Roman Public Life

by A. H. J. Greenidge

In one further and less important respect was this community of the Plebs modelled on the larger community of the Populus. In the year when the tribunate was established, the magistrates of the Plebs were given two assistants,[371] who bore the same relation to them as the two quaestors did to the consuls. Their functions were as undefined as those of the quaestors; but, when the powers of the tribunate were slightly better established, these delegates seem, like their prototypes, to have been concerned mainly with criminal jurisdiction and finance. They also kept the archives of the Plebs in the temple of Ceres, and it was thought that it was from this that their name aediles (possibly not their original title) was derived.[372] They served the tribunes in the exercise of their coercitio, seizing the offender or inflicting the death penalty. We find them performing this function in the trial of Coriolanus.[373] After the tribunes had gained criminal jurisdiction, they assisted them as delegates.[374] Their original financial functions are somewhat indefinable; but such functions are suggested by their office at the temple of Ceres and the archives which they guarded there—functions which find exact parallels in those of the quaestors at the temple of Saturn. It may have been one of their duties to exercise some supervision over the forced labour (operae) of the Plebeians, and this may have led to an early connexion with the repair of roads and buildings. Their police functions, their supervision of the market, above all their maintenance of the state religion amongst the masses, can hardly be referred to this early period.[375]

The aediles may originally have been nominated by their superiors; but election by the concilium of the Plebs, under the presidency of a tribune, is the only form of their appointment which is known to us. The office was legalised with the tribunate, and its holder possessed the same personal sanctity as the tribune, conferred first by oath and then by law.[376]

For the power of these plebeian magistrates rests wholly on a superstitious belief, consciously applied to fill up a gap in the public law. It might have been thought that magistrates elected by a large body of the citizens, whose powers were recognised by public law, would have been sufficiently protected by their position. But the Romans were slaves to legal formulae. The Plebs was not the community, nor even at first a legalised corporation within the city; the tribunes were, therefore, not magistrates of the state, and wore none of the insignia of office; they had not the imperium and the auspicia, and therefore could not be protected by the law of treason (perduellio), which avenged wrongs done to the state in the person of its magistrate. A substitute must be found in a religious sanction. Perhaps Rome is the only state that has definitely invested the demagogue or “champion of the people” with a halo of sanctity. This was first given him by the people whom he championed. The Plebs on the Mons Sacer had sworn an oath to destroy any one who destroyed their tribune—an oath which they perpetuated to their descendants. The sanctity of the tribunes, therefore, had originally no valid religious ground, for the Populus had not pronounced such an offender to be sacer, nor had the oath been taken by a magistrate on behalf of the whole community. It was simply a proclamation by a section of the people of the infringement of rights which they held would justify a revolution; and the declaration was accepted by the Roman state when it recognised the tribunate. But the inviolability of plebeian magistrates did not gain legal recognition until the reinstitution of the office in 449 B.C. Then the violator of the majesty of the tribune was made a sacer homo[377] in its later sense of “an outlaw” for the whole community, and the aediles and the plebeian decemviri were protected by the same ban. Yet the Roman jurists held that this law did not give sacrosanctitas, at least to the tribune; that was given by the “ancient oath” of the Plebs; the law only announced a penalty which might be carried out by any member of the community. This view was of importance, because it recognised the capital jurisdiction of the Plebs in all cases where their magistrates had been injured; and, although subsequent practice was unfavourable to this jurisdiction, its legality cannot be questioned. The tribune was himself the defender of his own personal inviolability and that of his fellow-officers; for it was he who summarily inflicted the punishment or proposed the penalty to the concilium. The crime of infringing plebeian liberties could not originally have borne a definite name; in later times it was brought under the vague conception of majestas, “the infringement of the greatness of the state.” The penalty might be a capital one, while the acts construed as infringement might be very slight indeed. Physical compulsion, blows, an attempt at murder were all obvious cases; but forcible resistance to a tribune’s will[378] came under this head, and, after the law which guaranteed the right of meeting to the Plebs, any act, whether of magistrates or individuals, which interrupted a meeting of the Plebs summoned by a tribune.[379]

In fact, during the earliest years of the struggles of the Plebs, the rights of the corporation are represented only by the powers of the tribune, through whom alone it claimed official recognition; and thus from 494 to the epoch of the decemviral legislation (451) the tribunate is engaged in efforts to gain a better representation of the plebeian community, and to secure an equality in the administration of the law, which should render the clumsy negative system of the constant interposition of their auxilium less necessary.

