Chapter III. Education And Death
One of the lesson-books used in the Babylonian nursery contains the beginning of a story, written in Sumerian and translated into Semitic, which describes the adventures of a foundling who was picked up in the streets and adopted by the King. We are told that he was taken “from the mouth of the dogs and ravens,” and was then brought to the asip or “prophet,” who marked the soles of his feet with his seal. What the precise object of this procedure was it is difficult to say, but the custom is alluded to in the Old Testament (Job xiii. 27). Certain tribes in the south of China still brand the soles of a boy's feet, for the purpose, it is said, of testing his strength and hardihood.
After the operation was performed the boy was handed over to a “nurse,” to whom his “bread, food, shirt, and (other) clothing were assured for three years.” At the same time, we may assume, he received a name. This giving of a name was an important event in the child's life. Like other nations of antiquity the Babylonians conformed the name with the person who bore it; it not only represented him, but in a sense was actually himself. Magical [pg 045] properties were ascribed to the name, and it thus became of importance to know what names were good or bad, lucky or unlucky. An unlucky name brought evil fortune to its possessor, a lucky name secured his success in life. A change of name influenced a man's career; and the same superstitious belief which caused the Cape of Storms to become the Cape of Good Hope not unfrequently occasioned a person's name to be altered among the nations of the ancient East.
The gods themselves were affected by the names they bore. A knowledge of the secret and ineffable name of a deity was the key to a knowledge of his inner essence and attributes, and conferred a power over him upon the fortunate possessor of it. The patron god of the dynasty to which Khammurabi belonged was spoken of as “the Name,” Sumu or Samu, the Shem of the Old Testament; his real title was too sacred to be uttered in speech. The name of a thing was the thing itself, and so too the name of a god or person was the actual god or person to whom it was attached.
A large proportion of Babylonian names includes the name of some divinity. In spite of their length and unwieldiness they tended to increase in number as time went on. In ordinary life, however, they were frequently shortened. In the contract given in the last chapter, the slave Rimanni-Bel is said to have been usually called Rimut, the one name signifying “Love me, O Bel,” the other “Love.” In other instances we find Samas-musezib contracted into Samsiya and Suzub, Kabti-ilâni-Merodach into [pg 046] Kabtiya, Nebo-tabni-uzur into Tabniya. The Belesys of Greek writers is the Babylonian Balasu, which is a shortened form of Merodach-balasu-iqbi, and Baladan, which is given in the Old Testament as the name of the father of Merodach-baladan, has lost the name of the god with which it must originally have begun.
Sometimes a change in the form of the name was due to its being of foreign origin and consequently mispronounced by the Babylonians, who assimilated it to words in their own language. Thus Sargon of Akkad was properly called Sargani, “The Strong One,” or, more fully, Sargani-sar-ali, “Sargani, the King of the City,” but his Sumerian subjects turned this into Sar-gina or Sargon, “The Established King.” The grandson of Khammurabi bore the Canaanitish name of Abesukh, the Abishua of the Israelites, “The Father of Welfare,” but it was transformed by the Babylonians into Ebisum, which in their own dialect meant “The Actor.” Eri-Aku or Arioch was an Elamite name signifying “The Servant of the Moon-god;” the Babylonians changed it into Rim-Sin and perhaps even Rim-Anu, “Love, O Moon-god,” “Love, O Sky-god.”
At other times the name was changed for political or superstitious reasons. When the successful general Pul usurped the throne of Assyria he adopted the name of one of the most famous of the kings of the older dynasty, Tiglath-pileser. His successor, another usurper, called Ululâ, similarly adopted the name of Shalmaneser, another famous king of the earlier dynasty. It is probable that Sargon, who was also [pg 047] a usurper, derived his name from Sargon of Akkad, and that his own name was originally something else. Sennacherib tells us that Esar-haddon had a second name, or surname, by which he was known to his neighbors. In this respect he was like Solomon of Israel, who was also called Jedidiah.
It is doubtful whether circumcision was practised in Babylonia. There is no reference to it in the inscriptions, nor is it mentioned by classical writers as among Babylonian customs. In fact, the words of the Greek historian Herodotus seem to exclude the practice, as the Babylonians are not one of the nations of Western Asia who are said by him to have learnt the rite from the Egyptians. Moreover, Abraham and his family were not circumcised until long after he had left Babylonia and had established himself in Canaan. Africa, rather than Asia, seems to have been the original home of the rite.
