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The family in late antiquity: the experience of augustine. By "Roman family," We mean the typical living and reproductive unit in which most of the urbancentred populations of the western Roman empire lived their lives.
The family in late antiquity: the experience of augustine. By "Roman family," We mean the typical living and reproductive unit in which most of the urbancentred populations of the western Roman empire lived their lives.
The family in late antiquity: the experience of augustine. By "Roman family," We mean the typical living and reproductive unit in which most of the urbancentred populations of the western Roman empire lived their lives.
The Family in Late Antiquity: The Experience of Augustine
Author(s): Brent D. Shaw Source: Past & Present, No. 115 (May, 1987), pp. 3-51 Published by: Oxford University Press on behalf of The Past and Present Society Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/650838 Accessed: 23/10/2009 19:57 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=oup. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. Oxford University Press and The Past and Present Society are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Past & Present. http://www.jstor.org THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY: THE EXPERIENCE OF AUGUSTINE* Few historical problems are free of paradox. The Roman family is no exception. The contradiction between the ideas and images Ro- mans held concerning the family, and the actual means and practices by which it was created, present the historian with both dilemma and opportunity. Research into the structure and the conception of the "Roman family" has revealed a seeming discontinuity between the dominant ideology concerning the family and the practical realities of family life. By "Roman family" is meant, rather broadly, the typical living and reproductive unit in which most of the urban- centred populations of the western Roman empire lived their lives in the period from the first to fifth centuries after Christ. Studies of Roman elite conceptions of family during this period, as expressed by the primary termsfamilia ("family") and domus (household), show decisively that literary and legal expressions for the family never narrowed to mean the nuclear-family unit that we customarily associ- ate with the term (that is to say, the mother-father-children unit to the exclusion of other relatives and dependants). Rather, the principal words which Romans had at their disposal to describe "family" seem consistently, till the end of the empire in the west, to have designated a rather wide range of persons including agnatic descendants, cog- nates and dependants in a large lineage extending vertically over several generations through time. When one studies the empirical phenomenon of "family", how- ever, the actual practice of these same persons over the whole of this period seems to have been rather different. A range of data indicates that the dominant centre of family relationships, in terms of primary duties, obligations and affections, was that of the nuclear family. And the whole spectrum of vocabulary referring to persons actively involved in "the family" seems to be restricted mainly to persons in * The author would like to thank all those who offered their criticism and advice on this paper in the course of its writing, especially Peter Brown, Averil Cameron, Julius Kirshner (and members of the University of Chicago history seminar), Richard Saller and Susan Treggiari. My final note of thanks, the saddest to record, is to the one who offered the sternest and most profitable comments, but who, alas, can no longer receive this token of gratitude: to Sir Moses Finley. the nuclear-family group.1 What is more, the hiatus between the concept of family and its actual practice seems to have widened during the period of the later empire; at least our perception of the distinction as it is reflected in the source materials is considerably sharpened. More than ever before, sentiments, actions and obligations were tied to the kinship core of the family, whereas the terminology for the family itself was concentrated more intensely on the wider conception of the extended household. To a certain extent the problem may result from the very pronounced class bias in our literary sources which predominantly reflect upper-class ideals and practices. Never- theless an obvious question arises regarding the persistence of the apparent contradiction between practice and ideology. A way out of the impasse would be to examine, in as much detail as possible, the relationships in the kinship core of the family, and their connections to adjacent elements of the Roman familia, and to concentrate the investigation on the critical period of the later empire when the contradiction between idea and practice was becoming most apparent. For this enquiry, it would be best to select a series of firsthand witnesses, of Christian derivation and from a similar regional background, who might take us some distance from the upper-class sources and ideas referred to above. The triad of Tertullian (c. 200), Cyprian (c. 250) and Augustine (c. 400) offers one of the most consistent data sets from the period that meets our stipulated con- ditions. But there are problems. Although Tertullian did write ex- plicitly on subjects relevant to the family, such as marriage, sexuality and the role of women, his works are rather disappointing for the social historian. Because his writings are so unremittingly prescriptive and normative in character, they offer little prospect of a bridge between idea and practice. Then again, we have little control over the perspective or place of the author himself. His background is only imperfectly known; it is best to admit that we can rescue very little about his origins or circumstances.2 Of the latter part of 1 For details of the argument advanced here, see B. D. Shaw, "Latin Funerary Epigraphy and Family Life in the Later Roman Empire", Historia, xxxiii (1984), pp. 457-97. The method used to evaluate the data for the later empire is that developed for a similar analysis of materials dating to the early empire: see R. P. Saller and B. D. Shaw, "Tombstones and Roman Family Relations in the Principate: Civilians, Soldiers and Slaves", Jl. Roman Studies, lxxiv (1984), pp. 124-56. On the concept of family, see R. P. Saller, "Familia, Domus and the Roman Conception of the Family", Phoenix, xxxviii (1984), pp. 336-55; B. D. Shaw, "The Concept of Family in the Later Roman Empire: Familia and Domus", forthcoming. 2 T. D. Barnes, Tertullian: A Historical and Literary Study, 2nd edn. (Oxford, 1985), chs. 2-4, 6, is the best critical approach to what has been an overly indulgent (cont. on p. 5) 4 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY Cyprian's life we are much better informed, but the information contains little that is germane to an enquiry on the family. And his writings are even less useful, more purely ideological, than are those of Tertullian.3 Therefore, although we can employ some of the data provided by Tertullian and Cyprian, we are compelled to use them sparingly and with caution, and mainly as an adjunct to a much more important and promising set of writings, those of Augustine. Although the massive corpus of Augustinian writings contains at least as much prescriptive material as is found in Tertullian and Cyprian, it also includes an important additional element of positive observation.4 In Augustine's works, especially in the sermons and homilies delivered to the common people (the plebs) of his congre- gation, in his verbal tracts and public exegeses of the Psalms and other biblical scriptures, and in his extensive correspondence, we find constant allusions to family life as lived by his parishioners and others in the region of Hippo Regius in north Africa. Often the exegetical comments in these writings were produced in order to interpret biblical statements in the light of the everyday experience (n. 2 cont.) tradition. He, at least, is willing to face the hard fact: we know virtually nothing of a biographical nature about Tertullian that is useful to an understanding of his writings. L. Stager, Das Leben im romischen Afrika im Spiegel der Schriften Tertullians (Zurich, 1973), is pedestrian, but provides basic references to the few data directly relevant to our enquiry that can be extracted from Tertullian's works. 3 See, for example, V. Saxer, Vie liturgique et quotidienne a Carthage vers le milieu du Ile siecle (Rome, 1969), chs. 7-8. One could analyse this sort of normative material endlessly, but if no point of contact is struck between it and actual behaviour the analysis tends to reduce to a history of ideas. See, for example, S. Ozment, When Fathers Ruled: Family Life in Reformation Europe (Cambridge, Mass., 1983) for an illustration of the problems involved. Ozment's analysis is both competent and detailed, but excessive dependence on purely normative source materials, with little external control or internal criticism of them, leaves the reader dubious and uncertain as to the real practice of the ideas he describes. 4 The truly mountainous bibliography of studies on Augustine - surely one of the most studied individuals from all antiquity - would seem to guarantee that the data on family in his writings would already have been exploited many times over. Such does not seem to be the case. Apart from some brief "social history" asides found in the standard biographies, there has been surprisingly little use of these data. This very rich source of information remains almost wholly untouched by social historians. What is presented here, therefore, is only a small indication of what could be done - the results, as it were, of a premier sondage. General works that were of some use include: M. Madeleine, The Life of the North Africans as Revealed in the Sermons of St. Augustine (Washington, D.C., 1931); M. E. Keenan, The Life and Times of St. Augustine as Revealed in his Letters (Washington, D.C., 1935); F. van der Meer, Augustinus de Zielzorger (Utrecht, 1949), trans. B. Battershaw and G. R. Lamb as Augustine the Bishop (London, 1961; repr. 1978); cf. French trans. Saint Augustin, pasteur d'dmes (Paris, 1955; repr. 1959), a rather ethereal appreciation prefiguring the tone and approach of P. Brown, Augustine of Hippo (London, 1967); and A. G. Hamman, La vie quotidienne en Afrique du Nord au temps de Saint Augustin (Paris, 1979), esp. pt. I. 5 of the common people of his parish. Often, too, Augustine's quasi- normative statements have greater value for the social historian than do those of Tertullian or Cyprian, precisely because he gives us enough context to understand the operative assumptions that lie behind them - aspects Augustine assumes to be true of his own society that allow the normative values to have a function. The evidence used in this enquiry is therefore drawn overwhelmingly from those works that tend to report and to comment rather than to advise and exhort: the letters and those parts of his sermons and commentaries on scripture where he is attempting to communicate to his listeners by drawing on what he assumes to be common experiences of their everyday life. The sermons, especially, are a rather direct access to the immediacy of that life, given the fact that they seem to be, for the most part, transcripts of addresses delivered largely ex tempore by Augustine to his congregation at Hippo, marked by frequent on-the-spot digressions and asides on current concerns.5 Material of an overtly theological nature has purposefully been avoided. Of course, all observations and reports are interpretations and, given Augustine's dominant Christian ideology, hardly any statement of his escapes some of that influence. It is never possible in such cases to build an "air-tight" hermeneutics. But surely that is not the point. Augustine offers us an incomparable opportunity to achieve a better understanding of our subject, and the attempt is probably worth while on that basis alone. What is more, the Augusti- nian corpus is especially valuable because of a singular quality of its author. Whatever other caveats may be made in respect of his work, no one would care to deny that Augustine himself was an acute observer of his world, and one with a sympathy finely attuned to a whole range of human behaviour relevant to our subject, from the learning experiences of infants to feelings of love, fear, hatred and envy that motivated their parents. This body of data is also substantiated by another that is wholly absent in the cases of Tertullian and Cyprian: Augustine's account of his upbringing - the reflections on his own family life in the Confessions (written c. 397-401).6 Especially in respect of this autobi- 5 See R. J. Deferrari, "St. Augustine's Method of Composing and Delivering Sermons", Classical Philology, xliii (1929), pp. 97-123; 193-219; M. Le Landais, "Deux annees de predication de Saint Augustine, v: dictee ou predication?", in H. Rondet et al., Etudes Augustiniennes (Paris, 1953), pp. 38-48. 6 Most of the extant scholarly work on family life in the Confessions is unfortunately marred by a strain of pseudo-psychological musing that is of no historical value; even worse, if that is possible, are the theologically oriented interpretations. Neither sort of secondary literature will be referred to in this paper. 6 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY ography, however, there must be a note of caution: not a word of Augustine's writings survives (perhaps intentionally so) from the period before his move towards conversion to Christianity (that is, in the years just before A.D. 386/7). All the formative years of his life up to the age of thirty, when he was part of his parents' family, are therefore seen through the prism of a later ideological commitment that profoundly distorted his conception of his own earlier life. Nevertheless these later reflections, going back to some of his earliest extant writings such as the de Beata Vita (386), allow us an unparal- leled insight into the family life of one man in late antiquity. To a certain extent, Augustine's recollections can also be checked against knowledge of structural aspects of the Roman family derived from external sources, and against his own observations and assumptions about the family lives of his parishioners when he was priest (from 391) and later bishop (from 395/6) of Hippo Regius. But if we are to rely so heavily on the perspective of one man and his life, we must ask what sort of representative he is. Notorious dangers of historiography attend when a society is analysed through the relations and perceptions of a single individual.7 First of all, if our perspective is derived from the viewpoint of one man in late antique society, we must be aware of how biased it will be in one obvious way: it will reflect a predominant male ideology of the world, though, to be sure, a world in which this ideology was both conceived and acted upon in a society where power was primarily male-directed.8 That very big and continuing problem aside, there still remain those factors that 7 See, for example, A. Macfarlane, The Family Life of Ralph Josselin: A Seventeenth- Century Clergyman (Cambridge, 1970); and the criticisms of E. P. Thompson, "Anthro- pology and the Discipline of Historical Context", Midland Hist., i (1972), pp. 41-55. In spite of the criticisms, the data can be used in a justifiable way: K. Wrightson, English Society, 1580-1680 (London, 1982), pp. 45 f., 102 f. Most objections, including Thompson's, relate to Macfarlane's abuse of the data. Dependence on single-case representatives is indeed open to such pitfalls: consider P. Gay, Education of the Senses, I: The Bourgeois Experience: Victoria to Freud (Oxford, 1983), and the problems related to the extensive use of the case of Mabel Loomis Todd. If we are to study anything other than statistical contours of structural aspects of the family, however, we will have to depend on individual cases. If placed in context, with firm indications of their social parameters, they need not be statistically representative in order to offer useful perspectives to the historian; cf. the use of Samuel Pepys and James Boswell by L. Stone, The Family, Sex and Marriage in England, 1500-1800 (New York, 1977), chs. 11.2, 6. 8 The absence of equivalent mention of daughters or sisters in Augustine's perspec- tive of the family, for example, is a notable instance of this cultural blindness. They are "invisible people" in his view, but perhaps only to the degree to which they were actually subordinated in the power structure of the family? 7 made Augustine a peculiar man of his times. Where, then, are we to place him in the matrix of late Roman society? Most significant for our purposes is the oft-repeated assertion that Augustine came from a poor family.9 The evaluation seems to be provoked more by a dominant esoteric and theological Augustinian- ism than by any critical historical judgement. Perhaps Augustine's background was "poor" when seen from the perspective of the towering fortunes accumulated by the upper classes in the later empire (that of a Petronius Probus, for example, or of a Melania). But when viewed in the social context of its place, the provincial town of Thagaste, Augustine's family was certainly not poor. His parents were of good social standing (honesti) and were from the ranks of the local ruling order, the curiales.10 In a late Roman municipality like Thagaste this status hardly guaranteed the possession of massive wealth or power; but the rank surely suggests that Augustine's father Patricius is to be located in the uppermost echelons of local society in terms of his wealth. The bottom end of the social spectrum of curiales was, admittedly, composed of men of modest wealth; necessarily so, given the steeply attenuated distribution of property in most regions of the Roman world. Large amounts of land around Thagaste would have been in the hands of the emperor, absentee upper-class landlords who were not susceptible to local municipal burdens (for example, in this case, Melania) and a few of the local powerful. But Patricius had fields spread about the town, his house had numerous specialized slaves in it, and he was able and, more impor- tant, had the disposition to pay for a higher education for his sons - 9 Brown, Augustine of Hippo, pp. 21 f.; Hamman, Vie quotidienne en Afrique du Nord, p. 100, are typical; also characteristic is J. J. O'Meara, The Young Augustine: An Introduction to the Confessions of St. Augustine (London, 1954; repr. New York, 1980), who unsuccessfully attempts to make compatible the evidence of Patricius' wealth and the claim to poverty; he is finally compelled to admit that the family belonged to "the upper classes" and was "out of sympathy with the majority of Numidians" (pp. 25-8). The trend is continued in G. Bonner, St. Augustine of Hippo: Life and Controversies (London, 1963; repr. New York, 1985), p. 37; and, more recently, by H. Chadwick, Augustine (Oxford, 1986), pp. 6, 32: Patricius was "far from being rich"; Augustine came from "a relatively impecunious provincial family". 