The first attempt seems to have been to some extent secured by the plebiscitum passed by Publilius Volero in 471, which enacted that the concilium of the Plebs, instead of meeting as before by curiae, should now meet by tribes (tributim).[380] As this was a purely self-regarding ordinance, it probably did not require the consent of Senate and people,[381] and we are told that it was looked on with disfavour by the Patricians. The grounds of their objections are not easily fathomed, nor is the gain to the Plebs brought about by the change particularly clear.[382] The number of the tribes at this time is unknown, but it was probably twenty-one. This growth had been brought about by an abandonment of the Servian principle. After the Roman territory, lost in great part during the earliest years of the Republic, had been regained, a wholly new subdivision of the ager Romanus had been adopted. The four Servian tribes were confined to the ring-wall of the city, and the land without the walls was now separated into tribus, which were called the country (rusticae) as opposed to the city tribes (tribus urbanae). Sixteen of these country tribes bear the names of patrician gentes;[383] they must have been named from the clan settlements and were obviously the first created. It is affirmed by Dionysius[384] that, at the time of the trial of Coriolanus (491 B.C.), the number of the tribes was twenty-one; but it has been conjectured with some plausibility that the twenty-first was added in this very year 471, when the tribe was first used for voting purposes, in order to create an inequality of votes, and that it bears its local name (Clustumina or Crustumina) in memory of the secession of the Plebs to the Sacred Mount.[385] The Plebs may have petitioned the consuls to add one more to the divisions of the state; for it was they alone who could effect the change, the creation of a tribe being an administrative act which none but the magistrates of the community could carry out.

These tribes were, like the earlier ones, local, and although there is no evidence for the view that landholders alone were included in them, yet the seventeen country tribes would naturally consist for the most part of peasant proprietors, and would, therefore, be a better organ for plebeian sentiment than the curiae, throughout which the landless plebeian clients might still be the representatives of their patrician lords.

This change soon produced an unexpected consequence. At some period between the passing of the Publilian law and the enactment of the Twelve Tables, the new plebeian practice was adopted as a basis for gatherings of the whole people. The Populus began to meet by tribes, and to form a comitia tributa. The Twelve Tables prove that this body early gained judicial competence;[386] but the history of the great change which placed a democratic assembly of the Populus by the side of the timocratic comitia centuriata is wholly unknown to us. It is probable that the original power of this new parliament was not extensive, and it may have been confined originally to the hearing of minor judicial appeals from the magistrates. About twenty years later it was found convenient to entrust the election of quaestors to the new assembly. Its attractiveness lay in the ease and rapidity with which the people might be summoned to meet by tribes within the walls, as compared with the stately formalities of the gathering of the army in the Campus.

The second great movement of the tribunate was an attempt to secure an equal administration of the law.