If the boy were the son of well-to-do parents he was sent to school at an early age. One of the texts which, in Sumerian days, was written as a head-line in his copy-book declared that “He who would excel in the school of the scribes must rise like the dawn.” Girls also shared in the education given to their brothers. Among the Babylonian letters that have been preserved are some from ladies, and the very fact that women could transact business on their own account implies that they could read and write. Thus the following letter, written from Babylon by a lover to his mistress at Sippara, assumes that she could read it and return an answer: “To the lady Kasbeya thus says Gimil-Merodach: May the Sun-god [pg 048] and Merodach, for my sake, grant thee everlasting life! I am writing to enquire after your health; please send me news of it. I am living at Babylon, but have not seen you, which troubles me greatly. Send me news of your arrival, so that I may be happy. Come in the month Marchesvan. May you live forever, for my sake!” The Tel-el-Amarna collection actually contains letters from a lady to the Egyptian Pharaoh. One of them is as follows: “To the king my lord, my gods, my sun-god, thus says Nin, thy handmaid: At the feet of the king my lord, my gods, my sun-god, seven times seven I prostrate myself. The king my lord knows that there is war in the land, and that all the country of the king my lord has revolted to the Bedâwin. But the king my lord has knowledge of his country, and the king my lord knows that the Bedâwin have sent to the city of Ajalon and to the city of Zorah, and have made mischief (and have intrigued with) the two sons of Malchiel; and let the king my lord take knowledge of this fact.”
The oracles delivered to Esar-haddon by the prophetesses of Arbela are in writing, and we have no grounds for thinking that they were written down by an uninspired pen. Indeed, the “bit riduti,” or “place of education,” where Assur-bani-pal tells us he had been brought up, was the woman's part of the palace. The instructors, however, were men, and part of the boy's education, we are informed, consisted in his being taught to shoot with the bow and to practise other bodily exercises. But the larger part of his time was given to learning how to read and write. [pg 049] The acquisition of the cuneiform system of writing was a task of labor and difficulty which demanded years of patient application. A vast number of characters had to be learned by heart. They were conventional signs, often differing but slightly from one another, with nothing about them that could assist the memory; moreover, their forms varied in different styles of writing, as much as Latin, Gothic, and cursive forms of type differ among ourselves, and all these the pupil was expected to know. Every character had more than one phonetic value; many of them, indeed, had several, while they could also be used ideographically to express objects and ideas. But this was not all. A knowledge of the cuneiform syllabary necessitated also a knowledge of the language of the Sumerians, who had been its inventors, and it frequently happened that a group of characters which had expressed a Sumerian word was retained in the later script with the pronunciation of the corresponding Semitic word attached to them, though the latter had nothing to do with the phonetic values of the several signs, whether pronounced singly or as a whole.
The children, however, must have been well taught. This is clear from the remarkably good spelling which we find in the private letters; it is seldom that words are misspelt. The language may be conversational, or even dialectic, but the words are written correctly. The school-books that have survived bear testimony to the attention that had been given to improving the educational system. Every means was adopted for lessening the labor of the [pg 050] student and imprinting the lesson upon his mind. The cuneiform characters had been classified and named; they had also been arranged according to the number and position of the separate wedges of which they consisted. Dictionaries had been compiled of Sumerian words and expressions, as well as lists of Semitic synonyms. Even grammars had been drawn up, in which the grammatical forms of the old language of Sumer were interpreted in Semitic Babylonian. There were reading-books filled with extracts from the standard literature of the country. Most of this was in Sumerian; but the Sumerian text was provided with a Semitic translation, sometimes interlinear, sometimes in a parallel column. Commentaries, moreover, had been written upon the works of ancient authors, in which difficult or obsolete terms were explained. The pupils were trained to write exercises, either from a copy placed before them or from memory. These exercises served a double purpose—they taught the pupil how to write and spell, as well as the subject which the exercise illustrated. A list of the kings of the dynasty to which Khammurabi belonged has come to us, for instance, in one of them. In this way history and geography were impressed upon the student's memory, together with extracts from the poets and prose-writers of the past.