10 Possidius, VitaAug. 1 (PL, 32, 33). Hereafter all references to the source materials will use the following standard abbreviations: PL = Patrologiae cursus completus, series Latina, ed. J. P. Migne, 221 vols. (Paris, 1844-64); CSEL = Corpus Scriptorunm Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum (Vienna, 1866 and continuing); CCL = Corpus Christiano- rum, series Latina (Turnhout, 1953 and continuing). If a CCL edition exists reference is made to it alone, failing that to CSEL or, failing either of these, to the Migne edition. All translations from the original texts are mine. 8 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY something that very few other fathers in the district could do.11 It is often claimed that a season's delay in the young Augustine's edu- cation, apparently compelled by a constricted family budget in that year, is a sure sign of the family's poverty. But this is hardly so. In the agrarian economy that was at the base of Patricius' household, lean years were a recurrent phenomenon which produced periodic liquidity problems even for moderately well-off landowners. In these circumstances, hard cash to be dispensed for a son's formal education was hardly a high priority. In tendentious and committed argument Augustine was later to claim that he came from a poor family, but the statement is made in a context that must make one suspicious of its truth value.12 Moreover, in referring to the bequest of his paternal inheritance (or a large part of it) to the church at Thagaste, Augustine states that the gift represented about a twentieth of the church's total landed wealth. We do not know exactly what the total was, but by late 411 the church had benefited from a century of considerable bequests by patrons, including the immense gifts of land and other property made by the younger Melania in the preceding year. Augus- tine's portion of his paternal inheritance (shared with at least one brother and one sister) was therefore hardly inconsequential. An inheritance of that size, to which must be added those of Augustine's siblings, gives us some conception of the size of the original patrimony that must have constituted Patricius' undivided estate.13 What is more, the clear impression gained from reading about Augustine's paternal estates, and those of his peers, is not one of poverty but rather of substance. We must therefore remove Augustine from the ranks of the poor. He was from a family that was part of the "curial class", though perhaps the lower end of it. Such a subdecurial family may well have been experiencing some of the acute fiscal pressures that were being exerted on the group as a whole at this time.14 If true, then Augustine 11 Confess. 2.3.5 (CCL, 27, 19-20); cf. 6.7.11 (CCL, 27, 80-1). 12 Serm. 356.13 (PL, 39, 1579-80); see the edition of C. Lambot, Sancti Augustini sermones selecti duodeviginti (Utrecht, 1950), pp. 140-1, where Augustine speaks of himself as a poor man (homo pauper) born to poor parents (de pauperibus natus). The context is a struggle between Augustine and some of his subordinate clergy over the place of property in the church at Hippo. The statement has been taken at face value at least since Migne's introductory biography (PL, 32, 66). 13 Ep. 126.7 (CSEL, 44, 13). 14 G. E. M. de Ste. Croix, The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek World (London, 1981), pp. 467 ff., an interpretation of materials found in A. H. M. Jones, The Later Roman Empire, 284-602: A Social, Economic and Administrative Survey (Oxford, 1964), pp. 737-57. 9 was indeed a marginal man in danger of being "squeezed" down- wards, but who had a rare opportunity for escape from his local surroundings - perhaps the ideal candidate for a conversion. Thus Augustine can be seen in his own life as representative of the lower ranks of a regional upper class. This simple observation, however, means that our best witness for the period does not reflect family life as lived by the vast majority of the inhabitants of the region from which he came. These aspects of plebeian family life, however, can be glimpsed in the vignettes, allusions, explanations and inadvertent asides about the common people of his world that pepper the bishop's writings. Concerning his own family, we are also reasonably well informed by these same sources. But in them we also perceive the contrast between the idea and the reality of family referred to at the beginning of this paper. His own experience of family relations was concentrated overwhelmingly on the rather narrow circle of his mother and father, his siblings and his own child. Notices of persons outside this group are rather rare; they include the chance mention of some nieces, a nephew and two cousins, each case being alluded to in passing only once.15 For all that, nuclear-family relations were most definitely not Augustine's idea of "family". As an entree to Augustine's world of family relations we might begin by attempting to grasp his conception of the family as a part of the whole social order. In traditional formal thought the household had been considered the irreducible unit of society. Below it were only isolated individuals; out of it arose all more complex groups, culminating in the state. Such a schematic location of the house had already been given conscious expression by Aristotle some seven to eight centuries earlier. More directly influential on Augustine's formal thinking were Stoic ideas. According to Stoic ideology, the household, however artificial its formation, had come to be accepted as a part of the natural order of society as a whole, represented at its pinnacle by the state. Although Augustine did accept this place of the house and conception of natural order, it would be a mistake to leap to the conclusion that he also accepted the family as the irreducible building- block of society. In fact for him the atom of society was not the "family", but the union of man and woman; it was the joining (copula, copulatio) of man and wife that represented the seed-bed of state and 15 See the notices in the standard reference works: J. R. Martindale et al., The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, II: A.D. 395-527 (Cambridge, 1980); A. Mandouze, Prosopographie chretienne du Bas-Empire, I: Afrique, 303-533 (Paris, 1982). 10 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY society. 16 The household was a higher-level part of the natural order stemming from the biological/creative powers of men and women. The latter copulatio was subordinate to the power flowing down through the social order, through the household, which dictated the relationships in it: the husband above the wife, the parents over the children. 17 This conception of family receives perhaps its fullest expression in the nineteenth book of the City of God, which contains a discussion of the origins of the power and role of the paterfamilias. First, the household comprehends all those under paternal authority, including children and slaves. Sons and slaves are distinguished by the critical factor of heirship (that is, their access to family wealth).18 However much sons might be subject to servile punishment by the father, or even by the father's slaves, it was the proprietorial fact of the inherit- ance that separated them from slaves.19 In this sense, the terms domus (household) and familia ("family") seem to overlap considerably, if they are not actually synonymous.20 Secondly, the role of the father which defines the household is a power relationship: he dominates because he must enforce the peace of the household to ensure its harmony. He achieves this goal in the first instance by the infliction of corporal punishment.21 The household is thus seen primarily as a 16 Civ. Dei, 15.16.3 (CSEL, 40.2, 95): "Therefore the joining (copulatio) of male and female, in so far as it pertains to humankind, is the seed-bed (seminarium) of the state/society (civitas)"; cf. de Bono Coniug. 1.1 (CSEL, 41, 187): "The natural origin of human society is the joining of man and wife". Both passages are heavily Stoic in tone; cf. Cicero, de Off., 1.17.54: "The origin of society is in the joining (coniugium) of man and woman, next in children, then in the household (una domus), all things held in common; this is the foundation (principium) of the city and, so to speak, the seed-bed of the state (seminarium rei publicae)". In phrasing his conception in this way, Augustine was also following the Roman-law definition of marriage: "Marriage is the joining (coniunctio) of male and female" (Dig. 23.2.1). The claim is made in virtually every modern text on the subject that Augustine holds "the family" to be the fundamental unit of society; but in his own terms he does not. The sort of tradition from which his thinking is derived, as can be seen in the Cicero passage, conceived of a series of steps leading from the "copulation" of man and woman, through children, then the domus, to the state. The need to claim that Augustine holds "the family" to be the essential natural unit of society is a false one demanded by modern ideological positions, principally those espoused by certain churches. 17 Civ. Dei, 19.16 (CSEL, 40.2, 401); cf. Quaest. in Hept. 1.153 (CCL, 33, 59). 18 Civ. Dei, 19.16 (CSEL, 40.2, 401). 19 In real life, as well; see En. Psalm. 117.13 (CCL, 40, 1662): "Often a father orders his sons to be punished by his wickedest slaves; he is preparing the inheritance for the former, the leg irons for the latter". 20 Civ. Dei, 19.16 (CSEL, 40.2, 401). 21 Civ. Dei, 19.16 (CSEL, 40.2, 402): "If anyone in the household (domus) who sets himself against the domestic peace (domesticapax) by his disobedience is corrected, by word or by whip (seu verbo seu verbere) or by any other just and legal type of (cont. on p. 12) 11 microcosm of the regimen of discipline and punishment that is part of a whole web of social control. The peace of the family has a direct relationship to the "civic peace" of the state. The father has to fill the role of disciplinarian and owner (that is, one who dominates) so that the household might fit into the wider social order.22 The sceptical reader might properly object that this is just so much theory, and heavily derivative at that. For the social historian, however, derivative thinking is not as great an impediment as it is for the historian of ideas. The continuity of traditional ideas can be quite useful to life in the real world. How then are we to make sense of what Augustine has to say, since he clearly sees the household in rather traditional terms: as a network of power relations extending downwards through the father of the family? To assess the meaning of these conceptions in his mind we must first see if his conceptions of domus and familia are themselves traditional. For Augustine familia generally has a very strong proprietory sense, and therefore encompassed all things in the ownership or "domination" of the father, including slaves. Familia was one of those material or quasi-material things which every good proprietor strove to increase; it is included in standard lists where other such goods are gold, silver, land, fine clothes, cattle, clients and honours.23 That idea was not just theoretical, but was rooted in Augustine's observation of the psychological drive of men to possess goods such as wives, sons, male and female slaves, clothes, houses, and so on.24 Tertullian shared this view, and is explicit on the proprietorial significance offamilia. Selecting a list of unmarried and childless men typical of the Roman world - the soldier, the eunuch and the celibate bachelor - he states that these men too have their own "families", though not, from his moralizing perspective, as fertile and productive (n. 21 cont.) punishment to the extent allowed by society, it is for the benefit (utilitas) of the one who is corrected, that he might be returned to the peace from which he has broken". 22 Civ. Dei, 19.16 (CSEL, 40.2, 402): "The conclusion is sufficiently clear that the peace of the household (pax domestica) relates to the peace of the state (pax civica); that is to say, that the ordered harmony of ruling and obedience of those living together in the same house (cohabitantes) refers to the ordered harmony of ruling and obedience of citizens (cives) in the state. Consequently, it follows that the father, in considering the rules by which he might rule his own household (domus sua), should adopt those of the state, so that his house will fit in with the peace of the state". 23 En. Psalm. 32.ii.15 (CCL, 38, 265); 70.i.16 (CCL, 39, 953); 137.8 (CCL, 40, 1983); 143.18 (CCL, 40, 2085-6); Serm. 14.4.4 (CCL, 41, 187); 20.4 (CCL, 41, 266); 311.13 (PL, 38, 1418); In Ep. Iohann. ad Parth. 3.11 (PL, 35, 2003). 24 Serm. 297.5.8 (PL, 38, 1362); En. Psalm. 143.18 (CCL, 40, 2085-6); and n. 23 above. 12 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY as those of married men.25 At the other end of the spectrum of meaning, familia merges with domus or household. In this sense the conception of domus included the extended aristocratic lineage, the illustrious or noble family, such as that of the Anicii.26 But domus itself extended in meaning from this network of personal and property relations to the physical structure of the house itself. This house(hold) was linked both physically by its placement, and more abstractly through its paternal head, to the state, the "home town". Thus one identified in turn with one's paterna domus and one's patria.27 Otherwise the meanings could overlap completely even within the same context: one could say that when a father fell ill he returned to his physical house (domus) to be tended, but in illness he continued to manage the affairs of the house (domus) in the sense of his household.28 Domus, therefore, could narrow in meaning to household in the seemingly limited sense of the physical structure built for its inhabi- tants.29 But the constriction in meaning is probably only apparent for us; it probably did not exist for those men because of the metaphoric associations that stemmed from the simple mention of the physical home. Merely to have a domus implied that one also had a familia, and vice versa. Boarders (inquilini), for example, were distinguished by the fact that they themselves did not have a domus, but merely lived in one; in substance, they were seen as persons detached from households.30 The house was also integrally connected with one's social standing; honour was judged from the domus itself, and its decor. The mere sight of a magnificent domus, like fine clothing, was a sufficient guarantee that the inhabitant was of high social rank.31 Simple things mattered a lot: the more elaborate your drapery, the greater your honour.32 And, just as important, the house and its physical artefacts, things as mundane as drinking-cups, could 25 Tertullian, de Cast. 12.3. 26 Ep. 150 (CSEL, 44, 381). 27 Confess. 4.4.9 (CCL, 27.44). 28 En. Psalm. 102.6 (CCL, 40, 1456). 29 Annot. ad Job, 2.7 (CSEL, 28.2, 565); En. Psalm. 32.ii.20-1 (CCL, 38, 268-9; connecting the habitaculum with the hereditas); Tract. 10 in Iohann. 9. (CCL, 36, 105- 6); Tract. 37 in Iohann. 8 (CCL, 36, 336); Serm. 219 (PL, 38, 1088). Some references among many; see also Ep. 29.5, 39.2, 65, 99, 115, 122.2. 30 See nn. 40-2 below. 31 En. Psalm. 32.ii.12, 18 (CCL, 38, 263, 267-8); cf. Serm. 302.21.19 (PL, 38, 1392). 32 Serm. 51.4.5 (PL, 38, 336); cf. En. Psalm. 25.ii.12 f. (CCL, 38, 149 f.); one could act excessively in this respect, however; one had to beware "lest you decorate your house like a new whorehouse": see Tertullian, de Idol. 5.11 (CCL, 2, 1117) and ad Uxor. 1.8.3 (CCL, 1, 392). 13 provide a family continuity that could not be attained by actual demographic succession.33 Augustine's conception of family and household also carried with it a strong sense of co-residence of the persons involved.34 But as we know from many modern studies on the subject of the pre-industrial family in the west, residence (Augustine's cohabitantes) could take many forms and hardly necessitated all persons literally living under the same roof.35 So just how far did the household extend? Augustine certainly included the familia of slaves and dependants attached to the kin-core of the household. An incident in the Confessions makes clear just how integral that connection was. Augustine reports that a free-born member of a house (una domus) might see a slave touching something which they themselves are not permitted to touch; they then feel indignant. Although there is a single dwelling (habitaculum) and one family (unafamilia), not everyone is allowed to go everywhere in it. Since the report is made from the vantage point of a free-born child in the kin-core of the house, it is clear that slaves too were regarded as wholly part of the larger familia that lived in the same house.36 The core household, then, consisted of a restricted number of elements (huband/father, wife/mother, children and slaves), all of which had to stand in a firm hierarchical relationship to each other and to perform their proper role in order for there to be a proper and therefore peaceful and happy house.37 As we move away from the kin-core and a clearly defined set of dependants like chattel slaves, however, we do not find any clear dividing line between the mother- father-child(ren) triad and the rest. For example, when speaking of the hatreds and divisions between kin that are exacerbated by 33 For example, Serm. 17.7.7 (CCL, 41, 242); portraits (tabula picta) of the owner "in his house" appear to have been common among the higher social ranks; Augustine condemns them as ad vanum honorem tuum: Serm. 9.10.15 (CCL, 41, 137): you feel hurt when people throw stones at them. 34 See Civ. Dei, 19.16, cited in n. 22 above; Serm. 170.4 (PL, 38, 929): "the inhabitants of a house (domus habitatores) are said to be the household (domus) . . . since we do not call walls and the holding-places of bodies a household, but rather the inhabitants themselves"; a domus is defined as a place of permanent habitation: "a house (domus) is said to be that place where we reside permanently": En. Psalm. 