribly and tried to cough, and sneezed instead; and Lee said it was an automobile tire, and meant a breakdown. I do think Lee is always so nice. But about eleven we all got a terrible shock, for the handsome man that Clara has fallen in love with suddenly came to the door with his German book in his hand and said to Mrs. Brewer, "Come to bed, Bert. I'm sleepy as the devil." You never saw anything like poor Clara! I thought that she would faint, for you know when Clara falls in love how it goes all through her. She went upstairs a little later, and, as luck would have it, she had the next room to the Brewers, and she says it just about killed her to hear him brushing his teeth, and I promised her I'd never tell, but she says he called her and Emily the "Yellow Kids" and laughed and laughed and laughed. I do think it was very horrid of him, for they can't help having Mr. Kingsley's ears, and I comforted Clara all I could, and told her that the way she puffs her hair is ever so becoming. It isn't a bit, but I had to be as nice as I knew how, for she was crying so that I was afraid Mr. Brewer would call her _Cyrano de Bergerac_, if she didn't stop. I had the room between Uncle and the two Tripps, and the two Tripps calculated their money for three solid hours, I do believe, trying to see whether they'd have to draw on Paris behind them or could wait for London ahead. The big Tripp said Mr. Peters had a hard row to hoe and the little Tripp said Lee had a soft snap, and then they added and subtracted and divided for another hour. I was almost insane when finally the little Tripp said: "Tell me what fifteen times nine is, and then I'll go to sleep," and someone across the hall hollered: "In Heaven's name tell him what fifteen times nine is, and then we'll _all_ go to sleep." There was deadly stillness after that. (NEXT DAY) _Vire._ Dearest Mama: You see, we are still here and it is still raining. Every one telegraphed for mail yesterday and every one got it to-day. I had your letters and one from Edna and one from Mrs. Clary. They are going on a coaching trip with the man who wasn't a duke, and Edna has bought three new hats. Mrs. Clary says I am an angel and that she and Edna think it right out of Heaven the way Lee has turned up. I had three letters from Mr. Edgar, and he says he is thinking of making a trip into Brittany and joining us. I told Lee, and Lee says he isn't thinking anything of the kind, not in his life. I don't really think that Mr. Edgar and Lee would get on very well together. I feel almost sure that they wouldn't like each other. Indeed, I feel quite sure. Poor Clara came to my room while I was reading letters, and she says she is blighted by Mr. Brewer and knows she can never get over it. She says she wouldn't have him know that she has the next room and can hear every word for anything, for she says it's perfectly awful all she's overhearing. She says he called Mrs. Brewer "Ladybug," and it sounded so sweet that she cried for fifteen minutes with the pillow around her head to keep them from hearing her. I'm awfully sorry about Clara, because she is always so sincere. Don't you remember that time that she was so sincere that they were afraid that she would commit suicide over Cleever Wiggins--and that awfully sincere time she had with young Prof. Cook? She says she could stand anything if she could feel that she was reciprocated; but she says she can't feel that Mr. Brewer reciprocates one bit, for he told his wife that he bet Clara would be an older maid than her aunt before she got through with life, and Clara says that's no compliment, however you work it. When we went down-stairs, Mr. Peters and Uncle were playing poker and Miss Clara Emily was sitting by them looking rapt. Heavens! I do hope it will stop raining and let us get away soon, for Uncle told me this noon that she was more unlike Aunt Jane than any woman that he had seen in years. Lee says he hopes we can get away very soon, too; he does not like Ellsworth Grimm. It is a pity, because Ellsworth has grown so nice, and with his pointed beard he is really very handsome. He has done a beautiful sketch of me that every one but Lee thinks is splendid, and I'm going to send it to you when it is finished. Uncle is very good-tempered, and has won over a hundred and fifty francs from Mr. Peters at poker. Mr. Peters says he's played poker for years without meeting such a rattling winner as Uncle, and Uncle believes him. The two Tripps want to go on, too, because they decided to wait for their money at London, and they are afraid they are going to run short. Mr. Brewer wants to go, too, because he has finished his German book. I think we all want to go, because two days is a long while to spend in Vire. Clara says if they cannot go on in the automobile, she must take a train, for she is getting more and more sincere the more she is hearing Mr. Brewer talking to his wife through the wall. Clara says he said that he was going to snip her nose off when they were dressing this morning, and she says he calls her "Puss" till Clara feels as if she should expire in agony. She doesn't get any sympathy from Emily, because Emily has another room, and Emily isn't sincere, anyhow. Emily has thrown over the two Tripps and taken Mr. Stowell, and thrown over Mr. Stowell and gone back to the big Tripp, all in just these two days. Emily asked me if I ever saw such a fool as Clara; she says it almost kills her to have such a sister and such an aunt. She asked me if I'd noticed her aunt looking at my Uncle, and I had to say yes. Then she said she did hope that it would stop raining pretty soon, for she wants to get to Granville and meet a man and get letters from three more. [Illustration: "Miss Clara Emily is getting very much in earnest"] Uncle came into my room this afternoon noon and said the more he saw of Europe the better he liked it, and that Mr. Peters was the sort of friend that was worth making. He said he had decided to go on with them to Mont St. Michel, because they were so urgent that he couldn't well get out of it. He says he hopes I won't consider that he has changed his opinion of Lee because he hasn't, but that he will say this much, and that is, that the fact that a man like Mr. Peters will call Lee his friend proves that he must have some good in him somewhere. Uncle said the Kingsleys seem to be nice girls, and then he coughed, but I didn't say anything, so he dropped the subject. I must tell you, though, that Miss Clara Emily is getting very much in earnest, and every one is noticing it, and Uncle seems pleased. We all played cards to-day and wrote letters and Lee told Ellsworth Grimm he was a blank idiot under his breath. I don't know what was the trouble, and Lee says it isn't any of my business, but I think we are all getting cross from being shut up so much in this little country hotel. Elfrida and her sister arrived about noon, but there wasn't any spare room under two francs, and so they went to the other hotel. Ellsworth Grimm has gone to the other hotel, too. He says it rains in his ceiling and he's afraid he'll get pneumonia. It's getting awful about poor Clara and Mr. Brewer, for he said something about her to-day that almost killed her, and that is so bad that she won't repeat it to me. She says Mrs. Brewer just shrieked with laughter over it, and told him he was the dearest, horridest thing alive. Clara says I cannot possibly guess the torture of being sincere over a married man who howls with laughter over you in the next room. She says she can't help hearing, and she's taken an awful cold standing with her ear to the wall, too. Poor Clara! Emily and the big Tripp went out and walked in the rain most all the afternoon, and I thought she must be very fond of him to be willing to get so wet; but she says all she's done here she's done to make Jim Freeman jealous. I was so surprised when she told me that, for Jim has spent the entire two days with the chauffeur under the automobile. They have only come out to eat and sleep, and if he is in love with Emily, he is certainly taking it easy. _Vire_ (_12 M. next day_). Oh, Mama, we are so tired of this place! Clara has cried herself sick, and her aunt sent for the doctor. Mr. and Mrs. Brewer heard through the wall when he came, and heard that it was Clara, and of course they knew that Clara must have heard them just as well as they could hear the doctor, and they nearly went crazy. Mrs. Brewer came to me in a sort of mad despair and said Mr. Brewer was almost wild. She says she has mimicked Clara and Emily and their aunt over and over, and she never dreamed that the wall was so thin. She says Mr. Brewer talks all the time he dresses and undresses and says anything that comes into his head. They felt perfectly unable to face Clara again, and it was raining so hard that they couldn't go on, so they moved over to the other hotel. _Vire_ (_2 P.M. same day_). It's very funny, but it seems that the little Tripp was dreadfully taken with Mrs. Brewer, so the two Tripps have moved over to the other hotel, too. Mr. Stowell and Emily want to go, too, but they are with parties, and cannot do as they please. The big Tripp came back for his soap, and said he had a fireplace and now Uncle wants to move, too. _Vire_ (_4 P.M. same day_). We did move, and Lee said if we went, he was going. So he and Mr. Peters and Mr. Stowell have come over. So we are all here except the Kingsleys and Jim Freeman. I had to go back for Uncle's soap, and the little Tripp left his pajamas, so we went back together to get both, and poor Clara is delirious, screaming, "Yellow kids, yellow kids!" every minute. Every one thinks she is thinking of shopping in Paris, and I didn't explain; but while we were there, Mr. Brewer came back for their soap and heard Clara, and, as a result, he and his wife went on in their automobile, rain or no rain. They left one of their men named Scott McCarthy, and took Ellsworth Grimm. Ellsworth wanted to go, and Scott wanted to stay, so it happened very nicely. _Vire_ (6 P.M. _same day_). They have just moved Clara over here. She had a fresh fit when she heard Mr. Brewer getting the soap, and Miss Clara Emily thought that a change of scene would benefit her; so they all moved over. Emily told me (I walked over with Emily when she went back to get their soap) that it really wasn't Clara at all: it was that her aunt wanted to keep close to my Uncle. Isn't it awful? And Uncle is so flattered, too! I do hope that it will stop raining to-morrow. Lee doesn't like Scott McCarthy, and it is a pity, for he seems to be such a nice man. It's terribly dull without Mrs. Brewer, she was so lively. Mr. Peters is beginning to look real pale, and Lee says he ought to have a monument to patience erected to him. Jim Freeman is worried over the automobiles; he's afraid something will happen to them on account of our all changing hotels. Wouldn't that be terrible? Lovingly, YVONNE. _Vire_ (_8 A.M. next day_). P. S. Just a line to say that the sun has come out, and that we are all going on by train, except Jim Freeman and the chauffeur. Some one slashed all the automobile tires last night. Isn't that awful? XII UNCLE JOHN AND MONT-SAINT-MICHEL "Well, this is a great change from the automobile--eh, Peters? Of all the outrageous, heathenish actions, that cutting of automobile tires was the worst. Every man at that hotel ought to be hung up and high-strung and quartered--make an example of the whole outfit. I must say, though, that I blame Freeman a good deal myself. He says he felt anxious, and yet he never had that chauffeur set up to watch. Foolish, very foolish; but he'll pay the penalty, having to stay there and wait for the tires from Caen. "Lee, if you could withdraw yourself somewhat from the window, perhaps I could form some faint conception of what the country looks like to the north. If you and Yvonne want to compare maps, I should suggest that you sit side by side instead of holding the map so that it completely covers my horizon. "Well, Peters, and so here we are off for Dol. Dol seems to be the only way to get in or out of Brittany and it must have been so always, for in Matilda's tapestry she's got William and Harold on their way to Dol as a beginning to making things hot for the Lord of Brittany. Very interesting study, that tapestry, Peters. I wouldn't have-- "Stowell, I beg your pardon, but those are my feet, and not valises, that you are going to sleep against. I didn't say anything as long as you took them as they lay, but now that you want my left foot slanting to the right, I must protest. Suppose you end yourself the other way for a change, anyhow. "Well, Peters, and so we are off for Mont-Saint-Michel, bless her old heart--or is Michel a him? I must say, I'm deeply interested in to-day's expedition. Wasn't some English Henry shut up on Mont-Saint-Michel and fed by ravens there, or something like that? Yes; I know there's some such legend, and now we're going to see the spot. How do we get from Dol to the mont? By Pontorson, eh? And then diligence the rest. Well, I must say it sounds like quite an undertaking; but then, if you leave the beaten path, you must always pay the price, and I must say I enjoy these little jaunts with a congenial party. Too bad the Kingsleys couldn't have continued with us. Nice people, the Kingsleys--very interesting girls. What did you say? Oh, yes, of course the aunt was interesting, too; but--what did you say? Nonsense, nonsense! But I will say one thing, Peters, and that is that it pays to travel around when it brings one in contact with people such as yourself and Miss Kingsley. "So this is Pontorson! Do we get down here? Is that the diligence? Do we get up there? Great Scott! how can we? And it looks to be about full already. Do you mean that we have got to climb that little ladder? I don't believe Yvonne can. I don't believe she ought to, even if she can. Can't we go to Mont-Saint-Michel some other way? Peters, I'd like to slay with my own hands that wretch that slashed our automobile. Will you think of the difference he is making in our comfort these days? "Well, Stowell, let's see you skin up there first. Looks easy, don't it, Peters? Lee, you go next. Now, Peters, it's your turn. And now, Yvonne, my child, steady, and start and keep right on to the end. There--there--catch her on top anywhere, Peters. Got her? Are you all right, child? And now for your Uncle John! "Ask him if this is a new ladder. I don't want to take any chances with an old ladder, you know. Well, what did he say? Ask him if people ever do fall or meet with any sort of accidents going up. Well, what did he say? Peters, this looks more serious every minute. What do they have the thing so high for, anyhow? I must say I don't like going up there at all. Ask him if he has ever known anyone to miss their footing? Well, tell him to keep a good grip on the ladder. Now then, one, two,--oh, this is--confound him! tell him to steady it--Great Scott! Landed! "And now that I am up, tell me how in all creation I'm ever to get down again. "Well, why don't we start? That's the worst of Europe, Peters--no push, no energy. Perfectly content to sit on a diligence and stagnate. Let me look at my watch. Eleven. Well, I'm not at all surprised. I wouldn't be surprised at anything that might occur in this vicinity. I tell you, Peters, it will be a glad day for me when I set my foot down hard on a New York steamer pier once more. I can't but feel-- "Ah, so we are to get under way at last! Lumbering old concern--eh, Peters? Great contrast to the automobile--Lee, as there may be some one speaking English within a mile of us, I would suggest that you lower your voice a trifle and give the other fellow a chance. What? I don't catch what you say? Speaking to _me_? Who's speaking to me? _You?_ Well, what do you want to say to me? I'm right here to be spoken to, and from the outlook I should fancy that I was going to be right here for an indefinite length of time. Well, what is it? The Brewers! Where? Ahead there? How do you know? Are you sure? What do you think, Peters? Yes, that's them. Brewer seems to be underneath the machine. Well, what shall we do? Wave and holler? We can't do anything else if we want to. But they are going to be a good deal surprised to see us perched aloft like this. Yes; there's Mrs. Brewer sitting on the bank with McCarthy and the other man. I'd rather be the guests than the owner when it comes to an automobile any day. "Well, why don't you holler, Lee? That's it--make a trumpet out of your hands and just give it to them. Gee! but they are surprised! Holler that we are going to Mme. Poulard Ainé. I suppose that they're going there, too, anyway; no one ever goes anywhere else. Dear me! but they're happy to have that automobile. Lucky for them that they went on just when they did. There's Brewer crawling out from under. Well, I can't stay twisted any longer, so we'll turn our eyes once more to the future. "What's that ant-hill out at sea? It isn't the sea, though, is it? It's land; gray sand, I vow. And so that is Mont-Saint-Michel? Curious. Used to be on land, eh, and then got to be on sea? It appears to me that we have quite a drive before us yet. Looks to me to be three or four miles. What do you say, Peters? Of course I don't know, how big the mont is, so I have nothing to judge the distance by; but I should say three miles at least. "Stowell, I've heard that story you are telling ever since I was born; who ever told you that it was new ought to be shot. This tendency to tell old stories is a perfect vice with some people, Peters, and that brother of yours is forever doing it. I've heard him tell about calling the cabman a pig in France and asking him if he was engaged in Germany until I'm about to the end of my patience. Great Scott! how hot the sun is, and no matter how gaily we lumber along, the mont looks to be equally distant. What is this road we're on, anyway? Seems to be a highway in the most literal sense of the word. Dike, eh? Built on purpose for tourists, I suppose--the American tourists before all, I'll bet. "Well, so that is the mont close to. Appears to just comfortably cover up the whole island. Curious collection of houses and staircases topped off by a church. However, my main care at this moment isn't what we've come to see, but how in thunder we're to get down to see it. Well, the people line up pretty thick, and they have the additional joy of knowing that every last one of us is a tourist. That's one good thing about America, Peters, you can travel there without being a tourist. You pay a stiff price for very little, but that little's good, and the game ends with it. Europe's entirely different: what turns on the light over the wash-stand turns it off over the bed, and then, with all that, they mark light extra in the bill. There don't seem to be any legitimate hotel comforts here: they're all extra. I vow, I hate to take that hard-wood bolster out from under my head nights, for it's the one thing I get for nothing in every hotel. "Well, Yvonne, I think you'd better go down first. You go next, Stowell, and then you, Lee. You and I, Peters, will wait and take our time. I vow, I'm not very keen on this descent. Just hold my hat, will you? Here, you, down there, hold this ladder steady. Peters, I--where's the next step? Peters, you--where's the bottom? I vow I-- "Safe at last! quaint old place--old wall with a gate in it, eh! Fishing-rods and oars all about; when does the tide come in? Faster than a horse can gallop, eh? Well, that must be sad for the horse. Anyhow, I didn't ask how fast it came in; I asked when it would come in next. Well, ask some one. An hour after we leave, eh? Interesting. But come on; let's go up to Mme. Poulard Ainé and eat the omelet, and then we can climb around some. You walk on, Yvonne, and order the luncheon, and Mr. Peters and I will come leisurely after. Yes, my niece is a pretty girl, Peters, but nothing but a child--nothing but a child. No more idea of worldliness than a cat has of a cactus; a great responsibility to travel with--a great responsibility. Between you and me, I used to suspect young Reynolds of paying her attention; but when he took another ship over, and then left Paris before we arrived, I saw my suspicions had been wrong. I said a thing or two about him to Yvonne, and she took it perfectly placidly, so then I saw that it was all off. I don't like to run down a friend of yours, Peters,--and I suppose he must be a friend of yours or you wouldn't have him along with you,--but you're old enough to see that he hasn't got the stuff in him to make any girl happy. He's too--too--well, I can't just express it, but I know that you understand. It takes peculiar attributes to make a woman happy. Now, take me for example. My wife and I were very happy; she always knew just what was expected of her, and she always did it. It followed naturally that-- "And so this is the famous omelet-place. Well, in we go. Quaint--very quaint. Look at the chickens turning on the spit and dripping in a trough. My, but they look good! Mme. Poulard herself, isn't it? Good day, ma'am; bon jour--bon jour. Glory, what a smile, stereoscoped and illuminated! Makes me think of the china cat's head that we used to put a candle inside of when I was a kid. Do we go upstairs? Eat up there, eh? Quaint--very quaint. Every fellow did what he pleased to these walls, evidently. Well, Peters, let's sit down." "And so we now set out to climb Mont-Saint-Michel. Picturesque flight of steps. No, I don't mind climbing--good exercise. Curious little winding walk; old woman with baskets to sell. No, we don't want any; go 'way, go 'way. Terrible nuisance such people. Here's another with yellow flowers. No, no, go 'way, you--and another with matches. No, no, go 'way. Well, that's a pretty tall flight of steps, isn't it, Peters? But I guess we can make it. Where's Yvonne? Ahead, eh? Well, I presume those two fellows can look out for her. Curious about the Brewers not turning up; suppose he's under the automobile yet? Wonder how Freeman is getting on in Vire. Let's stop and look at the view. Fine view! As I was saying, Peters, it was too bad the way we broke up at Vire. I really felt mean over leaving as we did. What did you say? Nonsense; none of that, Peters, none of that. But I will say one thing for her: she certainly was a woman of great perception--always thoughtful for others. Did you notice how she used to push the ash-receiver toward me? It's things like that that make a man comfortable. Astonishing that such a woman should never marry. Well, let's go on. Not more than ninety more steps and two flower women to get over. Peters, have you observed how many stairs there are in Europe? It fairly bristles with them. We go pretty nearly stair-free with us, and over here it's stairs from dawn till-- "Great Scott, will you look at them! Oh, I never can go up there, never! We may as well go back. If you want to, you can go up; but I couldn't possibly see anything that would compensate me for those steps. I'll bet there are ten thousand, and like as not there are more beyond. I'm going back and sit with Mme. Poulard Ainé till it's time to go. You go on alone. Just tell him we don't want any of those oyster-shell pincushions first, will you? Then you go on by yourself, Peters, I've had enough." XIII YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _St. Malo._ Dearest Mama: We are all here together again except the Brewers and the two Tripps and Ellsworth Grimm. It is very jolly, only I am so worried over Uncle and Miss Clara Emily. Even Mr. Peters cannot keep them apart. Lee took Mr. Peters to his room and talked to him seriously, and offered to make Uncle still more worth his while; but Mr. Peters has been agreeable so long that he doesn't do it well any more. He just looks silly, and Lee says if he was us he'd let Uncle go rip. But of course Lee isn't us, and I know that he can't be expected to know just how we feel. If Uncle John marries Miss Clara Emily, I know no one is going to like it at all. [Illustration: In Mont-Saint-Michel] We went to Mont-Saint-Michel, and every one but Uncle went up, and he went seven flights up--he _says_ twenty, but I don't believe that there are more than sixteen or seventeen in all. We were ahead, and never knew that he had stopped being behind, and it was so interesting on top that I forgot I had an uncle. There are beautiful halls and cloisters, and then one goes down through all sorts of horrors while the guide tells who lived five years in this hole and who lived twelve years under those steps. You get to have such a contempt for people who were in prison only one or two years over here--as if they ought to be ashamed of only having been in such a short time. There is a ghostly, ghastly museum in Mont-Saint-Michel where the visitors walk through an unlighted gallery and look in at wax victims doing different things in a very thoughtful manner--all but one man who walked on the sand and was overtaken by the tide, and _he_ looks anything but thoughtful. The best was the battle, which was very realistic and must have been very trying to the leaders; for how could they get absorbed in a fight when the tide would drown them if they kept on a minute too long? There was a man who thought he would escape, and dug a way out with his nails, taking a short life-time to the task; and then he found he'd dug in instead of out, and, after letting himself down with a rope, he came to a bottom all covered with skeletons. I can assure you that I was glad we were all together and that Lee had my arm tight, for the scenes were awful, and I grew so sick toward the last that when we came down at the end and found Uncle sitting on the ramparts with Miss Clara Emily, I nearly screamed. They had all come while we were above, and Emily and some men were out walking on the sand. Clara is somewhat better; but I think she is even more sincere than usual this time. In her locket she has some plaster from the wall that she heard through, and she says she sleeps with it pressed to her lips. And I _know_ that Miss Clara Emily is going to do everything in the world to get Uncle, for Emily says she was traveling just with a little hand-satchel, and now she insists on a suit-case. Oh, dear, I don't know what to do; and Lee is tired of the situation, and wants to go yachting, and I want to go with him. It would be so lovely off yachting with Lee; and the yacht is anchored where we can see her from the city walls. Lee is forever pointing to her. He says Mr. Stowell would let him have her for a month, any day. We passed the Brewers on our way to Mont-Saint-Michel, but they must have seen the Kingsleys and gone back. Mrs. Brewer told me in Vire that they could never meet the Kingsleys again; she said that Mr. Brewer said if he should meet Clara he knew he should explode. I don't think that Mr. Brewer has much heart or he never would have called poor Clara a Yellow Kid; I've known Clara ever since I was a baby, and it never struck me that she looked like that till she told me that Mr. Brewer said so. [Illustration: "Uncle sitting on the ramparts with Miss Clara Emily"] We all took the tram-ride to Rocabey yesterday, but one is so afraid that a wave will wash over the car and drench every one with spray that it isn't much fun. The tide is so funny all along this coast, because the coast is so level that a foot of water covers a mile or so, and when a wave starts to come in there's nothing to stop it at all. I don't think that St. Malo is very interesting, but perhaps that is just Uncle and Miss Clara Emily. He sends her violets, and I know it is he, for it couldn't be Mr. Peters or Mr. Stowell, and it wouldn't be Jim Freeman or Scott McCarthy. She wears them pinned on in such a funny way. (NEXT DAY) _St. Malo._ Dearest Mama: Edna has sent me the letter about your coming over, and I am so relieved. Perhaps you will get here in time to save Uncle from Miss Clara Emily; I do hope so. Edna's things must be lovely, and I read her letter to Lee. He says if I'm good I will have some things of my own some day, and I do hope so; but Uncle is so heavy on my mind that I cannot realize that I shall ever have any life except trying to keep him from Miss Clara Emily. Mr. Peters is no good at all any more, and has a bad cold besides. He and Clara sit on the ramparts and gaze at the sea, and look as if they were two consolation prizes that the people who won didn't care enough about to take home with them. Lee says he never realized that Mr. Peters could peter out quite so completely. Lee wants to go yachting, and wants me to go, too, and I can't leave Uncle, and Uncle won't leave Miss Clara Emily. It's quite stupid here at St. Malo, and we want to go on; but Lee won't go on, and I'd rather stay in a stupid place with Lee than go anywhere without him. He's mad over the Kingsleys tagging along, because he likes Scott McCarthy less and less all the time. Scott walks on the other side of me sometimes, and Lee doesn't like it. I think land is getting on Lee's nerves, and he ought to go yachting; but life is such a tangle just now that I don't know what to do about anything. Miss Clara Emily is hemstitching a handkerchief, and I just know that it is for Uncle. Oh, dear. (NEXT DAY) _St. Malo._ Dearest Mama: Such an awful thing almost happened! Clara had a nightmare, and came near choking to death on Mr. Brewer's plaster--the locket, you know. Uncle says only a prompt, efficient, quick-witted, thoroughly capable nature like Miss Clara Emily's could have saved her. Oh, I just know he's becoming serious, and Lee says it's just tommy-rot about the efficiency, because all in the world that Miss Clara Emily did was to jerk the locket up by the chain; and she did that in such an awfully quick way that poor Clara says she's cured of Mr. Brewer forever. She will have to eat soup through a china straw for several days. Uncle wants to go to Carnac and see the ruins of the Stone Age, and he and Miss Clara Emily are mapping out a trip. I'm sure I don't know what I'll do, for Scott McCarthy has bet Mr. Stowell ten dollars that Uncle gets "hooked" in Carnac. Lee told me, and Lee himself is provisioning the yacht, and says he's cock-sure that he eats some of those provisions aboard of her himself. Emily doesn't want to go to Carnac, and Jim Freeman says it isn't any automobile country, on account of the relics of the Stone Age being so thick in the roads. (NEXT DAY) _St. Malo._ Dearest Mama: Why didn't you write me that Mrs. Whalen was coming abroad? She arrived last night on the Jersey boat, and saw Uncle and Miss Clara Emily on the ramparts through her marine glasses. She hunted us up at once, for she says that affair must stop right where it is. She asked if you approved of Lee, and when I told her that you did, she said then she had nothing to say. Lee introduced her to Mr. Peters, and she sent him straight to bed and had them poultice his chest and mustard-plaster his back, for she says his cold may run into anything. I took her up to Clara, and she sent out for sweet oil, and stopped the china straw, and set her to gargling. She says it's awful the amount she finds to do everywhere she goes, and she was in a train accident before she came to the steamer, and you ought to hear how she chopped people out. The shade in my room didn't work, and she put a chair on a wash-stand, and fixed it with a screw-driver that she carries in her pocket. Jim Freeman wants her to go under the automobile with him; but she says since she's a widow she never goes anywhere alone with one man. Uncle and Miss Clara Emily came in just then, and the effect was paralyzing. Uncle turned red, and poor Miss Clara Emily nearly sank to the floor. Mrs. Whalen advanced toward them as if she were a general leading a cavalry charge afoot, and said: "Well, so the old folks have been out sunning themselves!" Did you ever hear of anything more cruel? Miss Clara Emily looked blue with rage, and said she must go to Clara, and Mrs. Whalen said: "John, come with me," and took Uncle off behind some palms, and Lee and I went away so as not to be anywhere when he came out. We didn't come back until nearly six, and Lee said he supposed we'd find Uncle and Mr. Peters learning to play "old maid"; but when we came in, Uncle was reading a New York paper about a month old, and Mrs. Whalen had gone out with Scott McCarthy to buy Clara a hot-water bag. Miss Clara Emily was upstairs packing, to take Clara to a specialist somewhere else. Mrs. Whalen came to my room after dinner, and said I must rub kerosene or vaseline into my hair every night for a month. I don't want to, but I'm so grateful about Uncle that I'll pour a lamp over myself if she wants me to. Uncle came to my room a while later and said: "Hum!" and shook his watch, and held it to his ear. I don't think he liked being broken up with Miss Clara Emily, but he only said that he was going out on the yacht to-morrow (that's to-day), and for me to consider myself in Mrs. Whalen's charge for the time being. He went away early this morning with Mr. Peters and Jim Freeman and Lee, and Mrs. Whalen and I saw the Kingsleys off for Rennes at noon. I'm sure Miss Clara Emily felt dreadfully over Uncle, and Emily says she's more than ever ashamed of having such an aunt. Emily told me that if an Englishman came on this afternoon's boat from Jersey, to tell him they'd gone to Dol. She didn't want him in Rennes, because she knows two French officers in Rennes. It was not a very nice day for traveling, for there is such a wind they won't be able to have the windows down at all, and you know it's only fun when you have the windows down. Mrs. Whalen says she'd have the windows down anyway; she says she'd like to see the Frenchman that she wouldn't put a window down in his face, if she felt like it. I asked her where she was going next, and she said she had no idea, but she thought to Dol and Mont-Saint-Michel, as long as she is so near. She says it was a stroke of luck her happening here just in time to save Uncle; she's positive he was holding her hand through the marine glasses. She says it's good she came about Mr. Peters, too, not to speak of Clara. [Illustration: "Mrs. Whalen has just come in to say she's going to Dol"] It keeps blowing more, and Scott McCarthy says that they'll be out all night. Lee will like that, and Uncle won't, and Uncle will see that Lee likes it and then he won't like Lee. Oh, dear! But I mustn't mind anything as long as Miss Clara Emily is gone. Mrs. Whalen has just come in to say that she's going to Dol, so as to see the tide come in at Mont-Saint-Michel, and to measure out the ginger so I can make Mr. Peters the tea. I'm sure I'm glad she is going, for she makes me so tired and nervous, always hopping up to fix something with her screw-driver, and I want to wash the petroleum out of my hair before Lee comes back. He doesn't like the smell of petroleum at all. I offered to help her pack, but she doesn't pack. She wears a sort of night-gown for underwaist and petticoat together, and the front of her blouse has pockets inside for all her toilet things. She says she washes one garment every night, and buys a clean handkerchief each Saturday and Wednesday, and has a pocket for her letter of credit sewed to her corset. I think it is awful to be so very convenient. _Later._ She went and never said a thing about me, for it left me all alone with Scott McCarthy, and I know Lee won't like that at all. The mail came, and I thought I'd better say I had a headache and come up here to stay alone till Uncle comes back. I had all your letters and Edna's. Edna is so happy, and everything goes so smooth for her and Harry that I'm almost sorry some days that I'm Uncle's favorite. Lee wants to tell Uncle right out and be done with it; but I want to wait for a favorable time, and every time that things begin to look favorable something unexpected happens to make him say "Hum." It is so trying. Edna says she's getting a lot of things twice over so that I can have half, and she says she thinks we ought to be coming back so as to meet you. I can't make her understand how helpless I am, for I can't do anything with Uncle unless I'm alone with him enough to make him think that I want to do something else. And Lee thinks it is an outrage and says he has rights, too. I do think that if I didn't love Lee I would be really glad to have the world all women, men are so difficult to get along with. But, you know, no matter what I say, I'm having a lovely time after all, and I _am_ grateful to Uncle for having brought us. Lovingly, YVONNE. P. S. It is ten o'clock, and the yacht never came in. If Uncle gets seasick in a storm, he'll never want to lay eyes on Lee again, and he'll _never_ forgive me. XIV YVONNE TO HER MOTHER _Carnac._ Dear Mama: I'm just about in despair, and Lee doesn't know where I am. We reached Carnac last night, and Uncle is "hum-ming" like a top, so to speak. But I must tell you all about it. The yacht got too far out, and the new thumb-screw, or whatever it is on a yacht, stuck, and they blew and pitched until they pitched on to the Island of Jersey, where Lee and Uncle went ashore for Lee to send a machinist aboard. While Lee was busy, Uncle just quietly went aboard the Jersey boat and came back to St. Malo without saying please or thank you to a soul. He walked in on me and told me we were to leave for Dol the next day, and for Heaven's sake not to remind him of Aunt Jane by asking questions. I was dreadfully upset, but of course I never thought for a minute of reminding him of Aunt Jane, so I packed that evening and left a letter for Lee telling him please not to be vexed. We took an early train for Dol (it's always Dol in Brittany), and in Dol we changed for Rennes. Of course I thought that Uncle was chasing Miss Clara Emily when I saw the train marked Rennes, but I didn't dare say a word, for he never spoke but once between Dol and Rennes, and that time all he said was "Hum." [Illustration: A Street in Auray] We reached Rennes, and I thought we would go to a hotel; but we changed cars again--this time for Redon. Uncle spoke again, and asked me if I had the Gaelic grammar handy. I said no, and he said "Hum." Then we reached Redon and changed cars again for Auray. Going to Auray, Uncle asked me what became of Mrs. Whalen, and when I told him that she went to Mont-Saint-Michel, he said her husband was a lucky man to be dead. Then we came to Auray and changed cars for Plouharnel, and I began to wonder why we didn't run off the end of Brittany into the sea. We reached Plouharnel about four in the afternoon, and took a tram for Carnac at once, and when we reached Carnac Uncle said to pardon the personality of the statement, but that he never again would try to keep up with the eternal activity of a young person. I thought that that was pretty hard when I didn't even know where we were going, but I didn't say anything, and when he went to wash, I gave the waiter an extra tip to feed us quickly. After Uncle ate, we went out and walked around Carnac a very little and saw all the people in their black velvet hat-ribbons and short jackets; but when I said they looked picturesque, Uncle said that they looked like darned fools, so we came home, and now we are going to bed. I have written Lee, but I don't know when he will get it, because of course it will have to go backward through all these changes. [Illustration: "When he went to wash I gave the waiter an extra tip to feed us quickly"] (NEXT DAY) _Carnac._ Dearest Mama: Uncle woke up ever so much better this morning, and told me that he pitied any poor wretch who has ever been sicker than he was on "that d----d yacht." He said, too, that any one who could suppose for a minute that he should have any serious intentions toward such a woman as Miss Clara Emily would be even more of an utter idiot than Mrs. Whalen appeared to be. He said, too, that the ticket-agent who told him that Carnac was an easy place to go to, ought to be strangled by the first traveler who got back alive from the effects of believing him to be telling the truth. He said, too, that if he survived Europe and reached home again, he'd get in a bathtub and know when he was well off for one while. He said, too, that when he had once looked around the Stone Age he was going to head for Paris with a speed which he rather guessed would cause the natives to open their eyes. [Illustration: "Broke the bell-rope ordering breakfast"] Then he went to his room and broke the bell-rope ordering breakfast. After breakfast we went to walk and saw more stone walls than I ever saw before. There isn't a wooden house or fence in the whole of Brittany, I believe. We walked to a tiny village called St. Columban's, and climbed the tower of the little church. There was a fine view, but Uncle said he could smell the oysters for miles around, so we came down right off and walked back. There was a girl who said she would drive us all over in the afternoon, and let us take the night train from Auray; so we returned to the hotel and had an early lunch, and then she came to the door with a shaky old thing like a carry-all and a fat little horse, and we started. Mama, you never saw anything like Uncle. Everything was wrong at first--every living thing, and the one saving grace of the situation was that the girl who drove couldn't speak English. But after a while we came to the first menhirs, and Uncle just about went into a fit. They are the most curious things I ever saw, for they stand in parallel rows miles long and every one is resting on its little end and has been resting on its little end for thousands of years. At the first glance Uncle said they were arranged so just for tourists; but he got out and walked around them and tried to shake one or two, and then he said he wouldn't have missed seeing them for the world and that he should never regret coming to Europe as long as he might live hereafter. He was perfectly lovely for a while after that, and we looked at dolmens and cromlechs the whole afternoon, and sometimes we thought they were hay-mows when we saw them far ahead and sometimes we thought they were houses. We only had one unfortunate time, and that was when we had to ferry over the Crach. The ferry was on the other side, and that upset Uncle right away and he asked me if my experience had ever led me to a ferry that was _not_ on the other side. They took nearly half an hour to bring it across, and Uncle said that it would be a great day for Europe if she ever learned what t-i-m-e spelt, and he looked at me as if I were Europe while he said it. They are building a bridge over the Crach, and as soon as we embarked on the rickety old ferry, it blew in between two of the piers and wedged tight, with us on it. Uncle asked me if I was going to have the face to tell him that we were not stuck and were not going to be stuck there indefinitely, and I really didn't know _what_ to answer. The men in the boat hollered and hauled and swore in Gaelic, and finally we were free for fifty feet, and then the tide blew us in between two other piers. Uncle said he could but feel that being stuck twice on the same ferry was a poor reward for a kind-hearted man who was trying to the best of his ability to give some species of instructive amusement to an innocent girl, and then he looked severely at the setting sun while we came loose again and progressed fifty feet more. A great, thick wave came then and broke over the horse and smashed us in so hard and fast that I was honestly scared. Uncle was too mad for words. He said that he would just make one remark, and that was that if he ever gave me a chance to beguile him away from civilization again he would cheerfully and contentedly and silently end his days on any ferry which I would choose to designate to him. It was getting cold, and I was so tired from yesterday that I just shut my eyes and did not speak at all, and when we came loose, Uncle spoke to me quite gently and was very nice all the rest of the way. We were too late for the train and have come back to Carnac. I feel about done up. (NEXT DAY) _Carnac._ Dearest Mama: Lee and Edna and Mrs. Clary are all here. Just listen. Lee looks like a ghost, and it seems that no one noticed Uncle go aboard that Jersey boat because Uncle went aboard by a gang-plank that's forbidden, and he thought that he was drowned, and they dragged the dock and sent down divers, and finally came over to St. Malo to break the news to me, having telegraphed Mrs. Clary and Edna to come at once. He reached St. Malo only to find us gone, and they have been tracing us with the automobile ever since. Lee is so glad Uncle is alive that he keeps grabbing his hand and shaking it and shaking it, and Uncle says I must not mention it to Lee, for it might go to his head, but that he is one of the few young men who have a heart in the right place, and that he has always had a special fondness for him ever since he was a baby. Lee thinks that under the circumstances we had better tell Uncle to-night, and we are going to. I feel rather nervous, but Lee says he can never stand anything like these three days again. [Illustration: "He told Mrs. Clary that he had foreseen this finale to our trip all along," etc.] _Midnight of the same day._ My Own Dearest Mama: Uncle says yes! He says he has been carefully scheming and planning to bring Lee and me together for years. He says there are traits in Lee which are so like his own that he cannot but admit that Lee is one of the very few men in this world calculated to make a woman happy. He told Mrs. Clary that he had foreseen this finale to our trip all along, and I do believe that he really believes himself. The Brewers arrived about nine o'clock to-night, and they are so delighted. Mr. Brewer is so kind; he says Uncle must go to Locmariaquer and around that way with them. I reckon he thinks I need a rest. We told them about Clara and the locket, and I thought that they would die. Mr. Brewer says that never a day passes without their remembering something fresh which she must have overheard. I am so happy over Uncle that I hardly know what to do. He says it has been the pleasantest trip of his life, this little tour with me, and that Lee must never cease to treat me with the tender care which he has given me all along. He says Lee must remember what a sensitive organization a woman has and never indulge in temper or impatience or strong language or sarcasm. Lee is very nice and says "Yes, sir," and nods every time. I do think Lee gets nicer and nicer all the time. We start toward Paris to-morrow. Your awfully happy, YVONNE. XV UNCLE JOHN WELL CONTENT "Well, Mrs. Brewer, this is certainly the only way to travel, after all. Comfortable, clean,--for if there is a smell, some other fellow gets it,--and no jolting. And now that I have that dear child established and off my mind, I feel that I can conscientiously give myself a few days of free and easy pleasure. I've done nothing up to now but consider Yvonne and her needs, mental and material, and although I love the child like my own, still I cannot but admit that a young girl is a great care. And of course you never can be positive that the right man will turn up. However, all's well that ends well, and I'm happy to say that I'm ending this little trip extremely well content. Some men might regret not having seen more, but never me. You see, Brewer, I am one of the easy-going, placid, serene type, and whatever turns up suits me perfectly. I guess if you ask my family far and wide you won't find one member to deny that statement, or if you do, you will just have the kindness to let me know who it is and I'll take steps to prevent their ever expressing such an opinion a second time. "Fine view here. Good road. Believe I'll have a machine of my own when I get back to America. What's that island off at sea? Belle-Isle, eh? Dumas' Belle-Isle? Very interesting. We might make a little excursion out there, calling ourselves the Three Mousquetaires, eh? I'll be d'Artagnan; I always fancy d'Artagnan. I tell you, Brewer, something martial gets up and stirs around in my bosom as a result of this trip--a sort of dare-devil, Robert-the-Devil, piratical, Crusader sort of a thrill. I shall never be sorry that I came. The trip has not been one of unmitigated joy. We have borne our crosses,--many crosses,--and yet I will remark--and I'll swear it, too, if you like,--that I'm glad I came. "I've seen thoroughly every place I've been in. I've made my niece enjoy life, and I've made every one else with whom I came in contact enjoy life. I've won for her just the one man calculated to make her happy, and now I am headed for the one land calculated to make me happy. "I'm glad that I came, I'm glad that I came." THE END

Seeing France with Uncle John

Warner, Anne

1869

1913

['en']

43

{'Travelers -- Fiction', 'France -- Fiction'}

PG35574

Text

https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Some of My War Stories A Paper Read Before The Ohio Commandery of the Loyal Legion By Allen Ripley Foote October 1, 1913 Some of my War Stories BY ALLEN RIPLEY FOOTE Private: Co. B. 3rd Michigan Infantry; Second Lieutenant: Co. B. 21st Michigan Infantry. Read before the Commandery of the State of Ohio, Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States. Stated meeting, Cincinnati, Wednesday evening, October 1, 1913. When, in 1861, President Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers to enlist for a three months' service to uphold the authority and preserve the unity of the United States, I, a boy of nineteen, sought the first opportunity that offered, to enlist. I was at the door of the recruiting office long before it opened. Dr. D. W. Bliss, who afterward became a famous army surgeon and was one of the surgeons who attended Presidents Lincoln and Garfield, gave me the required physical examination. When measuring my height he said--"Raise your heels, you are a little short." Before my regiment was mustered in, the call came for 300,000 volunteers to enlist for a three-years' service, and we were mustered in for three years. My regiment was ordered to Washington as soon as it was ready to move. Clad in grey uniforms and armed with old muzzle-loading Harper's Ferry muskets, which had been changed from flint locks, we made a valiant appearance and received ovations from the populace of every city and village through which we passed. This is especially true of Ohio. At one station all of the ladies of the town turned out loaded with small bouquets of flowers, to which were pinned slips on which they had written patriotic sentiments. These they threw into the car windows. The sentiment on the one I caught read--"The women of Ohio are for the Union--to a man." Our first camp was at the Maryland end of the Chain Bridge, which crossed the Potomac above Washington. We marched from this camp to Centerville, Va., to engage in the first battle of Bull Run. The first sight we had of war was on the morning of the second day's march, when we came upon some camp fires where the Confederates had cooked their breakfast that morning before leaving for Bull Run. We arrived at Centerville before noon of the third day and made our camp there. After dinner we were ordered to advance, in light marching order, toward Blackburn's Ford. When near the Run we were deployed to the left of the road in an open field on a hillside sloping down to the Run, which was concealed by a growth of bushes and trees. Here we were ordered to rest. While in this position we were startled by seeing a finely-mounted and uniformed Confederate Officer ride out from these bushes just at the right of our regiment. I presume every man in the regiment saw him. Some three or four of the boys, having the instinct of war in them, immediately raised their guns to shoot him. Seeing this, our Colonel raised his hand in a forbidding attitude and called out,--"Why, boys, you would not shoot a man in that way, would you? Don't shoot!!" The Confederate Officer, after inspecting our position, returned to his command unharmed. In about fifteen minutes, as soon as he could maneuver his regiment, he ordered it to fire. We saw the flash and smoke and heard the roar and the hissing of the bullets. This is the first time we were under fire. I am glad to say we were under it about 20 feet. Every bullet passed over us. Not a man in our regiment was hit. After this volley we were complimented with a few shots from a battery of six-pound field pieces, which also went wide of their mark--assuming that they were shooting at us. Having received these compliments, we were withdrawn from the field and returned to our camp at Centerville. This was our part in the skirmish of Blackburn's Ford, three days before the first battle of Bull Run. On the next day we were ordered to establish a picket line between Centerville and Bull Run. When marching out from our camp toward the Run, we could see cars loaded with Confederate soldiers as their train crossed the road we were on. When they disembarked and formed in line the glistening of their bright gun barrels gave the impression they were aiming at us. This excited one of our boys terribly. He jumped out into the centre of the road, swinging his hat and yelling as loudly as he possibly could--"Don't shoot this way!! There are folks in the road!!" These two stories illustrate what we knew at that time about war. On the night before the battle I was detailed to do guard duty before General Dick Richardson's headquarters. He was occupying a small house. About eleven o'clock he came out and asked me if I would be on duty there at three o'clock in the morning. I answered "Yes." Then he said pointing in the direction of the Stone Bridge, "About three o'clock in the morning a cannon will be fired over there. When you hear it, call me at once. A great battle will be fought here tomorrow." I needed nothing more to keep me awake that night, nor did the General. He was out two or three times before the alarm gun was fired. On the day of the first battle of Bull Run, having been on guard duty all night, I was left in camp when my regiment was ordered out. I took advantage of the opportunity to post myself on the Centerville Hill where I could overlook the field of action. Thus it happened that I was on the spot where the Congressional picnic party spread its luncheon. A number of members of Congress, with their ladies, drove out to Centerville from Washington in their carriages to have a picnic and see the battle. From that position I saw the beginning of the panic when our troops on the right gave way and started for the rear in indescribable disorder. I went to our camp, secured my gun and accoutrements and joined in the stampede. Several times that night, when stopping for a little rest, I, and all about me, was aroused and terrified by the cry--"The black horse cavalry are coming!" The next morning I was safely back across the Potomac on the old Chain Bridge camping ground, competent to certify that the distance from Washington to Centerville is--three days going, and one night coming back. As soon as our regiment got together we were ordered to go into camp on the Arlington Flats, south side of the Potomac, opposite Washington. There it was that Abraham Lincoln gave courage and cheer to the army by driving slowly around among the troops in an open carriage, stopping a moment here and there to speak to or take the hand of a private soldier, his face inspired with the solemn grandeur of an awful duty to prosecute the war for the preservation of the Union to a successful conclusion, or the bitter end. I see his face now, colored and featured as can never be done by brush or chisel. It inspires me now, as it did then, with a resolve such as every soldier in that army felt as he looked upon Lincoln's face that day--a resolve unformed in words but possessing my life--always to do my duty for the cause of human rights and human welfare on every occasion and in every way, as God gives me light to see it and power to do it. In the spring of 1862 my regiment was transported from Alexandria, Va., to Hampton Roads, when the Army of the Potomac changed its base to start its march "On to Richmond" from Old Point Comfort. We soon appeared before the Confederate fortifications at Yorktown. Here we were ordered to dig. When the digging was done the Confederate forces abandoned their fortifications and marched to Richmond. We followed closely. Their rear guard made a stand at Williamsburg, stopping our advance. The battle of Williamsburg was then on. The Confederates had prepared to defend this position by making slashings, digging rifle pits and erecting forts. Fort Magruder covered the main road into Williamsburg. The engagement at this point was brought on by some New Jersey troops. They advanced a battery on this road to a point directly in front of the Fort and very near the rifle pits. Here the battery stuck in the mud, hub deep. It could not be moved further nor brought back. During the day it was captured and recaptured several times. At that time my regiment, and the Michigan Second Infantry, were part of Gen. Phil Kearny's Division. We were on the left of the road, the New Jersey troops on the right. In the middle of the afternoon, when Gen. Hancock was prepared to make his famous charge on the Confederate left, Gen. Kearny, mounted on a white horse and dressed in full uniform, as conspicuous a figure as can well be imagined, came dashing up to the Michigan Second regiment and called out--"What regiment is this?" Col. Poe, a regular army officer, immediately saluted the General and said--"The Michigan Second Infantry, Col. Poe commanding." General Kearny said--"I want this regiment." Col. Poe turned to give the required regulation orders, but Gen. Kearny stopped him saying--"None of that! Come on boys!" A captain of his staff, seeing what he was about to do, tried to stop him, saying--"General you should not go into the engagement in this way. Remember, your life is worth a whole regiment to the army." Turning to him like a flash, Gen. Kearny said--"If you do not want to go, stay here." At that he reined his horse into the road and started toward the Confederate lines, waving his sword and shouting back--"Come on boys!" and every man followed, on both sides of the road, pell mell, without order, wading through mud and climbing through slashings up to the rifle pits in order to get there. How I came to be there I do not know, but I do know that I went up that road with my right shoulder next to Gen. Kearny's left stirrup and kept that position until he reached the further edge of the slashing, when he turned and, pointing to the Confederates in their rifle pits, shouted to the men coming after him--"There they are!! Give them hell, boys, give them hell!!" At this moment, as if by inspiration, a band burst forth with the tune, "All hail, the conquering hero comes." Above the roar of musketry and cannonading came the cheers from the charge Hancock was making. The New Jersey boys again manned their battery and began to play on the rifle pits and on Fort Magruder. The Fort answered and every Confederate rifle in the pits was speaking to us. No one who lived through those moments of strife and sacrifice will ever forget the scenes, the exaltation and the devotion of life to patriotic duty that was there manifested. Our men struggled through the slashings as best they could, in groups of two or more. A New Jersey boy was with me. We stopped behind a clump of small bushes to watch our chances with the Confederates in the rifle pits less than two hundred feet in front of us. There was a larger group to our left that attracted the attention of the Confederates. Shots were being exchanged as rapidly as heads appeared on either side. Suddenly, out from the group to our left, came a ringing laugh, as joyous and care-free as was ever heard at a base ball game. My comrade was possessed with a desire to know its cause. Shortly that laugh came again. He declared he would go and find out why they were laughing. I told him if he stirred he would be shot, but he made the attempt. As soon as he raised himself, before he had taken a step, he was shot and instantly killed. Attention having been thus called to the spot, a confederate volley was fired into that clump of bushes. I saved myself by lying down behind the body of my dead comrade. As the sun was dropping below the western horizon the Confederate rifle pits were captured. Hancock's charge had succeeded. Fort Magruder fired its farewell shot; the Confederate rear guard was on its way to Richmond. The battle of Williamsburg was ended. The next day, one of a group of Confederate prisoners declared there was one thing about that battle he could not understand. He said he was a sharp shooter; that he could hit a mark quite a distance away every time, and offered to prove it by actual demonstration. The thing he could not understand was--why he could not hit General Kearny the day before. He said he saw him plainly; knew he was a commanding officer, and that he deliberately shot at him six times. General Kearny was not touched, but the Captain who tried to persuade him not to expose himself as he did was shot through the heart and instantly killed by the side of the General. An interval of time, a march through mud and water almost waist deep, brought us to Fair Oaks, within sight of Richmond. Heavy rains had made it almost impossible to ford the Chickahominy River which divided McClellan's army. Seeing an advantage in this, General Lee ordered General Longstreet to attack the part of our army that had succeeded in crossing the river. General Casey's division received the brunt of this attack. General Kearny's division was held in reserve to support General Casey. We ate our dinner and then lay on our arms for some little time, just out of range, tracing the course of the action by listening to the firing and watching the increasing number of wounded making their way to the rear. To be thus held in reserve, expecting every moment to be called into action, is the supreme trial of a soldier's courage. In those moments my heart became faint. But, when the bugle call was sounded calling us into action, all thought of self vanished. As eager as an eagle in pursuit of its prey, we went forward. Longstreet's division was making a final charge. Casey's men passed through our ranks as we formed a line between the contending forces. My Company had the regimental colors, defended by a detailed color guard of sixteen corporals. I was not of this guard, but was a corporal then, on the left of my Company next to the color guard. Our line was hardly formed when we received the Confederate charge. Firing was at short range. Fourteen out of the sixteen corporals composing the color guard were shot almost simultaneously; some killed; some wounded, but the colors did not fall. I was on my knees in the front rank. The corporal on my left was shot in the head and fell across my legs. He spoke to me. I turned to look at him, and said--"I cannot stop work now to help you." As I said this I was shot, the bullet entering squarely on my breast, cutting off the first shirt button below the collar. It passed through the bone, which turned its course to the right, and passed out between the ribs. I was in the act of loading my gun at its muzzle. I had the powder in. When hit my right arm fell. I tried three times to put the bullet in and finish loading, hoping to give the enemy one more shot. Finding I could not do it, I dropped my gun, unstrapped my cartridge box and crawled to the rear until I came to a cleared field where a battery was stationed firing over the heads of our men into the Confederate ranks. As I raised up to walk, a gunner motioned to me to step aside out of range and then continued firing. I walked around back of the battery and stopped to see it work and listen to the music of its roar. The Confederate charge was stopped. My regiment lost about one hundred and fifty men in killed and wounded within the few moments the engagement lasted. That night I lay on the ground under a large tree. Noting that every breath sent bubbles of air through my wound, I called a soldier who was trying to care for the wounded and told him I could not live long on half-rations of air. He looked at my wound, tore some square pieces off a bandage roll, placed them over the wound and punched them into it with his finger and poured some cold water on the cloth. This caused the blood to congeal about the cloth and enable me to get the benefit of the air I was breathing. The next morning I was taken back to Savage Station where I was placed on Dr. Bliss' dressing table (he was then Medical Director of the Division) to have my wound dressed. As he cut my shirt off I looked up at him and said, laughingly, "Doctor here is a wound you cannot amputate." As soon as he had uncovered it, he said, "It would be much better for you, my boy, if I could." When my shirt was cut off, I discovered another wound on my left arm about half way between the shoulder and elbow. The bullet had chipped off a spot as large as a silver dollar but had not buried itself in the flesh. The arm was black and very much swollen. My wounds were soon bandaged and I was laid on the ground beside the railroad track to await transportation to Fortress Monroe. From there I was sent to Long Island College Hospital in Brooklyn, N. Y. When convalescent I was ordered to the Invalid Camp at Alexandria, Va. I did not relish the idea of becoming a "condemned yankee" as the members of Invalid Corps were then called. In going through Washington we passed by the Armory Square Hospital, then in charge of Dr. Bliss. I "fell out" and went into his office. Fortunately I found him at his desk. When he looked at me he recognized me at once and said, "See here, young man, this will never do. You will ruin my reputation. I reported you mortally wounded at Fair Oaks and have had you dead and buried in the Chickahominy swamp for six months." I said, "I will improve your reputation by giving you an opportunity to resurrect me." I then told him I did not want to be a "condemned yankee" and wanted him to find a way to save me from going to the Invalid Camp. He immediately called the hospital steward, ordered him to put me in bed and keep me there four days, I protested, saying I was perfectly able to be about. The Doctor said to me in an undertone, "You stay in bed four days; by that time I will have an order assigning you to duty in my office." I was given charge of making out the papers for the soldiers discharged from the Hospital. I frequently urged the Doctor to order me to my regiment, but he refused, saying I could never serve as an enlisted man since receiving my wound. Being convinced there was no hope of ever being permitted to join my regiment, I made out my own discharge paper and placed it in a package I submitted to the Doctor for his signature. After he had signed all of the papers, I took mine out of the package and showed it to him. He endorsed it, "Able to serve as an officer, but not as an enlisted man." I will stop my story here, only adding that after returning home I re-enlisted as a private in Company B. 21st Michigan Infantry, then with the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga. I was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant before I left the State to join that regiment. By chance, that commission was dated on January 26, 1864, my twenty-second birthday. Such memories as these are among the most precious products of my life. The gains of life are various. Some objects we pursue disappear as we grasp them. We are children, chasing with excited delight beautiful bubbles floating free in air. We touch them and they vanish. Some objects are as enduring as the eternal truth of God. We pursue them with the stern courage of men upborne by the strength of a moral conviction. Though, in the hour of trial and triumph, a crown of thorns be pressed upon our brow, the memory of a right act, courageously done, will enrich the soul forever. The memory of such actions is the richest endowment and the most sacred acquisition of the loyal volunteer. How little all that can be given him as a reward for his services must ever be in comparison with that which he has by right of his own achievement. Ask him now how he values his memory of that day when, with his regiment, he first left home for the scenes of war. Can the picture ever fade? Streets thronged with the populace and decorated with the flag he was to defend! Can he ever forget the holy inspiration of the silent cheer from his speechless father, mother, sister or lover as he passed them? Ask him how he values his memory of a thousand incidents of army life that are never recorded by a single line on the page of history, but which revealed comrade to comrade, knotted life to life, and gave opportunity for the expression of nobility by noble men. Ask him how he values his memory of the hours of conflict when the magnetic touch of elbow to elbow, comrade to comrade, gave courage and the line grew firm as adamant; when the spirit of those who fell entered into those who remained, as the dying transformed their unwilling groans into cheers for the living. In the crucible of conflict men become molten. Their blood mingles. Their souls blend. Their lives are fused into the life of the Nation. Who that has felt the mystic power, the grand exaltation, the unutterable joy of that supreme moment when his heart's blood leaped forth as he fell at his post, would call back one drop of it for all that can be given him in return? Ask him now how he values the memory of that day, when, duty done, his mission accomplished, with tattered battle flags, clothes soiled and torn, bronzed face and hardened muscles--it may be with scarred and disabled body--he returned to his home with the survivors of his regiment. Again the streets are thronged with the populace and decorated with the National colors. The storm cloud passed, all are wild with joy made solemn by thoughts of those who could not come, remembered by none more tenderly than by those by whose side they fell. The glory of flowers, mingled with the voices of music, enchant the eye, perfume the air, exalt the soul. Suddenly, from out the mass of eager faces there darts a father, a mother, a sister or a lover, as some looked-for-one is recognized. The heart can endure the strain no longer. He is snatched from the ranks and embraced amidst the cheers of all observers. Words!! There are no words for such moments! But the entry written by the recording angel that day will forever read--"Thank God! My boy, my brother, my lover has done his duty." The days of trial and victory are passed, but memory causes them to live forever in the eternal NOW. Such memories are the true reward of loyal duty courageously performed. They can be possessed only by those who have earned them. Find such a one, become acquainted with him, and you will find one who will exact least from the defended and is most generous to the vanquished. These memories stir within old soldiers their best manhood, and thrill them with noblest pride as they look into each other's faces. They only are capable of appreciating at their true value the comrades of the campaign, the veterans of the battlefield. They, better than all others, know how to honor him that was loyal and performed the duties of loyalty when the Nation had need of his services. All who seek to perpetuate the history of war for the preservation of the Union by pen or brush or chisel; all who speak about or ponder over the events of those days, must ever stand uncovered in the presence of him who can say of the first battle of Bull Run, of the last grand review, or of any of the battles between--"I performed the duties of Loyalty--I was there."

Some of My War Stories: A Paper Read before the Ohio Commandery of the Loyal legion

Foote, Allen Ripley

1842

1921

['en']