The writing material was clay. Papyrus, it is true, was occasionally used, but it was expensive, while clay literally lay under the feet of everyone. While the clay was still soft, the cuneiform or “wedge-shaped” characters were engraved upon it by means [pg 051] of a stylus. They had originally been pictorial, but when the use of clay was adopted the pictures necessarily degenerated into groups of wedge-like lines, every curve becoming an angle formed by the junction of two lines. As time went on, the characters were more and more simplified, the number of wedges of which they consisted being reduced and only so many left as served to distinguish one sign from another. The simplification reached its extreme point in the official script of Assyria.
At first the clay tablet after being inscribed was allowed to dry in the sun. But sun-dried clay easily crumbles, and the fashion accordingly grew up of baking the tablet in a kiln. In Assyria, where the heat of the sun was not so great as in the southern kingdom of Babylonia, the tablet was invariably baked, holes being first drilled in it to allow the escape of the moisture and to prevent it from cracking. Some of the early Babylonian tablets were of great size, and it is wonderful that they have lasted to our own days. But the larger the tablet, the more difficult it was to bake it safely, and consequently the most of the tablets are of small size. As it was often necessary to compress a long text into this limited space, the writing became more and more minute, and in many cases a magnifying glass is needed to read it properly. That such glasses were really used by the Assyrians is proved by Layard's discovery of a magnifying lens at Nineveh. The lens, which is of crystal, has been turned on a lathe, and is now in the British Museum. But even with the help of lenses, the study of the cuneiform tablets encouraged short [pg 052] sight, which must have been common in the Babylonian schools. In the case of Assur-bani-pal this was counteracted by the out-of-door exercises in which he was trained, and it is probable that similar exercises were also customary in Babylonia.
A book generally consisted of several tablets, which may consequently be compared with our chapters. At the end of each tablet was a colophon stating what was its number in the series to which it belonged, and giving the first line of the next tablet. The series received its name from the words with which it began; thus the fourth tablet or chapter of the “Epic of the Creation” states that it contains “one hundred and forty-six lines of the fourth tablet (of the work beginning) ‘When on high unproclaimed,’ ” and adds the first line of the tablet which follows. Catalogues were made of the standard books to be found in a library, giving the name of the author and the first line of each; so that it was easy for the reader or librarian to find both the work he wanted and the particular chapter in it he wished to consult. The books were arranged on shelves; M. de Sarzec discovered about 32,000 of them at Tello in Southern Chaldea still in the order in which they had been put in the age of Gudea (2700 B.C.).
Literature of every kind was represented. History and chronology, geography and law, private and public correspondence, despatches from generals and proclamations of the king, philology and mathematics, natural science in the shape of lists of bears and birds, insects and stones, astronomy and astrology, theology and the pseudo-science of omens, all found a place [pg 053] on the shelves, as well as poems and purely literary works. Copies of deeds and contracts, of legal decisions, and even inventories of the property of private individuals, were also stored in the libraries of Babylonia and Assyria, which were thus libraries and archive-chambers in one. In Babylonia every great city had its collection of books, and scribes were kept constantly employed in it, copying and re-editing the older literature, or providing new works for readers. The re-editing was done with scrupulous care. Where a character was lost in the original text by a fracture of the tablet, the copyist stated the fact, and added whether the loss was recent or not. Where the form of the character was uncertain, both the signs which it resembled are given. Some idea may be formed of the honesty and care with which the Babylonian scribes worked from the fact that the compiler of the Babylonian Chronicle, which contains a synopsis of later Babylonian history, frankly states that he does “not know” the date of the battle of Khalulê, which was fought between the Babylonians and Sennacherib. The materials at his disposal did not enable him to settle it. It so happens that we are in a more fortunate position, as we are able to fix it with the help of the annals of the Assyrian King.
New texts were eagerly collected. The most precious spoils sent to Assur-bani-pal after the capture of the revolted Babylonian cities were tablets containing works which the library of Nineveh did not possess. The Babylonians and Assyrians made war upon men, not upon books, which were, moreover, [pg 054] under the protection of the gods. The library was usually within the walls of a temple; sometimes it was part of the archives of the temple itself. Hence the copying of a text was often undertaken as a pious work, which brought down upon the scribe the blessing of heaven and even the remission of his sins. That the library was open to the public we may infer from the character of some of the literature contained in it. This included private letters as well as contracts and legal documents which could be interesting only to the parties whom they concerned.