26.ii.6 (CCL, 38, 157). As such its recognition was manifest: "Who does not recognize/ know the world about them? The world is the world, just as a house (domus) is a house (domus); a house (domus) in its construction (fabrica), a house(hold) (domus) in its inhabitants (habitatores)": Serm. 342.3 (PL, 39, 1503), reminiscent of Gertrude Stein. 35 M. Mitterauer and R. Sieder, The European Family, trans. K. Oosterveen and M. Horzinger (Chicago, 1982), pp. 18 f. 36 Confess. 3.7.13 (CCL, 27, 34); cf. Serm. 21.6-7 (Sirmond 20; CCL, 41, 281-2). 37 En. Psalm. 136.5 (CCL, 40, 1967); Serm. 152.4 (PL, 38, 821). 14 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY conversion from traditional beliefs to Christianity or between different Christian beliefs, a typical conflict Augustine notes is that between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, both of whom are "in the same house" (in una domo).38 The mother-in-law/daughter-in-law tension was also present in Augustine's own family during his youth. Soon after Monnica married Patricius, she encountered a mother-in-law who was hostile to her. Meddlesome slave women were blamed for the tension and dislike, but that seems more like a convenient "explanation" for a problem that was inherent in many households. Monnica bore up well in the travail, displaying tolerance and obsequi- ousness. The mother-in-law finally intervened and asked her son to discipline the slave women who were disturbing the "family peace" (pax domestica). Patricius then moved to restore family discipline (familia disciplina) and the balance of relationships in the kin family (the concordia suorum): he whipped the slaves.39 But the household or domus not only embraced close affinal relatives and domestic slaves; it could also include direct dependants other than slaves. As in many agrarian societies, including those based on an economic symbiosis of slave and peasant, the family also encompassed the world of boarders and lodgers. Boarders were itinerant or migrant labourers who attached themselves to the house of their new master or the farm owner who commanded their work. Since the migrant was on the move, by definition he lacked a home, a habitation, and by default became a member of the household where he stayed. As we have already seen, permanent residence formed a substantial part of the definition of a household.40 Not having his own domus, the boarder or inquilinus was compelled to 38 En. Psalm. 44.11 (CCL, 38, 502): "The same situation sets the daughter against her mother, and, even more, the daughter-in-law (nurus) against her mother-in-law (socer). For sometimes in the same household (in una domo) a daughter-in-law and mother-in-law are found, the one a heretic, the other a catholic". 39 Confess. 9.9.20 (CCL, 27, 145-6). 40 On residence, see nn. 22, 34 above. Since boarders are an almost wholly unstudied aspect of Roman social relations, no secondary literature is yet available on the subject. An investigation into the term as it is used in the later law codes has been made by P. Rosafio, "Inquilinus", Opus, iii (1984), pp. 121-31, who points out that the inquilinus was distinguished from the tied-farmer (colonus) by the fact that his identity had to be traced by his kinship relations (his agnatio) rather than the place where he lived (his origo). See En. Psalm 60.6 (CCL, 39, 768-9): inquilini are connected to the domus; they are not given mansiones which are only granted to permanent residents or cives. Inquilini were only temporary dwellers; see En. Psalm. 38.21 (CCL, 38, 420-1), for an inquilinus as a person on the move: "The place where I remain permanently is called my home (domus mea); when I migrate I become an inquilinus. I am an inquilinus of my God with whom I will remain, once I have received a house (domo accepta) from him". 15 live in that of another, and so became identified with his new house.41 It seems that these arrangements were not contractual in any legal sense, but reposed on the letting of a house or part of it to the lodger under tenuous conditions in which his master or dominus could simply expel him or order him to leave. The contract reposed more on the traditional social foundation of hospitium than it did on the strictly juridical basis of rent.42 In a vertical sense one must also suspect that elders (that is, grandparents) were thought of as part of the household, although Augustine never says so explicitly. Elders appear consistently in the context of childhood education, and as such were closely allied to the biological parents of the children.43 The child was subject to their auctoritas as he was to that of his parents; both carefully follow his upbringing and, in Augustine's case, laugh at the beatings he received in school.44 Laterally the household contained not only the wife but also the concubine. Although Augustine, as part of his Christian teaching, inveighed untiringly in the harshest terms against having both a wife and a concubine, clearly this idea was not shared by many men, and certainly did not reflect their practice (nor that of Augustine himself before his conversion).45 Augustine reports a conversation (perhaps imagined) with one of his parishioners; he thunders against the man's possession of both wife and concubine; the latter, he says, is no better than a common prostitute. The man is confused by this newfangled idea, and upset by the bishop's intrusion into his family life. He angrily retorts to Augustine with the question, "Am I not permitted to do what I want in my own household?".46 41 En. Psalm. 118.viii.1 (CCL, 40, 1684): "Inquilini do not have their own house (domus propria), but live in another's household; temporary residents (incolae) and strangers (advenae), on the other hand, are treated as foreigners (adventitii)". 42 En. Psalm. 148.11 (CCL, 40, 2174): "You are an inquilinus, not the owner of a house (possessor domus); that house has been rented, not given, to you. Even if you are unwilling, you will have to move on, you did not receive the house on the condition that a fixed time in it would be guaranteed to you. What does your master say? 'When I decide, when I say, you go; you had better be ready to hit the road. I am expelling you from my hospitality, but I'll at least give you a (parting) gift'. Here on earth you are an inquilinus, but in Heaven you will be an owner (possessor)"; cf. Tertullian, ad Uxor. 2.4.1 (CCL, 1, 1295). 43 Confess. 1.6.8, 1.7.11 (CCL, 27, 4, 6). 44 Confess. 1.8.13, 1.9.15 (CCL, 27, 7-9). 45 For example, Serm. 132.4 (PL, 38, 734-7); 392.2 (PL, 39, 1710). 46 Serm. 224.3 (PL, 38, 1095): "If she [that is, your wife] has just one man, namely yourself, why do you want two women? But you say 'My slave woman is my concubine. Would you prefer that I violate another man's wife? Would you prefer that I rush to the public prostitute? Or are you saying that I am not permitted to do what I want in my own house (in domo mea)?'. I say to you, 'It is not permitted. Men who do this go to hell, and will burn in eternal fire.' ". 16 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY But household links do not seem to have ceased absolutely even within these bounds. The enmeshing of the household into a broader hierarchy of domination, a network extending outwards from the kin- core through slaves and clients, and further outwards through friends and neighbours, to the community, is a constant of Augustine's world. In the aftermath of the brutal lynching of an imperial official at Hippo by popular action, Augustine delivered a monitory sermon to his people that provides insight into these social networks and the place of the domus in them. Augustine begins with the problem of how such unbridled popular power is to be disciplined and restrained. It is not possible for individuals to do much, he admits; but each man in respect of his own household (in domo sua) is able to discipline his sons, slaves, friends, neighbours, clients and children. In some cases "persuasion" will be required, but those who are under the direct power of the household head are to be dealt with severely. Naturally, Augustine saw Christian ideology as having a role to play, but it was made operational by each household unit. It only functioned if each household head restrained his slave and his son, and if the severity of the father, the paternal uncle, the teacher, the good neighbour and elders was able to tame (domaret) the youth.47 The domus is thus set at the nexus of strands of relationships at once extending into it (for example, over sons and slaves) and outwards from it (for example, to friends and neighbours). In this sense the house represented the core operative unit of the society. It was through the domus that Christianity penetrated the society, and it was the domus as a whole that later suffered punishment for serious transgressions of Christian regulations.48 The familial polity of the household was therefore the primal social unit, a miniature locus of power in the whole of society.49 The cycle of punishment and social control emanating from the father extended from him inwards into the house, and outwards to those proximate to it; and it was exerted on him from outside, whence he was expected to transmit it into his house. Does he see someone going to the theatre or off to get drunk? If the man is a friend, he is to be warned in an amicable way; if it is his wife, she is to be reined in harshly. His slave woman? She is to be compelled with the whip. 47 Serm. 302.21.19 (PL, 38, 1392). 48 Ep. 191.2 (CSEL, 57, 164); cf. Ep. 250.1-2 (CSEL, 57, 593-6) for punishment. 49 Ep. 200.2 (CSEL, 57, 294), where Augustine remarks to Valerius, the comes Africae, that his house is a core of power: "how much your house (domus tua) is a refuge and solace to the holy, and a terror to unbelievers". 17 Each man, says Augustine, is responsible in respect of his own household (in domo sua) for his friend, for the boarder (inquilinus), for the client and for those who are older and those who are younger.50 Paternal authority is coercive, but within the bounds of the house it is balanced by a counter-ideology of love. Each man in his own house (in domo sua) especially disciplines his wife and subjugates her when she fights back, he domesticates his son (filium tuum domas) so that he is obedient to him and, finally, he punishes his slaves. But in all cases it is punishment and love.51 Paternal severity is supposed to be counterbalanced by charity and love; both extend across a network of relationships which linked those inside the family to those outside: from father and husband to wife, concubine, children, brothers, neighbours, relatives and friends.52 What emerges clearly from this matrix of positive and normative statements in Augustine is that the household head, the father/ husband, is located in a pivotal position: he was at once the person who linked the family to other families in the society, who felt and transmitted external social pressures to his family, and the person who was to maintain control over the members of his own family, especially over his wife, his sons and his slaves. Both factors conduced to isolate the father. If there had existed genuine lines of agnatic successors in the society, they would have mitigated the isolation somewhat by diffusing these pressures vertically. Although there are references to be found in Augustine to a three-generational depth in families (avus, pater-filius, nepotes, pronepotes), these rarely suggest that all three coexist; almost all are restricted to the pious wish and hope for such familial continuity.53 Furthermore, elders seem to be rather distant in actual family contexts remarked upon by Augustine. He never mentions any of them by name, and they seem only to have had an effective existence for the early childhood of the son. Indeed he contrasts his own father, whom he knew because he often saw him, with his grandfather whom he never saw.54 Whereas it is true 50 Tract. 10 in Iohann. 9 (CCL, 36, 105-6). 51 For example, de Utilit. leiun. 4.5 (CCL, 46, 235). 52 Serm. 349.2 (PL, 39, 1530). 53 Locut. in Hept. 1.107 (CCL, 33, 391); Princip. Dialect. (PL, 32, 494); and, more concretely, Annot. in Job, 39 (PL, 34, 887); En. Psalm. 127.2-3 (CCL, 40, 1869-70; may you have sons and grandsons so that your domus might rejoice); En. Psalm. 48.i. 15 (CCL, 38, 563; continuity should not be sought at death in your monumentum, but rather in sons, grandsons and great grandsons). 54 De Musica, 6.11.32 (PL, 32, 1130): "I think about my father whom I often saw quite differently from my grandfather whom I never saw". It is significant that he uses this example, in the context of discussing a complex philosophical problem, as a general illustration which he believes most persons will readily understand. 18 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY that maiores could provide a background of auctoritas and could take over in lieu of parents, they only seem to be present at this stage of the domestic cycle; they disappear completely from any subsequent post-infant stage as viewed from the perspective of the child.s5 Of all relationships within the domus the most dominant was clearly that between father and son, probably because the father-son relationship was the critical link in the continuity of the physical household. The father so organized his whole domus that he might have sons in order to be succeeded by them.56 In the first instance this succession was connected to biological reproduction; the father used his wife to procreate a son who would succeed him when he died.57 The father looked to sons not only to provide for themselves, but also to produce a third generation of the family. It was a matter of some concern. In the near-claustrophobic atmosphere of the house, secrecy and ignorance might cloud sexual knowledge. But there were forums outside the home. In a revelatory incident, the young Augustine went to the public baths at Thagaste with his father Patricius; there his father saw evidence of pubescence in his son's genitalia. He ran home in a veritable delirium to announce his son's manhood to his wife: a sure sign of future nepotes.58 But succession- that is, biological continuity - was inextricably bound up with a hard economic reality. For the vast majority of families this was the family farm. For a much smaller number in the towns themselves it might be a workplace or a small shop owned by the father. As in most so-called Third World countries today, sons were looked to not only to assume the domestic economic base but also to provide a sort of insurance for parents in their old age.59 This latter problem was a very real one; domestic ideology stressed that, if there was familial property, it was the first duty, above all others, for children to support their parents before friends and other relatives.60 But the most careful planning for biological succession could be struck down by sudden misfortune.61 55 Confess. 1.6.8, 1.7.11, 1.8.13, 1.9.15 (CCL, 27, 4-8). 56 En. Psalm. 25.ii.18 (CCL, 38, 164); cf. Tertullian, ad Uxor. 1.5.1 (CCL, 1, 378). 57 En. Psalm. 127.2 (CCL, 40, 1869; a wife is like a fertile vineyard in his domus - she will produce sons who will stand about the household table "like so many strong olive trees"); 127.15 (CCL, 40, 1878; the sons will succeed the father and may even live with him in old age); cf. Tract. 12 in Iohann. 5 (CCL, 36, 122 f.), though all the sections from 4 ff. are well worth reading. 58 Confess. 2.3.6 (CCL, 27, 20); Patricius then got roaring drunk in celebration. 59 En. Psalm. 70.ii.6 (CCL, 39, 965; with fearful reference to the delinquent son, and the problem of support in old age, subsedium senectutis). 60 Ep. 243.12 (CSEL, 57, 578-9); and, at some length, Serm. 276.1-2 (PL, 39, 2264). 61 Serm. 32.25 (CCL, 41, 409-10), quoting Psalms 143.12: "'He has many sons, many grandsons: he is secure from the misfortunes of death.' As if one disaster is not able to destroy many thousands of men". 19 The web of economic and psychological relationships in which the father and son were implicated is well illustrated by sentiments expressed openly on other occasions, as in the evocative words of a funerary inscription from Africa:62 "To Sergius Sulpicius, who was just beginning to leave behind his boyish years, and who, to the joy of his father, was obedient to the better side. A loving son, Festus by name, he was good by nature, the great hope of his father, endowed with qualities of total respect (obsequium) and a beautiful honesty. He loved his parents, and obeyed all their commands with wonderful duty. If only his father could have enjoyed such filial piety a little longer! Alas! It was a cruel and unmerited fate, a mournful thing for all, that he perished while not yet having enjoyed his sixteenth year, and ruined and bereaved his father, whose old age is now deprived of its cane". All the appropriate behaviours and values are stressed: the love, obedience, hard work, obsequium, honour and pietas of the son who was "the great hope" of his father, and who was to be his support, his "cane", in old age. In the final instance, it was the economic connection that mattered. Succession was a strategy of heirship such that father and son would not lose the property the father had so carefully acquired and tended through a lifetime of hard work.63 Just as in the words of this funerary epitaph, Augustine also reports that all hope was placed in sons, everything was saved so that it might be handed over to them. All actions were directed to this end; even those acts which might lead to accusations of hoarding and avarice on the part of the father could be defended under the rubric of pietas.64 The danger was that any type of property dispersal short of a post mortem transfer threatened the father's control both of his own goods and of his family. Paternal heads of families were therefore compelled to fall back on the device of hereditary succession, rather than forgo control of much of their land in their own lifetime.65 In 62 Corp. Inscrip. Lat. VIII, 9519 (Caesarea, Mauretania Caesariensis); only the first nine lines are translated here. 63 Tract. 7 in Iohann. 