29

{'United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives'}

PG31991

Text

[Illustration: A Household Management pupil in uniform] ONTARIO TEACHERS' MANUALS HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT AUTHORIZED BY THE MINISTER OF EDUCATION TORONTO THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1916, BY THE MINISTER OF EDUCATION FOR ONTARIO CONTENTS PAGE COURSE OF STUDY--DETAILS 1 CHAPTER I Introduction 5 Correlation with Other School Subjects 7 Rooms 9 Equipment 12 Tables, seats, racks, sinks, class cupboard, stoves, black-boards, illustrative material, book-case, utensils 23 Equipment for Twenty-four Pupils 23 Class table, sink and walls, general cupboard equipment, kitchen linen, cleaning cupboard, laundry equipment, dining-room equipment, miscellaneous 28 Equipment for Ordinary Class-rooms 28 Equipment, Packing-box 30 For Class 31 Individual Equipment for Six Pupils 32 CHAPTER II Suggestions for Class Management 33 Teachers' Preparation 33 Number in Class 33 Uniforms, etc. 33 Discipline 34 Division of Periods 35 Assignment of Work 36 Supplies 37 Practice Work at Home 37 Suggestions, General 38 Suggestions for Schools with Limited or no Equipment 39 CHAPTER III. FORM III: JUNIOR GRADE Correlations 42 Arithmetic, geography, nature study, hygiene, physical training, composition, spelling, manual training, art, sewing 45 CHAPTER IV. FORM III: SENIOR GRADE Scope of Household Management 46 Equipment, Uniform, etc., Survey of 47 Equipment, Use of 48 Cleaning, Development of a Lesson on Meaning of Cleaning 49 Methods of Cleaning 49 Common Household Cleansing Agents 50 Black-board Outline 51 Dish Washing 52 Table Cleaning 53 Sink Cleaning 54 Dusting 54 Measures and Recipes Measures 55 Equivalent Measures and Weights, Table of 58 Measuring, Plan of Lesson on 58 Time limit, preparation, development, practical work to apply measuring, serving, note-taking, housekeeping, recipe for cocoa 62 Recipes 62 CHAPTER V. FORM III: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) Cookery Meaning of Cooking 64 Reasons for Cooking Food 64 Kinds of Heat Used 64 Different Ways of Applying Dry Heat 64 Different Ways of Applying Moist Heat 64 Thermometer, Lesson on 65 Boiling Carrots, Plan of Lesson on 68 Aim, time limit, preparation for practical work; practical work; development of the ideas of boiling as a method of cooking; serving, housekeeping, recipe in detail 70 Simmering Apples, Plan of Lesson on 70 Introduction, discussion of recipe, practical work, development of ideas of simmering; serving, housekeeping, recipe (individual) 72 Methods of Cooking: Details 73 Boiling 73 Simmering 74 Steaming 74 Steeping 75 Toasting 76 Broiling 76 Pan-broiling 77 Sautéing 78 Baking 78 Frying 79 Left-overs, Suggestions for the Use of 82 Bread, cake, meat, fish, eggs, cheese, vegetables, canned fruit 84 Beverages 84 Meaning of Beverages 84 Kinds of Beverages 85 Tea, coffee, cocoa, chocolate 86 Table Setting 87 Table Manners 90 CHAPTER VI. FORM IV. JUNIOR GRADE Kitchen Fire, The 92 Requirements 93 Heat, oxygen, fuels 96 Kitchen Stove, The 96 Fireless Cooker, The 99 Principles of Fireless Cooker 100 Reasons for Use of Fireless Cooker 100 Ways of Using Fireless Cooker 100 Home-made Fireless Cooker, A 101 CHAPTER VII. FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) Food, Study of 103 Uses of Food 103 Necessary Substances in Food 105 Sources of Food 106 Common Foods, Study of 106 Milk 107 Eggs 110 Vegetable Food, Study of 114 Comparative food value of different parts of plants 119 Green vegetables, root vegetables and tubers, ripe seeds (peas, beans, and lentils) 120 Vegetables, General Rules for Cooking 122 Fruit, General Rules for Cooking 123 Fresh Fruit 123 Dried Fruit 123 Starch, Use of, to Thicken Liquids 124 Flour, Use of, to Thicken Liquids 125 Cream of Vegetable Soups 126 Principles of Cream Soups 126 Seeds, Outline of Lesson on Cooking 127 Cereals 127 Legumes: Peas, Beans, Lentils 128 Nuts 128 Salads 129 Ingredients of Salads 129 Food Values of Salads 129 Preparation of Ingredients 130 Dressings for Salads 130 Mineral Food, Study of 131 Summary of Sources of Mineral Foods 133 Diet 133 Reference Table of Food Constituents 134 Water, mineral matter, protein, sugar, starch, fat 134 Preparing and Serving Meals: Rules 136 CHAPTER VIII. FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) House, Care of the 138 Bed-room, Directions for Care of 138 Sweeping, Directions for 139 Dusting, Directions for 140 Metals, Care and Cleaning of 140 Iron or steel, tin, granite and enamel ware, aluminium, zinc, galvanized iron, copper or brass, silver, recipe for silver polish 144 CHAPTER IX. FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) Laundry Work 145 White Cotton and Linen Clothes, Lesson on Washing 145 Materials--water, alkalies, soap, soap substitutes or adjuncts, blueing, starch 149 Preparation for Washing 150 Process of Washing 151 Removal of Stains 152 Woollens, Outline of Lessons on Washing 153 Experiments with Cloth Made of Wool Fibre 154 Points in Washing Woollens 156 Steps in Washing Woollens 156 CHAPTER X. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE Foods 157 Food, Preservation of 158 Bacteria 158 Canning 160 Jams and Preserves 163 Jelly 164 Pickling 165 CHAPTER XI. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) Cookery 166 Flour, Outline of Lesson on 166 Sources of flour, kinds of flour made from wheat, composition of white flour, kinds of wheat flour, tests for bread flour 167 Flour Mixtures, Outline of Series of Lessons on 168 Meaning of flour mixtures, kinds of flour mixtures, methods of mixing flour mixtures, framework of flour mixtures, lightening agents used in flour mixtures 169 Experiments 170 Baking-powder 170 Cake making 171 Classes of cake, directions for making cake, rules for mixing cake, directions for baking cake 173 Recipe for Basic Cake 174 Variations of Recipe for Basic Cake 174 Spice cake, nut cake, fruit cake, chocolate cake 174 Recipe for Basic Biscuits 175 Variations of Recipe for Basic Biscuits 175 Sweet biscuit, fruit biscuit, scones, fruit scones, short cake for fruit, dumplings for stew, steamed fruit pudding 175 Bread Making 176 Yeast, Outline of Lessons on 177 Bread Making, Practical 179 Ingredients of plain bread, amount of ingredients for one small loaf, process in making bread 180 Breads, Fancy 180 Bread-mixer, The 182 Pastry 183 Pastry, outline of lesson on--ingredients 184 Notes on flour, fat, water: lightening agents used in pastry: kinds of pastry: amount of ingredients for plain pastry for one pie 184 CHAPTER XII. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) Meat 186 Names of Meat 187 Parts of Meat 188 Composition of Fat 188 Composition of Bone 188 Composition of Muscle 190 Meat Experiments 191 Selection of Meat 192 Care of Meat 193 General Ways of Preparing Meat 193 Notes on Tough Meat 193 Digestibility of Meat 195 General Rules for Cooking Meat 198 Baking, broiling, boiling, stewing, beef juice 199 Fish Points of Difference Between Fish and Ordinary Meat 199 Kinds of Fish 200 Selection of Fish 200 Cooking of Fish 200 Gelatine 200 Source 201 Commercial Forms 201 Properties 201 Steps in Dissolving 201 Value in Diet 202 Ways of Using 202 Frozen Dishes 203 Value 203 Kinds 203 Water ice, frappé sherbet, ice cream, plain ice cream, mousse 203 Practical Work 204 Freezing, packing, moulding 204 Planning of Meals 205 CHAPTER XIII. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) Infant Feeding 208 Modified Milk, Recipe for 209 Pasteurizing Milk, Directions for 209 Bottles, Care of 210 Food, Care of 210 Feeding, Schedule for 211 CHAPTER XIV. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) Household Sanitation 212 Means of Bacteria Entering the Body 212 Common Disease-producing Bacteria 213 Methods of Sanitation 214 Disposal of Waste in Villages and Rural Districts 215 Methods of Disinfecting 215 Home Nursing 216 Sick Room, The 216 Location, furniture, ventilation, care 216 Disinfecting, Methods of 218 Patient, The 218 Care of the bed, and diet 218 Poultices 221 Fomentations 222 BIBLIOGRAPHY Home, The 223 Science and Sanitation 223 Food and Dietetics 223 Cooking and Serving 224 Laundry Work 224 Home Nursing 225 Economics 225 Magazines 225 PUBLIC AND SEPARATE SCHOOL COURSE OF STUDY DETAILS FORM III: JUNIOR GRADE BILLS OF HOUSEHOLD SUPPLIES: Furniture, bed and table linen, material for clothing Fuel, meat, milk, groceries Weekly or monthly expenses of an average household Comparison of home and store cost of cooked food, such as cake, bread, meat, canned fruit. SOURCES OF HOUSEHOLD MATERIALS: Fuel Timber for building, and furniture Cotton, linen, woollen, paper, china Common groceries, such as salt, sugar, spices, tea, coffee, cocoa, cheese, butter, cereals Cleansing agents, such as coal-oil, gasolene, turpentine, whiting, bathbrick, soap. MANUFACTURE OF HOUSEHOLD MATERIALS: Cotton, linen, woollens, paper Salt, sugar, tea, coffee, cocoa, cheese, butter, cereals. KITCHEN AND EQUIPMENT: Arrangement of a convenient kitchen Necessary utensils. FORM III: SENIOR GRADE CLEANING: Elementary principles of cleaning Practice in cleaning dishes, tables, sinks, towels. COOKERY: Table of cooking measurements A recipe (parts, steps in following) Reasons for cooking food; kinds of heat used; methods of cooking Practice in making simple dishes of one main ingredient. SERVING: Setting the table Table service and manners. FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE THE KITCHEN FIRE: Requirements of a fire Comparative merits of fuels Construction and care of a practical stove. STUDY OF FOODS: Uses of food to the body Necessary elements in food Composition of the common foods, excepting meat and fish. COOKERY: Practice lessons in preparing and cooking the common foods, (milk, eggs, meat, fish, fruit, vegetables) Cooking and serving a simple breakfast and a luncheon. CARE OF THE HOUSE: Review of methods of cleaning taken in Form III Cleaning and care of household metals Sweeping and dusting Care of a bed-room. LAUNDRY WORK: Necessary materials and the action of each Process in washing white clothes. NOTE.--These subjects are intended to be taught simply (not technically). In schools where there is no laundry equipment, the order of work may be developed in class and the practice carried on at home. FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE PRESERVATION OF FOOD: Causes of decay, principles and methods of preservation Practice in canning. COOKERY: Practice lessons to review cooking common foods Flour (kinds, composition of white flour); flour mixtures (kinds, methods of mixing, lightening agents) Practice in making bread and cake Practice in cooking meat Cooking and serving a simple home dinner at a fixed cost. FOODS: Composition of meat and fish Planning meals so as to obtain a broad balance of food elements. INFANT FEEDING: Proper food; pasteurizing milk Care of bottles and food Schedule for feeding. HOUSEHOLD SANITATION: Disposal of waste Principles and methods of sterilizing and disinfecting. HOME NURSING: Two simple lessons to include the following: 1. The sick-room (location, size, ventilation, care) 2. Care of patient's bed, and diet 3. Making of mustard and other simple poultices. NOTE.--Where no equipment has been provided, a large doll and doll's bed will serve. LAUNDRY WORK: Washing of woollens (the processes). HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Until a comparatively recent period, education was regarded mainly as a means of training the intellect, but this conception of education is now considered incomplete and inadequate. Our ideas of the purpose of schools are becoming broader, and we have decided that not only the mental nature, but all the child's activities and interests, should be given direction by means of the training given in our schools. We believe also that these activities and interests can be used to advantage in assisting the mental development. Household Management aims to educate in this way, by directing the mind to ideas connected with the home and by training the muscles to perform household duties. Though deemed essentially practical, this subject will, if rightly presented, give a mental training similar to other subjects of the Course of Study. It should do more. While a pupil is made familiar with the duties of home life and with the materials and appliances used in the home, she will be unavoidably led to think of the work of the larger world and to realize her relation to it. When such knowledge comes, and a girl begins to feel that some part of the world's work depends on her, true character-building will begin. The purpose of this Manual is to assist teachers in presenting Household Management to public and separate school classes in such a way as to attain these ends. It is hoped that it will be especially useful to those teachers whose training in the subject has been limited. An attempt has been made to explain the work of Form III Senior, and of the Junior and Senior divisions of Form IV. The topics of Form II Junior are not discussed, as the work of this Form is intended to be taught as information lessons, for which general methods will suffice. In the other Forms mentioned, the topics of lessons are outlined in detail, but the method of presentation is not given except in typical cases. Both outline and method are intended to be merely suggestive and to leave opportunity for the teacher's originality. In cases where topics seem incompletely outlined, it is due to the fact that they are treated in other school subjects or postponed until the pupils reach a more advanced stage of mental development. The order of lessons is optional, also the amount of work each should include, unless this is specially stated. Many lessons are suitable for rural schools, which have no equipment except what the ingenuity of the teacher may provide. In such schools, the teacher may perform the practical work, while the class observes. Throughout the lessons, there is the difficulty of presenting scientific facts to immature minds in a way that will be simple and clear. The use of technical language would often assist the expression, and this is apt to be unconsciously employed, but there is danger of such forms of speech not being intelligible to the pupils; the teacher should therefore choose her words carefully. Technical terms may be taught, but this is not advised in Junior classes, unless really necessary. If the facts are intelligently related to the experiences of the pupils, that is all that is desired. Temperatures, as indicated by Fahrenheit thermometers, have always been given, as this scale is best known in the home. Since this Manual is designed for teachers, few recipes have been furnished. The books of reference which are appended will supply these and additional information on the subject. CORRELATION WITH OTHER SCHOOL SUBJECTS One of the benefits of placing Household Management in a Course of Study is that it relates the knowledge gained in school to the home life. The Household Management teacher has great opportunity for this correlation. She should be more than a teacher of household duties. She should lead the pupils to see the importance and necessity of mastering the other school subjects. Wherever interest in these subjects has already been established, this interest will form a basis for development in many Household Management lessons. Then, too, the teachers of other subjects should, as far as possible, work with the Household Management teacher in relating their instruction to the operations and requirements in the home. If the teachers co-operate in planning their lessons, the pupils will receive a deeper impression of the facts learned in each subject and will have an increased interest in the work, through seeing how one branch of knowledge is related to another. The following will show how some of the subjects are related to the class work of Household Management: Arithmetic.--This subject is used in household accounts, in measurements, in the division of recipes, and in computing the cost of foods prepared for the table. Reading.--The pupils should be asked to read aloud the recipes and their notes and should be required to do this distinctly and accurately. Spelling, Writing, Language Work.--In writing recipes and notes, in stories of household topics, and in written answers, the teacher should insist on neat writing, correct spelling, and good English. Geography.--The study of materials for food, clothing, and house furnishings brings before the mind our commercial relations with foreign countries and the occupations of their inhabitants. It also suggests consideration of climate and soils. History.--The evolution of furniture and utensils, of methods of housekeeping, and of preparing and serving food, brings out historical facts. Elementary Science.--Throughout the Course, this subject is the foundation of much of the instruction given, as it explains the principles underlying household industries. Soap-making, bread-making, preservation of food, and the processes of cooking and cleaning are examples of this. Some knowledge of elementary science is also necessary to an understanding of the construction and practical working of the kitchen stove, the fireless cooker, the cream separator, and many household appliances. Its principles determine the methods of heating, lighting, and ventilating. Physiology and Hygiene.--The study of food and the planning and preparation of meals should include a knowledge of the body and its requirements. The sanitary care of the house and its premises is directly related to hygiene. Nature Study.--Animals and plants furnish us with most of our food, and familiarity with these is necessary to the housekeeper. A knowledge of the structure of animals is essential in studying the cuts of meat; the structure of plants and the functions of their different parts give a key to the value of vegetable food. Physical Training.--The class should be carefully trained throughout in correct muscular movements. The position of the body should be closely watched in working and in sitting, and the classes should enter and leave the room in systematic order. Manual Training.--The practical part of housekeeping demands constant use of the hands. The teacher should be watchful of awkward handling of materials and utensils and be careful to correct it. She should require deft, natural movements until they become habits. Art.--Ideas of colour and design should be applied in choosing wall-papers, carpets, dishes, furniture, and clothing. The pupils might be asked to make original coloured designs for these household articles. ROOMS It is most desirable to have Household Management include all home operations and, to make this possible, more than one room should be provided. Many school boards, however, in introducing the work, find that one room is all that can be afforded. Where this is the case, it is necessary that this room be equipped as a kitchen, though it must be used for other purposes as well. It will serve also for table-setting and serving, for simple laundry work, for lessons in home-nursing, and for sewing. [Illustration: A Household Management class at work] This kitchen should be large and airy, so that the class can work comfortably and conveniently. A room having greater length than width admits of the best arrangement. On account of the odours that arise from cooking and other domestic operations, the kitchen should be on the top floor and should have more adequate means of ventilation than ordinary class-rooms. A north exposure makes it cooler in summer. [Illustration: Opposite end of Household Management class-room, showing the black-board and class cupboard] EQUIPMENT In planning an equipment, one must be guided by the conditions to be met. It is difficult to be definite in details, but certain general principles should be observed. The entire equipment should be suited to the needs of the pupils, and it should also be one which it is desirable and possible for them to have in their own homes. [Illustration: A Household Management class-room, showing tables, sinks, and stoves] The walls and floor should be washable, and they, as well as the furniture, should have plain, smooth surfaces which do not catch dust and are easily cleaned. The sinks, stoves, tables, and cupboards should be placed so as to save steps. TABLES Where economy is necessary, movable tables may be used, but the fixed ones are to be preferred. The latter may be placed in the form of a hollow square or an oval, with openings from opposite sides to give convenient access to a centre table, which can be used for supplies or as a dining table. [Illustration: Section of a table designed for two pupils] Drawers and cupboards to hold the necessary utensils and supplies should be provided in the tables for each pupil. Provision may also be made under the table top for desk boards, which may be pulled out when notes are written, in order to allow the pupils to sit comfortably in front of the cupboards. The table top should be of hard wood or some non-absorbent material, jointed in narrow strips in order to prevent warping. Part of this must be protected by a metal or glass strip on which to set the individual stoves or hot dishes. [Illustration: Contents of a table cupboard equipped for two pupils] A working drawing and design of the tables used in the Normal Schools may be obtained from the Department of Education, Toronto. [Illustration: Contents of an individual utensil drawer] [Illustration: Contents of an individual supply drawer] SEATS The seats may be swing seats, stools, or chairs. The swing seats are noiseless and easily put out of the way, but are uncomfortable and unsteady, so that the pupils are inclined to prop themselves by placing their elbows on the table. The stools and chairs are noisy and occupy a great deal of room, but the latter are restful and conducive to the correct position of the pupils, the importance of which cannot be over-estimated. The former are inexpensive, if made with a plain, wooden top. Both should admit of being pushed under the table, and for this reason the chairs should have folding backs. The legs should be tipped with rubber in order to minimize the noise. [Illustration: A class towel rack] RACKS Towel racks should be placed near the sinks and, if possible, should allow space for hanging the towels without folding. In some tables a towel rack may be attached to one of the sides. SINKS A sink at each corner of the room saves much time and inconveniences in the work. Each of these should be provided with hot and cold water. They may be made of porcelain or of enamelled iron. [Illustration: A class gas range, showing high ovens] CLASS CUPBOARD A large class cupboard in two sections, having glass doors in the upper part to show the class china and glass, should be placed where it will be most convenient and add to the attractiveness of the room. This cupboard will hold the dinner set and extra dishes and utensils, as well as the linen and some staple food supplies. A refrigerator is desirable for such foods as butter, eggs, meat, etc. [Illustration: A class cupboard] STOVES [Illustration: Individual table stoves (_a_) a gas stove (_b_) an electric stove (_c_) a blue-flame kerosene stove (_d_) an ordinary kerosene stove] The stoves provided will depend on the fuel that is available in the neighbourhood. Wood is still in use in some rural sections, while coal is the ordinary fuel in small towns and villages. Where either of these fuels is commonly used, there should be two ranges. One should be for coal or wood, to teach the use of the home fuel, and the other an oil, gas, or electric stove, to demonstrate the time and labour saved the housekeeper by the use of one of these. If possible, the stoves should have high ovens, to obviate the necessity of stooping. A section of glass in the oven door is a great convenience, as it allows the contents of the oven to be easily watched. For individual work small table stoves are required. These may be supplied with oil, alcohol, gas, or electricity, as may be most readily obtained. These stoves may be arranged so that they can be swung from the table when not in use. In this way more room is provided for work, and the table is more easily cleaned. The tops of the stoves should be wide and flat, so that cooking dishes will not easily upset. A fireless cooker, though not really necessary, is most helpful. Where funds are lacking, one may be made by the pupils at small expense. A barrel, wooden box, or large pail may be filled with hay or excelsior, and small, covered, granite pails may be used to contain the food. BLACK-BOARDS The black-boards should be of slate or glass, and as large as the size of the room allows. The windows and doors should be so placed that there will be unbroken stretches of wall for this purpose. Part of the black-board should be provided with a sliding board which, when required, can be drawn to conceal what is written. A separate black-board for current prices of common food materials is an excellent idea. The responsibility of keeping these prices correct should be given to the pupils. ILLUSTRATIVE MATERIAL A cabinet, or display case, for illustrative material, is of great educational value and, to the pupils, is one of the most attractive features of the room. The following list of specimens is suggestive for this: [Illustration: A display cabinet--canned fruit] 1. Standard china, such as Crown Derby, Wedgewood, Limoges, Dresden, Beleek, etc. 2. Standard carpet, such as Axminster, Wilton, Brussels, Tapestry 3. Woods used for furniture and building 4. Food materials in various stages of preparation, such as sugar, spices, cereals, tea, coffee, cocoa 5. Fruit canned by the pupils 6. Designs for wall-paper, linoleum, dishes, etc., made by the pupils. Other illustrative material in the form of charts showing the comparative values of the common foods, or illustrating cuts of meat or different kinds of vegetables and fish, will be found to aid greatly in making the teaching effective. There are few of these to be obtained, but home-made ones may be prepared from cuts in bulletins and magazines. Pictures illustrating the production and manufacture of food may also be mounted and used. BOOK-CASE Book shelves should be provided, where a small library of books bearing on the various phases of the subject may be kept, together with the Government Bulletins and some well-chosen periodicals and magazines. These may be selected from the _Catalogue of Books_ which has been prepared by the Department of Education. UTENSILS In regard to the selection of small articles required, such as dishes and utensils of various kinds, the greatest care should be exercised. This part of the equipment can be exactly duplicated by the pupils in their homes, and in this way may be of educational value to the community. The cooking and serving dishes should combine quality, utility, and beauty. It is not economy to buy cheap utensils. As far as possible, they should be chosen with smooth, curved surfaces, as seams and angles allow lodging places for food and make the cleaning difficult. Everything should be of good quality, the latest of its kind that has been approved, and, at the same time, have a shape and colour that is artistic. It is wise to buy from stock which can be duplicated if breakages occur, so that the equipment may be kept uniform. For individual work the utensils should not be too large. Coloured granite ware is best for most of the cooking dishes. Where tin is necessary, it should be of a good quality. Crockery is desirable for some bowls, jars, and serving dishes. Spoons and serving forks should be of Nevada silver, and knives of the best steel with well-made wooden handles. The cost of this part of the equipment and the number of articles purchased must of course depend on the funds available. The following list is intended to give what is really desirable in a specially equipped room, at prices which are a fair average. EQUIPMENT FOR TWENTY-FOUR PUPILS I. CLASS TABLE 1. UTENSIL DRAWER: 24 plates, enamel, 9 inch $0.70 14 " white crockery, 7 inch .80 24 bowls white crockery, 7 inch 3.60 24 " " " 5 1/2 inch 1.20 24 enamel bowls, 6 inch 2.40 24 popover cups 1.80 24 bakers, crockery (oval) 1.20 24 platters, " (small) 1.50 24 sieves (wire bowl) 1.30 24 spoons, wooden 1.92 24 spatulas, wire handle 7.20 24 knives, paring 2.00 24 forks, Nevada silver 2.50 24 spoons, table, Nevada silver 2.50 48 spoons, tea, " " 1.20 24 cups, measuring, tin 2.40 2. SUPPLY DRAWER: 12 boxes (for flour), tin 10.00 12 " (for sugar), " 7.50 12 cheese jars (for salt) .68 24 shakers, glass 2.40 24 bread tins 4.32 24 biscuit cutters .72 13 safety match-box holders 1.62 3. SUPPLY CUPBOARD: 12 double boilers 5.76 24 stew pans, tin cover, wooden knob 4.56 24 frying-pans 1.20 24 saucepans 2.16 12 knife-boards 1.80 12 meat boards 3.00 6 scrub basins 1.50 12 dish pans 6.00 12 rinsing pans 3.00 12 draining pans 3.00 6 tea-kettles 3.00 12 scrub-brushes 2.00 12 vegetable brushes .30 12 soap dishes .75 12 garbage crocks .96 24 asbestos mats 1.10 II. SINK AND WALLS 1 garbage pail, galvanized iron 1.00 1 waste-paper basket, willow (large) .75 1 soap dish .11 1 brush, hand .03 1 brush, scrub .17 2 basins, hand, enamel .40 2 basins, scrub, enamel .50 1 dish pan .70 1 crock for washing soda .30 2 towel racks 1.50 1 clock 5.50 12 tablets for housekeeping rules .70 III. GENERAL CUPBOARD EQUIPMENT 2 kettles, granite 1.50 1 tea-kettle, granite .85 1 saucepan .28 1 saucepan .35 5 covers, tin .25 1 pie pan .10 1 coffee-pot .32 6 saucepans, 1 qt. size, white enamel 1.08 1 double boiler .59 6 covers, tin .30 1 soup ladle, enamel .09 2 pudding dishes, white enamel .40 12 strainers and mashers 1.80 1 kneading pan .85 3 steamers .67 10 graters 1.00 2 vegetable baskets .30 6 potato mashers .48 4 muffin pans .60 24 patty-pans .20 12 Dover egg beaters 1.20 1 spice box .50 1 japanned tray .25 24 wire toasters 2.40 1 egg spade .15 1 scale 3.10 1 freezer 3.00 1 cast-iron frying-pan .40 1 dripping pan .25 2 roasting pans .60 1 quart measure, granite .60 1 pint measure, " .45 1 funnel, tin .05 4 baking sheets 7" × 17" .92 6 " " 10" × 10" 1.08 24 cups and saucers 1.30 24 tumblers 1.50 6 platters .36 6 plates .34 6 pitchers, 1 1/2 pt. 1.00 3 brown bowls, 2 qt. .75 2 brown bowls .25 nest of mixing bowls 1.00 6 glass measuring cups .60 6 glass lemon reamers .60 6 tea-pots (pint) 1.50 1 covered crock .25 1 doz. 1 qt. fruit jars .65 1 " 2 qt. " " .75 1 " 1 pt. " " .55 1 meat chopper 3.10 1 bread knife .25 1 bread board .25 2 knives, French .85 2 spoons, granite .21 1 fork, large wooden handle .15 2 can openers .20 1 corkscrew .25 1 bunch skewers .15 1 brush, pastry .05 1 knife sharpener .25 3 graters, nutmeg .09 1 box toothpicks .05 1 pad tissue paper .05 3 scissors 1.25 1 doz. jelly glasses .35 1 cream and sugar .30 24 rolling-pins 3.00 1 butter spade .15 1 file and catch .65 3 doz. test-tubes .90 1 " thermometers (Dairy) 2.50 2 lamp chimneys .30 1 bell .40 IV. KITCHEN LINEN 36 yards towelling (3 doz. dish towels) 5.40 16 " " (4 doz. wash cloths) 2.40 13 " check towelling (3 doz. dish cloths) 1.60 6 " towelling .75 6 " " (6 meat cloths) .60 1 1/2 " flannelette (oven cloths) .23 12 " cheesecloth .60 1 3/8 " denim (stove apron) .27 2 " flannelette (for polishing silver) .20 chamois .25 V. CLEANING CUPBOARD 1 stove apron .27 1 stove brush .25 1 dauber .10 3 whisk brooms .45 1 dust-pan .20 1 pair stove mitts .30 1 broom .45 VI. LAUNDRY EQUIPMENT 14 pony wash-boards 1.75 6 doz. clothes-pins .10 1 clothes-line .25 VII. DINING-ROOM EQUIPMENT 1. China and Glass: 1 flower vase .25 1 dinner set, Limoges china 15.50 1 doz. water glasses .80 1 glass fruit set 1.50 2. Silver and Steel: 2 doz. teaspoons 4.20 1 " dessert spoons 4.00 1/2 " tablespoons 1.15 1 " dessert knives 4.50 1 " dessert forks 4.50 1 " dinner knives 4.50 1 " dinner forks 4.50 1 carving set 2.00 1 butter pick .20 3. Linen, etc.: 1 silence cloth 1.50 1 4 yd. table-cloth 5.40 1 doz. napkins 2.75 1 centre-piece .40 2 doylies .50 2 tray cloths 1.00 VIII. MISCELLANEOUS 1 "First Aid" cabinet 10.00 1 fire blanket 2.00 EQUIPMENT FOR ORDINARY CLASS-ROOMS In some schools it is impossible to set aside a special room for Household Management work, and the ordinary class-room is all that is available. In such cases the equipment must be a movable one, and gas stoves and plumbing are impossible. Table tops may be placed on trestles or laid across the ordinary desks, and oil or alcohol lamps must be used. These and the necessary utensils may be kept in a cupboard in the room. With certain restrictions, the Department of Education assists in equipping special rooms in villages and rural districts and also in maintaining instruction in this subject. [Illustration: Modified equipment for rural schools] The classes in these schools are usually smaller, so that an outfit suitable for individual work with a class of twelve will generally suffice. The following, suggested by the Macdonald Institute, Guelph, is a good basis and may be modified as desired: 12 bowls, brown $0.85 12 bread tins .95 12 tea cups and saucers 1.25 12 tin measuring cups 1.25 12 egg beaters .30 12 forks .40 12 case knives 1.25 12 paring knives 1.25 12 plates .85 12 saucepans 1.68 12 tablespoons .50 24 teaspoons .40 12 wooden spoons .60 12 stew pans 2.40 12 strainers .65 2 trays .80 1 bowl, yellow .25 1 " " .35 1 " " .45 3 scissors 1.50 5 trestle tables 20.55 6 frying-pans .90 3 tea strainers .15 3 match-box stands .24 1 emery knife .20 3 soap dishes .25 12 pepper shakers 1.50 12 salt shakers 1.50 1 bell .50 4 lemon reamers .40 6 stoves, kerosene 6.00 12 plates, dinner 1.25 6 plates, soup .60 4 jugs .60 1 jug .45 1 butcher knife .30 1 French knife .60 2 spatulas .80 6 teaspoons .10 3 tablespoons .13 4 brushes .20 2 stove mitts .50 4 asbestos mats .20 1 corkscrew .25 4 egg beaters .60 4 wash basins .92 3 draining pans .69 4 dish pans 2.00 6 broilers .48 3 cake tins .35 4 graters .40 3 strainers .75 24 patty pans .20 2 tin dippers .40 2 fibre pails .70 1 colander .35 1 pail, enamel .70 1 pan, enamel .18 3 tea-kettles 2.70 1 saucepan .30 1 saucepan .25 1 saucepan .23 1 saucepan .30 1 double boiler .85 1 kettle, covered .60 [A]1 stove to burn coal or wood 30.00 -------- Total $100.05 FOOTNOTE: [A] The above may be replaced by a twenty-dollar wood stove or a ten-dollar, two burner, coal-oil stove. PACKING-BOX EQUIPMENT When even the expense of the modified equipment is too great, the ingenuity of the teacher and the pupils may be used to provide a "packing-box" equipment suitable for six pupils. The outlay for this will vary according to what is provided, but it can in no case be large. The following equipment used by the Department of Domestic Science, Teachers' College, Columbia University, will be suggestive: [Illustration: Packing-box equipment] FOR CLASS 3 bread boards $0.15 1 rolling-pin .05 3 baking-powder can tops, for cookie cutters .. 1 flour sifter .10 1 large frying-pan .25 1 double boiler .50 1 quart kettle .25 1 tea-kettle .50 1 broiler .20 1 garbage can .25 2 pitchers .25 2 apple corers .10 1 chopping knife .10 1 chopping bowl .05 6 muffin tins .12 2 layer-cake tins .10 3 dish pans .45 3 rinsing pans .30 1 strainer .05 6 china plates .30 3 mixing bowls .30 6 sauce dishes .15 6 cups and saucers .30 1 coffee-pot .25 1 tea-pot .10 3 bread pans .15 6 quart jars .30 3 wooden pails with covers .30 6 dish towels .48 3 dish cloths .15 3 hand towels .15 1 broom .30 1 dust-pan .08 1 scrubbing-brush .10 1 scrubbing pail .20 1 Dover egg beater .09 1 pepper shaker .05 1 salt shaker .05 1 baking dish .10 1 bread knife .25 1 corkscrew .10 ----- Total $8.02 1 packing-box table 1.00 1 packing-box cupboard .50 Large blue-flame oil stove $10.00 INDIVIDUAL EQUIPMENT FOR SIX PUPILS 1 white bowl, 1 qt. $0.07 1 measuring cup .05 1 granite plate .10 1 saucepan .05 1 tin cover .05 1 steel fork .10 1 steel knife .10 1 tablespoon .03 2 teaspoons .05 ----- Total .60 1 oil stove .75 1 asbestos mat .05 CHAPTER II SUGGESTIONS FOR CLASS MANAGEMENT TEACHERS' PREPARATION In no subject is careful planning of the details of the lesson more important than in Household Management. The definite length of the period allowed in the school programme for this work makes economy of time absolutely necessary. The cooking processes cannot be hurried, and unless there is in the teacher's mind a well-arranged plan for the use of the time, a part of the lesson is apt to be hastily and carelessly done. Then, too, in the limited space of one room, a number of people cannot work without confusion unless there is system. The pupils enjoy a well-regulated lesson and their co-operation is gained, while, through the poor results of a lesson indifferently planned, they lose self-confidence and the sense of responsibility. NUMBER IN THE CLASS As a Household Management class is one that calls for individual supervision, the number should not exceed twenty-four, and a smaller class ensures more thorough supervision on the part of the teacher. Neatness, thoroughness, and accuracy are important factors in the work of each lesson, and the number of pupils should not be so large that a lack of these will pass unnoticed. UNIFORMS, ETC. The uniform consists of a large, plain, white apron with a bib large enough to protect the dress, a pair of sleevelets, a holder, a small towel for personal use, and a white muslin cap to confine the hair. (See Frontispiece.) Each pupil will also require a note-book and pencil for class, and a note-book to be used at home for re-copying the class work in ink. These books should be neatly written and kept for reference, and should be regularly examined and marked by the teacher for correction by the pupils. The pupils should be encouraged to be clean and neat in appearance. They should be expected to have tidy hair, clean hands and nails, and neat uniforms. It is a good plan for each pupil to have two sets of uniforms, so that when one is in the wash the other will be ready to use. It may be wise to make a rule that the pupils without uniforms will not be allowed to work, but such a rule must be judiciously enforced, as in some cases it might result in much loss of time. There should be lockers or other proper provision provided at the school for keeping each uniform separately. Pasteboard boxes may be used for this purpose, when no such provision is made. DISCIPLINE The pupils should be trained to enter and leave the room in the same order as in their other classes. Each pupil should have a definite working place and should not be allowed to "visit" others during the class. While at work, it is wise to allow the pupils as much freedom in talking and movement as possible, so as to portray the home life. They should be taught, however, that when their conduct interferes with the order of the room or the comforts and rights of others, they must suppress their inclinations. During the time of teaching there must be perfect quiet and attention. Marks are sometimes given to secure punctuality and good work, but the best way to have both is to try to make each member of the class interested and happy in her work. DIVISION OF THE PERIODS The time given to a practical lesson is usually one and a half hours. This must include both the theoretical and the practical work. In dividing the period, it is difficult to say how much time should be given to each of these, but, broadly speaking, the theoretical part may occupy one third of the time. The time for dish washing and cleaning will be included in the time allowance for practical work. These duties should require less time as the class advances in the work. Notes should be copied at the most convenient time, usually while the food is cooking. Sitting to write notes will afford an opportunity for resting after any practical work. If printed cards are used, much of the note-taking is obviated. A sample card is given below. HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT JUNIOR FOURTH CARD VEGETABLE WATER SAUCE 1 c. veg. water 2 tbsp. flour pepper 2 tbsp. butter 1/4 tsp. salt 1. Put the vegetable water over a gentle heat. 2. Mix the flour with a little cold water until smooth and thick as cream. 3. When the vegetable water is steaming hot, gradually stir the flour paste into it and keep stirring until it thickens and boils. 4. Add the butter, salt, and pepper. 5. Pour the sauce over the hot vegetable. ASSIGNMENT OF WORK For practical work there are two plans in general use--individual and group work. In individual work, each pupil performs all the processes, handling small quantities of material. In group work, the pupils work in groups on one dish, each sharing the duties. By the first method, the pupil has no chance to deal with quantities large enough for family purposes, and the small amount does not give adequate practice in manipulation, though it does give individual responsibility in every detail. By the second method, normal quantities are used, but a pupil never has entire responsibility throughout the processes. The cost of supplies is often accountable for group work, but lack of utensils or oven room may make it a necessity. In some lessons, individual work with normal quantities may be obtained by allowing the pupils to bring the main ingredients from home; for example, fruit for a canning lesson. The finished product is then the property of the pupil who has made it. The cleaning which always follows the use of the equipment is preferably done in groups. For instance, if there are groups of fours, number one can, during a lesson, wash all dishes used by the four, number two can wipe the dishes, number three can clean the table used by the group, and number four can clean the sink. During the next lesson number two is dish washer, and number three dish wiper, and so on, until, in four lessons, each pupil has had practice in four kinds of household work and has also been given an idea of the inter-dependence of family life and interests. The same numbers should be kept during the term, as this affords an easy way of definitely designating the pupils for certain duties. SUPPLIES The supplies for a lesson may be put on a centre table, or smaller amounts may be placed on the working tables in front of the groups. If the class is large, the latter plan is better, especially where measurements are necessary, as it saves time and confusion. Standard food supplies, such as salt, pepper, sugar, and flour may be kept in a drawer of the work-table of each pupil. (See page 15.) Every member of the class should be familiar with the contents of the class pantry, cupboards, and drawers, so that she can get or put away utensils and materials without the help of the teacher. If breakages occur through carelessness, the utensils should be replaced at the expense of the offender. This is not only a deserved punishment, but it always ensures a full equipment. PRACTICE WORK AT HOME As a lesson in Household Management comes but once a week, much is gained by having the work reviewed by practice at home. To encourage this, in some schools a "practice sheet" is posted, on which the work done by each pupil, between lessons, is recorded. There is a danger of the younger pupils attempting work that is too difficult, which will end in poor results and discouragement. To avoid this, with pupils in the Third Form, it may be wise to limit their practice in cookery to a review of the work done in class. The home practice work may be taken at the beginning of a lesson or during the time the food is cooking. It may be quickly ascertained by the pupils rising in order and stating simply the name of the duty they have done or the dish they have made unless they have had poor results, when the nature of these should be told. If there have been failures, the pupils should, if possible, give reasons for these and suggest means of avoiding them in future. GENERAL SUGGESTIONS 1. The teacher should endeavour to plan lessons which will be definitely related to the home lives of the pupils. What is useful for one class may not be useful for another. The connection between the lessons and the home should be very real. It is also important to have a sequence in the lessons. 2. Great care should be exercised in criticising any of the home methods that are suggested by the pupils. A girl's faith in her mother should not be lessened. 3. The work should be taken up in a very simple manner; scientific presentation should be left for the high school. 4. Economy should be emphasized in all home duties; time, labour, and money should be used to give the best possible returns. Wholesome substitutes for expensive foods and attractive preparation and serving of left-over foods should be encouraged. 5. Too much vigilance cannot be exercised during the first year of practical work, when habits are being formed. It is much easier to form habits than to break away from them. 6. While nothing less than the best work should be accepted from the pupils, it requires much discernment to know when fault should be found, in order to avoid saying or doing anything that would discourage them. 7. As Household Management is a manual subject, the teacher is advised, as far as possible, not to spend time in talking about the work, but to have the class spend their time in doing the work. SUGGESTIONS FOR SCHOOLS WITH LIMITED, OR NO EQUIPMENT In schools where the ordinary class-room must be used for all subjects, there are unusual difficulties in teaching Household Management. For such schools, two modified equipments are outlined. Since such class-rooms require special arrangement for practical lessons in this subject, it would be well to take this work in the afternoon, so that part of the noon hour may be taken for preparation. Pupils who have earned the right to responsibility may be appointed in turn to assist in this duty. In rural schools, the afternoon recess might be taken from 2.15 to 2.30 and, during this time, tables, stoves, and supplies may be placed, so as to be ready for the lesson to follow in the remaining hour and a half. For pupils who are not in the Household Management class, definite work should be planned. They may occupy themselves with manual training, sewing, art work, map-drawing, composition, etc. In summer, school gardening may be done. Since the end of the week, in many schools, is chosen for a break in the usual routine, Friday afternoon seems a suitable time for Household Management lessons. Under such limited conditions, it will be necessary to group the larger pupils into one class for practical work, and it may be necessary for the pupils to take turns in working. In some cases, the teacher must demonstrate what the class may practise at home. It will be impossible, in such schools, to cover the prescribed work. From the topics suggested in the Course of Study each teacher may arrange a programme by selecting what is most useful to the pupils and what is possible in the school. Even in schools which have no equipment, much of the theory of Household Management can be taught and some experiments may be performed. On Friday afternoons a regular period may be devoted to this subject, when the ingenious teacher will find ways and means of teaching many useful lessons. * * * * * The following will be suggestive as suitable for lessons under such conditions: 1. Any of the lessons prescribed in the Course of Study for Form III, Junior. 2. Measuring.--Table of measures used in cookery, methods of measuring, equivalent measures and weights of standard foods. 3. Cleaning.--Principles, methods, agents. 4. Water.--Uses in the home, appearance under heat, highest temperature, ways of using cooking water. 5. Cooking.--Reasons for cooking, kinds of heat used, common methods of conducting heat to food, comparison of methods of cooking as to time required and effect of heat on food. NOTE.--An alcohol stove, saucepan, and thermometer are necessary for this lesson. 6. The kitchen fire.--Experiments to show necessities of a fire, construction of a practical cooking stove. 7. Food.--Uses, kinds, common sources. 8. Preservation of food.--Cause of decay, methods of preservation, application of methods to well-known foods. 9. Yeast.--Description, necessary conditions, sources, use. NOTE.--A few test-tubes and a saucepan are necessary for this lesson. 10. The table.--Laying a table, serving at table, table manners. 11. Care of a bed-room.--Making the bed, ventilating, sweeping, and dusting the room. 12. Sanitation.--Necessity for sanitation, household methods. 13. Laundry work.--Necessary materials, processes. 14. Home-nursing.--The ideal sick-room, care of the patient's bed, and diet. CHAPTER III FORM III: JUNIOR GRADE The pupils of Form III, Junior, are generally too small to use the tables and stoves provided for the other classes and too young to be intrusted with fires, hot water, etc.; but they may be taught the simpler facts of Household Management by the special teacher of the subject, or by the regular teacher in correlation with the other subjects. In either case a special room is not necessary. If the latter plan be adopted, the following correlations are suggested: CORRELATIONS Arithmetic.--1. Bills of household supplies, such as furniture, fuel, meat, groceries, bed and table linen, material for clothing. This will teach the current prices as well as the usual quantities purchased. 2. Making out the daily, weekly, or monthly supply and cost of any one item of food, being given the number in the family and the amount used by each per day. _Example_: One loaf costs 6c. and cuts into 18 slices. Find the cost of bread for two days for a family of six, if each person uses 1 1/2 slices at one meal. 3. Making out the total weekly or monthly expenses of a household, given the items of meat, groceries, fuel, gas, etc. This brings up the question of the cost of living. 4. Making out the total cost of a cake, a loaf of bread, a jar of fruit, or a number of sandwiches, given the cost of the main materials and fuel used. Compare the home cost with the cost at a store. This may be used to teach economy. * * * * * Geography.--1. The sources of our water supply. 2. The geographical sources of our ordinary household materials, their shipping centres, the routes by which they reach us, and the means of transportation. _Examples_: Fuels, common minerals used in building and furnishing; timber for floors and furniture; manufactured goods, such as cotton, linen, carpets, china; domestic and foreign fruits; common groceries, such as salt, sugar, tea, coffee, cocoa, spices, rice, cereals, and flour. 3. The preparation of our common household commodities. _Examples_: Cotton, linen, china, paper, sugar, tea, coffee, cereals, flour. 4. The household products that are exported. * * * * * Nature Study.--1. The parts of plants used as food. 2. The natural sources of our common foods, such as cornstarch, flour, breakfast cereals, tea, coffee, cocoa, sugar, salt, cheese, butter. 3. The sources of common household substances, such as coal-oil, gasolene, paraffin, turpentine, washing soda, whiting, bathbrick, soap. 4. The forms of water, as ice, steam. 5. The composition and impurities of the air. 6. The ordinary woods used in house building and furnishing. Hygiene.--The necessity for the following: 1. Fresh air in the home at all times--in living rooms and sleeping rooms 2. Good food and plenty of sleep 3. Cleanliness of the body 4. Cleanliness in preparing food 5. Cleanliness in the home and surroundings. * * * * * Physical Training.--1. The value of exercise gained by performing household duties. 2. The importance of correct positions in performing home duties, such as dish washing, sewing, etc. 3. The value of conveniences to save steps. * * * * * Composition.--Topics selected from household materials and activities. _Examples_: Food materials, cleansing agents, planning a convenient kitchen or bath-room, sweeping day, baking day, arrangement of a kitchen cupboard or clothes closet, etc. * * * * * Spelling.--Names of household articles and duties as follows: Furniture of a special room, such as kitchen or sitting-room, kitchen utensils, contents of a kitchen cupboard, dishes and food used at a particular meal, etc. Manual Training.--Construction of household furnishings and utensils for a doll's house from raffia, paper, and plasticine. Art.--Designing and colouring carpets, curtains, wall-papers, book covers, dishes, tiles, ribbons, and dress materials. Sewing.--Making the uniform for Household Management work. If the Household Management teacher takes the work with this class, she should follow the outline of work given in the Course of Study. This outline will make the pupils familiar with the common household materials as to their sources, preparation, and cost, and when, in the next class, they deal with these materials, they will do so with more interest and intelligence. It will also draw attention to the importance of economy in time and energy. The convenience of a kitchen and the use of proper utensils to facilitate labour will impress this fact. The lessons should be taught simply as information lessons and should be of the same length as the other studies--from thirty to forty minutes. If the usual hour and a half period be set aside for this class, the remainder of the time may be devoted to sewing. CHAPTER IV FORM III: SENIOR GRADE LESSON I SCOPE OF HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT In introducing the practical side of Household Management to a class, it is an advantage to let them have a general idea of what the subject includes. They will then work with more intelligence and usually with more interest. Then, too, the prevalent idea that the subject means only cooking will be corrected from the first. Throughout the introduction, the teacher should not forget that she is dealing with immature minds and that the ideas must be very simply expressed. She might ask what the pupils expect to learn in this class, have them name other subjects they study in school, and in each case lead up to the _one_ thing of which a particular subject treats; for example, arithmetic treats of _numbers_; geography, of the _world_; history, of _past events_. She should lead the class to see that the one thing of which Household Management treats is the _home_; and that the two great requirements for a home are the _house_, and the people who live in it, or the _occupants_. To get the details relating to each of these two divisions, let the pupils imagine they are boarding in some locality where they decide to make a home for themselves. The first thing to be done is to choose a building lot. Then they must decide upon the kind of house they want and the plan of the house. After the house is built, it must be furnished. When the house is ready, it must be cleaned and kept clean. As soon as the family move in, new considerations arise--they must have food, which must be bought, prepared, and served; each member of the family must be clothed and educated; they must receive proper care when sick. Only a few minutes should be spent on this introductory talk. While the class is naturally led to think of and name these details, they should be written on the black-board in the order of development, somewhat as follows: 1. Household Management teaches us about the _home_. 2. A home includes two main ideas: (1) A house, (2) a family. 3. In connection with a _house_ we must consider: (1) The lot, (2) the plan, (3) the furnishing, (4) the cleaning. 4. In connection with a _family_ we must consider: (1) Food (buying, cooking, serving), (2) clothing (buying, sewing, mending), (3) education, (4) home nursing. Tell the pupils that a housekeeper should be informed on all of these points, but little girls can expect to study only a few of them, such as questions of food, clothing, and cleaning. SURVEY OF EQUIPMENT, UNIFORM, ETC. Equipment.--Most of the time of the first lesson should be used in making the pupils acquainted with their surroundings and individual necessities, so that they will be ready for work the next day. Give each member of the class a definite working place, and let her examine the contents of the cupboard and drawers which belong to her place. Explain that the particular places which the pupils are given will be kept throughout the year, and that, while they have the privilege of using and enjoying them, they are responsible for their cleanliness and order. Point out the remainder of the equipment--hot and cold water-taps, towel racks, class cupboard with its contents, refrigerator, large and individual stoves. Teach each pupil how to light her stove and regulate its heat. Uniforms, etc.--Tell the pupils that you have shown them what has been provided for them, but you want them also to provide some things for themselves. It will be necessary for them to bring a large, plain, white apron, having a bib large enough to protect the dress; a pair of sleevelets; a holder; a small towel for personal use; and a white muslin cap to confine the hair while working. They will also need a note-book and pencil for class, and a note-book to be used at home for re-copying the class work in ink. The latter book is to be very neatly written and kept for reference after it has been examined by the teacher. LESSON II USE OF EQUIPMENT The little girls who make up the classes are not so far removed from their "playhouse" days that a survey of the dishes, stoves, and tables will not give them an eager desire to begin using them. This desire should be gratified, but as the use always necessitates the cleaning as well, it may be advisable at first to make use of the equipment only for the purpose of showing proper methods of cleaning. A short lesson on cleaning may be given in a few minutes, and the rest of the period spent in putting it into practice. The teacher may proceed somewhat as follows in the development of a lesson on cleaning: DEVELOPMENT OF A LESSON ON CLEANING MEANING OF CLEANING Take two dishes--plates or saucers--exactly alike. Have one clean and the other soiled with butter or some well-known substance. Ask the class the difference between them. One is clean and one dirty. What substance is on one that hinders your saying it is clean? Butter. What else could be on it? Jam. What else? Dust. What else? Gravy. Now instead of telling the name of the particular substance in each case, let us try to find one name that will apply to all of the substances which, as you say, make the dish dirty. Let us give these substances a name which will show that they do not belong to the plate. We may call each of them a foreign substance. And if I take the substance off the plate what am I doing to the plate? Cleaning it. Then what is cleaning? Cleaning is removing a foreign substance. METHODS OF CLEANING 1. _Scraping or rubbing away the foreign substance:_ What would you use to remove the butter from the plate? A piece of paper or a knife. What are you doing with the knife or paper? Scraping or rubbing off the foreign substance. Then how was it removed? It was removed by scraping or rubbing. Suppose some one has sharpened a pencil and let the pieces fall on the floor, what would you take to remove the foreign substance from the floor? A broom. What would you say you are doing with the broom? Sweeping. How does the movement of the broom over the floor compare with the movement of the knife over the plate? It is similar. What would you take to remove the dust from the window-sill? A duster. What would you say you are doing? Dusting. How does the movement of the duster compare with the movement of the knife and the broom? It is similar. In all of these cases of dish, floor, and sill, how did we remove the foreign substance? We scraped or rubbed it off. Name one way of removing a foreign substance. Scraping or rubbing it away. 2. _Dissolving the foreign substance and then scraping it away:_ Show a much soiled towel and ask what is usually done to clean it. It is washed. Ask the pupils to tell just what they mean by that. The towel is put in water and soap used on it. What effect will the soap and water have on the foreign substance? They will soften or dissolve it. Then what must be done next? The towel must be rubbed on a board or with the hands. What effect has this operation on the foreign substance? It scrapes or rubs the foreign substance away. Then we have another way of cleaning: By first dissolving the foreign substance, and then scraping or rubbing it away. A number of well-known cleaning operations may then be given, and the pupils asked in each case to decide the method used--such as, whisking a coat, scrubbing a table, cleaning the teeth, or washing dishes. COMMON HOUSEHOLD CLEANSING AGENTS Next, get lists of the common cleansing agents found in an ordinary home, and arrange them in order of coarseness. BLACK-BOARD OUTLINE The black-board scheme, as the lesson develops, will appear as follows: 1. _Meaning of Cleaning:_ Cleaning is removing any foreign substance. 2. _Methods of Cleaning:_ (1) Scraping or rubbing away the foreign substance. (2) Dissolving the foreign substance and then scraping or rubbing it away. 3. _Household cleansing agents used in the first method:_ (1) Duster (2) Brush (3) Broom (4) Washboard (5) Knife (6) Whiting (7) Bathbrick (8) Coarse salt (9) Sand (10) Ashes. 4. _Household cleansing agents used in the second method:_ (1) Water (2) Hot water (3) Soap (4) Lux (5) Ammonia (6) Borax (7) Washing soda (8) Coal-oil (9) Gasolene (10) Acids (11) Lye. 5. _Combination cleansing agents:_ (1) Bon Ami, (2) Dutch Cleanser, (3) Sapolio. When the class have these ideas, they are ready to put them into practice, and the remainder of the lesson should be spent in practical work. If the pupils have soiled no dishes, it may be wise to drill them first in table washing or towel washing, so as to get them ready for the next lesson when tables and towels will be used. LESSONS III, IV, ETC. Gradually, in connection with the making of simple dishes, the pupils should be taught special methods of dish washing, sink cleaning, and dusting. Each day as they are appointed to different duties in cleaning, these methods should be strictly followed until they become well known. While they are still new to the class, it will be a great help to have outlines of the kinds of cleaning which are necessary in every lesson posted conveniently in different parts of the room for reference. These outlines may be as follows: DISH WASHING Preparation for washing: 1. Put away the food. 2. Scrape and pile the dishes. 3. Put the dishes that need it to soak. 4. Place soap, pans, brushes, and towels. 5. Put water in the pans. (1) Fill the dish pan about half full of warm water, then soap it. (2) Fill the rinsing pan nearly full of hot water. Order of washing: 1. Glass 2. Silver 3. China 4. Crockery 5. Granite ware 6. Tins 7. Pots 8. Steel knives and forks. Finishing after washing: 1. Soap a dish cloth and wash the sides and bottom of the dish pan, before emptying it. 2. Empty the dish pan, rinse at the sink, and half fill with clear, warm water, to rinse the towels. 3. Wash the towels in the rinsing pan, rinse them in the dish pan, shake them straight, fold, and hang. 4. Soap the dish cloth, wash the inside of the rinsing pan, empty, rinse, and wipe with the dish cloth. 5. Wash and wipe the soap dish. 6. Empty the dish pan and wipe with the dish cloth. 7. Pile the pans, place the brushes and soap, and set away. 8. Fold the dish cloth and hang it to dry. TABLE CLEANING (CLASS WORK) 1. If necessary, scrape or brush off the table stoves. 2. Get a scrub cloth, a wash-basin of warm water, and a scrub-brush. 3. Wash the part of the table used by your group, doing the part not occupied by the dish washing first; then get the dish washers to move along, so that you can finish it, proceeding as follows: (1) Wet the table all over. (2) Rub the soap cake over it. (3) Scrub with the wet brush with the grain of the wood. (4) Rinse the soap off with the clear water. (5) Wipe with the cloth wrung dry. 4. Get clear water. Rinse the brush and put it away. Rinse the scrub cloth and wring it dry. 5. Take the basin and cloth to the sink. Empty, rinse the basin, and dry it with the cloth. Rinse the cloth under the tap and wring it dry. 6. Fold and hang the cloth to dry. Bring back a dry cloth and thoroughly dry the aluminium strip. 7. Put away the dry cloth and basin. SINK CLEANING 1. Let the other housekeepers get the water they need. 2. Get a sink pan, a scrub cloth, and a brush. Put warm water in the pan. 3. Scrub the drain board if there be one, as follows: (1) Wet the board all over. (2) Rub the soap cake over it. (3) Scrub with a wet brush with the grain of wood. (4) Rinse the soap off with clear water. (5) Wipe with the cloth wrung dry. 4. Wash the nickel part of the sink (tap and stand) with soap. Wipe with the cloth wrung dry. 5. Wash the outside of the basin of the sink. 6. When the other housekeepers have emptied their water, wash the inside of the sink basin and wipe with the cloth wrung dry. 7. Wash the scrub cloth and pan, rinse the brush, and put all away. 8. Polish the nickel with a dry duster. DUSTING 1. Get a cheesecloth duster. 2. Dust the chairs and put them in place. 3. Dust the table legs and drawer handles. 4. Dust the cupboard and refrigerator. 5. Dust the wood-work, window-sills, ledges, etc. 6. Wash the duster and hang it up to dry. MEASURES AND RECIPES Another preliminary part of the work will be teaching the pupils to measure and follow a recipe. MEASURES The measures used in kitchen work are teaspoon, tablespoon, pint, quart, and gallon, of which a table should be developed as follows: 3 teaspoonfuls (tsp.) 1 tablespoonful (tbsp.) 16 tbsp. 1 cup 2 cups 1 pint (pt.) 2 pt. 1 quart (qt.) 4 qt. 1 gallon (gal.) In connection with this table the following points should be brought out: 1. That all measurements are made level. 2. That in measuring liquids, the measure should be set on a level surface. 3. That to halve the contents of a spoon, the division should be made lengthwise. 4. That to quarter the contents of a spoon, the half should be divided crosswise. 5. That in measuring flour, it should not be shaken down to level it. 6. That in using one measure for both dry and liquid ingredients, the dry should be measured first. 7. That in measuring a cupful of dry ingredients, the cup should be filled by using a spoon or scoop. [Illustration: (_a_) Dividing the contents of a spoon] [Illustration: (_b_) Dividing a spoonful in halves] [Illustration: (_c_) Filling a cup] [Illustration: (_d_) Levelling a cupful] TABLE OF EQUIVALENT MEASURES AND WEIGHTS A table of equivalent measures and weights of some staple foods will also be useful and may be given to the class: 2 cups butter (packed solidly) 1 pound 2 c. granulated sugar 1 " 2 c. rice (about) 1 " 2 c. finely chopped meat 1 " 2 2/3 c. brown sugar 1 " 2 2/3 c. powdered sugar 1 " 2 2/3 c. oatmeal 1 " 2 2/3 c. cornmeal 1 " 4 c. white flour 1 " PLAN OF LESSON ON MEASURING TIME LIMIT One and one-half hours to be divided approximately as follows--one-half hour for teaching the theory, one-half hour for the practical application of the theory, and one-half hour for housekeeping (washing of dishes, tables, sinks, etc., and putting the kitchen in order). PREPARATION 1. Place a set of measures at hand. 2. Place a large bowl of flour on the teacher's table. 3. Place flour and sugar in the boxes of the supply drawers. 4. Place cans of cocoa and jugs of milk on the centre table. DEVELOPMENT 1. Introduction.--What do we take for a guide when cooking? How can we be sure that we use the exact quantities the recipes require? Name some measures that you have learned in arithmetic. In this lesson we are going to learn the measures we require in cooking, also the proper ways of using them. 2. Names of measures.--Show and name the measures, beginning at the smallest: teaspoon, tablespoon, cup, pint, quart, gallon. As the measures are named, place them on the table in order of size. 3. Methods of using measures.--Ask two or three pupils, in turn, to measure a teaspoonful of flour from the bowl on the teacher's table. They will not agree in their measurements, and the necessity for levelling will be shown. What can we use for levelling measures? How can we level liquids? If we need less than a spoonful, how can we measure it? Which part of the spoon is deeper? How shall we divide the spoonful to make both halves equal? How must we divide a spoonful into quarters? Into eighths? Examine and explain the divisions of the cup. To use one measure for both liquid and dry ingredients, which should be measured first? (As these points are obtained, they should be written on the black-board.) 4. Table of measures.--In the tables of measures which you have learned, you state the number of times one measure is contained in the next higher. We shall form a table of the measures learned to-day. By measuring flour from their boxes, let each pupil find how many teaspoonfuls fill a tablespoon. How many tablespoonfuls fill a cup, a half cup, a quarter of a cup. They will state the remainder of the table from memory. Write the table on the black-board and teach the abbreviations. NOTE.--After the lesson on measuring is developed, the class should be given individual work which will put these ideas into practice. A simple recipe may be dictated by the teacher, step by step. Cocoa makes a good recipe for this lesson, as it affords practice in measuring liquids as well as dry ingredients, both powdered and granular. If each girl makes half a cupful of cocoa, it will give practice in dividing the contents of a spoon. PRACTICAL WORK TO APPLY MEASURING Have each pupil make half a cupful of cocoa by carrying out each step as it is dictated by the teacher, as follows: 1. Numbers one put two cups of water in the tea kettle; numbers two light a fire and put the water to boil; numbers three get cocoa from the centre table; numbers four get milk. 2. Set out sugar boxes and open them. 3. Each take a small saucepan, a measuring cup, a teaspoon, a paring-knife, and a small cup. 4. Measure half a teaspoonful of sugar into the saucepan. 5. Measure half a teaspoonful of cocoa into the saucepan. 6. Mix the sugar and cocoa by shaking the saucepan. 7. Measure half of a third of a cupful of boiling water and stir it into the sugar and cocoa. 8. Set the mixture over a gentle fire and stir until it bubbles. Cook for three minutes. 9. Measure half of a third of a cupful of milk. 10. Stir the milk into the mixture and heat it until it is steaming hot, but do not boil it. 11. Serve the cocoa in the small cups. 12. Turn out the fires and put the saucepans to soak. SERVING Each pupil puts her table in order by moving all cooking utensils to the metal part of the table and wiping off any soiled spots on the wooden part; she then sits to drink the cocoa she has made. NOTE-TAKING Notes are copied from the black-board in pencil in the ordinary class note-books. The desk boards under the table tops are pulled out for this purpose. In this lesson the notes consist of: 1. Table of measures, with abbreviations 2. Points in measuring 3. Recipe for cocoa (if there are recipe cards, these should be distributed). HOUSEKEEPING This will be done in groups of fours, according to their previous lessons in cleaning. If necessary, some special cleaning, as dish washing or sink cleaning, may be taught at this point of the lesson: 1. Number one will wash dishes for her group. 2. Number two will wipe dishes for her group. 3. Number three will clean the entire table belonging to her group. 4. Number four will do work outside of her group as appointed, such as dusting, cleaning a sink or the centre table. RECIPE FOR COCOA 1 tsp. sugar 1 tsp. cocoa 1/3 c. boiling water 1/3 c. milk. 1. Mix the sugar and cocoa in a saucepan. 2. Stir the boiling water into the mixture, then set it over a gentle heat. 3. Keep stirring until the mixture bubbles, then boil gently for about three minutes. 4. Stir in the milk and heat it until it steams, but do not boil it. 5. Serve the cocoa hot or ice-cold. RECIPES In connection with a recipe, the pupils should be taught to look for three parts: 1. The name 2. The list and amount of ingredients 3. The method. In carrying out a recipe, they should, from the first, be taught to work in the following systematic order: 1. To attend to the fire if necessary 2. To collect the necessary utensils 3. To collect the necessary ingredients 4. To obey the method. For this lesson, some simple recipe which will review measuring should be clearly written on the black-board--the recipe for apple sauce or cranberry sauce would be suitable. While the pupils are learning obedience in following a recipe, it is better to keep them together in carrying out their work. The method should be written in definite, numbered steps, which may be checked off as each step is accomplished. When the class has had instruction in cleaning, measuring, and recipes, they are ready for a series of lessons involving the use of simple recipes which will put into practice the ideas they have learned. For this practice, such recipes as the following are suggested: Boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes; boiled parsnips; boiled celery; boiled carrots, asparagus, green peas; cranberry sauce; rhubarb sauce; preparing and combining ingredients for salads (fruit salad, potato salad, cabbage and nut salad, Waldorf salad)--the dressing being supplied; stuffed eggs; sandwiches. The carrying out of these lessons will develop in the pupils accuracy and obedience, and make them familiar with the use and care of their utensils, as well as give opportunity for the cleaning of these and other parts of the equipment. During these first lessons, careful supervision should be given each pupil, so that only correct habits may be formed in regard to neatness, thoroughness, quietness, and natural use of muscles. The pupils should be encouraged to begin a book of recipes to contain neatly written copies of all they have used in school. The Art teacher might correlate the work here by assisting them to design a suitable cover for this book. CHAPTER V FORM III: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) COOKERY LESSON I After a number of practice lessons have developed in the pupils a certain ability and self-confidence in working, formal cookery may be introduced, and the following ideas should be brought out: 1. The meaning of cooking: Cooking is the application of sufficient heat to make a change in the food. 2. Reasons for cooking food: (1) To make some food digestible. (2) To change flavours and make some food more appetizing. (3) To preserve food. (4) To kill harmful germs in food. 3. Kinds of heat used: (1) Dry heat--heat, only, is conveyed to the food. (2) Moist heat--heat and moisture are conveyed to the food. 4. Different ways of applying _dry heat_: Toasting, broiling, pan-broiling, sautéing, frying, baking. 5. Different ways of applying _moist heat_: Boiling, simmering, steaming, steeping. NOTE.--If the class cannot name these methods, the teacher may name and write them with only a word of comment regarding each, or they may not be given until the methods are studied. As the moist heat methods are simpler and better known, they should be studied first. The class should be led to see that some liquid must be used to supply the moisture and should account for the common use of water for this purpose. Experiments should then be performed in heating water, and its appearance and temperature should be noted. NOTE.--A preliminary lesson on the use of the thermometer may be necessary to show how to read it, and to develop the idea that it is an instrument for measuring heat. This may be taught in the regular class work, previous to the Household Management lesson. LESSON ON THE THERMOMETER 1. Development of the idea of "measuring": What would you use to measure the length of the table? A foot measure. What to measure the water in a tub? A pint, quart, or gallon measure. What to measure the amount of gas burned? A gas-meter. 2. Development of the name "thermometer": What do we call the instrument For measuring gas? A gas-meter For measuring electricity? An electrometer For measuring speed of a motor? A speedometer (speed-meter) For measuring the distance a bicycle travels? A cyclometer (cycle-meter). In each case what does "meter" mean? It means an instrument for measuring. What name may I give to an instrument for measuring heat? You may call it a heat-meter. Tell the pupils that, in science, many Greek words are used, and that you will put a Greek word in place of the English word "heat", namely "thermos", as in thermos bottle. What will the name become? Thermosmeter, or _thermometer_. 3. Practice in using thermometers: The unit of measurement (_degree_) should be given, and the scale taught from the black-board. Thermometers may then be given to the class to examine and use. Saucepans having white inner surfaces are best to use for the experiments, as changes made by the heat are more plainly seen. _Observations of water under heat:_ (1) At a temperature of about 100 degrees, very small bubbles form at the bottom and sides of the dish and rise slowly to the surface of the water. These bubbles are a film of water containing the air that was in solution, which, when expanded, rises to the top of the water. (2) At a temperature of about 180 degrees, a few larger bubbles form at the bottom of the dish and rise slowly to the surface of the water, making a slight movement in it. In these bubbles air is replaced by steam which is formed from the water by the heat. (3) At a temperature of 212 degrees, a great number of large bubbles form and rise quickly to the surface, making much movement in the water. The water is then said to boil. (4) The water will take no higher temperature than 212 degrees. (5) After water once boils, it requires little heat to keep it at this point, therefore the heat may be reduced. (6) An increase of heat increases the number, size, and rate of the bubbles and the volume of steam, but makes the liquid no hotter. _Application of these observations:_ (1) If food be cooked in a liquid at its greatest heat, where many bubbles are making much movement in it, the process is called _boiling_. (2) If cooked in a liquid heated to 180-200, where there is scarcely any movement in the liquid, the process is called _simmering_. (3) If cooked in the steam rising from a boiling liquid, the process is called _steaming_. (4) If boiling liquid be poured over food and no further heat applied, the process is called _steeping_. LESSONS II, III, IV, ETC. Practice should then be given in each of the moist heat methods of cooking. The common foods, such as vegetables, fruit, eggs, and milk should be used for this purpose. After the class has carried out a method for the first time, they should be led to consider the order of work required for it. The necessary steps should be arranged to form a set of rules for reference. The effects of the method in each case should also be noted. When the moist heat methods are well known, the dry heat methods should be taught and practised. The outlines on pages 73-81 will suggest the development under each method. PLAN OF LESSON ON BOILING CARROTS AIM To apply the principles of boiling, as taught in a previous lesson, to the cooking of food. TIME LIMIT One and one-half hours to be used approximately as follows: twenty-five minutes for preparation for practical work and the first part of the practical work, twenty-five minutes for the development of ideas of boiling as a method of cooking, fifteen minutes for the serving of food, twenty-five minutes for housekeeping. PREPARATION FOR PRACTICAL WORK 1. Review.--Question the pupils as follows: What kind of heat is used in cooking food by boiling? At what temperature is the food cooked by this method? Name the kinds of boiling. How much hotter is rapid boiling? How is water made to boil rapidly? When is rapid boiling useful? 2. Discussion of recipe.--Have the recipe written on the black-board and read by one of the pupils, while the others follow the reading carefully. (1) Have the class decide: (_a_) When the fires should be lighted (_b_) The dishes required for the work (_c_) The kind of boiling to use. (2) Demonstrate the scrubbing, scraping, and dicing of a carrot, also the draining of a food cooked in liquid. (3) State the quantity of ingredients each will use. (4) Caution the pupils as to accuracy, neatness, and quietness while working. PRACTICAL WORK Have each pupil prepare the food according to the recipe and put it on to cook within a certain time. While the class works, carefully observe each pupil and give individual help to those who require it. DEVELOPMENT OF THE IDEAS OF BOILING AS A METHOD OF COOKING This will be done while the carrots are cooking. The ideas brought out from review and the class work, by questioning, will be those which are given on boiling under the methods of cooking. 1. Definition of boiling 2. Kinds of boiling 3. Uses of rapid boiling 4. Rules for boiling 5. Effects of boiling. As these ideas are obtained from the class, they should be written by the teacher on the black-board and by the pupils in their note-books. SERVING The pupils will drain, season, and serve the food. Each girl will set one place on the wooden part of the table and serve herself. While the food is being eaten, the table manners of each girl should be observed, and, if necessary, corrected in a tactful manner. HOUSEKEEPING The work of putting the kitchen in order may be done in groups of twos or fours. RECIPE: BOILED CARROTS Carrots Boiling water Salt and pepper Butter. 1. Scrub, scrape, and rinse the carrots. 2. Cut them into pieces by dicing them. 3. Put the pieces in a saucepan, set over the fire, and pour in boiling water until the food is covered. 4. Cook the carrots until the pieces are soft at the centre when pierced with a fork. 5. Drain off the liquid, then season the food with salt, pepper, and butter. 6. Serve in a hot vegetable dish. PLAN OF LESSON ON SIMMERING: APPLES INTRODUCTION 1. Review: (1) Appearance and temperature of a boiling liquid. (2) Appearance and temperature of a simmering liquid. 2. State the difficulty of keeping a liquid at simmering temperature; show the double boiler and explain its use for this purpose. 3. Compare boiling and simmering as to length of time required and difficulty. 4. Tell the pupils they are going to study simmering by making Coddled Apples. DISCUSSION OF RECIPE 1. Read recipe. 2. Question regarding: (1) Kind of heat used (2) Whether to prepare apples or syrup first, and why (3) Management in measuring so as to use only one cup (4) Why one quantity of syrup is sufficient for so many apples. 3. Decide on the dishes required for the work. PRACTICAL WORK Assign work in groups of twos--numbers one and three prepare syrup; numbers two and four prepare apples; all attend to the cooking. DEVELOPMENT OF IDEAS OF SIMMERING (To be dealt with while food is cooking) 1. Definition.--Obtain this by comparing simmering with boiling. 2. Effects: (1) Compare a raw and simmered apple to get the idea of "soft and tender". (2) Tell the pupils simmering temperature will not harden and toughen meat and eggs as much as boiling does. (3) Lying longer in the liquid to cook dissolves out more of the food substance. (4) Less water going off as vapour does not carry away as much flavour. (5) Less motion in the liquid does not break up the food. SERVING When the apples are tender, let each girl serve herself with what she has cooked. While the fruit is being eaten, direct attention to the flavour of apple in the syrup. HOUSEKEEPING Assign the work which is necessary to put the kitchen in order, and allow the pupils to carry it out in groups of twos or fours. RECIPE (INDIVIDUAL): CODDLED APPLES 1 apple 1/4 c. sugar 1/2 c. water. 1. Put the sugar and water in the inside part of a double boiler, set over the fire, and boil gently for about five minutes. 2. Wash and pare the apple, cut it into halves, and remove the core. 3. Put the prepared fruit into the syrup, cover the dish closely, and set in the under part of the double boiler. 4. Simmer the pieces of apple until tender, turning them occasionally. 5. Lift the fruit carefully into a serving dish, then pour the syrup over it. 6. Serve hot or cold. NOTE.--One cup of sugar will make sufficient syrup for six or seven apples. METHODS OF COOKING: DETAILS BOILING 1. Definition: Boiling is a method of cooking in which the heat reaches the food through a boiling liquid. 2. Kinds of boiling: (1) Gentle boiling--temperature of 212 degrees. (2) Rapid boiling--temperature of 212 degrees. 3. Uses of rapid boiling: (1) To make much steam (2) To break up food (3) To keep small particles of food in motion. 4. Rules for boiling: (1) Put the food in a cooking dish, set over the heat, and pour in the boiling liquid to cover the food well. (2) Regulate the heat to the kind of boiling required. (3) Keep the food boiling during the entire cooking. (4) Continue the cooking until the food is tender at the centre when it is tested, or for the time required by the recipe. (5) When the food is cooked, lift it from the liquid or drain the liquid from the food. 5. Effects of boiling: (1) It makes some food soft and tender--fruit, vegetables. (2) It makes some food hard and tough--eggs, etc. (3) It breaks up food. (4) It dissolves out some of the food substance. (5) It causes some loss of flavour (in the steam). (6) It kills germs. SIMMERING 1. Definition: Simmering is a method of cooking in a liquid at a temperature of about 180 degrees. 2. Rules for simmering: (1) Use a double boiler to keep the temperature correct. (2) Put the food in liquid in the top dish, and proceed as in boiling. 3. Effects of simmering: (1) It makes some foods soft and tender--fruit and vegetables. (2) It does not make the protein of animal food (milk, eggs, and meat) hard as boiling does. (3) It dissolves out a good deal of the food substance into the cooking liquid. (4) It causes very little loss of flavour. (5) It does not break up the food. STEAMING 1. Definition: Steaming is a method of cooking in the steam from boiling liquid. 2. Rules for steaming: (1) Have the water boiling rapidly in the under part of the steamer. (2) Put the food in the upper part, cover closely, and place over the lower part. (3) Keep the water boiling rapidly during the entire cooking. (4) If extra water be needed, only boiling water should be added, as quickly and as gently as possible. (5) Continue the cooking according to the time required by the recipe, or test as in boiling, if the food permits. 3. Effects of steaming: (1) It makes vegetable food tender. (2) It makes the protein of animal food harder than simmering, but not so hard as boiling does. (3) It does not break up the food. (4) It does not dissolve out the food substance. (5) It causes little loss of flavour if closely covered. STEEPING 1. Definition: Steeping is a method of cooking, by pouring boiling water over food, and letting it stand in a moderately warm place. 