The school must have been attached to the library, and was probably an adjacent building. This will explain the existence of the school-exercises which have come from the library of Nineveh, as well as the reading-books and other scholastic literature which were stored within it. At the same time, when we remember the din of an oriental school, where the pupils shout their lessons at the top of their voices, it is impossible to suppose that the scribes and readers would have been within ear-shot. Nor was it probable that there was only one school in a town of any size. The practice of herding large numbers of boys or girls together in a single school-house is European rather than Asiatic.
The school in later times developed into a university. At Borsippa, the suburb of Babylon, where the library had been established in the temple of Nebo, we learn from Strabo that a university also existed which had attained great celebrity. From a fragment of a Babylonian medical work, now in the British [pg 055] Museum, we may perhaps infer that it was chiefly celebrated as a school of medicine.
In Assyria education was mainly confined to the upper classes. The trading classes were perforce obliged to learn how to read and write; so also were the officials and all those who looked forward to a career in the diplomatic service. But learning was regarded as peculiarly the profession of the scribes, who constituted a special class and occupied an important position in the bureaucracy. They acted as clerks and secretaries in the various departments of state, and stereotyped a particular form of cuneiform script, which we may call the chancellor's hand, and which, through their influence, was used throughout the country. In Babylonia it was otherwise. Here a knowledge of writing was far more widely spread, and one of the results was that varieties of handwriting became as numerous as they are in the modern world. The absence of a professional class of scribes prevented any one official hand from becoming universal. We find even the son of an “irrigator,” one of the poorest and lowest members of the community, copying a portion of the “Epic of the Creation,” and depositing it in the library of Borsippa for the good of his soul. Indeed, the contract tablets show that the slaves themselves could often read and write. The literary tendencies of Assur-bani-pal doubtless did much toward the spread of education in Assyria, but the latter years of his life were troubled by disastrous wars, and the Assyrian empire and kingdom came to an end soon after his death.
Education, as we have seen, meant a good deal more [pg 056] than merely learning the cuneiform characters. It meant, in the case of the Semitic Babylonians and Assyrians, learning the ancient agglutinative language of Sumer as well. In later times this language ceased to be spoken except in learned society, and consequently bore the same relation to Semitic Babylonian that Latin bears to English. In learning Sumerian, therefore, the Babylonian learned what was equivalent to Latin in the modern world. And the mode of teaching it was much the same. There were the same paradigms to be committed to memory, the same lists of words and phrases to be learned by heart, the same extracts from the authors of the past to be stored up in the mind. Even the “Hamiltonian” system of learning a dead language had already been invented. Exercises were set in translation from Sumerian into Babylonian, and from Babylonian into Sumerian, and the specimens of the latter which have survived to us show that “dog-Latin” was not unknown.
But the dead language of Sumer was not all that the educated Babylonian or Assyrian gentlemen of later times was called upon to know. In the eighth century before our era Aramaic had become the common medium of trade and diplomacy. If Sumerian was the Latin of the Babylonian world, Aramaic was its French. The Aramaic dialects seem to have been the result of a contact between the Semitic languages of Arabia and Canaan, and the rising importance of the tribes who spoke them and who occupied Mesopotamia and Northern Arabia caused them to become the language of trade. Aramaic merchants were settled on the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris, [pg 057] and conveyed the products of Babylonia and Phœnicia from one country to the other. Many of the commercial firms in Babylonia were of Aramaic origin, and it was natural that some part at least of their business should have been carried on in the language of their fathers.
Hence it was that, when the Rab-shakeh or Vizier of Sennacherib appeared before Jerusalem and summoned its inhabitants to submit to the Assyrian King, he was asked by the ministers of Hezekiah to speak in “Aramæan.” It was taken for granted that Aramaic was known to an Assyrian official and diplomatist just as it was to the Jewish officials themselves. The Rab-shakeh, however, knew the Hebrew language as well, and found it more to his purpose to use it in addressing the Jews.
Here, then, we have an Assyrian officer who is acquainted not only with Sumerian, but also with two of the living languages of Western Asia. And yet he was not a scribe; he did not belong to the professional class of learned men. Nothing can show more clearly the advanced state of education even in the military kingdom of Assyria. In Babylonia learning had always been honored; from the days of Sargon of Akkad onward the sons of the reigning king did not disdain to be secretaries and librarians.