7 (CCL, 36, 69-71; the father establishes the hereditas for his son; the scenario is linked, as in the instances cited below, to the father's powers of punishment); cf. Liber de Medit. 3 (PL, 40, 903); Serm. 21.8 (Sirmond 20; CCL, 41, 284): "For what great end do you save your whole domus, if not for the little imploring child whom you lift on to your horse? All that you have, the domus and everything in the domus, and your fields and everything in them, you keep for him". 64En. Psalm. 131.19 (CCL, 40, 1921); cf. Serm. 9.20 (CCL, 41, 146-7); 32.25 (CCL, 41, 409-10); 60.3.3-4.4 (PL, 38, 403-4); 86.8.9 (PL, 38, 527); 90.10 (PL, 38, 566); 117.7 (PL, 38, 665), a frequent theme. 65 Serm. 156.15.17 (PL, 38, 858). Compare the situation well described and docu- mented by P. Greven, Four Generations: Population, Land and Family in Colonial Andover, Massachusetts (Ithaca, 1970), pp. 77-98, 137, 272 ff. 20 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY Augustine's world, paternal heads of households were understandably reluctant to relinquish control of properties in their own lifetime. Augustine reports that most parents thought that their sons obeyed them because of such economic constraints. Sometimes it was expedi- ent for sons to be emancipated for a specific purpose, such as marriage or holding of an office, in which case the parents gave the son a share of the family property. But a parent might sometimes balk at emancipation, saying "I will not give my son the property, for he will no longer obey me then".66 The critical link between father and son(s) was a strongly bilateral one: the father counted on sons to help continue the house and its property, but the sons were almost wholly dependent on the father for their future. This particular nexus of power, we are told repeatedly, generated very high expectations and demands on the part of the father. Indeed it produced an ideology of almost servile dependence and obedience from the sons: "You are a slave, obey your master; you are a son, obey your father" is a sentiment that is voiced again and again.67 The paternal expectation of obedience of this extreme type was matched, it seems, by a fear on the part of the sons, a fear which is compared to that of slaves for their masters.68 This timor, whether or not we would see it as predominantly psychological in tone, had a genuine basis. The sons' sole hope for the future was in their part of the inheritance, the family farm or their share of it. There are many indications of two possible dangers facing them. Sons could labour a lifetime and then because of some dispute or misdemeanour find themselves disinherited or otherwise cut off from family resources. That was an extreme case. The more usual one seems to have been a mental tension; for the lack of other choices in their world, sons had to obey and work hard, but with no certain knowledge of the treatment they would receive in the end.69 For the majority of peasant sons the alternatives to the domestic 66 See Serm. 45.2 (CCL, 41, 517); Augustine disapproves of the latter attitude, but nevertheless reports it. 67 En. Psalm. 18.2.6. (CCL, 38, 109); 32.ii.6 (CCL, 38, 252; from a good slave comes a good son); 70.i.2 (CCL, 39, 941; the only exception allowed by Augustine to obeying a father's order is when it conflicts with an order of God). 68 Serm. 297.2 (PL, 39,2314), where the two fears are paralleled, then distinguished: the slave's fear is of his master's torture, the son's is of his father's "love". 69 En. Psalm. 17.32 (CCL, 38, 99; sons hope for inheritance after long service); 60.7 (CCL, 39, 769-70; just as sons work to receive their parents' inheritance on their death, so Christians labour to receive the divine inheritance from their "father"); 32.ii.3-4 (CCL, 38, 248-9; where the dyad of punishment and inheritance reappears). 21 economy were few indeed. In this world there were no surrogate and economic opportunities to enable the children to form peer groups with their own norms and powers. The world of the school, where the magister stood as a stern disciplinarian in place of the father, was a stunted institution by comparison with the family, and open only to the better off. 70 The sons of the middling and wealthy families in the towns of the empire were exceptional in their ability to form such peer groups, often as condiscipuli. Frequently these groups of "aristocratic youths" (iuventus) were able to assert their own networks of power as Mohocks, terrorizing local townspeople with their viol- ence. What else was there for them to do? Even for them, the intense family networks that made up society foreclosed any genuine economic role outside it. One of the few other alternatives envisaged by Augustine to the harsh treatment of sons by fathers was one which, on occasion, led the former to prefer the expedient of selling themselves into temporary forms of "slavery" rather than to continue to face paternal maltreatment.71 But clearly this was a desperate option. For the vast numbers of sons of the less well off, the only substantial outside choice was the army. It did come to form a genuine institutional alternative: offering an independent economic base to the son, it threatened his father's power (both his paternal potestas, and his economic control: consider the peculium castrense). The reaction of the family to the threat of the army was correspondingly hostile.72 In the real world, therefore, it was the promise of receiving the paternal hereditas that kept the son working for the father. But sometimes the conditional and tentative nature of that promise fuelled a division between father and son which Augustine reports as a frequent occurrence among the inhabitants of his parish. It amounted to what Augustine saw as a generalized "natural dislike" between the two.73 So the father had to discipline, to domesticate his sons. This 70 Serm. 70.2 (PL, 38, 444). 71 Tract. in Ep. Ioh. 7.8, with S. Denis, 7.3, 21.4, on sons responding to the blandishments of mangones or slave dealers; an unusual set of texts, on which see S. Poque, Le langage symbolique dans la predication d'Augustin d'Hippone: images heroiques, 2 vols. (Paris, 1984), ii, p. 129. 72 Compare Apuleius, Metamorphoses, 2.18, 2.30 ff.; and Herodian, 7.43-5, with Augustine's student days at Carthage, ConJess. 2.3.8 ff.; relation of family to army, see Tertullian, de Corona, 11.1 (CCL, 2, 1056). 73 En. Psalm. 44.11 (CCL, 38, 501-2); such conflicts often worked their way out in the realm of religious preferences, as did the mother/daughter-father conflict, cf. Passio Sanctarum Perpetuae et Felicitatis, 3, 5 and the mother-in-law/daughter-in-law conflict, though the father-son bond was not as susceptible to this division: cf. En. Psalm. 44.11 (CCL, 38, 502). On natural dislike, Augustine remarks in the first passage, "It generally happens among humankind that the son is set against his father". 22 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY is remarked upon with great force and frequency in contexts that are not purely ideological. It is put in crude and straightforward terms: sons must be domesticated, just as one domesticates one's cattle (iumenta).74 Fathers therefore had to take pre-emptive action to discipline and "to domesticate" their sons (a word that appears frequently, as a cognate term with domus). That process began with a training of the son from birth, a training which inculcated in him a sense of shame such that he would blush to disobey. He would also learn to fear his father as a severe judge; if he was contumacious, the father should use verbal warnings and then the whip to inflict pain and suffering, all in the interest of the eventual good behaviour of the son.75 The uncertain threat presented by a potentially disobedient son meant that the verbal penalties led to the corporal ones; the resistance of the "insolent son" had to be disciplined with the whip. The "good" son was one who was prepared under the lash for receipt of his hereditas. Augustine states that the son should bear up under the "correcting hand" without complaint, lest he be disinherited. He does not say this without justification, for he also reports on parents who customarily rejected their "bad" children; and the "paternal whip" seems to have been a commonplace of everyday speech. That emphatic connection is hardly a coincidence. It has been noted, perspicaciously, that the whip is the near-universal symbol, and instrument, of domination in all slave societies known to historical research.76 The problems of discipline and domination, of the son and the slave, and the instrument of the whip, all merge together in a determination of the relationships of power within the late antique family. To achieve this discipline within the family, therefore, one finds constant allusion not only to the threat of disinheritance, but also to the use of physical punishment: the recourse to whippings, 74 En. Psalm. 31.ii.23 (CCL, 38, 241); Serm. 55.4.4 (PL, 38, 376); cf. Ep. 133.2 (CSEL, 44, 82-3; beating with rods is the common method employed by parents and schoolmasters, and by bishops in their courts), and 173.3 (CSEL, 44, 641-2; father's punishment of the son connected to his correction in all respects, including that of keeping him away from unacceptable religious beliefs). 75 Serm. 13.8.9 (CCL, 41, 182-3). 76 En. Psalm. 32.ii.3 (CCL, 38, 248-9; the "insulsus puer", and note the clear implications of force in both the terms corrigens and manus); for the paternal whip, see Annot. in Job, 38 (CSEL, 28.2, 600-1); En. Psalm. 118.xxxi.3 (CCL, 40, 1771), Serm. 21.8 (CCL, 41, 283-4); on the rejection of "bad" children, Ep. ad Galat. 39 (PL, 35, 2132): parents are accustomed to disown them. For the role of the whip in slave societies, see 0. Patterson, Slavery and Social Death: A Comparative Study (Cambridge, Mass., 1982), pp. 3-4. 23 especially for those "good" sons whom the father wished to have succeed himself. This unity of discipline and punishment is consist- ently linked to the economic problem of inheritance, and, in the circumstances of the time, to the factor of religious coercion.77 The sons must put up with this abuse and punishment in hope of getting their part of the estate.78 These relations were certainly among those which might lead to domestic strife and violence; but, as Augustine observes, "we are sons; if we get our inheritance, there is peace".79 Nevertheless the regimen of threat and punishment was not invariably successful: "We see fathers whip their rebellious sons, but sometimes in despair they dismiss them to live where they might".80 It is simply not possible, given this consistent linkage between the whip and actual relations between fathers and sons, to soften the reality of the potential harshness of the contact between the two, or to interpret Augustine's statements as derived from an imagery of God the Father, a celestial paternal figure who inflicts terrible punishment only to correct and in a spirit of love.81 But the "sometimes" in Augustine's observation above is an impor- tant caution: it is very difficult to get a statistical sense of the dimensions of these domestic problems. They rarely seem to have reached the point of open and public confrontation requiring civic adjudication. Sometimes external arbitration did have to be sought in bitter quarrels between relatives, even between fathers and sons. The father might complain about a bad son, the son about a harsh father (the durus pater). In such adjudicated quarrels, however, the son is never seen as equal to the father in honour, so outsiders tried to preserve the economic balance in the household and therefore the "respect" due from son to father.82 Sometimes sons put up resistance with impunity; sometimes, says Augustine, there is a "stupid" son 77 En. Psalm. 93.1 (CCL, 39, 300-1; linked to succession and inheritance); 93.17 (CCL, 39, 1317); 98.14 (CCL, 39, 1391-2); 102.20 (CCL, 40, 1469; in the context of religious coercion); Serm. 21.8 (Sirmond 20; CCL, 41, 283-4); 94 (PL, 38, 580-1); 259.3 (PL, 38, 1199; father beats the son, cheats labourers of their due pay). 78 En. Psalm. 142.17 (CCL, 40, 2031); cf. 102 (n. 77 above). 79 En. Psalm. 124.10 (CCL, 40, 1843). 80 En. Psalm. 93.17 (CCL, 39, 1318). 81 As does Poque, Langage symbolique dans la predication d'Augustin d'Hippone, i, ch. 7, "La loi du pere", pp. 193-224; despite her one statement (p. 220) admitting the hard reality, her constant tendency is to explain away the behaviour in terms of imagery, finally to exculpate the author via Freudian Oedipal complexes and castration fears, linguistic "structuration", and Ricoeurian guesswork (pp. 222-3). 82 Tract. 30 in Iohann. 8 (CCL, 36, 293); here, as throughout, I operate with the interpretation of "honour" outlined by J. Davis, People of the Mediterranean: An Essay in Comparative Social Anthropology (London, 1977), pp. 89-100. 24 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY who tests his father's "affection" and still manages to acquire his hereditas.83 In most families, though, the tacit threats and economic constraints were sufficient control; open father-son quarrels were not so extreme as to disrupt the family permanently. Most parents did not complain about the "wickedness" (improbitas) of their sons; there were cases, but they were rare.84 That is to say, the usual bonds of power held; poor sons of poor farmers laboured and suffered, motiv- ated not so much by profit (merces), says Augustine, as by pietas. Obsequium, as noted in the funerary epitaph quoted above, was indeed the key sentiment and practice. The children of the better off tended to show it because of economic enticements. But, rich or poor, sons could not be certain; the parents could retaliate by disposing of their wealth to others or by actually disowning their "bad" children.85 All these factors tended to isolate fathers from sons. The latter, however, were not alone. The children and the mother seem to have stood as a group apart from the father, united in common love and fear. The dyad of punishment and love is repeatedly emphasized whenever father-son relationships are observed.86 Set against this backdrop, Augustine's relations with his father Patricius, distant, formal and somewhat fearful, and his concomitant attachment to his mother, brother and sister, do not seem so unusual. And his situation was clearly one that allowed a degree of relief from household domi- nation that was not available to most other sons.87 That is to say, most sons had no future other than the family inheritance, with all that implied for family relationships. The economic nexus of relations between fathers and sons hints at another source of conflict: access to the hereditas was also very much a fraternal concern. The optimum solution was to have only one son who would succeed, but that could hardly be planned, and more than one son meant division of the inheritance, the threat of diminution of the paternal property and potential trouble between brothers.88 More than one son also meant 83 Liber de Medit. 3 (PL, 40, 903). 84 Serm. 9.4 (CCL, 41, 114); for threatened punishment that stopped short of actual blows, see En. Psalm. 73.8 (CCL, 39, 1010) and 148.11 (CCL, 40, 2274). 85 Serm. 45.2 (PL, 38, 263-4). 86 En. Psalm. 118.v.2 (CCL, 40, 1677); 118.xxxi.3 (CCL, 40, 1771); Serm. 82.ii.2- 3 (PL, 38, 506-7). 87 Confess. 2.3.5, 6.7.11 (CCL, 27, 19-20, 80-1); cf. n. 11 above on Patricius' expenditures for Augustine's formal education outside Thagaste, and of how few other fathers in the district could afford this. 88 See n. 194 below, and En. Psalm. 49.2 (CCL, 38, 576; divided hereditas among several sons and the threat of its diminution); Serm. 87.11.13-12.14 (PL, 38, 529); 88.17.18 (PL, 38, 549; should only be one heir); Serm. ad Caes. 5 (PL, 43, 694; diminishes the estate). As Tertullian remarks in noting the metathesis of the kinship (cont. on p. 26) 25 differential treatment. Augustine sees the matter from the perspective of the "good" son: "Wherever I go, if I so much as make a move without the express order of my father, I meet with the whip. My brother, on the other hand, does whatever he wishes". Augustine's advice to the "good" son? "Rejoice under the whip; the hereditas is being prepared for you".89 The impius son is one who awaits his father's death. The pius son hopes the father will live on, even though at death's door. Likewise, advises Augustine, I must not hope for the premature death of my brother with whom I must share the inheritance, even though while he lives my share is smaller, and while the land remains in multiple ownership part of it cannot be alienated.90 He also notes the practical problems involved in dividing agricultural estates that included cash, slaves, trees, fields and the family home. It is better that such estates be left undivided. Sometimes, Augustine says, the father tries to subdivide his property while still alive, but often the result is a series of court cases between brothers who battle to vindicate their respective shares of the hereditas. The old man, in anguish, cries out, "What on earth are you doing? I am still alive. In a little while I expect my death - and you are carving up my domus!".91 A way around the impasse, one that might have been a common solution, was to leave the hereditas intact and to have the sons work and share it together. The frereche, therefore, was part of the social network that consider- ably affected family composition.92 It seems that the elder brother did have seniority in such arrangements and, if the frereche was to be dissolved, he took the place of the father in dividing the estate; the interests of the younger brothers were protected by the device of letting them select which of the divided parts they wanted for them- selves.93 We cannot tell how frequent this practice was; the impression gained from reading Augustine is that it was a possible option that was available to sons, but that it was not a very common practice. As (n. 88 cont.) term "brother" to Christian usage for a co-religionist, the Christian bond is stronger than it is among pagans where family property tends to tear brothers apart; see Apol. 39.10 (CCL, 1, 151). 89 En. Psalm. 93.17 (CCL, 39, 1318). 90 Serm. 87.12.15 (PL, 38, 539); cf. de Utilit. leiun. 10.12 (CCL, 46, 240). 91 De Utilit. leiun. 11.13 (CCL, 46, 241); Serm. Morin, 623, 17 f., pax is our hereditas: we will call out the mensores to divide our respective parts; there will be not lites between brothers; cf. Serm. 335 (PL, 39, 1570-4; a quarrel between sons over an hereditas). 