2. Rules for steeping: (1) Heat the steeping dish. (2) Use water freshly boiled. (3) Put the food in the hot dish, pour water over, cover closely, and set in a warm place. (4) Let the food remain in the liquid until you have extracted what is desired. (5) Strain off the liquid and use as required. 3. Effects of steeping: (1) To heat and soften the food. (2) To extract the flavour and, sometimes, the substance of the food. TOASTING 1. Definition: Toasting is a method of cooking in which the heat reaches the food directly from the fire. It is used mainly for bread. 2. Rules for toasting: (1) Have a clear, hot fire. (2) Cut bread in slices from one third to one half an inch thick. (3) Hold the food at some distance from the fire, in a gentle heat at first, to dry and heat the surfaces. This drying may be done in the oven. (4) Then hold the dried, hot surfaces in a strong heat, to brown and crisp them. (5) Serve so that the surfaces will not become steamed from the moisture still contained in the slices. Put the toast in a toast-rack or stack it on a hot plate. Buttered toast may be piled. 3. Effects of toasting: (1) To heat and dry the surface of the food. (2) To brown and crisp the surface. (3) To change the flavour. (4) To change the starch of the surface into a brown substance, which is a form of sugar, and more digestible than starch. BROILING 1. Definition: Broiling is a method of cooking in which the heat reaches the food directly. It is used mainly for meat and fish in slices or thin portions. 2. Rules for broiling: (1) Have a clear, hot fire. (2) Grease the broiler and trim the food. (3) Lay the food in the broiler compactly. (4) Hold the broiler in a very strong heat to seal the tubes of the food which hold the juices, and turn frequently. (5) When the surface is seared, hold in a gentler heat to cook the food to the centre, and turn occasionally while doing this. (6) Time the cooking to the thickness of the food--one inch of thickness cooks rare in eight minutes. (7) Serve at once on a hot dish, and spread with butter, salt, and pepper. 3. Effects of broiling: (1) To sear the surface. (2) To cook to the centre while browning the surface. (3) To change the flavour and develop a very delicious one in the browned surface. (4) To make the browned surface hard to digest. PAN-BROILING 1. Definition: Pan-broiling is an imitation of broiling and is a method of cooking on a hissing-hot, metal surface. 2. Rules for pan-broiling: (1) Have a hot fire. (2) Heat the pan or metal surface until it hisses when touched with water. (3) Lay the food in compactly, and turn constantly until the entire surface is seared. (4) Place the pan in a gentle heat and cook the food to the centre, turning occasionally. (5) Time the cooking to the thickness of the food--one inch cooks rare in ten minutes. (6) Serve at once, as in broiling. 3. Effects of pan-broiling: The same as in broiling. SAUTÉING 1. Definition: Sautéing is a method of cooking in which the heat reaches the food through a smoking-hot, greased surface. 2. Rules for sautéing: (1) Heat the pan enough to melt the fat. (2) Put in just enough fat to keep the food from sticking, and let it run over the surface of the pan, and get smoking hot. (3) Put in the food and let it brown on one side, then turn it and brown the other side. (4) Serve on a hot dish. 3. Effects of sautéing: (1) To sear the surface of the food. (2) To brown the surface and develop a delicious flavour, while cooking to the centre. (3) To make the surface slightly fat-soaked with fat which has been very highly heated. (4) To make the surface indigestible. BAKING 1. Definition: Baking is a method of cooking in which the heat is brought to the food through the confined heat of an oven. 2. Kinds of ovens: (1) Slow. (2) Moderate--white paper browns in ten minutes. (3) Hot--white paper browns in five minutes. (4) Very hot--white paper browns in one minute. 3. Rules for baking: (1) Heat the oven according to the recipe. (2) Put the food in the oven, usually on the lower shelf, to get an under heat first, then toward the last of the cooking, set it on the top shelf to brown. (3) Watch carefully during the baking, but in opening the oven door, be gentle and quick. (4) If the oven gets too hot, set a pan of cold water in it, or leave the door slightly open. If browning too quickly, cover the surface with brown paper. (5) Cook the food according to the time required by the recipe, or until it is done, as shown by some test. FRYING 1. Definition: Frying is a method of cooking in which the heat is brought to the food by immersing it in smoking-hot fat. 2. Temperature for frying: (1) For cooked foods which have only to brown and warm through--about 400 degrees. (2) For raw foods which have to cook--about 350 degrees. 3. Rules for frying: (1) Use a deep iron, steel, or granite kettle, which will hold the heat. (2) Put in sufficient fat to cover the food well, but never fill the kettle more than two-thirds full. (3) Heat the fat to the desired temperature. (4) Have the food as dry as possible and not very cold. (5) When the fat begins to give off a small quantity of _white_ vapour, test it for the required heat, as follows: (_a_) For raw food, put in a small square of bread, and allow it sixty seconds to brown. (_b_) For cooked food, allow a square of bread forty seconds to brown. (6) Put the food carefully into the hot fat, and only an amount which will not cool it too much. (7) When the food is nicely browned, lift it from the fat with an open spoon or lifter and drain over the pot until it stops dripping. (8) Lay the food on crumpled brown paper or blotting paper, to absorb any fat still clinging to the surface. (9) Strain the fat through cheesecloth and set it away to cool. 4. Effects of frying: (1) To sear the surface and prevent it from absorbing fat. (2) To cook or heat the food to the centre. (3) To brown the surface of the food and make it crisp. (4) To develop a delicious flavour in the browned surface. (5) To make the browned surface indigestible, because it has absorbed highly-heated fat. NOTE.--As frying requires the fat used to be at a very high temperature, it is dangerous to let young children take the responsibility in this method of cooking. For this reason, it may be wise to defer lessons on frying until the Fourth Form, or even later. For practice in the methods of cooking, the following is suggestive: Boiling.--Cooking of any vegetable or fruit in season or rice, macaroni, eggs, coffee Simmering.--Dried fruit, such as prunes, peaches, apricots, apples; strong-smelling vegetables, such as cabbage, onions; porridge; stew Steaming.--Potatoes, cauliflower, apples, peaches, cup-puddings, dumplings, fish Steeping.--Tea, coffee, lemon rind for sauce Toasting.--Bread, rolls Broiling.--Steak, fish Pan-broiling.--Steak Sautéing.--Sliced potatoes, potato cakes, hash cakes, griddle-cakes (teacher prepares the batter) Baking.--Apples, bananas, potatoes, scalloped potatoes, scalloped tomatoes, cheese crackers, drop biscuits, beef-loaf Frying.--Potatoes, cod-fish balls, doughnuts (teacher prepares the dough). The lessons which give practice in the methods of cooking will also afford excellent drills in _measuring_, _manipulation_, and _cleaning_. Throughout all these, the weak points of individual members of the class should receive careful attention. In the case of typical defects, much time may be saved by calling the attention of the class to these, instead of correcting them individually. After the pupils have considered and practised the methods of cooking, they should be able to prepare any simple dish of one main ingredient, for which recipes should be given. If these cannot be used at school, they may be of service in the homes of the pupils. Economy should be emphasized by suggesting simple ways of using left-overs, and definite recipes should be written for these. Fancy cooking should be discouraged. The teacher should aim to show how the necessary common foods may be prepared in a nutritious and attractive manner. In this first year of practical work, _the main point is the formation of correct habits of work_. Cleanliness, neatness, and accuracy should be insisted on in every lesson, and deftness should be encouraged. SUGGESTIONS FOR THE USE OF LEFT-OVERS BREAD 1. Toast for garnishing stews and hash 2. Croutons for soup 3. Bread crumbs to use for croquettes and scalloped dishes, or for stuffing meat and fish 4. Pudding (chocolate bread pudding, cabinet pudding, plain bread pudding, brown betty) 5. Pancakes. CAKE 1. Pudding (steamed until just re-heated and served with a sauce) 2. Pudding (baked in a custard mixture) 3. Trifle. MEAT 1. Meat pie or potato and meat pie 2. Meat loaf 3. Stew with dumplings 4. Hash 5. Scalloped meat 6. Croquettes 7. Meat moulded in gelatine 8. Salad (light meats only) 9. Sandwiches. FISH 1. Scalloped fish 2. Salad. EGGS 1. Stuffed eggs 2. Hard-boiled for salad 3. Garnish for salad 4. Sandwiches. CHEESE 1. Cheese crackers 2. Cheese straws 3. Cheese cream toast 4. Cheese omelet 5. Cheese salad 6. Welsh rarebit 7. Macaroni and cheese 8. Sandwiches. VEGETABLES 1. Scalloped vegetable 2. Cream of vegetable soup (water in which vegetable is cooked should be kept for this) 3. Sautéd vegetables 4. Salad. CANNED FRUIT 1. Cup pudding or roly poly 2. Steamed or baked batter pudding 3. Pudding sauce (strain juice and thicken) 4. Trifle 5. Fruit salad 6. Gelatine mould. BEVERAGES After the moist heat methods of cooking are learned, a special lesson on beverages may be taken, if the teacher thinks it desirable. If the subject be not taken as a whole, each beverage may be taught incidentally, when a recipe requiring little time is useful. The following will suggest an outline of facts for a formal lesson: MEANING OF BEVERAGES A beverage is a liquid suitable for drinking. Water is the natural beverage; other beverages are water with ingredients added to supply food, flavour, stimulant, or colour. Since water is tasteless in itself and also an excellent solvent, it is especially useful in making beverages. KINDS OF BEVERAGES 1. Refreshing.--Pure cold water, all cold fruit drinks 2. Stimulating.--All hot drinks, tea, coffee, beef-tea, alcoholic drinks 3. Nutritious.--Milk, cocoa, chocolate, oatmeal and barley water, tea and coffee with sugar and cream. NOTE.--As tea, coffee, and cocoa are ordinary household beverages, they should be specially studied. Their sources and manufacture will have been learned in Form III Junior, but their use as beverages may now be discussed and practised. It is desirable that the pupils be led to reason out correct methods of cooking each. TEA 1. Description.--The leaves contain, beside a stimulant and flavour, an undesirable substance known as tannin, which is injurious to the delicate lining of the stomach. If the tea be properly made, the tannin is not extracted. 2. Method of cooking.--Steep the tea from three to five minutes, then separate the leaves from the liquid (suggest ways of doing this). Boiling is not a correct method to use for making tea, as it extracts the tannin and causes loss of flavour in the steam. NOTE.--Because of the stimulant, young people should not drink tea or coffee. COFFEE 1. Description.--The beans, or seeds, of coffee also contain tannin as well as a stimulant and flavour. This beverage is more expensive than tea, since a much larger amount must be used for one cup of liquid. After the beans are broken by grinding, the air causes the flavour to deteriorate, so that the housekeeper should grind the beans as required, or buy in small quantities and keep in tightly covered cans. 2. Method of cooking.--Coffee may be cooked in different ways, according to the size of the pieces into which the roasted beans are broken. These pieces are much harder than the leaves of tea, hence coffee may be given a higher temperature and a longer time in cooking than tea. Small pieces of beans are apt to float in the liquid, making it cloudy; this may be overcome by the use of egg-white or by careful handling. Coarsely ground coffee must be boiled gently. Finely ground coffee may be boiled gently or steeped. Very finely ground, or powdered coffee should be steeped or filtered with boiling water. COCOA 1. Description.--This contains a stimulant, but differs from tea and coffee in being nutritious. It makes a desirable drink for children. 2. Method of cooking.--Cocoa contains starch and should be simmered or gently boiled. CHOCOLATE This substance is the same as cocoa, except that it contains a much larger amount of fat. TABLE SETTING The serving of food is incidentally a necessary part of nearly every lesson in cookery, as the pupils usually eat what they prepare. In regular class work the bare work table is used, and each pupil prepares a place for herself only. The dishes soiled during the lesson should be placed on the section covered with metal or glass at the back of the table, and the front, or wooden part, cleared to be used as a dining table. The teacher should insist on this part being clean and neatly arranged. The few dishes used should be the most suitable selected from the individual equipments, and they should be as carefully placed as for a meal. From the very first, the pupils should be trained to habits of neatness in setting the table, and in serving the food; and, what is most important, they should be trained to eat in a refined manner. Lack of time is sometimes given as an excuse for neglecting this training in the usual cookery lessons; but if the teacher insists upon neatness in work and good table manners, the pupils will soon learn to comply without loss of time. Laying a table may be formally taught at any stage of the work of Form III, but it is most suitable after the class is capable of preparing the food for a simple home meal. The topics of the lesson may be presented as follows: PREPARATION 1. See that the dining-room is well aired and in order. 2. See that the linen is clean and carefully laundered. 3. See that the glass, silver, and steel are polished. 4. Decide on the number to be served. ARRANGEMENT 1. Place a silence cloth of felt, woollen, or thick cotton: (1) To prevent the dishes from making a noise (2) To give the table a better appearance (3) To preserve the table top. 2. Lay the cloth, placing the centre of the cloth in the centre of the table and spreading it smoothly, having its folds parallel with the edges of the table. 3. Arrange a centre-piece, using a vase or basket of flowers, a small plant or a dish of fruit. 4. Put a plate at each person's place and lay the cutlery and silver beside it about one inch from the edge of the table, in the order of use, those used first on the outside, or farthest from the plate. At dinner these plates are usually placed before the one who serves. (1) Place the knives at the right side, with the sharp edges toward the plate. (2) Place the forks at the left side, with the tines up. (3) Place the soup spoons at the right of the knife, bowl up. (4) Place the dessert spoons in front of the plates, the handle to the right, the bowl up. (5) Place the dessert forks with the other forks, or in front of the plates with the dessert spoons. 5. Place the water glasses at the end of the knife blades, top up. 6. Place the bread and butter plates at the left of the forks. (These are not necessary at dinner.) 7. Place the napkins at the left, neatly folded; discourage fancy folding. [Illustration: Table laid for a home dinner] 8. Place the salt and pepper so that they are convenient to every one. 9. Place the dishes that are to be served at table directly in front of the one who is to serve them. 10. Place the carving set in front of the host, and the tablespoons as on page 89, or where food is to be served. 11. Place a chair for each person. [Illustration: Individual section of table laid for dinner] TABLE MANNERS In Form III, the children are too young to serve at table, so the lesson on Preparing and Serving Meals, page 136, has been reserved for the work of Form IV, Junior Grade. The class should, however, be carefully trained in table manners from the first. In their usual class work this will be incidentally taught. A regular lesson should include the following: RULES FOR CORRECT TABLE MANNERS These are based upon the accepted customs of well-bred people, and have in view the convenience and comfort of all who are at the table. They may be stated as follows: 1. Stand behind the seat assigned you. 2. Wait until the hostess is seated, before taking a seat. 3. Sit naturally erect, without any support from the elbows, placing the feet on the floor. 4. Do not begin to eat until others are served. 5. Eat and drink quietly, taking small mouthfuls; keep the mouth closed while eating. 6. Do not drink with food in the mouth. 7. Do not talk with food in the mouth. 8. Use a fork preferably, whenever it will serve the purpose; and never put a knife into the mouth. 9. Take soup from the side of the spoon. 10. Wipe the mouth before drinking from a glass. 11. Be attentive to the needs of others. 12. If it be necessary to leave the table, ask the hostess to excuse you. 13. If a guest for one meal only, leave the napkin unfolded beside the plate. 14. Never use a toothpick at the table, or in any company. 15. Wait for the hostess to rise, then stand, and replace the chair in position. CHAPTER VI FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE THE KITCHEN At the beginning of the year's work in Form IV, several lessons should be spent in reviewing the methods of cooking and cleaning taught in the previous year. This may be done by reviewing former recipes and by using new ones which require a knowledge of these methods. As the pupils work, they should be closely observed, and, without the teacher giving undue assistance, their weak points should be carefully strengthened. The length of time spent on the review will vary according to the ability of the class. This can be plainly judged by their habits of work. The new recipes given them should be such as they are likely to use at home, so as to encourage home practice. These recipes will also enlarge their collection in their special recipe books. Some of the following may be useful: creamed potatoes, potato omelet, stuffed potatoes, stuffed onions, corn oysters, baked tomatoes, spaghetti with tomato sauce, macaroni and cheese, scalloped apples, plain rice pudding, ginger pudding, sago pudding, tapioca cream. THE KITCHEN FIRE Up to this time the pupils have been allowed to manage their individual table stoves or a gas range. They should now be taught to understand and to use an ordinary coal or wood range. Two lessons will be necessary for this purpose. After each lesson has been taught, the remainder of the period should be spent in some kind of practical work which can be accomplished in the time. Some cookery which requires only a few minutes may be reviewed, such as tea, cocoa, coffee, toast, bacon, apple sauce; drawers and cupboards may be cleaned; silver and steel may be polished; designs for wall-paper, dishes, curtains, and dress materials may be drawn; household accounts may be computed; sewing may be finished. LESSON I REQUIREMENTS OF A KITCHEN FIRE In introducing a lesson on the kitchen fire, ask the pupils to imagine that they have built a new house, which the workmen have just vacated. Before they can move in it must be cleaned. What kind of water is best for cleaning? Hot water. What is necessary to provide hot water? A fire. Find out from the pupils and then write on the black-board what is necessary for a fire. What is the first requisite? Something to burn. What do we call such a substance? _Fuel._ Where shall we put the fuel? In a _stove_. Why is a stove necessary? To confine the fire. Using a candle as fuel and a lamp chimney as a stove, light the candle and place it in the chimney. It burns only a short time and then dies out. Why? Because the oxygen of the air in the chimney is all exhausted. Then what is another requisite for a fire? _Oxygen._ Imagine the room to be a stove and the chairs, books, tables, etc., to be fuel. The air in the room also contains much oxygen, so that in this room we have three requisites for a fire. It is very fortunate for us that something else is needed. We shall try to find out what it is. Watch while I hold these strips of paper over this lighted gas stove high enough to be out of reach of the flame. What happened to them? They burst into a flame. What did the paper that I held receive that it did not get when it was lying on the table? Heat. We shall try a match in the same way, also some thin shavings. They also burn when they receive heat from the fire. Then what is another requisite for a fire? _Heat._ Name all of the requisites for a kitchen fire. _Fuel_, _stove_, _oxygen_, and _heat_. NOTE.--Just here it is a good thing to impress the care that is necessary in regard to gasolene, coal-oil, benzine, etc., or any substance that burns at a low temperature. Bring out the fact very clearly that it is the heat that makes fuel burn, that a flame is not necessary. HEAT Experiments to show on what the amount of heat required depends: 1. Heat together two strips of paper of the same size but of different thicknesses and observe which burns first. 2. Heat together a strip of very thin paper and a match which is much thicker than the paper, and observe which burns first. 3. Rub a match vigorously on some surface and observe the result. Conclusions.--1. The amount of heat required to make fuel burn depends on: (1) The thickness of the fuel. (2) The substance composing the fuel. 2. Some substances burn at a very low temperature. NOTE.--This will explain the order of laying the fuel for a fire and the use of a match in lighting it. OXYGEN Experiments to show the means of obtaining oxygen: 1. Light a candle, set the lamp chimney over it and observe the result. 2. Raise the chimney by supporting it on two small pieces of wood. Note the result. 3. Cover the raised chimney with a piece of cardboard. Note the result. [Illustration: Experiments to show the necessity for oxygen] Conclusions.--1. A fresh supply of oxygen is constantly required. 2. Two openings are required to ensure a constant supply of oxygen, one below the fuel and one above it. 3. Oxygen is obtained from the surrounding air. 4. The passage of air through these openings creates a draught. It will be necessary next to lead the class to see that the supply of oxygen can be controlled: 1. By the relation of the openings: (1) Openings directly opposite each other cause a rapid circulation of air or a "direct draught". (2) Indirect openings cause a slower circulation of air or an "indirect draught". 2. By a cross current of air which tends to check the draught. FUELS A discussion of the fuels may next be taken. With pupils of Form IV it will not be wise to go into too many details regarding these. Besides the classification of the commonest ones, they may be compared from the standpoints of cost, and of the time and labour required in their use. Classes of Fuels: Liquid--coal-oil, gasolene, alcohol Solid--coal (coke), wood (charcoal) Gaseous--natural gas, coal gas. NOTE.--Electricity is a means of producing heat, but cannot be called a fuel. THE KITCHEN STOVE LESSON II In developing the construction of a practical coal or wood range, it is a good idea to use the black-board and make a rough drawing to illustrate the details, as they are given by the pupils. These details should be evolved from the knowledge gained in the preceding lessons, and the drawing should not be an illustration of any particular stove. After the best practical stove, according to the pupils' ideas, has been thought out and represented on the black-board, they should examine and criticise the school range and the stoves at home. They are then ready to be given the responsibility of managing any ordinary range. * * * * * The following are the necessary details to be considered regarding a kitchen stove: Material.--(1) Iron, (2) steel Shape.--Rectangular. Compartments.--(1) Fire-box, (2) ash-box, (3) oven, (4) passage for hot air, (5) other compartments if desired, such as water tank, warming closet, etc. Dampers.--(1) Front damper--below the fuel, to control the entrance of oxygen to the fuel. (2) Oven damper--above the fuel at the entrance to the pipe, to control the heat for the oven, and also to control the draught. (3) Check damper--at the front of the stove above the fuel, to admit a cross current of air to check the draught. Management of the stove.--(1) Lighting the fire, (2) heating the oven, (3) arranging for over night, (4) cleaning and care. NOTE.--Openings below the level of the fire increase the draught, and those above the level check it. [Illustration: A kitchen coal or wood range, showing, (_a_) oven damper open] [Illustration: A kitchen coal or wood range, showing, (_b_) oven damper closed] THE FIRELESS COOKER Throughout the training given in Household Management, the teacher should emphasize the value of labour-saving devices and aids in the home. How to economize time and energy should be a prominent feature of every practical lesson. If time permit, a lesson may be taken to consider specially such aids as are readily procurable, together with their average cost. In this lesson the fireless cooker is considered. [Illustration: A fireless cooker] The principles of the fireless cooker are based on a knowledge of the laws governing the conduction and radiation of heat. For this reason, an elementary science lesson relating to these laws should precede this lesson. Such a science lesson is part of the regular grade work of Form IV, so if a specialist teaches the Household Management of that grade, she and the regular teacher should arrange to co-ordinate their lessons. PRINCIPLES OF THE FIRELESS COOKER 1. It furnishes no heat, but conserves the heat which is in the food when it is put into the cooker. 2. It conserves the heat in the food, by surrounding it with substances which are poor conductors of heat. 3. Extra heat may be given the food, after it is put in the cooker, by placing heated stone plates above and below the dish that contains the food. The stone used for this purpose must be a good absorbent of heat. REASONS FOR THE USE OF THE FIRELESS COOKER 1. It saves fuel and is therefore economical. 2. It saves time, because it requires no watching. 3. It conserves the flavour of the food. 4. It obviates all danger of burning the food. 5. It does not heat the room. WAYS OF USING THE FIRELESS COOKER 1. Food cooked in liquid: In all cookers where stone plates are not used, only such foods as are cooked in liquids can be prepared. Examples of foods cooked in this way are, meat soup, beef-tea, meat stews, vegetables, fruit, porridge, cereal, puddings, etc. The prepared food is put into one of the food receptacles belonging to the cooker and is placed over a fire, until it has boiled for a few minutes. The cover is then tightly adjusted, and the dish quickly locked in the cooker, to conserve the heat that the food and liquid have absorbed. 2. Food cooked in dry heat by the use of stone plates: In this method the food is cold when it is placed in the cooker, and all the heat is supplied by stone plates placed above and below the utensil containing the food. These plates are heated for about twenty minutes over a fire, before they are used in the cooker. Examples of food cooked in this way are, roasts of meat; baked fruit, such as apples; baked vegetables, such as potatoes or beans; cakes, such as plain cake or fruit cake; quick bread, such as corn-bread and biscuits. 3. Food cooked in liquid, aided by the heat of one stone plate: In cases where the original heat absorbed by the food is not sufficient to complete the cooking as desired, a heated stone plate may be placed in the cooker below the utensil containing the hot food. The stone may be necessary for one of the following reasons-- (1) Because the amount of food put into the cooker is too small to contain much heat. It is always better to have the food nearly fill the dish. (2) Because the time required is so long that the heat of the food and liquid becomes exhausted before the cooking is completed. (3) Because it is desirable to finish the cooking in less time. A HOME-MADE FIRELESS COOKER Use a large wooden box or a small trunk with a close-fitting cover. Make it as air-tight as possible by pasting thick paper all over the inside. Pack it level with clean sawdust or excelsior (the latter preferably), until just enough height is left to set in a covered granite pail, which is to be used for holding the food. Place the pail in the centre, so that its top edge is just about half an inch below the top of the box. Then pack in more excelsior very tightly around the pail, until level with it. This will shape the "nest" for the pail. [Illustration: A home-made fireless cooker] Make a thick cushion, or mat, of excelsior to fit in the space between the level of the excelsior and the inside of the cover. Cover the cushion with cheesecloth or denim to keep it intact. NOTE.--Only food cooked in a liquid can be prepared in a home-made cooker. CHAPTER VII FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) STUDY OF FOOD The pupils have been working with some of the well-known foods in all of their recipes and should have a fair knowledge of how to prepare them in simple ways for the table. It is now time for them to learn what these foods contain for the use of their bodies. Much of this part of the work can be taught in rooms without special equipment. An earnest teacher, with a few articles from home, can make the study interesting and valuable. A series of lessons will be necessary for this purpose. The amount of work to be taken at one time is suggested, but this should be judged by the teacher. As in other lessons on theory, the remaining time of the lesson period should be used in practical work. Suggestions for such practical work are given under the lesson on "The Kitchen Fire", page 92. Practice lessons, to give variety and sustain interest, should be interspersed between these lessons as desired. LESSON I USES OF FOOD The lesson may be introduced by asking the class to think in what way the body of a healthy baby, who is fed regularly, will have changed at the end of six months. It will be larger; it will have more flesh, more bone, more hair, etc. We want to get a name that will apply to any part of the body. No matter which part we examine through a microscope we find the same fine and beautiful texture, and to this we give a name similar to that given to fine, thin paper. We call it _tissue_--hair tissue, bone tissue, flesh tissue. What has food done to the baby's tissues? It has enlarged its tissues; the child has grown larger. To the enlargement, or growth, of the tissues, we may apply the term, _build_, suggested by the building of a house. Then what may we say food does for the tissues of the body? We may say that _food builds the tissues of the body_. Think of some persons who have taken food every day, and yet as long as you have known them they have not increased in size. What has food done for their tissues? The class must be told that the tissues of our bodies wear out through use, and that food has furnished the material to replace the worn-out parts. What do we say we are doing to clothes when we replace the worn parts? We are mending or repairing them. What does food do for our worn-out tissues? _Food repairs the tissues of the body._ Do not think any more about the tissues of the body. Suppose you had not been able to get any food for several days. In what way would you be different from what you are now? You would not be as strong. Food gives strength or energy by being burned inside the body. There is a fire burning in our bodies all the time we are alive, the fuel being food. What do we require from the fire in our homes? We require heat. The fires in our bodies give us heat also. Any fire gives off both heat and energy. State another use of food to the body. _Food produces heat and energy in the body._ But food does more for the body; it contains substances to keep our bodies in order. Suppose the clock gets out of order and does not keep good time, what does the watchmaker do to it? He regulates it. That is what certain kinds of food do for us. What then is another use of food? _Food regulates the body._ Name the uses of food to the body. 1. It builds the tissues. 2. It repairs the tissues. 3. It produces heat and energy. 4. It regulates the body. How then can we judge if a substance be a food? By deciding that it performs one of these duties in the body. LESSON II NECESSARY SUBSTANCES IN FOOD The names of the substances in food which supply the material for the different uses of the body should be taken next. 1. _For building and repairing._--(1) Mineral matter--used largely in hard tissues. (2) Nitrogenous matter, or protein--used largely for flesh. (3) Water--used in all tissues. 2. _For fuel._--Carbonaceous matter (starch, sugar, fat). 3. _For regulating._--Mineral matter, water. NOTE.--The teacher should call attention to the fact that few foods contain all these substances, some have nearly all, some have only one, some two or more. In order to get all, we must eat a variety of foods. The class is now ready to consider the well-known foods, in order to find out which of these necessary substances each food contains, and to obtain a general idea of their comparative food values. SOURCES OF FOOD All nature supplies us with food. The three great divisions of nature are animal, vegetable, and mineral, and from each we obtain food, though most largely from the animal and vegetable kingdoms. Animal food is some part of an animal's body or some product of an animal: examples--meat or fish, milk, eggs. Vegetable food is some part of a plant: examples--vegetables, fruit, seeds. Mineral food is some constituent of the earth's crust used as food. This mineral food is obtained by drinking water which in coursing through the earth has absorbed certain minerals, by eating plants which have absorbed the minerals from the soil, or by eating animal food which was built from plant food. This preliminary survey of the sources of all our food gives the pupils a basis for classifying the foods with which they are familiar. They may be given exercises in doing this, and will not only find them interesting, but most useful as nature study. STUDY OF THE COMMON FOODS In beginning the analysis of the common foods, it must be remembered that the pupils have no knowledge of chemistry, and that what is found in each food must be discovered through the senses (seeing, smelling, tasting, feeling), or through a process of reasoning. The pupils should also feel quite sure of what they are setting out to do; they are going to examine some particular, well-known food, to find which of the necessary food substances it contains. The food substances for which they are looking are water, mineral matter, nitrogenous matter, and carbonaceous matter (sugar, starch, fat). It is better to provide each pupil with a sample of the food to be studied, but where conditions make this difficult, the one used by the teacher will suffice. STUDY OF MILK LESSON I COMPOSITION Milk is the best food to examine first, because it contains all the food elements except starch and because these can be easily found. The pupils may each be asked to bring a half cup of milk from home. It may be allowed to stand in glasses while other work is taken. When ready for the lesson, ask the pupils to look at the contents of the glass, and they will observe a difference of colour where the cream has risen. Nature itself has divided the milk into two parts. Pour off the top part and feel it. It feels greasy. Butter is made from this part. We have found _fat_--a carbonaceous food. Move the milk around in the glass and let the pupils see that it is a liquid. Tell them that all liquid in a natural food is mostly water. We have, therefore, another food substance--_water_, a builder and regulator. Let the pupils compare a glass of water with a glass of skimmed milk, and they see that something is dissolved in the water of the milk, giving it the white colour. Show them a glass of sour milk, where the white substance is separate from the water. Get the names curd and whey. Tell them how the cheesemaker separates sweet milk into curd and whey. If advisable, let them do it, but in any case show them some sweet milk separated by rennet. Examine the sweet whey. It tastes sweet, denoting the presence of _sugar_--another carbonaceous food. Notice the greenish-yellow colour. Recall this same colour in water in which potatoes, cabbage, or other vegetables have been cooked. Tell the pupils that this colour is given by _mineral matter_ being dissolved in the water. There is still the curd of milk to examine. The use of the senses does not allow us to definitely decide what food substance the curd is. Tell the pupils it is protein, or find the name by a process of reasoning, thus: Recall the fact that babies live for several months on milk alone and during that time build all tissues of the body. Milk, therefore, must contain all tissue-building substances. Review the food substances which are necessary to build all body tissues--mineral matter, protein, and water. We have found the mineral matter and water in milk, but not the protein. Since curd is the only remaining part of milk, it must be largely protein. Tell the pupils that the scum which comes on the top of milk, when it is boiled, is another kind of protein of which there is a small amount in solution in milk. Lead the pupils to see that if starch were present, it would be in a raw form, and in this form is indigestible. LESSON II FOOD VALUE The analysis of milk gives a key to the food value of milk and each of its by-products (cream, butter, butter-milk, sour milk, skim milk, curd, whey, cheese, junket). These may now be briefly discussed as to composition, food value, and cost. CARE Milk readily absorbs odours, bacteria, etc., and should be kept in covered, sterilized dishes in a pure, cool atmosphere. EFFECT OF HEAT Experiments should be made to show the effect of simmering and boiling temperatures. To save time, a different experiment may be given to each pupil, and the results reported. 1. Simmer sweet milk and note the flavour. 2. Boil sweet milk and note the flavour. 3. Simmer the curd of milk. Examine its texture. 4. Boil the curd of milk. Examine its texture and compare it with the simmered curd. 5. Boil skim milk and note the scum. 6. Simmer skim milk and note the absence of scum. NOTE.--From the above experiments deduce the effect of heat on protein. Practice lessons may now be given in preparing simple dishes in which milk is the main ingredient, or, at least, recipes may be given for these to be made at home. The following would be suitable: cream sauce, cream soups, custard, junket, cottage cheese, albuminized milk. STUDY OF EGGS LESSON I PARTS (1) Shell, (2) thick membrane, (3) white, (4) thin membrane, (5) yolk. These parts are easily seen. Attention should be called to the pores in the shell, and it should be explained that these allow the entrance of bacteria which spoil the egg. Any means of closing these pores helps to preserve the egg. METHODS OF PRESERVING Cover the holes in the shell as follows: 1. Pack in salt, bran, sawdust, brine, or water-glass. 2. Coat the shells with fat or wax. 3. Wrap the eggs in paper. [Illustration: Testing eggs by floating: (1) slightly stale, (2) stale, (3) very stale] TESTS 1. In the shell: After an egg is laid, the liquid which it contains begins to evaporate through the pores of the shell and, as this continues, a noticeable space is left inside. (1) Shake the egg, holding it near the ear. If the contents rattle, it is somewhat stale. (2) Drop the egg in cold water. If it sinks, it is fresh. (3) Hold the egg between your eye and the light. If clear, it is fresh. (4) A rough appearance of the shell denotes freshness. 2. Out of the shell: White--this should be clear and cling to the yolk. Yolk--this should round up like a ball. CARE 1. If eggs are to be used in the near future, they should be washed and put in a pure, cool atmosphere. The lower shelf of the refrigerator is best, as odours rise, and eggs readily absorb these. 2. If eggs are to be preserved, they should not be washed unless their condition compels it, as washing removes the natural covering of the pores. They should be stored in a clean, cool place, and packed as soon as possible. LESSON II COMPOSITION It is wiser to develop the food substances in an egg by reasoning, rather than by examining the different parts. The shell is not used for food, so it is the contents that should be studied. The class should be guided in the following sequence of thought: 1. An egg is designed by nature to become a chicken, so it must contain all of the substances necessary to build a chicken. 2. A chicken is an animal, and all animal bodies are made of the same substances. These we have seen to be mineral matter, protein, and water. 3. An egg therefore contains these three substances. 4. An egg must also contain three weeks' food for the chicken, therefore must have fuel food as well. This fuel food is found in the yolk, in the form of fat. 5. The yolk therefore contains water, mineral matter, protein, and fat. 6. The white contains water, mineral matter, and protein. EFFECT OF HEAT ON EGGS The following experiments will show the effect on both yolk and white of the usual methods of applying heat to eggs: 1. Boil an egg for three minutes and note the effect. 2. Boil an egg for twenty minutes and note the effect. 3. Put an egg in boiling water, remove from the fire, and let it stand covered from eight to ten minutes. 4. Fry an egg and note the effect. NOTE.--The eggs may be put to boil and simmer at the beginning of the lesson, and pupils designated to take them from the heat at proper times. The eggs will then be ready to examine when required. CONCLUSIONS 1. Boiling an egg for three minutes does not allow time for the heat to reach the yolk. The white is hard and tough just next the shell, but soft and liquid as it approaches the yolk. 2. Boiling an egg for twenty minutes hardens and toughens the white, so that it all becomes hard to dissolve or digest. It also gives the heat time to reach the centre and hardens the yolk, but does not toughen it or make it hard to dissolve or digest. 3. Allowing the egg to stand in the hot water coagulates the white to a jelly-like consistency without toughening it; it also cooks the yolk. LESSONS III, IV, ETC. USES OF EGGS To give practice in preparing eggs and to show their special uses the following dishes would be suitable: 1. White: For food--poached eggs on toast, simmered eggs For cohesive (sticky) property--potato balls, fish balls For clearing liquids--coffee For holding air--foamy omelet For decoration--hard-boiled eggs cut in fancy shapes for garnishing, meringue on lemon pudding, etc. 2. Yolk: For food--egg-nog, scrambled eggs For thickening liquids--custard, salad dressing, lemon pudding For colouring foods--tapioca cream For decoration--hard boiled and grated over salads. STUDY OF VEGETABLE FOOD Before beginning this part of the work, it would be most helpful if the class had one or two nature study lessons on the structure and organs of plants. With the pupils in possession of some knowledge thus acquired, the Household Management teacher has only to lead up to ideas of the preparation and value of these parts as food. These ideas should, as far as possible, follow in such a natural order that the pupils may even anticipate the sequence. The outline may be as follows: LESSON I SOURCE All vegetable food is obtained from plants; it is some part of a plant used as food. PARTS OF PLANTS USED AS FOOD 1. Root--carrot, radish 2. Tuber--potato, artichoke 3. Bulb--onion 4. Stem--rhubarb, asparagus 5. Leaf--spinach, cabbage 6. Flower--cauliflower 7. Fruit--apple, orange 8. Seed--(1) Of trees (nuts)--beechnut, almond (2) Of grasses (cereals)--wheat, corn, rice (3) Of vines (legumes)--peas, beans, lentils. In asking for examples of the different parts, there will be more interest and value if the questions correlate other subjects, for instance: For what fruit is Canada noted? What fruit does she import? Name a nut the squirrels gather. LESSON II COMPOSITION OF ANY PART OF A PLANT From the foregoing, the pupils may infer that there are eight different foods to study. They should be led to see that in reality there is only one, as all parts of plants are, generally speaking, the same in structure. Referring to the animal body, they will know that a bone from the foot is of much the same structure as one from the face; that a piece of flesh from the leg is the same as a piece from any other part of the body. In the same way, if we study one part of a plant, it will be a type of all parts. In general the structure is as follows: 1. A framework, in cellular form, made of a substance called _cellulose_. 2. Material filling the cells: (1) A juice in the cells of all parts of plants except seeds (2) A solid in the cells of seeds. To show the framework, some vegetable food having a white colour should be chosen, such as potato, parsnip, or apple. It must be explained that all plants are made of a framework of numerous cells, something like a honey-comb. The cells in plants are of many different shapes, according to the plant, or the part of the plant, in which they are found. They are usually so small that they cannot be distinguished without a microscope; but occasionally they are large enough to be seen without one. Pass sections of orange or lemon, where the cells are visible. Make a drawing on the black-board of the cellular formation of a potato. Lead the class to understand that, in every case, the cell walls must be broken to get out the cell contents. To illustrate this, they may use potatoes, and break the cell walls by grating the potatoes. After they have broken up the framework, the cell contents should be strained through cheesecloth into a glass. They have now two parts to examine--cell walls and cell contents. [Illustration: Cellular structure of a potato] Wash the framework to free it of any cell juice and study it first. Give its name, and note its colour and texture. Compare the framework of potatoes, strawberries, lettuce, trees, etc. Tell the class that in some cases part of the cellulose is so fibrous that it is used to make thread, cloth, or twine; for instance, _flax_ and _hemp_. Cellulose is most difficult to dissolve, so that practically little of it is digested. It serves a mechanical purpose in the digestive tract by helping to fill the organs and dilute the real food. If fibrous, it acts as an irritant and overcomes sluggishness of the intestines known as constipation. The outer coats of cereals are an example of coarse cellulose, as used in brown bread and some kinds of porridge. Examine next the juice which was contained in the cells of the potato. The liquid shows much water; the colour indicates mineral matter in solution; the odour suggests a flavour; the white sediment is starch. COMPOSITION OF POTATO JUICE Water, mineral matter, flavouring matter, starch. Draw attention to the fact that the potato is the part of the plant which acts as a storehouse. In such parts, starch is always found as the stored form of sugar; but, in parts which are not storehouses, sugar will be found in its stead. In rare cases both are found, as in the parsnip. NOTE.--This is a good time to impress the fact that plants are the source of starch for manufacturing purposes. In England, potatoes are largely used; in Canada, corn. It will be interesting to state that the early settlers obtained their starch for laundry purposes at home from potatoes, by chopping or grinding them. The insolubility of starch in cold liquids may be effectively reviewed at this part of the lesson. The starch has been lying in the water of the potato cells for several months, yet has not dissolved. Let two or three of the class gradually heat the potato juice with its starch sediment, stirring all the time to distribute the sediment evenly. They will find that a little less than boiling temperature dissolves the starch. This will show them that heat is necessary for the solution of starch, and a heat much greater than that in the body, hence raw starch is indigestible. Recall the milk lesson and the uselessness of starch as a component of milk, unless the milk be cooked. Squeeze the juice from a sour apple or lemon, and note the taste. Explain that all fruit juices contain more or less acid. The effects of this acid in the body are similar to those of mineral matter. Protein is also found in plant juices; but in such small quantities that it may be disregarded as a source of food supply. GENERAL COMPOSITION OF PLANT JUICE Water; mineral matter; flavouring matter; starch or sugar, or both; acid (in fruit juice). LESSON III COMPOSITION OF SOLID MATERIAL IN CELLS OF SEEDS This part of the lesson may be developed as follows: 1. Seeds contain the building material for new plants, as well as their food for a short time. 2. Plants and animals require much the same material to build and feed them. 3. Animals require water, mineral matter, protein, sugar, starch, and fat. 4. Plants require the same; but the seed being a storehouse part of the plant, it will not have sugar, and water has to be supplied when the new plant is to be formed. 5. Seeds contain, therefore, mineral matter, protein, starch, and fat. NOTE 1.--Seeds will grow in water until their stored food is used: they must then be planted in soil, to get further nourishment. NOTE 2.--The two fuel foods, starch and fat, are not found together in abundance in seeds; one or the other will be much in excess. For instance, in walnuts there is a great deal of fat, while in peas and beans there is scarcely a trace of fat, but the starch is abundant. COMPARATIVE FOOD VALUE OF DIFFERENT PARTS OF PLANTS Only a very general idea of this should be attempted. The food value of any part of a plant can be roughly estimated by considering the office of that particular part in plant structure. Nature study will assist in this. The root collects the food to send it to the parts above; the stem is a hallway through which the food is carried in a more diluted form. The leaves serve the purpose of lungs and will not contain much food, though they naturally have a good deal of flavour; parsley, sage, and tea are examples of this. The fruit is a house to protect the seeds, and is made most attractive and delicious, so that animals will be tempted to eat this part, and thus assist in the dispersal of the seeds. The fruit has comparatively little food value as building material. The seed contains the stored material to build new plants, and therefore is the most nutritive part of all. It is the only part of the plant which contains an appreciable supply of building food, that is, which can take the place of eggs or meat in the diet. Baked beans are sometimes called "nuggets of nourishment" or "the poor man's beef". LESSON IV After discussing the food value of the different parts in this broad way, the pupils may be asked to consider the plant foods used in their diet and to compare their nutritive value. The facts concerning these may be summed up as follows: 1. Green vegetables: These generally contain much water, hardly any protein or fat, and a small amount of sugar. They are valuable mainly for their mineral matter and cellulose. 2. Root vegetables and tubers: These are more nutritious than green vegetables, because they contain much more sugar and starch. 3. Ripe seeds (cereals, legumes, and nuts): These are highly nutritious, because of the large amount of protein and building mineral matter they contain, and also the amount of fuel food. DRIED VEGETABLES AND FRUIT It is important that the value of these be pointed out. Dried foods contain all of the constituents of fresh food excepting water and a little flavour lost in evaporation, yet they are often much cheaper. Attention should be directed to the best means of restoring the water and, if necessary, of giving an additional flavour by the use of cloves, cinnamon, etc. Canning is a better means of preserving food for export or for use when out of season, but where the expense prohibits this method, drying is a good substitute. In districts where fruit and vegetables cannot be grown or in seasons when they cannot be obtained fresh, the dried forms are cheap and have excellent food value. THE COOKING OF VEGETABLE FOOD As vegetable food is eaten both raw and cooked, the pupils should be asked to decide when cooking is necessary and what they wish it to accomplish. * * * * * There are only two substances in vegetable food which will require cooking, and these are: 1. Cellulose, if it be hard or tough 2. Starch, if it be present. The pupils have found in their experiment with the potato water, that starch cooks quickly, hence the time of cooking will depend altogether on the texture of the cellulose. When the cellulose is softened at the centre, the last part which the heat reaches, the vegetable or fruit will be cooked. If the food is cooked in water by boiling or simmering, much of the substance will pass into the cooking water. As the cell walls become softened, they allow the cell contents to partially pass out and the cooking water to pass in to fill the space. If the food is long in cooking, the water may have more value than the vegetable, and it should not be thrown away. It may be used in two ways--as a basis for a sauce or a soup. GENERAL RULES FOR COOKING VEGETABLES NOTE.--As the principles in the general rules have been taught, these rules may be dictated to the class. PREPARATION 1. Wash, pare, peel, or scrape the vegetable, and cut it into convenient sizes. 2. Unless green vegetables are freshly gathered, soak them in cold water for an hour before cooking. 3. Soak dried vegetables at least twelve hours. COOKING 1. Put all vegetables on to cook in boiling water, except dried vegetables, which should be put on in cold water. 2. Strong-smelling vegetables should be cooked at simmering point, the others may boil gently. 3. For vegetables that grow above ground (including onions), salt the water (one tsp. to a quart). 4. For underground vegetables, do not salt the water. VEGETABLE RECIPE Prepare and cook the vegetables until tender, according to the rules given above. Drain off and measure the vegetable water. For each 1/2 cup of vegetable, take 1/4 cup of the water and make into a sauce. Re-heat the vegetable in the sauce and serve in a hot dish. NOTE 1.--For potatoes and tomatoes do not follow this recipe. NOTE 2.--The sauce is made by thickening each cup of vegetable water with two tablespoonfuls of flour, and seasoning as desired with salt, pepper, and butter. NOTE 3.--Another method of saving and using the valuable vegetable water is to make it into a soup. GENERAL RULES FOR COOKING FRUIT FRESH FRUIT 1. Stewed.--Put the prepared fruit in a saucepan with enough water to keep it from burning. Cover closely, and stew until tender, stirring often. Add the sugar and let the mixture boil a minute more. 2. Cooked in syrup.--Make a syrup of one part sugar to two or three parts water. Put the prepared fruit in the hot syrup, cover closely, and simmer until tender. DRIED FRUIT Wash the fruit thoroughly. Cover with cold water and soak twenty-four hours. Put on to cook in the same water in which it has soaked. Add spices if desired. Cover closely and simmer until tender. Add the sugar and simmer ten minutes longer. Take out the fruit, and, if necessary, boil down the syrup, then pour it over the fruit. LESSONS V, VI, ETC. While studying vegetable food, practice will be given in nearly every lesson in the preparation and cooking of vegetables or fruit, but after the completion of this series of lessons, these foods should be prepared and cooked with more intelligence and interest. For this reason, there may be, at the last, one general practical lesson devoted to vegetables and fruit, to review and impress the facts that have been taught. As potatoes, on account of their large amount of starch, require special care, an extra lesson may be given to this vegetable. In the lesson on potatoes the attention of the class should be directed to the following: POINTS IN COOKING POTATOES 1. Be sure to soften the cellulose thoroughly. 2. After the potatoes are cooked, get rid of all possible moisture, that they may be white and mealy. (1) If potatoes are cooked in water, drain them thoroughly, remove the cover, and shake over the heat to dry out the starch. (2) If potatoes are baked, break the skins and allow the moisture to escape as steam. 3. When serving mashed potatoes, pile them lightly without smoothing. USE OF STARCH TO THICKEN LIQUIDS A lesson on the use of starch for thickening purposes should be given before lessons on the making of a sauce or a soup from the water in which vegetables have been cooked. The necessity of separating the starch grains should be shown by experiments. EXPERIMENTS IN USING STARCH FOR THICKENING (Any powdered starch may be used) 1. Boil 1/4 cup of water in a small saucepan. While boiling, stir into it 1/2 tsp. of cornstarch and let it boil one minute. Observe the result. Break open a lump and examine it. 2. Mix 1 tsp. of cornstarch with 2 tsp. of cold water, and stir into 1/4 cup of boiling water. Note the result. 3. Mix 1 tsp. of cornstarch with 2 tsp. of sugar and stir into 1/4 cup of boiling water. Note the result. 4. Mix 1 tsp. of cornstarch with 2 tsp. of melted fat in a small saucepan and stir into it 1/4 cup of boiling water. Note the result. CONCLUSIONS BASED ON THE FOREGOING EXPERIMENTS 1. Starch granules must be separated before being used to thicken a liquid: (1) By adding a double quantity of cold liquid (2) By adding a double quantity of sugar (3) By adding a double quantity of melted fat. 2. The liquid which is being thickened must be constantly stirred, to distribute evenly the starch grains until they are cooked. BASIC RECIPE FOR LIQUIDS THICKENED WITH FLOUR. Milk Flour Butter Thin cream sauce 1 cup 1 tbsp. 1 tbsp. Thick cream sauce 1 cup 2 tbsp. 2 tbsp. NOTE.--Use thick cream sauce to pour over a food. Use thin cream sauce when solid food substance is mixed with the sauce. VARIATIONS OF BASIC RECIPE 1. Tomato sauce.--Use strained tomato juice instead of milk. 2. Vegetable sauce.--Use vegetable water in place of the milk. 3. Cheese sauce.--Use 1/3 to 1/2 cup of grated cheese in 1 cup of thick cream sauce. CREAM OF VEGETABLE SOUPS At least one practice lesson should be given on the making of these soups. The value of the vegetable water should be impressed upon the pupils, and it may be pointed out that these soups are an excellent way of using the cooking water and any left-over vegetable. The difference between tomatoes and other vegetables should be noted. Tomatoes are a fruit and, as such, contain an acid. The acid would curdle milk and must be neutralized by the use of soda, before milk can be added. [Illustration: Utensils used for cream soups] PRINCIPLES OF CREAM SOUPS 1. The liquid may be all milk, part vegetable water and milk, or all vegetable water. 2. The amount of flour used for thickening depends on the vegetable. Starchy vegetables need only 1/2 tbsp. to one cup of liquid; non-starchy vegetables need 1 tbsp. to a cup. 3. The ingredients are combined as follows: (1) The liquid is heated and thickened with flour. (2) The seasonings of butter, salt, and pepper are added. (3) The vegetable pulp is added in any desired quantity, usually about two tbsp. to one cup of liquid. A special recipe should be given for cream of tomato soup, so that the proportion of soda may be correct. NOTE.--If flavours of onion, bay-leaf, parsley, etc., are desired, these should be cooked with the vegetables, so as to be extracted in the vegetable water. OUTLINE OF LESSONS ON COOKING SEEDS CEREALS: WHEAT, OATS, CORN, RICE, RYE, BARLEY 1. Forms in which used: (1) Whole or cracked grains--rice, cracked wheat, coarse oatmeal, etc. (2) Granular--corn meal, cream of wheat, fine oatmeal, etc. (3) Rolled or flaked grains--wheat, oats, corn, rice, etc. (4) Powdered--wheat flour, rice flour, etc. 2. Cooking cereals for breakfast: For 1 cup of water use 1/4 tsp. of salt and the following cereal-- Whole or cracked--1/4 cup of cereal Granular--3 tbsp. of cereal Rolled or flaked--1/2 cup of cereal. Put salt and water in the inner part of a double boiler, and set directly over the fire. When steaming hot, gradually stir in the dry cereal, and keep stirring until the starch has thickened and boiled. Stir carefully, so as not to break the flakes of rolled cereals. Then set the inner dish inside the outer part of the double boiler, in which there should be boiling water, and cook from two to four hours. NOTE 1.--Rice has very tender cellulose and cooks in 3/4 hr. NOTE 2.--Rolled or flaked cereals have been steamed an hour or more to soften them for rolling, so require less cooking. NOTE 3.--Cereals may be cooked for breakfast the day before, but _should not be stirred while being re-heated_. LEGUMES: PEAS, BEANS, LENTILS 1. Forms in which used: (1) Ripe seeds (2) Meals--pea meal, etc. 2. Cooking of dried legumes: (1) Soak in cold, soft water for twelve hours or more, and then drain and rinse. Hard water may be softened by boiling, or by the addition of soda (1/8 tsp. of soda to 1 pt. of water). (2) Cook by _simmering_ in softened water until they are soft. (3) After simmering, the beans may be baked. NUTS Forms in which used: 1. Whole or broken nuts--used as dessert or in cakes, salads, etc. 2. Butters--ground and mixed with other ingredients to make a paste. 3. Meals--ground and used to thicken soups. SALADS The series of lessons on vegetable foods being finished, it is a good time to take a salad lesson. All salads were originally made from fresh young plants or salad greens, and though any food material is now used for the purpose, the subject seems to follow naturally the lessons on plant food. The pupils should derive unusual pleasure from this work. The dishes made are most attractive and appetizing, besides affording an opportunity for each member of the class to display individual artistic skill. None of the principles are new, so that the lesson will be really a review. The outline of notes for the class will be: INGREDIENTS OF SALADS 1. Salad plants _proper_, such as lettuce, water-cress, celery, cabbage 2. Cooked vegetables, such as peas, beans, asparagus, carrots, beets 3. Meat--cold, of any kind 4. Fish--cold, of any kind 5. Eggs--hard-boiled 6. Fruit 7. Combinations of the above in great variety. FOOD VALUES OF SALADS This depends on the ingredients. If salad greens only are used, the food value is mainly the mineral matter, but the dish will be refreshing and appetizing, and the oil, butter, or egg used in the dressing adds nutriment. Salads are prepared with little trouble and with no expense for fuel. PREPARATION OF SALAD INGREDIENTS 1. Have everything cold before combining. 2. Freshen the greens in cold water until crisp. 3. Meat, fish, and solid ingredients should be seasoned some time before using, so that they may absorb the flavours of the seasoning. 4. In most cases do not combine the ingredients with the dressing until just before serving. (1) Salad greens.--Wash thoroughly, and put in cold water until crisp, drain on a towel, wrap in a damp cloth, and put in a cool place. Cabbage and lettuce may be finely shredded. (2) Fruit and cooked vegetables.--Cut into cubes or suitable pieces. Chill and mix with the dressing, to absorb it. (3) Meats.--Remove the fat, skin, and gristle. Cut in cubes and chill. (4) Fish.--Remove the bones, flake, chill, and pour dressing over; but do not mix. DRESSINGS FOR SALADS 1. Cooked salad dressing: 2 tbsp. sugar 1/2 tsp. mustard 1/2 tsp. salt 1/4 cup vinegar 2 eggs 2 tbsp. butter. (1) Mix the first four ingredients in a saucepan and heat until dissolved. (2) Beat the eggs very light in a round-bottomed bowl, using a Dover egg beater. (3) Beat the vinegar mixture into the eggs. (4) Set the bowl, with its contents, over a dish of boiling water, then beat slowly and constantly until the mixture is thickened. (5) Lift the bowl from the heat _at once_. (6) Beat in the butter and set away to cool. (7) If desired, a half cup of whipped or plain cream may be added just before the dressing is used. 2. Uncooked salad dressing: 1/4 tsp. salt 1/8 tsp. pepper 4 tbsp. olive oil 2 tbsp. vinegar. (1) Stir the salt and pepper into the oil. (2) Add the vinegar slowly and stir vigorously until well blended and slightly thickened. (3) Serve with any salad made of salad greens. STUDY OF MINERAL FOOD As the study of mineral food involves a knowledge of chemistry, little more can be done in Junior classes than to teach that certain mineral compounds are required for the body, to point out their two main uses, and to lead the pupils to know the foods which generally supply these. Their attention should be directed to the fact that all mineral matter is found, in the first place, in the earth's crust, but that, with the exception of salt, animals cannot use it in that form. Plants can use it, and they absorb it from the soil; then we eat the plants, and in that way obtain the mineral substance, or we may obtain it by eating the animals which have eaten the plants. Water also, in making its way through the earth, may dissolve certain minerals and, by drinking the water, we obtain these. It will not be necessary to teach the names of the minerals which our food must supply, as most of these will mean nothing to the pupils. They might be asked to name one or two which are very familiar; for instance, the lime in bone and the iron in blood. They may be told that there are a few others which they will learn when they study chemistry in the high school. The pupils have already learned that mineral matter serves two main functions in the body: that is, _building_ and _regulating_, and it is a good plan to classify the well-known foods under these two headings. With a little guidance the pupils can do most of this for themselves. They know that milk serves all building purposes in a child's body, and must, therefore, contain mineral matter. Eggs build animal bodies, and must contain this substance also. Meat is the animal body that has been built, therefore meat has this substance; but we shall find in the meat lessons that there is no mineral matter in fat and that the cook cannot dissolve it out of bone, therefore muscle or lean meat must be eaten to obtain it. Seeds, too, contain building material for new plants; therefore, the building mineral matter must be stored in their cells. Hard water is known by the lime it contains, therefore this, if drunk, assists in the formation of bone. The class must be told that the mineral in the juices of plants is mainly for regulating purposes; that is, to keep our bodies in order, or as we say, healthy. When they get out of order, we usually go to a doctor to be regulated or made well. The medicine which he prescribes often contains some mineral in solution, perhaps iron. The mineral matter which is in the juices of plants, being a more natural form than the mineral matter in the medicine, is more easily made use of in the bodily processes. This is one reason why people should eat plenty of vegetables and fruit. Many springs also furnish water with large quantities of mineral matter in solution, which is used mainly for medicinal purposes. The pupils may know some places where we find such springs, and these should be mentioned, such as Preston Springs, Banff, and Mount Clemens, which have become health resorts through the presence of these waters. When the springs are in a distant country and their waters are known to contain a certain mineral which our bodies need, the water is bottled and shipped to us, and may be obtained from a druggist. Hunyadi Janos, Apenta, Vichy, and Apollinaris are well-known medicinal waters shipped from European springs. SUMMARY OF SOURCES OF MINERAL FOODS 1. Building mineral matter.--Milk, eggs, lean meat, seeds, hard water 2. Regulating mineral matter.--Fruit, vegetables, mineral waters, salt. NOTE.--This classification will be most useful to the pupils in preparing well-balanced meals in their diet lessons. DIET After studying in this elementary way the composition of the animal and vegetable foods, the pupils will be ready for simple lessons on diet. The class may now be said to have a working knowledge of the well-known foods, and they should be given a chance to use this knowledge, by combining and serving these foods for simple meals. REFERENCE TABLES OF FOOD CONSTITUENTS It will be helpful in this work, to guide the pupils in making out a reference table of the food constituents. This will give lists of food in which each constituent predominates, as follows: 1. Water: Beverages (water, milk, tea, coffee, cocoa), fruit, vegetables. 2. Mineral matter: (1) For building--milk, eggs (yolk and white), lean meat or fish, seeds, hard water (2) For regulating--fruit, vegetables, mineral waters. 3. Protein: Milk (curd), eggs (yolk and white), lean meat or fish, seeds. 4. Sugar: Fruit (juice), non-starchy vegetables (juice), milk (whey), commercial sugar. 5. Starch: Parts of plants which serve as storehouses: Tubers--potatoes, artichokes Roots--parsnip, tapioca, arrowroot Stem--sago Seeds--cereals, legumes, some nuts (peanuts, chestnuts). 6. Fat: Milk (cream), egg-yolk, meat or fish (fat), fruit, as the olive (oil), most nuts (walnut, butternut, pecan, peanut, etc.). Besides the necessary substances in food, the pupils must be told that there are other points for the housekeeper to consider when preparing the meals, namely: 1. The amount of each food substance required daily. 2. Special requirements of individuals according to: (1) age, (2) occupation, (3) climate, (4) season. Under 1, above, it may be explained, that when a meal is prepared which gives the body a correct proportion of each food substance, it is said to be well balanced. From numerous experiments the "Dietary Standard" for one day for a grown person has been calculated to be: Water--about 5 pints, two of which are taken in solid food Mineral matter--1 ounce Protein--3 to 4 1/2 ounces Fat--2 ounces Sugar and starch (together)--14 to 18 ounces. Although the pupils cannot be expected to follow this table accurately, from lack of sufficient knowledge, it will be of some assistance to them in choosing a combination of food for the home meals. Under 2, above, some of the variations of food are obvious, but some must be taught. Children require simple, nourishing food, which will contain plenty of protein and mineral matter for tissue building as well as much fuel food. Their diet should be varied and abundant. In old age the diet should also be simple, because of the lack of vigour in the digestive organs, but the amount of building material should be decreased. The food of old people should contain proportionately more carbonaceous material. Brain workers require less food than those engaged in active muscular work, and it should be less stimulating and less bulky. Their diet should be in a form that is easily digested. With the foregoing general ideas in mind, the pupils may be asked to prepare menus for simple home meals. These should be assigned as home work, so that plenty of time can be given to their consideration, and then they may be brought to the class for criticism. The best of these should be chosen for actual practice in school work. NOTE.--It is intended that this part of the work shall be presented in a very rudimentary way. The teacher should feel satisfied if she succeeds in implanting ideas of the importance of these food considerations, so that the pupils will be ready for more specific instruction to be gained in higher schools or from their own reading. Cheap bulletins on _Human Nutrition_, published by Cornell University, will be excellent reading on this subject. PREPARING AND SERVING MEALS Before the pupils are given a meal to prepare and serve, table setting should be reviewed, and the rules of table service taught as follows: RULES FOR SERVING 1. The hostess serves the soup, salad, dessert, tea, and coffee; the host serves the meat and fish. 2. Vegetables and side dishes may be served by some one at the table or passed by the waitress. 3. Dishes are served at the left of each person, commencing with the chief guest. 4. Guests are served first; ladies before gentlemen. 5. In each course, remove the dishes containing the food before removing the soiled plates. 6. When one course is finished, take the tray in the left hand, stand on the left side of the person, and remove the individual soiled dishes with the right hand, never piling them. 7. Before dessert is served, if necessary, remove the crumbs from the cloth with a brush, crumb knife, or napkin. 8. Tea or coffee may be poured at table or served from a side table by the waitress. NOTE.--Extra cutlery and napkins should be conveniently placed on a side table, in case of accident. Where the class consists of twelve or more pupils, it must be divided for the preparation and serving of a meal. Each section should prepare and serve a meal for the others, until all have had experience. As breakfast and luncheon are the simpler meals, they should be taken first in the order of lessons. The duties of the cooking and serving should be definitely settled, and each girl given entire responsibility for a certain part of the work. Those who are served should represent a family. Members should be chosen to act as father, mother, lady guest, gentleman guest, and children of varying ages, so that the duties and serving of each may be typified. CHAPTER VIII FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) CARE OF THE HOUSE The pupils of Form IV Junior should be urged to take entire care of their own bed-rooms. The Household Management teacher can do much to encourage them in this. She may include such work as part of the week's practice. The order of work should be discussed and planned by the pupils, the teacher guiding the class by her questioning. In lessons of this kind, the main work of the teacher is to ascertain what the pupil knows and to systematize her knowledge. A typewritten sheet of directions may be given each pupil to hang in her room, and may serve as an incentive to her to perform the duties outlined. DIRECTIONS FOR THE DAILY CARE OF A BED-ROOM 1. Open the window, if it has been closed during dressing. 2. Throw the bed-clothing over the foot of the bed, using a chair to hold it from the floor, or place it over two chairs near the window. 3. Put night clothing to air. 4. Put away any other clothing in drawers and closet. 5. Tidy and dust the top of the dressing-table. 6. Make the bed, after it has been aired at least half an hour. Once a week the following work should be added: 1. The blankets and comforter should be hung outside to air. 2. The mattress should be turned, and fresh bed-linen placed on the bed. 3. The room should be thoroughly swept and dusted. After the pupils have had training in the care of their bed-rooms, this experience, together with their lessons in cleaning, should enable them to keep any of the other rooms in the house in good order. It should be pointed out that, in these days of sanitary building and furnishing, there is no necessity for the semi-annual "housecleaning" of former times. Each week the house can be thoroughly gone over, with the exception of laundering curtains and washing wood-work, and these duties might be taken in turn, a room at a time every week, so that the work will not accumulate. The class should be taught to consider the economy of time and energy and encouraged to provide themselves with all the latest aids they can afford. The cleaning methods which are necessary for this work and which have not been formally taught, should now be definitely outlined. These are the weekly sweeping, weekly dusting, and cleaning special metals. DIRECTIONS FOR WEEKLY SWEEPING 1. Dust and put away all small articles. 2. Lift the small rugs, sweep them on both sides, out-of-doors if possible, and leave them to air. Rugs too large to take out should be brushed and folded over to allow of sweeping the under side and wiping the floor beneath. 3. Cover the furniture with dust sheets. 4. Shut the doors and open a window. 5. Begin at the side of the room farthest from the door and sweep toward the centre; sweep from the other side toward the centre; gather the dust in a dust-pan and empty it into the garbage pail or fire. 6. Put away the broom and dust-pan. 7. Leave the room shut up for a few minutes, in order to allow the dust to settle. 8. Use a "dustless" mop to dust the floor. DIRECTIONS FOR WEEKLY DUSTING 1. Use a soft cotton or cheesecloth duster very slightly dampened. 2. Roll up the covers that are over the furniture and carry them outside, in order to shake off the dust. 3. Wipe the dust from the furniture, pictures, window-sills, ledges, doors, and baseboard, being careful not to scatter it in the air. 4. Change the duster when necessary. 5. Replace the small articles. 6. Wash and dry the dusters. CARE AND CLEANING OF METALS IRON OR STEEL Utensils made of these are heavy, but strong and durable, and hold the heat well. 1. Care: They must be kept dry and smooth. Moisture causes rust, roughens the surfaces of the utensils, and makes them more difficult to clean. If they are not to be used for some time, the surfaces should be greased or coated with paraffin. 2. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot soap-suds, rinse in hot water, and dry thoroughly. (2) If food is burned on, scour with some gritty material or boil in a solution of washing soda, rinse in hot water, and dry thoroughly. TIN Utensils made of this are light and inexpensive; they are good conductors of heat, but they are also good radiators and lose heat quickly. 1. Care: As tinware is steel or iron coated with liquid tin, the grades vary according to the "base-metal" used and the thickness of the coating. Utensils made of this metal must be carefully kept from scratches, since deep scratches expose the base-metal and allow the formation of rust. 2. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot soap-suds, rinse, and dry thoroughly. (2) If food is burned on, boil in a weak solution of washing soda, rinse in hot water, and dry thoroughly. NOTE.--Whiting may be used to brighten the tin, but scouring is not recommended, as it wears off the coating. GRANITE AND ENAMEL WARE Utensils made of this are attractive, not heavy, and they do not tarnish or rust. 1. Care: These wares are made by coating steel or sheet-iron with a specially prepared glassy substance called enamel or glaze. Two or three coats are applied. The durability depends on the ingredients used in the glaze and on the number of coats applied. Such utensils should be heated gradually, scraped carefully, and handled without knocking, to avoid "chipping". 2. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot soap-suds. (2) If stained, use some scouring powder; wash and dry. (3) If food is burned on, boil in a solution of washing soda and then scour; wash and dry. ALUMINIUM Utensils made of this are very light in weight and, as they have no crevices, are easily cleaned. They are also good conductors of heat. 1. Care: This metal warps under a high temperature, and should, therefore, be used with care. Do not turn the gas on full, or, if used over wood or coal fires, be sure to leave the stove lid on. Some foods injure the metal, if they are allowed to remain in it very long. 2. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot water, with mild soap. Alkalies should not be used, as they darken the surface. (2) If food is burned on, the dish should be soaked in water and then scoured with bathbrick or emery powder. (3) Whiting may be used to brighten it. ZINC This is not used for utensils, but for table tops and for placing under stoves, etc. Cleaning: (1) Use hot water and mild soap. Alkalies and acids affect zinc and should be used with care. (2) If stained, rub with coal-oil or a paste made of coal-oil and soda, and then wash in hot water. GALVANIZED IRON This is used for garbage pails, ash pans, stove pipes, etc. It is made by dipping sheet-iron into melted zinc. Cleaning: The same as for zinc. COPPER OR BRASS Utensils made of these are heavy but durable and are good conductors of heat. They are dangerous, if not properly cleaned. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot water, using a little washing soda to remove any grease, rinse well, and dry. (2) If stained or tarnished, scour with salt and vinegar, then rinse thoroughly, and dry. SILVER This is used for spoons, knives, forks, and serving dishes, but never for cooking utensils, on account of its cost. It is the best conductor of heat among the house metals. Cleaning: (1) Wash in hot soap-suds. (2) If stained or tarnished, use whiting or silver polish, wash, and dry. RECIPE FOR SILVER POLISH 2 tbsp. borax 1 cup boiling water 1/2 cup alcohol whiting. 1. Dissolve the borax in the water. 2. When cold, add the alcohol and enough whiting to make a thin cream. 3. Bottle, and shake when used. NOTE.--The care and cleaning of the metals out of which ordinary utensils are made, such as granite ware, tin, and steel, may be taught incidentally as the utensils are used. CHAPTER IX FORM IV: JUNIOR GRADE (Continued) LAUNDRY WORK This work is but a continuation of the lessons on cleaning. It is the process of removing foreign matter from cotton, linen, woollen, or silk fabrics by the use of water and additional cleansing agents. It also includes the finishing of these materials by the use of blueing, starch, and heated irons, to restore as far as possible their original appearance. The principles of laundry work have been taught in the washing of dish cloths and towels, and now these principles have only to be extended to white cotton and linen clothes of any kind. The pupils may be asked to bring soiled articles of white linen or cotton from home for use at school in exemplifying the necessary processes. In schools which lack an equipment, these processes may be discussed in class and then practised at home. The teacher should choose from the following outline what is most suitable to the class: OUTLINE OF LESSONS ON THE WASHING OF WHITE COTTON AND LINEN CLOTHES LESSON I MATERIALS 1. Water: (1) Use: (_a_) To soften and dissolve certain foreign substances in the clothes. (_b_) To carry away all the foreign matter that has been dissolved or rubbed out of the clothes. (_2_) Kinds: (_a_) _Hard water_ (_b_) _Soft water_ For laundry purposes, the water should be soft. The quality known as hardness, which some water has, is due to the lime which it has dissolved in making its way through the earth. Water is said to be temporarily or permanently hard according to the kind of lime it has in solution. Temporarily hard water may be softened by boiling; the lime will be deposited, as may be seen in the "furring" of tea-kettles. Boiling has no effect in softening permanently hard water, so a substance known as an _alkali_ is used for this purpose. (3) Methods of softening water by alkalies.--For each gallon of water use one of the following: (_a_) One tablespoonful of borax or ammonia dissolved in one cup of water. (_b_) Two tablespoonfuls of a solution made by dissolving one pound of washing soda in one quart of boiling water. (_c_) One fourth tablespoonful of lye dissolved in one cup of water. 2. Alkalies (borax, ammonia, washing soda, lye): (1) Use: (_a_) To soften hard water (_b_) To assist in dissolving greasy substances. (2) Kinds: (_a_) _Borax._--This alkali is one of the mildest, and for this reason is less harmful to the clothing. It is useful when an alkali is required to soften water for coloured clothes or woollens. It also has a tendency to keep white clothes a good colour. (_b_) _Ammonia._--This also is a mild alkali, but is apt to "yellow" white materials. As it is very volatile, it should not be used unless the washing can be done quickly. (_c_) _Washing soda._--This is a cheap substance and stronger than borax or ammonia. It should be made into a solution before it is used, for fear of too great strength. (_d_) _Lye, or caustic soda._--This alkali is very strong and should be employed with great care. It must not be used except in weak solutions, otherwise it would entirely dissolve fabrics. It is not advisable for home laundry work. 3. Soap: (1) Use.--To act on greasy matter. Soap-suds penetrate fabrics more completely than water alone, and when the soap comes in contact with fatty material, it _emulsifies_ it, that is, very finely divides it into minute particles, so that it can be easily removed. If a soap is used that contains free alkali, this substance unites with the greasy impurities to form new soap which has cleansing value. (2) Kinds.--(_a_) Neutral, (_b_) medium, (_c_) strong. All soap is a compound of an alkali and fat, and according as one or the other of these substances predominates, the kind of soap is determined. When just enough alkali is used to completely _saponify_ the amount of fat, the product is called a neutral, or mild, soap. When an excess of alkali is present, the soap is termed medium or strong, according to the amount of free alkali it contains. A mild soap should be used when free alkali would be injurious, as in washing woollens or fabrics that have delicate colours. 4. Soap substitutes, or adjuncts: (1) Use.--To act alone or with soap in exerting a solvent action on greasy impurities, so that the cleansing process may be facilitated. (2) Kinds: (_a_) _Alkalies._--These must be used in excess of the amount needed for softening the water. (_b_) _Harmless solvents, such as turpentine, paraffin, coal-oil, gasolene._--The clothing must be well rinsed to get rid of any odour. (_c_) _Washing powders._--These are prepared mixtures of soap and some other solvent of greasy matter. 5. Blueing: (1) Use.--To make clothes which have a yellow tinge appear whiter in colour. (2) Kinds.--There are several kinds on the market, but the names of these will be of no value to the class. NOTE.--Sufficient blueing should be used to make the blueing water a pale sky-blue colour when a little of it is lifted in the hand. 6. Starch: (1) Use: (_a_) To stiffen fabrics and thus improve their appearance. (_b_) To give fabrics a glazed surface, so that they will shed dust and other impurities. (2) Kinds.