The linguistic training undergone in the schools gave the Babylonian a taste for philology. He not only compiled vocabularies of the extinct Sumerian, which were needed for practical reasons, he also explained the meaning of the names of the foreign kings who had reigned over Babylonia, and from [pg 058] time to time noted the signification of words belonging to the various languages by which he was surrounded. Thus one of the tablets we possess contains a list of Kassite or Kossean words with their signification; in other cases we have Mitannian, Elamite, and Canaanite words quoted, with their meanings attached to them. Nor did the philological curiosity of the scribe end here. He busied himself with the etymology of the words in his own language, and just as a couple of centuries ago our own dictionary-makers endeavored to find derivations for all English words, whatever their source, in Latin and Greek, so, too, the Babylonian etymologist believed that the venerable language of Sumer was the key to the origin of his own. Many of the words in Semitic Babylonian were indeed derived from it, and accordingly Sumerian etymologies were found for other words which were purely Semitic. The word Sabattu, “the Sabbath,” for instance, was derived from the Sumerian Sa, “heart,” and bat, “to cease,” and so interpreted to mean the day on which “the heart ceased” from its labors.
History, too, was a favorite subject of study. Like the Hebrews, the Assyrians were distinguished by a keen historical sense which stands in curious contrast to the want of it which characterized the Egyptian. The Babylonians also were distinguished by the same quality, though perhaps to a less extent than their Assyrian neighbors, whose somewhat pedantic accuracy led them to state the exact numbers of the slain and captive in every small skirmish, and the name of every petty prince with whom they came [pg 059] into contact, and who had invented a system of accurately registering dates at a very early period. Nevertheless, the Babylonian was also a historian; the necessities of trade had obliged him to date his deeds and contracts from the earliest age of his history, and to compile lists of kings and dynasties for reference in case of a disputed title to property. The historical honesty to which he had been trained is illustrated by the author of the Babylonian Chronicle in the passage relating to the battle of Khalulê, which has been already alluded to. The last king of Babylonia was himself an antiquarian, and had a passion for excavating and discovering the records of the monarchs who had built the great temples of Chaldea.
Law, again, must have been much studied, and so, too, was theology. The library of Nineveh, however, from which so much of our information has come, gives us an exaggerated idea of the extent to which the pseudo-science of omens and portents was cultivated. Its royal patron was a believer in them, and apparently more interested in the subject than in any other. Consequently, the number of books relating to it are out of all proportion to the rest of the literature in the library. But this was an accident, due to the predilections of Assur-bani-pal himself.
The study of omens and portents was a branch of science and not of theology, false though the science was. But it was based upon the scientific principle that every antecedent has a consequent, its fallacy consisting in a confusion between real causes and mere antecedents. Certain events had been observed [pg 060] to follow certain phenomena; it was accordingly assumed that they were the results of the phenomena, and that were the phenomena to happen again they would be followed by the same results. Hence all extraordinary or unusual occurrences were carefully noted, together with whatever had been observed to come after them. A strange dog, for instance, had been observed to enter a palace and there lie down on a couch; as no disaster took place subsequently it was believed that if the occurrence was repeated it would be an omen of good fortune. On the other hand, the fall of a house had been preceded by the birth of a child without a mouth; the same result, it was supposed, would again accompany the same presage of evil. These pseudo-scientific observations had been commenced at a very early period of Babylonian history, and were embodied in a great work which was compiled for the library of Sargon of Akkad.
Another work compiled for the same library, and containing observations which started from a similarly fallacious theory, was one in seventy-two books on the pseudo-science of astrology, which was called “The Illumination of Bel.” But in this case the observations were not wholly useless. The study of astrology was intermixed with that of astronomy, of which Babylonia may be considered to be the birthplace. The heavens had been mapped out and the stars named; the sun's course along the ecliptic had been divided into the twelve zodiacal signs, and a fairly accurate calendar had been constructed. Hundreds of observations had been made of the [pg 061] eclipses of the sun and moon, and the laws regulating them had been so far ascertained that, first, eclipses of the moon, and then, but with a greater element of uncertainty, eclipses of the sun, were able to be predicted. One of the chapters or books in the “Illumination of Bel” was devoted to an account of comets, another dealt with conjunctions of the sun and moon. There were also tables of observations relating to the synodic revolution of the moon and the synodic periods of the planet Venus. The year was divided into twelve months of thirty days each, an intercalary month being inserted from time to time to rectify the resulting error in the length of the year. The months had been originally called after the signs of the zodiac, whose names have come down to ourselves with comparatively little change. But by the side of the lunar year the Babylonians also used a sidereal year, the star Capella being taken as a fixed point in the sky, from which the distance of the sun could be measured at the beginning of the year, the moon being used as a mere pointer for the purpose. At a later date, however, this mode of determining time was abandoned, and the new year was made directly dependent on the vernal equinox. The month was subdivided into weeks of seven days, each of which was consecrated to a particular deity.