92 See, extensively, Serm. 357.1-2 (PL, 39, 1582); cf. 356.3-5 (PL, 39, 1575-6). 93 Serm. 356.3 (PL, 39, 1576). 26 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 11 5 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY with all literary impressions, however, the obvious caution is that statistical reality may have been quite different.94 Father and son relationships finally converged at the father's death and the transfer of the hereditas. If there was any ritualistic context in which familial relationships were paramount and were expressed in a public act, it was that of death. No one can achieve their own burial while alive; the removal of the body and its final disposal is, of necessity, a familial or communal duty. Burial and commemoration were therefore acts where the network of family relationships was compelled to action and made manifest. It is hardly surprising, then, that the primary duties of burial and commemoration of the father should focus on the son as heir or, in the tragic circumstance that a son predeceased his father, on the reverse of this relationship. Death and burial were therefore the point at which the most important actions focused on the core of the nuclear family. The family was the agent responsible for all final rites for the deceased. In burials of the more wealthy all the paraphernalia are added: the deceased lay on a couch of ivory, surrounded by the "inner" nuclear family, thefamilia suorum.95 When the old man dies he is escorted to the tomb by his sons and grandsons.96 A crowd of outsiders might attend, but the mourning familia was at the centre of the cortege, at the centre of the whole spectacle.97 The best death, of course, was that integrated with the household itself: "to die in his own house and in his own bed".98 The sepulchrum and its memoria became the new domus of the deceased.99 According to Augustine, the parents, the son and friends had the duty to maintain the memory of the deceased, including the setting up of the monumentum and its memoria. If parents were not alive, then the duty descended to filii aut quicumque cognati vel amici.100 In the final instance, the son, as his father's heir and continuator, was the important person at the graveside.101 But after 94 See P. Laslett, "Family and Household as Work Group and Kin Group: Areas of Traditional Europe Compared", in R. Wall et al. (eds.), Family Forms in Historic Europe (Cambridge, 1983), p. 533, noting that frereches, in any event, would usually never constitute more than 8-9 per cent of all households. 95 En. Psalm. 33.ii.14 (CCL, 38, 291). 96 En. Psalm. 127.2 (CCL, 40, 1569). 97 En. Psalm. 33.ii.25 (CCL, 38, 298); cf. Serm. 102.2.3-3.4 (PL, 38,612; a rich man is followed by male and female slaves and clients, as well as being mourned by the familia suorum), and 172.2.2-3 (PL, 38, 936-7). 98 En. Psalm. 33.ii.25 (see n. 97 above). 99 En. Psalm. 48.i.15 (CCL, 38, 563). 100 De Cur. Mort. 4.6 (PL, 40, 596). 101 *De Consol. Mort. 2.5 (PL, 40, 1166); de Cur. Mort. 5 f. (PL, 40, 598 f.). 27 that point, the memory was constantly renewed by the immediate relations of the deceased who celebrated annual feasts at the graveside known, significantly, as parentalia.102 If sons stood in a servile relationship to the father, the position of wives does not seem to have been much different. In theory, the husband's control over his wife's activity was near total: wives were not permitted so much as to dispense alms or to change their clothes without their husband's permission.103 Of course, one can be wholly dismissive of the constant reiteration of this idea (that the relationship between husband and wife is, or should be, one of servile dependence) as so much prescriptive advice. But clearly it was not. Master-slave- type relationships are ones that are reported of actual behaviour. 104 If we give no more than a basic credence to Augustine's account of his family, then his own mother publicly defended the conception of the wife as a slave to her husband. The fact that Monnica had to chide her peers on the matter, however, clearly suggests that there was real resistance to, and rejection of, the idea by at least some wives. But the actual treatment of the women to whom she was speaking argues for the reality of a rather harsh domination. The wife appears to have been on the front line of possible conflict between the father and the rest of the internal household, and so bore the brunt of the discipline enforced by the father. He was the enforcer, and there was no doubt in male minds as to who should triumph in domestic conflict. If the husband won and the wife was subdued to his dominium, there reigned a pax recta in the household; if not and the wife dominated, a pax perversa. What is implicit in these and other such observations is the assumption of pervasive domestic conflict. No idea of a genuine sharing emerges; one side or the other 102 In general, see W. Eisenhut, "Parentalia", RE Supplbd., xii (1970), cols. 979- 82; for Africa, see Saxer, Vie liturgique et quotidienne a Carthage, pp. 298-300; and his Morts, martyrs, reliques en Afrique chretienne aux premiers siecles (Paris, 1980), pp. 47- 52, for information from Tertullian; for Augustine, see the evidence outlined by van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop, pp. 498 ff. 103 For example, Ep. 262.4-9 (CSEL, 57, 624-8). 104 See the extended discussion in Contra Faust. 22.30 f. (CSEL, 25.1, 624 f.); de Bono Coniug. 6.6 (CSEL, 41, 194-5); de Coniug. Adult. 2.8.7 f. (CSEL, 41, 388 f.); ad Gen. ad Litt. 11.37.50 (PL, 34, 450; Eve's culpa means that men have dominium of women); Quaest. in Hept. 1, qu. 153 (CCL, 33, 59; an extended discussion of the origins and terminology of chattel slavery, then: "It is the natural order of things for mankind that women should serve men, and children their parents, because this is justice itself, that the weaker reason (ratio) should serve the stronger"); Serm. 332.4.4 (PL, 38, 1465): "You are the master, she is the slave", those are the terms of the tabellae matrimoniales; 392.4 (PL, 39, 1711), and a host of other statements to this effect. 28 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY must be dominant.105 As with father-son relationships, the conjugal relationship is riven with an ideological dyad of love and fear.106 The hostilities that could generate such fear were all too real. The household was a place of closed sexual confrontation, and since hubands/fathers were literally masters in domibus suis, the conflict was unequal. The propensity was to keep the conflict boxed in the domus. That disposition constrained husbands and other males to deal with (supposed) sexual offences within the four walls of the house itself.107 When a step was taken outside the house in such matters, Augustine noted a clear discrepancy in treatment: wives were brought into the forum and paraded publicly for their misde- meanours, but when had anyone ever seen the same happening to men?108 The reasons clearly lie in the distribution of power within the household itself. Christian ideology fought on the side of one dimension of a tra- ditional moral system that held that the husband should be faithful to his wife in lecto. But it is abundantly clear that popular practice did not indulge this rigorist demand; rather, the ideal was isolated in a separate sphere of pure moral action. Many men regarded sexual freedoms exercised by them outside their household in a light-hearted way; they were simply customary practice (consuetudo).109 One was accustomed to hear of wives who had been caught with (household?) slaves being led into the forum for public shame and trial, but one had never once heard of any man being put through the same public ritual when he was discovered with a slave woman. 110 As noted above in connection with concubinage and household ancillae, it was the huband's prerogative to have sexual access to females other than his wife in his own household. This sexual power which men exercised 105 En. Psalm. 143.6 (CCL, 40, 2077), where the ideas of love, domination and punishment are conjoined; your wife is "your darling (cara), your partner (coniunx), your household slave (famula)". These were both traditional ideas and ones given ideological form in Pauline docrine; but that does not derogate from the argument here. 106 De Continentia, 9.23 (CSEL, 41, 168-70); de Morib. Cath. 1.30.63 (PL, 32, 1336): wife must obey the husband; the affection of the husband is counterbalanced by the timor muliebris; Ep. 262.7-8 (CSEL, 57, 268); Serm. 37.6(7) (CCL, 41, 453-4). 107 As Augustine, Ep. 78.6 (CSEL, 34.2, 340-1), notes, men do not rush to throw their wives out of their houses or to bring accusations against their mothers when adultery is discovered. 108 Serm. 82.11 (PL, 38, 511); Serm. 153.5.5 (PL, 38, 828), cf. n. 111 below. 109 Serm. 9.3-4 (CCL, 41, 111-13); 21.5 (Sirmond 20; CCL, 41, 281). 110 Serm. 9.4 (CCL, 41, 114-15). Augustine, to his credit, rails against this double standard, calling it not divine law, but human perversity; but it is clear that the custom was well entrenched. 29 as part of their household domination was probably derived in part from their absolute control of their property, especially of slaves, where sexual access was one of the essences of the master-slave relationship."' By extension, the same power of sexual access was potentially exercised throughout the whole household. Men could be "adulterers" in their own house because such actions were "in secret", that is to say, within the walls of the house where external society and the state did not directly intrude. Sometimes a few brave wives had the audacity to take such problems outside the home, to broach them with Augustine in the confidence of his episcopal secretarium; and that is where the matter remained, in secret.112 In these matters there was always an element of madness (furor). But the family was the judge of that as well, and the household the place of its containment.113 And, constantly, fear. In discussing the sexual peccadilloes of the wife, Augustine only sees the possibility of two reactions for wives: the bad fear (of being caught) and the good fear (of not doing it); but all relationships are located along that single spectrum.114 The problem is that wives, that is to say, married women, were the object of sexual hunting by married and unmarried men, for obvious reasons.115 The pressures on them in particular, therefore, were real not imaginary. When Monnica warned her young son who was breaking into puberty against sexual activity with women, it was not with young girls, ancillae, concubines or prostitutes, but with married women.16 Wives therefore had to be treated as a species of domestic property. They were to be guarded to see that they did not err; just as elders and slave nurses stood in loco parentum to children, 111 See, for example, Serm. 153.5.6 (PL, 38, 828), and 224.3 (PL, 38, 1094-5). Such behaviour towards slave women of the household, in the face of the wife, was a type that was related to the image of machismo cultivated by other acts that gained a man a reputation for being a real man (for example, drinking and being able to survive any amount of wine). The whole area remains a terribly understudied subject; see the indications in M. I. Finley, Ancient Slavery and Modern Ideology (London, 1980), pp. 95-6; a major survey, Patterson, Slavery and Social Death, has some relevant comments passim; cf. J. Kolendo, "L'esclavage et la vie sexuelle des hommes libres a Rome", Index, x (1981), pp. 288-97. 112 Serm. 82.11 (PL, 38, 511). 113 Serm. 21.4 (Sirmond 20; CCL, 41, 280) on dementia and the judgements of omnes in domo tua. 114 Frag. 2, Serm. 9.10 (PL, Ep. 8; PL, 38, 71); In Ep. Iohann. ad Parth., 9.6 (PL, 35, 2019). 115 See, for example, Stone, Family, Sex and Marriage, pp. 343 ff.; it is an attitude that informs assumptions of sexual behaviour in similar situations as, for example, throughout Apuleius' Metamorphoses. 116 Confess. 2.3.7. (CCL, 27, 20). 30 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY so at times neighbours and friends were called upon to maintain surveillance over wives in their husbands' absence.117 All these factors: the fear, the closed nature of the house, the setting of mother and children apart from the father, the sexual freedom of the husband (whether exercised or not) and others, set the scene for violence. The enclosed household, and pressures on the father, meant that violence connected with his natural role as disciplinarian spilled over internally, and the wife was the first object in its path. Her misdemeanours might be minor, even imagined, but still deserving of punishment. They were corrected, not just by voice, but by blows: for as little as talking back petulantly or for looking "immoderately" out of the window of the house.118 The most graphic testimony is that of Augustine's own mother Monnica: her relationships with Augustine and her other children on the one hand, and with her husband Patricius on the other. The anger (ira) of the husband was as commonplace as his sexual liberties taken inside and outside the household.119 His anger was sudden, unprovoked and unpredictable. It is right, says Augustine, that his mother bore up stoically under the quarrels and beatings. One must suspect that these domestic episodes of violence, as well as those outside the home, were linked at times with the pervasive problem of excessive drinking.120 If the hopes that the problems of drunkenness could be confined within the household were met, however, the effects on domestic violence would only be heightened.121 But Monnica was hardly alone. Many women of the town met in conversation with each other, bearing the bruises and marks of beatings that had disfigured their faces. They com- 117 Tract. 13 in Iohann. 11 (CCL, 36, 136); cf. the case in Apuleius, Metamorphoses, 9.17 f. where the husband uses a trusted slave. 118 Ep. 246.2 (CSEL, 57, 584), since it was behaviour associated with prostitutes; for just such a woman as a type, see Tract. 13 in Iohann. 11 (CCL, 36, 136). 119 He was no different from other husbands in this respect: Confess. 9.9.19, see n. 122 below. 120 It is, as always, a mode of behaviour whose extent and effects are most difficult for the historian to measure. See W. B. Taylor, Drinking, Homicide and Rebellion in Colonial Mexican Villages (Stanford, 1979), esp. pp. 68 f. Some of the references in Augustine, for example, Serm. 17.3 (CCL, 41, 238-9); 153.6 (PL, 38, 828); 225.1 (PL, 38, 1098); 252.4 (PL, 38, 1174); Ep. 22.1.3-22.1.6 (CSEL, 34.2, 56-9); 35.2 (CSEL, 34.2, 29); 36.3, 15 (CSEL, 34.2, 33, 44); 93.49 (CSEL, 34.2, 493); 189.7 (CSEL, 57, 135-6); 199.37 (CSEL, 57, 276) and others, give good reason for believing that the problem was not just a figment of the bishop's sermonizing; see Hamman, Vie quotidienne en Afrique du Nord, pp. 78-9; van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop, pp. 131, 137, 513-27. For Augustine's own family, on his father Patricius, see n. 58 above; on his mother Monnica, see the vignettes in Confess. 8.9.7 and 9.8.18. 121 Ep. 29.5 (CSEL, 34.1, 116-17): "we can only hope that the kingdom of drunkenness might be confined to the household domain (saltus domesticus)". 31 plained openly and bitterly about the treatment they received from their men.122 For the village of Thagaste, at least, Augustine wishes to leave us with the impression that such maltreatment was a common occurrence. We can see that many women did object; but there must have been as many or more who, like Monnica, accepted such treatment as part of the traditional bundle of duties that went with marriage. At least, this is what Augustine claims were his mother's actual counter- arguments to the "rebellious" women when she heard them. She warned that they ought to pay attention to the contractual conditions under which they entered marriage: the tabellae matrimoniales they had signed. These were the tools by which they had voluntarily been made slaves (ancillaefactae), so they ought not to show uppityness to their masters (superbire adversus dominos non oportere) 123 That returns us full circle to the argument at the beginning of this section: domestic violence and fear between husbands and wives was counterbalanced by an ideology of love and respect (that is, servile dependence) that was accepted in practice by many men and women. Indeed the two do not appear to be irreconcilable opposites at all, but rather natural extensions, the one of the other. In making these statements I do not wish to suggest that all conjugal relationships were inevitably brutal, or all wives totally dominated. Clearly there were wives who controlled property of their own. Augustine does mention them, but at the same time notes the general condemnation, or at least disapproval, of their behaviour (an attitude he himself shared). This was especially true of those women who disposed of their own funds.124 Such women, who ran their own houses, clearly ran the risk of becoming women with a bad reputation (mulieres malae famae) simply because they had to confront men in situations that exposed them to accusations of having transgressed normal modes of contact between men and women.125 There were 122 Confess. 9.9.19 (CCL, 27, 145). These are hardly unusual sentiments, even for households of an earlier period. Expressions included in the epitaphs of lower-order populations of the Latin west commonly include stereotypical phrases that husbands lived with their wives sine / ullo-a / quaerella, discordia, iniuria, animi laesione, crimine, stomacho, iracundia, bile, maledictu, and so on. Though conventional, these negative sentiments would hardly be worth repeating in a formulaic fashion if assumptions about real conditions to the opposite were not equally pervasive. 123 Confess. 9.9.19. 124 Ep. 262.4-8 (CSEL, 57, 624-8), the case of a woman who distributed some of her own property to the poor in the face of her husband's objections, and a son who should have received it. 125 See Ep. 65 (CSEL, 34.2, 232-4) for a good example. 