--(_a_) Cold starch, (_b_) boiled starch. Raw starch does not give as durable a finish as cooked starch, but it does give greater stiffness. A fabric will take up more starch in the raw form, and the heat of the iron cooks the starch, thus producing the stiffness. The "body", or stiffness, produced by cooked starch is usually preferable, though on account of its preparation, it is not so convenient to use. (3) Recipes for starch-- (_a_) Cold Starch 2 tbsp. laundry starch 1/2 tsp. borax 2 cups cold water. Dissolve the borax in a little boiling water. Add the cold water gradually to the starch and mix thoroughly. Add the dissolved borax and stir well before using. (_b_) Boiled Starch 2 tbsp. starch 4 tbsp. cold water 1/2 tsp. lard, butter, or paraffin 1 qt. boiling water. Mix the starch with the cold water until free from lumps. Add the lard, then gradually stir in the boiling water, and keep stirring until thickened. Cook fifteen minutes and use hot. NOTE.--Borax in starch gives greater gloss and increases the stiffness. It also gives more lasting stiffness. Lard, butter, or wax is used to give a smoother finish and to prevent the starch from sticking to the iron. LESSON II PREPARATION FOR WASHING WHITE LINEN OR COTTON CLOTHES 1. Sort the clothes: (1) Table linen and clean towels (2) Bed and body linen (3) Handkerchiefs (4) Soiled towels and cloths. 2. Mend the clothes. 3. Remove stains. 4. Look after necessary materials. PROCESS OF WASHING WHITE LINEN OR COTTON CLOTHES _Steps_ _Method_ 1. Soaking: Wet the clothes; rub the soiled parts with soap and roll each article separately; pack in a tub, placing the clothing most soiled at the bottom; cover with warm soapy water and soak from one hour to over night. The soaking softens and loosens the fibres of fabrics, so that the foreign matter in them can be more easily separated. It also dissolves the soluble impurities in the fabrics. 2. Rubbing: Wring the clothes out of the soaking water, and place them in a tub of clean warm water or soap-suds; rub the soiled parts first on one side and then on the other, using the knuckles, a washboard, or a washing-machine. When each piece is clean, wring it tightly. The rubbing scrapes or rubs out the foreign matter which has been loosened by the soaking. 3. Rinsing: Shake out each piece and put it into a tub of clear water; rub, and move about in the water to get rid of any soiled water that the clothes may contain; wring tightly. 4. Boiling: Shake out each piece and place it in a boiler of cold water with or without soap; bring to boiling heat, and boil briskly for twenty minutes. The boiling kills any germs and assists in whitening the clothes. 5. Rinsing: Lift the clothes from the boiling water by means of a clothes stick and place them in a tub of clear, cold water; proceed as in the first rinsing. 6. Blueing: Open out each piece and place one or two at a time in a tub of blueing water for just a moment; wring tightly, and shake out each piece. The blueing tends to counteract any yellow tinge in the clothes, making them appear whiter. 7. Starching: Dip one piece at a time into the starch mixture until well saturated; then wring. Only certain articles or parts of articles will require this part of the process, to give them body or stiffness and, it may be, glossiness. 8. Hanging: Shake out each piece thoroughly; fasten to a clothes-line or hang on a rack to allow the moisture to evaporate. This should be out-of-doors in the sunlight if possible. REMOVAL OF STAINS Foreign matter which is difficult or impossible to remove by the ordinary washing process is called a _stain_. Such matter is not dissolved by the usual cleansing agents used in laundry work, such as water and soap, but requires some special solvent to act on it. The choice of the agent to be used will depend on the nature of the foreign matter to be removed. In some cases it is difficult to find an agent which will not act also on the colour of the fabric; in other cases to find one which does not injure the fibre of the goods. The pupils should be asked to give instances from their own experience where special solvents were used to remove stains, and be required to make a list of these. If necessary, the teacher should supplement this list with the names of other agents and the methods of using them. OUTLINE OF LESSONS ON THE WASHING OF WOOLLENS The washing of woollen materials is part of the Course for the work of the Senior Grade of Form IV, but, for the sake of convenience, the laundry lessons of both Grades of Form IV are outlined in one section of this Manual. Before allowing the class any practice in this branch of laundry work, it will be necessary for the teacher to make certain principles very clear: 1. That wool is an animal product. As such it tends to be shrunken and hardened by (1) heat, (2) alkalies. 2. That the surface of each wool fibre woven into woollen materials is seen under the microscope to be covered with notches, or scales. If these notches in any way become entangled, the material is thereby drawn up, or "shrunken". 3. That these notches may be entangled by: (1) Wetting the woollen material and then rubbing or twisting it. When the fibres are wet, they expand somewhat and the projecting scales, or notches, are loosened. If the material is rubbed at this time, the notched edges interlock. (2) The use of strong soaps or alkalies. These act chemically on the fibres and soften and expand them, causing the notched edges to become so prominent that they catch in one another. NOTE.--The structure of woollen fibres may be sketched on the black-board and compared with those of cotton and linen. To impress the foregoing principles, a few experiments will be found most useful. EXPERIMENTS WITH CLOTH MADE OF WOOL FIBRE 1. Boil a piece of new woollen cloth for five minutes. Dry, and compare with an original piece. 2. Saturate a piece of new woollen cloth with a strong solution of washing soda. Dry, and compare with an original piece. 3. Wash a piece of new woollen cloth in each of the following ways: (1) By rubbing soap directly on the cloth and then sousing the goods in the water. (2) By using a soap solution instead of the soap, as in (1). (3) By rubbing on a wash-board. In each case dry the cloth and compare with an original piece. After the results of the experiments have been discussed, the pupils may formulate a series of "points" to be observed in the washing of woollen fabrics. [Illustration: Cotton fibres magnified] [Illustration: Linen fibres magnified] [Illustration: Woollen fibres magnified] POINTS IN WASHING WOOLLENS 1. Use lukewarm, soft water. 2. Do not use strong soaps or alkalies. 3. Do not rub soap directly on the woollen material, but use soap solutions. 4. Do not rub or twist woollen cloth when it is wet. 5. Do not boil to sterilize. 6. Do not dry in extreme heat. STEPS IN WASHING WOOLLEN MATERIALS 1. Shake or brush the clothing to free it from dust. 2. Put it into lukewarm, soapy water to soak for a few minutes. 3. Wash on both sides by squeezing and sousing in the water. 4. Rinse in clear, lukewarm water; use several waters, if necessary, to remove the soap. 5. Pass through a loosely set wringer or squeeze the water out by hand. 6. Shake, in order to raise the woolly fibres. 7. Dry in a moderate temperature, in a wind, if possible. CHAPTER X FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE FOODS The Senior Fourth class is the preparatory class for entrance into the high school, and for many girls it is the final school year. For this reason the Course of this year should cover as many of the remaining household operations as possible. The training of the previous years should have formed good habits of work and have given experience in ordinary cleaning, and in the cooking and serving of the simple food materials. Through this training the pupils should also have been impressed with the value of food, and should have learned the sources of food and of all well-known household materials. The training of this last year, while continuing the Junior work, should also emphasize the household processes that require greater mental development to understand and greater practical skill to carry out. It is the border year between the public school and the high school, and must necessarily anticipate the elementary science of the latter. In this year more responsibility should be given to the pupils and more originality should be expected of them. Where they have hitherto followed recipes and been given rules, they should now follow principles and deduce rules. Of the several topics outlined in the Course for Form IV Senior, it is advisable to start with the preservation of food. Fruit and vegetables are most plentiful when the school year opens, and September is the most opportune month to preserve these for winter use. Facts concerning food preservation may have been taken incidentally in previous lessons, but now the subject should be systematically taught, so that canning, preserving, and pickling may be intelligently practised. PRESERVATION OF FOOD CAUSE OF DECAY The lesson may be introduced by referring to the unusual attention given to fruit at the time of ripening. The economical housekeeper takes certain foods when they are most plentiful and preserves them for use when they are not in season. Some foods require special care to keep them from decaying. The decay is caused by the action of microscopic plants called "bacteria", which get into the food. BACTERIA It is difficult for any one to get a correct conception of bacteria; especially is it so for children. The teacher should be most careful not to attempt to give the class unimportant details, but the few necessary facts should be made very clear and real. The following points should be impressed: 1. Bacteria are plants. (This fact should be kept clearly in mind.) 2. They are microscopic in size and hence the more difficult to deal with. 3. They are found everywhere that there is life--in the air, in water, in the soil. 4. They multiply very rapidly under favourable conditions. 5. Some bacteria are useful to the housekeeper; many kinds are her enemies. 6. Some of these enemies get into food and, growing there, cause a change in it--then we say the food is spoiled. CONDITIONS OF BACTERIAL GROWTH All plants have the same requirements. Any well-known plant may be put before the class to help them to think of these. They must be told that microscopic plants differ from other plants in one respect; they do not need light. Hence bacterial requirements are as follows: (1) water, (2) food, (3) air (oxygen), (4) heat. The class should be led to see that if any one of these conditions is removed, the remaining ones are insufficient for the plant's activity. MEANS OF OVERCOMING BACTERIA To the housekeeper, preserving food means overcoming bacteria. There are only two ways of doing this, either of which may be chosen: 1. Kill the bacteria in the food and exclude others. 2. Subject the food to conditions which are unfavourable for bacterial growth. In the first way, extreme heat is used to kill the bacteria in the food, and then while hot, the food is sealed to keep out other bacteria: Example, canning. In the second way, conditions are made unfavourable to the bacteria in the food, as follows: 1. The bacteria are deprived of water; the food is dried. 2. The bacteria are deprived of sufficient heat to be active; cold storage is used. 3. Large quantities of certain substances which are detrimental to the growth of bacteria are put into the food, and the bacteria become inactive. Examples: salt, sugar, spices, vinegar, smoke, or certain chemicals. When the lesson is finished, the class is ready to practise the principles it involves. The lessons on the special preservation of fruit may follow at once. [Illustration: Utensils used in canning] CANNING As canning is the method of preservation most commonly used, practice should be given in this method. In rural schools with a limited equipment, it may be that only one jar can be prepared. In other schools, it may be impossible to provide each pupil with material for work, on account of the expense. In the latter case, the materials may all be brought from home, or each pupil may bring her own jar and fruit, and the school supply the sugar. Instruction on the care of jars and the preparation of fruit and syrup must precede the practical work. CARE OF JARS 1. See that the jars are air-tight; partly fill the jar with water; place rubbers, covers, and rims; screw tightly, and invert. If any water oozes out, the jar is not air-tight. Often an extra rubber will correct the trouble. 2. Wash the jars thoroughly with the aid of a small brush. 3. Sterilize the jars in every part; dip them in boiling water, or place them on a rest (folded paper or wooden slats) in a kettle, to prevent the jars from touching the bottom. Fill and surround them with tepid water, then place them over heat until the water boils. Keep them in the boiling water until ready to fill with fruit. Dip the rubber bands in boiling water, but do not allow them to remain in it. Use new rubbers each season. 4. When filling the jars, place them on a folded cloth wrung out of warm water, then seal, and invert until cool. PREPARATION OF FRUIT Use fresh, sound fruit, not too ripe. 1. Berries.--Pick over, wash in a strainer, and hull. 2. Currants, gooseberries.--Pick over, wash, remove ends and stems. 3. Cherries.--Pick over, wash, remove stones and stems. 4. Plums.--Pick over, wash, remove stems, and prick three or four times with a silver fork, in order to prevent the steam bursting the skin. 5. Pears, apples.--Pick over, wash, pare, and, to prevent discoloration, keep in cold water until used. 6. Peaches.--Pick over, plunge into boiling water a few seconds (using a wire basket), then into cold water; peel; drop into cold water to prevent discoloration. SYRUP FOR CANNING Use about 1 cup of water for each pint can. No. 1 Syrup.--Equal parts of sugar and water, or 1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar. No. 2 Syrup.--1 1/2 cups of water and 1 cup of sugar. 1. Use No. 1 syrup for watery fruits and acid fruits. 2. Use No. 2 syrup for pears, peaches, sweet plums, sweet cherries, etc. METHODS OF CANNING 1. Fruit cooked in a steamer: Fill the sterilized jars with prepared fruit, with or without syrup. Place the covers, but do not fasten them down. Stand the jars in a steamer over cold water. Cover the steamer and heat to the boiling point. Steam at least fifteen minutes, or until the fruit is tender. Remove from the steamer, fill to overflowing with boiling syrup, and seal at once. Invert. 2. Fruit cooked in a boiler: Put a false bottom in the boiler, to prevent the jars from being broken. Fill the jars with fruit, and add syrup if desired. Cover and place the jars in the boiler without touching one another. Pour in tepid water to within an inch of the top of the jars and bring gradually to boiling heat. Cook and finish as directed in 1, above. 3. Fruit cooked in an oven: Fill sterilized, hot jars with prepared raw fruit and cover with hot syrup. Place the jars in a moderate oven, in a baking dish containing about an inch or two of hot water. Cook and finish as in 1, above. 4. Fruit cooked in a kettle: Make a syrup in a fairly deep kettle. Put the prepared fruit into it and cook gently until tender. When the fruit is cooked, lift carefully into hot, sterilized jars, and fill to overflowing with boiling syrup. Seal at once and invert. NOTE.--By Methods 1, 2, and 3 the fruit is kept more perfect in shape and loses less flavour than by Method 4. Methods 2 and 4 are best to choose for class practice. After the lesson in Canning, it may not be wise to take the school time for further practice in the preservation of fruit. When such is the case, the theory of jam and jelly making may be discussed in class for home practice. The notes of these lessons may appear as follows: JAMS AND PRESERVES POINTS IN MAKING JAM 1. In this method sugar is the preservative, therefore the amount used must be large. 2. The quantity of sugar used is from three quarters to one pound of sugar to each pound of fruit. Little or no water is used. 3. The natural shape and appearance of the fruit is not kept. 4. The flavour of the fruit is not so natural, on account of the excessive sweetness. 5. The jar need not be sealed, but merely covered. JELLY COMPOSITION OF JELLY 1. Jelly is made from certain fruit juices and sugar. 2. The fruit juice must contain a certain amount of _pectin_, or jellying principle, and also a certain amount of acid. PARTS OF FRUIT CONTAINING MOST PECTIN (1) Skin, (2) core, (3) pits and seeds. [Illustration: Utensils used in making jelly] FRUITS CONTAINING MOST PECTIN 1. Currants 2. Crab-apples, apples 3. Quinces 4. Cranberries, blackberries, raspberries 5. Grapes, if rather green. METHOD OF MAKING JELLY 1. Cut up the prepared fruit if necessary, and add barely enough water for cooking. 2. Set over the heat and simmer gently until the cellulose is very soft. 3. Turn into a jelly-bag, and drain for a number of hours or over night, in order to get rid of the cellulose. 4. Measure the drained juice and take the same quantity of sugar. 5. Heat the sugar in the oven. 6. Boil the juice gently and steadily for twenty minutes, skimming when required. 7. Add the hot sugar and boil very gently from three to five minutes, or until the mixture will jelly when tested. 8. Empty at once into hot glasses and set to cool. 9. When cold and firm, cover and set in a cool, dark place. METHODS OF COVERING JAM OR JELLY 1. Melt paraffin and pour a layer on each glass, cover with a tin cover or paper pasted with egg-white. 2. Cut clean, white paper to fit the glass, and lay on the jelly when it is firm and cold. Place the cover or paper as in 1, above. PICKLING Where the teacher finds it desirable, a lesson should now be given on pickling, with or without class practice. At least one or two good recipes may be given for home use. There are no new principles to teach. The use of vinegar, salt, and spices as preservatives should be reviewed. CHAPTER XI FORM IV: SENOR GRADE (Continued) COOKERY The first work in cookery, for this Form, should consist of practice lessons, which will test the ability of the class in cooking the simple animal and vegetable foods. The recipes used for these should be such as to attract the interest of the pupils, and each may be a combination of several food materials. Cream soups, custards, scalloped dishes, and shepherd's pie, would be useful for this purpose. It is desirable that this test shall be made in as few lessons as possible, because nearly all the time in cookery for this year will be required for the new work, namely, a series of lessons on flour mixtures. OUTLINE OF LESSON ON FLOUR Flour is a food substance ground into a powder. 1. Sources of flour: (1) Certain cereals--wheat, rye, barley, buckwheat, rice (2) Potatoes. 2. Kinds of flour made from wheat: (1) Graham flour--the entire wheat seed is ground. (2) Whole wheat flour--the first outer coat of cellulose with its valuable mineral contents is removed before the seed is ground. (3) White flour--only the central white part of the seed is ground. NOTE.--The pupils should be given specimens of fall wheat to examine, so as to compare the outer coat of cellulose with the central white part of the grain. 3. Composition of white flour: (1) Starch--a fine, granular, white substance (2) Gluten--a sticky, yellowish, elastic substance (a protein food). To find the substances in white flour, each pupil should mix half a cup of bread flour with enough cold water to make a dough. She must then be taught to knead it. This knowledge will be of use later in the bread lessons. After it is thoroughly kneaded until it is smooth and well blended, the dough should be washed in several waters. The first washing water should be poured into a glass and allowed to settle, to show the starch. After all the starch is washed away, the gluten will remain. The gluten may then be put into a greased pan and baked, to demonstrate that it admits of distention, and also to show that it may be stiffened permanently by heat into any distended shape. The baked gluten should be reserved to be used as a specimen in succeeding lessons. 4. Kinds of wheat flour: (1) Bread flour--contains much gluten. (2) Pastry flour--contains little gluten. NOTE.--Macaroni is a paste made from wheat flour which contains much gluten. 5. Tests for bread flour: (1) The colour is a deeper cream than pastry flour, on account of the larger amount of gluten which it contains. (2) When squeezed, it will not hold the impress of the hand. (3) When the flour is made into a dough and washed, about one fourth of the original quantity remains as gluten. OUTLINE OF SERIES OF LESSONS ON FLOUR MIXTURES LESSON I 1. Meaning of flour mixtures: A lightened mixture of flour and liquid, with or without other ingredients, is called a flour mixture. 2. Kinds of flour mixtures: (1) Batters.--(_a_) Pour batters--pancakes, popovers (_b_) Drop batters--cake (2) Doughs.-- (_a_) Soft dough--cookies, baking-powder biscuits, doughnuts (_b_) Stiff dough--pastry. 3. Methods of mixing flour mixtures: (1) Stirring.--A roundabout movement which simply mixes the ingredients. (2) Beating.--An upright, circular movement, which incorporates air into the ingredients while being mixed. (3) Folding.--A slow, careful beating, which blends the ingredients without loss of the air they contain. (4) Kneading.--A movement of the hands to blend the ingredients and also to incorporate air. (5) Cutting.--A hacking movement of a knife to mix fat through flour. 4. Framework of flour mixtures: (1) Gluten (2) Gluten and egg-white. To show the framework, the gluten baked in the flour lessons should be used. It should be pointed out as the skeleton of the mixture which upholds the entire structure and on which the other ingredients depend. To have light mixtures, this framework must admit of being expanded and also of being stiffened permanently into the stretched shape. Since egg-white has both of these necessary qualities, it may be used for a framework either alone or in combination with gluten. It should also be observed that a mixture of ingredients light in weight does not prevent the framework from rising as much as heavy ones do. The pupils will see that the framework of a mixture must increase in size in order to make the mixture light, but it must be made very clear that, while heat stiffens any framework, it will not distend it. Some other agency is required for this. 5. Lightening agents used in flour mixtures: (1) Air.--Incorporated by beating, kneading, and sifting. (2) Steam.--Incorporated in the form of a liquid which, when heated, changes to steam. (3) Carbonic acid gas.--Formed in the mixture by the chemical union of soda with some acid. Examples: soda and sour milk; soda, cream of tartar and water; soda and molasses. The lightening agents, air and steam, may be taught from the samples of baked gluten. Experiments will show how to produce the carbonic acid gas. Experiments: 1. Put into a thick glass 1/8 tsp. of soda and 1/4 tsp. of cream of tartar. Mix, and note the result. Stir in 1/8 cup of cold water, and note the result. 2. In No. 1, use hot water in place of cold, and note the result. 3. Put 1/4 cup of sour milk in a glass. Stir into the milk 1/4 tsp. of soda, and note the result. 4. Put 1 tbsp. of molasses in a glass. Stir into the molasses a pinch of soda, and note the result. Baking-powder: It may now be explained that, for the sake of convenience, soda and cream of tartar may be obtained already mixed, in accurate proportions of two parts of acid to one of the soda. This mixture is known as baking-powder. As very little moisture is necessary to start the action of the powder, a little cornstarch is added to it to keep it dry. For the same reason, it should always be kept tightly covered. Soda is made from common salt and is cheap, but the source of cream of tartar makes it expensive, so that good baking-powder cannot be low priced. If such be advertised, it is usually adulterated. As soon as the foregoing principles of flour mixtures are understood, they should be put into practice. The lessons on cake, bread, and pastry should follow in the order named, with as much practical work in connection with each as the time will allow. CAKE MAKING LESSONS II AND III 1. Classes of cake: (1) Cakes without butter.--These mixtures contain no heavy ingredients and have little weight depending on the framework. They are lightened by air and steam only. Examples: sponge cake, angel cake. (2) Cakes with butter.--These are mixtures having ingredients of greater weight; and the three lightening agents--air, steam, and carbonic acid gas are used to raise them. Examples: pound cake, chocolate cake, nut cake, etc. NOTE.--Practice should be given in making at least one of each kind of cake, to demonstrate the method of mixing employed. 2. General directions for making cake: (1) Attend to the fire, so as to have the oven at a proper heat. (2) Grease the pans thoroughly; greased paper may be used to line the bottom of the tin, but, in the case of fruit cake, the whole tin should be lined. (3) Have everything ready, so that the mixing may be quickly done. (4) Use pastry flour. (5) Use fine granulated sugar to ensure its being dissolved. (6) Blend the ingredients thoroughly, and at the same time incorporate as large an amount of air as possible. (7) Fill the pan about two-thirds full, pushing the mixture well to the corners and sides, so as to leave a depression in the centre. (8) Attend carefully to the baking. 3. General rules for mixing cake: (1) Cake without butter-- (_a_) Separate the yolks and whites of the eggs. (_b_) Beat the yolks until thick and lemon-coloured. (_c_) Add sugar to the yolks gradually and continue beating; add the flavouring. (_d_) Beat the whites until stiff and dry, then _fold_ them into the first mixture. (_e_) Gradually sift and fold in the flour until well mixed. (2) Cake with butter-- (_a_) Cream the butter by working it with a wooden spoon. (_b_) Add the sugar gradually by stirring it in. (_c_) Beat the eggs until light, and add to the first mixture. (The eggs may be separated and the whites added later.) (_d_) Add the liquid and beat until the sugar is thoroughly dissolved. (_e_) Mix the flour and baking-powder in a sifter and gradually sift and beat it into the mixture until it is thoroughly blended. (Liquid and flour may be added alternately.) (_f_) Fold in the stiffly beaten whites, if the eggs have been separated. (_g_) If fruit, peel, nuts, etc., are used, they should be floured out of the quantity allowed for the cake and added last. 4. General directions for baking cake: (1) Small, thin cakes should be baked in a hot oven. Examples: cookies, layer cake. (2) All loaf cakes require a moderate oven. (3) In baking cakes, divide the time stated in the recipe into quarters as follows: First quarter--mixture should begin to rise. Second quarter--mixture should continue rising. Third quarter--mixture should begin to brown and to stiffen into shape. Fourth quarter--mixture should finish browning and stiffening and shrink slightly from the sides of the pan. (4) Mixture is cooked when a slight pressure leaves no dent, or when a small skewer or fine knitting-needle put into the centre comes out clean and dry. To the inexperienced minds of the girls in the Fourth Form, to whom the study of flour mixtures is new, the number and variety of these seems very large. All cook books give an almost endless collection of recipes for cakes, cookies, muffins, etc., and to the pupils each of these seems an entirely new mixture. In reality, many of them are but slight variations of the same type. A certain mixture of materials is used for a foundation, and numerous varieties are made from this by addition, subtraction, or substitution of ingredients. The original mixture is called a _basic recipe_. Instead of teaching isolated mixtures, it will be found an excellent idea to give the class the basic ingredients for a recipe and encourage them to suggest variations, either original or from memory. Typical basic recipes for cake and biscuits are given below: BASIC RECIPE FOR CAKE 1/4 cup butter 3/4 cup sugar 2 eggs 1/2 cup milk 1 1/2 cup flour 1/4 tsp. salt 2 tsp. baking-powder 1/2 tsp. vanilla. VARIATIONS OF BASIC RECIPE FOR CAKE 1. Spice cake: To the basic recipe add 1 tbsp. of spice. Sift in the spice with the flour. 2. Nut cake: Add 1/2 cup of chopped nuts. Increase the baking-powder by one third. Put a little of the flour on the nuts and beat them in at the last. 3. Fruit cake: Add 3/4 cup of currants, raisins, figs, or dates, or a mixture of all. Increase the baking-powder by one third. Flour the fruit and add it last. 4. Chocolate cake: Add 1/2 cup grated chocolate. Increase the milk by 2 tbsp. Heat the chocolate in the milk just enough to dissolve it. Cool the mixture and use in place of milk. BASIC RECIPE FOR BISCUITS, ETC. 2 cups flour 1/2 tsp. salt 4 tsp. baking-powder 2 tbsp. fat (butter, lard, or dripping) About 2/3 cup milk. VARIATIONS OF BASIC RECIPE FOR BISCUITS 1. Sweet biscuit: Add 2 tbsp. of sugar after the fat is added. 2. Fruit biscuit: Add 2 tbsp. of sugar and 1/2 cup of fruit, (currants, raisins, peel, or a mixture of all) after the fat is added. 3. Scones: Add 2 tbsp. of sugar, and use one egg and only 1/2 cup of milk. Beat the egg until light, add to milk, and use this for liquid. Form into round cakes about eight inches in diameter, and cut into quarters. 4. Fruit scones: Add 1/2 cup of fruit to the scone recipe. 5. Short cake for fruit: Same as scones, but double the amount of fat. 6. Dumplings for stews: Use the basic recipe, leaving out the fat. 7. Steamed fruit pudding: Use the basic recipe to make the dough that incases the fruit. BREAD MAKING In beginning the bread lessons, it will be found that there are no new principles to teach. It will, however, be necessary to explain the new means of producing gas which is used in this particular mixture, namely, yeast. From their lessons on the "Preservation of Food" and "Canning", the pupils are already acquainted with one class of microscopic plants. The little plants, in that case, were a source of great inconvenience to the housekeeper. Yeast may be introduced as another family of one-celled plants, but one which is most useful. Under good conditions these tiny plants will produce a large amount of carbon dioxide gas, provided they are given sufficient time. If, however, the gas be required quickly, soda and acid must be used. For this reason, plain flour mixtures, in which the carbon dioxide is quickly made, are called quick breads, to distinguish them from breads in which yeast is used. Examples of these are baking-powder biscuits, gems, corn-bread, etc. The use of yeast is the simplest and cheapest way of obtaining carbonic acid gas, and mixtures so made remain moist longer than those in which baking-powder is used. Throughout the introductory lesson, this fact must be kept prominently before the class, that yeast is a plant and, as such, requires plant conditions. The necessary conditions will be known from the lesson on "Bacteria", so that they have only to be reviewed. The pupils may be told that although they cannot see the plants, they can very plainly see the bubbles of gas which the plants give off when the latter are made active under favourable conditions. LESSON I OUTLINE OF LESSONS ON YEAST 1. Description of yeast: Yeast is a one-celled plant which can be seen only with a microscope. Under good conditions it becomes very active and multiplies rapidly by a process called _budding_. It is used by the housekeeper for the carbonic acid gas it gives off. [Illustration: Yeast plants magnified] 2. Conditions necessary for the activity of yeast: (1) Oxygen (2) Water (3) Food.--This must be sugar, or starch which it will change into sugar. Potato starch is more easily used by yeast than flour starch. It uses also some nitrogenous food and mineral matter. (4) Heat.--The yeast plant thrives in a heat of about the same temperature as our bodies. A little extra heat will only make it grow faster; but excessive heat will kill it. Freezing will not kill the plant, though cold makes yeast inactive. 3. Sources of yeast: Yeast was first found as _wild yeast_ in the air, but now it may be obtained at grocery stores, in three forms: (1) Liquid yeast.--The plants are put into a starchy liquid. This will keep only a few days, as the starch sours. (2) Dry yeast.--The plants are put into a starchy paste and the mixture is dried. This form will keep for months, because it is perfectly dry but, for the same reason, it takes the plants a long time to become active when used. (3) Compressed yeast.--The plants are put into cakes of a starchy mixture and left moist. They will keep only a few days. Good compressed yeast is a pale fawn colour, smells sweet, breaks clean, and crumbles easily. 4. Experiments with yeast: Make a _yeast garden_ by using the plants obtained at the grocery store as follows: Take half a cup of lukewarm water to give the plants moisture, a teaspoonful of sugar for immediate food, and the same of wheat starch (flour) for a reserve food. Beat the mixture to infold oxygen, and then put in one-quarter cake of yeast plants. Divide the mixture among a number of test-tubes, so that each group of four pupils has three. (1) Place one test-tube in warm water and heat to boiling. (2) Place one test-tube in water which feels warm to the hand. (3) Place one test-tube in cracked ice and freeze the mixture. Afterwards thaw, and place the same test-tube in lukewarm water. Observe the results, and compare the amount of gas formed under the different conditions. LESSON II PRACTICAL BREAD-MAKING Ingredients of plain bread: 1. Liquid.--(1) It wets the mixture and causes the ingredients to adhere. (2) It furnishes steam for a lightening agent. (3) It allows the gluten to become sticky and elastic. (4) It furnishes moisture for yeast plants. 2. Yeast.--It gives off carbonic acid gas, which lightens the mixture. 3. Salt.--(1) It gives a flavour. (2) It retards the growth of the yeast plant. 4. Flour.--(1) It thickens the mixture. (2) It supplies food for the yeast plant. (3) It supplies gluten for a framework for the mixture. Amount of ingredients for one small loaf: Liquid--1 cup or 1/2 pt. Salt--1/2 tsp. Flour--About three times the amount of liquid Yeast--Amount depends on the time given the bread to rise, as follows: 12 hr. to rise 5 hr. to rise 3 hr. to rise 1/4 yeast cake 1/2 yeast cake 1 yeast cake NOTE.--One cake of compressed yeast contains about the same number of yeast plants as one cake of dry yeast or one cup of liquid yeast. Process in making bread: (1) Mixing (stirring, beating, and kneading).-- (_a_) This mixes the ingredients. (_b_) It incorporates air to aid the yeast plant and to act as a lightening agent. (_c_) It makes the gluten elastic. (2) First rising.--This allows the yeast plants conditions and time to produce carbonic acid gas, until the dough is distended to twice its original size. (3) Moulding.--(_a_) This distributes the gas evenly throughout the loaf. (_b_) It shapes the loaf. (4) Second rising.--This again allows the yeast plants time to produce gas which will distend the dough to twice its size. (5) Baking.--(_a_) The heat of the oven expands the air and gas in the dough, which causes the gluten framework to distend. (_b_) The water changes to steam, which becomes another agent in distending the gluten. (_c_) The starch on the outside of the loaf becomes brown in the dry heat of the oven, while the inside starch is made soluble in the moist heat of the mixture. (_d_) The gluten stiffens into the distended shape. (_e_) The yeast plants are killed. In this lesson, after deciding on the necessary ingredients, the pupils may be told the amount of each to use for their class work. They should then measure and mix these ingredients and set the dough away for the first rising. While the bread is rising, the kitchen may be put in order and the other steps of the process reasoned out and written. Other school work must be taken then, until the dough has fully risen, when the process may be completed. After each stage of the process has been carried out, the notes on it may be written. With the foregoing principles of bread-making in mind, the class should be able to make any bread mixture. Each pupil should have entire responsibility for the process of making one small loaf of plain bread. About half a cup of liquid, mixed with the other necessary ingredients, makes a good-sized loaf for practice. Smaller loaves than this give little chance for manipulation. In Household Management centres, where the pupils come from other schools for the lesson period only, the process will have to be divided into two lessons. The first lesson may include the first two stages--mixing and first rising--each pupil using small quantities, say for one eighth of a loaf of the ordinary size. At the end of the lesson, they may carry their dough home for completion, or it may be used by another class which is ready for the later steps of the process. The second lesson will include the last three steps--moulding, second rising, and baking--and it will be necessary for the teacher to have dough prepared for the moulding stage when the class arrives. LESSON III FANCY BREADS These mixtures are but variations of plain bread. The extra ingredients, such as milk, eggs, butter, spices, sugar, currants, raisins, peel, etc., are added at the most convenient stage of the process. NOTE.--If there is not time to have one fancy bread, such as Parker House rolls or currant bread, made in school, recipes for these may be discussed in class and the work done at home. THE BREAD-MIXER 1. This utensil mixes and beats the bread by means of a large beater turned with a handle, thus avoiding the use of the hands for this purpose. 2. It does this work with less energy and in a much shorter time than if the hands were used. 3. It can be used only for the first two steps of bread-making, namely, _mixing_ and _first rising_. 4. The ingredients must all be put in at once; hence, they must be accurately measured. 5. The amount of ingredients may be learned by calculation from previous bread-making done in the old way, or by using the book of recipes accompanying each mixer. NOTE.--There are several good kinds of bread-mixers which may be bought in three sizes. Small size makes 1 to 2 loaves and costs $1.35 (about). Medium size makes 2 to 6 loaves and costs $2.00 (about). Large size makes 4 to 10 loaves and costs $2.50 (about). PASTRY Pastry is one of the simplest flour mixtures, and one that has the lowest food value. The intimate blending of butter or lard with the flour envelopes the starch grains with fat, and makes the mixture difficult to digest. The same thing occurs in frying food and in buttering hot toast; so the idea is not a new one to the class. In introducing the lesson on pastry, this principle of digestion should be reviewed, and it should be made plain that delicate pudding and seasonable fruits are a much better form of dessert. There are no new principles to teach, but some old ones to impress. The object of the housekeeper should be to make a mixture that is light and one that will fall to pieces easily. To ensure the latter, anything that would toughen the gluten must be avoided. From the bread lesson, the pupils have learned that working the water into the gluten or much handling of flour after it is wet, makes a mixture firm and tough. In pastry there must be enough gluten to stick the ingredients together, but its elastic quality is undesirable. For the latter reason also, a small amount of water is used. In the cake mixtures, it was found that the use of fat in the "butter cakes" made the framework tender and easily broken, so in pastry the same means may be employed. Fat of some kind is mixed with the flour to act on the gluten and destroy its toughness. Air and steam are the only lightening agents commonly used in pastry. Since cold air occupies less room than warm air and admits of more expansion, it is desirable that the mixture be kept very cold. The low temperature also prevents the fat melting; hence, the necessity for the use of cold utensils and materials throughout the process. OUTLINE OF LESSON ON PASTRY 1. Ingredients: (1) Flour, (2) salt, (3) fat, (4) water. 2. Notes on flour: (1) Use only pastry flour, which will have a small amount of gluten. (2) After the flour is wet, handle the mixture as little as possible, to avoid working the water into the gluten and making it tough. 3. Notes on fat: (1) Fat is used to destroy the elasticity of the gluten, so that it will not be tough when cooked. (2) Butter, lard, or dripping may be used. (3) Lard makes more tender pastry than butter. (4) Butter gives the best flavour. (5) Half butter and half lard makes a good mixture. (6) Layers of fat may be put in between layers of pastry, to separate it into flakes. (7) If two fats are used, the softer is cut into the flour, and the harder one laid on the paste and folded in. 4. Notes on water: (1) Use the water as cold as possible. (2) Use the least amount of water necessary to make the ingredients adhere. 5. Lightening agents used in pastry: (1) Air.--(_a_) This should be as cold as possible. (_b_) The air may he folded in, between layers of pastry. (2) Steam. 6. Kinds of pastry: (1) Plain pastry.--In this, one quarter to one third as much fat as flour is used, and it is all "cut in". (2) Flaky pastry.--In this, the same amount of fat is used as in plain pastry, but half of it is "laid on" and folded in. (3) Puff pastry.--In this, one half as much fat as flour, up to equal parts of each is used; one quarter of the fat is cut in, and the remainder is laid on and folded in. 7. Amount of ingredients for plain pastry for one pie: 1 1/2 cup pastry flour; 1/4 tsp. salt; 1/2 cup fat (lard and butter); ice water. CHAPTER XII FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) MEAT As meat is rather a complex food the teaching of which involves a good many lessons, and as it does not lend itself as well as other foods to the making of dishes useful in practice work, it seems wise to defer the study of it until the Senior Form is reached; the ability and home needs of the pupils should decide this. The season of the year should also be considered. It is wiser to take meat lessons in cold weather because it is then more pleasant to handle and easier to keep. The latter consideration is important in some rural districts, where shops are not convenient. More preparation is needed for the first meat lesson than for most foods. Some days before, thin bones such as leg or wing bones of fowl, or rib bones of lamb should be soaked in diluted hydrochloric or nitric acid (one part acid to ten of water), to dissolve the mineral substance which gives the bone its rigidity. Any time before the lesson, a large solid bone of an old animal, such as a knee or hip joint of beef, should be burned for hours to get rid of the connective tissue which holds the mineral substance in shape. This should be carefully done, in order to retain the shape of the bone and to show the porous formation of the mineral substance. If the bone is not blackened by the fire, its white colour will also indicate the lime of which it is formed. On the day of the lesson it will be necessary to have a piece of meat showing the three parts--fat, bone, and muscle. A lower cut of the round of beef has all these parts, and the muscle is sufficiently tough to show its connective tissue plainly. For the study of fat, a piece of suet is best, as it can be easily picked apart to show its formation. In examining fat meat and lean meat it is essential that, at least, every two pupils have a piece, as close scrutiny is necessary. One or two samples of bone will suffice for the class. No definite amount of work can be laid down for any one lesson. The interest and ability of the class must be the guide. In rural schools, the time of each lesson must be comparatively short, though no Household Management teacher should spend more than forty minutes on purely theoretical work without a change of some kind. The following is an outline of the facts to be considered in this particular study: LESSON I 1. Names of meat: (1) Beef, from the ox or cow. The best meat comes from an animal about four years old. (2) Veal, from the calf. It should be at least six weeks old. (3) Mutton, from the sheep. Spring lamb is from six to eight weeks old; yearling is one year old. (4) Pork, from the pig. (5) Fowl, poultry--chicken, turkey, duck, goose. (6) Game, wild animals--deer, wild duck, partridge, etc. 2. Parts of meat: (1) Fat.--(_a_) Inside fat, around the internal organs, usually called kidney fat, or suet. (_b_) Outside fat, next the skin, called caul fat. (2) Bone, (3) muscle, or lean meat. 3. Composition of fat: (1) Connective tissue, (2) true fat, (3) water. Fat should be the first part studied, because it is the simplest tissue and the parts are most plainly seen. Pick the specimen apart, and the tissue that holds it together is found. Its name is easily developed from its use. The water may be shown by heating pieces of fat in a small saucepan and, when it becomes hot, covering the dish with a cold plate. Remove the plate before it gets heated, and moisture will be condensed on its surface. The presence of water in fat may also be reasoned out by remembering that water enters into the composition of all body tissues. 4. Composition of bone: (1) Mineral matter (lime), (2) connective tissue, (3) water. Neither the mineral substance nor the connective tissue in bone can be seen until either one or the other is eliminated. Strike the fresh bone with a steel knife, and it shows the quality of hardness. Bones are built from food, and the only food substance that is so hard is mineral matter. Show the burned bone, with only the mineral matter left, and let each pupil examine it. Its formation indicates the spaces which the part burned out of it occupied. Let it fall or crush part of it in the fingers, to show how easily it is broken. Such bones would be no use as a framework to support the body. The bones of very old persons get too much like this, and we are afraid to have such people fall. The burned bone needs something to hold it together--a connective tissue. Such a tissue was in the spaces before the bone was burned. Show the bone after it has been prepared in an acid solution, with only the connective tissue left. Explain how it was prepared. Bend it to show its pliability. To be of use in the body it needs some substance to make it hard and rigid--the mineral matter which was dissolved out. NOTE.--This is an excellent time to show the necessity for bone-building mineral in the diet of babies and young children. If they do not get this mineral substance during the growth period, they cannot have hard, rigid bones, and their bodies are apt to become misshapen--bow legs, curved spines, etc. This substance is also necessary for hard, sound teeth. Draw attention to the fact that the mineral matter in milk and eggs is in solution, and therefore ready to be used by the body. Mineral matter is not in solution in bone, and cannot be dissolved by the digestive process, therefore it is practically of no use as food. Compare the connective tissue of bone with that of fat, and let the pupils account for the difference in thickness. Lead them to see that connective tissue can be dissolved in hot water, and in this way may be extracted from the mineral part of bone. The housekeeper may do this herself, or she may buy it already extracted, as gelatine. 5. Composition of muscle: (1) Connective tissue (2) Red part, made up of microscopic tubes holding a red juice. The juice contains: (_a_) Water (_b_) Red colour (_c_) Flavour (_d_) Muscle albumen--a protein substance similar to egg-white (_e_) Mineral matter. [Illustration: Muscle fibres highly magnified Bundle of fibres. Tubes of one fibre. Proper carving of fibres--across the grain.] It should be made clear that the walls of such tiny tubes can never be thick enough to be tough. Attention should be called to the real cause of toughness--the thick connective tissue. NOTE.--Very small pieces of meat will serve for specimens. Tough meat is better, because it shows the connective tissue more plainly. When the muscle is being examined, it should be carefully scraped with a knife, until a layer of connective tissue is laid bare. The red part that is scraped off should be explained, and a drawing should be made to illustrate it. Minced lean beef should he soaked in a little cold water for at least twenty minutes, to extract the muscle juice for examination. The juice should be strained through a cheesecloth and poured into a glass. It shows nothing but water and a red colour. In order to find the other substances, pour part of the juice into a small saucepan and heat it gradually until it boils gently. The red colour will disappear, and the albumen which is dissolved in the juice will coagulate and become plainly visible. The pupils will recall that egg-white was affected in the same way by heat, and may be told that this coagulated substance is similar to egg-white, and is called muscle albumen. The odour given off by heating suggests that the flavour is also in the muscle juice, hence the importance of conserving this juice in the cooking process. Strain the boiled juice to get rid of the coagulated albumen and then examine the liquid that is left. Its colour plainly denotes mineral matter in solution. LESSON II 6. Meat experiments: If time permit, the following experiments may be taken. The facts which these experiments prove may, however, be developed in a much shorter time by questioning: (1) Cut lean meat into small pieces, cover them with cold water and let them stand. Note the colour of the water. (2) Cover a piece of lean meat with boiling water and let it stand. Note the colour of the water. (3) Sprinkle a piece of meat with salt. What happens? (4) Wrap a piece of meat for a few minutes in ordinary brown wrapping-paper. What happens? (5) Simmer a small piece of very tough meat for about an hour and then examine the connective tissue. (6) Boil or bake a small piece of very tough meat and then examine the connective tissue. 7. Selection of meat: (1) All flesh should be uniform in colour, of a fine grain, and firm and springy to the touch. (2) Beef should be bright red in colour, well mottled, and surrounded with fat. (3) Mutton should be a dull red, and its fat white, hard, and flaky. (4) Lamb is lighter in colour than mutton, and the bone is redder. (5) Veal has pinkish-coloured flesh and white fat. Very pale veal is not good. (6) Pork should have firm flesh of a pale red colour. The skin should be white and clear, the fat white. (7) Poultry: (_a_) Chickens.--Young chickens have thin, sharp nails; smooth legs; soft, thin skin; and soft cartilage at the end of the breastbone. Long hairs denote age. (_b_) Turkeys.--These should be plump, have smooth, dark legs, and soft cartilage. (_c_) Geese.--These should be plump and have many pin feathers; they should also have pliable bills and soft feet. 8. Care of meat: (1) Remove the meat from the wrapping paper as soon as it arrives, to prevent the loss of juices. The butcher should use waxed paper next to the meat. (2) Wipe the meat all over with a damp cloth, but do not put it into water. (3) Place the meat on an earthen or enamel dish, and set it in a cool place until required. (4) Frozen meat should be thawed in a warm room before being cooked. LESSON III 9. General ways of preparing meat: (1) Extracting certain substances.--(_a_) Soup--substances extracted in water from lean meat, bone, and fat. (_b_) Beef-tea--substances extracted in water from lean meat. (_c_) Bouillon--substances extracted in water from lean meat and flavoured with vegetable. (_d_) Beef juice--juices extracted from lean meat by heat only, or by pressure. (2) Retaining all substances.--Roasts, boiling pieces, steaks, chops, cutlets. (3) Retaining part and extracting part.--Stews. 10. Notes on tough meat: (1) The toughness of meat depends on the thickness of the connective tissue holding the muscle tubes together. [Illustration: Cuts of beef 1. Neck, stews and soup. 2. Chuck ribs, cheaper roasts. 3. Prime ribs, very good roasts. 4. Loin, best steaks or roasts (sirloin, tenderloin, porterhouse). 5. Rump, roasts and steak. 6. Brisket, stews or corned beef. 7. Fore shank, soup. 8. Shoulder, stews or pot-roasts. 9. Short ribs, stews or cheap roasts. 10. Navel, corned beef. 11. Plate, stews or corned beef. 12. Flank, stews or corned beef. 13. Round, steaks. 14. 2nd cut round, stews and soup. 15. Hind shank, stews and soup. 16. Tail, soup.] [Illustration: Bony structure] (2) The connective tissue is made thick and tough by two causes.--(_a_) Age--in old animals the connective tissue has grown thick. (_b_) Exercise--in certain parts of the body, where muscles are much used, these muscles must be more firmly bound together, as in the neck and legs, etc. (3) Dry heat will harden connective tissue, making it more difficult to cut and chew; therefore tough cuts should not be cooked in dry heat. (4) Moist heat will soften and finally dissolve connective tissue, making it easy to cut and chew; therefore tough cuts should be cooked in moist heat. (5) Tough meat is more abundant in an animal's body, and is, therefore, cheaper than tender meat. (6) Tough meat has richer juices than tender meat and should be used for soup, broth, and beef-tea. 11. Digestibility of meat: (1) The less muscle juice is coagulated by heat, the more easily it is digested. (2) Because of their close texture, the liver, kidney, and heart of animals are more difficult to digest. (3) Mutton and lamb, because of their shorter fibres, are more easily digested than beef. (4) Veal is difficult to digest, owing to its stringy fibres. [Illustration: Cuts of veal] [Illustration: Cuts of lamb] (5) Pork has a large amount of fat intermingled with its fibres, and is, therefore, difficult to digest. (6) Chicken and turkey are easily digested, but goose and duck are indigestible, because of the fat through the muscle fibres. (7) Game is easy of digestion. The practical work, besides the experiments, in connection with the meat lessons, should consist of at least three preparations of this food: (1) the cooking of tender meat, (2) the cooking of tough meat, (3) the making of soup. [Illustration: Cuts of pork] The object of each preparation should be made plain, so that the pupils may fully understand what they are trying to accomplish. 1. Object in cooking tender meat: (1) To change the flavour and appearance. (2) To seal the tubes to keep in the juices. (3) To cook the meat without densely coagulating the protein of the muscle juice, so as to keep it digestible. 2. Object in cooking tough meat: (1) To change the flavour and appearance. (2) To soften and partially dissolve the connective tissue, making it easy to cut. (3) To avoid making the muscle juice indigestible. 3. Object in making soup: (1) To extract the connective tissue from the bone. (2) To extract the muscle juice from the tubes. GENERAL RULES FOR COOKING MEAT 1. Baking: Place the meat in a very hot oven with pieces of the fat or some dripping in the pan. Baste every ten minutes. Keep the oven very hot for a small roast. For a large roast, check the fire after the first fifteen minutes. Bake fifteen minutes to each pound. 2. Broiling: (1) Over the coals.--Put the meat between the hot greased wires of a broiler. Place over a very hot, clear fire. Turn the broiler every ten seconds. Beef one inch thick cooks rare in eight minutes. (2) Pan Broiling.--Heat a frying-pan smoking hot. Lay the meat in flat; turn constantly until seared, then frequently, as in broiling, but do not pierce the muscle part with a fork. Beef one inch thick cooks rare in ten minutes. 3. Boiling: Cover the meat with boiling water. Boil five minutes. Then simmer until done. Tender meat takes twenty minutes to the pound; tough meat takes from three to five hours. 4. Stewing: Cut the meat in pieces of a suitable size. Cover with cold water. Bring gradually to the simmering point and simmer until tender, usually three or four hours. Keep the pot closely covered. 5. Beef juice: Take one pound of steak from the top of the round. Wipe the steak, remove all fat, and cut the lean meat in small pieces. Place in canning jar, and cover; place on a rest in the kettle and surround with cold water. Allow the water to heat slowly, care being taken not to have it reach a higher temperature than 130 degrees. Let stand two hours; strain and press the meat to obtain all the juices. Salt to taste. NOTE.--These rules may be dictated to the class, as all of the principles which they involve have been previously discussed. FISH Since fish is the flesh of sea animals, there will be little new to learn concerning it. Main points of difference between this flesh and ordinary meat are: 1. Fish is less stimulating and nourishing than meat, as it contains more water and less protein than an equal quantity of lean meat. 2. Oysters, and the class called white-fish, are more easily digested than meat, hence they should be chosen for invalids or those having weak digestions. Kinds of fish: 1. White-fish.--The fat is stored mostly in the liver, making the flesh easy to digest. Examples: cod, halibut, haddock, white-fish. 2. Oily fish.--The fat is distributed throughout the flesh, making it more difficult to digest. Examples: salmon, herring, mackerel. 3. Shell-fish.--Because of their close fibres, these are difficult to digest, with the exception of oysters. Examples: clams, scallops, and oysters. 4. Crustaceous.--The flesh is tough and hard to digest. Examples: lobsters, crabs. Selection of fish: Fresh fish may be recognized by the following: 1. The eyes should be full and bright. 2. The flesh should be firm and elastic. 3. The gills should be bright red. 4. There should be no unpleasant odour. Cooking of fish: Fish may be cooked in any way similar to meat. As the flesh of fish contains food substances which are very easily dissolved in water, boiling is not a good method of cooking to choose for this food. Steaming, baking, and frying are more suitable. GELATINE A lesson on gelatine naturally follows the lessons on meat and fish. The study of bone and the making of soup have explained the source of this substance, and only a few additional facts are necessary. The gelatine practice dishes are sure to prove attractive to the class, and the common use of this food in sickness, and in salads and desserts, makes it important that its food value be understood. 1. Source of gelatine: Gelatine is obtained from the bones, cartilage, and skin of animals. It is the connective tissue dissolved out of these parts. The housekeeper may obtain it for herself or she may buy it already extracted; both are equally good. 2. Commercial forms: (1) Sheet gelatine (2) Shredded gelatine (3) Granulated gelatine. 3. Properties of gelatine: (1) It softens in cold water, but will not dissolve. (2) It dissolves in hot water. (3) It jellies when cold, if the solution be sufficiently strong. (4) Good gelatine has little taste, colour, or odour, and no sediment when dissolved. 4. Steps in dissolving gelatine: (1) Put a small amount of cold water or any cold liquid on gelatine, and let it stand until the liquid is absorbed. (2) Add a boiling liquid and stir thoroughly until dissolved. 5. Value in the diet: (1) Gelatine is a nitrogenous substance, but cannot of itself build tissues, as most protein foods do. When eaten, it will save the tissues already making up the body, hence is called a _protein-sparer_. (2) It is very easily digested, and for this reason it gives a pleasant variety to the diet of an invalid. (3) It makes an attractive dessert at the end of a substantial meal, without adding much nutriment. 6. Ways of using gelatine: (1) It may assist in making soup. (2) Any liquid may be used to dissolve this substance to make a plain jelly. Examples: coffee jelly, tomato jelly, wine jelly. (3) Plain jelly may be varied as follows: Allow the plain jelly mixture to cool until it is as thick as cream, and then beat in whipped egg-white, or fruit, or chopped vegetables, and set away until firm. Examples: snow pudding, orange charlotte, vegetable salad. (4) Strain off the juice from a can of fruit, heat it, and use it for dissolving the gelatine. When almost set, add the fruit, and set away to become firm. FROZEN DISHES A lesson on frozen dishes may be taken at any time, but it seems specially opportune after the gelatine lesson. It may be impossible to make these dishes in school, but the facts of the lesson may be discussed and recipes furnished, after which a Form IV pupil should find no difficulty in carrying out these recipes at home. Elementary science should be correlated, to explain the use of salt in the freezing process. VALUE OF FROZEN DISHES 1. They are cooling, refreshing, and nourishing when properly taken; they are not good as a final course at a meal, as cold mixtures reduce the temperature of the stomach and thus retard digestion. 2. They are appetizing in appearance and flavour. 3. They are economical as regards cost of ingredients, fuel, time, and energy. KINDS OF FROZEN DISHES 1. Water ice.--Fruit juice diluted with water, sweetened and frozen; stirred about every five minutes while freezing. 2. Frappé.--Water ice frozen to the consistency of mush; in freezing, equal parts of ice and salt are used to make the mixture granular. 3. Sherbet.--Water ice to which is added a small quantity of dissolved gelatine or beaten egg-white; stirred constantly while freezing. 4. Ice cream.--Thin cream, sweetened, flavoured, and frozen; stirred constantly while freezing. 5. Plain ice cream.--Same as ice cream with custard added. 6. Mousse.--Thick cream, beaten until stiff, sweetened, flavoured, placed in a mould, packed in ice and salt (two parts ice to one part salt), and allowed to stand three hours. A small quantity of dissolved gelatine may be added to the mixture. PRACTICAL WORK 1. Freezing: (1) Scald the can and dasher and cool just before using. (2) See that all parts of the freezer are properly adjusted. (3) Empty the mixture into the can; never fill the can more than three-quarters full, to allow for expansion when freezing. (4) Prepare ice by chipping finely or by crushing in a canvas bag by means of a mallet. (5) Allow three measures of ice to one of coarse rock salt and pack this mixture solidly around the can. (6) Turn the crank slowly and steadily until the mixture begins to freeze, then turn more rapidly until frozen. (7) Add more ice and salt as needed, but do not draw off the salt water except to keep it from getting inside the can. 2. Packing: (1) When the mixture is frozen, draw off the water, remove the dasher, and pack the contents of the can down solidly with a spoon. (2) Replace the cover, using a cork for the opening, then repack in ice and salt (four parts ice to one part salt). (3) Cover with newspapers, blanket, or carpet, and let it stand for at least one hour before serving. 2. Moulding: (1) Wet the mould and pack the frozen mixture in solidly. (2) Place the cover on the mould and bind strips of greased cotton or waxed paper around all the crevices. (3) Imbed the mould in ice and salt (four parts ice to one part salt). (4) Wrap a cloth wrung from hot water around the mould for an instant, before removing the mixture. PLANNING AND PREPARATION OF MEALS The food work of the previous Forms, from constant reference and use, should be so well known that it may be reviewed in one lesson, under the following heads: 1. Uses of food 2. Necessary substances in food 3. Composition of the common foods--milk, eggs, meat, vegetables, fruit, seeds 4. General sources of each food substance. After the review, the class may be asked to prepare menus for one day's meals, keeping in mind the following: 1. Daily balance of food substances 2. Appetizing appearance and flavour of the food 3. Economy of time, labour, and money in providing the food. The preparation of menus may be continued, even while other work is being studied, until the teacher feels satisfied with the ability of the class to prepare menus intelligently. The planning of menus should, if time permit, be extended to actual practice in preparing and serving the meals called for by some of the menus. In this Form there should be a limit set to the number of people served and the cost of the food. Since breakfast and luncheon were prepared in the Junior Form, a dinner should be taken in this. The entire responsibility of the meal should be given to the pupils, each being appointed to perform definite duties. The teacher may advise while the class is planning the work, but not assist while it is being carried out. Each member of the class may be asked to prepare a menu to suit the special conditions which have been made as to number and cost. These may be planned at home and brought to the teacher for criticism. At the first lesson, three or four of the best may be written on the black-hoard for comparison and choice. When the selection is made, members of the class should be chosen for the following duties: (1) marketing, (2) preparation of food, (3) laying the table, (4) serving, (5) representing members of the family to eat the meal. NOTE.--To prevent any suspicion of favouritism, the duties may be written on slips of paper and the pupils allowed to draw these. At the second lesson the meal will be prepared, served, and eaten. In schools lacking an equipment, the meal may be planned and selected in the same way as above, but the entire responsibility of carrying it out must rest on one pupil, as it will be necessary for each to prepare and serve it in her own home. CHAPTER XIII FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) INFANT FEEDING This subject is more suitable for older students than for those attending the public and separate schools, but, because of its importance and the fact that many girls never go beyond the Entrance class, it is deemed wise to present, to the pupils of Form IV, the main facts relating to the feeding of infants. Each teacher must however use her judgment in the choice of these facts for her class and in the method of presenting them. The instruction given may include the following ideas: The natural food of an infant is its mother's milk, and too much stress cannot be placed on the necessity of nursing by the mother. Even if the mother has but a small supply, the baby should not be weaned; the supply should be supplemented by modified milk. In the rare cases where a mother cannot nurse her baby, a physician should prescribe the food. In such a case the best substitute is cow's milk. If cow's milk be used, it will have to be changed or "modified" to make it as far as possible like mother's milk. Cow's milk differs in the following respects: It has (1) less water and therefore more solids; (2) a larger proportion of protein and mineral compounds; (3) less sugar; (4) a different combination of fats. Cow's milk cannot be made like mother's milk, but it is better food for a little baby if cream, milk sugar, and barley water, are added in certain proportions, varying according to the age of the child. RECIPE FOR MODIFIED MILK Milk 7 ounces Milk sugar 1/2 ounce Cream (18%) 1 ounce, if ordinary milk be used or 1/2 ounce if Jersey milk be used. Barley water Dilute with barley water to make 20 ounces for the first two or three weeks, then reduce to 16 ounces up to about three months of age. The volume may then be reduced to 14 ounces, and at five or six months to 12 ounces. Mixed milk, and not one cow's milk, should be used, for the reason that a better average of milk is secured from several cows than from one. The supply should be fresh and clean. To make sure of the latter, scrupulous care should be given to the cleanliness of the cows' bodies and stables, the utensils, and the clothing and hands of the milkers. If there is any doubt of the cleanliness, the milk should be pasteurized. The pasteurization greatly reduces the bacterial life in the milk by a temperature which does not change its composition and digestibility, as is the case in sterilizing it. DIRECTIONS FOR PASTEURIZING MILK Sterilize bottles as for canning. Nearly fill the bottles with milk and cork them with absorbent cotton which has been sterilized (by being baked a delicate brown). Place the bottles on a rest in a deep kettle and surround them with cold water as high as the milk. Heat the water gradually to 155 degrees Fahrenheit, or until tiny bubbles show in the milk next the glass. Remove the kettle and contents to where the temperature of the milk will remain the same for half an hour. Then cool the milk quickly by putting the bottles first in lukewarm water and then in cold water. Keep in a cool place and do not remove the cotton until ready to use. Pasteurized milk should not be kept more than a couple of days. The utmost care and cleanliness should be observed in preparing the infant's food. All utensils which come in contact with the food should be sterilized each time they are used. Bottles with rubber tubes should _never_ be used, as they cannot be thoroughly cleaned. The bottle should be plain and graduated without a neck, and the nipple should admit of being turned inside out. CARE OF BOTTLES After the nursing, the bottles should at once be rinsed with cold water. Later, the bottles and nipples should be carefully washed in hot, soapy water, then rinsed in clear, hot water. They should then be sterilized by boiling in water for twenty minutes, after which they may be placed in boric acid solution (1 tsp. to 1 qt. water), or the bottles may be emptied and plugged with sterilized absorbent cotton until again required. CARE OF FOOD It saves much time to make sufficient food to last for twenty-four hours. This may be put into a large bottle, or what is better, into the several nursing bottles, and each plugged with sterilized absorbent cotton. After cooling, the bottles should be put on the ice or in some cool place until required. Where there is no refrigerator, an ice-box made on the principle of the home-made fireless cooker will do excellent service. When the food is to be used, it should be warmed slightly above body heat by placing the bottle in warm water. The following table is taken from _The Care and Feeding of Children_ by L. Emmet Holt, M.D., of New York. SCHEDULE FOR FEEDING A HEALTHY CHILD DURING THE FIRST YEAR ----------------------------------------------------------------------- |Interval| Night | Number | | | between| feedings| of | Quantity | Quantity Age | meals | (6 p.m. | feedings| for one | for 24 | by day | to | in 24 | feeding | hours | | 6 a.m.) | hours | | ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- | Hours | | | Ounces | Ounces 2nd to 7th day | 3 | 2 | 7 | 1 2 | 7-14 ------------------|--------|---------+---------+-----------+----------- 2nd and 3rd weeks | 3 | 2 | 7 | 2-3 1/2 | 14-24 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- 4th to 6th week | 3 | 2 | 7 | 3-4 | 21-28 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- 7th week to 3 mos.| 3 | 2 | 7 | 3 1/2-5 | 25-35 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- 3 to 5 months | 3 | 1 | 6 | 4 1/2-6 | 27-36 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- 5 to 7 months | 3 | 1 | 6 |5 1/2-6 1/2| 33-39 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- 7 to 12 months | 4 | .. | 5 | 7-8 1/2 | 35-43 ------------------+--------+---------+---------+-----------+----------- CHAPTER XIV FORM IV: SENIOR GRADE (Continued) HOUSEHOLD SANITATION As the principles of sanitation are based on a knowledge of bacteria, the facts concerning these microscopic plants, which were taught in the lesson on the "Preservation of Food", have only to be reviewed and extended. The following topics should he quickly reviewed: 1. Description of bacteria 2. Occurrence of bacteria 3. Favourable conditions for bacteria 4. Multiplication of bacteria 5. Useful bacteria 6. Harmful bacteria. It is with the harmful bacteria that our lesson on sanitation deals. The pupils already know that some kinds belonging to this class cause the decay of food, and now they are ready to be told that other harmful kinds of microscopic plants gain entrance to our bodies and cause disease. Concerning these, the following outline of facts should be taken: 1. MEANS OF BACTERIA ENTERING THE BODY (1) Through the respiratory organs (2) Through the digestive tract (3) Through the broken skin. 2. COMMON DISEASE-PRODUCING BACTERIA (1) Those entering the respiratory organs.--Mumps, scarlet fever, whooping-cough, diphtheria, measles, pneumonia (2) Those entering the digestive tract.--Typhoid, cholera, tuberculosis (3) Those coming through cuts, etc.--Skin diseases like ringworm, blood poisoning, lockjaw (tetanus). [Illustration: Sink and sewer connection T--Trap. W--Waste Pipe. H.D.--House drain. S.--Sewer.] If housekeepers do not exercise care, these disease-producing bacteria may enter the home, and finding there all the conditions which they require, they will multiply, and become a menace to the family. 3. METHODS OF SANITATION Since bacteria are too small to be seen, it is very hard to deal with them. The housekeeper has the following ways of protecting the household: (1) By having all drain pipes trapped: (2) By keeping the house free from lodging places for bacteria: (_a_) Keep the house clean and free of dust. (_b_) Wash garbage pails and sinks daily and scald them and drain pipes at least once a week. (_c_) Keep the refrigerators, cupboards, and receptacles for food clean, and allow no spoiled food to remain in them. (_d_) Wash and sterilize the soiled clothing once a week. (_e_) Keep the cellar well aired and clean; allow no decaying material to remain in it. (_f_) Keep the door-yards clean; allow no scraps of food, cleaning water, or sweepings to be thrown near the house. (3) By keeping the supply of food from disease-producing bacteria: (_a_) Use screens to keep out flies, which transfer bacteria from their bodies to food. (_b_) Wash fresh fruit and vegetables before using. (_c_) Boil for twenty minutes water of doubtful purity. (4) By keeping the bodies of the family strong and healthy, so that if bacteria gain an entrance they will be resisted and overcome: (_a_) Provide well-balanced, nutritious food. (_b_) Supply suitable clothing to protect the body. (_c_) See that there is an abundant supply of fresh air, night and day. 4. DISPOSAL OF WASTE IN VILLAGES AND RURAL DISTRICTS (1) Burn all combustible material. (2) Bury tins, broken dishes, etc. (3) Feed refuse food to animals or empty it into a pit dug for the purpose, and cover with a layer of earth from time to time. (4) Throw slop water at a distance from the house and well, and plant stalky growths like sunflowers, which absorb the waste. 5. METHODS OF DISINFECTING Where bacterial disease is known to exist, the utmost care should be taken to subject everything that has come in contact with the patient to a process which will kill the disease-producing plants. Only two ways of doing this are known: (1) Subject the bacteria to extreme heat which will kill them-- (_a_) Burn everything that can be burned. (_b_) Boil bed and body linen. (_c_) Scald dishes. (_d_) Scald or bake utensils. (2) Use chemicals to destroy the germs-- (_a_) Use chemical solutions to wash surfaces, materials, or utensils. (_b_) Seal the rooms and burn chemicals to produce vapours which will destroy bacteria. NOTE.--Directions for the use of chemicals are given under the lesson on "Home Nursing". HOME NURSING This part of the work does not require a special equipment, though it is an advantage to have one. An ingenious teacher, with the co-operation of her pupils, will invent plans for providing whatever is necessary for demonstration. Pupils living near the school can supply many of the needed materials. A doll and doll's bed may be used to teach bed making and the changing of bed-clothing while the patient is in bed. The doll may also be used to illustrate the method of giving a patient a bath in bed and of changing the body clothing, if such information is desired. In some cases, a manual training pupil might construct the bed, and the sewing class the mattress, bed-clothing, and doll's underwear. If this were the property of the school, the girls could take turns in making the bed every day and in laundering the clothing at home once a week. It is desirable that the instruction in home nursing be given in two lessons. These may be outlined as follows: LESSON I THE SICK ROOM 1. Location.--The room should be on the sunny side of the house and be as large and airy as possible. The top floor is quieter, but necessitates many steps. 2. Furniture.--All furniture should admit of easy cleaning. Small rugs are better than a carpet, as they can be easily removed for cleaning. In infectious diseases, only bare necessities should be kept in the room. The bed should be single and placed so as to be accessible from both sides. It should be high enough to prevent the nurse stooping. The bed-clothing should be of light weight and washable. A bedside table should be provided, also a couch for the nurse. A screen will be found useful to prevent draughts and to shade the light. 3. Ventilation.--A thermometer should be used, and the temperature kept at 65 degrees to 68 degrees, or, in special diseases, according to the doctor's orders. An abundant supply of fresh air should be provided day and night. To secure this, there must be two openings, one to admit pure, fresh air, and the other to let out the impure air. These openings are preferably on opposite sides of the room and at different heights. If there is only one window, it should be made to open at both top and bottom. In extreme cases, an adjoining room may be aired and, after the fresh air is warm, it may be admitted to the sick room. 4. Care.--The room should be kept very clean and neat. All cleaning should be quietly done, so as not to annoy or disturb the patient. The floor, wood-work, and furniture should be dusted with a damp cloth. Flowers should be removed at night and should have fresh water daily. No food or medicine should he left in the room. Soiled dishes or clothing should be removed as soon as possible and, in cases of infectious diseases, placed in water containing a disinfectant. All excreta should be taken away immediately and, if necessary, disinfected before being emptied. METHODS OF DISINFECTING 1. Dishes or clothing.--(1) Make a solution using one part of carbolic acid to twenty parts of water (six teaspoonfuls to a pint of water) and let it stand for half an hour. Soak the articles in this for two hours. (2) Use formalin according to directions. (3) Use bichloride tablets according to directions. (This turns clothes yellow.) NOTE.--These solutions must be renewed every twenty-four hours, if exposed to the air. 2. Excreta.--Cover the excreta with one of the above solutions and allow it to stand for half an hour before emptying. LESSON II THE PATIENT 1. Care of the bed.--The bed of a sick person should be kept specially clean and fresh. The linen should be changed every day, or oftener if soiled. Where the supply of linen is limited, or where there is pressure of work, a good airing and sunning may occasionally take the place of laundering. In making the bed, it should be kept in mind that the under sheet requires unusual tucking in at the head, to prevent its slipping down and becoming wrinkled. The upper sheet should receive extra attention at the foot, as it is apt to pull up. When changing the sheets with the patient in bed, work as deftly and quietly as possible. Have the clean sheets warmed and the room comfortably heated. Begin with the under sheet as follows: (1) To change the under sheet.--Turn the patient over on the side away from you and fold the soiled sheet in flat folds close to the body. Lay the clean sheet on the side of the bed near you, tuck it in, and fold half of it against the roll of soiled sheet, so that both can be slipped under the body at once. Turn the patient back to the opposite side, on the clean sheet, pull out the soiled sheet, and tuck the clean one smoothly in place. (2) To change the upper sheet.--Loosen all the clothes at the foot of the bed. Spread a clean sheet and blanket, wrong side up, on top of the other bedclothes. Pin the clean clothes at the head of the bed or get the patient to hold them. Gradually slip down and draw out the soiled sheet and blanket. Tuck all in place. 2. Care of the diet.--Recovery from sickness in many cases depends more upon the right kind of food than on medicine. The importance of proper diet should have been impressed on the minds of the pupils by their lessons on food, in the Junior Grade of Form IV. They may now be shown that, in sickness, the responsibility of the choice of food is transferred from the patient to the doctor or nurse. Hence it is most important that a person acting as nurse should be trained in food values and proper methods of cooking. She should also be capable of exercising daintiness and artistic skill in serving, so that the appearance of the food may tempt the patient to eat it. [Illustration: Invalid's tray] It should not be necessary to review the comparative values of the well-known foods or the best methods of applying heat to make and keep these foods digestible; it may be taken for granted that the class remembers these facts. The time may be more profitably used in naming and discussing special dishes which are included in invalid cookery. Recipes may be given for any of these which the pupils desire or the teacher chooses, and one or two of the dishes which require very little time to make, may be prepared. For the sake of convenience, diets for the sick may be classified as _Milk_, _Liquid_, _Light_, and _Full_. These terms are an easy way of indicating a certain range of foods. Milk Diet.--Milk, butter-milk, koumyss, kephyr. NOTE.--Lime-water may be given with sweet milk, one part to three of milk. Liquid Diet.--Milk diet, beef juice or beef-tea, broths, gruels, and sometimes jelly. Light Diet.--Soup, white meat of fowl, white fish, oysters, soft-cooked eggs, custard, milk puddings, fruit, gelatine jellies. Full Diet.--Any food that is not particularly hard to digest. NOTE.--Plenty of water should be given in all diets. POULTICES A poultice is used to reduce inflammation and should be as large as the affected part. The kinds in ordinary use are: 1. Mustard poultice, used as a counter irritant. 2. Linseed, bread, or potato poultice, used to soothe. Directions for a mustard poultice: 1. For a very strong poultice, mix pure mustard to a paste with warm water; spread on a piece of cheesecloth or muslin, leaving a margin of an inch; fold over the margin, and cover with thicker cotton or paper. 2. For milder poultices use flour to reduce the mustard as follows: (1) 1 part flour to 1 part mustard (2) 2 parts flour to 1 part mustard (3) 3 parts flour to 1 part mustard. Directions for linseed, bread, or potato poultices: Use boiling water to mix the above to the consistency of thick porridge, and spread as in the mustard poultice, excepting that the layer of poultice is made much thicker, in order to retain the moisture and heat. FOMENTATIONS These are much the same in their effects as poultices, but are sometimes more convenient. Directions for fomentations: Spread a towel over a large basin, place a flannel in the towel and pour boiling hot water over it. Fold the towel over the flannel, gather the dry ends of the towel in either hand, and wring. Carry to the patient, shake out the flannel, and apply. BIBLIOGRAPHY The following books are recommended for reference, the more useful being marked with an asterisk: THE HOME Furnishing of a Modest Home. Daniels, $1.00. Atkinson, Mentzner & Co., New York. Home Decoration. Priestman, $1.50. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. *Care of a House. Clark, $1.50. The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. SCIENCE AND SANITATION *Elementary Household Chemistry. Snell, $1.25. The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. Chemistry of Cooking and Cleaning. Richards and Elliott, $1.00. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. Fuels of the Household. White, 75c. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. *Story of Germ Life. Conn, 35c. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. *Household Foes. Ravenhill, 75c. McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart, Ltd., Toronto. *The Source, Chemistry, and Use of Food Products. Bailey, $1.75. Blakiston, Son & Co., Philadelphia. FOOD AND DIETETICS *Food Products. Sherman, $2.00. The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. Food Materials and their Adulterations. Richards, $1.00. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. *Food and Dietetics. Hutchison, $3.00. Wm. Wood & Co., 51 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. Principles of Human Nutrition. Jordan, $1.75. The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. *Care and Feeding of Children. Dr. Emmet Holt, 75c. D. Appleton, N.Y. (McAinsh, Toronto) Care of the Baby. Dr. J. P. C. Griffith, $1.50. W. B. Saunders & Co., Philadelphia. A Little Talk about the Baby. Helen MacMurchy, M.D. Free. The Provincial Board of Health, Toronto. Farmers' Bulletins. 5c each. Department of Agriculture, Washington, U.S.A. COOKING AND SERVING *Boston Cooking School Cook Book. Farmer, $2.00. McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart, Ltd., Toronto. *Diet in Disease. Pattee, $1.00. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. Elements of the Theory and Practice of Cookery. Williams & Fisher. The Macmillan Co. of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. *Girls' Home Manual. Annie B. Juniper. British Columbia Government, Victoria, B.C. Practical Cooking and Serving. Hill, $1.50. McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart, Ltd., Toronto. LAUNDRY WORK The Art and Practice of Laundry Work. Rankin, 1s. 6d. Blackie & Son, Limited, London, England. The Expert Cleaner. Seaman, 75c. McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart, Ltd., Toronto. *Bulletins on "The Laundry". 5c each. Department of Home Economics, Cornell University, Ithaca, N.Y. HOME NURSING Emergencies. Gulick, 40c. Ginn & Company, New York. *Home Nursing. Harrison, $1.00. The Macmillan Co. of Canada, Ltd., Toronto. Hints and Helps for Home Nursing and Hygiene. Cosgrave, 40c. St. John Ambulance Assn., Toronto. ECONOMICS Home Problems from a New Standpoint. Hunt, $1.00. Whitcomb & Barrows, Boston. *Household Management. Terrill. American School of Home Economics, Chicago, Ill. *The New Housekeeping. Frederick, $1.00. Musson Book Co., Toronto. MAGAZINES Good Housekeeping Magazine. $2.00 per year. 119 West Fortieth St., New York. *The Journal of Home Economics. $3.00 per year. 525 West 120th St., New York. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Page viii, "Wood" changed to "Wool" (of Wool Fibre)