These deities were further identified with the stars. The fact that the sun and moon, as well as the evening and morning stars, were already worshipped as divinities doubtless led the way to this system of astro-theology. But it seems never to have spread [pg 062] beyond the learned classes and to have remained to the last an artificial system. The mass of the people worshipped the stars as a whole, but it was only as a whole and not individually. Their identification with the gods of the state religion might be taught in the schools and universities, but it had no meaning for the nation at large.
From the beginning of the Babylonian's life we now pass to the end. Unlike the Egyptian he had no desert close at hand in which to bury his dead, no limestone cliffs, as in Palestine, wherein a tomb might be excavated. It was necessary that the burial should be in the plain of Babylonia, the same plain as that in which he lived, and with which the overflow of the rivers was constantly infiltrating. The consequences were twofold. On the one hand, the tomb had to be constructed of brick, for stone was not procurable; on the other hand, sanitary reasons made cremation imperative. The Babylonian corpse was burned as well as buried, and the brick sepulchre that was raised above it adjoined the cities of the living.
The corpse was carried to the grave on a bier, accompanied by the mourners. Among these the wailing women were prominent, who tore their hair and threw dust upon their heads. The cemetery to which the dead was carried was a city in itself, to which the Sumerians had given the name of Ki-makh or “vast place.” It was laid out in streets, the tombs on either side answering to the houses of a town. Not infrequently gardens were planted before them, while rivulets of “living water” flowed through the [pg 063] streets and were at times conducted into the tomb. The water symbolized the life that the pious Babylonian hoped to enjoy in the world to come. It relieved the thirst of the spirit in the underground world of Hades, where an old myth had declared that “dust only was its food,” and it was at the same time an emblem of those “waters of life” which were believed to bubble up beneath the throne of the goddess of the dead.
When the corpse reached the cemetery it was laid upon the ground wrapped in mats of reed and covered with asphalt. It was still dressed in the clothes and ornaments that had been worn during life. The man had his seal and his weapons of bronze or stone; the woman her spindle-wheel and thread; the child his necklace of shells. In earlier times all was then thickly coated with clay, above which branches of palm, terebinth, and other trees were placed, and the whole was set on fire. At a more recent period ovens of brick were constructed in which the corpse was put in its coffin of clay and reeds, but withdrawn before cremation was complete. The skeletons of the dead are consequently often found in a fair state of preservation, as well as the objects which were buried with them.
While the body was being burned offerings were made, partly to the gods, partly to the dead man himself. They consisted of dates, calves and sheep, birds and fish, which were consumed along with the corpse. Certain words were recited at the same time, derived for the most part from the sacred books of ancient Sumer.
[pg 064]After the ceremony was over a portion of the ashes was collected and deposited in an urn, if the cremation had been complete. In the later days, when this was not the case, the half-burnt body was allowed to remain on the spot where it had been laid, and an aperture was made in the shell of clay with which it was covered. The aperture was intended to allow a free passage to the spirit of the dead, so that it might leave its burial-place to enjoy the food and water that were brought to it. Over the whole a tomb was built of bricks, similar to that in which the urn was deposited when the body was completely burned.
The tombs of the rich resembled the houses in which they had lived on earth and contained many chambers. In these their bodies were cremated and interred. Sometimes a house was occupied by a single corpse only; at other times it became a family burial-place, where the bodies were laid in separate chambers. Sometimes tombstones were set up commemorating the name and deeds of the deceased; at other times statues representing them were erected instead.
The tomb had a door, like a house, through which the relatives and friends of the dead man passed from time to time in order to furnish him with the food and sustenance needed by his spirit in the world below. Vases were placed in the sepulchre, filled with dates and grain, wine and oil, while the rivulet which flowed beside it provided water in abundance. All this was required in that underworld where popular belief pictured the dead as flitting like bats in the gloom and darkness, and where the heroes of old [pg 065] time sat, strengthless and ghostlike, on their shadowy thrones.
The kings were allowed to be burned and buried in the palace in which they had lived and ruled. We read of one of them that he was interred in “the palace of Sargon” of Akkad, of another that his burial had taken place in the palace he himself had erected. A similar privilege was granted to their subjects only by royal permission.