32 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY also some women who seemed to have had control over the purse- strings of the household while their husbands were still alive; Augus- tine disapproves, but such women existed.126 In fact in his own family, following the death of his father Patricius when Augustine was sixteen years old, his mother (who was thirty-nine at the time) seems to have assumed defacto control of the paternal estate, in spite of the existence of sons, and to have issued allowances out of the patrimony to Augustine.127 Indeed it was only after his mother's death at the age of fifty-five in the spring of 387 and his return to Africa in late 388, that Augustine seems to have come into full control of his share of the paternal house and lands.128 There are other cases. Augustine mentions a widow of a noble family who, even though she had surviving sons and grandsons, had control of her own finances and, apparently, those of the family in general. As a materfamilias she managed household expenditures and was restricted in making them only in so far as she perceived her prior obligations to her family. 129 The critical act which largely determined the shape of the conjugal family, and therefore of relationships of wives to husbands, was that of marriage. In the traditional system of the Roman upper classes, marriage was a transfer of women between two existing families or houses. The woman entered an already formed family; the marriage did not create a new one.130 The function of marriage in family formation among the lower orders is almost wholly unstudied, but one must suspect that it had greater significance than among the upper echelons of Roman society. Then again, differences in the development of the ritual and form accompanying marriage from the early to the later empire are very difficult to measure, given the fact that so little is known of marriage ceremonial in the earlier period. Of the basic rituals that were part of later betrothal and marriage (the signing of contracts, the ring, the kiss, the handshake and others), 126 De Serm. Dom. in Monte, 2.2.7 (CCL, 35, 97-8). 127 Confess. 3.4.7 (CCL, 27, 30), unless the funds (maternae mercedes) were some that Monnica controlled independently of Patricius. 128 Possidius, Vita Aug. 3 (PL, 32, 36); for the chronology, see Contra Litt. Petil. 3.25.30 (PL, 43, 362). 129 Ep. 130.2.5-3.8 (CSEL, 44, 45-50). 130 For important nuances in the development of this system, see Saller "Familia, Domus and the Roman Conception of Family", pp. 338 f.; jurists came to a grudging admission of the existence of separate households not restricted by the power of a surviving paterfamilias. For some of the legal changes that began to give recognition to the isolated family group in the later empire, see L. Anne, Les rites des fiancailles et la donation pour cause de mariage sous le Bas-Empire (Louvain, 1941), pp. 439-49. 33 all were part of the ceremonial in the earlier period, with the exception of the ecclesiastical benediction, which was a rather late and slow- developing addition. 131 Even in the lower reaches of regional upper classes that had become Christian, the formalities of marriage do not seem to have changed much, to judge from Augustine's testimony. Basically marriages were arranged by the parents. In lieu of his father, who had died some fourteen years earlier, Augustine's mother Monnica arranged his marriage (in 385). The same had been true a generation earlier in her own marriage. Her parents had assigned her to Patricius when she had been plenis annis nubilisfacta, a conventional phrase used to indicate that she was at least of minimum legal age, twelve in the case of girls. 132 Augustine was later critical of his parents for marrying "too late".133 But we do not know how old that was in either case. Monnica gave birth to Augustine when she was twenty- two, but he is not known to have been the first child.134 Perhaps she was married as late as her mid to late teens. A generation later Augustine himself was more typical of traditional Roman upper-class patterns of marriage. He was about thirty years old when he was engaged to his bride-to-be, who was then about ten years old. When they were set to marry a year or two later, he was thirty-two and she was twelve.'35 We have no explicit testimony from any of our wit- nesses about the common age-at-marriage among the plebeian popu- lace. There is only the constant assumption that such marriages were also arranged by the parents, and that the subsequent husband-wife relationship was marked by a servile domination that would be consistent with a significant age differential between the two parties. Such arranged marriages fell neatly within the framework of prop- erty relationships that dominated the late Roman family. The parties concerned proceeded through a series of written agreements that established the contractual conditions of the marriage. First, there were the "engagement tablets" (tabellae sponsaliciae) or written docu- 131 Anne, Rites des fiancailles et la donation pour cause de mariage, pp. 5-58 (ring), 59-73 (kiss), 137-238 (the benediction); of course, there was also the movement of the marriage rituals and ceremonies to the site of the church, see K. Ritzer, Formen, Riten und Religioses Brauchtum der Eheschliessung in den Christlichen Kirchen des ersten Jahrtausends (Liturgiewissenschaftliche Quellen und Forschungen, Heft 38, Munster, 1962). 132 The minimum ages of twelve for girls and fourteen for boys were accepted by Christians: cf. Tertullian, de Virg. Veland. 11.6 (CCL, 2, 1221); for Monnica, see Confess. 9.9.19 (see n. 122 above); for the conventional phrase, cf. Vergil, Aen. 7.63. 133 Confess. 2.3.7 (CCL, 27, 20-1). 134 Confess. 9.11.28 (CCL, 27, 149-50). 135 Confess. 6.12.22-13.23 (CCL, 27, 88-9). 34 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY ments that set the agreement, the pacta sponsalicia, to engage the pair to be married.136 These were followed by the tabellae dotales which specified the arrangements for dealing with the property brought to the marriage by the girl.137 Finally, the marriage itself was sealed by the terms of a second set of written documents, the tabellae nuptiales/ matrimoniales, which outlined the agreements forming the substance of the marriage contract (pactum matrimoniale) .138 We cannot presume that all these agreements were present in every marriage; abridgement and omission were quite possible. The overriding consideration for our analysis here is the continuing civil and contractual nature of marriage which appears to have remained the norm. The signed agreements were at the heart of the ceremony of marriage, even its Christian version. Of course, the church absorbed the contract within its institutional apparatuses: the bishop helped draft the agreements, read them aloud to the parties concerned and co-signed them.139 In all this operation there remained a critical element of property and its exchange, including the girl herself. The language of purchase was often used of the acquisition of the bride. There might be a long delay in the engagement so that the prospective groom would not think that he was getting the girl "cheap".140 The tabellae matrimonia- les were spoken of as the means of her purchase (instrumenta emptionis suae), and Monnica herself emphasized them as the instrumenta by which women were made ancillae to their new masters; indeed there 136 Tertullian, de Virg. Veland. 12.1 (CCL, 2, 1221); cf. de Or. 22.10 (CCL, 1, 271); also referred to as tabulae/sponsalicium. 137 Tertullian, de Pudicit. 1.20 (CCL, 2, 1283); de Monogam. 11.2 (CCL, 2, 1244). 138 Tertullian, de Idol. 16.1 f. (CCL, 2, 1117); ad Uxor. 2.3.1 (CCL, 1, 387); for the pactum, see Serm. 51.13.22 (PL, 38, 345); 278.9.9 (PL, 38, 1272). Such pacts continued to be at the centre of the arranged marriage until the early modern period in Europe: see R. Wheaton, "Recent Trends in the Historical Study of the French Family", in R. Wheaton and T. K. Hareven (eds.), Sexuality in French History (Philadelphia, 1980), p. 10. 139 Serm. 51.13.22 (PL, 38, 345); 132.2.2 (PL, 38, 735; emphasizing that the woman was the imbecillior sexus); 293 (PL, 38, 1332); 332.4 (PL, 38, 1463), "You are the master, she is the slave. God made each one that way. Sarah, the scripture says, was totally obedient to Abraham, calling him master (1 Petr. 3.6). It's true. The bishop writes on those tablets: your wives are your slaves, you are the masters of your wives". Augustine then quotes Paul to the effect that "The wife does not have power/ownership (potestas) over her own body, but her husband does", explaining: "Because I am the master (dominus)". For the ideology of female "weakness" in the period, see J. Beaucamp, "Le vocabulaire de la faiblesse feminine dans les textes juridiques romains du IIIe au VIe siecle", Rev. Hist. Droit, liv (1976), pp. 485-508, whose ideas, however, must be considerably nuanced by a reading of S. Dixon, "Infirmitas Sexus: Womanly Weakness in Roman Law", Tijdschr. v. Rechtsgeschiedenis, lii (1984), pp. 343-71, at pp. 356 ff. 140 Confess. 8.3.7 (CCL, 27, 117), also mentioning the pacta sponsalicia. 35 may actually have been some such phraseology used, or implied, in the tablets themselves.141 That is not all that was in them, of course, nor all there was to the conception of marriage. Also included was a clause dear to the heart of the Christian bishop which he was careful to read out: that marriage was liberorum procreandorum causa.142 But even this purpose must be seen within the social context of sex and marriage. Sexual access and therefore behaviour was to a considerable degree regulated by the lines of propriety that traversed the society. The relations established by ages-at-marriage of men and women, the access to slave women of the household, the recourse to prostitutes by the unmarried youth, the careful hoarding of married women, the relations between husband and wife, the need for male heirs, and the consequent dualistic relationships fraught with love and hate are all parts of the same piece. Sex was therefore a property-dominated act, one whose values were polarized by those proprietorial forces that surrounded it, that of slavery overshadowing all others. In this respect the sexuality of the family of Augustine's day was part of a long-term antique mode, of a strongly dualistic nature, which emphasized restraint, purification, self-control - in a word, asceticism - at one end of the spectrum; and liberal access, indulgence and frank enjoyment, not necessarily tied to any particular sexual object, at the other. Both ideals, though usually the former, were reflected in the prevailing imperial ideologies, from the "vulgar Stoicism" of the principate to the Christianity of the later empire. As a mass popular ideology, however, Christianity was to have the more profound impact on behaviour, no matter which side it chose. Augustine's own views on sexuality ranged from the ascetic to the integrative paradigms in the course of his lifetime.143 It is hardly surprising, then, that the institution of marriage was inextricably bound up with a vocabulary of property, words which 141 See n. 139 above, and Serm. 37.7 (CCL, 41, 454; "She considers the matrimonial tablets to be the instruments of her purchase"); cf. Confess. 9.9.19 (CCL, 27, 145). 142 Serm. 9.18 (CCL, 41, 143; a clause written on the tablets); 51.13.22 (PL, 38, 345), read aloud by the bishop so that the parents might become genuine parents-in- law (soceri) and not pimps (lenones); 278.9.9 (PL, 38, 1272). To illustrate some of the variation and overlap in these practices, see the Tablettes Albertini (n. 148 below) where this clause appears at the head of the tabella sponsalicia. 143 Sexuality is here used in the precise sense in which Foucault defined it as a problem separate from sexual behaviour: see his Histoire de la sexualite, iii: le souci de soi (Paris, 1984) for the Roman period. The subject of Augustine's consciously expressed views on the subject is a complex one that deserves a fuller treatment not possible here; for a beginning, see P. Brown, Augustine and Sexuality (Berkeley, 1983). 36 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY were not just coincidental metaphors.144 Indeed the transfer of the girl to her new family was sealed by a series of gift and property exchanges that went in both directions. Just as with the series of written pacts, these exchanges are not always clearly separated or necessarily distinguished by the givers and receivers. The property stemming from the groom's side included the so-called arrhae sponsali- ciae and the "gifts before marriage" (donationes ante nuptias). Refer- ences to both, in allegorical terms or otherwise, are frequent enough in Augustine to indicate that they were a normal part of the marriage pattern even among families of moderate means.145 The arrhae seem to have consisted of a portion of the groom's material wealth; Augus- tine mentions gold, silver, costly gems, horses, slaves, farms and estates in the composition of such gifts.146 The arrhae and donationes stemming from the man's side seem to have been substantial enough to merit Augustine's disapproval of their size, with special concern for the attraction such prizes had for the prospective bride and her family.147 The woman brought her dowry (dos) to the marriage. As with the arrha, it is difficult to assess its importance in purely financial terms; it was important enough for pacta dotalia and tabellae dotales to be considered a normal part of most marriage agreements.148 Augustine could condemn dowry, as well as the matrimonial gifts and property coming from the groom's side, as corrupting motives for marriage and "love".149 By the early fifth century emperors were 144 E. Albertario, "Di alcuni referimenti al matrimonio e al possesso in Sant'Agos- tino", S. Agostino: pubblicazione commemorativa del XV centenario della sua morte, supplement to Rivista di Filosofia neo-scolastica, xxiii (1931), pp. 367-76. 145 En. Psalm. 55.17 (CCL, 39, 690-1); 84.2 (CCL, 39, 1162); *Serm. 11.3 (PL, 39, 1761); *90.2 (PL, 39, 1918); 372.2 (PL, 39, 1662). 146 Tract. 8 in Iohann. 2.4 (CCL, 36, 83-4). For arrhae in general, see Serm. 71 (PL, 38, 458); 156.15.16 (PL, 38, 858); 378 (PL, 39, 1673); this is not the place to enter into an extended discussion of the debate, from Mitteis to Koschaker, over the origins and development of the arrhae. One may note with interest, however, the apparent adoption of a Semitic term to designate the exchange; see the survey and arguments in Anne, Rites des fiancailles et la donation pour cause de manrage, pp. 87-135. 147 Contra Faust. 15.1 (CSEL, 25.1, 415-18); En. Psalm. 55.17 (CCL, 39, 690); Serm. 183.7.11 (PL, 38, 991); Tract. 8 in Iohann 2.4 (see n. 146 above). 148 See n. 139 above; and En. Psalm. 55.17 (see n. 145) and Serm. 137.8.9 (PL, 38, 759). For a good example from the later empire, see C. Courtois et al., Tablettes Albertini: actes prives de l'epoque vandale, fin du Ve siecle (Paris, 1952), table I. la (215), a tabella dotis dated to 17 Sept. 493. A more remote rural community would be difficult to imagine, and yet the dowry of Germania Ianuarilla is carefully listed, along with the values of individual items in it. 149 De Bono Coniug. 15.17 (CSEL, 41, 209-10); see too Tertullian, ad Uxor. 1.4.7 (CCL, 1, 378), with a list of items that could be included. Of course there were marriages of the poor who could afford none of these gifts, dowry or otherwise: cf. Jerome, Ep. 69.5; as J. Gaudemet, L'eglise dans l'empire romain, IV-Ve siecles (Paris, (cont. on p. 38) 37 putting into formal legislation a requirement that the mutual property and gift exchange represented by dowry and indirect dowry should be equal in value.150 The choice of marital partners made by the parents also seems to have been dominated mainly by material considerations, including those of honour and status. 15 Clearly it was hoped that the property exchange would at least maintain the social standing of the new family, perhaps even add to its status. The prevailing sentiment was that one should marry an equal in property and thereby preserve family honour. The bride would bring her dos, but she also hoped that the man she married would be at least as well-off in terms of his landed property. 152 In a series of letters to a father who was seeking to arrange a marriage, Augustine emphasized the absolute power given to fathers to make such arrangements in respect of their child- daughters; in making the match the father naturally hoped to acquire "all that is good" for himself and his domus.153 But kin and community endogamy do not seem to have counted as conspicuous items to be considered in the process of match-making (excluding, of course, upper-class families linked to imperial households). The law codes of the period maintained instances of cousin marriage as a possible requirement in testamentary depositions made, obviously, by wealthier families.154 But attested examples of parallel or cross- 1958), p. 539, notes, such de facto marriages, formally labelled "concubinage", were a class phenomenon: they were the marriages of the poor; cf. B. Rawson, "Roman Concubinage and Other de facto Marriages", Trans. and Proc. Amer. Philol. Assoc., civ (1974), pp. 280-305, though there was a dominant practice of concubinage that consisted of partnership for sex, not marriage, that defined the cases Rawson analyses of persons who desired to have a genuine marriage but could not (for reasons of status conflict); see now S. Treggiari, "Concubinae", Papers Brit. School Rome, xlix (1982), pp. 59-81. 150 Nov. Valent. 35.9 (A.D. 435/7) and Nov. Maj. 6.9 (A.D. 457/8) where the emperor connects the purpose of this property to the support of the children to be produced by the marriage. 151 Tertullian, ad Uxor. 1.4.6 (CCL, 1, 378): the "earthly" desire to marry is motivated by material causes, "to become master in another family (alienafamilia), to brood over another's wealth". 152 Tertullian, ad Uxor. 2.8.3-5 (CCL, 1, 392-3), where Tertullian says that Christian women ought to be willing to marry "down" on the social scale; clearly many did not share this view. 153 Ep. 253-5 (CSEL, 57, 600-3); if the girl is mature, however, she obtains some say, at least theoretically, and in lieu of a mother is to have the protection of her maternal aunt, matertera. 154 Dig. 38.7.23-4 and CJ 6.25.2.pr. (Marcellus, Papinianus and Caracalla respect- ively); cf. A. C. Bush, "Roman Collateral Kinship Terminology" (State Univ. of New York, Buffalo, Ph.D. thesis, 1970), pp. 184 ff., who, I think, misinterprets the significance of this evidence. 