Ontario Teachers' Manuals: Household Management

Ontario. Department of Education

['en']

52

{'Cooking', 'Home economics'}

PG24656

Text

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 153. JULY 11, 1917. CHARIVARIA. "It is more dangerous to be a baby in London than a soldier in France," said Mrs. H. B. IRVING at the National Baby Week Exhibition. The same disability--namely, middle-age--has prevented us from taking up either of these perilous _rôles_. *** L.C.C. tram-tickets, says a news item, are now thinner. Other means of increasing the space available for passengers are also under consideration. *** Over one thousand penny dreadfuls were found in the possession of a boy of sixteen who was sentenced to three months' imprisonment for theft. The commonplace nature of the sentence has disgusted the lad. *** The report that Mr. CHARLES CHAPLIN had signed a contract to serve in the British Army at 1s. 1d. a day is denied. *** As an outcome of Baby Week the Anti-Comforter League has been formed. The suggestion that Mr. HOGGE, M.P., would make an admirable first President has not been followed up. *** Humanitarians who have been urging the Government not to stain its hands with the more painful forms of reprisal, have received a nasty shock. A German spy has been arrested in London! *** The rubber cushions of billiard tables are now being taken by the German military authorities. Meanwhile the enemy Press continues to take its cue from HINDENBURG. *** A notorious Petrograd anarchist is reported to be ill, and has been ordered to take a complete rest by his doctor. He has therefore decided not to throw any bombs for awhile at least. *** Further evidence of the Eastern talent for adopting Western ideas and improving on them comes from China, where the EX-EMPEROR HSUAN TUNG has celebrated Baby Week by issuing a decree announcing his return to the Throne. *** "The only plumber, electrician, hot-water-fitter, gas-fitter, bell-hanger, zinc-worker, blacksmith and locksmith we have left"--such was an employer's description of a C1 workman. We understand that the War Office will mobilise him as a special corps as soon as they can think of a sufficiently comprehensive title for him. *** Several milkmen have reduced their prices from sixpence to fivepence. Other good results from the timely rains are expected. *** A miner, fined one pound for wasting bread, was said to have thrown his dinner--a mutton chop, onion sauce, and two slices of bread--on the fire because he could not have potatoes. There is a strong feeling that the Censor should prohibit publication of these glaring cases of hardship on the ground that they are likely to encourage the Germans to prolong the War. *** Large quantities of food have been carried off by a burglar from several houses in the Heathfield district. Knowing our War bread, we are confident that it did not give in without a struggle. *** We are sorry to find _The Globe_ making playful reference to the many postponements of certain music-hall revues. Mr. Justice DARLING will agree that these things cannot be postponed too often. *** "How can I distinguish poisonous from edible fungi?" asks a correspondent of _The Daily Mail_. The most satisfactory test is to look for them. If you find them they are likely to be poisonous. If they have been already gathered they were probably edible. *** It is now admitted that the conscientious objectors undergoing sentence at Dartmoor are allowed to have week-ends occasionally. This concession, it appears, had to be granted as several of them threatened to leave the place. *** The pessimists who maintain that this will be a long war are feeling pretty cheap just now. An American scientific journal declares that the world can only last another fifteen million years. *** Roughly speaking, says a weekly paper, there is a policeman for every sixteen square miles. This gives them plenty of room to turn round in. *** It is reported that ex-KING CONSTANTINO is to receive £20,000 a year unemployment benefit. *** We have heard so little of the Hidden Hand this past week or so that we are tempted to ask whether it is suffering from writer's cramp. *** It is reported that three large jam factories have been commandeered by the Military. A soldier writes to ask whether it is proposed to include jam in the list of field punishments. *** "Justices cannot guarantee results to litigants in advance," said the Willesden magistrate recently. Not without trespassing on the privileges of the Bar. *** As a demonstration of allegiance to their country's cause the Apaches of Northern America are to hold a great "Devil Dance" in Arizona. It only needed this to convince us that all was well with America. *** A flask of wine of the year A.D. 17, found in a Roman tomb in Bavaria, is said to be the oldest extant vintage. It antedates Sir FREDERICK BANBURY'S brand of Toryism by several years. * * * * * [Illustration: THE FOP. _Looker-on_. "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE NEXT, CLARENCE,--ELECTRIC SHAMPOO OR FACE MANICURED?"] * * * * * "Mrs. ----, who has just entered her 192nd year, reads without glasses, writes to her grandchildren fighting abroad, and knits articles for King George's Military Hospital."--_Daily Express (Dublin)_. Those grandchildren must be getting a little old for active service. * * * * * TINO IN EXILE. [As indicated on another page, TINO'S actual opinion of his Imperial brother-in-law is probably not too amiable; but it has to be disguised in his letters, which are liable to be censored by his wife.] Thank you, dear William, I am fairly well. The climate suits me and the simple life-- No diplomats to spoil the scenery's spell, And only faintest echoes of the strife; The Alps are mirrored in a lake of blue; Over my straw-crowned poll the blue skies laugh; A waterfall (no charge) completes a view Equal to any German oleograph. There are no bugle blares to make me jump, But just the jodler calling to his kine; A few good Teuton toadies, loud and plump, More than suffice me in the _levée_ line; And, when poor ALEXANDER, there in Greece, Writes of your "agents" rounded up and sacked, I am content with privacy and peace, Having, at worst, retained my head intact. SOPHIE and I have thought of you a lot (We have so very few distractions here; We chat about the weather, which is hot, And then we turn to talk of your career); For rumour says this bloody war will last Until the Hohenzollerns get the boot; And through my brain the bright idea has passed That you had better do an early scoot. Were it not wise, dear WILLIAM, ere the day When Revolution goes for crowns and things, To cut your loss betimes and come this way And start a coterie of Exiled Kings? You might (the choice of safe retreats is poor) Do worse than join me in this happy land, And spend your last phase, careless, if obscure, With your devoted TINO hand-in-hand. O. S. * * * * * MONSIEUR JOSEPH. On the day that I left hospital, with a month's sick leave in hand, I went to dine at my favourite Soho restaurant, the Mazarin, which I always liked because it provided an excellent meal for an extremely modest sum. But this evening my steps turned towards the old place because I wanted a word with Monsieur Joseph, the head-waiter. I found him the same genial soul as ever, though a shade stouter perhaps and greyer at the temples, and I flatter myself that it was with a smile of genuine pleasure that he led me to my old table in a corner of the room. When the crowd of diners had thinned he came to me for a chat. "It is indeed a pleasure to see M'sieur after so long a time," said he, "for, alas, there are so many others of our old clients who will not ever return." I told him that I too was glad to be sitting in the comparative quiet of the Mazarin, and asked him how he fared. Joseph smiled. "I 'ave a surprise for M'sieur," he said--"yes, a great surprise. There are ten, fifteen years that I work in thees place, and in four more weeks _le patron_ will retire and I become the proprietor. Oh, it is bee-utiful," he continued, clasping his hands rapturously, "to think that in so leetle time I, who came to London a poor waiter, shall be _patron_ of one of its finest restaurants." I offered him my warmest congratulations. If ever a man deserved success it was he, and it was good to see the look of pleasure on his face as I told him so. "And now," said I presently, "I also have a surprise for you, Joseph." He laughed. "Eh bien, M'sieur, it is your turn to take my breath away." "My last billet in France, before being wounded," I told him, "was in a Picardy village called Fléchinelle." He raised his hands. "Mon Dieu," he cried, "it is my own village!" "More than that," I continued, "for nearly six weeks I lodged just behind the church, in a whitewashed cottage with a stock of oranges, pipes and boot-laces for sale in the window." "It is my mother's shop!" he exclaimed breathlessly. I nodded my head, and then proceeded to give him the hundred-and-one messages that I had received from the little old lady as soon as she discovered that I knew her son. "It is so long since I 'ave seen 'er," said Monsieur Joseph, blowing his nose violently. "So 'ard I work in London these ten, fifteen years that only once have I gone 'ome since my father died." Then I told him how bent and old his mother was, and how lonesome she had seemed all by herself in the cottage, and as I spoke of the shop which she still kept going in her front-room the tears fairly rained down his face. "But, M'sieur," said he, "that which you tell me is indeed strange; for those letters which she writes to me week by week are always gay, and it 'as seemed to me that my mother was well content." Then he struck his fist on the table. "I 'ave it," he said. "She shall come to live 'ere with me in Londres. All that she desires shall be 'ers, for am I not a rich man?" I shook my head. "She would never leave her village now," I told him. "And I know well that she desires nothing in the world except to see you again." Then as I rose to go, "Good night, M'sieur," said Joseph a little sadly. "Be very sure that there is always a welcome for you 'ere." The next time that I dined at the Mazarin was some four weeks later, on the eve of my return to the Front. A strange waiter showed me to my place, and Joseph was nowhere to be seen. Indeed a wholly different air seemed to pervade the place since my last visit. Presently I beckoned to a waiter whom I recognised as having served under the old _régime_. "Where is Monsieur Joseph?" I asked him. "Where indeed, Sir!" the man replied. "It is all so strange. One day it is arranged that he shall take over the restaurant and its staff, and on the next he come to say 'Good-bye' to us all, and then leave for France. Oh, it is _drôle_. So good a business man to lose the chance that comes once only in a life! He is too old to fight. Yet who knows? Maybe he heard of something better out there...." As the man spoke the gold-and-white walls of the restaurant faded, the clatter of plates and dishes died away, and I was back again in a tiny village shop in Picardy. Across the counter, packed with its curious stock, I saw Monsieur Joseph, with shirt-sleeves rolled up, gravely handing a stick of chocolate to a child, and taking its sou in return. In the diminutive kitchen behind sat a little white-haired old lady with such a look of content on her face as I have rarely seen. Then suddenly I found myself back again in the London restaurant. "Yes," I said to the waiter, "it is possible, as you say, that Monsieur Joseph heard of something better in France." And raising my glass I drank a silent toast. * * * * * [Illustration: THE TUBER'S REPARTEE. GERMAN PIRATE. "GOTT STRAFE ENGLAND!" BRITISH POTATO. "TUBER ÜBER ALLES!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Crowd_. "WOULD YER LIKE TO GO TO HORSPITAL?"--"SHALL I GET YER A DROP OF BRANDY?"--"DID YER SLIP ON THE BANANA-PEEL?" "DID YER FALL?"--"ARE YER HURT, SIR?"--"SHALL I FETCH A DOCTOR?"--"IS THAT YOUR HAT, SIR?" _Ex-Cabinet Minister_. "THE ANSWERS TO ONE, TWO, FIVE AND SIX ARE IN THE NEGATIVE; TO THREE, FOUR AND SEVEN IN THE AFFIRMATIVE."] * * * * * THE MUD LARKS. You have all seen it in the latest V.C. list--"The Reverend Paul Grayne, Chaplain to the Forces, for conspicuous bravery and gallant example in the face of desperate circumstances." You have all pictured him, the beau-ideal of muscular Christian, the Fighting Parson, eighteen hands high, terrific in wind and limb, with a golden mane and a Greek profile; a Pekinese in the drawing-room, a bull-dog in the arena; a soupçon of Saint FRANCIS with a dash of JOHN L. SULLIVAN--and all that. But we who have met heroes know that they are very seldom of the type which achieves the immortality of the picture post-card. The stalwart with pearly teeth, lilac eyes and curly lashes is C3 at Lloyd's (Sir FRANCIS), and may be heard twice daily at the Frivolity singing, "My Goo-goo Girl from Honolulu" to entranced flappers; while the lad who has Fritzie D. Hun backed on the ropes, clinching for time, is usually gifted with bow legs, freckles, a dented proboscis and a coiffure after the manner of a wire-haired terrier. The Reverend Paul Grayne, V.C., sometime curate of Thorpington Parva, in the county of Hampshire, was no exception to this rule. Æsthetically he was a blot on the landscape; among all the heroes I have met I never saw anything less heroically moulded. He stood about five feet nought and tipped the beam at seven stone nothing. He had a mild chinless face and his long beaky nose, round large spectacles, and trick of cocking his head sideways when conversing, gave him the appearance of an intelligent little dicky-bird. I remember very well the occasion of our first meeting. I was in my troop lines one afternoon, blackguarding a farrier, when a loud nicker sounded on the road and a black cob, bearing a feebly protesting padre upon his fat back, trotted through the gate, up to the lines and began to swop How d'y'do's with my hairies. The little Padre cocked his head on one side and oozed apologies from every pore. He hadn't meant to intrude, he twittered; Peter had brought him; it was Peter's fault; Peter was very eccentric. Peter, I gathered, was the fat cob, who by this time had butted into the lines and was tearing at a hay net as if he hadn't had a meal for years. His alleged master looked at me hopeless, helpless. What was he to do? "Well, since Peter is evidently stopping to tea with my horses," said I, "the only thing you can do is to come to tea with us." So I lifted him down and bore him off to the cow-shed inhabited by our mess at the time and regaled him on chlorinated Mazawattee, marmalade and dog biscuit. An hour later, Peter willing, he left us. We saw a lot of the Padre after that. Peter, it appeared, had taken quite a fancy to us and frequently brought him round to meals. The Padre had no word of say in the matter. He confessed that, when he embarked upon Peter in the morning, he had not the vaguest idea where mid-day would find him. Nothing but the black cob's fortunate rule of going home to supper saved the Padre from being posted as a deserter. He had an uneasy feeling that Peter would one day suddenly sicken of the war and that he would find himself in Paris or on the Riviera. We had an uneasy feeling that Peter would one day develop a curiosity as to the Bosch horse rations, and stroll across the line, and we should lose the Padre, a thing we could ill afford to do, for by this time he had taken us under his wing spiritually and bodily. On Sundays he would appear in our midst dragging a folding harmonium and hold Church Parade, leading the hymns in his twittering bird-like voice. Then the spinster ladies of his old parish of Thorpington Parva gave him a Ford car, and with this he scoured back areas for provisions and threaded his tin buggy in and out of columns of dusty infantry and clattering ammunition limbers, spectacles gleaming, cap slightly awry, while his batman (a wag) perched precariously a-top of a rocking pile of biscuit tins, cigarette cases and boxes of tinned fruit, and shouted after the fashion of railway porters, "By your leave! Fags for the firin' line. Way for the Woodbine Express." But if we saw a lot of the Padre it was the Antrims who looked upon him as their special property. They were line infantry, of the type which gets most of the work and none of the Press notices, a hard-bitten, unregenerate crowd, who cared not a whit whether Belgium bled or not, but loved fighting for its own sake and put their faith in bayonet and butt. And wherever these Antrims went thither went the Padre also, his harmonium and his Woodbines. I have a story that, when they were in a certain part of the line where the trenches were only thirty yards apart (so close indeed that the opposing forces greeted each other by their first names and borrowed one another's wiring tools), the Padre dragged the harmonium into the front line and held service there, and the Germans over the way joined lustily in the hymns. He kept the men of the Antrims going on canteen delicacies and their officers in a constant bubble of joy. He swallowed their tall stories without a gulp; they pulled one leg and he offered the other; he fell headlong into every silly trap they set for him. Also they achieved merit in other messes by peddling yarns of his wonderful innocence and his incredible absent-mindedness. "Came to me yesterday, the Dicky Bird did," one of them would relate; "wanted advice about that fat fraud of his, Peter. 'He's got an abrasion on the knob of his right-hand front paw,' says he. 'Dicky Bird,' says I, 'that is no way to describe the anatomy of a horse after all the teaching I've given you.' 'I am so forgetful and horsey terms are so confusing,' he moans. 'Oh, I recollect now--his starboard ankle!' The dear babe!" In the course of time the Antrims went into the Push, but on this occasion they refused to take the Padre with them, explaining that Pushes were noisy affairs with messy accidents happening in even the best regulated battalions. The Padre was up at midnight to see them go, his spectacles misty. They went over the bags at dawn, reached their objective in twenty minutes and scratched themselves in. The Padre rejoined them ten minutes later, very badly winded, but bringing a case of Woodbines along with him. My friend Patrick grabbed him by the leg and dragged him into a shell-hole. Nothing but an inherent respect for his cloth restrained Patrick from giving the Dicky Bird the spanking of his life. At 8 A.M. the Hun countered heavily and hove the Antrims out. Patrick retreated in good order, leading the Padre by an ear. The Antrims sat down, licked their cuts, puffed some of the Woodbines, then went back and pitchforked the Bosch in his tender spots. The Bosch collected fresh help and bobbed up again. Business continued brisk all day, and when night fell the Antrims were left masters of the position. At 1 A.M. they were relieved by the Rutland Rifles, and a dog weary battered remnant of the battalion crawled back to camp in a sunken road a mile in the rear. One or two found bivouacs left by the Rutlands, but the majority dropped where they halted. My friend Patrick found a bivouac, wormed into it and went to sleep. The next thing he remembers was the roof of his abode caving in with the weight of two men struggling violently. Patrick extricated himself somehow and rolled out into the grey dawn to find the sunken road filled with grey figures, in among the bivouacs and shell holes, stabbing at the sleeping Antrims. Here and there men were locked together, struggling tooth and claw; the air was vibrant with a ghastly pandemonium of grunts and shrieks; the sunken road ran like a slaughter-house gutter. There was only one thing to do, and that was to get out, so Patrick did so, driving before him what men he could collect. A man staggered past him, blowing like a walrus. It was the Padre's batman, and he had his master tucked under one arm, in his underclothes, kicking feebly. Patrick halted his men beyond the hill crest, and there the Colonel joined him, trotting on his stockinged feet. Other officers arrived, herding men. "They must have rushed the Ruts., Sir," Patrick panted; "must be after those guns just behind us." "They'll get 'em too," said the Colonel grimly. "We can't stop 'em," said the Senior Captain. "If we counter at once we might give the Loamshires time to come up--they're in support, Sir--but--but, if they attack us, they'll get those guns--run right over us." The Colonel nodded. "Man, I know, I know; but look at 'em"--he pointed to the pathetic remnant of his battalion lying out behind the crest--"they're dropping asleep where they lie--they're beat to a finish--not another kick left in 'em." He sat down and buried his face in his hands. The redoubtable Antrims had come to the end. Suddenly came a shout from the Senior Captain, "Good Lord, what's that fellow after? Who the devil is it?" They all turned and saw a tiny figure, clad only in underclothes, marching deliberately over the ridge towards the Germans. "Who is it?" the Colonel repeated. "Beggin' your pardon, the Reverend, Sir," said the Padre's batman as he strode past the group of officers. "'E give me the slip, Sir. Gawd knows wot 'e's up to now." He lifted up his voice and wailed after his master, "'Ere, you come back this minute, Sir. You'll get yourself in trouble again. Do you 'ear me, Sir?" But the Padre apparently did not hear him, for he plodded steadily on his way. The batman gave a sob of despair and broke into a double. The Colonel sprang to his feet, "Hey, stop him, somebody! Those swine'll shoot him in a second--child murder!" Two subalterns ran forward, followed by a trio of N.C.O.'s. All along the line men lifted their weary heads from the ground and saw the tiny figure on the ridge silhouetted against the red east. "Oo's that blinkin' fool?" "The Padre." "Wot's 'e doin' of?" "Gawd knows." A man rose to his knees, from his knees to his feet, and stumbled forward, mumbling, "'E give me a packet of fags when I was broke." "Me too," growled another, and followed his chum. "They'll shoot 'im in a minute," a voice shouted, suddenly frightened. "'Ere, this ain't war, this is blasted baby-killin'." In another five seconds the whole line was up and jogging forward at a lurching double. "And a little child shall lead them," murmured the Colonel happily, as he put his best foot forwards; a miracle had happened, and his dear ruffians would go down in glory. But as they topped the hill crest came the shrill of a whistle from the opposite ridge, and there was half a battalion of the Rutlands back-casting for the enemy that had broken through their posts. With wild yells both parties charged downwards into the sunken road. When the tumult and shouting had died Patrick went in quest of the little Padre. He discovered him sitting on the wreck of his bivouac of the night; he was clasping some small article to his bosom, and the look in his face was that of a man who had found his heart's desire. Patrick sat himself down on a box of bombs, and looked humbly at the Reverend Paul. It is an awful thing for a man suddenly to find he has been entertaining a hero unawares. "Oh, Dicky Bird, Dicky Bird, why did you do it?" he inquired softly. The Padre cocked his head on one side and commenced to ooze apologies from every pore. "Oh dear--you know how absurdly absent-minded I am; well, I suddenly remembered I had left my teeth behind." PATLANDER. * * * * * [Illustration: _Old Lady._ "And what regiment are you in?" _The Sub._ "7th Blankshires. But I'm attached to the 9th Wessex." _Old Lady._ "Really! Now _do_ tell me why the officers get so fond of regiments with aren't their own."] * * * * * "At Nottingham on Saturday the damages ranging from £7 10s. to £3 were ordered to be paid by a number of miners for absenteeism. It was stated that, although absolved from military obligations by reason of their occupation, there had been glaring neglect of responsibility, some men having lost three ships a week."--_Western Morning News_. These mines are very tricky things. * * * * * THE AS. The French, always so quick to give things names--and so liberal about it that, to the embarrassment and undoing of the unhappy foreigner, they sometimes invent fifty names for one thing--have added so many words to the vocabulary since August, 1914, that a glossary, and perhaps more than one, has been published to enshrine them. Without the assistance of this glossary it is almost impossible to read some of the numerous novels of poilu life. So far as I am aware the latest creation is the infinitesimal word "as," or rather, it is a case of adaptation. Yesterday "as des carreaux" (to give the full form) stood simply for ace of diamonds. To-day all France, with that swift assimilation which has ever been one of its many mysteries, knows its new meaning and applies it. And what is this new "as"? I gather, without having had the advantage of cross-examining a French soldier, that an "as" is an obscure hero, one of the men, and they are by no means rare, who do wonderful things but do not get into the papers or receive medals or any mention in despatches. We all know that many of the finest deeds performed in war escape recognition. One does not want to suggest that V.C.'s and D.S.O.'s and Military Crosses and all the other desirable tokens of valour are conferred wrongly. Nothing of the kind. They are nobly deserved. But probably there never was a recipient of the V.C. or the D.S.O. or the Military Cross who could not--and did not wish to--tell his Sovereign, when the coveted honour was being pinned to His breast, of some other soldier not less worthy than himself of being decorated, whose deed of gallantry was performed under less noticeable conditions. The performer of such a deed is an "as" and it is his luck to be a not public hero. But why ace of diamonds? That I cannot explain. The "as" can be found in every branch of the Army, and he is recognised as one by his comrades, even although the world at large is ignorant. Perhaps we shall find a word for his British correlative, who must be numerically very strong too. The letter A alone might do it, signifying anonymous. "Voila, un as!" says the French soldier, indicating one of these brave modest fellows who chances to be passing. "You see that chap," one of our soldiers would say; "he's an A." All that I know of the "as" I have gathered from the French satirical paper, a child of the War, _La Baïonette_. This paper comes out every week and devotes itself, as its forerunner, _L'Assiette au Beurre_, used to do, to one theme at a time, one phase or facet of the struggle, usually in the army, but also in civil life, where changes due to the War steadily occur. In the number dedicated to the glory of the "as" I find recorded an incident of the French Army so moving that I want to tell it here, very freely, in English. It was, says the writer, before the attack at Carency, and he vouches for the accuracy of his report, for he was himself present. In the little village of Camblain-l'Abbé a regiment was assembled, and to them spoke their Captain. The scene was the yard of a farm. I know so well what it was like. The great manure heap in the middle; the carts under cover, with perhaps one or two American reapers and binders among them; fowls pecking here and there; a thin predatory dog nosing about; a cart-horse peering from his stable and now and then scraping his hoofs; a very wide woman at the dwelling-house door; the old farmer in blue linen looking on; and there, drawn up, listening to their Captain, row on row of blue-coated men, all hard-bitten, weary, all rather cynical, all weather-stained and frayed, and all ready to go on for ever. This is what the Captain said--a tall thin man of about thirty, speaking calmly and naturally as though he was reading a book. "I have just seen the Colonel," he said; "he has been in conference with the Commandant, and this is what has been settled. In a day or two it is up to us to attack. You know the place and what it all means. At such and such an hour we shall begin. Very well. Now this is what will happen. I shall be the first to leave the trench and go over the top, and I shall be killed at once. So far so good. I have arranged with the two lieutenants for the elder of them to take my place. He also will almost certainly be killed. Then the younger will lead, and after him the sergeants in turn, according to their age, beginning with the oldest who was with me at Saida before the War. What will be left by the time you have reached the point I cannot say, but you must be prepared for trouble, as there is a lot of ground to cover, under fire. But you will take the point and hold it. Fall out." That captain was an "as." * * * * * [Illustration: "OW D'YER LIKE BEING PUT ON TRANSPORT WORK, MATE?" "BLIMEY! WHAT THE DOOCE MADE ME TELL 'EM I'D ONCE DRUV A DONKEY!"] * * * * * Domestic Intelligence. "Owing to doctor's orders Mrs. ---- has been obliged to cancel all her engagements during Baby Week."--_Morning Paper_. * * * * * I STOOD AGAINST THE WINDOW. I stood against the window And looked between the bars, And there were strings of fairies Hanging from the stars; Everywhere and everywhere In shining swinging chains, Like rainbows spun from moonlight And twisted into skeins. They kept on swinging, swinging, They flung themselves so high They caught upon the pointed moon And hung across the sky; And when I woke next morning There still were crowds and crowds In beautiful bright bunches All sleeping on the clouds. * * * * * From a constable's evidence:-- "In his attempt to arrest her she threw herself on the ground and tried to smack his face."--_Weekly Dispatch_. The long arm of the law resents such presumptuous rivalry. * * * * * "ALL KINDS OF DEVILS MADE TO ORDER. ---- & ----, SHEFFIELD."--_The Ironmonger._ This looks uncommonly like an offer to trade with the enemy. * * * * * [Illustration: _Wife (to warrior, whose politeness to the waitress has been duly noted)_. "HUM! YOU SEEM TO 'AVE COME BACK 'ALF FRENCH."] * * * * * THE GIPSY SOLDIER The gipsy wife came to my door with pegs and brooms to sell They make by many a roadside fire and many a greenwood dell, With bee-skeps and with baskets wove of osier, rush and sedge, And withies from the river-beds and brambles from the hedge. With her stately grace, like PHARAOH'S queen (for all her broken shoon), You'd marvel one so tall and proud should ever ask a boon, But "living's dear for us poor folk" and "money can't be had," And "her man's in Mespotania" and "times is cruel bad!" Yes, times is cruel bad, we know, and passing strange also, And it's strange as anything I've heard that gipsy men should go To lands through which their forbears trod from some unknown abode The way that ended long ago upon the Portsmouth Road. I wonder if the Eastern skies and Eastern odours seem Familiar to that gipsy man, as memories of a dream; Does Tigris' flow stir ancient dreams from immemorial rest Ere ever gipsy poached the trout of Itchen and of Test? Does something in him seem to know those red and arid lands Where dust of ancient cities sleeps beneath the drifted sands? Do Kurdish girls with lustrous eyes beneath their drooping lids And Eastern babes look strangely like the Missis and the kids? I wonder if the waving palms, when desert winds do blow, In their dry rustling seem to sing a song he used to know; Or does he only curse the heat and wish that he were laid Beneath the spread of RUFUS' oaks or Harewood's beechen shade? Well, luck be with the gipsy man and lead him safely home To the old familiar caravan and ways he used to roam, And bring him as it brought his sires from their far first abode To where the gipsy camp-fires burn along the Portsmouth Road. C. F. S. * * * * * "The Premier's principal speech was made in St. Andrew's Hall, where he was presented with the Freedam of the City."--_Liverpool Post and Mercury._ Which he promptly passed on to the enemy. * * * * * "Skilled non-workers all over the Union have for some time been in great demand, and enough of them are not available at the present time."--_Rand Daily Mail_. There are still a few that the old country could spare. * * * * * "Rhode Island Red, 200 year old pullets, laying, 5s. each."--_Nottingham Guardian_. We fancy it must have been one of these veterans that we met at dinner the other night. * * * * * [Illustration: THE BRUSILOFF HUG. THE KAISER. "I'M ALL FOR FRATERNISATION, BUT I CALL THIS OVERDOING IT."] * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. _Monday, July 2nd._--On the Finance Bill Mr. BONAR LAW exhibited a conciliatory disposition; and, indignantly disclaiming the character of a kill-joy, made several welcome concessions to the taxpayer. The late increase in the tobacco duty is to be halved, so that the modest smoker may hope to fill his pipe for a penny less per ounce. This hope, of course, is dependent upon the decision of the all-powerful Trust. [Illustration: NO KILL-JOY. MR. BONAR LAW.] The Entertainments Tax also is to be modified, chiefly in its higher regions. Intimately connected with this question is the case of the "deadhead," argued with the zeal that is according to knowledge by that eminent playwright, Mr. HEMMERDE, who knows all about the free-list and its services in "enabling the management to keep the house properly dressed"--this refers, of course, to the front of the house--during the doubtful first weeks of a new play. Mr. HOGGE was in his place again. It had been reported that, consequent upon a hasty pledge to remain in Liverpool until his candidate was returned, he was now doomed for ever to wander an unquiet sprite upon the banks of Mersey. But he has wisely determined that Parliament must not suffer to please his private whim. _Tuesday, July 3rd._--The House of Lords was crowded to hear Lord HARDINGE'S comments upon the Mesopotamia Report. Even those critics in the Commons who had declared that a civil servant should not take advantage of his position as a peer to make a personal explanation would, I think, have had no reason to complain of its character. His object was not to defend himself, but to call attention to the splendid services that India had rendered to the Empire during the War in other fields than Mesopotamia. In his own phrase, "India was bled absolutely white during the first few weeks of the War." When the report comes up for formal discussion Lord CURZON will doubtless have something to say, and will say it in vigorous fashion. To-day, with the air and mien of a highly respectable undertaker, he contented himself with acknowledging Lord HARDINGE'S contribution and deprecated further debate. Lord ROBERT CECIL, safely back from his travels, does not appear to have kept himself up to date in the interval, for he was ignorant of the refusal of the Allies to allow Greece to set up a republic, although Mr. KING, with his superior sources of information, knows all about it. [Illustration: PARENTAL PRIDE. LORD DERBY.] At the close of Questions a stalwart young man in khaki advanced to the Table, and, amid the cheers of the Members and to the obvious delight of Lord DERBY, who sat beaming with parental pride in the Peers' Gallery, added the signature "STANLEY" to a roll which has rarely been without that name since "the Rupert of debate" signed it there close on a hundred years ago. Excess profits provided the theme for some lively speeches to-day. Major HAMILTON did not see why farmers should escape the tax, and instanced the case of a potato-grower who had made ten thousand pounds out of a couple of hundred acres. Several Members connected with the shipping interest protested against the tax. Mr. LEIF-JONES implied that it was more disastrous than the U-boats, and Mr. HOUSTON loudly protested at being represented as a harpy. By these complaints Mr. BONAR LAW was absolutely unmoved, and for very good reason. He had himself a few thousands invested in shipping, and, as he was getting about fifty per cent., instead of the modest five per cent. which he had anticipated, he had come to the conclusion that even under present conditions the trade was doing pretty well. After this confession of an involuntary profiteer the tax was agreed to. But the farmers, with next year's Budget in view, are praying that the conscientious CHANCELLOR will not invest his surplus profits in land. _Wednesday, July 4th_.--We all know the ex-poacher-turned-game-keeper. The converse process has taken place in the case of Lord PORTSMOUTH, who, when he ceased to be a Minister of the Crown, became a bitter critic of successive Administrations. His complaints of our blockade policy were frigidly acknowledged by Lord MILNER and hotly resented by Lord LANSDOWNE, upon whom Lord PORTSMOUTH'S ruddy beard always has a provocative effect. It is all very well to talk of being ruthless to neutrals, but if we had adopted the noble lord's policy early in the War would the Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes be to-day floating side by side all over London? Mr. LYNCH'S latest suggestion for the furtherance of his Republican propaganda is that the COMMISSIONER OF WORKS should remove from the streets all statues of deceased monarchs, and replace them by those of great leaders of thought. Sir ALFRED MOND absolutely refused. The worst kings sometimes make the best statues, and he is not prepared to sacrifice JAMES II. from the Admiralty even to put Mr. LYNCH himself on the vacant pedestal. "P. R." came up smiling for another round, and, having secured the services on this occasion of Mr. ASQUITH as judicious bottle-holder, was expected to make a good fight of it. The EX-PREMIER scouted the notion that the new plan of voting would fill the House with freaks and faddists, a class from which, he hinted, it is not, even under present conditions, entirely immune. But the majority evidently felt that there could not be much amiss with a system which had returned such wise and patriotic persons as themselves to Parliament, and they outed P. R. by 201 to 169. _Thursday, July 5th_.--It is hardly surprising that the Government has decided not to proceed at present with its great scheme of nationalizing the liquor-traffic. The announcement that, in order to meet the requirements of the harvest-season, the brewers should be allowed to increase the output of beer by one-third, brought a swarm of hornets about the CHANCELLOR'S head. Mr. LEIF-JONES (irreverently known as "Tea-leaf JONES") was horrified at the thought that more grain and sugar should be diverted to this pernicious liquid; Mr. DEVLIN and other champions of the trade were almost equally annoyed because the harvest-beer was to be of a lower specific gravity. The storm of "supplementaries" showed no sign of abating, until the SPEAKER, who rarely fails to find the appropriate phrase, remarked upon "This thirst for information," and so dissolved the House in laughter. * * * * * [Illustration: _Gunner (home on leave)_. "WAITER, MY NEIGHBOUR'S EFFORTS WITH HIS SOUP (BY THE WAY, I'M SURE HE OUGHT TO BE INTERNED) ARE MORE THAN I CAN BEAR. WOULD YOU OBLIGE ME BY ASKING THE BAND TO PUT UP A BARRAGE?"] * * * * * THE WEARY WATCHER. ["Almost exactly a month ago--on May 30th--I advised my readers to 'Watch Karolyi,' and now I emphasize the advice."--_"The Clubman" in The Evening Standard, July 2nd_.] Since very early in the War My Mentors in the Press Have never failed in warning me, By way of S.O.S., To keep my eye on So-and-So In times of storm and stress. I think that WINSTON was the first Commended to my gaze, But very soon I found my eyes-- Tired by the limelight's blaze-- Incapable of following His strange and devious ways. I watched the PRESIDENT and thought (Unjustly) he was canting; I watched our late PRIME MINISTER When furious scribes were ranting, And vigilantly bent my looks On HARDEN and on BRANTING. I watched JONESCU, also JONES (Great KENNEDY) and HUGHES; I sought illumination from BILLING'S momentous views; I watched Freemasons, Socialists, And Salonica Jews. And lately with emotions which Transcend the power of rhymes I've scanned with reverential eye Those highly-favoured climes Ennobled by the presence of The ruler of the T***s. I've glued my eye on seer and sage, On Mecca's brave Sherif; I've fastened it on what's-his-name, The famed Albanian chief, Till, wearying of the watcher's task, At length I crave relief. So when I'm bidden at this stage To start the game anew And keep KAROLYI constantly And carefully in view, I think I'm wholly justified In answering, "Nah Poo!" * * * * * AN EQUIVOCAL COMPLIMENT. "Dundee," said one of its leading citizens at the luncheon, "will stand by Mr. Churchill to the last letter."--_Daily Chronicle_. Evidently "l" itself would not sever Mr. CHURCHILL'S connection with his old friends. * * * * * "$20 buys a horse, good in his wind, if sold at once."--_Canadian Paper_. Better not wait for his second wind. * * * * * "Coow wanted, first week in August, for Lads Brigade Camp, 120 Lads; must be used to Field kitchens." It looks like being "bad for the coow." * * * * * GEMS FROM THE JUNIORS. WAR WORK. War work is what wimmen do when their arnt enuff men. Or men do it too sometimes if they are rather old and weak and cant be soldiers, but it is mostly wimmen. Some war work you get paid for but some you don't. It just depens whether you are rich and do V A D or poor and do munisions and things. V A D means something but I forget what. My brother says it means Very Active Damsles but you cant beleive him, and anyway no one talks of damsles nowydays besept in potry. If you are a V A D you have to do as your told just like a soldier but Daddy says they don't do it always, and Mummy says its because they all know a better way than the other persons. But then they don't cost anything so the hospitle people don't mind much. If you do munisions or are a bus conductor you do get paid so you maynt talk so much or you would get sent away. If I dident have to go to scool I would love to be a bus conducter and go rides for nothing. PHYLLIS BLAKE (age 10). * * * * * MY FAVRIT HERO. A Hero is a man you agmire teribly much or he can be in a book. It is rather dificult to say who is my favrit Hero. There are such a lot of them. Some are lord French genrel Maud King Albert and the VCs. When I was litle I use to think the man who fed the Lions at the zoo was the most bravest man in the wurld but that was ever so long ago before the War. I don't no very much about King Albert and the Others so I wont rite about them. I will rite about lord French. I agmire him most awfuly. I saw him once. He was coming from the camp were my Brother was and he smiled at me quite on perpose. But he doesent no me realy and praps that wont show he is a Hero. But he is one all the same becos he had only a weeny litle Army at the Begining of the war and he helped them to hold tite until more Men came. Or the Germans would have wun. He was only sir then now he is a lord. MOLLY PRITCHARD (age 7-1/2). * * * * * "Berlin declares that the Russians have begun an offensive which extends from the Upper Stokhod to Stanislau, a distance of over 125 metres."--_Daily Telegraph_. Never believe what Berlin says. * * * * * AT THE PLAY. "MRS. POMEROY'S REPUTATION." Candour (subacid virtue) compels me to set down that there was nothing very notable or novel about the manipulation, by Messrs. HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL and THOMAS COBB, of the comedy of needless complications entitled _Mrs. Pomeroy's Reputation_. The occasion was chiefly notable for the return of Miss VIOLET VANBRUGH to active service and the welcome she was given by her splendidly loyal following. _Sir Granville Pomeroy_, childless head of an odious family, has designs on, and for, the son of his brother's pretty widow, he suspecting her to be no fit and proper person to bring up a young _Pomeroy_. And indeed three short months after her husband's death she played bridge, bought a kimono and an expensive carpet, and, it is said, even flirted. Why such recklessness? Well, she discovered a stray daughter of her sainted husband. The irregular mother died, and of course solid _Mrs. Pomeroy_ with the bubble reputation did the handsome thing, and shut her mouth until the fatal moment in the Third Act, when it all came out. Whereby and wherein she discovered that the philandering _Vincent Dampier_ could trust where the solemn _Maurice Randall_ could not. As a side issue the blameless baronet had a little goose to wife, who went to _Dampier's_ Maidenhead bungalow and fell into the river. Elaborate lies to explain quite simple situation to fool anxious to believe the worst. Moral: Never lie to save a little goose. [Illustration: LETTICE AND IMPROMPTU DRESSING. _Lettice_ MISS LETTICE FAIRFAX. _Georgina_ MISS VIOLET VANBRUGH. _Vincent Dampier_ MR. FRANK ESMOND.] Miss VIOLET VANBRUGH was patently nervous with her part, a little jerky and restless. She needn't have been. Loyalty would have carried her through a duller play, to say nothing of her charming looks and her queenly way of wearing a beautiful gown. Mr. LOWNE, as the baronet, made effective play with a quite impossible part in a quite futile situation, and held the reflector up to the best Mayfair Cockney with "_Georginar_ explains." He needn't apologise; we know it's true to life! The piece of acting that most cheered me was Mr. GRAHAME HERINGTON as the philanderer's manservant--a very tactful and observant performance. Mr. FRANK ESMOND, the philanderer, seemed ill at ease (partly art but partly nature, I judged, perhaps unjustly). Miss LETTICE FAIRFAX as the little goose was what I believe is known as adequate. T. * * * * * The Food Shortage. Letter received by a schoolteacher:-- "Dear Miss,--Will you please let Sam out about 20 minutes to 12 o'clock. His Granma is undergoing an operation this morning and I want Sam for dinner. Yours truly, Mrs. ----." * * * * * From a report of the British Music Convention:-- "'How the British piano can raise the trade to Imperil dignity' was the subject of an address."--_Scotsman_. We hope the British piano will resist the temptation. * * * * * "Portobello's dressing boxes for lady bathers are practically ready. There are fifteen boxes at the Band Stand enclosure, very much resembling ballot boxes in size, shape, and material."--_Edinburgh Evening Dispatch_. A happy thought to prepare the new voters for taking the plunge. * * * * * "The members of the Cabinet occupied specially reserved seats in the choir and lectern, where also the Lord Mayor was seated."--_Scotsman_. A little hard on the eagle. * * * * * From a cinema advertisement:-- "Actual Scenes of our Local Charming Cheddar Valley and the Beautiful West of England Coast Scenery, also predicting those Glorious Sunset Scenes that made Sir Alfred Turner 'famous.'"--_West Country Paper_. The General _will_ be pleased. * * * * * "To-day the weather has cleared, but the record according to a correspondent who, signing himself the 'oldest inhabitant,' has recently written to the press, stating that in 1178 there was snow on Simla on 14th April, has now been easily beaten."--_Rangoon Times_. The oldest inhabitant, however, is still undefeated. * * * * * MY CUTHBERT. For months I had been chasing Cuthbert. I had a store of withering phrases burning to be poured over his unmentionable head. Last Tuesday my opportunity arrived. A stranger was sitting comfortably in a deck-chair watching the vacant courts at the tennis club. His keen bronzed face and his obviously athletic body, clothed in white flannel, brought back to me the far days when the sharp clean crack in the adjoining field told of a loose one which had been got away square. I looked at him again and thought how glad he must be to get into mufti for a few days. I tell you this to show how unprejudiced I was. The only other signs of life were the two super-aborigines who inhabit the croquet patch and detest all other mankind. I approached one of them warily and asked a question. He regarded me with a bilious and suspicious eye. "Nothing whatever to do with the Army," he snapped, and a Prussian-blue opponent was smacked off into an arid and hoopless waste. "Ah!" I exclaimed, "then he's only a rabbit after all." The old thing gave me an unfriendly glance and then missed his hoop badly. I strolled across and sat down beside the newcomer. He smiled at me in a frank and disarming manner. "What do you think of our courts?" I said by way of a start. "Top-hole," he replied; "I'm looking forward to some jolly games on 'em." His obvious disregard of perspective annoyed me. In our village, tennis is now played for hygienic reasons only. "I'm afraid we can't offer you much of a game," I said. "You see there's a war on, and--but perhaps I can fix up a single for you after tea with old Patterby. I believe he was very hot stuff in the seventies." "That's very good of you. I expect he'll knock my head off; I'm no use at the game yet." He spoke as though an endless and blissful period of practice was in front of him. "I suppose you'll be going back soon?" "Back where?" "I mean your leave will be up." "Oh, I'm out of a job just now." So it was genuine blatant indifference. I looked round for something with which to slay him. "I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "if I shall ever find my tennis legs again." "Have you lost them?" I asked sarcastically. "I'm afraid so--er--that is, of course, only one of them really." "Only one of them?" I repeated vaguely. "Yes, Fritzie got it at Jutland; but these new mark gadgets are top-hole. I can nearly dance the fox-trot with mine already." He stretched out the gadget in question and patted it affectionately. The ensuing moment I count as the worst one I have ever known. I had forgotten the Navy. My only excuse is that nowadays, owing to its urgent and unadvertised affairs, we seldom have an opportunity in our village of meeting the Senior Service. But I feel convinced that the irascible Methuselah on the croquet ground was purposely and maliciously guilty of _suppressio veri_. * * * * * [Illustration: "OLE BILL SEZ 'E 'ARDLY NEVER SEES 'IS MISSUS NAH." "OH! 'OW'S THAT, THEN?" "COS SHE'S ALL MORNIN' AN' ARTERNOON IN A SUGAR CUE, AND 'E'S ALL EVENIN' IN A BEER CUE."] * * * * * "Wanted, good Man, to cut, make, and trim specials."--_Yorkshire Paper._ In Yorkshire the new policeman's lot doesn't seem to be a very happy one. * * * * * HEART-TO-HEART TALKS. (_The German CROWN PRINCE and Ex-King CONSTANTINE._) _Crown Prince_. My poor old TINO, you are certainly not looking yourself. Have a drink? _Tino._ No, thank you. I really don't feel up to it. _C. P._ But that's the moment of all others when you ought to take one. It's good stuff too--bubbly wine out of the cellar of one of my French châteaux. Come, I'll pour you out a glass. _Tino._ Well, if I must I must (_drinks_). Yes, there's no fault to be found with it. _C. P._ You're looking better already. Now you can tell me all about it. _Tino_ (_bitterly_). Oh, there's not much to tell, except that I was lured on by the promise of help, and when the crisis came there was no help, and so I had to go. _C. P._ (_humming an air_). And so, and so He had, he had to go. _Tino_. I beg your pardon. _C. P._ Sorry, old man, but the words fitted into the tune so nicely I really couldn't resist trying it. Fire ahead. _Tino_. I said, I think, that I was promised help. _C. P._ Yes, you said that all right. _Tino_. And I added that there was no help when the trouble came. _C. P._ You said "crisis," not "trouble," but we won't insist on a trifle like that. Who was the rascal who broke his promise and refused to help you? _Tino_. You know well enough that it was your most gracious father. _C.P._ What! The ALL-HIGHEST! The INMOSTLY BELOVED! The BEYOND-ALL-POWERFUL! Was it really he? And you believed him, did you? What a cunning old fox it is, to be sure. _Tino_. You permit yourself to speak very lightly of the AUGUST ONE, who also happens to be your father. _C. P._ To tell you the truth, I don't take him as seriously as he takes himself. Nobody could. _Tino_. After what has happened I certainly shall not again. It's entirely owing to him that I've lost my kingdom and that the hateful VENIZELOS is back in Athens and that ALEXANDER is seated on my throne. If your beloved father had only left me alone I should have worried through all right. _C. P._ I always tell him he tries to do too much, but he's so infatuated with being an Emperor that there's no holding him. You know he's absolutely convinced that he and the Almighty are on special terms of partnership. _Tino_. I've done a bit myself in that line and I know it doesn't pay. _C. P._ I daresay I shall do it when my time comes. _Tino_. If it ever comes. _C. P._ If it depended on me alone things would go all right. I'm told the people like me, and even the Socialists swear by me. _Tino_. How can you believe such nonsense? I tried to act on that principle and here I am. And poor Russian NICKIE has had an even worse fall--all through believing he had the people on his side. _C. P._ Well, but I _know_ they're all fond of me; but my All-Highest One may get knocked out before I get my chance, and may carry me down with him. _Tino_. Well, we must try to bear up, even if he should go the way NICKIE has gone. In the meantime the War doesn't look particularly promising, does it? _C. P._ It certainly doesn't; and the Americans will be at our throats directly. Do you know, I never thought very much of HINDENBURG. _Tino_. I suppose you know someone who is younger and could do it much better. * * * * * [Illustration: SOMEWHERE UP NORTH. _Naval Officer (to native)_. "CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE THE GOLF COURSE IS?" _Native_. "YOU'RE ON THE FIRST GREEN THE NOO. YON'S THE FLAG OWER THE BACK O' THAT STANE."] * * * * * "The difference between the classical Arabic and the colloquial is far greater than that between the Greek of Cicero and the Greek of, let us say, M. Gounaris."--_The Near East_. Of course there is also the difference of accent. CICERO spoke Greek with a slight Roman accent and M. GOUNARIS speaks it with a strong German one. * * * * * "Two van-loads of shrapnel bullets were stopped by detectives in Prospect Street, Rotherhithe."--_Morning Paper_. Tough fellows, these detectives. Stopping a single bullet would put most men out of action. * * * * * "Wanted, Cottage or two Double-bedded Rooms, in country river, 20-30 miles from Birmingham, first fortnight of August."--_Daily Post (Birmingham)_. So convenient for friends to drop in. * * * * * "If the latest air raid does not make the British bull-dog show his talons in a way that we have up till now wished he might never do, well nothing will."--_Berwick Journal_. With his new pedal equipment the British bull-dog should give the German eagle pause. * * * * * We are asked to state that a recently published work on _Beds and Hunts_ (METHUEN) is not a companion-volume to _Minor Horrors of War_. * * * * * TO THE MEN WHO HAVE DIED FOR ENGLAND. All ye who fought since England was a name, Because Her soil was holy in your eyes; Who heard Her summons and confessed Her claim, Who flung against a world's time-hallow'd lies The truth of English freedom--fain to give Those last lone moments, careless of your pain, Knowing that only so must England live And win, by sacrifice, the right to reign-- Be glad, that still the spur of your bequest Urges your heirs their threefold way along-- The way of Toil that craveth not for rest, Clear Honour, and stark Will to punish wrong! The seed ye sow'd God quicken'd with His Breath; The crop hath ripen'd--lo, there is no death! * * * * * [Illustration: THE LINKS BEING DEVOTED TO ALLOTMENTS, MR. AND MRS. BUNKER-BROWNE PRACTISE APPROACH SHOTS, WITH THE IDEA OF FILLING THEIR BASKET WITH POTATOES AT THE SAME TIME.] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) _Marmaduke_ (HEINEMANN) has this peculiarity, that the title rôle is by no means its most important or interesting character. Indeed it might with more propriety have been called _Marrion_, since hers is not only the central figure in the plot, but emphatically the one over which Mrs. F. A. Steel has expended most care and affection. Moreover the untimely death of _Marmaduke_ leaves _Marrion_ to carry on the story for several chapters practically single-handed. I am bound to say, however, that at no stage did she get much help from her colleagues, all of whom--the gouty old father and his intriguing wife, the faithful servant, even debonair _Marmaduke_ himself--bear a certain air of familiarity. But if frequent usage has something lessened their vitality, _Marrion_ is a living and credible human being, whether as daughter of a supposed valet, adoring from afar the gay young ensign, or as the unacknowledged wife of _Marmaduke_ and mother of his child, or later as an army nurse amid the horrors of Crimean mismanagement. Later still, when the long arm of coincidence (making a greater stretch than I should have expected under Mrs. Steel's direction) brought _Marrion_ to the bedside of her parent in a hospital tent, and converted her into a Polish princess, I lost a little of my whole-hearted belief in her actuality. There are really two parts to the tale--the Scotch courtship, with its intrigues, frustrated elopements, _et hoc genus omne_; and the scenes, very graphically written, of active service at Varna and Inkerman. I will not pretend that the two parts are specially coherent; but at least Mrs. Steel has given us some exceedingly interesting pictures of a period that our novelists have, on the whole, unaccountably neglected. * * * * * _The Experiments of Ganymede Bunn_ (HUTCHINSON) is like to command a wide audience. Its appeal will equally be to the lovers of Irish scenes, to those who affect stories about horses and hunting, and to the countless myriads who are fond of imagining what they would do with an unexpected legacy. It was this last that happened to _Ganymede_, who was left seventeen thousand pounds by an aunt called _Juno_ (the names of this family are not the least demand that Miss Dorothea Conyers makes upon your credulity). My mention of horses and Ireland shows you what he does with his money, and where. It does not, however, indicate the result, which is a happy variant upon what is usual in such cases. You know already, I imagine, the special qualities to be looked for in a tale by Miss Conyers--chief among them a rather baffling inability to lie a straight course. If I may borrow a metaphor from her own favourite theme, she is for ever dashing off on some alluring cross-scent. More important, fortunately, than this is the enjoyment which she clearly has in writing her stories and passes briskly on to the reader. There's a fine tang of the open-air about them, and a smell of saddle-leather, that many persons will consider well worth all the intricacies of your problem-novelists. I had the idea that her honest vulgar little legatee and his speculations as a horse-breeder might make a good subject for a character-comedian; but I suppose the late LORD GEORGE SANGER is the only man who could have produced the right equine cast. * * * * * The component elements of _The White Rook_ (CHAPMAN AND HALL) may be summarised in the picturesque argot of Army Ordnance somewhat as follows: Chinamen, inscrutable, complete with mysterious drugs, one; wives, misunderstood, Mark I, one; husbands, unsympathetic (for purposes of assassination only), one; _ingénues_, Mark II, one; heroes, one; squires, brutal, one; murders of sorts, three; ditto, attempted, several. The inscrutable one is responsible for all the murders. Only the merest accident, it seems, prevents him from disposing of the few fortunate characters who survive to the concluding chapters of the story. He narrowly misses the misunderstood wife (now a widow, thanks to his kind offices), and his failure to bag the hero and _ingénue_ (together with a handful of subsidiary characters) is only a matter of minutes. There is almost a false note about the last chapter, in which the Oriental commits suicide before he has completed his grisly task; but it was obviously impossible for anyone in the book to live happily ever after so long as he remained alive. Just how Mr. HARRIS BURLAND and the villainous figment of his lively imagination perform these deeds of dastard-do is not for me to reveal. The publishers modestly claim that in the school of WILKIE COLLINS this author has few rivals. As regards complexity of plot the claim is scarcely substantiated by the volume before me; but if bloodshed be the food of fiction Mr. BURLAND may slay on, secure in his pre-eminence. * * * * * The _Rev. Frank Farmer_, hero of Mr. RICHARD MARSH'S _The Deacon's Daughter_ (LONG), was the youthful, good-looking and eloquent Congregationalist minister of the very local town of Brasted, and the ladies of his flock adored him. So earnestly indeed did they adore him that, after he had preached a stirring series of sermons on the evils of gambling, they decided to subscribe and send him for a holiday to Monte Carlo. On his return he was to preach another course of sermons, which "would rouse the national conscience and, with God's blessing, the conscience of all Europe." Possibly you can guess what happened to him; I did, and I am not a good guesser. The _Rev. Frank_ had never been out of England, and he found Monte Carlo inhabited by ladies who made him blush. He could not understand their bold ways, so different from the manner of the Brasted maidens. One of them laid especial siege to him and assured him that he had "_la veine_." At first I am inclined to believe that he thought she was talking of something varicose, but when he understood what she meant he was at her mercy. In short he tried his luck, to the dismay of his conscience but with prodigious benefit to his pocket. His return to Brasted is described with excellent irony. * * * * * Mr. WILL IRWIN'S war-book naturally divides itself into two parts, since he was lucky enough to get near the Front both about Verdun during the great attack, and with the Alpini fighting on "the roof of Armageddon." To these brave and picturesque friends of ours he dedicates his study, _The Latin at War_ (CONSTABLE). You must not expect much of that inside information which the author, as an American journalist, must have been sorely tempted to produce. Indeed he has little to offer us that has not been common property of the Correspondents for long enough, and several of his descriptions (his picture of a glacier, for one), given with a rather irritatingly childlike air of new discovery, cannot escape the charge of commonplace. But his reflections, for once in a way the better half of experience, more than make good this defect. His essay on Paris, for instance--"the city of unshed tears"--is something more than interesting, and his analysis of the cause of the successes of the French army, in the face of initial defects of material, even better. The author of _Westward Ho!_, considering the Spanish and English navies of ELIZABETH'S time, found precisely the same contrasted elements of autocracy and brotherliness producing just those results that we find respectively in the German and French forces of to-day--on the one hand a mechanical perfection of command, on the other an informed equality which, somehow, does not make against efficiency whilst fostering individuality. Mr. IRWIN hardly refers to our own Army; but one is thankful to remember that discipline by consent, one of the virtues of true democracy, is not the exclusive tradition of our French allies. * * * * * _A London Posy_ (MILLS AND BOON) is a story with at least an original setting. So far as I know, Miss SOPHIE COLE is the first novelist to group her characters about an actual London house preserved as a memorial to former inhabitants. The house in question is that in Gough Square, where Dr. JOHNSON lived, and two of the chief characters are _George Constant_, the curator, and his sister, to whom the shrine is the most precious object in life ("housemaid to a ghost," one of the other personages rather prettily calls her). It therefore may well be that to ardent devotees of the great lexicographer this story of what might have happened in his house to-day will make a stronger appeal than was the case with me, who (to speak frankly) found it a trifle dull. It might be said, though perhaps unkindly, that Miss COLE looks at life through such feminine eyes that all her characters, male and female, are types of perfect womanhood. In _Denis Laurie_, the gentle essayist and recluse, one might expect to find some feminine attributes; but even the bolder and badder lots, whose task it is to supply the melodramatic relief, struck me as oddly unvirile. But this is only a personal view. Others, as I say, may find this very gentle story of mild loves and two deserted wives a refreshing contrast to the truths, so much stranger and more lurid than any fiction, by which we are surrounded. * * * * * [Illustration: [Owing to a scarcity of literary matter at the Front, our soldiers are sometimes reduced to telling each other tales.] Private Jones. "AND SHE _SAYS_, 'OH! WOT BLINKIN' GREAT EYES YOU 'AVE, GRANDMOTHER!' AND THE WOLF, 'E SAYS, 'ALL THE BETTER TER SEE YER WIV, MY DEAR.'"]

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 153, July 11, 1917

Various

['en']