Want of space caused the tombs of the dead to be built one upon the other, as generations passed away and the older sepulchres crumbled into dust. The cemetery thus resembled the city; here, too, one generation built upon the ruins of its predecessor. The houses and tombs were alike constructed of sun-dried bricks, which soon disintegrate and form a mound of dust. The age of a cemetery, like the age of a city, may accordingly be measured by the number of successive layers of building of which its mound or platform is composed. In Babylonia they are numerous, for the history of the country goes back to a remote past. Each city clustered round a temple, venerable for its antiquity as well as for its sanctity, and the cemetery which stood near it was consequently under the protection of its god. At Cutha the necropolis was so vast that Nergal, the god of the town, came to be known as the “lord of the dead.” But the cemeteries of other towns were also of enormous size. Western Asia had received its culture and the elements of its theology from Babylonia, and Babylonia consequently was a sacred land not only to the Babylonians themselves, but to [pg 066] all those who shared their civilization. The very soil was holy ground; Assyrians as well as Babylonians desired that their bodies should rest in it. Here they were in the charge, as it were, of Bel of Nippur or Merodach of Babylon, and within sight of the ancient sanctuaries in which those gods were worshipped. This explains in part the size of the cemeteries; the length of time during which they were used will explain the rest. As Dr. Peters says of each:4 “It is difficult to convey anything like a correct notion of the piles upon piles of human relics which there utterly astound the spectator. Excepting only the triangular space between the three principal ruins, the whole remainder of the platform, the whole space between the walls, and an unknown extent of desert beyond them, are everywhere filled with the bones and sepulchres of the dead. There is probably no other site in the world which can compare with Warka in this respect.”
Babylonia is still a holy land to the people of Western Asia. The old feeling in regard to it still survives, and the bodies of the dead are still carried, sometimes for hundreds of miles, to be buried in its sacred soil. Mohammedan saints have taken the place of the old gods, and a Moslem chapel represents the temple of the past, but it is still to Babylonia that the corpse is borne, often covered by costly rugs which find their way in time to an American or European drawing-room. “The old order changes, giving place to new,” but the influence of Chaldean culture and religion is not yet past.
Chapter IV. Slavery And The Free Laborer
Slavery was part of the foundation upon which Babylonian society rested. But between slavery as it existed in the ancient oriental world and slavery in the Roman or modern world there was a great difference. The slave was often of the same race as his master, sometimes of the same nationality, speaking the same language and professing the same religion. He was regarded as one of the family, and was not infrequently adopted into it. He could become a free citizen and rise to the highest offices of state. Slavery was no bar to his promotion, nor did it imprint any stigma upon him. He was frequently a skilled artisan and even possessed literary knowledge. Between his habits and level of culture and those of his owners was no marked distinction, no prejudices to be overcome on account of his color, no conviction of his inferiority in race. He was brought up with the rest of the family to which he was considered to belong and was in hourly contact with them. Moreover, the large number of slaves had been captives in war. A reverse of fortune might consign their present masters to the same lot; history knew of instances in which master and slave had changed places [pg 068] with one another. There were some slaves, too, who were Babylonians by birth; the law allowed the parent to sell his child, the brother his sister, or the creditor his debtor under certain circumstances, and the old Sumerian legislation ordained that a son who denied his father should be shorn and sold as a slave. In times of famine or necessity a man even sold himself to be quit of a debt or to obtain the means of subsistence. A slave was always fed and clothed; the free laborer at times could get neither food nor clothing.
There were three classes of slaves—those who were the property of a private individual, the serfs who were attached to the soil which they cultivated, and the temple slaves who had been dedicated to the service of the gods. Of the second class but few traces are found in Babylonia. Agriculture was carried on there either by free laborers, or by the slaves of the private land-owners. Where the land belonged to priests, it was of course usually the temple slaves who tilled it. What was the exact legal position of the Jews and other exiles who were transported to Babylonia by Nebuchadnezzar we do not know, but they were neither serfs nor slaves. The practice of transportation had been borrowed from Assyria, and under the Assyrian system the exiled population was treated as a colony. Israelites appear among the Assyrian officials in contracts of the second Assyrian empire, and Jewish names are found in the Babylonian contracts of the age of Nebuchadnezzar and his successors.