38 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY cousin marriage in social classes below the propertied elite in the period contemporary with Augustine (and earlier) seem to be limited mainly to eastern Mediterranean social contexts.155 But the only time Tertullian places the domus in an extended network of kinship culminating in a larger ethnic group is in his quotations from, and direct comments on, biblical texts, especially those relating to Hebraic social structure of the Old Testament period.156 And Augustine alludes just once to the late fourth-century incest regulations legislated by Christian emperors that established greater degrees of kin prohibition in marriage, only to mention that in any event cousin marriages were rather rare among the common people.157 Which makes very clear a more general proposition: that Augustine's conception of his own society's web of kinship and personal relationships was not one that assumed any sort of endogamy or other kinship dominance of this type that affected the make-up of the family. Clearly his society did not share the sort of closely overlapping networks of kinship, extended households, agnatic lin- eages and endogamous marriage patterns that seem to have been typical of some eastern Mediterranean societies of the period.158 Whenever such a social structure was encountered by Augustine's parishioners in their biblical texts, he had to explain to them, some- times at great and painful length, a system which was clearly so at variance with their own that they did not even understand its basic elements.159 155 See E. Patlagean, Pauvrete economique et pauvrete sociale a Byzance, 4e-7e siecles (Paris, 1977), pp. 113-28, for contemporary family structures in the east. 156 References are too numerous to detail here: see G. Claesson, Index Tertullianus, 3 vols. (Paris, 1974-5), s.w.; the passage where the elements are most consciously linked is Adv. Marc. 4.36.18 (CCL, 1, 450) where the Jewish ethnic group is seen as subdivided into interlocking gentes, populi and familiae in a manner highly reminiscent of the social structure reflected in the Tabula Banasitana of Tertullian's Africa. 157 Civ. Dei, 15.16.2 (CSEL, 40.2, 94). 158 B. D. Shaw and R. P. Saller, "Close-Kin Marriage in Roman Society?", Man, new ser., xix (1984), pp. 432-44, for a more detailed critique of the propositions advanced by J. Goody, The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe (Cambridge, 1983). 159 See, for example, Migne, PL, 46, s.v. "pluralitas uxorum" for a host of relevant texts; and the long and fundamental discussion in Contra Faust. 22.35 (CSEL, 25.1, 630); for other exemplary texts (some among many), see Locut. in Hept. 1.43 (CCL, 33, 385); Quaest. 17 in Matth. 17 (PL, 35, 1374); Tract. 10 in Iohann. 2 (CCL, 36, 101); and Tract. 28 in Iohann. 3 (CCL, 36, 278), which is typical of the problem: "For it was the custom of the scriptures to call blood relations of any degree and close relatives (quoslibet consanguinei et cognationis propinqui) 'brothers' (fratres), which is both outside our normal usage of the term and not according to the manner in which we usually speak. For who on earth calls his uncle (avunculus) or his nephew (filius sororis) 'brothers' (fratres)?". 39 From the conjugal family and its formation, we move naturally to the subject of children. Of all secondary relations within the family these are clearly among the most problematical. Children far outrank women as the invisible people of this world; the chances of knowing anything substantial about their part in the family is impeded by a massive deficit in the evidence. Fathers might regard procreation of sons as of paramount importance, but their relations with their children in general tended to be mediated through the mother. Attitudes towards children are further very difficult to discern through the barrage of hyperbolic ideology thrown up in justification of marriage and sexual intercourse. These acts were intended for the procreation of children alone, a stance which made the assumption of children as an unmitigated "good thing". But to say that real families did not always see them in this light is a considerable understatement. The conclusion does not emerge just from the extreme expression of the problem: the fact that some parents were compelled, usually by poverty or fear of it, to kill, expose or sell unwanted progeny. It has a much wider sweep than that. But first there is a conceptual problem. The stages of life accepted by Augustine are not clearly marked, as they were not for any of his peers, although a regular progression was recognized: infans, puer, adulescens iuventus, then old age and death.160 The dividing lines between the stages were hardly ours: Augustine himself crossed the frontier between "adolescence" and "youth" at the age of thirty.161 Adolescence could in fact last into the late thirties or early forties, depending on the pragmatic circumstances that linked the son to his father. Legally the state of infans was set at seven years (that is, six years old in our computation), but in practice its termination seems to have been linked to weaning from breast-feeding.162 Consequently the age of "boyhood" lasted over a whole period between the first year and the mid to late teens, a period when the boy was considered 160 En. Psalm. 127.15 (CCL, 40, 1878). See E. Lamirande, "Les ages de l'homme d'apres Saint Ambroise de Milan", in Melanges offerts en hommage au R. P. Etienne Gareau (Ottawa, 1982), p. 227-33, with comments on E. Eyben, "Die Einteilung des menschlichen Lebens im romischen Altertum", Rheinisches Museum der Philologie, cxvi (1973), pp. 150-90; cf. E. Eyben, "Roman Notes on the Course of Life", Ancient Soc., iv (1973), pp. 213-38; Eyben's extended essay, "Was the Roman 'Youth' an 'Adult' Socially?", Antiquite Classique, 1 (1981), pp. 328-50, is no reply to the fundamental objections made by H. W. Pleket, "Licht uit Leuven over de romeinse Jeugd?", Lampas, xii (1979), pp. 173-92. 161 Confess. 7.1.1 (CCL, 27, 92). 162 H. G. Knothe, "Zur 7-Jahresgrenze der 'Infantia' im antiken romischen Recht", Studia et Documenta Historiae et luris, xlviii (1982), pp. 239-56. 40 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY to be in preparation for quasi-adulthood (as the term adulescens, "becoming an adult", itself suggests). The stage of "youth" could be lengthened and delayed into the thirties and forties primarily because of the real economic domination that many fathers continued to hold over their sons. Attitudes towards children were therefore commen- surately skewed towards different developmental patterns from our own. Then again, from the perspective of infant children the core family looked very different from how it did to most adults through their part of the domestic cycle. The important figures that dominated the world of the child were the mother, siblings and elders. As important, if not more so, in this list, however, was the slave nurse, such as those in Patricius' household who gave the infant Augustine milk.163 Ever-present from birth, slave nurses were always included as an integral part of the parent-child group. Their relationship to the male children was particularly close, since Augustine indicates that in some cases the nurse slept with the child in a place separate from the rest of the adults (sometimes with the disastrous result of suffocation of the infant).164 Obviously the nurses were present in order to lighten the heavy burdens of raising children; the main difficulty they allevi- ated, as is clear from their name (nutrix, nutrices), was the breast- feeding of infants.165 Mothers would sometimes assume the burden for a few months after birth, but soon, in order forcibly to wean the infant, they would smear bitter-tasting substances on their nipples in order to put the infant off further suckling.166 The process of weaning from the mother's/nurse's breasts also marked a further stage in the child's life. While attached to the mother, the child was seen as 163 Confess. 1.6.7, 11 (CCL, 27, 4, 6). 164 Ep. 194.7.32 (CSEL, 57, 201-2). 165 In this respect women were likened to cows; the task would be less onerous if only infants were not so demanding: In Ep. Iohann. ad Parth. 9.1 (PL, 35, 2043); see, further, En. Psalm. 54.24 (CCL, 39, 674); 130.9 (CCL, 40, 1905-6); 130.13 (CCL, 40, 908-9; infant fed away from the family table, weaning); 39.28 (CCL, 38, 445). For some of the evidence from antiquity, see K. R. Bradley, "Sexual Regulations in Wet- Nursing Contracts from Roman Egypt", Klio, lxii (1980), pp. 321-5, and the literature cited there; for the later empire in the east, see J. Beaucamp, "L'allaitment: mere ou nourrice?",Jahrbuch derOsterreichen Byzantinistik, xxii (1982), pp. 549-58; for modern comparative materials, see G. D. Sussman, "The End of the Wet-Nursing Business in France, 1874-1914", in Wheaton and Hareven (eds.), Family and Sexuality in French History, pp. 224-52, with references to his earlier work on the subject. 166 En. Psalm. 30.ii. 12 (CCL, 38, 210); Augustine reports the sense of shock shown by the infant, the mammothreptus, on first being repelled by the offensive paste; nurses also used the technique to wean the infant and to drive it ad mensam; cf. Serm. 311.14 (PL, 38, 1419). 41 dependent and weak (infirmus), still a "mummy's boy" (filius matris). When he graduated he became a filius patris.167 The conscious atti- tudes to breast-feeding by mothers and wet-nurses seem ambiguous, perhaps confused, in Augustine's reportage. On the one hand, he placed a high premium on the willingness of mothers to feed their own children; he saw the unwillingness of those who disliked the duty as symptomatic of a negative attitude to children that led to the ruin of households (ruinosa est domus).168 Yet the implication of some of these same passages is that mothers shunt infants off the breast in order that they might be able to give birth more frequently.'69 And nourishment was seen as the central role of the mother, as much as domination was that of the father.170 The net result for family formation was that, for families of at least middling resources, the slave nurse was an integral part of the family. Like other surrogate members of the domus outside its kin-core, the nurse could be placed in full charge of the children in lieu of the parents.171 And she formed another link between one generation and the next. A good example comes from Augustine's own family. A slave nurse in Augustine's home at Thagaste had carried Monnica's father on her back when he was an infant. When he grew up and married, and Monnica was born, this same slave woman carried Monnica around as a child. Finally, she had come, as a slave, with Monnica into Patricius' household.172 It was customary for infants and young children to be carried around "piggy-back" by the younger girls of the family or by the old slave nurses who acted as bearers (gerulae).173 As with elders, slave nurses assumed full educative and disciplinary functions over children in loco parentum in a period of the latter's absence.174 All these observations are not made in order to diminish our evaluation of parental love for their surviving children. Paternal tensions with sons were more a matter of adolescence. Earlier on, the main hope of parents for their first newly born children was that they 167 En. Psalm. 49.27 (CCL, 38, 595). 68 Serm. 311.14 (PL, 38, 1419). 169 See, for example, En. Psalm. 49.27, n. 167 above. 170 En. Psalm. 26.ii.18 (CCL, 38, 164). 171 Ep. 98.4 (CSEL, 34.2, 524-5). 172 Confess. 9.8.17 (CCL, 27, 143). 173 Tertullian, Adv. Marc. 3.13.2 = Adv. Iud. 9.5 (a doublet) (CCL, 1, 524; CCL, 2, 1366); cf. de Anim. 19.8 (CCL, 2, 811); the old women use rattles (crepitacilla) to keep the infants entertained. 174 Confess. 9.8.18 (CCL, 27, 144). 42 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY would survive.175 So attitudes towards surviving infants seem to have been concomitantly generous. In a report reminiscent of a similar modern-day scene, Augustine can describe a father who is a thunder- ing orator, a man who is able to shake the forum with his formidable oratorical skills. Yet when he goes home and speaks to his baby son, he sets aside his formal Latin and descends to "baby talk".176 Tertullian is the only one of our witnesses who is forthright enough to speak of the "inconvenience" of raising children (importunitas liberorum) as a terrible obstacle: "Custom forces children upon men, otherwise in their right mind they would not endure the difficult- ies".177 But one senses in Tertullian a rather mean disposition, one whose uncompromising character would eagerly grasp at a way out of such importunities offered by an impending millennium. Nevertheless he may well express, albeit in harsh terms, an underlying sentiment, though one less attached to theological justifications than he would have it. One does find a constant association between the difficulties of marriage and the problems of raising children.178 Attitudes seem to be linked more closely to the economic basis of the household: the stratagems for succession, avoidance of dissipation of the paternal estate, the need for economic support in old age, and the ways in which wealth itself affected the ideological conception of the family. The acquisition of more wealth was a process, and a fact, which had its own rationality. As it increased it made, pari passu, the difficulties and frustrations, if not agonies, of producing children seem a non-rational activity, in spite of the fact that slave nurses were more readily obtainable by persons in this same social class. The result was that, one way or another, fewer children were raised by wealthier families. "Fertility is a bother to wealthy people". Indeed. "They fear lest they, who have given birth to many children will themselves be left paupers". The solution to the problem Augustine alludes to most frequently is simply disposing of unwanted children: exposing or throwing out the newly born so that others, who do not have children, might pick them up.179 Where was the limit? For 175 En. Psalm. 127.3, 5 (CCL, 40, 1870, 1878); cf. Ep. 130.11.11 (CSEL, 44, 52- 4). 176 Tract. 7 in Iohann. 23 (CCL, 36, 80-1); cf. En. Psalm. 26.18-19 (CCL, 38, 164- 5); Ep. 89.2 (CSEL, 34.2, 419-20). 177 Tertullian, Exh. Cast. 12.5 (CCL, 2, 1032-3); ad Uxor. 1.5.1 (CCL, 1, 378). 178 See, for example, de Coniug. Adult. 2.12.12 (CSEL, 41, 395); de Bono Coniug. 6.6, 6.18 (CSEL, 41, 194-5, 210-11); Contra Faust. 22.30 (CSEL, 25.1, 624); En. Psalm. 70.i.17 (CCL, 39, 955); de Nupt. et Concup. 1.4.5, 1.15.17 (CSEL, 42, 215, 229). 179 En. Psalm. 137.8 (CCL, 40, 1983); cf. Ep. 98.6 (CSEL, 34.2, 527-8); 194.32 (CSEL. 57. 201-2). 43 some of the families with whom Augustine had acquaintance (perhaps his subdecurial peers more than others) the number was thought to be three; then the parents began to fear of having more children lest they impoverish the family. The pressing worry was, as always, the division of a limited hereditas. 180 How was the problem of excess children to be dealt with? There were methods of fertility control which must have been widely known and practised. There is a hint of the knowledge of the effects of prolonged breast-feeding of infants on birth intervals.'18 But it did not constitute a method by which fertility could suddenly and dra- matically be reduced in the way required by the economic circum- stances and perceptions outlined above; it was more in the nature of a long-term general effect on fertility, one of dubious value in the deliberate curbing of excess births when one considers the real possibilities of regular sexual activity.182 Nor, in any event, was normal sexual behaviour conducive to such solutions. The sexual marauding of married women by men, alluded to above, though provoked by fear of pregnancy, was done to disguise possible results, not to prevent them. "Drunken" and "excessive" husbands do not even spare their pregnant wives, reports Augustine; but then, by his own admission, the drunken and the excessive were legion in the local community.183 Christian ideology hypostatized the lower-class mores of conjugal sexual love which held that intercourse was for the procreation of children only.184 A veritable avalanche of normative Christian declarations made this the regula regularum of normal sexual behaviour. Alas, the very persons who issued the prescriptions were all too well aware of how few accepted them. 85 Moreover Augustine 180 Serm. 57.2.2 (PL, 38, 387); cf. de Nupt. et Concup. 1.15.17 (see n. 178 above). 181 See nn. 168-9 above; cf. M. W. Flinn, The European Demographic System, 1500- 1820 (London, 1981), pp. 39-43; for an outline of effects, especially in the so-called Third World countries of the present day, see R. V. Short, "Breast Feeding", Scientific American, ccl (Apr. 1984), pp. 35-41. 182 See, for example, the cases remarked upon in some epigraphical notices: ten children in eleven years of marriage: G. B. de Rossi, Inscriptiones Christianae Urbis Romae, iii (Rome, 1956), no. 9248. 183 See van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop, pp. 513-27, and the many references cited there; see, for example, Ep. 22 (CSEL, 34.1, 54 f.) at length. 184 The citations from Augustine, including de Bono Coniug. 17.19 (CSEL, 41, 212); Contra Faust. 15.7, 30.6 (CSEL, 25.1, 429, 755); Mor. Man. 2.18.65 (PL, 32, 1373); and de Nupt. et Concup. 1.10.11 (CSEL, 42, 223), seem to provide most of the standard repertoire; they were, however, traditional values: see E. Eyben, "Family Planning in Graeco-Roman Antiquity", Ancient Soc., xi-xiii (1980-1), pp. 5-82, at p. 19. 185 "Never, in friendly conversation have I heard anyone who is or who has been married say that he never had intercourse with his wife except when hoping for conception": de Bono Coniug. 13.15 (CSEL, 41, 208). 