36

{'English wit and humor -- Periodicals'}

PG10143

Text

THE PROGRESS OF ETHNOLOGY AN ACCOUNT OF RECENT ARCHÆOLOGICAL, PHILOLOGICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL RESEARCHES IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE GLOBE. TENDING TO ELUCIDATE THE PHYSICAL HISTORY OF MAN. BY JOHN RUSSELL BARTLETT, COR. SEC. OF THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY, AND FOREIGN COR. SEC. OF THE NEW YORK HIST. SOCIETY. SECOND EDITION. NEW YORK: BARTLETT & WELFORD, 7 ASTOR HOUSE. 1847. NEW YORK: WILLIAM VAN NORDEN, PRINTER, NO. 39 WILLIAM STREET. CONTENTS. NORTH AMERICA. EXPLORATIONS and Discoveries in the Mounds and other earth-works in Ohio. Similar researches and their results in Mississippi and Louisiana.... Mr. Jomard's essay on the tablet found in the Grave Creek mound in Virginia, p. 1. CALIFORNIA AND NEW MEXICO--Recent explorations in these countries, with accounts of the Navijo and Moqui Indians; architectural remains on the banks of the Gila.... French explorations in the Isthmus of Panama, p. 15. RESEARCHES IN GREENLAND, and the Arctic regions; geographical and historical results.... Late attempts for exploring the northern portions of the American Continent, p. 21. SOUTH AMERICA. Details of the Scientific Expedition under Count Castelnau, sent by the French government for exploring the interior of South America.... English expedition under Lord Ranelagh--other scientific expeditions.... Peruvian antiquities, etc. etc., p. 27. AFRICA. Recent attempts for exploring the interior of Africa.... Mr. Thomson's journey from Sierra Leone.... Mr. Duncan's journey northward from Dahomey. Missionary operations at the Gaboon.... Mr. Richardson's journey into the great desert of Sahara.... The French expedition up the Senegal, under Mr. Raffenel.... Extensive project for the exploration of Soudan, in Central Africa.... Proposed expedition for penetrating the country from the eastern side.... Contributions to the geography of Southern Africa.... Mr. Maizan's unfortunate attempt to reach the interior from Zanzibar, p. 32. ALGIERS--scientific explorations by the French Government; interesting results; errors respecting the desert of Sahara, p. 41. DISCOVERY of the ancient LYBIAN alphabet, by M. de Saulcy, p. 44. The BERBERS; late researches into their language, p. 45. MADAGASCAR; recent visits of the French, p. 47. EGYPT; results of the late explorations; state of hieroglyphic and Coptic literature; Egyptian history and chronology, p. 48. EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. BORNEO--Mr. Brooke's colony; the Dyaks.... The Dutch and other European colonies in the East Indies.... New Caledonia islands.... The Sooloo islands. The Nicobar islands, p. 54. AUSTRALIA; accounts of late explorations, by Count Strzelecki, Dr. Leichardt and others, p. 63. ASIA. ASIA MINOR--Interesting discoveries in Lycia, p. 69. ARABIA--Historical and philological results of the researches in Southern Arabia, the country of the ancient Himyarites; importance of these discoveries in elucidating Scriptural history, p. 73. THE CAUCASUS--Exploration by M. Hommaire de Hell.... Sclavonic MSS. and inscriptions, p. 84. ASSYRIA AND PERSIA--History of the study of the ancient arrow-headed inscriptions.... Extraordinary results therefrom.... The Zendavesta.... The Zend language.... The great inscription of Darius.... Explorations at Nineveh. Journeys of Dr. Robert; of Prince Waldemar, etc., p. 84. SIBERIA--Journeys of Count Middendorff and others; geographical and ethnographical results, p. 109. INDIA--Progress of civilization; importance of missionary labors, p. 113. SIAM--Decline of Boodhism; extension of Christianity, p. 117. COCHIN-CHINA--Visit of Mr. Hedde to Turon, in Annam, p. 118. CHINA--Latest accounts from, p. 119. COREA--Efforts of the Catholic missionaries to christianize the natives, p. 123. MANCHURIA....MONGOLIA--Recent accounts from these countries; journey of Rev. Mr. Huc, in Mongolia, p. 125. LEW-CHEW ISLANDS--Attempt to establish a mission, by Rev. Mr. Forcade; notices of the people, their manners, customs, and language, p. 127. JAPAN--Recent attempts to communicate with the Japanese; peculiarities of this people.... General view of the languages of the Japanese, Coreans, Chinese, and Cochin-Chinese, p. 131. THE PROGRESS OF ETHNOLOGY AND GEOGRAPHY. NORTH AMERICA. I have the pleasure of laying before the New York Historical Society a brief account of the progress which has been made during the past year towards extending our knowledge of the globe, particularly with reference to its geography, and to those nations whose history is imperfectly known. The subject is one that more properly belongs to ethnology, but the historical results which are deduced from these enquiries come within the scope of the objects, the elucidation of which belongs to this Society. A new impulse has lately been given to the study of American Antiquities. A brief account of recent investigations carried on in a portion of the West and South will show that we possess much that is interesting, and which will throw light on a neglected branch of aboriginal history and ethnology. Every enquirer into the origin and purposes of the monuments and ancient remains of the Mississippi valley has regretted the limited number and poorly attested character of the facts, of which the public are in possession, respecting them. The practical investigations made from time to time by various individuals, have not been sufficiently thorough and extensive, nor have they developed sufficient data to warrant or sustain any definite or satisfactory conclusions. They have served rather to provoke enquiries which they could in no degree satisfy, than to afford information on the subject with which they were connected. It was under a strong sense of the deficiencies in our stock of information in this branch of knowledge, that two gentlemen of Chillicothe, Ohio, Dr. Davis and Mr. E.G. Squier, undertook the exploration of the ancient remains which abound in the state of Ohio, and particularly of those in the valley of the Scioto river. It is known that there exists in this region vast numbers of mounds, of various dimensions, and extensive embankments of earth, enclosing in some instances many acres of ground. Beside these there are ditches, walls, causeways and other works of a greater or less extent. The examination of these, by opening the mounds, and making accurate surveys of the other works constitute the labors of these gentlemen, some of the results of which may be stated in anticipation of a full account which will shortly appear. Though their labors at first promised to end in increased doubt and uncertainty, they were abundantly rewarded as their enquiries progressed. Out of confusion, system began to develope itself, and what seemed accidents, were found to be characteristics. What was regarded as anomalous, was recognized as a type and feature of a class, and apparent coincidences became proofs of design. For instance, it was remarked among the numerous tumuli opened, that certain ones were stratified, while others were homogeneous in their composition. Further observation showed that stratified tumuli occupy a certain fixed position with regard to other works, which the unstratified tumuli do not. Still further examinations demonstrated that the contents of those respective tumuli are radically and invariably different. Here then was established: 1st. That the mounds are not, as is generally supposed, identical in character and purpose. 2d. That one class occupies a fixed position with regard to works of a different character, the design of which is to be determined, to some degree, by the peculiarities and the contents of this description of mounds, etc. It will be seen, at once, that a close observation of facts of this kind is absolutely essential, to arrive at any reasonable conclusions, regarding the purposes of these ancient structures, their origin, or the character or customs of the people by whom they were built. The investigations of Dr. Davis and Mr. Squier, were therefore conducted so as to permit the escape of no fact which might tend to elucidate the mystery in which our antiquities are shrouded. The excavations were made under their personal direction, and the results may be briefly stated, without detailing the facts in support of each conclusion, as follows. The number of enclosures or earthworks which have been surveyed by them, and of which they have taken careful admeasurements, exceeds _ninety_. The number of tumuli which have been excavated and their characteristics noted, amounts to _one hundred and fifteen_. Of the first class of works, it has been sufficiently demonstrated, that a small proportion were intended for works of defence; that another portion were sacred places, or in some way connected with religious or superstitious rites, while a third and much the larger number are entirely inexplicable in our present state of information. The tumuli are divided into three grand classes, which are broadly marked in the aggregate, though there are individual instances of an anomalous character. These are: 1st. Tumuli of sepulture, each containing a single skeleton enclosed in a rude, wooden coffin, or an envelope of bark or matting, and occurring in isolated or detached groups. 2d. Tumuli of sacrifice, containing symmetrical altars of stone or burnt clay, occurring within or in the immediate vicinity of enclosures, and always stratified. 3d. Places of observation, or mounds raised upon elevated or commanding positions. Within these monuments have been found implements and ornaments of silver, copper, lead, stone, ivory and pottery, fashioned into a thousand forms, and evincing a skill in art, to which the existing race of Indians, at the time of their discovery, could not approach. Marine shells, mica from the primitive regions, native copper from the shores of lake Superior, galena from the upper Mississippi, cetacean teeth, pearls and instruments of _obsidian_, show the extent of communication and intercourse had by the authors of these ancient works. Sculptures of animals, birds and reptiles have been found in great numbers and variety, exhibiting a skill which few could now surpass. Also, sculptures of the human head, disclosing most probably the character of the physiognomy, as well as the manner of adjusting the hair, the head dress and ornaments of the mound-builders. Careful admeasurements of the earth works which abound in the Ohio valley, have been made by the gentlemen alluded to, in which the interesting fact has been developed, that many of them are perfect circles and squares, and hence that the people by whom they were constructed had some means of determining angles and of constructing circles. In some of those earth-heaps, sufficient remains to show that when in a perfect state, they resembled the _teocallis_ or terraced edifices of Mexico and Yucatan, though they were composed wholly of wood and earth. The number of works manifestly connected in some way with their religion, guide us to some estimate of the prominence which their superstitions occupied, and that a religious system existed among them, in some degree resembling that of the ancient Mexicans. The immense tumuli heaped over the remains of the dead, show the regard which they attached to their chiefs, and the veneration in which they held their memory. The number and extent of their remains of all kinds, which occupy the fertile valleys, and which are confined almost entirely to them, indicate that an immense population once existed there, that it was stationary and therefore agricultural;[1] and if agricultural and stationary, that a different organization of society, different manners and customs, different impulses and feelings existed among them, than are to be found among the hunter and nomadic tribes, discovered by Europeans in possession of the country. Another class of antiquities has been discovered by these gentlemen, of which we only have the particulars in a letter. These consist of rocks sculptured with figures of men, of birds and animals. They are cut in outline, the lines being from one half to three quarters of an inch deep by about the same width. Only those on the sides of the rocks are visible. Those on the upper or horizontal faces are nearly obliterated. One represents an elk and is said to be very spirited. What may result from the future researches of Dr. Davis and Mr. Squier, remains to be seen; but sufficient has been developed to show that a people, radically different from the existing race of Indians, once occupied the valley of the Mississippi, and built the singular monuments in which it abounds. These also show that they were to a certain extent advanced in the arts and civilization. In short that they closely resembled in the character of their structures, ornaments and implements of war and husbandry, the races of Central America; if they were not indeed their progenitors or an offshoot from them. Many facts strongly point to such a conclusion and farther observations carefully conducted, will probably enable us to settle the question beyond a doubt. A detailed account of the researches of the gentlemen alluded to, accompanied by numerous engravings representing the implements, ornaments and sculptures, &c., discovered in their excavations;--surveys of the various earth works, forts and enclosures in the Scioto valley, will be given in the second volume of the Transactions of the American Ethnological Society, now preparing for publication. They are still actively engaged in their labors, and intend, should the facilities be extended them to carry on their operations, to examine every ancient relic to be found in Ohio and the adjacent parts, where these remains exist. Among the explorations which have been carried on in the United States, none possess a greater interest than those of Dr. M.W. Dickeson, in the south western states, chiefly in Mississippi, though in some instances extending to Alabama, Louisiana, and Texas. Dr. Dickeson has laid open or examined one hundred and fifty mounds and tumuli, of various dimensions and collected a vast number of interesting relics, which illustrate the customs and arts of the ancient people who built them. The mounds vary from three to ninety feet in height, and from twelve to three hundred feet in diameter at the base. The Seltzer Town mound contains a superficies of eight acres on its summit. On digging into it vast quantities of human skeletons were found, chiefly with their heads flattened, and measuring generally six feet in length. Numerous specimens of pottery, including finely finished vases filled with pigments, ashes, ornaments, and beads, were also found. The north side of this mound is supported with a wall two feet thick, of sun dried bricks, filled with grass, rushes and leaves. In order to ascertain whether this immense tumulus was artificial or not, Dr. Benbrook, sank a shaft forty two feet, and found it artificial or made ground to that depth. Immense quantities of bones, both of men and animals, among the latter the head of a huge bear, were thrown out. Other excavations were made in this tumulus with the same result, thus showing it to have been a vast mausoleum or cemetery of the ancient race. The mounds are generally in systems varying from seven to ten, which Dr. Dickeson has divided into six classes as follows: _out post_, _ramparts or walls_, _telegraphs or look outs_, _temples_, _cemeteries_, and _tent mounds_. The first is seldom more than thirty feet at the base by ten feet high. Their shape varies, presenting sometimes a pyramid, at others a cone, or rhomboid. Walls surround the second class, which are from ten to fifteen feet in heighth, the same across the top, and from forty to fifty feet at the base. The "_Look out_" mounds are seldom under sixty feet high. Of this class, Dr. Dickeson has examined upwards of ninety. They are generally on the summit of a hill, overlooking the bottom lands. Here they stand some three hundred feet above the bottom lands, commanding an extensive prospect, and in some instances one may see the peaks of several systems of mounds in the distance. The "_Temple mounds_" are seldom more than twenty feet high, and stratified with ashes, loam, gravel, &c. They all have an earthen floor. Dr. Dickeson has, but in a single instant, found a skeleton in these mounds, and in this, he thinks the subject a Choctaw Indian recently placed there. It lay in a horizontal position, differing from the usual mode of burial, which is the sitting posture. The "_Cemeteries_" are oval, and from six to ten feet high, filled with bones, lying east and west, and when incased in sarcophagi, the rows run in the same direction. In some instances Dr. Dickeson found the bones lying in heaps, promiscuously. These he believes to have been the _canaille_. The "_Tent or Structure mounds_" are small, and a short distance below their surface, fragments of brick and cement are found in great quantities; sometimes skeletons and pottery. Never more than six skeletons are found together, and more care is shown in the burial of these than in the "cemetery mounds." In one instance an angular tumulus was seen by the Doctor, with the corners quite perfect, formed of large bricks, bearing the impression of an extended hand.[2] Many mounds and tumuli are advantageously situated on the tops of ridges, surrounded with walls. Some of the latter have crumbled away, while others remain strong and perpendicular. In many instances, the walls that surround these groups of mounds, form perfect squares and circles. Dr. Dickeson adds that, "if from the centre of one of these groups a circle were traced, it would strike the centre of each mound, both large and small." They contain numerous fragments of walls, images, pottery, ornaments, etc. etc. The "Temples" are generally situated among the hills and ravines, with perpendicular escarpments, improved by artificial fortifications. The enclosures often embrace upwards of thirty acres. The great enclosure at "the Trinity" contains upwards of one hundred and fifty acres, and is partially faced with sundried brick. Upon the plantation of Mr. Chamberlain in Mississippi, the temple is flanked with several _bastions_, besides _squares_, _parallels_, _half moons_, and ravines with perpendicular escarpments for its defence. The ditches and small lakes are frequently chained for miles and filled with water, intended, the Doctor thinks, for outworks. In these, bricks are found both at the bottom and on the sides. Among the rubbish and vegetable deposits taken from them to put on the land, ornaments, and other relics are found. Wells and reservoirs, completely walled with burnt clay, are found in Louisiana; near which are "systems," or groups of mounds so regular and strongly fortified, that they became the retreat of pirates and robbers who infested the rivers, greatly disturbing the early settlers, after the massacre of the Natchez Indians by the French. The Natchez built large dikes or ditches, and upon the counterscarp piled up huge ramparts, which they made almost impregnable, by having one side flanked by the slope of a hill, surrounded by precipices. They are sometimes situated on the level "bottoms."[3] In these cases one side invariably faces a creek or bayou, or is in its bend, making the creek serve as a formidable ditch, offering a serious impediment to an enemy's approach. The other two sides are protected by parallel walls or half moons, with gateways leading to the citadel. These walls have indications of having been faced with dry masonry. The east and west corners are generally flanked with a small oval mound. In these tumuli and mounds numerous ornaments and pottery were found by Dr. Dickeson, buried with the occupants, such as idols, clay stamps, mica mirrors, stone axes, and arrow heads, silver and copper ornaments, rings, beads of jasper, chalcedony, agate, &c., similar to those found in Peru and Mexico. Several pearls of great beauty and lustre, an inch in diameter, have been found. By an examination of the skulls, Dr. D. discovered that _dentistry_ had been extensively practised by this ancient people, as plugging the teeth, and inserting artificial ones, was common. In one instance, five artificial teeth were found inserted in one subject. Ovens were found containing pottery partially baked, three feet below the surface, with large trees covering them, exhibiting an age of upwards of five hundred years. Magazines of arrow points, in one instance a "wagon body full," (about twenty bushels), lying within the space of a few feet. In a small mound in Adams county, Dr. D. found three large jars holding upwards of ten gallons of arrow points elaborately finished; and three similar in dimensions and finish, have lately been received by Dr. Morton, of Philadelphia, from South Carolina. Carvings representing the English bull dog, the camel and lama, have been found by Dr. Dickeson, from forty to sixty feet below the surface of the mound. The bricks, to which allusion has been made, are of various colors; some of a bright red, others dark brown, various shades of purple and yellow. Forty stamps of baked clay, containing a variety of figures used for stamping their skins. Pieces of coin, two of which found near Natches, had the figure of a bird on one side, and on the reverse an animal. The pottery found is quite extensive, some mounds have been opened in which were upwards of sixty vases, some quite plain, and others elaborately ornamented. Of the pottery, Dr. Dickeson has succeeded in getting upwards of a hundred fine specimens to Philadelphia, which are deposited with his other Indian relics and fossils, in the Museum of the Academy of Natural Sciences. Dr. Dickeson has kindly furnished me a catalogue of his collection of relics, from which I have selected the following to give an idea of the extent and variety of the objects found: 6000 Arrow points of jasper, chalcedony, obsidian, quartz, &c., &c. 150 Arrow points, finely polished, under one inch in length. 25 Arrow points, finely polished, under half an inch in length. 1600 Unfinished Arrow and Spear points. 250 small stone Axes. 40 Quoits, Weights, &c. 20 Paint mullers. 10 Corn grinders. 3 large stone Mortars. 14 small earthen Heads of men, women and boys. 6 stone Statues, erect and sitting. A great variety of personal ornaments of jasper, chalcedony, pottery, beads, pearls, war clubs, war axes, mica mirrors, carved ornaments, arm bracelets, bone carvings, earthen plates, handled saucers, earthen lamps, a variety of vessels for culinary purposes, stone chisels, two copper medals, the tusk of a Mastodon, six feet long, elaborately carved with a serpent and human figures; cylindrical tubes of jasper perforated, ornaments in pumice, (lava), seals, bricks, jars, cups and vases in every variety. In addition to these, Dr. Dickeson has made a collection of upwards of sixty crania of the ancient mound builders, out of many thousand skeletons discovered by him in his several explorations. These possess much interest in an Ethnographic point of view, for the rigid test to which all his results have been subjected, have satisfied him that these skulls belong to the ancient race. Like the gentlemen in Ohio, whose labors have been noticed, the Doctor can at once detect the mounds and remains of the ancient, from those of the modern race. Some mounds he has found to be the work of three periods. At the top were the remains of the present race of Indians; digging lower he found these remains accompanied by ancient Spanish relics, of the period of the earliest Spanish visit to these parts; and below these, he discovered the remains and relics of the ancient race. The inscribed tablet discovered in the grave-creek mound, Virginia, and which was noticed by Mr. Schoolcraft in the first volume of the Transactions of the American Ethnological Society, continues to excite much interest. Mr. Jomard of the French Institute, read a second paper on that subject last year, before the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-lettres at Paris, a copy of which he has transmitted to the Society.[4] He distinctly shows, that the letters of this curious inscription are identically the same as those of the Libyan on the monument of Thugga,[5] and of the Tuarycks used at this day. It is worthy of remark, that Mr. Hodgson in his "Notes on Africa,"[6] arrived at the same conclusion, without the knowledge that Mr. Jomard, some years previously, had asserted the Libyan character of this inscription, in a first note on the subject.[7] Such a coincidence gives force to the views adopted by both these gentlemen. The results to which the French savant has arrived, in his enquiry into this engraved stone or tablet, possess much interest, as it is the only relic yet discovered in North America, of an inscription bearing alphabetic characters,[8] which have been satisfactorily identified as such. This Numidian inscription, which title we may now apply to the engraved tablet in question, will be again alluded to, when we come to speak of the philological discoveries in Northern Africa, and of the Libyan alphabet. In conclusion Mr. Jomard observes, that at a remote period the Libyan language was spoken by various tribes in Northern Africa, and that it was a language written with characters, such as we now find on the Thugga edifice and other monuments; that it is still written with the same characters, particularly in the vicinity of Fezzan and in the deserts traversed by the Tuarycks, although this method of writing has been to so great an extent supplanted by Arabic letters that we must consider the Berber language, the language of Syouah, Sokna, Audjelah, and Gherma, as representing the remains of the ancient Libyan language in use in the most remote period; and finally, that in the interior of America, on a monument of which the age is unknown, but anterior to the settlement by Europeans, we find an engraved stone, bearing signs perfectly resembling the characters traced by the modern Tuarycks and by their ancestors, upon the rocks of Libya. Mr. Jomard's pamphlet contains an engraved table, in which are given, in parallel columns, the characters on the American tablet, the Tuaryck alphabet, the Thugga characters, and their value in Hebrew and Arabic. In connexion with this subject it may be added, that M. Berthelot, a learned traveller, states that there exists a striking affinity between the names of places and of men in the ancient language of the Canaries and certain Carib words.[9] The contiguity of the Canaries to the African continent is such, that we can readily suppose their ancient inhabitants to have had communication with it, whereby the Libyan language became known to them. A new field of enquiry is thus opened to philologists, and we may here seek for the means to unravel one of the most difficult questions connected with the origin of the American race, and the means by which they reached this continent, for we never have been among those who believed that America derived the mass of her population, her men and animals, from Asia, by the way of Behring's Straits. The author of a late work on California, New Mexico, &c., brings to our notice a tribe of Indians known as the Munchies (Mawkeys) or white Indians.[10] "This remarkable nation occupies a valley among the _Sierra de los Mimbros_ chain of mountains, upon one of the affluents of the river Gila, in the extreme northwestern part of the province of Sonora. They number about eight hundred persons. Their country is surrounded by lofty mountains at nearly every point, is well watered and very fertile. Their dwellings are excavated in the hill-sides, and frequently cut in the solid rock. They subsist by agriculture, and raise great numbers of horses, cattle and sheep. Among them are many of the arts and comforts of civilized life. They spin and weave, and make butter and cheese, with many of the luxuries known to more enlightened nations. Their government is after the patriarchal order, and is purely republican in its character. In morals they are represented as honest and virtuous. In religion they differ but little from other Indians. Their features correspond with those of Europeans, with a fair complexion and a form equally if not more graceful. In regard to their origin, they have lost all knowledge or even tradition; neither do their characters, manners, customs, arts or government savor of modern Europe." Another tribe of Indians called the Navijos, of whom we know but little, except that they have long had a place on the maps, is noticed by the same author. They occupy the country between the Del Norte and the Sierra Anahuac, in the province of Sonora, and have never succumbed to Spanish domination. "They possess a civilization of their own. Most of them live in houses built of stone, and cultivate the ground--raising vegetables and grain for a subsistence. They also raise large numbers of horses, cattle and sheep--make butter and cheese, and spin and weave." The blankets manufactured by these Indians are superior in beauty of color, texture and durability to the fabrics of their Spanish neighbors. Their government is in strict accordance with the welfare of the whole community. Dishonesty is held in check by suitable regulations, industry is encouraged by general consent, and hospitality by common practice. As warriors they are brave and daring, making frequent and bold excursions into the Spanish settlements, driving off herds of cattle, horses and sheep, and spreading terror and dismay on every side. As diplomatists, in imitation of their neighbors, they make and break treaties whenever interest and inclination prompts them.[11] The Navijo country is shut in by high mountains, inaccessible from without, except by limited passes through narrow defiles, well situated for defence on the approach of an invading foe. Availing themselves of these natural advantages, they have continued to maintain their ground against fearful odds, nor have they suffered the Spaniards to set foot within their territory as conquerors. The relations above given of the Mawkeys and Navijos (pronounced _Navihoes_, and sometimes so written), correspond with the accounts that from time to time have been brought to us, by hunters and trappers who have occasionally visited them. A few years since there appeared in the newspapers an account of both these tribes, by a trapper. He stated that the Mawkeys had "light, flaxen hair, blue eyes and skins of the most delicate whiteness."[12] I have two other accounts wherein both are described much as before stated. Their manufactures are particularly dwelt upon. Some of them wore shoes, stockings and other garments of their own make. Their stone houses are noticed as well as their large herds of cattle,--also their cultivation of fruits and vegetables. They raise cotton, which they manufacture into cloth, as well as wool. Fire arms are unknown to them. "Their dress is different from that of other Indians, and from their Spanish neighbors. Their shirts, coats and waistcoats are made of wool, and their small clothes and gaiters of deer skin." These accounts might be considered fanciful, had we not high authority which fully corroborates them. Humboldt says, "The Indians between the rivers Gila and Colorado, form a contrast with the wandering and distrustful Indians of the savannas to the east of New Mexico. Father Garces visited the country of the Moqui, and was astonished to find there an Indian town with two great squares, houses of several stories, and streets well laid out, and parallel to one another. The construction of the edifices of the Moqui is the same with that of the _Casas grandes_ on the banks of the Gila."[13] In Mr. Farnham's late work on California, is a notice of the Navijos from Dr. Lyman's report. The author begins by saying, that "they are the most civilized of all the wild Indians of North America."[14] Their extensive cultivation of maize and all kinds of vegetables--their rearing of "large droves of magnificent horses, equal to the finest horses of the United States in appearance and value," and their large flocks of sheep are also noticed. From the fleece of the sheep which is long and coarse resembling mohair, "they manufacture blankets of a texture so firm and heavy as to be perfectly impervious to water." They make a variety of colors with which they dye their cloths, besides weaving them in stripes and figures. They are constantly at war with the Mexicans, but stand in fear of the American trappers, with whom they have had some severe skirmishes, which resulted much to their disadvantage.[15] It is believed by Baron Humboldt and by others, that in the Navijos and Mawkeys we see the descendants of the same race of Indians which Cortez and the Spanish conquerors found in Mexico, in a semi-civilized state. We are unable to state whether any affinity exists between their language and the other Mexican dialects, as no vocabularies have been collected. The whiteness of their skins, their knowledge of the useful arts and agriculture, and the mechanical skill exhibited in their edifices at the present day, bear a striking analogy with the Mexican people at the period of the conquest, and as M. Humboldt observes, "appears to announce traces of the cultivation of the ancient Mexicans." The Indians have a tradition that 20 leagues north from the Moqui, near the mouth of the Rio Zaguananas, the banks of the Nabajoa were the first abode of the Aztecs after their departure from Atzlan. "On considering the civilization," adds Baron Humboldt, "which exists on several points of the northwest coast of America, in the Moqui and on the banks of the Gila, we are tempted to believe (and I venture to repeat it here) that at the period of the migration of the Toltecs, the Acolhues and the Aztecs, several tribes separated from the great mass of the people to establish themselves in these northern regions."[16] Connected with this subject and in evidence of the identity of these tribes with the Aztecs, it should be stated that there exists numerous edifices of stone in a ruined state, on the banks of the Gila, some of great extent, resembling the terraced edifices and teocallis of Mexico and Yucatan. One of these structures measures four hundred and forty-five feet in length by two hundred and seventy in breadth, with walls four feet in thickness. It was three stories high, with a terrace. The whole surrounding plain is covered with broken pottery and earthen ware, painted in various colors. Vestiges of an artificial canal are also to be seen.[17] Among the fragments are found pieces of obsidian, a volcanic substance not common to the country, and which is also found in the mounds in the Mississippi and Ohio valleys, in both cases applied to the same uses. Some valuable contributions to the geography and ethnology of the vast region lying between the Rocky Mountains and Upper California and Oregon, have been made by Capt. Fremont of the U.S. corps of Engineers. The expedition under his command traversed the great desert, and examined portions of the country not before visited by white men. The information collected by this enterprising traveller will be of much service to the country in the new relations which may arise between the United States and California, as well as to persons who are seeking new homes in Oregon. The report of Captain, (now Col.) Fremont has been so widely circulated, and rendered so accessible to all who feel an interest in the subject, that it would be superfluous to give any analysis of the work at this time. So satisfactory were the results of the expedition of this accomplished officer to the country and the government, that he has again been sent to make further explorations of the country south of that previously visited by him, and which lies between Santa Fé and the Pacific Ocean. Colonel Fremont has in this expedition already rendered important services to the country, having the command of a detachment of troops in Upper California. This armed body of men will give him great advantages over an ordinary traveller in a wild and inhospitable country, where there are still tribes of Indians which have not yet been subjugated by the Spaniards, and which an unprotected traveller could not approach. Much interest has been awakened from the accounts already received from Col. Fremont, and it is to be hoped that ere long we shall be placed in possession of full reports of his explorations, which must throw much light on the geography of this vast region, its aboriginal inhabitants, productions, climate, &c. An exploratory journey in the isthmus of Panama has recently been made by M. Hillert, which has resulted in adding much important information to our previous knowledge of the country. It is known that there have been many surveys of the isthmus, with the view of opening a water communication between the oceans on either side. Such was the primary object of Mr. Hillert, who, it appears has also made enquiries as to the practicability of making a rail road across it. His observations on the junction of the two oceans by means of a canal have appeared in the bulletin of the Geographical Society of Paris for 1846, (pp. 306 and 389), together with various letters from him on other subjects which attracted his attention. Among other things Mr. Hillert has made known a most valuable anti-venomous plant, the guaco, a creeping plant, which abounds in the forest of the Isthmus, the virtues of which were made known to him by the Indians. After rubbing the hands with the leaves of this plant, a person may handle scorpions and venomous insects with impunity, and mosquitoes after sucking the blood of those who had taken it inwardly died instantly. The geology and botany of the country received particular attention. M. Hillert proposes to introduce several of the most useful plants and vegetables into the French dominions in Senegal or Algeria, among them the plant from which the Panama hats are made. So valuable are the labors of this gentleman considered, that the French commission has awarded him the Orleans prize, for having introduced into France the most useful improvement in agriculture. Some ancient monumental edifices were discovered in the Isthmus, not far from the river Atrato, and others near the mines of Cano; besides these an ancient canal cut through the solid rock in the interval which separates the rivers Atrato and Darien. NOTE.--The following list embraces all the books relating to Oregon, California, and Mexico, printed during the last two years. Narrative of the exploring expedition to the Rocky Mountains, in the year 1842, and to Oregon and North California, in the years 1843-4, by Capt. J.C. Fremont of the Topographical Engineers, under the orders of Col. J.J. Abert, 8vo. Washington, 1846. Exploration du Territoire de l'Oregon, des Californies, et de la Mer Vermeille, executée pendant les années 1840, 41 et 42, par M. Duflot de Mofras, Attaché à la Légation de France à Mexico. 2 vols. 8vo. and folio atlas of maps and plates. Paris, 1845. The Oregon Territory, claims thereto, of England and America considered, its condition and prospects. By Alexander Simpson, Esq. 8vo. London, 1846. The Oregon Territory, a geographical and physical account of that country and its inhabitants. By Rev. C.G. Nicholay. 18mo. London, 1846. The Oregon Question determined by the rules of International law. By Edward J. Wallace of Bombay. 8vo. London, 1840. The Oregon question. By the Hon. Albert Gallatin. 8vo. New York, 1846. The Oregon Question examined, in respect to facts and the laws of nations. By Travers Twiss, D.C.L. 8vo. London, 1846. The Oregon Question as it stands. By M.B. Sampson. London, 1846. Prairiedom; Rambles and Scrambles in Texas and New Estremadura. By a Southron. 12mo. New York, 1846. Life in California during a residence of several years in that Territory. By an American. To which is annexed an historical account of the origin, customs and traditions of the Indians of Alta California, from the Spanish. Post 8vo. New York, 1846. An Essay on the Oregon Question, written for the Shakespeare Club. By E.A. Meredith. Montreal, 1846. The Topic No. 3. The Oregon Question. 4to. London, 1846. Life in Prairie Land. By Mrs. Eliza W. Farnham. 12mo. New York, 1846. Green's Journal of the Texan expedition against Mier; subsequent Imprisonment of the Author; his Sufferings, and final Escape from the Castle of Perote. With reflections upon the present political and probable future relations of Texas, Mexico, and the United States. Illustrated by Drawings taken from Life by Charles M'Laughlin, a Fellow-prisoner. Engravings. 8vo. Travels over the table lands and Cordilleras of Mexico, in 1843-4. With an appendix on Oregon and California. By Albert M. Gilliam, late U.S. Counsul, California. 8vo. Philadelphia, 1846. Recollections of Mexico. By Waddy Thompson, Esq., late Minister Plenipotentiary of the U.S. at Mexico. 8vo. New York, 1846. Altowan; or incidents of life and adventure in the Rocky Mountains. By an Amateur Traveller. Edited by James Watson Webb. 2 vol. 12mo. New York, 1846. Scenes in the Rocky Mountains, Oregon, California, New Mexico, Texas, and Grand Prairies, including descriptions of the different races inhabiting them, &c. By a New Englander. 12mo. Philadelphia, 1846. History of Oregon and California, and the other Territories on the North West Coast of North America: from their discovery to the present day. Accompanied by a geographical view of those countries. By Robert Greenhow. 8vo. third edition. Boston, 1847. GREENLAND AND THE ARCTIC REGIONS. The Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries published, in 1845, Grönlands Historiske Mindesmærker, (The Historical Monuments of Greenland), Vol. III., (958 pages, with 12 copperplates), which closes this work. The 1st and 2d volumes, (pp. 814 and 794 respectively), were published in 1838. After Professor Rafn had finished the compilation of his separate work, _Antiquitates Americanæ_, which was published by the Society in 1837, he connected himself with Professor Finn Magnusen, for the purpose of editing--also under the auspices of the Society--the great collection of original written sources of the ancient history of that remarkable polar land, which was first seen in 877, and colonized in 986. With a view of doing all that lay in its power to throw light on ancient Greenland, the Society, during the ten years from 1832 to 1841, caused journies to be undertaken and explorations to be performed in such of the Greenland firths as were of the greatest importance in respect of the ancient colonization. By excavations made among the ruins remaining from the ancient colony, there was obtained a collection of inscriptions and other antiquities, which are now preserved in the American Museum erected by the Society, and drawings were taken of the ground plans of several edifices. Of the reports received on this occasion, we must in an especial manner notice, as exhibiting evidence of the most assiduous care, and as moreover embracing the most important part of the country, the exploration undertaken by the Rev. George T. Joergensen, of the firths of Igalikko and Tunnudluarbik, where the most considerable ruins are situated. The present, vol. III., contains, extracts from annals, and a collection of Documents relating to Greenland, compiled by Finn Magnusen; (to this part appertains a plate exhibiting seals of the Greenland Bishops); ancient geographical writings, compiled by Finn Magnusen and Charles C. Rafn; the voyages of the brothers Zeno, with introductory remarks and notes by Dr. Bredsdorff; a view of more recent voyages for the re-discovery of Greenland, by Dr. C. Pingel, an antiquarian chorography of Greenland, drawn up by J.J.A. Warsaae, from the accounts furnished by various travellers of the explorations undertaken by them. The work is closed by a view of the ancient geography of Greenland, by Professor Charles C. Rafn, based on a collation of the notices contained in the ancient manuscripts and the accounts of the country furnished by the travellers. To which is added a list of the bishops and a chronological conspectus of the ancient and modern history of the country, a historical index of names, a geographical index, and an antiquarian index rerum. Copperplate maps are annexed of the two most important districts of ancient Greenland--the eastern settlement, (Eystribygd), and the western settlement, (Vestribygd), exhibiting the position of the numerous ruins. Moreover, plans and elevations of the most important ecclesiastical ruins and other rudera; also delineations of runic stones and other northern antiquities found in Greenland. _Scripta Historica Islandorum_, latine reddita et apparatu critico instructa, curante Societate Regia Antiquariorum Septentrionalium. Vol. XII. The edition first commenced by the Society, of the historical Sagas recording events which happened out of America, (Iceland, Greenland and Vinland), particularly in Norway, Sweden and Denmark, in the original Icelandic text with two translations, one into Latin, and another into Danish, (36 vols.) has now been brought to a completion, by the publication of the above mentioned volume, (pp. 658 in 8vo.) wherein are contained Regesta Geographica to the whole work, which for this large cyclus of Sagas may be considered as tantamount to an old northern geographical gazetteer, in as much as attention has also been paid to other old northern manuscripts of importance in a geographical point of view. Complete, however, it cannot by any means be called, neither as regards Iceland especially and other lands in America, whose copious historical sources have, in the present instance, been but partially made use of, nor also as regards the European countries without the Scandinavian North, for whose remote history and ancient geography the old northern writings contain such important materials, but it is to be hoped that the Society will in due time take an opportunity of extending its labors in that direction also. The present volume does, however, contain a number of names of places situated without the bounds of Scandinavia in countries of which mention is made in the writings published in the work itself. To the name of each place is annexed its Icelandic or old Danish form, and the position of the place is investigated by means of comparison with other historical data and with modern geography. Sir John Franklin who left about two years on a voyage of exploration, in the Arctic regions of America, remains in those inhospitable parts. Much anxiety is felt for him as no tidings have been received from him. It is to be hoped that his voyage will prove successful and that before the close of the present year, he may return. The Hudson's Bay Company has lately fitted out an expedition, for the purpose of surveying the unexplored portion of the coast on the northeast angle of the North American continent. The expedition, which consists of thirteen persons, is under the command of one of the company's officers. It started on the 5th July, in two boats, under favorable circumstances;--the ice having cleared away from the shores of the bay at an earlier period of the year than usual.[18] A memoir on the Indian tribes beyond the Rocky mountains, and particularly those along the shores of the Pacific ocean, from California to Behring's straits, with comparative vocabularies of their languages, is preparing for publication by the Hon. Albert Gallatin, from authentic materials. Mr. Hale, philologist of the United States Exploring Expedition, has made a valuable contribution to the Ethnology of this region, in his volume, entitled "Ethnology and Philology," being the seventh volume of the U.S. Exploring Expedition. Recent Works on the Arctic Regions. Barrow's (Sir J.) Voyages of Discovery and Research within the Arctic Regions, from the year 1818 to the present time, in search of a north-west passage, from the Atlantic to the Pacific; with two attempts to reach the North Pole. Abridged from the official narratives, with remarks by Sir John Barrow. 8vo. London, 1846. Americas Arctiske landes gamle geographie efter de Nordiske Oldskriefter ved C.C. Rafn. 8vo. Copenhagen, 1846. SOUTH AMERICA. The French expedition which has been engaged for the last three years in exploring the interior of South America, has at length reached Lima, from which place Count Castelnau has transmitted a detailed report of his journey, to the French Minister of Public Instruction.[19] This expedition is by far the most important that has yet been sent out for the exploration of South America, and has already traversed a large portion of its central parts, little known to geographers. Their first journey was across the country from Rio Janeiro to Goyaz, on the head waters of the river Araguay (Lat. 16° 11´ S. Long. 50° 29´ W.) which river they descended to its junction with the Tocantiu, and then returned by the last named river and the desert of the Chavantes. They made another journey to the north of Cuyaba, to explore the diamond mines, and examine the sources of the Paraguay and Arenos. In the next journey,[20] the particulars of which have just been communicated from Lima, the expedition descended the rivers Cuyaba and San Lorenzo to Paraguay. During this voyage they entered the country of the Guatos Indians, one of the most interesting tribes of the American aborigines. "The features of these Indians," says the Count, "are extremely interesting;--never in my life having seen finer, or any more widely differing from the ordinary type of the red man. Their large, well opened eyes, with long lashes, nose aquiline and admirably modelled, and a long, black beard, would make them one of the finest races in the world, had not their habit of stooping in the canoe bowed the legs of the greater number. Their arms, consisting of very large bows, with arrows seven feet long, demand great bodily strength--and their address in the use of them passes imagination. These savages are timid, nevertheless, and of extreme mildness. By taking them for our guides, and attaching them by small presents, we were enabled to explore parts wholly unknown, of that vast net-work of rivers which they are constantly traversing." In Paraguay the party met a tribe of the celebrated Guaycurus nation. These people are eminently equestrian--transporting their baggage, women and effects of every kind on horseback, across the most arid deserts. They are mortal foes to the Spaniards, and a terror to the whole frontier. They wear their hair long, and paint themselves, black or red, after a very grotesque and irregular fashion; the two sides of their bodies are generally painted in a different manner. "Their chief arms are the lance, knife, and a club, which they throw with great precision at a full gallop. Their hats are made of hides. Each warrior has his mark, which he burns with a red hot iron on all that belongs to him--his horses, dogs and even wives. One of the most atrocious traits in the manners of this people, is that of putting to death all children born of mothers under thirty years of age." After traversing the country between Paraguay and Brazil, the expedition proceeded north by the river Paraguay, and passed the mouths of the San Lorenzo, where it entered the great lake Gaiva, and from thence the greater lake Uberava, the limits of which could not be traced, being lost in the horizon. An Indian told the Count that he had travelled for three whole days in his canoe, without finding its extremity, which supposes a length of twenty-five or thirty leagues. This great inland sea is unknown to geographers. At Villa Maria a caravan of mules awaited the travellers, when they entered the desert or Gran Chaco, as it is called, and proceeded to the town of Matto-Grosso, which is considered the most pestiferous place in the world. Out of a population of 1200 souls, there were found but four whites, of whom three were officers of the government; all the rest was composed of blacks and Indians of every variety and color, who alone are able to support this terrible climate. From this place the expedition proceeded to Santa Cruz of the Sierra, where they found bread, of which they had been deprived for two years; after a month's repose, a journey of eight days brought the party to Chuquisaca, in Bolivia, and from thence by Potosi to Lima. The results of this expedition are already of great interest. It will make known people, the names of which were unknown to geographers. Rivers which appear on our maps are found not to exist, while hitherto unknown rivers and large bodies of water have been discovered. Many geographical positions have been determined, and the particulars of the trade which is extensively carried on in the centre of this vast continent by means of caravans of mules, are made known. M. de Castelnau has paid particular attention to the productions of the country, with a view of introducing such as are valuable into the French colony of Algeria. Large collections in Natural History have already been received at the museum in Paris; observations on terrestrial magnetism and meteorology have been made, in fact, no department of science seems to have been neglected by the expedition, which will reflect great credit on its distinguished head, Count Castelnau, as well as on the French government, by whose liberality and zeal for the promotion of science it has been supported. From Lima, Count Castelnau intended to prosecute further researches in the country of the Incas, after which he would proceed to the Amazon river. PERU. Some interesting remains of the ancient Peruvians, have lately been brought to light in the Province of Chachapoyas, about five hundred and fifty miles north of Lima and two hundred and fifty miles from the coast. The particulars of these ruins were communicated by Señor Nieto to the prefect of the Department.[21] "The principal edifice is an immense wall of hewn stone, three thousand six hundred feet in length, five hundred and sixty feet in width and one hundred feet high.[22] It is solid in the interior and level on the top, upon which is another wall six hundred feet in length, of the same breadth and height as the former, and like it solid to its summit. In this elevation, and also in that of the lower wall, are a great many rooms eighteen feet long and fifteen wide, in which are found neatly constructed niches, containing bones of the ancient dead, some naked and some in shrouds or blankets," placed in a sitting posture. From the base of this structure commences an inclined plane gradually ascending to its summit, on which is a small watch tower. From this point, the whole of the plain below, with a considerable part of the province, including the capital, eleven leagues distant, may be seen. In the second wall or elevation are also openings resembling ovens, six feet high, and from 20 to 30 feet in circumference. In these, skeletons were found. The cavities in the adjoining mountain were found to contain heaps of human remains perfectly preserved in their shrouds, which were made of cotton of various colors. Still farther up this mountain was "a wall of square stones, with small apertures like windows, but which could not be reached without a ladder," owing to a perpendicular rock which intervened. The Indians have a superstitious horror of the place, in consequence of the mummies it contains, and refused to assist the exploring party, believing that fatal diseases would be produced by touching these ghastly remains of their ancestors. They were therefore compelled to abandon their researches, though surrounded by objects of antiquity of great interest. Mr. Chas. Frederick Neumann, a distinguished oriental scholar of Munich, has lately published a work "On the Condition of Mexico in the Fifth Century of our Era, according to Chinese writers." It purports to be an account of that country, called Fu-Sang, in the Chinese annals. De Guignes, in his celebrated work on China, supposes that America was the country referred to, while Klaproth, on the contrary, believes it to be Japan. It is stated in the English papers[23] that an expedition, which promises the most important results, both to science and commerce, is at this moment fitting out for the purpose of navigating some of the great unexplored rivers of South America. It is to be under the command of Lord Ranelagh; and several noblemen and gentlemen have already volunteered to accompany his lordship. The enterprising and scientific band will sail as soon as the necessary arrangements are completed. He proposes to penetrate, by some of the great tributaries of the Amazon, into the interior of Bolivar--for which purpose a steamer will be taken out in pieces. Returning to the Amazon, he will ascend this great river to its highest sources. The distance and means of communication between the Pacific and the basin of the Amazon will be minutely examined. Another scientific expedition has been sent out by the French Government to its West India colonies and the northerly parts of South America, under M. Charles Deville, a report from whom was read at a meeting of the Paris Academy of Sciences in June last. Its publication was recommended. The French Government gave notice to the same Academy, at its meeting on the 31st August last, of an intended expedition by Lieut. Tardy Montravel, to the Amazon river and its branches, with the steamer Alecton and the Astrolabe corvette; and invited the Academy to prepare a programme with a view to facilitate the researches which M. de Montravel is charged to make. NOTE.--The following is a list of the books relating to South America which have recently been published. Historia fisica y politica de Chile segun documentos adquiredos en esta Republica durante doze anos de residencia en ella, y publicada bajo los auspicios del supremo gobierno. 7 livr. 8vo. with an Atlas of 27 plates. Paris. 1844. Memoria geografico economico-politica del departmento de Venezuela, publicada en 1824 por el intendente de ejercito D. Jose M. Aurrecoechea, quien la reimprime con varias notas aclaratorias y un apendice. Quarto. Madrid. 1846. Twenty-four years in the Argentine Republic, embracing the author's personal adventures, with the history of the country, &c. &c., with the circumstances which led to the interposition of England and France. By Col. J.A. King. 1 vol. 12mo. New York. 1846. Travels in the interior of Brazil, principally through the northern provinces, and the gold and diamond districts, in 1836-1841. By George Canning. 8vo. London. 1846. Travels in Peru, during the years 1838-1842, on the coast, and in the Sierra, across the Cordilleras and the Andes, into the primeval forests. By Dr. J.J. Tschudi. 2 vols. 12mo. New York. 1847. Mr. Thomas Ewbank is preparing for the press a work on Brazil, being observations made during a twelve months' residence in that country. From a personal acquaintance with this gentleman, his reputation as a man of observation, and his well known capacity as a writer, we think a valuable book may be expected. AFRICA. The zeal which was manifested a few years since for the discovery and exploration of the interior of Africa, and which seemed to have terminated with the Landers, and the unsuccessful voyage of the steamers up the Niger, has again shown itself, and we now find as much curiosity awakened, and as much zeal manifested for geographical discovery in this vast continent, and the solution of questions for ages in doubt, as has been exhibited at any former period. The Travels of M. d'Abaddie, Dr. Beke, Isenberg, and others make known to us the immense extent and windings of the Bahr-el-Abiad and the Bahr-el-Azrek, or the white and blue Nile, but they have not yet been traced to their rise, and the solution of the question of the true source of the Nile, remains still unsettled. We have received from Mr. Jomard, member of the French Institute, a work entitled "Observations sur le voyage au Darfour" from an account given by the Sheikh Mohammed-el-Tounsy, accompanied by a vocabulary of the language of the people, and remarks on the white Nile by Mr. Jomard. This is a valuable contribution to our knowledge of a portion of the interior of Africa, only known to us by the visit of Mr. Browne in 1794, and forms a link in the chain between Lake Tchad and a region of country quite unexplored, and of which we have no knowledge whatever. We have some information of interest, relating to Senegal, communicated to the Royal Geographical Society of London,[24] being a narrative of Mr. Thomson, linguist to the Church Missionary Society at Sierra Leone, from that place to Timbo, the capital of Futah Jallo. His place is about four hundred miles northeast of Sierra Leone. "The principal object of the mission, was to open a road for a regular line of traffic through that country, between the colony and the negro states on the Joliba or Niger." Mr. Thomson's narrative is full of interest and shows the great hardships to be encountered in effecting a communication with the interior. No man could be better prepared for such an enterprize, both by knowledge of the languages of the country, and the manners of the people; zeal, perseverance, and courage, also were prominent traits in his character; yet his enterprize failed and death cut him off, when on the point of starting for the eastward. An expedition more successful in its results, has been undertaken in Dahomey on the Guinea coast, the particulars of which are given in the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London, (vol. 16.) This journey was performed by Mr. John Duncan, from Cape Coast to Whyddah, and from the latter about five hundred miles due north, through the Dahomey country to Adofoodiah. Although the king of Ashantee had refused permission for Mr. Duncan to pass through his territory, and had endeavored to prejudice the king of Dahomey against him, he was received with great kindness by the latter, and every facility given him to travel in his dominions. A guard of one hundred men was furnished to accompany him--a path was cleared for upwards of one hundred miles, and arrangements made so that at every village through which he passed, provisions were always waiting, ready cooked for them. Among the strange things seen by this traveller was a review of six thousand Female troops, well armed and accoutred. Their appearance, for an uncivilized nation, was surprising, and their performance still more so. The slave trade is carried on extensively in Dahomey. In the market of Adofoodiah, articles from the Mediterranean, and from Bornou in the interior were exposed for sale, showing the immense extent of the trade of the country. He met people from Timbuctoo and gathered some particulars of that remarkable city, as well as some information respecting Mungo Park's death. This enterprising traveller has lately been provided with the means to enable him to set out on a new journey with a determination to penetrate the country to Timbuctoo, from whence he will endeavour to follow the Niger to its mouth. The American Missionaries at the Gaboon, (Western Africa), with a view of establishing a mission in the Pong-wee country have been preparing a grammar of the Pong-wee language, the peculiarities of which are such as to deserve notice. The Missionaries call it "one of the most perfect languages of which they have any knowledge. It is not so remarkable for copiousness of words as for its great and almost unlimited flexibility. Its expansions, contractions, and inflections though exceedingly numerous, and having, apparently, special reference to euphony, are all governed by grammatical rules, which seem to be well established in the minds of the people, and which enable them to express their ideas with the utmost precision. How a language so soft, so plaintive, so pleasant to the ear, and at the same time so copious and methodical in its inflections, should have originated, or how the people are enabled to retain its multifarious principles so distinctly in their minds as to express themselves with almost unvarying precision and, uniformity, are points which we do not pretend to settle. It is spoken coastwise nearly two hundred miles, and perhaps with some dialectic differences, it reaches the Congo river. How far it extends into the interior is not satisfactorily known."[25] An attempt to penetrate this continent from the north has been made by Mr. James Richardson, by advices from whom it appears that on the 23d November, 1845, he had reached Ghadames, in the Great Desert, where he had been residing for three months, and whence he was to start on the following day, with a negro and a Moor, for Soudan. If successful in reaching that country, he intended to proceed to Timbuctoo and other parts of the interior. Mr. Richardson was well received by the people and Sultan of Ghadames; but his journey to Sackatoo the capital of Soudan, which would take three months to accomplish, through some of the wildest tribes and without any guarantee from the English or Ottoman government, was considered foolhardy and desperate.[26] Later accounts state that Mr. Richardson had returned after a successful exploration in the very centre of the Great Zahara, and that he has collected important information relating to the slave trade, one of the objects of his undertaking. We shall look forward with interest to the publication of his travels.[27] The details of the expedition under M. Raffenel of the French navy and other scientific gentlemen, up the Senegal, have just been published.[28] The party ascended the Senegal to the river Falémé, and from the mouth of the Falémé they penetrated the country to Sansanzig. They then visited the gold mines of Kenieba, on the Bambouk, the country of Galam, Bondou and Woolli, and returned by the river Gambia. Seven months were spent on this expedition. They found the country beautiful, but its cultivation neglected, and of course little was produced. They visited the place where the French were formerly established, with the view of making treaties with the natives for its occupation anew. Few traces of the colony were to be found. They were kindly received by the various tribes of aborigines, wherever they went; though when at the extreme point of their journey, owing to the wars among the natives, they did not think it safe to proceed farther. The results of the expedition are interesting to science, as well as to the friends of humanity, who wish to improve the condition of this people. For the more complete exploration of this portion of the African continent, it has been proposed to send another expedition under M. Raffenel for the purpose. This gentleman has submitted a memoir to the Minister of Marine, by whom it was presented to the Geographical Society of Paris. The result was favorable, and Mr. Raffenel has been provided with instructions for his guidance in his proposed journey. A journey of exploration and civilization in Soudan, is about to be undertaken by four Jesuits from Rome--Bishop Casolani, and Fathers Ryllo, Knoblica, and Vinco. Casolani and Ryllo will start from Cairo in January, 1847--having previously obtained a Firman from Constantinople; and, proceeding through Upper Egypt, Nubia, and thence by Kordofau and Darfour, they hope to reach Bornou,--and meet there their brethren, who travel by the way of Tripoli and Mouryok. Should they be fortunate enough to meet, it will then be determined which route shall afterwards be followed. They have determined to accomplish what they have undertaken, or perish in the attempt. From the high character of all the parties, great hopes are entertained of the result of this journey. They are all men of extensive learning, and familiar with the languages, manners and customs of the East.[29] A project is on foot in London and a prospectus has been issued for a new Expedition of Discovery to penetrate the interior of Africa from the eastern side. Many advantages are presented by beginning the work of exploration here; among them, the populousness and civilization of Eastern Africa, which is in general superior to that of the western coast. The languages of the former bear a close affinity to each other, and extend over a very large space, which is not the case with the latter. "The absence of foreign influence, (particularly of the Portuguese, by whom the slave trade is carried on), and the readiness of the Sultan of Muscat to listen to British counsels," are strong inducements to carry out the scheme proposed.[30] Lieutenant Ruxton of the Royal Navy, who has lately made an interesting journey into Africa from the southwestern coast, near the island of Ichaboe, is about to undertake a second journey with the intention of crossing the continent from this point to the eastern coast, under the sanction of the British Government. Some valuable contributions have been made to our knowledge of the geography of Southern Africa by Mr. Cooley[31] and Mr. McQueen,[32] which tend to elucidate portions of this continent hitherto enveloped in much obscurity. Mr. Cooley's investigations relate to the country extending from Loango and Congo, the Portuguese settlements in Western Africa, to the eastern coast between Zanzibar and Sofala, in lat. 20° South. He commences by examining the statements of the Portuguese geographers of the 16th century, Lopez, Joao Dos Santos, Do Couto, and Pigafetta. "The information collected by Lopez, was elaborated by Pigafetta into a system harmonizing with the prevalent opinions of the age, and in this form was published in 1591. Yet in the midst of this editor's theories, we can at times detect the simple truth." Much confusion seems to have arisen by misapplying the names of lakes, rivers and people, as this information was in a great degree derived from natives, and not properly understood by the persons who received it from them. Mr. Cooley, by a rigid examination of these various statements, together with the accounts derived from later writers and from native traders, has been enabled to rectify the errors which had crept in, and clear up much that had been considered fabulous. The great lake called N'Yassi, and the natives occupying the country around it, are among the most interesting subjects of our author's enquiries. This lake, or sea, as it is called by the natives, is some five or six hundred miles from the eastern coast. Its breadth in some places is about fifteen miles, while in others, the opposite shores cannot be seen. Its length is unknown, neither extremity having been traced. It probably exceeds five hundred miles, according to the best authority. Numerous islands filled with a large population, are scattered among its waters. It is navigated by bark canoes, twenty feet long, capable of holding twenty persons. Its waters are fresh, and it abounds in fish. The people seem more advanced in civilization than any African nations south of the Equator, of which we have knowledge. Pereira, who spent six months at Cazembe, in 1796, describes the people as similar, in point of civilization, to the Mexicans and Peruvians, at the time of the conquest. The nation called the Monomoesi, or Mucaranga, north of the lake, as well as the Movisa, on its opposite shores, are a tall and handsome race, with a brown complexion. "They are distinguished for their industry, and retain the commercial habits for which they were noted two centuries and a half ago, when their existence was first known through the Portuguese. They descend annually to Zanzibar in large numbers. The journey to the coast and back again, takes nine or ten months, including the delay of awaiting the proper season for returning. They are clothed in cotton of their own manufacture; but the most obvious mark of their superiority above other nations of Eastern Africa is, that they employ beasts of burden, for their merchandize is conveyed to the coast laden on asses of a fine breed." Mr. Cooley believes that "the physical advantages and superior civilization of these tribes, who are not negroes," explain the early reports which led the Portuguese to believe that the empire of Prestor John was not far off. Mr. M'Queen's memoirs consist of the details of a journey made by Lief Ben Saeid, a native of Zanzibar, to the great lake N'Yassi, or Maravi, alluded to in Mr. Cooley's memoir. This visit was made in the year 1831. The facts collected corroborate what has been stated by Mr. Cooley. He found the country level, filled with an active population, civil to strangers, and honest in their dealings. A very extensive trade was carried on in ivory, and a peculiar oil, of a reddish color. The Manumuse (Mono-moezi) are pagans, and both sexes go nearly naked. Near the lake there are no horses or camels, but plenty of asses, and a few elephants. The houses on the road and at the lake, are made of wood and thatched with grass. Dogs are numerous, and very troublesome. Some are of a very large kind.[33] The region which forms the subject of the memoirs just alluded to, is doubtless one of the most interesting fields for exploration of any on the African continent. The languages spoken by the several nations between the two oceans, which are here separated by a space of sixteen or seventeen hundred miles, in a direct line, are believed to belong to one great family, or at least to present such traces of affinity, that an expedition, if sufficiently strong, aided by interpreters from the Zanzibar coast or the Monomoezi tribes, might traverse the continent without difficulty. Obstacles might be thrown in the way by the Portuguese traders, who would naturally feel jealous at any encroachments by rival nations; but by a proper understanding, these might be overcome, and this interesting and hitherto unknown portion of Central Africa be laid open to commerce and civilization. The latest attempt to explore this region was that of M. Maizan, a young officer in the French navy, who towards the close of the year 1844, set out for the purpose. In April, 1845, he left Zanzibar, furnished with a firman from Sultan Said to the principal chiefs of the tribes of the interior, though in reality they enjoyed the most complete independence. Having been warned that a chief, named Pazzy, manifested hostile intentions towards him, he stopped some time on his way, and after having acquired information relating to the country he wished to survey, he made a grand _détour_ round the territory over which this savage chief exercised his authority. After a march of twenty days, he reached the village of Daguélamohor, which is but three days' journey from the coast in a direct line, where he awaited the arrival of his baggage, which he had entrusted to an Arab servant. This man, it appears, had communication with Pazzy, and had informed him of the route his master had taken. Pazzy, with some men of his tribe, overtook M. Maizan towards the end of July, at Daguelamohor, and surrounded the house in which he lived. After tying him with cords to a palisade, the savage ordered his men to cut the throat of their unfortunate victim.[34] Mr. M'Queen gives some particulars obtained from a native African relating to the country between Lake Tchad, or Tshadda and Calabar. This portion of the African continent has never been visited by Europeans, and although little can be gained of its geography from the statements of this man, there is much in them that is interesting on the productions of the country, the natives, their manners, customs, &c. ALGIERS. The publication by the French government of the results of the great scientific expedition to Algeria has thrown much light on the districts embraced in Algiers and the regency of Tunis, as well as on the countries far in the interior. Among the subjects which have received the particular attention of the commission, are, 1. An examination of the routes followed by the Arabs in the south of Algiers and Tunis; 2. Researches into the geography and commerce of Southern Algiers, by Capt. Carette; 3. A critical analysis of the routes of the caravans between Barbary and Timbuctoo, with remarks on the nature of the western Sahara, and on the tribes which occupy it, by M. Renou; 4. A series of interesting memoirs on the successive periods of the political and geographical history of Algiers from the earliest period to the present time, by M. Pelissier; 5. The History of Africa, translated from the Arabic of Mohammed-ben-Abi-el-Raini-el-Kairouani, by M. Remusat, giving a particular account of the earliest Musselman period. Gen. Marey in an account of his expedition to Laghouat in Algeria, published in Algiers in 1845, has contributed important information on this country, which deserves a rank with the great work of the scientific expedition.[35] In this work the author has corrected the erroneous opinion which has long been held, of the barrenness of the Sahara. Among the Arabs this word _Sahara_ does not convey the idea which the world has generally given it, of a desert or uninhabitable place, but the contrary. Like every country, it presents some excellent and luxuriant spots, others of a medium quality as to soil, and others entirely barren, not susceptible of cultivation. By _Sahara_, the Arabs mean a country of pastures, inhabited by a pastoral people; while, to the provinces between the Atlas mountains and the sea, they apply the name of _Tell_, meaning a country of cereals, and of an agricultural people. M. Carette, in his exploration of this region, has also discovered the false notion long imbibed in relation to it. "The Sahara," says he, "was for a long time deformed by the exaggerations of geographers, and by the reveries of poets. Called by some the Great Desert, from its sterility and desolation, by others the country of dates, the Sahara had become a fanciful region, of which our ignorance increased its proportions and fashioned its aspect. From the mountains which border the horizon of Tell, to the borders of the country of the blacks, it was believed that nature had departed from her ordinary laws, renouncing the variety which forms the essential character of her works, and had here spread an immense and uniform covering, composed of burning plains, over which troops of savage hordes carried their devastating sway. Such is not the nature, such is not the appearance of the Sahara." This region, occupying so large a portion of the African continent, "is a vast archipelago of oases, of which each presents an animated group of towns and villages. Around each is a large enclosure of fruit trees. The palm is the king of these plantations, not only from the elevation of its trunk, but from the value of its product, yet it does not exclude other species. The fig, the apricot, the peach and the vine mingle their foliage with the palm." The Algerine Sahara has lately been the object of a special work of Col. Daumas who intends completing the researches begun by Gen. Marey and the members of the scientific commission. He has made an excursion to the borders of the desert, and has collected much that is new and interesting in ethnology, particularly relating to the Tuarycks, a great division of the Berber race whose numerous tribes occupy all the western part of the great desert.[36] Among the interesting Ethnological facts which the late expeditions in this region have brought to light, is that of the existence of a white race, inhabiting the Aures mountains, (_mons Aurarius_) in the province of Constantine.[37] Dr. Guyon, of the French army of Africa, took advantage of an expedition sent out by General Bedeau to the Aures, to collect information about this people, to whom other travellers had referred. He describes them as having a white skin, blue eyes and flaxen hair. They are not found by themselves, but predominate more or less among various tribes. They hold a middle rank, and go but rarely with the Kabyles and the Arabs. They are lukewarm in observances of the Koran, on which account the Arabs esteem them less than the Kabyles. They are more numerous in the tribe of the Mouchaïas, who speak a language in which words of Teutonic origin have been recognized. In Constantine where they are numerous, they exercise the trades of butcher and baker. Late writers believe that they are the remains of the Vandals driven from the country by Belisarius. M. Bory de Saint Vincent in making some observations to the Academy of Sciences, on the paper of Dr. Guyon, exhibited portraits of individuals of this white race, which had been engraved for the Scientific Commission, and stated his belief that they were evidently of the northern Gothic and Vandal type.[38] In Northern Africa, an important discovery has lately been made of the ancient Libyan alphabet, by Mr. F. de Saulcy, member of the French Institute. This curious result has been produced, by a study of the bilingual inscription on the monument of Thugga, which is published in the first volume of the Transactions of the Ethnological Society of New York. The reading of the Phoenician part of this bilingual inscription having been established, the value of the Libyan or Numidian letters of the counter part, has been as clearly proved, as the hieroglyphic part of the Rosetta stone has been established, from a comparison with the Greek text of that bilingual inscription. By this discovery, a vast progress has been made in the ethnography and history of ancient Africa. Two facts of the greatest consequence have been established by it:--That the Libyan language was that of Numidia, at the early period of its history, when the Phoenicians were settled there; that the Numidians of that early day, used their own peculiar letters for writing their own language. To these facts, may be added another of no less ethnographic value; that the present Numidian or Berber race of the great Sahara, who are called Tuarycks, make use of these identical letters at this day. For this recent and valuable acquisition to science, we are again indebted to Mr. de Saulcy,[39] who has published a Tuaryck alphabet as communicated to him by Mr. Boisonnet, Captain of Artillery at Algiers. It was furnished to him by an educated native of the Oasis of Touat, in the great Sahara, and is called by him _Kalem-i-Tefinag_.[40] What the _writing of Tefinag_ means, it would be curious to know. This Touatee, Abd-el-Kader, has promised more extended information, in relation to the writing of the Tuarycks, than which, no more valuable contribution to African ethnography can be imagined. He asserts that, the Tuarycks engrave or scratch on the rocks of the Sahara, numerous inscriptions, either historic or erotic. This subject has been alluded to by Mr. Hodgson, in his "_Notes on Africa_" in which he mentions the Tuaryck letters copied by Denham and Clapperton. The impulse first given by our countryman Mr. Wm. B. Hodgson, in his researches into the Berber language, and the ethnographic facts which were the results of his elucidations, has extended to England, France and Germany, and the last two years have been productive of several valuable and important works, including grammars and dictionaries of the Berber language. These have added greatly to our previous knowledge of the ancient and primitive people, who at a remote period, coeval with that of the ancient Egyptians occupied the northern part of Africa. Mr. de Saulcy has already unravelled the intricacy of the demotic writing of Egypt and the popular characters of ancient Libya. He is thus working at both ends of the Libyan chain. He will find the Berber thread at the Oasis of Ammon, and at Meröe. We shall thus probably find, that the Berber language was the original tongue of that part of Ethiopia. Dr. Lepsius found in that region, numerous inscriptions in the Egyptian demotic, and in Greek characters, but written in an unknown language. He strongly suspects, that the old Ethiopian blood will be found in the Berber veins; and that the Nubian language has strong affinities with the Berber. When these inscriptions in an unknown language are decyphered, it will be known how far the interpretation of Egyptian mythology and the local names, heretofore proposed by Mr. Hodgson, is to be received as plausible. He has proposed the Berber etymologies of Aman or Ammon as water; Themis as fire or purity; Thot as an eye; Edfou and Tadis as the sun. Books on Algiers. Algeria and Tunis in 1845. An account of a journey made through the two Regencies, by Viscount Fielding and Capt. Kennedy. 2 vols, post 8vo. London, 1846. Le Maroc et ses Caravanes, ou Relations de la France avec cet Empire, par R. Thomassy. 8vo. Paris 1845. Exploration Scientifique de l'Algeria pendant les années 1840, 1841, 1842. Publié par l'ordre du gouvernment et avec le concours d'une commission Académique. 4 vols, folio. (now in the course of publication.) Recherches sur la constitution de la propriété territoriale dans le pays mussulmans et subsidiairement en Algeria; par M. Worms. 8vo. Paris, 1846. A visit to the French possessions in Algiers in 1845. By Count St. Marie. Post 8vo. London, 1846. AFRIQUE (l') française, l'empire du Maroc et les déserts de Sahara. Histoire nationale des conquêtes, victoires et nouvelles découvertes des Français depuis la prise d'Alger jusqu'à nos jours; par P. Christian. 8vo. Algeria en 1846; par J. Desjobert. 8vo. Paris, 1846. Guide du voyageur en Algeria. Itinéraire du savant, de l'artiste, de l'homme du monde et du colon; par Quetin. 18mo. Paris, 1846. Le Sahara Algerien. Etude geographiques, statistiques et historiques sur la region au sud des établissements Françaises en Algérie; par Col. Daumas 8vo. Paris, 1845. L'Afrique Française l'Empire de Maroc et les deserts de Sahara, conquêtes et découvértes des Français. Royal 8vo. Dictionnaire de Géographie économique, politique et historique de l'Algérie. Avec une carte. 12mo. Paris, 1846. Géographie populaire de l'Algérie, avec cartes. 12mo. 1846. Histoire de nos Colonies Françaises de l'Algérie et du Maroc; par M. Christian. 2 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1846. The following list embraces the latest publications on Africa generally. Voyage dans l'Afrique Occidentale, comprenant l'exploration du Senegal depuis St. Louis jusqu'à la Félemé jusqu'à Sansandig; des mines d'or de Keniéba, dans le Bambouk; des pays de Galam, Boudou et Wooli; et de la Gambia; par A. Raffenel. 8vo. and folio atlas. Paris, 1846. Viaggi nell' Africa Occidentale, di _Toto Omboni_, gia medico di consiglié nel regno d'Angola e sue dispendenze, 8vo. Milan, 1845. A visit to the Portuguese possessions in South Western Africa. By Dr. Tams. 2 vols. 8vo. Life in the Wilderness; or, Wanderings in South Africa. By Henry W. Methuen. Post 8vo. London, 1846. Voyage au Darfour par le Cheykh Mohammed Ebn-Omar El-Tounsy; traduit de l'Arabe par Dr. Perron; publié par les soins de M. Jomard. Royal 8vo. Maps. Paris, 1845. Observations sur le Voyage au Darfour suivies d'un Vocabulaire de la langue des habitans et de remarques sur le Nil Blanc Supérieur; par M. Jomard. 1846. Essai historique sur les races anciennes et modernes de l'Afrique Septentrionale, leurs origines, leurs mouvements et leurs transformations depuis l'antiquité jusqu'à nos jours; par Pascal Duprat. 8vo. Paris, 1845. MADAGASCAR.--The island of Madagascar has recently attracted and continues to occupy attention in France. In 1842 M. Guillian, in command of a French corvette, was sent by the governor of the isle of Bourbon to this island, to select a harbor safe and convenient of access, and to obtain information relative to the country and its inhabitants. After visiting various parts of the island on its western side, in which fourteen months were spent, M. Guillian returned to Bourbon, and in 1845 the results of his visit were published in Paris. The first part of this work gives a history of the Sakalave people, who occupy the western parts of the island. The second details the particulars of the voyage made in 1842 and 1843, embracing the geography, commerce and present condition of the country, an abstract of which is given in the Bulletin of the Geographical Society of Paris, Feb. 1846. So important were the results of the visit of M. Guillian that a new expedition has been sent to Madagascar under his direction, with instructions for a more extended examination, particularly in relation to its animal and vegetable productions. A more extensive work by M. de Froberville, is preparing for publication in Paris, in which more attention will be given to the ethnography of this important island. Documents sur l'histoire, la géographie et le commerce de la partie occidentale de l'île de Madagascar; recueillis et redigés par M. Guillian, 8vo. Paris, 1845. Histoire d'établissement Français de Madagascar, pendant la restauration, précédée d'une description de cette île, et suivie de quelques considérations politiques et commerciales sur l'expédition et la colonisation de Madagascar. Par M. Carayon, 8vo. Paris, 1845. Histoire et Géographie de Madagascar, depuis la découverte de l'île en 1506, jusqu'au récit des derniers événements de Tamative; par M. Descartes. 8vo. Paris, 1846. Madagascar expedition de 1829. Par M. le Capitaine de frégate Jourdain. _Revue de l'Orient_, tom. ix. April, 1846. A short memoir on Madagascar is contained in the "Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, July, 1845," by M. Bona Christave. Etchings of a Whaling Voyage, with notes of a sojourn in the Island of Zanzibar, and a history of the whale fishery, by J.R. Browne. 8vo. New York, 1846. EGYPT. I have hesitated, in the superficial view I propose to take in noticing the ethnological and archæological researches of the day, as to whether I ought to speak of the land of the Pharaohs. The explorations have been on so grand a scale, and the results so astounding, that one is lost in amazement in attempting to keep pace with them. In England, France, Germany and Italy, Egyptian archæology is the most fruitful topic among the learned. In Paris, it forms the theme of lectures by the most distinguished archæologists, and the subject absorbs so much interest in Germany, that the King of Prussia has established a professorship at the Royal University for Egyptian antiquities and history, which he has assigned to Professor Lepsius, the most accomplished scholar in Egyptian learning, and who was at the head of the scientific commission sent by his majesty to explore the valley of the Nile. It will be remembered that in addition to the immense and costly work published by Napoleon, there have since been published the great national works of Champollion, by the French government, and of Rossellini by the Tuscan government. These are to be immediately followed by the great work of Lepsius, who has just returned from Egypt, laden with innumerable treasures, the results of three years of most laborious and successful explorations. This undertaking is at the expense of the King of Prussia, one of the most enlightened monarchs of Europe, and who, at the present moment, is doing more in various parts of the world for the advancement of science than any now living. But the French government, which has always been foremost in promoting such explorations, is determined not to be superseded by the learned Prussian's researches in Egyptian lore. An expedition has been organized under M. Prisse, for a new survey and exploration of Egypt. Mr. Prisse is an accomplished scholar, versed in hieroglyphical learning, and author of a work on Egyptian Ethnology. He will be accompanied by competent artists, will go over the same ground as Lepsius, and make additional explorations. As regards the eminent men who have won brilliant distinction in the career of Egyptian studies, it is out of the question here to analyze their books: it must suffice to state, that all have marched boldly along the road opened by _Champollion_, and that the science which owed its first illustration to Young, to the Champollions, to the Humboldts, to Salvolini, to Rosellini, to Nestor L'Hote, and to whose soundness the great De Sacy has furnished his testimony, counts at this day as adepts and ardent cultivators, such scholars as Letronne, Biot, Prisse, Bunsen, Lepsius, Burnouf, Pauthiér, Lanci, Birch, Wilkinson, Sharpe, Bonomi, and many more.[41] A few important results of the late explorations in Egypt, and researches into her hieroglyphics and history, it may be well to mention. Prof. Schwartze, of Berlin, is publishing a work on Egyptian philology, entitled _Das Alte Ægypten_. Some idea may be formed of the erudition of German philologists, and the extent to which their investigations are carried, when we state that this savant has completed the first part of the first volume of this work, which embraces 2200 quarto pages! and this is but a beginning. De Saulcy has made great advances in decyphering the Demotic writing of Egypt, in which, from Champollion's death to 1843, little had been done. He has now translated the whole of the Demotic text on the Rosetta stone, so that we may consider this portion of Egyptian literature as placed on a firm basis. Farther elucidations of the Coptic language have been made. This, it will be remembered, is the language into which the ancient Egyptian merged, and is the main instrument by which a knowledge of the latter must be obtained. Recently a discovery has been made by Arthur de Rivière, at Cairo, in an ancient Coptic MS. containing part of the Old Testament. The manuscript was very large and thick, and on separating the leaves was found to contain a pagan manuscript in the same language, the only one yet discovered.[42] On a farther examination of this manuscript, it proved to be a work on the religion of the ancient Egyptians. The translation of this curious document is looked for with much interest. M. Prisse is publishing at the expense of the French Government, the continuation of Champollion's great work on Egypt and Nubia--50 plates are in press. Mr. Birch, of London, has nearly ready for the press a work on the titles of the officers of the Pharaonic court. He has discovered in hieroglyphical writing those of the _chief butler_, _chief baker_, and others, coeval with the pyramids and anterior to Joseph. He has also discovered upon a tablet at the Louvre (age of Thotmes III. B.C. 1600) his conquest of Nineveh, Shinar, and Babylon, and with the _tribute_ exacted from those conquered nations. The intense interest which Egyptian archæology is exciting in Europe will be seen from the list of new books on the subject. The most remarkable discoveries, and in which the greatest advances has been made, are in monumental chronology. Through the indefatigable labors of the Prussian savant, Lepsius, primeval history has far transcended the bounds to which Champollion and Rosellini had carried it. They fixed the era of Menes, the first Pharaoh of Egypt, at about 2750, B.C. Böckh, of Berlin, from astronomical calculations, places it at 5702 B.C. Henry of Paris, in his "_L'Égypte Pharaonique_," from historical deductions, places the era at 5303 B.C. Barucchi, of Turin, from critical investigations, at 4890 B.C., and Bunsen, in his late work entitled "Egypt's Place in the World's History," from the most laborious hierological and critical deductions, places the era of Menes at 3643 B.C. I should do wrong to speak of the labors of foreign savans, without alluding to what has been done in this country. Dr. Morton, it is known, has published a work on Egyptian Ethnography, from crania in his possession furnished by Mr. Gliddon, which reflects great credit on his scholarship, and has been highly commended in Europe. The late Mr. Pickering, of Boston, was one of the few who cultivated hieroglyphical literature in America. But perhaps the American people, as a mass, owe a deeper debt of gratitude to Mr. Geo. R. Gliddon, for his interesting lectures on Egypt and her literature, and to his work entitled Chapters on Egyptian Antiquities and Hieroglyphics, than to any other man. Mr. Gliddon, by a long residence in Egypt, and by a close study subsequently of her monuments, has been enabled to popularize the subject, and by the aid of a truly magnificent and costly series of illustrations of the monuments, the sculptures, the paintings and hieroglyphics of Egypt, to make this most interesting and absorbing subject, comprehensive to all. The results of these Egyptian investigations will doubtless be startling to many; for if the facts announced are true, and we see no reason to believe otherwise, it places the creation of man far, very far, beyond the period usually assigned to him in the chronology of the Hebrew Bible. But again, it must be observed that the common chronology gives the shortest period for that event. If other scriptural chronologies are adopted, we gain two or three thousand years for the creation of man, which gives us quite time enough to account for the high state of civilization and the arts in Egypt, four thousand years B.C. But we do not fear these investigations--truth will prevail, and its attainment can never be detrimental to the highest interests of man. I must also acknowledge the obligation I am under for the use of many splendid and valuable books relating to Egypt, from Mr. Richard K. Haight. This gentleman, with an ample fortune at his command, and with a taste for archæological studies, acquired by a personal tour among the monuments of Egypt, has collected a large and valuable library of books on Egypt, including all the great works published by the European governments on that country. This costly and unique collection, which few but princes or governments possess, he liberally places at the command of scholars, who, for purposes of study, may require them. Mr. Haight's interest in archæological researches has been noticed in Paris, in an article by De Saulcy, member of the Institute of France, in a memoir entitled, "L'Etude des Hieroglyphics." Speaking of Mr. Gliddon's success in the United States in popularizing hieroglyphical discoveries, De Saulcy justly remarks--"Il a été puissamment secondé, dans cette louable entreprise, par une de ces nobles intelligences dont un pays s'honore; M. Haight, l'ami, le soutien, dévoué de tous les hommes de science, n'a pas peu contribué, par sa généreuse assistance, a répandre aux Etats-Unis les belles découvertes qui concernent les temps pharaoniques." _Revue des Deux Mondes._ Paris, June 15, 1846. The following list embraces the late works relating to Egypt: The Oriental Album; or Historical, Pictorial, and Ethnographical Sketches, illustrating the human families in the Valley of the Nile: by E. Prisse. folio. London, 1846. The History of Egypt, from the earliest times till the conquest by the Arabs, A.D. 640. By Samuel Sharpe. 8vo. London, 1846. A Pilgrimage to the Temples and Tombs of Egypt, Nubia, and Palestine, in 1845-'46, by Mrs. Romer. 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1846. L'Égypte au XIX siècle, histoire militaire et politique, anecdotique et pittoresque de Mehemet Ali, etc.; par E. Gouin. Illustrée de gravures. Panorama d'Égypte et de Nubie avec un texte orné, de vignettes; par Hector Horeau. folio. Recherches sur les arts et métiers de la vie civile et domestique des anciens peuples de l'Égypte, de la Nubie et de l'Éthiopie, suivi de détails sur les moeurs et coûtumes des peuples modernes des mêmes contrées; par M. Frederic Cailliand. folio. Paris, 1831-'47. 100 plates. Das Tödtenbuch der Ægypten nach dem Hieroglyphischen Papyrus in Turin, von Dr. R. Leipsius. Leipsig. Schwartze. Das alte Ægypten, oder Sprache, Geschichte, Religion und Verfassung d. alt. Ægypt. 2 vols. 4to. Leipsig. Ægyptens Stelle in der Weltgeschichte: Von Carl J. Bunsen. 3 vols. 8vo. Manetho und die Hundssternperiode, ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Pharaonen: Von August Böckh. 8vo. Berlin, 1845. Macrizi's Geschichte der Copten. Aus den Handschriften zu Gotha und Wién, mit Übersetzungen and Anmerkungen. Von Wüstenfeld. 4to. Göttingen, 1845. Monuments de l'Égypte et de la Nubie. Notices descriptives conformes aux manuscrits autographes rédigés sur les lieux par Champollion le jeune. folio. Paris, 1845-'46. L'Égypte Pharaonique, ou Histoire des institutions qui régirent les Égyptiens sous leur Rois nationaux. par D.M.J. Henri. 2 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1846. Discorso Critici sopra la Cronologia Egizia; del Prof. Barucchi. 4to. Turin. Voyage en Égypte, en Nubie, dans les déserts de Beyonda, des Bycharís, et sur les côtes de la Mer Rouge: par E. Combes. 2 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1847. THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. BORNEO.--Among the most remarkable and successful attempts to open a communication with the natives of the East India Islands, is that of Mr. James Brooke. This gentleman, prompted solely by a desire to improve the condition of the people of Borneo, and at the same time to explore this hitherto unknown region, has established himself at Sarawak, on the northwestern part of the island, 427 miles from Singapore. Such was the interest manifested by him on his arrival in the country to promote the good of the people, and to suppress the piracies which have been carried on for many years by the Malays, and certain tribes associated with them, that the then reigning Rajah, Muda Hassim, resigned to him his right and title to the government of the district, in which he was afterwards established by the Sultan of Borneo. The success that has attended Mr. Brooke's government, among a barbarous people, whose intercourse with foreigners had been confined to the Malays and Chinese, is most remarkable. Possessed of an independent fortune, of the most enlarged benevolence; familiar with the language, manners, customs and institutions of the people by which he is surrounded, with a mind stored with knowledge acquired from extensive travel and intercourse with various rude nations, he seems to have been prepared by Providence for the task which he has attempted, and which has thus far been crowned with success. Capt. Keppel's Narrative of his expedition to Borneo, and Mr. Brooke's Journal, furnish some interesting ethnological facts. The Dyaks, or aboriginal inhabitants of Borneo, are divided into numerous lesser tribes, varying in a slight degree in their manners and customs. Their language belongs to the Polynesian stock, on which has been ingrafted, particularly along the coast, a large number of Malayan words. It also exhibits evidences of migrations from India at remote periods. In speaking of the Sibnowans, Mr. Brooke observes that "they have no idea of a God, and though they have a name for the Deity, (Battara, evidently of Hindoo origin), with a faint notion of a future state, the belief seems a dead letter among them. They have no priests, say no prayers, make no offerings to propitiate the Deity; and of course have no occasion for human sacrifices, in which respect they differ from all other people in the same state of civilization, who bow to their idols with the same feelings of reverence and devotion, of awe and fear, as civilized beings do to their invisible God."[43] From their comparatively innocent state, Mr. Brooke believes they are capable of being easily raised in the scale of society. "Their simplicity of manners, the purity of their morals and their present ignorance of all forms of worship, and all idea of future responsibility, render them open to conviction of truth and religious impression, when their minds have been raised by education."[44] It is a well known fact, that since the establishment of Europeans in the Eastern Archipelago, the tendency of the Polynesian races has generally been to decay. The case of Mr. Brooke, however, now warrants us in hoping that such a result need not necessarily and inevitably ensue. While success has attended this gentleman at the north, the American missionaries, among the Dutch possessions farther south, have totally failed in their objects. They attribute the unwillingness of the Dyaks to submit to their instruction, to the influence of the Malays, whose interests are necessarily opposed to those of the missionaries, for, it is evident that once under the guidance of the latter, the Dyaks will see their own degraded and oppressed condition, and submit to it no longer. Mr. Youngblood says that "so prejudiced are the Dyaks, that I have been unable to obtain a few boys to instruct, of which I was very desirous."