In the year 462 the tribune C. Terentilius Arsa made a proposal to the concilium of the Plebs that a commission of five should be appointed to clear up the forms of legal procedure, and by this means to fix limits to the judicial caprice of the consuls;[387] and in the next year a resolution of the whole college of tribunes was framed to this effect. It was obviously a measure which demanded the sanction of the Populus, and this it was for many years impossible to obtain. Even apart from the fact that the tribunes apparently intended their commission to consist wholly of Plebeians, it was felt to be a proposal that was revolutionary in the extreme; for it was nothing less than the demand for a code, for a written system of rules which should replace the elastic principles of justice, which were one of the mainstays of patrician power, and which would vulgarise the awful sanctity of the consulate and the pontifical college. It must also have been felt that codification must mean a compromise—some recognition of plebeian claims which would weaken the position of the ruling caste. Hence a stout opposition on the part of magistrates and Senate, and the bill, if it passed the concilium plebis at all,[388] was not allowed to go a step further. But the Plebs persisted in its efforts, and its answer to patrician opposition was to return year after year the same tribunes, formulating the same demands. In 458 B.C. the college approached the consuls on the subject, and asked them to formulate their objections to the bill;[389] for the moment there was the hope of an agreement, but at the end of the year the consent required was again refused. Three years more of agitation followed, and then it was felt that the original proposal must be abandoned. The tribunes expressed their willingness for the initiative to be taken by the patrician magistrates, and for a joint commission to be appointed. Meanwhile the years of discussion had caused the original proposal to assume larger dimensions. Reform which should bear a wholly non-party character was suggested in place of a mere codification. Information of the Greek Codes was to be gathered by a commission of three—a suggestion which was valuable in many ways; it was useful for purposes of delay, it gave an appearance of learning and thoroughness to the work, and perhaps some such basis was felt to be absolutely necessary for framing rules on points which the very indefinite Roman procedure had never considered. The return of the envoys in 452, after an absence of three years, renewed the demands of the tribunes for the instant prosecution of the work. A controversy between the orders as to the constitution of the commission ended in a compromise. Plebeians might be admitted; but, as a matter of fact, the patrician influence was so strong that the first board elected by the comitia centuriata appears to have consisted wholly of members of that order.[390] The appointment of the commission was a complete abrogation of the constitution. The consulship was abolished; the Plebs gave up their tribunate, some have thought in perpetuity, misled by the hope that the publication of the law would render such a check on the consular power unnecessary, and as a part of the compromise with the Patricians, and stipulated only that certain privileges which they had already gained by law should not be abrogated.[391] The provisional government appointed for the year 451 took the form of a board of ten men with consular power but not subject to the law of appeal.[392] The work was done within the year, and the code posted up on ten tablets (tabulae) and published to the masses. The people were summoned and told that the commission had created equal rights for all,[393] and the whole body of law was passed as a lex by the comitia centuriata. But at the end of the year it was declared that the work was not quite complete. Again the constitution was suspended, and a new board of ten appointed, this time inclusive of Plebeians.[394] Two new sections were added, thus bringing up the number of the tabulae to twelve; these also were confirmed by the centuries, and after the government of the “wicked ten” had abused its power and fallen, were published with the rest of the code by the consuls of 448.[395]

Although the law of the Twelve Tables (lex duodecim tabularum) was for the most part a codification of existing rules, it marks a distinct advance in the recognition of plebeian rights, and thus was of the utmost political importance in framing rules for the whole state the question before the commissioners was whether the customary law embodied in the code should be that which prevailed in the patrician, or that which held good in the plebeian community. In almost every important particular plebeian law was preferred. The reason was not any regard for plebeian rights (the decemvirs re-enacted the rule forbidding marriage between the orders), but the simplicity and the capacity for universality of this law. The code is not a hap-hazard collection, but a scientific compilation; the aim was a “levelling” of the law, an arbitrament between classes, such as had often formed the task of the Greek legislator; and in effecting this object the commissioners showed more wisdom than any Greek legislator of whom we hear. The idea of legislating for a class, or the still more foolish idea of perfect logical adjustment, are strikingly absent. The code is thoroughly Roman in its caution and good sense, its respect for the past, which it disregards only when old custom violates the rules of common sense, and its judicious contempt for symmetry. Such a code as this might be changed in detail, but was never likely to be repealed. It remained the “fountain of all public and private law,” and justly, for, according to Tacitus, it was the “consummation of equal right.”[396] Its rhythmical sentences were learnt by heart by school-boys in Cicero’s time.[397] Elaborate commentaries were written on it by the republican lawyer Aelius, and the imperial jurist Gaius, and by Labeo, who stands at the meeting-point between the two régimes; and in the sixth century A.D. Justinian, in the old age of the world, still respects many of the provisions which date from the infancy of Roman legislation.