44 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY speaks of the situation as common where men have sex with their wives with the intent of avoiding conception.186 The means, whatever they were, could be effective. As mentioned above, Augustine himself kept a concubine for the purposes of sexual enjoyment for a period of at least fourteen years. That liaison was struck, significantly, when Augustine was about the age of sixteen; precisely, that is to say, in the immediate aftermath of his father's death. This formal concubinage, which bridged the period between his father's decease and the end of Augustine's "adolescence" (in Roman terms) was then itself brought into question by the prospect of a Christian marriage. When Augustine was engaged to marry his ten-year-old bride, he therefore rid himself of the concubine by rudely dismissing her back to Africa. But Augustine found himself unable to bear the strain of the lack of sexual contact with a woman for the less than two years he had to wait until his child-bride came of legal age. He therefore took another concubine for the purposes of sex. What is more, he kept this second woman on until he was to marry his prospective child-bride.187 Yet there was only one surviving child produced in this whole period.188 How? Augustine himself seems to speak with the voice of experience in another context: to use a certain part of a woman "against nature" is "execrable" if she is a prostitute (or, one might add, a concubine), even "more execrable" in the case of a wife. 89 No doubt. But Augustine apparently found the execrable quite acceptable for close to two decades. "Methods" like these only added pressure on the wives, slave women and concubines that were part of the male sexual domination in the household. Even so, they were never part of any prevailing mentality of birth control. To understand this statement, we must try to see reproduction as a function of all the factors affecting the household as a proprietorial concern. Given these, there was no need to draw any clear conceptual distinction between contraception, abortion and control of sub- 186 De Coniug. Adult. 2.12.12 (CSEL, 41, 396), and n. 184 above. 187 Confess. 6.15.25 (CCL, 27, 90). 188 The son, Adeodatus, is referred to as "almost fourteen years old" (annorumferme quindecim) in A.D. 387: Confess. 9.6.14 (CSEL, 33, 207). Augustine therefore must have formed the liaison with the concubine around A.D. 370/1 when he was sixteen to seventeen years old. 189 De Bono Coniug. 11.12 (CSEL, 41, 203-4) where the obvious methods concerned are oral or anal intercourse, and not coitus interruptus, the alternative most frequently discussed in modern scholarly analysis; cf. Serm. 10.5 (CCL, 41, 157; abortive potions used by meretrices); Contra Faust. 22.80 (CSEL, 25.1, 683; prostitutes work not to become pregnant); Contra Secund. 21 (CSEL, 25.2, 938-9; the same). 45 sequent births.190 Since the gross question facing families was how many surviving children they could cope with and, once that threshold was reached, how excess children could be disposed of, the prevailing mentality was less one of birth control than of "family control". Given that mentality, and reality, fertility control for most families limited itself to the practical solutions of killing, sale or exposure of excess surviving children.191 But these motives for ridding oneself of chil- dren must also be clearly separated from others, which might indeed have been even more compelling. One of the more crudely pragmatic motives was the simple profit to be made by parents who were in dire need of funds.192 The other, more exalted, was the preservation of one's honour. Augustine specifically remarks on the tremendous sense of public shame that fell on a girl who bore a child out of "legitimate" union; cruel fear of that shame, he says, compelled the mother to expose the infant.193 But in the main the problem does seem to have been one of family limitation; Augustine mentions those who do not have children picking up the exposed and raising them as their own, but that is all. The most obvious stratagem for making good this deficit, that of adoption, seems strangely absent in Augus- tine's positive observations about his world, especially in terms of 190 K. Hopkins, "Contraception in the Roman Empire", Comp. Studies in Soc. and Hist., viii (1965), pp. 124-51, is the most thorough and convincing analysis. 191 Tertullian, Apol. 9.7-8 (CCL, 1, 102-3); Ad Nat. 1.15.3-4 (CCL, 1, 33; no laws are more frequently broken and with more impunity than those against child exposure); in popular parlance such children were called "sons of the earth" (filii terrae), see Apol. 10.10 (CCL, 1, 107). Cf. Min. Fel. Oct. 30.2 (CSEL, 2, 43); Aug. Ep. 98.6 (PL, 33, 362); *Ep. 22-4 (CSEL, 88, 113-27; the "Divjak letters") which attest the problem of the exposure and sale of children by poor parents in the Hippo region to slavers as a widespread and long-standing problem; as we can see from these same letters, although he disapproved on moral grounds, Augustine did nothing effective to stop the trade. Imperial laws from Caracalla onwards seem to have had little effect; see C. Lepelley, "La crise de 1'Afrique romaine au debut du Ve siecle, d'apres les lettres nouvellement decouvertes de Saint Augustine", Comptes rendus Acad. Inscript. (1981), pp. 445-63, at pp. 455-7. For a general survey of the practice and its continuity from late antiquity into the early medieval period, see J. E. Boswell, "Expositio and Oblatio: The Abandonment of Children and the Ancient and Medieval Family", Amer. Hist. Rev., lxxxix (1984), pp. 10-33. 192 The behaviour was linked not only to economic necessity, but also to the whole spectrum of hire/rent and sale of children and their labour: see M. Humbert, "Enfants a louer ou a vendre: Augustin et l'autorite parentale (Ep. 10* et 24*)", in Les lettres de Saint Augustin decouvertes par Johannes Divjak (Paris, 1983), pp. 190-204. 193 Ep. 194.32 (CSEL, 57, 201-2): "The infant born in unholy sexual union (stuprum) is exposed because of the cruel fear of its mother, in the hope that it will be picked up because of the holy pity of others"; the moral circumstances were ones rooted in traditional mores, but Christianity served in part to strengthen the prejudice and worsen the situation: see K. Wrightson, "Infanticide in European History", Criminal Justice Hist., iii (1982), pp. 1-20, esp. pp. 5 ff. 46 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY quantity of references. Almost all Augustine's references to adoption are of a purely metaphoric nature. In one rather significant passage, however, he does explicitly state that many men who have reached old age without a son turn to the mechanism of adoption to provide an heir. The whole passage in question is rather important since it specifically attests adoption as a strategy of heirship, but one that was primarily used as a last resort when the childless male head of the family reached old age. Augustine states that if a man has no sons when he reaches old age, he has recourse to adoption; but if he has only one son he is especially happy and fortunate since it means that his natural son will possess everything alone and will not have to divide the inheritance with anyone.194 No doubt such formal adoptions (that is, other than the simple acquisition of abandoned infants) were a not infrequent part of family formation in Augustine's world, but it is perhaps noteworthy that references to real cases by Augustine are so rare. What do these Augustinian experiences, observations and advice on the family, sex and marriage in late antiquity signify? Above all, I think, it is that the conception and practice of the family were integrally linked to the other dominant social relations in society with ties that were different in kind and strength from those that bind families to society in our day. The single overwhelming idea imparted by Augustine about his family, an idea which derived from his own experience, and which certainly applied to the households of his peers and a fortiori to most households of the time, is that the family was the unit of social and economic production and reproduction. Slaves, nurses, boarders and others were organized through this unit. Family relationships were largely determined by the simple need for the maintenance and transmission of the property required to continue an economic existence. At the same time, however, these other ties (of property, of social relations, of political power) were not ones that 194 Tract. 2 in Iohann. 2.1.13 (CCL, 36, 17-18): "He was born a sole child, and does not want to remain alone. Many men who do not have children (sons) of their own, when they have reached old age, adopt one; and by their own volition do what nature was not able to do for them: they create offspring. If, moreover, someone has only one son, he is all the more joyous, because that son alone will become owner of everything, and will not have anyone else with whom he will have to divide the inheritance, and become poorer for the fact", and the rest of this passage in the same vein; cf. de Consens. Evang. 3.5 (PL, 34, 1073); Serm. 51.16 (PL, 38, 348); 61.16 (PL, 38, 348); *de Unit. Trin. 6 (PL, 42, 1161; the distinction between natural and adopted sons, but in a purely metaphorical context); cf. Biondo Biondi, II diritto romano cristiano, iii: lafamiglia, rapporti patnmoniali, diritto publico (Milan, 1954), pp. 59-68. 47 encouraged the growth of families into extended or complex types. They did, however, encapsulate and systematically enclose the kin- core of the conjugal family and children in a web of social obligations that dominated it. Within this network and within the household, it is true, primary obligations focused on the nuclear and conjugal family. Power was perceived as running through these relationships to the wider society in a way that allowed no absolute disjunction between them of the type found in our society. Patronage was one of the most important of these resource networks that ran alongside kinship, friendship and neighbourliness.195 But if the clients were seen as veritable "parts" of their patron's "body", then there was no impediment to his domination being as great as that of an owner or a father. 196 How indeed could relations be conceived except through the vocabulary that was used to express them? The very same word, lord (dominus), was deployed indiscriminately for the four dominant relations that ran through the society: those of God, property owner (often linked to that of slave master), patron and father.197 Likewise, dominus was integrally linked to domus (household) and to a whole host of terms signifying power, repression and control - in short, domination: domare (to domesticate, to tame), dominatio (domi- nation), dominium (control, ownership) and many others. These were the words that people spoke, and the relationships they expressed were part of a consistent set that emphasized those wider social networks at the expense of isolated nuclear-family attachments. They were part of a whole hierarchy of duties that were tied to the distribution of material resources in the society. Augustine lists them in a series of concentric obligations extending outwards from ego and his interests: parentes, fratres, coniunx, liberi, propinqui, affines, familiares, civitas and then ego's property, with the "I" and his "property" confining the set. Between the city and personal property 195 Serm. 130.5 (PL, 38, 728). 196 *Ep. 10.4-9 (CSEL, 88, 48-51). 197 These common denominators of power, personal relationships and ideology are hardly unusual for this type of society, see Greven, Four Generations; and the following observations by R. Isaac, The Transformation of Virginia, 1740-1790 (Chapel Hill, 1982), p. 346: "The reference to Nassau's father reminds us forcibly of the constrictive closeness of this world of ongoing generational face-to-face interaction. Therein we see clearly the social context of the comprehensive metaphor of fatherhood, encompassing as it did all order and rebellion, crime and punishment, suffering and relief. The close intimacy of extended household relationships was projected onto the cosmic order by the metaphor of the Father-Creator". The matter of the vocabulary of domination was already noted some years ago by M. Bang, "Uber den Gebrauch der Anrede Domine im gemeinden Leben", appendix ix in L. Friedlander, Sittengeschichte Roms, 10th edn. (Leipzig, 1922), pp. 82-8. 48 PAST AND PRESENT NUMBER 115 THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY stood a pair of balanced quasi-material properties no less integral to the list: honores and gloria popularis, to be acquired in dialectical action and therefore placed in order before those things that fell within the uncontested dominium of the person concerned.'98 We may summarize as follows. Given the dominant patterns of relationships that determined the make-up and place of the family in Roman society, at least in the lower middling to upper classes, no person from these social groups who heard the words familia or domus would ever have taken them to mean what "family" does to us. To him or her the words necessarily implied the whole network of relationships of the household, including slaves, nurses, concubines, boarders and others, that formed it. The nuclear-family unit was, so to speak, nested within this conception, like the innermost unit of a series of Chinese boxes. But these other relationships into which it was integrally knit obscured a clear definition of the nuclear family as a dominant social unit. The nuclear family did exist, and primary obligations were indeed focused on it, but there was no vocabulary to express its separate existence; instead speakers had to resort to circumlocutions like "yours", "his", "the wife and kids" (sui, tui, uxor et liberi) since familia and domus meant other things entirely.199 In all of this, the systematic linkage with forms of property including, above all, slaves seems the paramount determinant force in shaping the Roman family. There are, however, two cautionary points. The first is that what 198 De Libr. Arbit. 1.15.32 (CCL, 29, 233), "The city/state itself, which is usually held to be in the place of a parent; the honours and the praise, and those things which are called popular glory, and in final place money, under which heading are contained all those things of which we are masters/owners by law and over which we seem to have the power of buying and selling". Note two things: the substantiation of "honour" as a quasi-material thing (see n. 82 above), and how public/official honour is balanced with public/popular honour, and how both are tied into the civitas acting in loco parentis. 199 See, for example, nn. 95, 97; Ep. 130.2.5-6 (CSEL, 44, 45-7); and defide rerum quae non videntur, 2.4 (PL, 40, 173), an extended discussion of how amicitia knits together different kinship relationships, in which, of all the different relationships named by Augustine (including gener, socer, cognates and affines) the sui clearly represent the core parent-child(ren) nexus. There are many other examples. In this attitude, Augustine reflects a traditional Roman view, as can be seen from the tombstones of the principate where the sui are the nuclear family as opposed to the freed slaves, other dependants and relatives. This default in vocabulary continued to mark many early modern European societies: see Wheaton, "Recent Trends in the Historical Study of the French Family", pp. 6 f., referring to Mousnier and Flandrin, with a demographic explanation. Demographic factors no doubt played a part in the phenomenon, but I remain convinced that the broader social forces outlined in this article were the principal cause, at least for the Roman family. 49 we can see is a class phenomenon. The question then arises: how many households were there in Roman society that were, so to speak, stripped to the core, that were not integrally linked with slaves, dependants, concubines, boarders, and so on, so that for the persons in them the use of familia and domus would conjure up little more than what they had? Secondly, we should not be misled by our main conclusions here into devaluing the importance of the nuclear family. Clearly it was the formative base of the larger family. Ownership was paramount, and it was a power that ran through persons of free status, through the father, his sons, his wife and daughters. They defined the existence of the larger family, not the host of dependants. If the primary owners were obliterated, the family ceased to exist.200 But in the Roman world catastrophes that suddenly and completely ended families were perhaps rare; the two parts of the family thus remained in an integral and dialectical relationship that defined its conception. This observation should not mislead us to opt for the opposite end of the spectrum, as it were, and to embrace the conception of the elite Roman family as a true extended family or agnatic lineage. This it was not. Recourse to such categories only reflects trends which were once dominant in family studies when the field was trapped by a threefold classificatory system: the extended family, the stem family and the nuclear family. One of the results of the veritable revolution in family studies in the last two decades has been the final abandon- ment of these simplicities in favour of a more complex typology of the family.201 The Roman family does not fit very well into any of the earlier simple categories. In practice and in vocabulary it was neither a true nuclear family nor an extended-kin family, much less an agnatic lineage. For the middling ranks of Roman society, at least, the family was a more complex aggregate that included assemblages of persons attached in an integral way to a discernible nuclear core. This structure could change only when the economic forces that delineated it themselves changed, so that slaves (including nurses and concubines), clientelistic dependants, migrant agricultural labourers and other additions could be systematically stripped from the kin- core of the family. Economic independence for sons, and daughters, the development of peer groups for the children, and similar changes also transformed relationships within the kin-core itself. Nevertheless 200 Compare the example of the behaviour of the dependants upon the death of a dominus and domina in Apuleius, Metamorphoses, 8.1 ff. 201 Laslett, "Family and Household as Work Group and Kin Group", pp. 513-63. 50 NUMBER 115 PAST AND PRESENT THE FAMILY IN LATE ANTIQUITY this Roman family was clearly a distinctive social unit that deserves inclusion in the type of urban-centred household in the west which forms the dividing line between the simpler types of society that have traditionally been the domain of the ethnologist and the more complex types that have been the territory of the historian.202 But, more than this, it also seems to have been of a distinctive type that stands directly in the main line of the development of family life in the west, as opposed to the family types found in the eastern Mediterranean in antiquity which were part of a different world of sentiment, depen- dence and behaviour. University of Lethbridge, Alberta Brent D. Shaw 202 C. Levi-Strauss, "Histoire et ethnologie", Annales E.S.C., xxxvi (1983), pp. 1217-31. 51