[45] The Dutch have long had trading establishments in Borneo, but they had made no efforts either to suppress the piracies, or improve the moral and social condition of its inhabitants. Its great value has now become so apparent, that unless they keep pace with, and follow the example set by the English, they will be in danger of having it wrested from their hands by the more enlightened policy of the latter. Borneo produces all the valuable articles of commerce common to other islands of the Eastern Archipelago. Its mineral productions are equally rich, and include gold dust, diamonds, pearls, tin, copper, antimony, and coal. The interior is quite unknown. It is three times larger than Great Britain, and is supposed to contain about 3,000,000 of people. I have purposely avoided speaking of the trade and commerce of the islands of the Eastern Archipelago, as they are subjects which do not fall within the sphere of our enquiries, in a review like the present; although the productions, the trade and commerce of nations are properly a branch of ethnological enquiry, in a more enlarged view. An interesting pamphlet, embodying much valuable information on the commerce of the East, has been lately published by our townsman, Mr. Aaron H. Palmer. This gentleman is desirous that the United States government should send a special mission to the East Indies, as well as to other countries of Asia, with a view to extend our commercial relations. The plan is one that deserves the attention of our people and government, and I am happy to state that it has met with favor from many of our merchants engaged in the commerce of the East, as well as from some distinguished functionaries of the government.[46] England, France, Prussia, Denmark, and Holland, have at the present moment, expeditions in various parts of the East Indies and Oceanica, planned for the pursuit of various scientific enquiries and the extension of their commerce. With the exception of Prussia, these nations seem to be desirous to establish colonies; and they have, within a few years, taken up valuable positions for the purpose. Is it not then the duty of our government to be represented in this new and wide field? Our dominions now extend from ocean to ocean, and we talk of the great advantages we shall possess in carrying on an eastern trade; but how greatly would our advantages be increased by having a depot or colony on one of the fertile islands contiguous to China, Java, Borneo, Japan, the Philippines, &c. An extended commerce demands it, and we hope the day is not distant when our government may see its importance. England, France, Spain, Portugal and Holland have possessions in the East. The former, always awake to her commercial interests, now has three prominent stations in the China Sea,--Singapore, Borneo, and Hongkong. But even these important points do not satisfy her, and she looks with a longing eye towards Chusan, a point of great importance, commanding the trade of the northern provinces of China, and contiguous to Corea and Japan. The "Friend of India," a leading paper, "is possessed with a most vehement desire," says the editor of the "China Mail," "that the British, without infringing their 'political morality,' could contrive some means of obtaining the cession of Chusan, which, in their hands, he believes, could be converted into a second Singapore, and become one of the largest mercantile marts of the East."[47] It is evident from what has been stated, and from the opinions expressed in foreign journals, that the attention of the civilized world has been suddenly attracted to the Eastern Archipelago, and it is only surprising, considering the knowledge possessed by the European nations, of the rich productions of these islands, and the miserable state in which a large portion of their inhabitants live, that efforts have not before been made to colonize them, and bring them under European rule. The Spaniards contented themselves with the Philippines, but the Dutch, more enterprising, as well as more ambitious, extended their conquests to Sumatra, Java, the Moluccas, and recently to Bali, Sumbawa, Timor and Celebes. But these are not all, for wherever our ships push their way through these innumerable islands, they find scattered, far and wide, their unobtrusive commercial stations, generally protected by a fort and a cruiser. It is said that the natives feel no attachment for their Dutch rulers, which, as they possess so wide spread a dominion in the Archipelago, is much to be regretted; for this feeling of animosity against them, may effect the relations that may be hereafter formed between the aboriginal races and other Christian people. Attempts will doubtless be made to prejudice the natives against the English, but the popularity of Mr. Brooke at Sarawak, in Borneo, his kindness to the natives, and the destruction of the pirates by the British, will no doubt gain for them throughout the Archipelago, a name and an influence which the jealousies of other nations cannot counteract. The natives of these islands except those of the interior, are strictly a trading and commercial people. Addicted to a seafaring life, and tempted by a love of gain, they traverse these seas in search of the various articles of commerce which are eagerly sought after by traders for the European, India, and Chinese markets. Piracy, which abounds in this region, grows out of this love of trade--this desire for the accumulation of wealth--and we believe that nothing would tend to suppress crime so effectually as the establishment of commercial ports throughout the Archipelago. It is said that the population embraced in the twelve thousand islands of which Polynesia consists, amounts to about forty millions. No part of the world equals it in the great variety and value of its products. There is scarcely an island but is accessible in every direction, abounding in spacious bays and harbors, and the larger ones in navigable rivers. The people are generally intelligent, and susceptible of a higher degree of cultivation than the natives of Africa, or of many parts of the adjacent continent. To obtain a station or an island in this vast Archipelago, we should require neither the outlay of a large sum of money, nor the loss of human life; no governments would be subjected, or kings overthrown. Civilization and its attendant blessings would take the place of barbarism, idolatry would be supplanted by christianity, and the poor natives, now bowed down by cruelty and oppression, would, under the care of an enlightened government, become elevated in the scale of social existence. The cultivation of spices in the Archipelago, and the acts by which the monopoly is secured by the Dutch in the Moluccas, reflect little credit on human nature. "No where in the world have the aboriginal tribes been treated with greater cruelty; and in some cases literal extermination has overtaken them. Their tribe has been extinguished, they have been cut off to a man, and that merely lest, in order to obtain a humble subsistence, they should presume to trade on their own account in those costly spices, the sale of which, without right or reason, Holland has hitherto thought proper to appropriate to herself. No form of servitude, moreover, equals the slavery of those who are engaged in the culture of the nutmeg-tree. They toil without hope. No change ever diversifies their drudgery; no holiday gladdens them; no reward, however trifling, repays extra exertion, or acts as a stimulus for the future. The wretched slave's life is one monotonous round, a mere alternation of toil and sleep, to be terminated only by death."[48] The northern portions of New Guinea, as well as other islands, are in the same latitude as Banda and Amboyna, and produce the nutmeg and other spices. They might be extensively cultivated by the natives, if encouragement was given them; and a sufficient supply obtained for all the markets of Europe and America. THE ISLAND OF BALI, lying east of Java, from which it is separated by a narrow strait, has recently been subjected by the Dutch. Some difficulty growing out of the commerce with the people, is the alleged cause. It is an island of great importance to Holland, and would seriously injure her commerce with Java, should any other European nation take it under its protection, or plant a colony there. A slight pretext therefore sufficed for its annexation. NEW CALEDONIA ISLANDS. Later information has been received from the Catholic Missionaries in New Caledonia; for it seems that even in those distant and barbarous islands both Protestant and Catholic are represented. The Propaganda annals contain some interesting accounts of the natives of these islands, and of other facts of importance in Ethnology. Two Catholic missionaries, the Rev. Mr. Rougeyron and the Rev. Mr. Colin, had been twenty months on these islands, during which time they had accomplished nothing in the way of conversions, and but little towards improving the moral condition of the natives. It was hardly time to expect much, as they had only then begun to speak the language of the country, which they found very difficult to acquire. The natives are a most lazy and wretched people. They cultivate the ground with the aid of a piece of pointed wood, or with their nails, but never in proportion to their wants. For the greater part of the year they are compelled to live upon a few fish, shell-fish, roots and the bark of trees, and at times when pressed by hunger, worms, spiders and lizards are eagerly devoured by them. They are cannibals in every sense of the word, and openly feed on the flesh of their enemies. Yet they possess the cocoa, banana and yam, with a luxuriant soil, from which, with a little labor, an abundance could be raised. Among no savage tribes are the women worse treated than here. They are completely at the mercy of their cruel and tyrannical husbands. Compelled to carry burdens, to collect food, and cultivate the fields, their existence promises them but little enjoyment; and when there is any fruit or article of delicacy procured, it is at once _tabooed_ by the husband, so that she cannot touch it but at the peril of her life. The missionaries had begun to expostulate with the natives on the horrors of eating their prisoners, and other vices to which they were addicted, and observe that "a happy change has already taken place among them; that they were less disposed to robbery, and that their wars are less frequent."[49] They are beginning to understand the motive which brought the missionaries to them, and already show a desire to be instructed. The protestant missions have not accomplished any more than the Catholic's among these savages. The latest accounts state that four of the native teachers who had been converted to Christianity, had been cruelly murdered, and that such was the hostility of the chiefs at the isle of Pines, that the prospects of the missionaries were most discouraging.[50] SOOLOO ISLANDS.--Mr. Itier, attaché to the French mission in China, has recently visited a cluster of islands lying to the northeast of Borneo, between that island and Mindanao.[51] His researches on the natural history and geology of these islands, are of much interest. The soil is exceedingly fertile, and the climate more healthy than is usual in intertropical climates. The sugar cane, cocoa, rice, cotton, the bread fruit, indigo, and spices of all kinds, are among their products. Fruits and vegetables of a great variety, are abundant, and of a superior quality. Nine-tenths of the soil is still covered with the primitive forest, of which teak-wood, so valuable in shipbuilding, forms a part. A considerable commerce with China and Manilla is carried on, and from ten to twelve thousand Chinese annually visit the island of Basilan, the most northerly of the group, to cultivate its soil, and take away its products. The peculiar situation of these islands, and their contiguity to the Philippines, to Celebes, Borneo, Manilla, China, and Singapore, make them well adapted for a European colony. In fact, there do not appear to be any islands of the East Indies of equal importance, and there can be no doubt that with the present desire manifested by European nations for colonizing, this desirable spot will ere long be secured by one of them. The Sooloo group embraces sixty inhabited islands, governed by a Sultan, residing at Soung. One of these would be an advantageous point for an American colony or station. The same gentleman has presented to the Geographical Society of Paris, the journal of a voyage and visit to the Philippine islands, from which it appears that that large and important croup is not inferior in interest to the Sooloo islands. The natural history and geology, the soil and its products, the manners and customs of the people, their commerce and political history, are described in detail.[52] The group embraces about twelve hundred islands, with a population of 4,000,000, of whom about 8,000 are Chinese, 4,000 Spaniards, 120,000 of a mixed race, and the remainder natives. THE NICOBAR ISLANDS, a group nineteen in number, in the Bay of Bengal, have again attracted the attention of the Danish government, by which an expedition has been sent with a view to colonize them anew. The Danes planted a colony there in 1756, but were compelled to abandon it in consequence of the insalubrity of the climate. Subsequently the French made an attempt with no better success. Recent publications on the Eastern Archipelago and Polynesia. Ethnology and Philology. By Horatio Hale, Philologist of the U.S. Exploring Expedition, imp. 4to. Philadelphia, 1846. Reise nach Java, und Ausflüge nach den Inseln Mudura und S. Helena; von Dr. Edward Selberg, 8vo. Oldenburg, 1845. Philippines (les), histoire, géographie, moeurs, agriculture, industrie et commerce des colonies espagnoles dans l'Océanie; par _J. Mallat_, 2 vols. 8vo., avec un atlas in folio. Paris, 1846. The expedition of H.M.S. Dido, for the suppression of piracy; by the Hon. Capt. Keppell, with extracts from the journal of James Brooke, Esq. 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1846. Reprinted in New York. Trade and Travel in the Far East; or recollections of twenty-one years passed in Java, Singapore, Australia and China, by G.F. Davidson, post 8vo. London, 1846. Typee: Narrative of a four months' residence among the natives of the Marquesas islands, by Herman Melville. 12mo. New York, 1846. Besides these, The Missionary Herald, the Baptist Missionary Magazine, The London Evangelical Magazine, the Annals of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, as well as other similar journals, contain many articles of great interest on the various islands of the Eastern Archipelago and the South Sea Islands. AUSTRALIA. This vast island continues to attract the attention of geographers and naturalists. Its interior remains unknown, notwithstanding the various attempts which have been made from various points to penetrate it. The explorations of scientific men during the last four years have been productive of valuable information relating to its geography, ethnography, geology and natural history. Among the most eminent and successful in this field, is the Count de Strzelecki. This gentleman, as early as the year 1840, made an extensive tour into the southwestern part of Australia, in which he discovered an extensive tract called Gipp's Land, containing an extent of five thousand six hundred square miles, a navigable lake and several rivers, and from the richness of the soil, presenting an inviting prospect to settlers. His explorations were continued during the years 1842 '43 and '44, and in the following year the results were given to the public,[53] "comprehending the fruits of five years of continual labor during a tour of seven thousand miles on foot. This work treats, within a moderate compass, of the history and results of the surveys of those countries, of their climate, their geology, botany and zoology, as well as of the physical, moral and social state of the aborigines, and the state of colonial agriculture, the whole illustrated by comparisons with other countries visited by himself in the course of twelve years travel through other parts of the world." For these extensive explorations and discoveries, and for his valuable work in which they are embodied, the Royal Geographical Society of London awarded the "Founders" gold medal to Count Strzelecki.[54] Additional information to our knowledge of Australia is contained in Capt. Stokes's late work detailing the discoveries made by himself and other officers attached to H.M.S. Beagle. These discoveries consist of a minute examination of a large part of the coast of that island, of several rivers on its northern and northwestern sides, and of expeditions into the interior. Natives were seen in small numbers in various parts, all of whom were in the lowest state of barbarism. A remarkable diversity of character was noticed, however, among the natives of different localities, some being most kindly disposed, and approaching the strangers without fear, as though they were old acquaintances, whilst others manifested the greatest hostility and aversion. In the instances referred to, they had never seen white men before. Capt. Stokes says his "whole experience teaches him that these were not accidental differences, but that there is a marked contrast in the disposition of the various tribes, for which he will not attempt to account."[55] The natives at Port Essington, on the north, appear to be in some respects superior to those in other parts of the island. Their implements of war and their canoes show a connexion with the Malays. They also have a musical instrument made of bamboo, the only one yet found among them.[56] The rite of circumcision was practised on the northern coast near the gulf of Carpentaria. On the southern coast, at the head of the Australian bight, it had before been noticed by Mr. Eyre.[57] For the practice of this ancient rite at such remote distances, and confined to within such narrow limits, we can only account, by some early migration or visit of people by whom it was practised. Nothing has yet been done towards a comparison of the languages spoken by the Australian tribes. In the late cruise of Capt. Stokes, natives of the south were taken to the northern parts of the island, but in their intercourse with the people of the latter, they were unable to make themselves understood. It is possible, however, that like the languages of the American Indians, though they may exhibit a wide difference in words for similar objects, the grammatical structure may be the same. This is a more important test in ethnological comparison, and should be applied before any of the aboriginal tribes of Australia are extinct. By far the most important journey yet accomplished for the exploration of Australia, is that of Dr. Leichardt. This gentleman, accompanied by Mr. Gilbert, a naturalist, and six others, started from Moreton Bay, on the southeastern shore of the island, in October, 1844, to penetrate to Port Essington, on its most northerly point; in order, if possible, to open a direct route to Sydney. Several months after the party left, reports were brought to Moreton Bay that they had been cut off by the natives. This was proved to be untrue by an expedition sent out for the purpose, who traced the travellers four hundred miles into the interior. Dr. Leichardt found it impossible to penetrate into the interior in a direct course, on account of high table-land, and the absence of water; and this circumstance compelled him to keep within six or seven degrees of the coast. Their six months' provisions being exhausted, the only resource of the party was the horses and stock bullocks,--and with these the strictest economy was necessary. One was killed as provision for a month--sometimes a horse, at others a bullock. For six months prior to reaching Port Essington, the party were reduced to a quarter of a pound of meat per day--frequently putrescent--unaccompanied with salt, bread, or any kind of vegetable. In the neighborhood of the Gulf of Carpentaria, Mr. Gilbert, the naturalist, was surprised by the natives, and killed. The remainder reached Port Essington on the 2d of December, 1845.[58] The narrative of Dr. Leichardt's expedition has not yet been published in detail. The report[59] which has appeared consists chiefly of notices of the geography of the region traversed, the soil, productions, climate, &c. He encountered natives in many places, sometimes in considerable numbers. By some they were kindly received, by others treated as enemies. Their characteristics are not noticed. The most extraordinary feature in Dr. Leichardt's narrative is the constant succession of water. Although the season was an exceedingly dry one, no rain having fallen for seven months, yet from the commencement to the close of his year and a half's expedition, throughout the whole length and breadth of the vast region he traversed, he was continually meeting with fresh water, in the forms of "pools, lagoons, brooks, wells, water-holes, rocky basins, living springs, swamps, streams, creeks or rivers." The soil in many places was of the best kind, covered with luxuriant grass and herbs. Of the former, some twenty kinds were seen. In lat. 18° 48´ he found a level country, openly timbered, with fine plains, extending many miles in length and breadth. The flats bordering the creeks and rivers were covered with tall grass, and the table-lands presented equally attractive features. "The whole country along the east coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria is highly adapted for pastoral pursuits. Cattle and horses would thrive exceedingly well, but the climate and soil are not adapted to sheep. Large plains, limited by narrow belts of open forest land; fine grassy meadows along frequent chains of lagoons, and shady forest land along the rivers, render this country inviting to the squatter." Dr. Leichardt thinks there are many districts suitable for the cultivation of rice and cotton. In regard to a communication between the settlements, it is the decided opinion of the Doctor, that no line of road can be effected direct from Fort Bourke to the northern settlement. A route from Moreton bay to the gulf of Carpentaria will be easily constructed. The whole coast is backed by ranges of mountains, consisting, nearest the sea, generally of granite and basaltic rocks, which he calls the granite range; behind this is a second range of sandstone. Descending from this and again rising, they entered upon the table-land; which they could nowhere penetrate, so as to determine what might be the character of the central country. It was covered with a dense shrub, had no water; and frequently there was difficulty in descending from it, owing to the perpendicular cliffs and deep ravines. They passed several rivers all of which ran easterly towards the coast. After reaching the Gulf of Carpentaria, they again ascended the table-land, and suffered extremely for want of water. The country beneath them was delightful to look at, but they were unable to descend to it, until they reached the dip towards the Alligaters. Here the country surpassed in fertility any thing that they had seen. By later advices from Sydney, it appears that this enterprising and zealous traveller, is again making arrangements for another expedition to explore the interior of this great island.[60] The Doctor now proposes to leave Moreton bay and endeavor to trace the sources of the rivers which flow into the Gulf of Carpentaria. He will then proceed northwest, penetrating directly across the unknown and unexplored interior, forming the are of a circle, to Swan river. This will be the most daring journey yet attempted; but under the direction of one who has already shown so much perseverance and undergone such severe hardships, it is to be hoped that his efforts may be crowned with success. An expedition for the exploration of Australia, under the command of Sir Thomas L. Mitchell, is at present employed in traversing the unknown parts of this vast country. When last heard from, the expedition had reached the latitude of 29° 45´ longitude 147° 34´. The particulars of Dr. Leichardt's journey have been sent to him to guide him in his course of future operations.[61] The following list embraces the latest works on Australia. Physical description of New South Wales and Van Dieman's Land, accompanied by a Geographical map, by P.E. de Strzelecki. 8vo. 1845. South Australia and its Mines; with an account of Captain Grey's government, by Fr. Dutton. 8vo. London, 1846. History of New South Wales, from its settlement to the close of the year 1844, by Thomas H. Braim. 2 vols. post, 8vo. London, 1846. Reminiscences of Australia, with hints on the Squatters' life, by C.P. Hodgson. post, 8vo. London, 1846. A visit to the Antipodes; with some reminiscences of a sojourn in Australia. By a Squatter. 8vo. London, 1846. Enterprise in tropical Australia. By George W. Earl. 8vo. London, 1846. Impressions of Savage life, and scenes in Australia and New Zealand. By G.F. Augas. 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1847. Travels in New South Wales. By Alexander Majoribanks. 12mo. Lond. 1847. Simmonds' Colonial Magazine contains a vast deal of information relating to Australia, as well as to other British Colonies, and is unquestionably the best book of reference on subjects relating to the history and present condition of the British colonies of any work extant. ASIA. LYCIA, ASIA MINOR. This interesting region has been further explored by two English gentlemen, Lieut. Spratt, R.N., and Professor Forbes, who, accompanied by the Reverend E.T. Daniel, embarked from England in the year 1842, in H.M. ship Beacon, for the coast of Lycia, for the purpose of bringing home the remarkable monuments of antiquity discovered by Sir Charles Fellows. This gentleman, it will be remembered, was the first who in modern times successfully explored the interior. He visited the sites of many ancient cities and towns; copied numerous inscriptions, by means of which he was enabled to identify the names of fifteen out of eighteen cities; and made sketches of the most interesting sculptures and monuments. It is remarkable that a country so often spoken of by the Greek and Roman historians should not have sooner attracted attention, when districts contiguous to, as well as far beyond, have been so thoroughly explored. The ruins on the southern coast of Asia Minor, were first made known by Captain Beaufort, who discovered them when employed in making a survey of this coast. Several travellers subsequently made short excursions into the country; but it was not until Mr. now Sir Charles Fellows, in 1838 and 1840, made his visits and explorations, that the riches of the interior in historical monuments were disclosed. The relics of antiquity brought to light in these researches, consist first of the ruins of large cities, many of which, by reason of their isolated situation among the high lands and mountains, seem to have been preserved from the destruction which usually attends depopulated cities situated in more accessible places. These ruined cities contain amphitheatres more or less spacious, and generally in a good state of preservation, temples, aqueducts, and sepulchral monuments, together with numbers of lesser buildings, the dwelling houses of the inhabitants. The ruins of Christian churches are also found in many places, and in one instance a large and elegant cathedral; the purposes of these are satisfactorily made out by their inscriptions; and the date of their erection, when not otherwise known, may be fixed by their style of architecture. The most numerous as well as the most interesting monuments of these ancient cities, are their sepulchres. In some instances where a mountain or high rock is contiguous, it is pierced with thousands of tombs, presenting an appearance similar to Petræa in Idumea, sometimes called the City of the Dead. The roads in all directions are lined with tombs and sarcophagi, many of them covered with elaborate sculptures and inscriptions. It is by means of the latter, which abound and which exist in a fine state of preservation, that the names of the cities are identified and other historical facts brought to light. The following is a translation of the most common form of sepulchral inscription. "THIS TOMB APOLLONIDES, SON OF MOLISSAS, MADE FOR HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN: AND IF ANY ONE VIOLATES IT, LET HIM PAY A FINE." Coins too are found, which possess considerable historic interest. In architecture, we find excellent specimens of the several Grecian orders, exhibiting both the perfection and declension of the art. The works of Sir Charles Fellows abound in architectural representations. A pointed arch was discovered by Lieut. Spratt and Professor Forbes in the interior of a tomb (a sketch of which is given) among the ruins of Antiphellas. This conclusively shows, that this peculiar form of the arch was not first introduced with Gothic architecture, as has been generally believed, but belongs to a period anterior to the Christian era. An inscription in the Lycian and Latin was found on the monument. The language of the ancient Lycians is an important discovery which has resulted from these researches. A bilingual inscription in Lycian and Greek first led to the key, and similar inscriptions, subsequently discovered, have furnished sufficient materials for ascertaining the values of the several letters of the alphabet, which consists of twenty-seven letters, two of which are still doubtful. Able disquisitions on the language have been written by Mr. Sharpe and Professor Grotefend. In regard to the antiquity of the monuments, and the people who spoke the language called Lycian, now first made known through these inscriptions, we are enabled to arrive at conclusions which fix their era with some degree of certainty. The earliest inscription yet decyphered is a bilingual one, which consists of an edict, in which the name of Harpagus, or his son, a well known personage, is mentioned; which would give a date of 530 to 500 B.C. This is about the period of the earliest arrow-head inscriptions yet known--namely, those at Behistun, of the age of Darius, decyphered by Major Rawlinson. The language belongs to the same family as the Zend and old Persian, and is supposed to have been in use in the same age as the former, and along with that of the Persepolitan inscriptions. The sculptures too, bear some resemblance to the figures on the Persian monuments, particularly the well known figure with an umbrella, so common on the latter. Other reasons are adduced by scholars for fixing the date of the Lycian language not before the fifth century B.C., or to the age of Herodotus. This historian was from the adjoining province of Caria; and as might be expected, gives accounts of the Lycians before his time, but does not say that they spoke a language different from his own, or from that of the entire region,--a fact that he would not have overlooked had such been the case. It is believed that Cyrus, when he subjected this country, brought in some people from his Persian dominions, who afterwards became the dominant party, and introduced their language.[62] It is surprising to find the names of these Lycian cities so well preserved when the descendants of its ancient inhabitants have been so entirely swept out of the country, and replaced by a people differing in manners, in religion, and having no interest connected with the locality to induce them to respect the relics or names, and keep alive the memory, of the former possessors of the soil. Travels in Lycia, Milytas and the Cibyrates, in company with the late Rev. E.T. Daniel, by Lieut. Spratt, R.N., and Prof. E. Forbes. 2 vols. 8vo. Lond. 1847. A Journal written during an excursion in Asia Minor, by Charles Fellows. royal 8vo. London, 1839. An account of Discoveries in Lycia, in 1840. By Charles Fellows, royal 8vo. An Essay on the Lycian language. By Daniel Sharpe. (In the appendix to Fellows' Journal.) ARABIA. If we now turn to the discoveries that have recently been made in the southern part of Arabia, we find much in them worthy of attention. This country, called in the Scriptures Hazarmaveth, by the natives Hadramaut, and by the classical writers of antiquity, Arabia Felix, is celebrated as being the kingdom of the Queen of Sheba, who visited Solomon, as well as for the gold, gems, frankincense and other precious productions, which it furnished in ancient times. It is represented by the Greek and Roman writers as a populous country, with many extensive cities, abounding in temples and palaces; though the palpable fables with which these accounts are intermingled, show that at least they had no personal knowledge of the facts, but retailed them at second hand. After Europe had awoke from the intellectual slumber of the dark ages, the Arabs were long regarded only as objects of religious and political abhorrence. The discovery of the route to India by the Cape of Good Hope, at the close of the fifteenth century, by diverting the channel of Indo-European traffic from the Red Sea, left the countries bordering upon it in such a state of solitude, that when better feelings began to prevail, there was no means of obtaining any direct information respecting them. In 1650, the illustrious Pococke, by the publication of his Specimens of Ancient Arabian History, extracted from native authors, created a curiosity respecting Southern Arabia and its ancient inhabitants, which successive collections of a similar nature, down to our own times, have served rather to increase than to gratify. The researches of Niebuhr, Seetzen, and Burckhardt, in the latter part of the last, and the beginning of the present century, made us somewhat acquainted with the western extremity of this country, along the shores of the Red Sea; but before the investigations of which we are about to speak, its southern coast had never been accurately explored, and the great body of the interior, with its once famous capital, Mareb, remained, as it ever had been, completely unknown to and unvisited by the natives of Europe. The hordes of pirates, which until twenty years ago infested the Persian Gulf, caused the government of British India to order a complete survey of its islands and both its shores, with the view of laying bare their haunts, and putting an end to their depredations. In 1829, after this service had been performed, the project then recently set on foot of establishing a steam communication between England and Bombay, caused orders to be issued for a similar examination of the Red Sea. The attention of the officers composing the expedition, was not restricted to the technical duties in which they were chiefly engaged. It was well known that information of every kind would be prized by the government which they served; and this, together with the monotony of life on board ship on the one hand, and the novelty of the scenes by which they were surrounded on the other, seems to have created among them a spirit of emulation that led to the most interesting discoveries respecting both the geography and the antiquities of the adjacent countries. Among the most intelligent and enterprising of these officers was the late Lieut. Wellsted, who thus describes his reflections on joining the expedition in the Red Sea, on the 12th October, 1830. "From the earliest dawn of history, the northern shores of the Red Sea have figured as the scene of events which both religious and civil records have united to render memorable. Here Moses and the Patriarchs tended their flocks, and put in motion those springs of civilization, which, from that period, have never ceased to urge forward the whole human race in the career of improvement. On the one hand the Valley of the Wanderings, commencing near the site of Memphis, and opening upon the Red Sea, conducts the fancy along the track pursued by the Hebrews during their flight out of Egypt; on the other hand are Mount Sinai, bearing still upon its face the impress of miraculous events, and beyond it that strange, stormy, and gloomy-looking sea, once frequented by Phoenician merchants' ships, by the fleets of Solomon and Pharaoh, and those barks of later times which bore the incenses, the gems, the gold and spices of the East, to be consumed or lavishly squandered upon favorites at the courts of Macedonia or Rome. But the countries lying along this offshoot of the Indian Ocean, have another kind of interest, peculiar perhaps to themselves. On the Arabian side we find society much what it was four thousand years ago; for amidst the children of Ishmael it has undergone but trifling modifications. Their tents are neither better nor worse than they were when they purchased Joseph of his brethren, on their way to Egypt; the Sheikhs possess no other power or influence than they enjoyed then; the relations of the sexes have suffered little or no changes; they eat, drink, clothe themselves, educate their children, make war and peace, just as they did in the day of the Exodus. But on the opposite shores, all has been change, fluctuation, and decay. While the Bedouins have wandered with their camels and their flocks, unaspiring, unimproving, they have looked across the gulf and beheld the Egyptian overthrown by the Persian, the Persian by the Greek, the Greek by the Roman, and the Roman in his turn by a daring band from their own burning deserts. They have seen empires grow up like Jonah's gourd. War has swept away some; the varieties and luxuries of peace have brought others to the ground; and every spot along these shores is celebrated." When the northeastern and the western shores of the Arabian peninsula had thus been investigated, there still remained to be explored the south eastern shore, the coast of the anciently renowned province of Hadramaut, extending from Tehama, on the Red Sea, to the province of Oman, at the entrance to the Persian Gulf; and it is to the discoveries made in this almost unknown part of the world that I now wish more particularly to allude. In the year 1839 Capt. Haines, the commander of the expedition and the present governor of Aden, published his survey of about two fifths of this coast, extending from the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb as far east as Missenaat, in long. 51° east of Greenwich.[63] In the year 1845, he published his further survey of about an equal portion extending to Cape Isolette, in long. 57° 51´, leaving about one fifth of the whole extent on the eastern end still to be explored.[64] In June, 1843, Adolphe Baron Wrede, a Hanoverian gentleman, made an excursion from Makallah on the coast, into the interior of the country. He visited among other places an extensive valley called Wadi Doan, which he thus describes. "The sudden appearance of the Wadi Doan, took me by surprise and impressed me much with the grandeur of the scene. The ravine, five hundred feet wide and six hundred feet in depth, is enclosed between perpendicular rocks, the debris of which form in one part a slope reaching to half their height. On this slope, towns and villages rise contiguously in the form of an amphitheatre; while below the date grounds, which are covered with a forest of trees, the river about twenty feet broad and enclosed by high and walled embankments is seen winding through fields laid out in terraces, then pursuing its course in the open plain, irrigated by small canals branching from it. My first view of the valley disclosed to me four towns and four villages, within the space of an hour's distance." He also gives an account of some curious spots of quicksand, in the midst of the great desert of El-Akkaf, which are regarded with superstitious horror by the wandering Bedouins. A cord of sixty fathoms in length with a plummet at the end, which he cast into one of them, disappeared in the course of five minutes. His narrative is published in the fourteenth volume of the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London. In spite of the glowing descriptions of ancient authors, the idea hitherto entertained of this region in modern times, has been that of a succession of desert plains and sand-hills, with nothing to give animation to the arid scene but solitary groups of Bedouins and occasionally a passing caravan. The recent explorations, however, of which the one just quoted is a specimen, show that this is far from being a correct view of the entire country. The coast is thickly studded with fishing-villages and small seaports, which still carry on, though on a diminished scale, the trade with India and the Persian gulf, which has existed ever since the dawn of history. It is true, the general appearance of the country along the coast, consisting as it does of successive ranges of sand-hills, is such as to naturally give rise to the views entertained and promulgated by navigators, who have had no opportunity of visiting the interior. But the deeper researches that have been made during the last ten or twelve years, show that these opinions are very erroneous; for besides that there are a number of green valleys running down to the coast, produced by streams provided with water for at least a good part of the year, no sooner has the traveller surmounted the first range of sand-hills, than his sight begins to be regaled with numerous well watered valleys and mountains covered with verdure. Besides this, even in those parts of the country where the surface is naturally a desert plain, the inhabitants have possessed from the remotest times the art of forming flourishing oases, in which to establish their hamlets and towns; an operation which, as Wellsted remarks, is effected with a labor and skill that seem more Chinese than Arabian. This traveller says: "The greater part of the face of the country being destitute of running streams on the surface, the Arabs have sought in elevated places for springs or fountains beneath it. A channel from this fountain-head is then, with a very slight descent, bored in the direction in which it is to be conveyed, leaving apertures at regular distances, to afford light and air to those who are occasionally sent to keep it clean. In this manner water is frequently conducted from a distance of six or eight miles, and an unlimited supply is thus obtained. These channels are usually about four feet broad and two feet deep, and contain a clear and rapid stream. Few of the large towns or oases but had four or five of these rivulets or feleji running into them. The isolated spots to which water is thus conveyed possess a soil so fertile, that nearly every grain, fruit, or vegetable, common to India, Arabia, or Persia, is produced almost spontaneously; and the tales of the oases will be no longer regarded as an exaggeration, since a single step conveys the traveller from the glare and sand of the desert into a fertile tract, watered by a hundred rills, teeming with the most luxuriant vegetation, and embowered by lofty and stately trees, whose umbrageous foliage the fiercest rays of a noontide sun cannot penetrate."[65] These oases and the towns situated in them, date from various periods; some of those already discovered being evidently of considerable antiquity. In describing some of these towns, Wellsted says: "The instant you step from the Desert within the Grove, a most sensible change of the atmosphere is experienced. The air feels cold and damp; the ground in every direction is saturated with moisture; and from the density of the shade, the whole appears dark and gloomy. To avoid the damp and catch an occasional beam of the sun above the trees, the houses are usually very lofty. A parapet encircling the upper part is turreted; and on some of the largest houses guns are mounted. The windows and doors have the Saracenic arch; and every part of the building is profusely decorated with ornaments of stucco in bas relief, some in very good taste. The doors are also cased with brass, and have rings and other massive ornaments of the same metal." These descriptions relate to the province of Oman, the eastern extremity of Southern Arabia. The glimpses already obtained of this ancient and famous land, sufficiently prove that the fortunate traveller who shall succeed in obtaining access into the interior of the country, which has always been a _terra incognita_ to Europeans and their descendants, will find an abundance of objects of interest to reward his zeal and self-devotion. There is however another class of interesting objects, relating to the ancient history of the country, which I have not alluded to until now, because I wish to speak of them more particularly. These are the ancient _inscriptions_, of which a number have already been discovered and in part decyphered. Several Arabian writers have stated that there existed in the southern part of their country, before the time of Mohammed, a kind of writing which they call Himyaritic, after the name of the ancient inhabitants of the country, the Beni Himyar. But the confused nature of these accounts, together with the Arab practice of giving the name of Himyaritic to every ancient mode of writing which they were unable to read, caused the story to be regarded as little better than fabulous. In the year 1808 the late Baron de Sacy published a learned treatise on the subject, in which he collected all the Arabian accounts; but no further progress was made in the enquiry, until the discovery of a number of inscriptions on various massy ruins situated along the coast and in the interior, by officers attached to the surveying expedition already spoken of, in the years 1834 and '5. Copies of these inscriptions were transmitted to the late Dr. Gesenius of Halle, one of the first Orientalists of Europe. After making some progress in the investigation, he gave up the subject to his colleague Dr. Rödiger, who had devoted himself to it with great ardor and success. The latter published a copious dissertation containing the results he had arrived at, which he reprinted in 1842 by way of an appendix to his German edition of Wellsted's Travels in Arabia. By comparing the characters of the inscriptions with the Himyaritic alphabets contained in some Arabic manuscripts and with the present Ethiopic alphabet, he was enabled to ascertain the powers of the letters, and even to interpret, with various degrees of certainty, many portions of the inscriptions themselves. Thus, these venerable records, which in all probability have for many ages been dumb to every human being, are in a fair way of being made to yield up to modern scientific research whatever information they may contain. That this information must be interesting and valuable to the historian is inferred from the imposing nature of the structures on which they are found, and whose existence but a few years ago was as little looked for in this part of the world as in the forest wilds of Oregon. A full account of these discoveries and of the attempts at decyphering the inscriptions was published in 1845 in the first volume of the Transactions of the Ethnological Society of this city. I will therefore merely proceed to state what has been accomplished in the matter since the time when that account closes. In the beginning of 1843, the same year in which M. Wrede made his exploration, a French physician of the name of Arnaud being then at Jiddah, received from M. Fresnel, the French consular agent at that port, accounts of the Himyaritic inscriptions discovered by the officers of the Indian Navy, and of the interest they had created in Europe. M. Arnaud's enthusiasm being excited on the subject, he resolved to take a share in these arduous researches. The grand object of his ambition was to reach Mareb, the ancient capital of Hadramaut and the residence of the famous Queen of Sheba, whose name according to the Arabians was Balkis. Two English officers had undertaken the journey several years ago, and had reached Sana, a town within three or four days' journey of it; but the suspicions of the native authorities becoming excited, their further progress was prevented. The mode of proceeding adopted by M. Arnaud, who spoke the Arabic fluently, was to travel as a Mussulman, in company with a caravan going to the place. His plan was happily crowned with success. In the middle of July he reached the city, where he saw the imposing remains of the ancient dam, said to have been built across the valley of Mareb by Balkis herself, and which, by collecting an immense body of water near the metropolis, whence the surrounding country was irrigated, had given rise to the fertility and beauty for which the region was celebrated in ancient times. On these remains M. Arnaud discovered a number of inscriptions, as also among the ruins of the former city; among the most remarkable of these is one called Harem Balkis, which is thought to be the remains of the palace of the ancient Sabean kings. The inscriptions of which Mr. Arnaud brought away copies with him amount to fifty-six in number. The tour of M. Wrede was also not unproductive in this respect. He copied, among others, a long inscription in Wadi Doan; which, according to the interpretations that have since been made of it, contains a list of kings more copious than those which have been left us by Albulfeda and other historians of the middle ages. When M. Arnaud returned to Jiddah from his hazardous and toilsome expedition, M. Fresnel, who had originally moved him to the undertaking, set about studying the new inscriptions, aided by the previous labors of the German scholars and his own knowledge of Arabic and the modern Himyaritic. Possessing a far more abundant supply of materials than had been collected before, he was able to assign to a few doubtful characters their proper values. He transmitted to Paris a fair copy of the original inscriptions, and also a transcription of them in the Arabic character, showing how they should be read. A fount of Himyaritic types having been constructed for the express purpose at the Imprimerie Royale, they were all published in the course of last year in the Journal Asiatique, together with several letters on the subject from M. Fresnel. The form of the characters in these inscriptions is essentially the same as in those discovered before; but, whereas the former ones all read from right to left like the Arabic of the present day, some of the new ones are found to read alternately from right to left and from left to right, like some of the inscriptions of ancient Greece. M. Fresnel's attention has been mainly directed to the collection and identification of the proper names of persons, deities, and places, in which the inscriptions abound, and in which he recognises many names mentioned in Scripture, and in Greek, Roman, and Arabian authors. Thus he identifies the deity 'Athtor with the Ashtoreth or Venus of the Hebrews. He finds in an inscription at Hisn Ghorab the word Kaná, showing the correctness of the conclusion already arrived at that this is the _Cane emporium_ of Ptolemy. He identifies the ruins of Kharibeh, a day's journey to the west of Mareb, with the Caripeta of Pliny, the furthest point reached by the Roman commander, Ælius Gallus, in his expedition into Arabia Felix, in the reign of Augustus Cæsar. He has also recognised many names of Himyaritic sovereigns mentioned by Arabian writers, among others those of the grandfather and uncle of Queen Balkis. M. Fresnel has also begun to translate the inscriptions connectedly, a work of great labor and difficulty. He has already furnished an improved reading and translation of one at Sana, which had been copied before by English officers, and interpreted by Gesenius and Rödiger, and has offered a translation of another found by M. Arnaud, on the Hiram Balkis at Mareb. The discoveries already brought to light, merely serve to show the richness of the mine that yet remains to be explored. Other expeditions are now planning, or in progress of execution, for penetrating into other parts of the country; and eminent scholars are busied in elucidating the treasures which the enterprize of travellers is bringing to light. Their united exertions cannot fail, at least, to accumulate many curious particulars relative to the history of one of the most remarkable and least known nations of past ages. The Rev. T. Brockman, who was sent by the Royal Geographical Society of England for the purpose of geographical and antiquarian research in the Arabian peninsula, had proceeded up the coast from Aden to Shehar, midway between Aden and Muscat, and had coasted along to Cape Ras al-Gat. Subsequently in attempting to reach Muscat, he was arrested by sickness at Wadi Beni Jabor, where after a few days he died. His papers, which will be sent to the Geographical Society, are thought to contain matters of interest respecting this region.[66] The following list embraces all of consequence that has been written on Southern Arabia and the Himyaritic Inscriptions. Pococke, Specimina Historiæ veterum Arabum. Oxford, 1649, reprinted 1806. De Sacy, sur divers Évènemens de l'histoire des Arabes avant Mahomet, in Mém. de Lit. de l'Acad. Française, Vol. L. Paris, 1805. Historia Jemanæ, e cod. MS. arabico, ed. G.T. Johannsen. Bonn, 1828. Travels in Arabia, by Lieut. Wellsted, 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1838. Memoir on the south coast of Arabia, by Capt. Harris. Journal Royal Geographical Society, Vol. VI. IX. Narrative of a Journey from Mokha to Sana: by C.J. Cruttenden.--Ibid. Vol. VIII. Gesenius, Über die Himjaritischen Sprache und Schrift, Halle, 1841. Rödiger, Versuch über die Himjaritischen Schriftmonumente. Halle, 1841. This was republished, with many improvements, in an Appendix to the author's German translation of Wellsted's Travels. 2 vols. Halle, 1842. Ewald, on an inscription recently dug up in Aden, Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, 1843. The Historical Geography of Arabia, or the Patriarchal Evidences of Revealed Religion. By the Rev. Charles Forster, 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1844. F. Fresnel. Letters to M. Jules Mohl, on the Himyaritic Inscriptions. Paris, 1845. Account of an excursion to Hadramaut, by Adolph Baron Wrede. Journal Royal Geographical Society, Vol. XIV. Memoir of the south and east coast of Arabia, by Capt. S.B. Harris.--Ibid. Vol. XV. SCLAVONIC MSS.--It is stated in the Russian papers that M. Grigorowitsch, professor of the sclavonic tongues in the Imperial University of Kasan, has returned to that capital from a two year's journey in the interior of Turkey, by order of the Russian government, in search of the graphic monuments of the ancient Sclavonic nations. He has brought home fac-similes of many hundred inscriptions, and 2,138 Sclavonian manuscripts--450 of which are said to be very ancient, and of great importance. THE CAUCASUS.--The results of a scientific expedition for the exploration of the Steppes of the Caspian Sea, the Caucasus, and of Southern Russia, under the direction of M. Hommaire de Hell, has lately been published. This portion of the East has been little noticed by travellers, and the present work has therefore added much to our previous knowledge of the country. It is accompanied by a large map, on which the geographical and geological peculiarities are defined with great minuteness and elegance.[67] ASSYRIA AND PERSIA. The discoveries recently made, and the researches now in progress in those regions of the world known in ancient times as Assyria, Babylonia and Persia, are among the most interesting and important of the age. Of the ancient Assyrians and Babylonians we know nothing, but what we find in the Bible, or what has been preserved and handed down to us by the Greek historians. Unlike Egypt, who has left so many records of her greatness, of her knowledge of the arts, and of her advancement in civilization, in the numerous and wonderful monumental remains in the valley of the Nile, the Assyrians were supposed to have left nothing, no existing monuments as evidences that they ever had an existence, save in the vast and misshapen heaps along the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris, believed to wash the spots where the great cities of Nineveh and Babylon once stood. The site of Nineveh still remains doubtful; and so literally have the prophecies in regard to Babylon been fulfilled, that nothing but vast heaps of rubbish, of tumuli, and traces of numerous canals, remains. The language of the Assyrians is unknown, and the impressions of characters in the form of a wedge or arrow-head stamped upon the bricks and other relics dug from these heaps, have been looked upon as mysterious and cabalistic signs, rather than the representatives of sounds, or belonging to a regular form of speech. For more than twenty centuries, these countries have been as a blank on the page of history; and all we have gathered from them consists in the observations of curious travellers, who, at the risk of their lives, have ventured to extend their wanderings this way. Pietro della Valle, Le Brun, Niebuhr, Ker Porter, Rich, and Ouseley, have given us descriptions of the ancient remains in Persia and Assyria, particularly those at Persepolis, Pasargadæ, and Babylon. These consist of views of the monuments and sculptures, together with copies of the inscriptions in the cuneiform, or arrow-head character. The object of the edifices, the subject of the sculptures, and the meaning of the inscriptions, were wholly matters of conjecture; and it seemed a hopeless task to arrive at any conclusions in relation to them, until some key should be discovered, by the means of which the language should be made known, and the numerous inscriptions decyphered. No bilingual tablet, such as the Rosetta stone of Egypt, had been discovered; and, although it appeared that many of the inscriptions were recorded in three different languages, no means seemed to exist by which philologists could obtain a clue to their meaning. With this dark prospect in view, the task of decyphering the arrow-headed characters was attempted by M. Grotefend, one of the most sagacious and distinguished philologists of Europe. The particulars of the attempt and its results, we shall briefly state. At Persepolis it is known are extensive ruins, chiefly belonging to a large edifice, with every indication that this edifice was originally a royal palace. History and tradition supported this belief; and the general character of the sculptures and architecture, together with the inscriptions, would carry its origin back to a period some centuries before the Christian era. It was doubtless the work of one of the great monarchs of Persia; of Cyrus, Cambyses, Xerxes, Darius, or some other with whom history is familiar.[68] On some of the monuments at Persepolis, are inscriptions in the Pehlvi character, parts of which have been decyphered by M. de Sacy. In one of these, the titles and name of a king are often repeated; these titles M. Grotefend thought might be repeated in the same manner in the arrow-head characters.[69] Over the doorways and in other parts of this edifice, are portraits, evidently of kings, as there is always enough in the dress and insignia of a monarch to enable one to detect him on any ancient monument. Over these portraits are inscriptions; these it was natural to suppose related to the person represented, and if so, contained the name of the king and his titles. Such would be the conclusion of any one who reflected on the subject, and such was the belief of M. Grotefend and other philologists. In these inscriptions one group of characters was repeated more frequently than any other, and all agreed that the decyphering of this group would furnish a key to the whole. On this group of characters then our Savans set to work. According to the analogy of the Pehlvi inscriptions, decyphered by De Sacy, it was believed that the inscriptions then under consideration, mentioned the name of a king son of another king, that is the names of father and son. M. Grotefend first examined the bas-reliefs at Persepolis, to ascertain the particular age of the Persian kings to which they belonged, in order that he might discover the names applicable to the inscription. A reference to the Greek historians convinced him that he must look for the kings of the dynasty of the Achæmenides, and he accordingly applied their names to the characters of the inscriptions. "These names could obviously not be Cyrus and Cambyses, because the names occurring in the inscriptions do not begin with the same letter; Cyrus and Artaxerxes were equally inapplicable, the first being too short and the latter too long; there only remained therefore the names of Darius and Xerxes;" and these latter agreed so exactly with the characters, that Mr. Grotefend did not hesitate to select them. The next step was to ascertain what these names were in the old Persian language, as they come to us through the Greek, and would of course differ somewhat from the original. The ancient Zend, as preserved in the Zendavesta, furnished the only medium through which the desired information could be obtained.[70] He next ascertained that Xerxes was called _Kshershe_ or _Ksharsha_; and Darius, _Dareush_. A farther examination gave him the name of _Kshe_ or _Ksheio_ for 'king.'[71] The places or groups of characters corresponding with these names, were then analyzed and the value of each character ascertained. These were then applied to other portions of the inscriptions, and led to the translation of two short ones, as well as to the formation of a considerable portion of the alphabet. Such was the result of Professor Grotefend's labors up to the year 1833. His first discovery was made and announced as early as 1802, but an account of his system of interpretation did not appear until 1815, in the appendix to the third German edition of Heeren's Researches. This was afterwards enlarged in the translation of Heeren published at Oxford in 1833, when it was first made known to English readers. In 1837 he published a treatise containing an account of all the Persepolitan inscriptions in his possession, and another in 1840 on those of Babylon. The brilliant success which attended Grotefend's earlier efforts, soon attracted the attention of other philologists to the subject. M. Saint Martin read a memoir before the Asiatic Society of Paris in 1822, but did not make any additions to our previous knowledge. Professor Rask next took it up, and discovered the value of two additional characters. M. Burnouf followed in 1836, with an elaborate memoir, in which he disclosed some important discoveries.[72] Professor Lassen, in his Memoir published in 1836, and in a series of papers continued up to the present day,[73] has identified at least twelve characters, which had been mistaken by all his predecessors, and which, says Maj. Rawlinson, "may entitle him almost to contest with Professor Grotefend the palm of alphabetical discovery." In 1835, Major Rawlinson, then residing in Persia, turned his attention to the subject, and decyphered some of the proper names on the tablets at Hamadan. In the following year he applied himself to the great inscription at Behistun, the largest and most remarkable that is known in Persia, and succeeded in making out several lines of its contents. The result of Major Rawlinson's first attempt at decyphering the Behistun inscription, was the identification of several proper names, and consequently the values of additional characters towards the completion of the alphabet.[74] But more was wanted than the alphabet, which only enabled the student to make out proper names, but not to advance beyond; and it was the lack of this knowledge which prevented the sagacious and indefatigable Grotefend from carrying out to any great extent, the discoveries which he had so well begun. The language of the inscriptions must next be studied; and as the Zend had been the medium through which the first links in the chain of interpretation had been obtained, it was naturally resorted to for aid to farther progress. The Zendavesta, with the researches of Anquetil du Perron, and the commentary at the Yaçna by M. Burnouf, wherein the language of the Zendavesta is critically analyzed, and its grammatical structure developed, furnished the necessary materials. To the latter work, and the luminous critique of M. Burnouf, Major Rawlinson owes the success of his translations; as he acknowledges that by it he "obtained a general knowledge of the grammatical structure of the language of the inscriptions." But the Zend was not of itself sufficient to make out all the words and expressions in the Behistun and other inscriptions. Other languages contemporary with that of the inscription and of the Zend must be sought for, to elucidate many points which it left obscure.[75] The Sanscrit was the only one laying claim to a great antiquity, whose grammatical structure was sufficiently developed to render it useful in this enquiry. A knowledge of this language had previously been acquired by Major Rawlinson, and he was therefore fully prepared for the arduous task he had undertaken. Neither of these, it must be observed, was the language of the inscriptions, which it is believed had ceased to be a living form of speech, at the period when the Sanscrit and Zend were in current use. It is unnecessary to note in detail the difficulties and great labor attending the decyphering of the Behistun tablets, on which Major Rawlinson was occupied from time to time during a space of ten years. His discoveries were announced in London, in a memoir read before the Royal Asiatic Society in 1839, but were not published in extenso until 1846. Briefly to sum up the results of his labors, it will suffice to state that they present "a correct grammatical translation of nearly four hundred lines of cuneiform writing, a memorial of the time of Darius Hystaspes, the greater part of which is in so perfect a state as to afford ample and certain grounds for a minute orthographical and etymological analysis, and the purport of which to the historian, must be of fully equal interest with the peculiarities of the language to the philologist." In a few cases it may be found necessary to alter or modify some of the significations assigned; but there is no doubt but that the general meaning of every paragraph is accurately determined, and that the learned Orientalist has thus been enabled "to exhibit a correct historical outline, possessing the weight of royal and contemporaneous recital, of many great events which preceded the rise and marked the career of one of the most celebrated of the early sovereigns of Persia." Such is the history of this great discovery, which has placed the name of Major Rawlinson among the most distinguished Oriental scholars of the age. He will rank among the laborers in cuneiform writing, where Champollion does among the decypherers of Egyptian hieroglyphics; for though, like Champollion, he did not make the first discoveries in his branch of Palæography, he is certainly entitled to the honor of reducing it to a system, by ascertaining the true powers of a large portion of the alphabet, and by elucidating its grammatical peculiarities, so that future investigators will find little difficulty in translating any inscription in the particular class of characters in question. The cuneiform (wedge-shaped) or arrow-headed character is a system of writing peculiar to the countries between the Euphrates and the Persian frontier on the East. Various combinations of a figure shaped like a wedge, together with one produced by the union of two wedges, constitute the system of writing employed by the ancient Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, and the Achæmenian kings of Persia. The character seems to have been as extensively employed in this portion of the world, as the Roman letters now are in Europe. Particular arrangements or combinations of these characters apparently belonged to different nations, speaking different languages. When and where this system of writing originated is not known. Professor Westergaard[76] thinks that "Babylon was its cradle, whence it spread in two branches, eastward to Susiana, and northward to the Assyrian empire, from whence it passed into Media, and lastly into ancient Persia, where it was much improved and brought to its greatest perfection." Major Rawlinson makes of the arrow-headed writing three great classes or divisions, the _Babylonian_, _Median_ and _Persian_. The first of these he thinks is unquestionably the oldest. "It is found upon the bricks excavated from the foundations of all the buildings in Mesopotamia, Babylonia, and Chaldea, that possess the highest and most authentic claims to antiquity;" and he thinks it "not extravagant therefore to assign its invention to the primitive race which settled in the plain of Shinar."[77] In the recent excavations made by M. Botta and Mr. Layard, on or near the site of ancient Nineveh, numerous inscriptions in this form of the arrow-head character were found. It also occurs in detached inscriptions from the Mediterranean to the Persian mountains. A comparison of the various inscriptions in the Babylonian class of writing has led Major Rawlinson to believe that it embraces five distinct varieties, which he calls the Primitive Babylonian, the Achæmenian Babylonian, the Medo-Assyrian, the Assyrian, and the Elymæan.[78] The peculiarities of these several varieties, with the countries in which they are found, are pointed out in the second chapter of our author's learned Memoir on cuneiform writing. The Median and Persian classes are peculiar to the trilingual tablets of Persia, and are better known than the first class or Babylonian. Mr. Westergaard[79] divides the cuneiform writing into five classes: the _Assyrian_; the _Old Babylonian_; and the three kinds on the trilingual tablets of Persia, which embrace the _Median_ and _Persian_ varieties, and the one called by Rawlinson the _Achæmenian Babylonian_. The history we have already given of the progress made in decyphering these characters applies exclusively to one of the varieties on the tablets of Persia. The inscriptions on these monuments are almost invariably repeated in three sets of characters, and doubtless in three different languages. The characters of what appears in each case to be the primary or original inscription, of which the others are translations, are of the simplest construction, and consequently were the first to attract the attention of decypherers, and to yield to their efforts. The language in which they are written has been found to exhibit close affinities both to the Sanscrit and to the Zend, and is now termed by philologists the Old Persian. The system of writing is alphabetic, that is to say, each character represents a single articulate sound; whereas that of the other two species is at least in a great measure syllabic, which renders the task of decyphering them much more difficult. For our knowledge of the second variety of characters on the Persian trilingual tablets, we are indebted to the labors and sagacity of Professor Westergaard.[80] These characters had remained entirely undecyphered until the first kind had been completely made out. It was evident that the inscriptions in the second kind of character were but a translation of those in the first; and with this supposition, this learned Orientalist began the task of decyphering, by identifying the proper names Darius, Hystaspes, Cyrus, Xerxes, Persians, Ionians, &c., which frequently occur in the inscriptions decyphered by Major Rawlinson. Having obtained these, he next analyzed each and ascertained the phonetic values of the several characters of which they are composed. By this means, he was enabled to construct an alphabet. He next examined the introductory words and the titles of the sovereigns, and finally the entire inscriptions, all of which he has most satisfactorily made out, and with them has reconstructed the language in which they are written. In his learned and elaborate article detailing the process of this discovery, Professor Westergaard gives a systematic classification of the characters, one hundred in number, of which seventy-four are syllabic, twenty-four alphabetic, and two signs of division between words. The character of the language, which for convenience sake he terms Median, he does not pretend to decide, though he considers that it belongs to the Scythian rather than to the Japhetic class of languages; in which opinion Major Rawlinson coincides. The Oriental Journal alluded to in the second note to p. 90, contains several learned papers by Professors Westergaard and Lassen, on the arrow-headed inscriptions. In the third sort of Persepolitan characters, termed the Achæmenian Babylonian, some advances have been made by Major Rawlinson. The contents of the other portions of these tablets being known, he pursued the course adopted by Professor Westergaard, namely that of identifying the groups of characters corresponding with the proper names in the other inscriptions. He has thus been enabled to ascertain the phonetic values of a large number of characters which must in time lead to a knowledge of the rest of the alphabet. A beginning in this direction was also made by Professor Grotefend, who in his Memoirs of 1837 and 1840, singles out and places in juxtaposition the names of Cyrus, Hystaspes, Darius and Xerxes, in the first and third species of Persepolitan writing. There is every reason to hope that the labors of the three accomplished Oriental scholars, Rawlinson, Lassen, and Westergaard, which have been so far crowned with success, will add to their fame by making out the characters and language of this species of writing also. A high degree of interest is attached to it, not only on account of the information it embodies, but in regard to the nation to which it is assignable. It will be recollected, that besides these three sorts of Persepolitan writing, there are two other distinct classes of arrow-head characters, called Babylonian and Assyrian. Little or nothing has yet been accomplished towards decyphering them; which is owing to the fact that they are of a very complicated nature, and that they have hitherto been found alone, that is to say not accompanied by a version in any other language or character. A Parisian savant, M.J. Löwenstern, who has applied himself to the study of the Assyrian tablets, published in 1845 an Essay on the monument recently discovered by M. Botta at Khorsabad near Mosul, in which he thinks he has made out the groups which stand for the words _great king_, and also several alphabetical characters. Further investigations can alone determine whether or not his conclusions are correct. It will be necessary to state some of the historical facts brought to light by the labors of Major Rawlinson, to which we have alluded. The great tablet at Behistun relates exclusively to Darius. "To this monarch," says Major Rawlinson, "insatiable in his thirst of conquest, magnificent in his tastes, and possessed of an unlimited power, we are indebted for all that is most valuable in the palæography of Persia. Imbued, as it appears, with an ardent passion for monumental fame, he was not content to inscribe the palaces of his foundation at Persepolis with a legend commemorative of their erection, or with prayers invoking the guardianship of Ormuzd and his angels, but he lavished an elaborate workmanship on historic and geographic records in various quarters of his empire, which evince considerable political forethought, an earnest regard for truth, and an ambition to transmit the glories of his reign to future generations, to guide their conduct and invite their emulation. At Persepolis, the high place of Persian power, he aspired to elevate the moral feelings of his countrymen, and to secure their future dominancy in Asia, by displaying to them their superiority over the feudatory provinces of the empire,[81] while upon the sacred rock of Baghistan, he addressed himself in the style of an historian, to collect the genealogical traditions of his race, to describe the extent and power of his kingdom, and to relate, with a perspicuous brevity worthy of imitation, the leading incidents of his reign. His grave relation of the means by which, under the care and favor of a beneficent Providence, the crown of Persia first fell into his hands, and of the manner in which he subsequently established his authority, by the successive overthrow of the rebels who opposed him, contrasts strongly but most favorably with the usual emptiness of Oriental hyperbole." The following are some of the translations from the great inscription at Behistun, which embraces upwards of four hundred lines in the arrow-headed characters. In Major Rawlinson's Memoir, are given fac-similes of the original inscriptions, a transcription of the same in Roman letters with an interlineal translation in Latin, and a translation in English. Accompanying these, is a critical commentary on each line, together with notes, rendering the whole as clear as possible. "I am Darius, the great king, the king of kings, the king of Persia, the king of (the dependent) provinces, the son of Hystaspes, the grandson of Arsames, the Achæmenian. "Says Darius the King:--My father was Hystaspes; of Hystaspes, the father was Arsames; of Arsames, the father was Ariyaramnes; of Ariyaramnes, the father was Teispes; of Teispes, the father was Achæmenes. "Says Darius the King:--On that account, we have been called Achæmenians: from antiquity we have been unsubdued; from antiquity those of our race have been kings. "Says Darius the King:--There are eight of my race who have been kings before me, I am the ninth; for a very long time we have been kings. "Says Darius the King:--By the grace of Ormuzd, I am king; Ormuzd has granted me the empire. "Says Darius the King:--These are the countries which have fallen into my hands--by the grace of Ormuzd, I have become king of them--Persia, Susiana, Babylonia, Assyria, Arabia, Egypt; those which are of the sea, Sparta and Ionia; Armenia, Cappadocia, Parthia, Zarangea, Aria, Chorasmia, Bactria, Sogdiana, the Sacæ, the Sattagydes, Arachosia, and the Mecians; the total amount being twenty-one countries. "Says Darius the King:--These are the countries which have come to me; by the grace of Ormuzd, they have become subject to me--they have brought tribute to me. That which has been said unto them by me, both by night and by day, it has been performed by them. "Says Darius the King:--Ormuzd has granted me the empire. Ormuzd has brought help to me until I have gained this empire. By the grace of Ormuzd, I hold this empire. "Says Darius the King:-- ... He who was named Cambyses, the son of Cyrus of our race, he was here king before me. There was of that Cambyses a brother named Bartius; he was of the same father and mother as Cambyses. Cambyses slew this Bartius. When Cambyses slew that Bartius, the troubles of the state ceased which Bartius had excited. Then Cambyses proceeded to Egypt. When Cambyses had gone to Egypt, the state became heretical; then the lie became abounding in the land, both in Persia and in Media, and in the other provinces." He then goes on to speak of the rebellions in his dominions after the death of Cambyses, of the Magian who declared himself king, and that no one dared to resist him. He continues: "every one was standing obediently around the Magian, until I arrived. Then I abode in the worship of Ormuzd; Ormuzd brought help to me. On the 10th day of the month Bagayadish, I slew the Magian and the chief men who were his followers. By the grace of Ormuzd, I became king; Ormuzd granted me the sceptre." He then says, he "established his race on the throne, as in the days of old," prohibited the sacrificial worship introduced by the Magian, and restored the old families to office,--all of which was accomplished by the aid of Ormuzd. The people of Susiana and Babylon then became rebellious. He slew the leader of the former. "Says Darius the King:--Then I proceeded to Babylon against that Natitabirus, who was called Nabokhadrosser (Nebuchadnezzar). The forces of Natitabirus held the Tigris; there they had come and they had boats. Then I placed a detachment on rafts. I brought the enemy into difficulty; I assaulted the enemy's position. Ormuzd brought help to me; by the grace of Ormuzd, I succeeded in passing the Tigris. Then I entirely defeated the army of that Natitabirus. On the 27th day of the month of Atriyata, then it was that we thus fought." Darius then continued his march to Babylon, where he was met by the army of Natitabirus; he gave him battle and defeated him, driving his army into the water. He then took Babylon. It would appear from what this monarch relates, that he had a pretty rebellious set of subjects, who took advantage of his absence at Babylon. The inscription continues. "Says Darius the King:--whilst I was at Babylon, these are the countries that revolted against me; Persis, Susiana, Media, Assyria, Armenia, Parthia, Margiana, Sattagydia and Sacia." He then gives the names of the rebellious leaders and of the officers sent to subjugate them; the forts, villages, or cities, where battles were fought; the day of the month when they took place, and the result, in every case, by the help of Ormuzd. One example will suffice. After speaking of the revolt of Armenia, the inscription continues. "Says Darius the King:--Then Dadarses by name, an Armenian, one of my servants, him I sent to Armenia. I thus said to him: 'Greeting to thee, the rebel state that does not obey me, smite it.' Then Dadarses marched. When he reached Armenia, then the rebels having collected came before Dadarses arraying their battle ... by name, a village of Armenia, there they engaged. Ormuzd brought help to me; by the grace of Ormuzd, my forces entirely defeated that rebel army. On the 8th of the month Thurawahara, then it was a battle was fought by them." In this manner we have the whole history of the reign of Darius king of Persia, who filled the throne 550 B.C. And it may truly be said that no monument of remote antiquity which has been preserved to modern times, at all equals it in importance. The inscriptions of Egypt are far more ancient, but consist of fragments, which, excepting the tables of kings, do not throw much light on history. Nothing is more interesting in the details given by the Persian king of his successes, than his acknowledgment of an overruling power, a Supreme Being, who protected him and aided him in all his battles. From the closing part of this remarkable tablet, which consists of twenty paragraphs, we select the following. "Says Darius the King:--This is what I have done. By the grace of Ormuzd have I achieved the performance of the whole. Thou whoever hereafter may peruse this tablet, let it be known to thee, that which has been done by me, that it has not been falsely related. "Says Darius the King:--Ormuzd is my witness, that this record I have faithfully made of the performance of the whole. "Says Darius the King:--By the grace of Ormuzd, there is much else that has been done by me that upon this tablet has not been inscribed.... If thou publish this tablet to the world, Ormuzd shall be a friend to thee, and may thy offspring be numerous. "Says Darius the King:--If thou shalt conceal this record, thou shalt not thyself be recorded; may Ormuzd be thy enemy, and mayest thou be childless. "Says Darius the King:--As long as thou mayest behold this tablet and these figures, thou mayest not dishonor them; and if from injury thou shalt preserve them, may Ormuzd be a friend to thee, and may thy offspring be numerous, and mayest thou be long lived, and that which thou mayest do may Ormuzd bless for thee in after times." The great inscription from which we have made these extracts, is sculptured in three languages, and in three different forms of the arrow-headed character, the particulars of which have been stated. There are a few imperfections and cracks in the stone which made certain words and sentences unintelligible; these will be corrected when the other two inscriptions are decyphered. In the midst of these records is a piece of sculpture in relief, representing Darius followed by two of his officers, with his foot upon a man, who raises his hands before him, and nine other figures representing the rebellious leaders whom he had severally conquered. They are connected by a rope around their necks and have their hands tied behind, and are probably portraits of the persons they represent. Beneath each is engraved his name, as in the extract given. "This Natitabirus was an impostor: he thus declared, I am Nabokhadrosser, the son of Nabonidas; I am king of Babylon." The discoveries of Professor Westergaard, to whom we are indebted for the key to the second or Median form of the arrow-headed character, require notice. This accomplished Orientalist, on his return from an archæological tour in India and Persia, under the patronage of the king of Denmark, brought with him, among other literary treasures, copies of a great number of inscriptions in the arrow-headed character. While in Persepolis he carefully examined all the inscriptions which those wonderful ruins still retain. Those which had already been published, he accurately compared with the original monuments, and the remainder he copied entire. This gentleman went thoroughly furnished with all the preparatory knowledge that could be gained in Europe to ensure success. He had shown himself by his publications to be an excellent Sanscrit scholar; besides which he had acquired as complete a knowledge of the Zend language as it is possible to do at present, and was well acquainted with all that had been effected in the way of decyphering the inscriptions. Having thus so greatly the advantage of his predecessors, Niebuhr, Ker Porter, and Rich, it is not to be wondered at that his transcripts are proportionably more accurate and complete. It has long been known that all the inscriptions at Persepolis are triple, like those on the Behistun tablets, before described. Those of the first or simplest variety, have all been translated by Professor Lassen,[82] to whom Professor Westergaard transmitted them. Accompanying his translations are critical and explanatory remarks, proving conclusively the correctness of his version. The inscriptions at and near Persepolis, relate to Xerxes. They do not possess the historical value that the tablets of his father do on the rocks of Behistun, but consist of praises of Ormuzd for blessings he had received, and of himself for the additions he made to the royal palace at Persepolis. The following is a translation of an inscription on the wall of an immense portal at Nakshi Regib, two miles from Persepolis.[83] "Ormuzd (is) the great God. He created this earth; he created the heavens; he created mortals; he created the fortune of mortals. He made king Xerxes the only king of many, the only emperor of many. "I Xerxes (am) the great king, the king of kings, the king of realms inhabited by many nations; the sustainer, the author of this great land; the son of king Darius, the Achæmenide. "I (am) the noble Xerxes, the great king. By the will of Ormuzd, I have built this portal to be entered by the people. Let the Persians abide, let them congregate under this portal, and in this palace--the palace which my father built for abiding in. By the will of Ormuzd we built them. "I (am) the noble king Xerxes. Protect me O Ormuzd; and also this kingdom, and this my palace, and my father's palace protect, O admirable Ormuzd." No inscriptions have yet been found in Persia of Artaxerxes, the first son of Xerxes. A vase, however, was discovered at Venice by Sir J.G. Wilkinson, bearing an inscription in hieroglyphics, and in the three species of arrow-headed characters so common in Persia. This vase and its inscriptions have been examined by M. Letronne and M. Longpérier, who do not hesitate to ascribe it to Artaxerxes the first, or Longimanus, whose names and titles have been made out both in the hieroglyphics and cuneiform characters.[84] An inscription of great historical interest of Artaxerxes the third, has been found at Persepolis.[85] It is in only one species of the Achæmenian writing, and is noticed by Prof. Westergaard as exhibiting "a most remarkable change and decay which the language must have undergone in the interval between the reigns of Xerxes and this monarch." In a philological point of view, this fact is interesting as showing so early a decline of the Persian language. But the most important part of this inscription consists of the genealogy of Artaxerxes the third, from Arsama, the Greek Arsames, the father of Hystaspes, completely agreeing with that given by Grecian historians. In this as well as in all the other inscriptions thus far decyphered, Ormuzd is invariably invoked; he is called upon to aid them, and the several sovereigns acknowledge their gratitude to him as to an all-protecting Providence for the blessings received. NINEVEH. We have received from M. Mohl, of Paris, an account of the researches of MM. Botta and Flandin,[86] on or near the site of ancient Nineveh. This volume contains letters from M. Botta, giving the details of his discoveries, accompanied by fifty-five plates of sculptures, statues, and inscriptions. He penetrated into the interior of a large mound, where he found a series of halls and chambers, the walls of which were covered with paintings and relievos representing historical events, and scenes illustrating the manners and customs of the Assyrians. The drawings and sculptures exhibit a higher state of art than the monuments of Egypt. The figures are remarkably well drawn, both as it regards the anatomy and the costumes. The men appear to be more athletic than the Egyptians--they wear long hair combed smooth over the top of the head, and curled behind. The beard is also long and always curled. Their dresses are exceedingly rich and profuse in ornaments and trimmings. Ear-rings, bracelets, and armlets, of various forms and elaborately wrought, are seen on most of the figures both of the men and women. The discoveries made by M. Botta have induced others to explore the ground in that vicinity. An English traveller, Mr. Layard, has recently opened a mound many times larger than that excavated by the French. "It contains the remains of a palace, a part of which, like that at Khorsabad, appears to have been burnt. There is a vast series of chambers, all built with marble, and covered with sculptures and inscriptions. The inscriptions are in the cuneiform character, of the class usually termed Babylonian. It is possible that this edifice was built at an epoch prior to the overthrow of the Assyrian Empire by the Medes and Babylonians under Cyaxares. Many of the sculptures discovered by Mr. Layard are, even in the smallest details, as sharp and fresh as though they had been chiselled yesterday. Among them is a pair of winged lions with human heads, about twelve feet high. They form the entrance to a temple. The execution of these figures is admirable, and gives the highest idea of the knowledge and civilization of the Assyrians. There are many monsters of this kind, lions and bulls. The other reliefs consist of various divinities, some with eagles' heads--others entirely human but winged--with battle-pieces and sieges."[87] Other letters from Mr. Layard of a later date than that just mentioned, announce new discoveries. "Another mine has been opened at Nimroud; and every stroke of the pick-axe brings new wonders to light." Old Nineveh, whose very existence had become little better than a vague historic dream, is astonishing the world by her buildings her sculptures, and her many thousands of inscriptions, which have been brought to light by the explorations of Mr. Layard.[88] "He has opened fourteen chambers and uncovered two hundred and fifty sculptured slabs. The grand entrance previously described led him into a hall above two hundred and fifty feet long and thirty broad--entirely built of slabs of marble covered with sculptures. The side walls are ornamented with bas-reliefs of the highest interest--battles, sieges, lion-hunts, &c.; many of them in the finest state of preservation, and all executed with extraordinary spirit. They afford a complete history of the military art of the Assyrians; and prove their intimate knowledge of many of those machines of war, whose invention is attributed to the Greeks and Romans--such as the battering ram, the tower moving on wheels, the catapult, &c. Nothing can exceed the beauty and elegance of the forms of various arms, swords, daggers, bows, spears, &c. In this great hall are several entrances, each formed by winged lions, or winged bulls.[89] These lead to other chambers; which again branch off into a hundred ramifications. Every chamber is built of marble slabs covered with sculptures or inscriptions." The excavations thus far only extend to one corner of a great mound, the largest on the plain, measuring about one thousand eight hundred feet by nine hundred. The wonders that may be brought to light from a more complete survey of this vast heap of ruins, will be looked forward to with intense interest. All are familiar with the accounts of the building of this city by Asshur, (whence the name Assyria), and of the first empire under Nimrod. In this short record we have the first traces of political institutions and of great cities. They burst upon us, and as suddenly disappear from the world's history for more than a thousand years. A learned author of the last century[90] has endeavored to throw distrust on all that the Greek writers have written about these countries, because in the Persian historians he could not recognise the great Cyrus and other prominent characters which fill important places in the Grecian annals. But the revelations already made through the arrow-headed inscriptions must remove these doubts, as they substantiate in a remarkable degree the assertions of the Greek writers. The observations of a learned Orientalist are so well adapted to this subject that I cannot forbear quoting them. "The formation of mighty and civilized states being admitted even by our strictest chronologers to have taken place at least twenty-five centuries before our era, it can but appear extraordinary, even after taking into account violent revolutions, that of so multitudinous and great existences, only such scanty documents have come down to us. But, strange to say, whenever a testimony has escaped the destruction of time, instead of being greeted with a benevolent though discerning curiosity, the unexpected stranger is approached with mistrustful scrutiny, his voice is stifled with severe rebuke, his credentials discarded with scorn, and by a predetermined and stubborn condemnation, resuscitating antiquity is repelled into the tomb of oblivion."[91] A journey of much interest was undertaken by Dr. Robert in 18_3, who was directed by the French government to continue, in the west of the Himalaya range and the high region adjacent, the geographical, physical, and ethnographical observations which had been begun by M. Jaquemont. The latest accounts from this intrepid traveller left him in the inaccessible valleys of Chinese Tartary, from whence it was his intention to pass through Turkestan, for the purpose of entering China on the north.[92] In the same distant region we hear of the journeys of H.R.H. Prince Waldemar, of Prussia (cousin to the king). "Consulting only his ardor for science, and burthened with the usual load carried by a traveller on foot, he scaled the lofty Himmalayah, crossed the frontier of the Celestial Empire, and reached the table-land of Thibet."[93] The prince has already transmitted a large collection of objects of natural history, many of which are new, to Berlin. It is his intention to return to Europe by way of Affghanistan, Persia, and Asia Minor. The following list embraces the late works on Assyria and Persia, as well as those relating to the arrow-head inscriptions. The Persian Cuneiform Inscriptions at Behistun, decyphered and translated; with a Memoir on Persian cuneiform inscriptions in general, and on that of Behistun in particular, by Major H.C. Rawlinson, 8vo., in the journal of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. 10. London, 1846. On the Decyphering of the second Achæmenian or Median species of Arrow-headed Writing; by N.L. Westergaard, 8vo., in the Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaires du Nord. Copenhagen, 1844. Lettres de M. Botta sur les Découvertes à Khorsabad, près de Ninive, publiées par M.J. Mohl, 8vo., with 56 plates. Paris, 1845. Essai sur la Numismatique des Satrapies et de la Phénicie, sous les rois Achæmenides, par H. de Luynes, 4to. Paris, 1846. The Manual, Formation and early Origin of the Hebrew letters and points, demonstrated and explained; also an Elucidation of the so-called Arrow-headed or Cuneiform characters. 8vo. London, 1847. Essai de Déchiffrement de l'Écriture Assyrienne pour servir à l'explication du Monument de Khorsabad. Par J. Löwenstern. 8vo. Paris, 1846. Die Grabscrift des Darius zu Nakschi Rustum erläutert. Von F. Hitzig. Zurich, 8vo. 1846. Remarks on the Wedge Inscription recently discovered on the upper Euphrates by the Prussian engineer, Capt. Von Mülbach. Being a commentary on certain fundamental principles in the art of decyphering the "cuneatic" characters of the ancient Assyrians, by G.F. Grotefend. 8vo. In the papers of the Syro-Egyptian Society. Vol. I. London, 1845. Voyage en Perse. de MM. Eugene Flandin et P. Coste. Recueil d'Architecture ancienne, Bas reliefs, inscriptions cuneiformes et Pehlvis, plans topographiques et vues pittoresques. Folio. 250 plates and text. This magnificent work, the result of an expedition sent out by order of the French government, under the directions of the Institute, and now published by a commission of savans, consisting of Messrs Burnouf, Le Bas, and Leclerc, is in the course of publication. It will unquestionably be the most complete work ever published on this interesting country and will include the antiquities of Babylon and Nineveh. G.F. Grotefend, Neue Beiträge zur Erläuterung der Persopolitanischen Keilschrift, nebst einem Anhange über die Vollkommenheit der ersten Art-derselben. Hanover, 1837. G.F. Grotefend, Neue Beiträge zur Erläuterung der Babylonischen Keilschrift, nebst einem Anhange über die Beschaffensheit des ältesten Schriftdruck. Hanover, 1840. The valuable Oriental Journal edited by Prof. Lassen, entitled "Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes," contains many papers of great interest on these subjects. SIBERIA. To the love of science which the enlightened Emperor of Russia, has always manifested, we are indebted for an expedition, the most successful which has yet been undertaken for the exploration of the northern and eastern parts of Siberia. The results of this extensive exploration of a region not before examined by scientific men, are of the greatest interest to science, and have earned for its distinguished and undaunted leader, Prof. Von Middendorff, the applause of the savans of Europe. Not having seen any detailed account of this journey, I am indebted to Sir R. Murchison for some particulars of its results.[94] The expedition traversed the whole extent of Siberia, from east to west, and from south to north, even to the extreme northern headland of Taimyr. "Undaunted by the severe privations he had undergone in obtaining his knowledge of the far northern lands of Siberia, he next undertook the not less arduous task of traversing the whole of that vast continent to the Shantar Isles, at its southeastern extremity, and thence to return to Nertchinsk, along the Chinese frontier. His journey through thickly-wooded rocks, deep morasses and over swollen rivers, was so successfully accomplished, that the stores he has brought back to St. Petersburgh, will fully lay open the Fauna and Flora of a region never previously explored by a man of science." "Floating down the sea of Okotsk from Udskoi in frail canoes, M. Middendorff and his friends, braving shoals of floating ice and perpetual rains, reached Nitka on the great Shantar island. The wild regions which were traversed, in many parts could only be threaded by _following the tracks formed by bears beneath the dense matting of underwood and birch trees_" In his return journey, he examined the frontier line of China, a tract never explored even by a Cossack, and ascertained that between the Udskoi of the Russians and the mouth of the Amur, there is a considerable tract quite independent both of Russia and China, and occupied by a people called Guilaiques, who pay no tribute to either Emperor. In addition to the several arduous journeys performed by this intrepid traveller and his companions, many questions hitherto unsolved were investigated and much new light added to our previous knowledge on these respective points. One was the real state of the question of the frozen subsoil of Siberia. "By placing thermometers at various depths in the shaft at Yakutsk, he has found that at its bottom, or at 382 feet below the surface, the cold is 2° 4´´ Réaumur, and that it is probable the frozen subsoil reaches to the great depth of about 600 feet! Notwithstanding this extraordinary phenomenon, the lateral extent of which has still to be determined, it appears that the culture of rye succeeds perfectly under favorable local conditions in those regions, and that the crops of grain are more abundant than in Livonia!" M. Middendorff has also thrown new light on the boreal range of vegetation. He has ascertained "that whilst rye, turnips, beets, and potatoes grow on the Yenisei to latitude 61° 40´, indigenous plants, requiring less warmth, flourish much farther north, and that even trees with vertical stems reach to about 72° north latitude, in that parallel of longitude!" This fact will show that geographers can no longer mark the limit of vegetation by a rectilinear zone, but must accommodate such line to climatological and local conditions. In regard to the mammoths, the fossil bones of which have been found in Siberia, M. Middendorff has shown that, in accordance with the views of Professor Owen, (who states that these quadrupeds were specially organized to live on the branches and leaves of such shrubs and trees as grow in boreal latitudes) there are still trees in latitude 72° which would suffice for their sustenance. The Ethnology of this region has been elucidated by our traveller, who by investigating the languages and physical characteristics of these remote tribes, has been enabled to affiliate them with their parent stocks. Our knowledge of the geology and geography of the northern and southeastern extremities of Siberia have been greatly extended by this journey; in fact no enquiry for the advancement of science and a knowledge of this far distant and hitherto unknown region, seems to have been neglected.[95] Another scientific expedition of an Ethnological character is employed in Siberia under the direction of M. Castren, who has devoted much of his first report to the geography of the country. After speaking of the river Irtisch and its fisheries, he gives some account of the Ostiaks, the most ancient people of its banks. Surrounded by Russians and Tartars, they have lost all their nationality except their language. The Tartar influence is feeble, but that of Russia is felt in their religion, their manners, their customs and even in their general mode of thinking. A paper containing "Ethnological Notes on Siberia," by Prof. Von Middendorff, was read at the late meeting of the British Association for the advancement of science. "In this paper, the geographical boundaries of the different tribes were set forth, the tribes were enumerated and some of the characteristic peculiarities described. The 1st, was the Ostiaks; these were stated to be of Finnish origin, on both physiological and philological evidence. 2d, the Samoiedes, who were of Mongol descent. 3rd, the Tunguses. 4th, the Yakuts; the extent to which Mongol features were found in a nation speaking a language akin to Turkish, was insisted on. 5th, the Yukagins; the physical peculiarities of which placed them along with the Samoiedes. 6th, the Ainos; these were the inhabitants of the Kinule islands at the mouth of the Arnus; of these there were two types, the Finnish and the Japanese. 7th, the Kachkell; these were only known through the Ainos." A geographical Society has lately been founded at St. Petersburg, to which the emperor proposed to give ten thousand silver rubles annually. The first great exploratory expedition under the directions and patronage of this Society will be directed along the eastern flank of the Ural mountains, from the parallel of 60° north (Bogoslafsk) to the Glacial sea. This survey is to be conducted by Count A. Von Keyserling, already known to the public through his valuable geological co-operation in the work on Russia, by Sir R.I. Murchison; and who by his sound acquirements in geology, zoology and geography, will it is presumed, during the ensuing three years, throw great additional light on the wild Arctic Ural which separates Europe from Asia, and which, inhabited by Ostiaks and Samoiedes, extends beyond the limits of arboreal vegetation. Among numerous other objects, it is hoped that this expedition will elicit new results concerning the entombment and preservation of the mammoths.[96] INDIA. The obstacles which have existed in India, and which have retarded the extension of European civilization, will now be effectually removed by the noble step taken by Lord Hardinge, the Governor General, for promoting education in that country.[97] This benevolent and excellent man, whose well earned laurels on the field of battle are not more honorable than his philanthropic efforts in extending education among the natives of India, and in improving their social condition, "has directed the Council of Education and other authorities charged with the duty of superintending public instruction throughout the provinces subject to the government of Bengal, to submit returns of the students who may be fitted according to their degrees of merit and capacity, for such of the various public offices, as with reference to their age, abilities and other circumstances, they may be deemed qualified to fill." As this order recognizes no distinction of schools, or castes, or religion, it will have a great influence on the people, towards inducing them to give their children the benefit of a good education, which to a great extent must be obtained through the Christian missionaries. "It is," says the Friend of India, "the most powerful impulse which the cause of education has received during the last twenty-five years. It makes the seminaries the nursery of the service, and the service the stimulant of the seminaries. It introduces the enlightened principles adopted by European governments, of recruiting the public service in every department from those who have earned distinctions in the public schools. At the same time it will be found instrumental in the highest degree in the general elevation of the country. It will transplant into the interior that European knowledge and science which has hitherto been confined to Calcutta, and diffuse their influence through every district." The renunciation of idolatry must necessarily follow the first steps in this great work of reform, and we already see it noticed that in southern India, within the short period of three months, eight hundred and thirty-two persons renounced idolatry and embraced Christianity. This large number was a part of the population of seven villages.[98] Such changes are not without their effects on the great mass of the natives, indeed it is only by removing from their minds the gross superstition in which they have been for ages immersed, that there can be a hope of improving their social condition. The wealthy Hindoos cling to their ancient religion with greater tenacity as it totters towards its downfall, than when in its most flourishing state. Alarmed at the innovations which European civilization and Christianity have made, they are printing by subscription, a series of popular religious books in monthly numbers, on their doctrines, rites, superstitions and idolatry. Fearing that the Europeans and such as have been taught to observe these things with ridicule, might controvert them, they have confined the subscription to Hindoos, and have directed that their books shall be rigidly kept from the hands of Christians. The Mahommedans too, in Bengal, are greatly alarmed at the danger to which their religion is exposed. They have prepared tracts and books in opposition to Christianity, and have sent, or are sending emissaries in every direction, with a view to strengthen the tottering cause of their false prophet.[99] A Mahommedan merchant in Bombay has printed at his own expense, two thousand copies of the Koran for gratuitous distribution, at a cost of several thousand dollars. In former times the efforts of the missionaries were directed to proselyting among the Hindoos and other idolaters of the East, without first making themselves acquainted with the fabric which they were laboring so earnestly to demolish. Nursed and educated as the natives were in the doctrines and superstitions which for ages their forefathers had venerated and professed, the efforts of the missionaries and of others who labored to improve their condition were unattended with success--and a conflict between Oriental and European civilization--between Hindooism and Christianity--between the false science of the shastres and the enlightenment of Europe, for a long time existed; and it seemed doubtful whether truth or falsehood would triumph. Now, the system is changed, and a course is pursued which bids fair to produce the most wonderful effects on the people of India and China. It has been asserted that the missionary enterprise in India was a failure, and did not warrant the large sums expended there. Those who are unfriendly to the cause do not see that more than half the amount there expended was for educating the people, for improving their social condition, for translating valuable books into their various languages and for establishing among them that mighty engine of civilization and reform, the printing press.[100] But it is not merely in the translation and distribution of these books, that the missionaries have rendered so much service. In this labor it is true they have contributed greatly towards disseminating Christian truth and useful knowledge among a large class of people, and have improved their religious, their moral and their social condition. But to Europe and to the learned world they have also furnished a vast deal of philological knowledge, elucidating and developing languages scarcely known beyond the precincts of the several countries in which they were spoken. Many of these languages, too, were previously unwritten; and from this rude state the missionaries have trained and moulded them into forms adapted to written speech. While speaking of the labors of the missionaries in the East, I should do great injustice to Catholics not to speak of their efforts to improve the moral and religious condition of the people in these distant countries. In the most barbarous and secluded portions of the earth do we find these devoted men diligently laboring to elevate the condition of the natives. In many do we see a zeal and devotedness, an endurance of hardships, of the most severe privations, and often martyrdom itself, which has never been surpassed in the annals of missionary enterprise. Neither François Xavier, nor Ignatius Loyola, so famous among the pioneers of the Eastern missions, ever exhibited a greater zeal or devotedness than we now witness among the Catholic missionaries in Thibet, China, Corea, the islands of the Eastern Archipelago and Oceanica. They too have added much to our stock of knowledge of the inhabitants, their manners and customs, and their languages. Their narratives give us particular accounts of the productions of the countries in which they reside, their trade, commerce, and all that interests us. SIAM. An interesting fact connected with the progress of European civilization, and the extension of Christianity in the kingdom of Siam, seems deserving of notice in this place. It was communicated by the American Mission in that country. "The king of Siam despatched one of his ships to Ceylon about the close of last year, to carry back some Ceylonese Boodhists whom he had invited to Siam, two or three years before, and also to send a fresh ecclesiastical embassy to that island--regarded by all Boodhists as very sacred--to make further religious researches in the primitive nursery of their faith. That embassy fulfilled its mission, and returned to Siam in June, bringing a letter to his Majesty from a high priest of Boodh in Ceylon, written in English, and stating in substance, that the religion of Boodh had become almost extinct in Ceylon, chiefly through the influence of the Christian religion, and the schools and seminaries of the missionaries and English residents in that part of the world; and that, if some aid from abroad could not be obtained to prop up crumbling Boodhism in that island, it must soon become utterly extinct. The writer expressed much pain at the thought, that the very birth place of his religion should not have some permanent witness of it; and requested that his Majesty, in his pious zeal for Boodhism, would send him funds, with which he might build a _Wat_ (Religious house) and support priests in honor of his god. He suggested that this would be a noble work for a great king, and one that would confer upon him the highest honors of Boodhism."[101] The following list embraces the recent works on India. Travels in the Kashmir and the Punjab; containing a particular account of the Sikhs. From the German of Baron Hugel, with notes by Major Jervis, royal 8vo. London, 1846. The Punjaub; being a brief account of the country of the Sikhs, its extent, history, commerce, productions, religion, &c., to the recent campaign of the Sutelege. By Lt. Col. Steinbach, post, 8vo. London, 1846. A Peep into Turkistan; by Capt. R. Burslem, 8vo. London, 1846. Travels in the Punjab, Affghanistan and Turkistan, to Balk, Bokhara and Herat, by Mohan Lal, 8vo. London, 1846. History of the Punjab, and of the rise, progress and present condition of the Sikhs, 2 vols. post, 8vo. London, 1846. The history of the Sikhs, with a personal narrative of the war between the British and the Sikhs. By W.L. McGregor, 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1847. The Sikhs and Affghans, immediately before and after the death of Runjeet Singh. By Shahamat Ali, post, 8vo. London, 1847. The Hindoo Castes; or history, manners and customs of the 42 castes or sects of the Brahmins of British India, with highly colored plates: By E.A. Rodriguez, 24 numbers. COCHIN-CHINA, CHINA, MANCHURIA, COREA, AND JAPAN. COCHIN-CHINA. M. Hedde has published a few notices of a visit to Turon in Annam in 1844, on his passage from Singapore to Macao.[102] He represents the country as altogether in a wretched, declining condition, misgoverned and beggared by despotic officers, presenting a painful contrast in its general prosperity with the Chinese empire. The present monarch is named Thieufri (or Yuen-fuh-siuen in Chinese) and succeeded his father Ming-ming or Minh-menh in 1841, but no improvement in the domestic or foreign administration of the government has taken place. Several Cochin-Chinese youth have been educated at Singapore, and the king purchased two steamers several years ago from the Dutch, but the natives probably were too little acquainted with the machinery and motive power to make the least use of them, as nothing has since been heard of them. The country is highly favored by its natural advantages and navigable rivers for maintaining a large population, but oppression on the part of the rulers and ignorance among the people, vitiate the sources of national prosperity. The port of Turon alone, is open in Annam for foreign trade, but no American vessels have been there for a cargo since Lieut. White's unsuccessful voyage in the Franklin in 1804. Capt. Percival of the U.S. ship Constitution anchored there in May, 1845, but no official account of his visit has been published, which if the rumors of his firing upon the town are true, is not strange. The Peacock and Enterprize also anchored there in 1836, but Mr. Roberts, the American diplomatic agent, was too ill to have any communications with the authorities. CHINA. The late war between England and China has directed the attention of other nations towards that empire in an unusual degree. Except the immediate details of the contest and the personal incidents connected with it, however, the works of those officers who have written upon that war, have not contained so much information as was expected by some, but quite as much as could be collected under the circumstances. The war was almost wholly a maritime one, confined to attacks upon cities and forts upon the coast and rivers, by both the army and navy, and few or none of the officers were acquainted with the language of the people, so that little information could be obtained from those natives whom suspicion or terror did not drive away. The region around Ningpo, Chusan and the mouth of the Yangtsz kiang, has been described with more minuteness than any other part of the maritime provinces; and the careful survey of the coast from Amoy to Shanghai, with the Chusan and Pescadore archipelagoes by Captains Collinson, and Kellet and others, has left little to be done for the navigator's benefit, in making known the hydrography of this part of China. The general topography of China is, however, but little better known now than it was at the close of the general survey of the Jesuits in 1714, and their maps form the basis of the best extant. The embassy sent by the French government in 1844, under M. Th. de Lagrené, to form a commercial treaty with China, was furnished on a most liberal scale with everything necessary to make the greatest improvement of the opportunities offered to examine into the mechanical arts and productions of the land. Four gentlemen were attached to the ambassador's suite, to make inquiries into the various agricultural and mechanical arts of the Chinese, one of whom, M. Isidore Hedde, was especially designated to investigate everything relating to the growth and preparation of silk. In pursuance of this object, he visited the city of Tuchan fu, which lies a few miles northwest of Shanghai, and is the capital of the province of Kiangsu. This place is probably the second or third city in the empire, Canton or Hangchau fu being the only ones which can compete with it for wealth and beautiful manufactures. It lies in a highly cultivated region, and is connected with Peking and other large places, through the Grand canal and the Yangtsz kiang. M. Hedde went in a Chinese dress, and succeeded in visiting the principal buildings in the city, such as the provincial mint, the hall of examination, an establishment for the education of unhappy females destined for sale for the amusement of the opulent, and some manufactories. The suburbs of Suchau, as is the case with most Chinese cities, exceed that part within the walls, and here he found most of the craftsmen in iron, ivory, gold, silver, wood, bone, horn, glass, earth, paper, cotton and silk. His errand being chiefly to examine the silken fabrics, he noticed whatever was peculiar in spinning, dyeing and weaving, in the shops he entered. The Chinese have no such immense establishments as are found in this country, where large buildings accommodate an immense quantity of machinery and numerous workmen, but all their products are made by manual labor in small establishments. M. Hedde was struck with the immense population of the city and its environs, including a floating suburb of great extent, the whole comprising a population of not far from two millions. The Chinese census gives an average of over nine hundred souls to a square mile in the province of Kiangsu, and every opportunity which has been offered for examining it, has added new evidence to the truth of this statement, though closer investigation and further travel is necessary before we can give implicit reliance to the assertions made on this subject. Two English missionaries have lately gone long journeys into the interior, but as Protestants have no coadjutors among the people away from the ports, who would be willing to receive and conceal them; and as their system of operations aims rather to impart a true knowledge of Christianity than to make many converts to a form of worship, these excursions have not been frequently made. One of the two here referred to, was across the country from Ningpo to Canton, by the same route Lord Macartney came, and the other was up the Yangtsz kiang. Two American missionaries visited the large city of Changchau fu near Amoy in 1844, where they were received with civility though not with kindness. Mr. Robert Fortune, sent out to China by the Horticultural Society, has lately returned to England, with new plants of great beauty, and a large collection of botanical and ornithological specimens, among which are doubtless many not heretofore described. Mr. Fortune visited all the ports, and made excursions in their neighborhoods, and his reception among the people was generally kind. The people in the cities of Ningpo and Shanghai, and their vicinities, compare favorably for their kindness and general courtesy, with the coarse mannered natives of Canton. The opening of this great empire to the commercial enterprise of western nations, has given rise to anticipations of an extensive trade, and the importation of cotton and woolen fabrics during the last few years has been increasing; and if it was not for the abominable traffic in opium, which is both impoverishing and destroying the Chinese, there would be every reason for believing the commerce with China would soon be one of the largest branches of trade. The principal articles in which it is most likely to increase are tea and silk, but there is a great assortment of other productions, which can be taken in exchange for the cloths, metals and wares of the west. Mr. Montgomery Martin for a short time colonial treasurer of Hongkong, has collected all the statistics bearing on this subject in his work, which will aid in forming an opinion on this point. Commercially, politically and religiously, the Chinese empire now presents a most interesting spectacle, and the experiment of regenerating it and introducing it into the family of nations, without completely disorganizing its present form of government and society, will constantly go on and attract still more and more the notice of Christendom. The probabilities at present are in favor of a successful issue, but it is impossible to contemplate the desolating effects of the use of opium, brought to the people in such quantities, without great apprehension as to the result. The lava like progress of the power of Great Britain in Asia, has just commenced on the borders of China, and when the country is drained of specie in payment for this drug, there is reason to fear that the native government will be unable to carry on its operations and maintain its authority. COREA. Since the extermination of the Catholic priests from Corea in 1839, the most rigid measures have been adopted to exclude all foreigners; in fact, the determination on the part of the government of Corea to prevent all intercourse between its people and those of other countries seems to have been adopted from its neighbor of Japan. These measures are even extended to the Chinese, against whom a strong natural antipathy exists, growing out of the persecutions formerly inflicted on the Coreans by them. Accurate descriptions of Europeans are kept at the various posts on the frontier, and from their well known characteristics they are easily distinguished. The Coreans themselves on leaving their country for China for purposes of trade, receive a passport, which on returning must be given back or they are not permitted to enter. Many Christians still remain in Corea, and though they are subject to persecution, the minds of the people are well disposed towards the Christian religion. The literary class hold it in the highest estimation, and seem only to be waiting for the moment when they will be free to declare in its favor.[103] Farther accounts from this country have lately appeared in the Annals of the Propaganda Society,[104] in a letter from Keemay Kim a native of Corea, and a Christian, who had just completed his studies at Macao in China. He was sent on a mission to the Christians in Corea, but owing to the vigilance observed on the frontiers of that country, was unable to enter it. Determined to persevere in the attempt, he posted on to Hoong-tchoong, a small frontier town near the mouth of a river which separates Corea from Manchuria, where he waited until the period arrived when the great fair was to take place at Kee-eu-Wen, the nearest town in Corea, four leagues distant. "They supply the Coreans with dogs, cats, pipes, leather, stag's horns, copper, horses, mules and asses; and receive in exchange, baskets, kitchen utensils, rice, corn, swine, paper, mats, oxen, furs and small horses." A few officers are permitted to trade every year, but they are closely guarded. All others who pass the frontier are made slaves or massacred at once. Our traveller here met a few Corean Christians in the immense crowd which had come to traffic, and whom he recognised by a badge previously agreed upon; but so great was the confusion and hurry on the occasion, added to the fear of being recognized, that the interview does not seem to have been productive of good, or increased our information of the people or country. Since the great persecution a few years since, the church had been at rest; and though a few converts had been made, the faithful had retired to the southern provinces for better security. They still entertained the idea of introducing a European missionary through the north, though with the knowledge that if discovered by the authorities, instant death would follow. Such is the zeal and perseverance with which these men pursue their philanthropic and Christian labors. The fair to which allusion has been made, is thus described by our Corean. The traders cannot begin their operations until a signal is given, by hoisting a flag and beating the gong, "when the immense and densely packed crowd rush to the market place; Coreans, Chinese, and Manchus, are all mingled together. Each speaks in his own tongue, and so great is the uproar produced by this mass of people, that the echoes of the neighboring mountains repeat their discordant shouts." "Four or five hours is the whole time allowed for buying and selling; consequently, the tumult which takes place, the quarrels which arise, the blows which are exchanged, and the plundering which goes on, give the place more the look of a city taken by storm and given up to pillage, than that of a fair." At evening, when the signal is given, the strangers are driven out by the soldiers with the points of their lances. MANCHURIA. The vast regions of Manchuria, lying north of Corea to the Hing-an or Yablonoi mountains, and east of the Sialkoi to the ocean, are inhabited by various tribes speaking different dialects and subsisting principally by hunting and fishing. The Manchus are now the dominant race, but some of the tribes near the sea and in Taraka island, bear no tributary relations to them, if indeed they are much acquainted. Since the conquest of China, the Manchus have gone on steadily improving this part of their possessions by stationing agricultural troops at the principal ports of observation, and collecting the hunters around these points as much as possible. Criminals are also constantly banished there, who carry with them their arts, and by their industry both maintain themselves and set an example to the nomads. The southern part called Shingking, has become well cultivated in many parts, and considerable trade is carried on at Kinchau with other parts of China. Manchuria produces pulse, maize, (Indian corn), millet, barley and buckwheat; pulse, drugs and cattle, form the leading articles of trade. The climate of this country is so inhospitable, as to prove a serious obstacle in the way of its settlement and cultivation. The Manchus have no national literature; all the books written in their language are translations of Chinese works, made under the superintendence of the Academies at Moukden and Peking. Their written characters are derived from the Mongols, but have undergone many changes. The emperors have taken great pains to elevate their countrymen by providing them with the best books in Chinese literature, and compelling them to go through the same examinations before they can attain any office; but the numerical superiority of the Chinese and their active habits, give them so much the advantage, that except in their own country, the Manchus find it difficult to preserve their native tongue to the second generation. MONGOLIA. The last volume of the Annals of the Propaganda Society contains an interesting narrative of a journey into Mongolia, by the Rev. Mr. Huc.[105] This vast country, covering a million of square miles, consists of barren deserts and boundless steppes. In the limits allotted each corps, there is seldom more than one town, where the chief resides. The people live in tents, without any permanent residence. They move from place to place, with the changes of the seasons, or when their immense herds of oxen, camels and horses have exhausted the grass around their encampment. To-day presents an animated scene of hundreds of tents, filled with an active population; the children playing as happy and contented as though surrounded with every luxury a civilized life affords; the women cooking their food and drawing water from a well just dug; and the men, mounted on horseback, are galloping over the plain, keeping their countless herds from straying away. To-morrow, this picturesque and animated scene will be changed to a dreary and forbidding desert. Men, flocks, and tents have vanished, and nought remains to mark the visit of this wandering race, but the curling smoke of their unquenched fires, or the birds of prey hovering over the carcase of some dying camel, or feeding on the remains of their late repast. The Mongols are irreclaimable nomads, though some tribes of them, as the Tsakhars, Ortous, and Solous, cultivate the soil. The four khanates of the Kalkas are called Outer Mongolia, and comprise within their borders, several well built towns, though none of any size, compared with the cities in China. Few Chinese have settled among the Mongols, except near the Great Wall, nor will they allow them to do so, as there is a deep antipathy between the two races. The Mongols of the present day have probably made no advances in civilization over their ancestors in the days of Genghis and Kublai. The approaches of the British power up the valley of the Sutlej, into the regions lying along the base of the western Himalayas, are such that they will ere long come in contact with Tibet through Ladak, and with Yarkand through Badakshan. But there is probably more geographical than ethnological information to be gained by traversing these elevated regions, where stupendous mountains and arid deserts offer nothing to tempt man from the fertile plains of India and China. Two Romish missionaries have lately arrived in Canton from H'lassa in Tibet, by the overland route through Patang in Sz'chuen to the capital of Kwangsi, and thence to Canton. This route has never been described by any traveller. LEWCHEW ISLANDS. This group of islands, including the Madjico sima, lying between it and Formosa, form a dependency of the principality of Satzuma, in the southwest of Japan, though the rulers are allowed a limited intercourse with China through Fuhchau fu. During the late war between England and China, the transport Indian Oak was lost on Lewchew,[106] August 14, 1840, and the crew were treated with great kindness, and provided with a vessel, in which they returned to Chusan. Every effort was made by the authorities to prevent the officers and men from examining the island, but their kindness to the unfortunate people thus cast on their shores, made such an impression, that a mission to the islanders was determined upon in London, by some naval gentlemen connected with the expedition, and a society formed. The Rev. B.J. Bettelheim was appointed to the post, and had reached Canton in March, 1846. He afterwards proceeded on his voyage, and his journal received at Hongkong, from Napa, contains a few details of interest, but shows plainly that the authorities are decided in refusing to allow foreigners to settle in their territories. An attempt has been made by the Romish missionaries to establish a mission in this group.[107] The Rev. W. Forcade and an associate were left on Lewchew in May, 1844, and after a residence of fifteen months were able to transmit some notices of their treatment to the directors, through Sir Edward Belcher, R.N. who stopped at Napa in August, 1845. On their arrival, M. Forcade and his companion were conducted to their dwelling, where they were surrounded by a numerous guard under the control of officers, and attended by domestics, as they were told, "to charm their leisure moments." Their table was bountifully supplied, and everything they could ask to make them comfortable was granted them, except their liberty. Whenever they went abroad, they were accompanied by a guard, but allowed to hold no intercourse with the natives; they had not been able to proceed beyond twelve miles into the interior, but as far as they had opportunities of conversing with the natives, found them simple and courteous in their manners, and disposed to talk when not under surveillance. It is probable, however, that under such restraint as these gentlemen were placed, it is not likely that they had attained to such fluency in the language as to be able to hold very ready communication with natives met in this hasty manner. The intentions of the government were plain, however, not to allow them to disseminate their doctrines, (if it had learned their real object), nor, by intercourse with the people, become acquainted with their character, or the state of the country. No assistance was granted them in learning the language, and they were forbidden to adopt the native costume. Notwithstanding this opposition, they had been able to acquire a partial knowledge of the language, and to compile a vocabulary of six thousand words. Permission to preach the Christian religion was not granted them, lest, as the authorities said, the Chinese, to whom they are tributary, would break off all intercourse; but the real reason was doubtless their fear of the Japanese. Yet these obstacles did not dishearten them, and they seem determined to persevere in their attempts, though it is not unlikely that when Mr. Bettelheim arrives, the authorities will take measures for deporting them all. The Lewchewans are intimately connected with the Japanese. The language is the same, with unimportant dialectical variations, and Chinese letters and literature are in like manner cultivated by both. In personal appearance, however, the two people are very unlike. The Lewchewans are not on an average over five feet four inches high, slightly built, and approach the Malayan cast of features more than the Chinese. They are darker than the Chinese, and their mild traits of character, unwarlike habits, and general personal appearance, suggests the idea that they are akin to the aborigines of Formosa and Luçonia by descent, while their proximity and subjugation to their powerful neighbors on the north and west, have taught them a higher civilization, and introduced arts and sciences unknown to their early conquerors. When Lewchew was subjugated by the Japanese, it was agreed that embassies with tribute might be sent to Peking, and according to the Chinese account, they come to that court twice in three years.[108] The secretary or deputy embassador in 1841, was drowned in his passage from Peking to Fuhchau. This embassy is a source of considerable profit to the Lewchewans, for their junks, which are built on the Chinese model, have free entrance to Fuhchau, and all the goods they import and export, are passed without duty. The travelling expenses of the embassy to and from the capital are also defrayed, and permission is given them to study Chinese when in the country. This intercourse is therefore both honorable and profitable to the Lewchewans, but the Chinese are not allowed to trade there, and the only act of sovereignty the emperor exercises, according to M. Forcade, is to send a delegate to sanction the accession of a new incumbent of the throne--whom, however, it would be ridiculous for him to refuse. He adds, "In conversation, if one is a stranger, the Lewchewans will be continually dwelling on China, they will boast about it, they will relate its history, they will describe its provinces and its cities; but Japan is never mentioned! Such are the words, but the facts are quite another thing." The real character of the connection between Lewchew and Japan is not well ascertained. No Japanese officers are seen on landing, and the officers appointed to attend the people of the Indian Oak, exhibited the greatest alarm when a few were seen at a distance, while the party were taking a walk. The trade between the two countries is confined to the ports of Napa and Kagosima, between which the vessels of both nations pass; the junks from other parts of Japan are not permitted to resort to Napa, but it is not probable that the prince of Satzuma has the right of appointing the residents, or whatever authorities are sent thither. M. Forcade says there were from ten to fifteen Japanese vessels in the port, but when the American ship Morrison was there, in 1837, there were only five. Lackered-ware, grass cloth, sugar, and earthen-ware, are exported to Kagosima, and a great assortment of metallic articles, cloths, provisions, and stationery taken in exchange. The country in the vicinity of Napa, and towards Shudi, the capital, is highly cultivated, and the people appear to be as well clothed, and possess as many of the comforts and elegancies of life as their neighbors. They still retain enough of their own customs, however, to distinguish them from the Japanese, even if their physical appearance did not point them out as distinct. M. Forcade says that there is reason for supposing Christianity to have been implanted in Lewchew at the same time it was introduced into Japan, but Lewchew at that time seems to have been much less dependant upon Japan than subsequently; and it is not probable that much was done to proselyte its inhabitants. He mentions that a cross is cut on the end of the rampart where foreigners land, who are thus obliged to trample on this symbol; but no other visitors mention any such sculpture or custom. The landing place at Napa is a long stone jetty, stretching across the beach, which at low tide, prevents boats approaching the shore. JAPAN. This country has recently attracted increased attention on the part of commercial nations, and several foreign ships have lately appeared on the coasts, whose reception has only shown the vigilance of the authorities in taking every precaution neither to offend nor receive their unwelcome visitors. The Dutch and Chinese are still the only nations allowed to trade with the Japanese, and the news brought by the latter people of the troubles they have lately gone through with their foreign customers, has probably only more strongly convinced the siogoun and his ministers of the propriety of their seclusive policy. Nor is there much reason to doubt that the Chinese and Japanese have avoided the fate of the natives of Luçonia, Java, and India, by shutting out foreigners from free access and intercourse with their people, and owing to their seclusion, have remained independent to this day. The works of Siebold upon the natural history and political condition of the country and its inhabitants, are now slowly publishing in Paris, but with such luxury of execution as to place them beyond the reach of most persons who might be desirous to examine them. The visits of two American ships to the bay of Yedo, has directed the public eye again to the empire. The first was that of the whaler Manhattan, Captain Cooper, who was led to think of going into the port by having taken eleven shipwrecked men off a small island near the Bonin islands, in April, 1845, lying southeast of Nippon. As he was going north, he fell in with a water-logged junk from Nambu, laden with rice and fish, from which he received eleven more, and soon after made the eastern coast in the principality of Simosa. Here he landed two men, and proceeding towards Cape King, landed two more, who made their way to Yedo. Owing to north winds, he was blown off the coast twice, and when he approached the estuary leading to the capital, he was taken in tow and carried up to the anchorage. Interpreters came off to the vessel, who could speak English sufficiently well to carry on an imperfect communication, who informed Captain Cooper that his wants would be supplied, but none of his company allowed to land. A triple cordon of boats was placed around the ship, consisting of upwards of a thousand small boats, displaying numerous flags, and containing as many armed men as if the country was in danger of attack. The ship was visited by crowds of natives of all ranks, who behaved with great decorum while gratifying their curiosity, but no trade was allowed. Many officers of high rank came on board and examined the ship, and took an inventory of every article belonging to the rescued seamen, before they were allowed to land. The ship was gratuitously supplied with provisions and a few spars, to the value of about $500, but the captain was again and again enjoined not to return there on any account. When he inquired what he should do if he again came across the siogoun's subjects in like distress, and exposed to a cruel death, he was told, "leave them to their fate, or take them where the Dutch can get them." The men rescued from starvation and death, were, however, deeply sensible of the kindness which had been shown them. After a stay of eight or ten days, Captain Cooper was towed out of the port, and down the bay to the coast, and the last injunction was only a repetition of the first order, not to come again. This reception, though it presents no encouragement to hope for a relaxation of the policy, deemed by the siogoun at once his safety and his profit, is less likely to call for summary chastisement than the rude repulse the American ship Morrison received in 1837, when she entered the bay of Yedo on the same errand, and was driven away by cannon balls and armed gunboats. Captain Cooper represents the country in this portion of it as clothed with verdure, and under a high state of cultivation. The proximity of the mountains in Idzu, produces constant showers, which covers the highest peaks with forests and shrubbery. Terrace cultivation is extensively practiced, and constant labor is demanded to supply subsistence to the dense population, who still at times suffer severely for want of food. The capital could not well be seen from the ship, and its enceinte was so filled with trees, that its dimensions could not accurately be defined. No towers or pagodas were seen elevating themselves above the dull monotony of the buildings. The harbor was covered with vessels, at anchor and moving about; some of them unwieldy, open-stern junks, designed for the coast trade, others light skiffs and boats, used for communicating with vessels in the harbor and the shore. The greatest part of the coasting trade centres at Yedo, owing to the large amount of taxes paid the siogoun in kind, and the supplies the princes receive from their possessions while they reside in the capital, both of which causes operate to develope the maritime skill of the people, and increase the amount of tonnage. The shortsighted policy which confines the energies and capital of a seagoing people like the Japanese, within their own shores is, however, less a matter of wonder than the despotic power which could compel them to stay at home two centuries ago, at a time when their merchants and agents were found from Acapulco to Bangkok. The Japanese empire presents the greatest feudal government now existing, and on that account is peculiarly interesting to the student of political science. In some respects, the people are superior to the Chinese, but are inferior in the elements of national wealth and progress. They belong to the Mongolian race, but are darker than the Chinese, and not as tall, though superior in stature to the Lewchewans. They approximate to the Kamtschatdales in their square build, short necks, large heads, and short lower limbs. They are of a light olive complexion, but seldom exhibit a florid, ruddy countenance. Among the articles obtained from the junk by Captain Cooper, was a map of Japan, including part of Yesso. It is four feet square, drawn on the proportion of less than one degree to two inches, and contains the names of all the places there is room for. It is cut on wood, and painted to show the outlines of the chief principalities; the relative importance of the places is shown by writing their names in different shaped cartouches, but from the space occupied by the Chinese characters, there is probably not one-tenth of all the towns inserted. The distances between the principal points along the coast are stated, and on some of the leading thoroughfares inland. The map is evidently the original of Krusenstern's "Carte de Nippon," published by the Russian Board of Longitude, and is drawn up from trigonometrical surveys. The degrees of latitude bear the same numbers as upon European maps; the meridians are reckoned from Yedo. The existence of such maps among the people indicates that a good knowledge of their own country is far more extensively diffused than among the Chinese, whose common maps are a standing reproach to them, while they have others so much more accurate. The coast from Cape King northward to Simosa, for the space of two degrees, was found by captain Cooper to be better delineated upon this map than upon his own charts. These seas present a fine field for hydrographic surveys, and it would greatly advance the security of navigation on the eastern shores of Asia, and redound to the honor of our own land, if the American government would despatch two small vessels to survey the seas and shores between Luçonia and Kamtschatka. The visit of Commodore Biddle to the bay of Yedo, has added nothing to our knowledge of its shores. His polite dismissal, and the refusal of the government to entertain any commercial relations with the Americans, only add force to the injunction to captain Cooper the year before, not to return, and shows more strongly that while the Japanese rulers are determined to maintain their secluded policy, they wish to give no cause for retaliatory measures on the part of their unwelcome visitors, and mean to keep themselves as well informed as they can upon foreign politics. The subject of foreign intercourse between the two great nations of Eastern Asia and Europeans since it commenced three centuries since, is an instructive one; and the general impression left upon the mind of the candid reader, is that foreign nations have themselves chiefly to thank for their present seclusion from those shores, and the restrictions in their commerce. Rear-Admiral Cecille has also paid a visit to some part of Japan, quite recently, but met with no success in his endeavors to enter into negotiation. The great object in view in making these attempts to improve the intercourse with Japan, is to find new markets for western manufactures. It is quite doubtful, however, whether the Japanese have many articles suitable for foreign markets. Their lackered-ware is exceedingly beautiful, but it would not be so prized when it became more common. Copper and tea would form the basis of exports, and perhaps some silk fabrics, but China furnishes now all that is wanted of them both, and can do so to any extent. Until a taste for such foreign manufactures, as woolens, cutlery, glass-ware, calicoes, &c., is created among them, and they are willing to adapt their own products to the tastes of their customers, it does not seem likely that a trade at all proportioned to the estimated population and riches of the country, would soon be established. The Japanese are afraid of the probable results of a more extended intercourse, and deem it to be the safest course to run no risks; and if they read the pages of their early intercourse with the Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch, they must feel they would run many serious risks by granting a trade. If the siogoun and his advisers could be rightly informed, however, there are grounds for believing the present policy would be considerably relaxed. Learning is highly honored in Japan, and books are as cheap and common as in China. The written language is a singular and most difficult mixture of Chinese characters, with the syllabic symbols adopted by the Japanese, rendering its perusal a great labor, more so than that of Chinese, because Chinese must first be mastered. The spoken language is polysyllabic and harmonious, and possesses conjugations, tenses, cases, &c., to facilitate its perspicuity, and increase its variety of expressions. The arts in which they chiefly excel are in the manufacture of silken and linen goods, copper-ware, lackered-ware, porcelain and basket work. Their cutlery is despicable, and the specimens of their carving, which are seen abroad, do not equal those produced by the Chinese. Agriculture is pursued on much the same system as in China--minute subdivision of the soil and constant manuring, together with frequent watering. Rice and fish are the staples of food; vegetables are used in great abundance, but meats only sparingly. The habits and sports of the people are influenced so much by the peculiar notions attending a feudal society, such as adherence to the local prince, and maintenance of his honor, wearing coats of arms, privileged orders, and hereditary titles, that there is little similarity in the state of society in Japan and China, notwithstanding a similar religion and literature. The Japanese were called the Spaniards of the East by Xavier, and the comparison is good at this day. They have, perhaps, more genius and imagination than the Chinese, but are not as peaceable or industrious. GENERAL VIEW OF THE LANGUAGES OF THE JAPANESE, COREANS, CHINESE AND COCHINCHINESE. The four nations here briefly noticed; viz., the Japanese, Coreans, Chinese and Cochinchinese, have been collectively called the _Chinese language nations_, from the peculiar relations and connections they have had through the medium of that language. The relation has throughout been one of a literary character, fostered to some extent by religious prejudices, but depending chiefly for its permanence and extension upon the superiority of the writings of the Chinese. It is, in some respects, without a parallel in the history of man. While European languages have all been indebted for many of their words to the two leading ancient tongues of that continent, their bases have been diverse, and the words they have imported from Greek and Latin have undergone various changes, so much so as sometimes hardly to be recognized. This is not the case with these four nations of eastern Asia. They have all adopted the characters used by the leading nation without alteration, and with them, of course, have to a very great degree, taken her authors, her books, her knowledge and her opinions, as their own. One of the most observable features of the national character of the Chinese, is its conservative inclinations. Not only is it seen in the actions of government and in the writings of scholars, but still more in the habits of the people and their modes of thinking. It has been cherished by that government, as it is by all governments, as a sure and safe principle of preservation, but it is also advocated by the people. The geographical position of China has isolated it from all western nations, while the political, literary and social superiority of its people over the contiguous nations, has combined to foster their conceit and affectation of supremacy, and make them disinclined to have any intimate or equal relations with others. But one of the strongest and most comprehensive of these conservative influences has arisen from the nature of the language, strengthened by the extent to which education has been diffused among the people. The language is of such a character, combining mystery and difficulty with elegance and ingenuity, as greatly to captivate a people who have time and inclination to trace out the marks and veins on the pavement in the temple of science, but not the invention or investigation to seek out and explore its hidden chambers. The character of this language and the nature of the connection between the nations who use it, may here be briefly exhibited. The Chinese ascribe the invention of their characters to Tsang Kieh, one of the principal ministers or scholars in the reign of Hwangti, about 2650 years before Christ; and although there is no very certain information recorded respecting their origin, there is nothing which seems to be fabulous or supernatural. The characters first depicted were the common objects in nature and art, as the sun, rain, man, parts of the body, animals, a house, &c., and were probably drawn sufficiently accurate to be detected without much if any explanation. They were all described in outline, and generally with far less completeness than the Egyptian symbols. It is not known how many of the primitive characters were made, but one feature attached to them all,--none of them contained any clue to the sound. The inventors must necessarily, one would suppose, have soon perceived this radical defect in their symbols, but they either saw the incompatibility of uniting the phonetic and pictorial modes, or else were so pleased with their varied pictures and symbols, that they cared very little how the reader acquired the sounds. At first, too perhaps, the number of persons who spoke this language was so small, that there was little difficulty in making them all acquainted with the meaning of the symbols, and when once their meaning was learned, they were of course called by the name of the thing represented, which everybody knew. The necessity of incorporating some clue to the sound of the thing, or idea denoted, became more and more evident, however, as the variety of the symbols multiplied, and the number of people increased. One of the strongest evidences, that the designing of these symbols was contemporary with the earliest days of the Chinese as a people, is deduced from the fact that they are all monosyllabic; the radical words in all languages are mostly of this character, but in nearly all others, the single sounds soon coalesce and combine, while in Chinese this has been prevented by the nature of the written language. There is not, so far as the nature of the case goes, any reason why the sounds of Chinese characters should all be monosyllabic, any more than the Arabic numerals. But not only was the increase of inhabitants, as we suppose, a reason for making the symbols phonetic, the need of reducing the labor of learning the ever growing list, and the difficulty of distinguishing between species of the same genus and things of the same sort, was a still stronger motive. This was done by the combination of a leading type with some other well understood character, chosen quite arbitrarily, but possessing the _same sound_ as the new object to be represented. Thus, supposing a new fish called _pih_ was to be represented by a character; by taking the symbol for _fish_ and joining it to any well known character pronounced _pih_, no matter what was its meaning, the compound symbol clearly expressed, to those who understood its elementary parts, the _fish pih_. But neither does this compound contain any more clue to its sound to those unacquainted with the component elements, than its marks and hooks do of its meaning to those who have never learned them. When once the form and meaning of the primitive symbols have been learned, however, the meaning and sounds of the compound ones can, in many cases, be inferred to a greater or less degree; but so varied has been the principle of combination, that no dependence can be placed upon such etymologies for the meaning. In the various mutations the written language has undergone, the sound is not now so certain as it was probably at first; but in the majority of characters, it can be inferred with a considerable degree of certainty, though the idea is exhibited so indefinitely as to afford almost no assistance in guessing at it. A dictionary is indispensable in ascertaining the meaning, and almost as necessary to learn the sound of all Chinese characters. The meaning can be explained without any greater trouble than in other languages, but the sounds of characters can only be given by quoting other characters of the same sound, which the scholar is supposed to know, if he knows enough to use the dictionary. These remarks will, perhaps, explain the general composition of Chinese characters. By far the greater part of them are now formed, either of the original pictorial symbols, greatly modified, indeed, and changed from their likeness to the things they stand for, or of those joined to each other in a compound character, partly symbolical and partly phonetic. The former part is called the _radical_, the latter the _primitive_. The Chinese divide the characters into six classes, viz., imitative symbols, or those original figures which bore a resemblance to the forms of material objects; indicative symbols, where the position of the two parts point out the idea; symbols combining ideas, a class not very unlike the preceding, but more complex; inverted symbols; metaphoric symbols, as that of the natural heart, denoting the affections; and lastly, phonetic symbols. Out of twenty-four thousand two hundred and thirty-five characters, (nearly all the different ones there are in the language), twenty-one thousand eight hundred and ten of them are phonetic, or as much so as the nature of their composition would allow, though there is no other clue to the sound than to learn the sound of the parts or of the whole, either from the people themselves or from a dictionary. The Chinese tyro learns the sounds of most of the characters, as boys do the names of minerals, by tradition. As he stands before his master, he and the whole class hear from his mouth their names, and repeat them until they are remembered. Consequently, almost an infinite variety in the sounds of the characters arise from this mode of learning them, while the meanings remain fixed; though there still remains enough resemblance in the sounds to show their common origin, as, _bien_, _meen_, _mien_, and _meeng_, all meaning _the face_, and written with the same character. The local differences in pronunciation are so great within a few hundred miles, in some parts of China, that the people barely understand each other when they speak; and even in two towns fifty miles apart, the local patois can be detected, though the dissimilarity is not so great as to prevent their inhabitants conversing together. For purposes of intercourse among civilians, who being from distant parts of the empire, might otherwise find considerable difficulty in making themselves understood if each spoke his own local patois, there is a court dialect which not only civilians, but all educated men are obliged or expected to understand. This is the common pronunciation over the northeastern provinces of Chihli, Shantung, Nganhwui, and Kiangsu, and somewhat in the contiguous provinces also, though everywhere in these regions with some slight local variations. This dialect is called _kwan hwa_, and has been usually termed the _mandarin[109] dialect_, but it is properly the Chinese spoken language, and the variations from it are the dialects and patois. It is evident, however, that one sound of a character is no more correct than another; for there being no sound in any character, each one calls it as he has been taught, while all give it the same meaning, exactly as Europeans do with the numerals. Of course, no one can read or write Chinese before he has studied it, and the apparent singularity of people from China, Japan, and Annam all being able to communicate by writing but not converse by speech, is easily explained by the different sounds they give the characters. It is, however, really no more singular than that scholars in all Christian nations understand each others' music and arithmetic, after they have learned those sciences and the mode of notation. The diversity of pronunciations tends naturally to break up the nation into small communities, and the Chinese owe their present homogeneity and grandeur in no small degree to their written language; for, however, a man may differ in his speech, he is sure that he will be everywhere understood when he writes, and will understand every one who writes to him. It has also been a bond of union from its extensive literature, at once the pride of its own scholars, and the admiration of surrounding nations. It is perhaps owing to the fact that the literature of China contains the canons of the Budhist religion and the ethics of Confucius, that it was adopted by the Japanese, Coreans and Annamese. These nations have taken the characters of the Chinese language, and given them such names as pleased them. In Japan and Corea, there has been no uniform rule of adoption, but the Annamese, who formerly had more intimate connexions with China than at present, approach much nearer to the sounds spoken by the Chinese. The nature of the relations between these three nations and China, therefore, somewhat resembles that which European nations, we may suppose, now would have towards ancient Greece and Rome, if they still existed as independent powers, and should be visited by scholars from the shores of the Baltic, whose native countries, however, had risen no higher in civilization and morals than their source. The comparison is not complete in all respects, but near enough for analogy. The Japanese have never paid tribute to China, but have been invaded by her armies, and in their turn have ravaged the eastern coasts of the continent. The isolated policy their rulers have adopted, has prevented our tracing those philological comparisons between their original language and those of Siberia or central Asia, which would elucidate its origin. The Japanese up to the time of the sixteenth daïri, named Ouzin Tenwo, had no written character, all the orders of government being proclaimed viva voce. In the year B.C. 284, this monarch sent an embassy to the southern part of Corea, to obtain learned persons who could introduce the civilization and literature of China into his dominions, and obtained Wonin, who fulfilled the royal wishes so satisfactorily, that the Japanese have since accorded him divine honors. Since his day, the Chinese characters have been employed among the Japanese. However, as the construction of the Japanese language differs materially from that of the Chinese, and as the same Chinese character has many meanings, which would be expressed by different words in the native Japanese, confusion and difficulty arose in the use of the symbolic characters. But it was not until the eighth century, that a remedy was provided by the invention of a syllabary, a middle contrivance, partaking chiefly of the nature of an alphabet but containing some traces of hieroglyphics. The characters of this syllabary were formed by taking Chinese characters, either in whole or in part, and using them phonetically, but as indivisible syllables. Consequently, every one of them contained a vowel sound, rendering the language very euphonous. The characters in this syllabary were called _katakana_, i. e. "parts of letters." There were at first forty-seven, but another was added some years after in order to express the final _n_, as _ma-mo-ra-n_, instead of _ma-mo-ra-nu_, making forty-eight, the present number. This syllabary and that invented for the Cherokees by Guess, are the only two in the world. The number of sounds has been increased from forty-eight to seventy-three, by the addition of diacritical marks to some of the syllables. This syllabary enabled the Japanese to express the sounds of their vernacular without difficulty. But the long use of the Chinese had already introduced a great number of sounds from that language into it, besides giving the people a liking for the elegant and ingenious combinations of that unwieldy medium of thought, so that the scholars in the country still cultivated the more difficult language, and wrote their books in it. The incorporation of Chinese sounds into the native Japanese, seems to have arisen from the necessity of distinguishing between the various meanings of the Chinese character, so that while the native word would express one, the original sound would express another, but the unchangeable symbol stand for both to the eye. The admiration of the Chinese characters, led in time to the invention of a second syllabary, having the same sounds but far more difficult to learn from the number of characters in it and their complicated forms. It is called _hirakana_, or "equal writing," because it is intelligible without the addition of Chinese characters; it is now the common medium of communication, in epistolary composition of all kinds, story books, and other everyday uses. There are one hundred and one characters in the _hirakana_, or nearly three modes of writing each of the forty-eight syllables, and they are run together as rapidly and far more fancifully than in our own running-hand, when that is compared with the Roman character. The characters are mostly contractions of Chinese characters used simply as phonetic symbols, without any more reference to their meaning than in the _katakana_. The more ancient of the two is now usually employed in dictionaries, by the side of Chinese characters in books to explain them to the reader, or at their bottom to indicate the case of the word. In reading a Chinese book, a good Japanese scholar makes a kind of running translation into his own vernacular, sometimes giving the sound, and sometimes giving the sense, and the _katakana_ is used in the latter case, to indicate the tense, or case of the native word. Having the Chinese language as well as its native stores to draw from, the Japanese is both copious and flexible, and by its syllabic construction, also euphonious and mellifluous, in these respects being far superior to the Chinese. The following stanza is from one of the Dutch writers; it is written with thirty-one syllables. Kokorodani makotono, Michi ni kanai naba, Inorazu totemo kamiya Mamoran. There are still two other syllabaries, one called _Manyo-kana_, and the other _Yamato-kana_, both of which are formed of still more complicated Chinese characters, also used phonetically. Neither of these syllabaries is generally used entirely alone, but the three are joined together or interchanged somewhat according to the fancy of the writer, in a manner similar to Archdeacon Wrangham's famous echo poem. Such a complicated mode of writing has this unfortunate result, however, of so seriously obstructing the avenues to the temple of science, that the greatest part of the common people are unable to enter, and must be content with admiring the structure afar off. Most of them content themselves with learning to write and read in the _hirakana_, and get as much knowledge of Chinese as will enable them to read the names of places, signs, people, &c., for which those characters are universally used. Besides the phonetic use of Chinese characters in these syllabaries, they are employed very extensively as words, with their own meanings, partly because they are more nervous and expressive in the estimation of the writer than the vernacular, and partly to show his learning and shorten his labor. Commonly, characters so used are called by their Japanese meanings, but sometimes too by their Chinese names.[110] The connection between the Chinese and Japanese, therefore, is very intimate, and presents a curious instance of assimilation between a symbolic and syllabic language, though at the cost of much hard study and labor to acquire the mongrel compound. It is another example of Asiatic toil upon the media of thought, rather than investigations in the world of thought and science itself; for no people who possessed invention, research, or science, would ever have encumbered themselves with so burdensome a vehicle of communication. The Chinese do not attend to the Japanese language, and have no knowledge of its structure, or the principles on which it has combined with their own. Their intercourse with Japan is entirely commercial; that of the Japanese with them, chiefly literary. The Coreans have also adopted the Chinese character, but without many of the elaborate modifications in use among the Japanese. They have had more intercourse with the Chinese, but have not been able to make their polysyllabic words assimilate with the monosyllables of the Chinese. They have invented an alphabet, the letters of which combine to form syllables, and these syllabic compounds are then used like the Japanese characters to express their own words. The original letters consist of fifteen consonants, called _ka_, _na_, _ta_, _la_ or _ra_, _ma_ or _ba_, _pa_, _sa_ or _sha_, _nga_, _tsa_ or _cha_, _ts´a_ or _ch´a_, _k´a_, _t´a_, _p´a_, _ha_, and _wa_; and eleven vowels, _a_, _ya_, _o_, _yo_, _oh_, _yoh_, _ú_, _yú_, _u_, _í_, and _âh_. The combinations of these form altogether one hundred and sixty-eight syllables, the last fourteen of which are triply combined by introducing the sound of _w_ between the consonants and some of the vowels, as _kwa_, _ts´hwo_, &c. The sounds and meanings of Chinese characters are expressed in this syllabary in the duoglott works prepared by the Coreans for learning Chinese; while it is used by itself in works intended for the natives. The Coreans have not, like the Japanese, unnecessarily increased the difficulty of their own language by employing a great number of signs for the same sound, but are content with one series. It is to be hoped that this facility results in a greater diffusion of knowledge among the people. The Japanese have the inflections of cases, moods, tenses and voices, in their language; but these features are denoted in Corean by the collocation of the words, and the words themselves remain unchanged as in Chinese. The sounds of the Corean are pleasant, and both it and the Japanese allow many alterations and elisions for the sake of euphony. Further investigation will probably show some connection originally between the Corean and Manchu languages, though the former of these has been more modified by the Chinese than the latter.[111] The people of Annam have adopted the Chinese characters without making a syllabary or alphabet to express their own vernacular. The inhabitants of this country are evidently of the same race as the Chinese, and now acknowledge a nominal subjection to the emperor of China by sending a triennial embassy to Peking, partly commercial and partly tributary. The sounds given to the Chinese characters are, however, so unlike those given them in China, that the two nations cannot converse with each other. The Annamese have many sounds in their spoken language which no Chinese can enunciate. The court dialect is learned by educated men, and books are written and printed in Chinese. The sounds given to the characters are all monosyllabic, and slight analogies can be traced running through the variations; but they offer very little assistance to any one, who, knowing only one mode of pronunciation, wishes to learn the other. Much of the interest connected with the investigation of the Chinese and its cognate tongues, arises from the immense multitudes which speak and write them; and from the influence which China has, through the writings of her sages, exerted over the minds and progress of her neighbors. There is nothing like it in European history; but the spell cast over the intellects of the millions in eastern Asia, by the writings of Confucius, Mencius, and their disciples, is likely erelong to be broken by the infusion of Christian knowledge, the extension of commerce, and a better understanding of their political and social rights by the multitudes who now adopt them. For much of the information embraced in this memoir on China, Japan, and the adjacent countries, I am indebted to the Chinese Repository, (a monthly journal printed at Canton), and more especially to one of its accomplished editors, Mr. S. Wells Williams. This gentleman during a residence of twelve years in China, has made himself familiar with the written and spoken language of the Chinese, and is ranked, by some of the eminent Sinologists of Europe, among the profoundest adepts in that branch of literature and philology. Mr. Williams has also studied the Japanese language, which he reads and speaks; and is probably the only man in America familiar with the languages of China and Japan. Several natives of Japan, driven by adverse winds from their native shores, found their way to China, and were subsequently taken by an American ship to Yedo, but were not permitted to land. From these men, Mr. Williams has learned the spoken Japanese, and as much of the written language as they could impart. This gentleman is at present in New York making arrangements for getting founts of Chinese, Japanese, and Manchu type, for printing in these languages. The Chinese Repository is a monthly journal, printed at Canton, and is edited by the Rev. Dr. Bridgman and Mr. Williams. It contains much valuable information relating to China, Japan, and the eastern Archipelago, and frequently memoirs, translated from the Japanese and Chinese. On the whole, it may with truth be said to embody more information than any other work extant, on these countries. Mr. Williams has now in press a new work on the Chinese empire, which will contain an account of its general political divisions, including Manchuria, Mongolia, Ili and Tibet, their geographical and topographical features. The natural history of China; its government, laws, literature, language, science, industry and arts. Social and domestic life--History and Chronology--Religion; Christian missions; intercourse with other nations; and a full account of the late war with England. The history of the introduction of Christianity into China, in the seventh century of the Christian era, the traces of which still exist; and of the Jews in China, are subjects which are now attracting attention. It would occupy too much space to give any particulars in this brief memoir. In the list of late works on China, will be found references to such books as treat of the subject, to which the attention of the reader is directed. The Syrian monument which has been often referred to, is one of great interest, and is believed by all who have examined the subject, to be genuine. This monument was discovered by some Chinese workmen, in the year 1625, in or near the city of Singan, the capital of the province of Shensi, and once the metropolis of the empire. The monument was found covered with rubbish, and was immediately reported to the magistrate, who caused it to be removed to a pagoda, where it was examined by both natives and foreigners, Christians and Pagans. It was a slab of marble, about ten feet long and five broad. It contained on one side a Chinese inscription, which was translated by Father Kircher into Latin, and by Dalquié into French. Mr. Bridgman has given an English translation, and has published the three versions, accompanied by the original Chinese, with explanatory notes. This inscription commemorates the progress of Christianity in China, and was erected in the year of the Christian era 718. Mr. Bridgman who is one of the most learned in the Chinese language, says in conclusion, that "there are strong internal evidences of its being the work of a professor of Christianity, and such we believe it to be."[112] Other portions of this memoir might be very much enlarged, but would extend it beyond the bounds of the _resumé_, which it is intended to give. There are besides other countries and people, accounts of which it would be desirable to give place to, particularly those of Central Asia, but they are unavoidably passed over from the space that would be required to do them justice. The object of this paper is to awaken the attention of readers to the geographical and ethnographical discoveries made within the last few years, all of which have a bearing on the history and progress of the human race. If the author has succeeded in so doing, he will feel abundantly repaid for his labor. The recent works on China are embraced in the following list. China; Political, Commercial and Social; with descriptions of the consular ports of Canton, Amoy, Ningpo and Shanghai, etc., etc. By R. Montgomery Martin. London, 1847. Chinese Commercial Guide. Macao, 1844. Voyage of the Nemesis; By W.D. Barnard. 2 vols. 8vo. London, 1843. 2d ed. 12mo. 1846. Events in China. By Granville Loch, R.N. 1844. War in China. By Lieut. Ochterlony. 1844. The Land of Sinim, with a brief account of the Jews and Christians in China, By a missionary. 12mo. N.Y., 1846. Sketches of China. By J.F. Davis. 2 vols. 12mo. 1845. The Jews in China. By J. Finn. 12mo. London, 1844. Les Juifs de la Chine, par H. Hirsch, (extrait des Israélites de France). 1844. Relation des Voyages faits par les Arabes et les Persans dans l'Inde et à la Chine, dans le IXth siècle de l'ère Chrétienne, par M. Reinaud. Paris, 1845. 2 vols. 18mo. Three years wanderings in China. By Robert Fortune. 8vo. London, 1847. The philological and other works on China, by M. Pauthier, a distinguished French scholar, are among the most valuable works in this department of learning. They embrace the following. Sinico-Ægyptiaca, essai sur l'origine et la formation similaire des écritures figuratives Chinoise et Égyptienne, etc. 8vo. De l'origine des différents systèmes d'écriture. 4to. Examen méthodique des faits qui concernent le Thian-Tchu ou l'Inde; traduit du Chinois. 8vo. Documents statistiques officiels sur l'empire de la Chine; traduits du Chinois. 8vo. La Chine, avec 73 planches. 8vo. La Chine ouverte, aventures d'un Fan-kouei dans le pays de Tsin; illustré par Auguste Borget. 8vo. Paris, 1845. La Chine et les Chinois, par le même. 8vo. Paris, 1844. Systema Phoneticum Scripturæ Sinicæ, auctore. J.M. Callery. 2 vols. royal 8vo. Macao, 1842. Narrative of the second campaign in China, by R.S. Mackenzie. 12mo. London. A work by G. Tradescant Lay; and another by Professor Kid, have also been published on China. FOOTNOTES: [1] In a paper read by Mr. Schoolcraft before the American Ethnological Society, it was clearly shown by existing remains, in Michigan and Indiana, plans of which were exhibited, that vast districts of country, now covered by forests and prairies, bear incontestable proofs of having been subject to cultivation at a remote period and before the forest had begun its growth. [2] This figure of an extended hand is the most common of all the symbols of the aboriginal tribes of America. It is found on the ancient temples, and within the tombs of Yucatan. At the earliest period it was used by the Indians, in the United States, and at the present time, it is employed by the roving bands and large tribes from the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, and from Texas northward. [3] "Bottoms" and "bottom lands," are terms applied to the flat lands adjoining rivers. In the State of New York they are called "flats"--as the "Mohawk flats." [4] Second Note sur une pierre gravée trouvé dans un ancien tumulus Americain, et à cette occasion, sur l'idiome Libyen, par M. Jomard. 8vo. Paris, 1846. [5] See Mr. Catherwood's paper on the Thugga monument and its inscriptions, in the Ethnolg. Trans. Vol. I. p. 477. [6] Notes on Africa. p. [7] The essay here alluded to, was the reply of Mr. Jomard to a note addressed to him by Mr. Eugene Vail, in 1839, announcing the discovery of the inscribed tablet in the Grave-creek mound, and requesting his opinion in relation to it. In this reply, Mr. Jomard stated that they were of the same character with the inscriptions found by Major Denham in the interior of Africa, as well as in Algiers and Tunis. This note was inserted in Mr. Vail's work entitled "_Notice sur les Indiens de l'Amerique du Nord_." Paris, 1840. This work is scarcely known in the United States. [8] I am aware that many believe the sculptures on the Dighton rock to contain several alphabetic characters. Prof. Rafn in his learned and ingenious memoir on this inscription, supports this view. In fact, Mr. Jomard himself hints at their Phoenician origin. [9] Histoire Naturelle des Canaries. Tom. I. p. 23 [10] Scenes in the Rocky Mountains, Oregon, California, &c., by a New Englander. p. 198. [11] Scenes in the Rocky Mountains, California, &c. by a New Englander. p. 180. [12] Auburn (New York) Banner, 1837. [13] Political Essay on New Spain. Vol. 2, p. 315. (London ed. in 4 vols. 8vo.) [14] Life and Travels in California. p. 372. [15] Dr. Lyman states, that "in the autumn of 1841, an American trader with thirty-five men, went from Bents fort to the Navijo country, built a breastwork with his bales of goods, and informed the astonished Indians, that he had 'come into their country to trade or fight, which ever they preferred.' The campaigns of the old trappers were too fresh in their memory to allow hesitation. They chose to trade, and soon commenced a brisk business." [16] Humboldt's Political Essay on New Spain. Vol. 2, p. 316. On the testimony of the missionaries of the _Collegio de Queretaro_, versed in the Aztec language, M. Humboldt states, that the language spoken by the Moqui Indians is essentially different from the Mexican language. In the seventeenth century, missionaries were established among the Moquis and Navijos, who were massacred in the great revolt of the Indians in 1680. [17] Clavigero, Hist. Mexico. Vol. 1, p. 151. Humboldt's Polit. Essay on New Spain, Vol. 2. p. 300. A more detailed account of these remains, may be found in the Appendix to Castaneda's "_Relation du Voyage de Cibola en 1540_," published in the "_Relations et memoirs originaux_" of Ternaux-Compans. The state of the country, the manners and customs of the Indians, and their peculiar state of civilization are given at length, and are interesting in this enquiry. The notice of the "_Grande Maison, dite de Moctezuma_," is extracted from the journal of Father Pedro Font, who traversed this country to Monterey, on the Pacific, in 1775. [18] Report to the Royal Geographical Society, London, Nov. 9, 1846. [19] Nouvelles Annales des Voyages. Feb. 1846. p. 146. [20] London Athenæum, Aug. 8, 1846, in which is a condensed account of this journey. [21] Simmond's Colonial Magazine. Vol. V. p. 87. [22] There is evidently some mistake in these dimensions, which would give a mass of masonry many times larger than the great pyramid at Ghizeh. [23] London Athenæum, Nov. 9. 1846. [24] Journal of the Geographical Society. Vol. 16. [25] Missionary Herald, vol. 41. p. 218. [26] London Athenæum, March 7, 1846. [27] Ibid. Oct. 31, 1846. [28] Bulletin de la Société de Géographie. Rapport par M. Roger. 1846. p. 321. [29] London Athenæum, July 4, 1846. [30] London Athenæum, July, 1845. [31] The Geography of N'Yassi, or the Great Lake of Southern Africa, investigated, with an account of the overland route from the Quanza, in Angola, to the Zambezi, in the government of Mozambique, by Wm. Desbrough Cooley, in the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, London. Vol. xv. [32] Notes on African Geography, by James M'Queen.--_Ibid._ Contributions towards the Geography of Africa, by James McQueen, in Simmond's Colonial Magazine, Vol. vi. [33] Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, Vol. 15, p. 371. [34] Nouvelles Annales des Voyages: May, 1846, p. 139. [35] Bulletin de la Société de Géographie de France, for 1845, p. 251. [36] Notice sur le Progrès des découvertes Géographiques pendant l'année, 1845, par V. de St. Martin. Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, p. 245. [37] Nouvelles Annales des Voyages. Notes Ethnologiques, sur la race blanche des Aures. Par M. Guyon. Janvier, 1846, p. 116. [38] Comptes-Rendus de l'Académie des Sciences, 29 Dec. 1845. [39] Revue Archæologique, Nov. 1845. [40] The incident which led to the discovery of this alphabet is deserving of notice. An Algerine named Sidy-Hamdan-Ben-Otsman-Khodja, who had gained the confidence of the Duke of Rovigo, then Governor of Algiers, was in correspondence with the Bey of Constantine. The Hadji Ahmed, to render this correspondence more sure, wrote his letters in conventional signs, known among certain Arabs by the name of _romouz_. Ali the son of Sidy-Hamdan, who was the bearer of these Missives, had lived a long time in France as an officer in the employ of the Sublime Porte; and in his hands M. Boisonnet one day discovered the letters of Hadji Ahmed. On glancing his eye over one of these documents he discovered at the top (_en vedette_) two groups of signs, which, from their situation, he readily imagined might be the equivalents of the Arab sacramental words, _Praise be to God_, with which all good Musselmen generally begin an epistle. With this supposition he applied the alphabetic value to each character, and thus obtained the value of six of these strange cyphers. The next day he obtained two of these documents or letters from Ali, who little suspected what use he intended making of them. With these materials he diligently applied himself, and on the following morning sent him a complete translation of the letters. Ali was greatly alarmed that Mr. Boisonnet had solved the enigma, but more so that he had thereby become acquainted with the correspondence. Struck with the analogy between these characters and the Lybian characters on the Thugga monument, he applied the alphabet discovered by him, and the result is known.--_Revue Archæologique_, November, 1845. [41] See De Saulcy. Revue des deux Mondes, June, 1846. [42] The accident which led to this second discovery deserves to be mentioned. The person into whose hands the manuscript fell, while examining the leaves which were remarkably thick, accidentally spilt a tumbler of water on it. In order to dry it he placed it in the sun in a window, when the parchment that was wet separated. He opened the leaves which had been sealed and found the Pagan manuscript between them. A farther examination showed that the entire volume was similarly formed. [43] Keppell's Borneo, vol. I. p. 233. [44] Keppell's Borneo, vol. I. p. 59. [45] Missionary Herald, vol. 42, p. 100. [46] Letter to the Hon. C.J. Ingersoll, chairman of the committee on foreign affairs, containing some brief notices respecting the present state, productions, trade, commerce, &c. of the Comoro Islands, Abyssinia, Persia, Burma, Cochin China, the Indian Archipelago, and Japan; and recommending that a special mission be sent by the government of the United States, to make treaties and extend our commercial relations with those countries: by Aaron H. Palmer, councillor of the Supreme Court of the United States. [47] See "China Mail" newspaper, for March 26, 1846. [48] Frazer's Magazine, 1846. In this Magazine is an article of much interest on the commercial relations of the Indian Archipelago. [49] Annals of the Propagation of the Faith. Sept. 1846. [50] London Evangelical Magazine, August, 1846. [51] Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, 1846. Extrait d'une description de l'archipel des îles Solo, p. 311. [52] Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, for 1846, p. 365. [53] Physical description of New South Wales and Van Dieman's Land. [54] Address of Lord Colchester to Count Strzelecki on presenting him with the medal. [55] Discoveries in Australia, vol. 1. p. 252. [56] p. 394. [57] vol. 2. p. 10. [58] London Athenæum, July 25, 1846. Ibid. Aug. 8, 1846. [59] Report of Dr. Leichardt's Expedition, Simmonds' Colonial Magazine, vol. 2, 1845. [60] London Athenæum. Nov. 3, 1846. [61] Simmond's Colonial Magazine, Nov. 1846. [62] Herodotus, in speaking of the subjugation of Lycia, by Cyrus and Harpagus, says; "When Harpagus led his army towards Xanthus, the Lycians boldly advanced to meet him, and, though inferior in numbers, behaved with the greatest bravery. Being defeated and pursued into their city, they collected their wives, children and valuable effects, into the citadel, and there consumed the whole in one immense fire.... Of those who now inhabit Lycia, calling themselves Xanthians, _the whole are foreigners_, eighty families excepted."--_Clio_, 176. See also _Clio_, 171-173. Herodotus further states that the Lycians originated from the Cretans, a branch of the Hellenic race; and Strabo, in a fragment preserved from Ephorus, states that the Lycians were a people of Greek origin, who had settled in the country previously occupied by the barbarous tribes of Mylians and Solymi. Homer briefly alludes to the Lycians, who, at the siege of Troy, assisted the Trojans under certain rulers whose names are mentioned.--_Iliad_, b. v. and xii. [63] Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London. Vol. IX. [64] Ibid. Vol. XV. p. 104. [65] Wellsted's Travels in Arabia, Vol. I. p. 92. [66] Particulars read to the meeting of Royal Geographical Society of London, November 9, 1846.--London Ath. [67] Les Steppes de la mer Caspienne, le Caucase, la Crimée et la Russie méridionale; voyage Pittoresque, Historique et Scientifique; par X. Hommaire de Hell. 3 vols. royal 8vo. and folio atlas of Plates. Paris, 1845. [68] I feel warranted in going back and tracing the progress of these discoveries, as so little is known of it by English readers. The translation of Grotefend's essay in Heeren's Researches, was the only accessible original treatise on the subject, until the recent publications of Major Rawlinson and Prof. Westergaard. In Germany, much has been written and some in France. These papers are chiefly in antiquarian or philological Transactions and are scarcely known here. A full account of the discovery in question, of its progress and present state, seems therefore necessary. [69] Grotefend's Essay on the cuneiform inscriptions, in Heeren's Asiatic Nations. Vol. II. p. 334. [70] The Zendavesta is one of the most ancient as well as remarkable books that has come down to us from the East. It was first made known in Europe in the year 1762, by Anquetil du Perron, who brought it from Surat in India, whither he went expressly to search for the ancient books of the East. He spent many years (seventeen it is said) in making a translation, which he accompanied with valuable notes, illustrative of the doctrines of Zoroaster, and in elucidation of the Zend language, in which this book was written. A great sensation was produced in Europe among the learned at the appearance of the work. Examined as a monument of the ancient religion and literature of the Persians, it was differently appreciated by them. Sir William Jones[A] and others, not only questioned its authenticity, but denounced the translator in very harsh terms. But later writers, among these some of the most distinguished philologists of Europe, are willing to let it rank among the earliest books of the East, and as entitled to an antiquity at least six centuries anterior to the Christian era. The Zendavesta (from _zend_ living, and _avesta_ word, i. e. "the living word") consists of a series of liturgic services for various occasions, and bears the same reference to the books of Zoroaster that our breviaries and common-prayer books do to the Bible. It embraces five books. 1. The _Izechné_, "elevation of the soul, praise, devotion;" 2. the _Vispered_, "the chiefs of the beings there named;" 3. the _Vendidad_, which is considered as the foundation of the law; 4. the _Yeshts Sades_, or "a collection of compositions and of fragments;" 5. the book _Siroz_, "thirty days," containing praises addressed to the Genius of each day; and which is a sort of liturgical calendar.[B] The doctrines inculcated in the Zendavesta are "the existence of a great first principle. Time without beginning and without end. This incomprehensible being is the author of the two great active powers of the universe--Ormuzd the principle of all good, and Ahriman the principle of all evil. Ormuzd is the first creative agent produced by the Self-Existent. He is perfectly pure, intelligent, just, powerful, active, benevolent,--in a word, the precise image of the Element; the centre and author of the perfections of all nature." Ahriman is the opposite of this. He is occupied in perverting and corrupting every thing good; he is the source of misery and evil. "Ordained to create and govern the universe, Ormuzd received the Word, which in his mouth became an instrument of infinite power and fruitfulness."[C] "The first created man was composed of the four elements,--fire, air, water, and earth. "Ormuzd to this perishable frame added an immortal spirit, and the being was complete." The soul of man consists of separate parts, each having peculiar offices. "1. The principle of sensation. 2. The principle of intelligence. 3. The principle of practical judgment. 4. The principle of conscience. 5. The principle of animal life." After death, "the principle of animal life mingles with the winds," the body being regarded as a mere instrument in the power of the will. The first three are accountable for the deeds of the body, and are examined at the day of judgment. "This law or religion is still professed by the descendants of the Persians, who, conquered by the Mohammedans, have not submitted to the Koran; they partly inhabit Kirman and partly the western coast of India, to the north and south of Surat."[D] The traces which are apparent in the Zendavesta of Hindoo superstitions, indicate that its author borrowed from the sacred books of India, while its sublime doctrines evidently point to the Pentateuch. Mr. Eugene Burnouf is now publishing at Paris a new translation of the Zendavesta from a Sanscrit version under the title of "Commentaire sur le Yaçna," in which he has embodied a vast deal of oriental learning, illustrative of the geography, history, religion and language of ancient Persia. The first volume was published in 1833. [A] Sir William Jones's Works. Vol. X. p. 403. [B] See note to the "Dabistan." Pub. for the Oriental Translations Fund. Vol. I. p. 225. [C] Frazer's History of Persia. p. 150-157. [D] Note to the "Dabistan." Vol. 1. p. 222. by its editor, A. Troyer. [71] The modern title of the sovereign of Persia, _Shah_, is at once recognised in the ancient name _Kshe_ or _Ksha_ of the monuments. [72] Mémoire sur deux Inscriptions cuneiforms, trouvées près d'Hamadan. Paris, 1836. [73] Die Alt-Persischen Keil-Inschriften von Persepolis. Bonn, 1836. The other papers of Prof. Lassen may be found in the "Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes," a periodical work published at Bonn, exclusively devoted to Oriental subjects. It is the most learned work on Oriental Philology and Archæology published in Europe. [74] While Major Rawlinson was occupied in Persia, the subject was attracting much attention among the Orientalists of Europe. Burnouf and Lassen, as we have seen, then published the results of their investigations, which were afterwards found to be almost identical with those of Major R. Neither of these scholars was aware at the time of the others' labors. This is an interesting fact, and establishes the correctness of the conclusions at which they eventually arrived. [75] The Zend language is known to us chiefly by the "Zendavesta." Of its antiquity there is doubt. Some philologists believe that it grew up with the decline of the old Persian, or was formed on its basis, with an infusion from the Sanscrit, Median, and Scythic languages. It was used in the time of Darius Hystaspes, B.C. 550, at which period Zoroaster lived, who employed the Zend in the composition of the "Zendavesta." Its antiquity has formed the subject of many memoirs; but late writers, among whom are Rask, Eugene Burnouf, Bopp, and Lassen, have decided from the most severe tests of criticism, that the Zend was an ancient language derived from the same source as the Sanscrit, and that it was spoken before the Christian era, particularly in the countries situated west of the Caspian Sea, in Georgia, Iran proper, and northern Media. Note to the Dabistan, Vol. I. p. 222. The only specimen of this language yet known, with the exception of a few MSS. of little importance among the Parsees, is the Zendavesta. Major Rawlinson[A] adopts views at variance with those of the distinguished German philologists, in regard to the antiquity of the Zend language. Its "very elaborate vocalic organization," he thinks, "indicates a comparatively recent era for the formation of its alphabet;" and of the Zend-Avesta, he is of opinion that "the disfigurement of authentic history affords an argument of equal weight against the antiquity of its composition." He fully agrees, however, with all others as to the very remote composition of the books generally ascribed to Zoroaster. In fact this is beyond all question, for Plato mentions them (Pol. B. XXX.). Clemens of Alexandria says they were known in the 5th century B.C. and many other ancient writers could be cited in proof of the same.[B] [A] See Rawlinson. Memoir on Cuneiform Inscriptions. Note to page 42. [B] See a note to the "Dabistan," Vol. I. p. in which is given a list of all the ancient writers who mention Zoroaster and his works. [76] On the Decyphering of the Median species of Arrow-headed Writing, by N.L. Westergaard, in the Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaires du Nord. Copenhagen, 1844. [77] Memoir on the Cuneiform Inscriptions, p. 20. [78] Ibid. p. 28. [79] On the Median variety of Arrow-headed Writing. Mémoires de la Société des Antiquaires du Nord, for 1844. p. 272. [80] Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes. 1844-45. Prof. Westergaard has also published his paper in English, in the Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaires du Nord, Copenhagen, 1844, prefixing to it Lassen's alphabet of the first sort of Persepolitan writing. He was probably induced to do this by observing the limited extent to which the German language is cultivated by English scholars, insomuch that even Rawlinson complains that he was unable to read any more of Lassen's papers than his translations of the inscriptions, which are in Latin. [81] Memoir on the Persian cuneiform inscriptions. p. 47. [82] Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, 1844 '45. [83] For inscription see Rich's Babylon and Persepolis, plate 24, and page 254. [84] Revue Archæologique. October, 1844. [85] Westergaard in Mém. de la Socié. Royale des Antiq. du Nord, p. 419. Ibid. p. 423. [86] Lettres de M. Botta sur les découvertes à Khorsabad, près de Ninive; publiées par M.J. Mohl. [87] London Times, June, 1846. Two interesting letters from Mr. Layard, dated August 12, 1846, to Mr. Kellogg, of Cincinnati, were read before the American Ethnological Society, at its meeting in February, giving further accounts of his discoveries. [88] See London Athenæum, Oct. 10, 1846, a letter from Constantinople dated Sept. 10. [89] The prophet Daniel in his vision of four beasts says, "The first was like a lion, and had eagles' wings; I beheld till the wings thereof were plucked, and it was lifted up from the earth, and made stand upon the feet as a man." _Daniel, ch. VII. v. 4._ The resemblance between the animal of Daniel's vision and those recently discovered at Nineveh is striking. [90] Richardson in the Preface to his Persian Dictionary. [91] Preface to the "Dabistan" published by the Oriental Trans. Fund:--by A. Troyer. Vol. I. p. 30. [92] Annales des Voyages, April, 1845, p. 58. [93] Ld. Colchester's Address, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, 1846. [94] Address to the British Association for the Advancement of Science, at its meeting, September, 1846. [95] The Royal Geographical Society of London has conferred its Victoria Gold Medal on Prof. Middendorff for his successful exploration. [96] Lord Colchester's Address before the Royal Geog. Society. London, 1846. [97] Missionary Herald. Vol. XLI. p. 138. [98] Missionary Herald. Vol. XLI. p. 206. [99] English Baptist Missionary Report for 1845. p. 9. [100] It appears that the Baptist Missionary Society in the year ending in March, 1845,[A] expended in India $29,500, of which sum nearly $15,000, or rather more than one half, was expended in making translations of books into various languages. The remainder was for the support of the missionaries, their outfits and passages, the support of native teachers--schools &c. The languages and dialects which have been studied and elucidated and into which books have been translated may be summed up as follows. 32 languages and dialects in India, 4 do. do. in Persia and the Caucasian countries, 5 do. in China and the Indo-Chinese countries, 4 do. in Polynesia. The translations consist of the whole or portions of the Scriptures; books on religious or moral subjects; elementary works on Science, popular Histories, geography, &c. Elementary books in the several departments of Science and History constitute the greater variety, though of the whole number of works distributed, the Bible and Testament constitute by far the greatest part. For example, the English Baptist Missionary Society printed and issued in the year ending March 1845, fifty-five thousand copies of the Bible and Testament in the Sanscrit, Bengali, Hindostani, and Armenian languages. The number of books printed and distributed in India by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions was as follows. MADRAS MISSION. In the Tamil and English languages: The Scriptures or portions of them--books of a religious character--elementary school books--tracts--periodicals and reports of benevolent associations bearing on the cause of Christianity and the social and intellectual improvement of the population of India, there were printed at this single establishment, within a fraction of twenty-seven millions of pages--or, if in volumes of two hundred and seventy pages each, one hundred thousand volumes; but as there were many tracts, the number was doubtless double or treble. Besides this there are six other large establishments in Southern India, where books in the Tamil language are printed, all under the control of Missionary Societies. CEYLON MISSION. In the Tamil and English languages were printed during the year, twenty-three thousand seven hundred and forty-four volumes, and one hundred and forty-five thousand tracts, amounting to six million one hundred and fifty-six thousand pages. SIAM MISSION. In the Siamese language were printed in two years two million four hundred and sixty-two thousand pages. When so much is accomplished by one Society, how vast must be the influence exerted by the various Missionary and Tract Societies engaged in the same cause. [A] Report of the English Baptist Missionary Society for 1845. [101] Missionary Herald, Vol. XLV. p. 47. [102] Chinese Repository. Vol. XV. p. 113. [103] Annals of the Propaganda for 1846. p. 55. [104] Ibid. July, 1846. [105] Annals of the Propaganda for September, 1845. [106] Chinese Repository, Vol. xii. p. 78. [107] Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, July, 1846. [108] Chinese Repository, Vol. xiv. p. 155. [109] It is desirable that this word be expunged from all works on China and eastern Asia, and the proper words _officers_, _authorities_, _magistrates_, &c., be used instead. Every officer, from a prime minister to a constable or tide-waiter, is called a mandarin by foreigners, partly because those who write do not know the rank of the person, and partly from the common custom of calling many things in China by some peculiar term, as if they were unlike the same things elsewhere. [110] Chinese Repository, Vol. X, pp. 205-215. [111] Chinese Repository. Vol. I., p. 276; Vol. II., pp. 135-138. [112] Chinese Repository. Vol. XIV. p. 202. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: Obvious typesetting errors have been corrected. Obvious spelling errors in foreign language references have been corrected. Inconsistencies in spelling have been normalized unless otherwise noted below. Questionable or vintage spelling has been left as printed in the original publication. Footnotes in the original publication were marked with symbols at the page level. Sequential footnote numbering has been applied and all footnotes have been relocated to the end of the text. Variations in spelling for Musselman/Mussulman left as printed in original publication. Punctuation marks to establish phrasing (i. e., commas and semi-colons) that were placed inside a closing parenthesis have been moved outside the parenthesis. Page 3: A chapter heading entitled "NORTH AMERICA." has been added for consistency with chapters listed in the publication's Contents pages. Page 14 (footnote 6): Page number reference for "Notes on Africa" missing in original text. Page 20 (footnote 17): "Grande Maison, dite de Moetezuma" changed to "Grande Maison, dite de Moctezuma". Page 26: The second footnote on this page has been converted to appear as block text, consistent with the remainder of the publication in which lists of "Recent Works" appear at the conclusion of a given section. The footnote marker has been removed. Page 30: Removed stray opening quotation mark mid-sentence that was not closed. 'From the base of this structure "commences an inclined'. Page 48: The footnote on this page has been converted to appear as block text, consistent with the remainder of the publication in which lists of "Recent Works" appear at the conclusion of a given section. The footnote marker has been removed. Page 69: A chapter heading entitled "ASIA." has been added for consistency with chapters listed in the publication's Contents pages. Page 87 (footnote 70): The paragraph beginning "The first created man was composed of the four elements..." contains unmatched quotation marks in the original publication and has been left as printed. Page 92 (footnote 75B): Opening text 'See a note to the "Dabistan," Vol. I. p. in which...' is missing the page number ("p.") in the original publication. Page 93: Changed "Archæmenian" to "Achæmenian" in the following sentence (as originally printed): "Various combinations of a figure shaped like a wedge, together with one produced by the union of two wedges, constitute the system of writing employed by the ancient Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, and the Archæmenian kings of Persia." Page 107: Original publication is missing a numeral in what is presumably a year in the 1800's. Transcribed here as "18_3". Page 126: Added a footnote marker for footnote 105 at the end of this sentence: "The last volume of the Annals of the Propaganda Society contains an interesting narrative of a journey into Mongolia, by the Rev. Mr. Huc."

The Progress of Ethnology: An Account of Recent Archaeological, Philological and Geographical Researches in Various Parts of the Globe, Tending to Elucidate the Physical History of Man

Bartlett, John Russell

1805

1886

['en']

44

{'Anthropology -- History', 'Ethnology -- History'}

PG35234

Text