The Babylonians were not a military people, and [pg 069] after the Kassite conquest their wars of aggression were not sufficiently numerous or extensive to provide them with a supply of captives who could be made into slaves. Slave-merchants are rarely, if ever, referred to in the Babylonian contract tablets, and the slaves must have been home-born, the children and descendants of those who had been slaves before them. In the age of Abraham it was doubtless different. Then the power of Babylonia extended throughout Western Asia, and the constant wars in the East and West must have filled the market with foreign captives. The white slaves brought from Kurdistan and the north were especially prized. Thus in the reign of Ammi-Zadok, the fourth successor of Khammurabi, some “white Kurdish slaves” were sold for 3 homers and 24⅔ qas of oil, which were valued at 20⅔ shekels, and in the time of his son Samsu-ditana “a white slave” from Suri or Northern Mesopotamia fetched as much as 20 shekels, or £3.
The earliest code of Sumerian laws known to us takes the slave under its protection. It assumes the principle that the life of the slave is not absolutely at his master's disposal, and enacts that, if the slave is killed, beaten, maimed, or injured in health, the hand that has so offended shall pay each day a measure of wheat. This must mean that the payment shall be continued until the slave recovers from his ill-treatment. Light is thrown upon it by a later Babylonian law, according to which, if the services of a slave have been hired by a second person and the slave falls ill or is otherwise rendered incapable of [pg 070] work, the hirer is fined for as long a time as the illness or incapacity continues. The object of the law is clear. It was intended to prevent the slave from being overworked by one who had not, as it were, a family interest in him. It protected the slave and at the same time protected the master to whom he belonged.
There are several instances of its application. Thus in the eighth year of Cyrus a slave named Nidinti was apprenticed for six years by his master and mistress to a certain Libludh in order that he might learn the trade of fulling. It was stipulated that he was to learn it thoroughly, and if at any time he was unable to work Libludh was to pay each day 3 qas (or about 4½ quarts) of wheat for his support. At the end of the period, when the trade had been learned, Libludh was to receive a cloth worth 4 shekels (12 s.) and hand over Nidinti to the service of the Sun-god of Sippara. In the same year another slave was apprenticed to the stone-cutter Quddâ, who was himself a slave and belonged to the heir-apparent, Cambyses. Quddâ undertook to teach his trade to the apprentice in four years, and if he failed to do so was to be fined 20 shekels. Six years earlier Qubtâ, the daughter of Iddina-Merodach, had given the slave of another person to a weaver for a period of five years, in order that he might be taught the art of weaving, at the same time agreeing to provide him with 1 qa (1⅗ quarts) of food each day and to pay his teacher something besides. If, however, he was incapacitated from learning, the weaver was required to pay a daily fine of half a “measure” of [pg 071] wheat, which we are told was the wage of the slave. Any infringement of the contract would be punished by a penalty of 20 manehs.
The slave was able to apprentice himself without the intervention of his owners. Thus in the sixth year of Cyrus one slave apprenticed himself of his own accord to another in order to learn a trade. In this case also the penalty for not being taught the trade was half a “measure” of wheat each day, which is again stated to be the wage of the slave. The wage, however, it would seem, had to be paid to the master, at all events in some cases; this is clear from a document which relates to the conclusion of the apprenticeship in which Nubtâ took part. The slave she had apprenticed had learnt his trade, and his master accordingly received from the teacher 5 shekels, which it was calculated were the equivalent of the services the apprentice had rendered. Ordinarily the 5 shekels would have been considered a return for the slave's maintenance during the term of his apprenticeship; but in this instance, for reasons unknown to us, the maintenance had been provided by a lady and the payment for the slave's services was consequently clear gain.
The slave, however, was allowed to accumulate capital for himself, to trade with it, and even to become rich enough to lend money to his own master or to purchase his own freedom. That a similar privilege was allowed to the slaves of the Israelites we may gather from the fact that Saul's slave offered to pay the seer Samuel a quarter of a shekel which he had about him, though it is true that this [pg 072] might have been the property of his master. In Babylonia the possession of property by the slave was not at all uncommon. In the sixth year of Cambyses, for example, a female slave named Khunnatu received a large quantity of furniture, including five beds, ten chairs, three dishes, and various other kitchen utensils, and agreed to pay the rent of the house in which she deposited them. Her master also lent her 122 shekels of silver, which were expended in buying fifty casks of beer, besides other things, and upon which she was to pay interest. Apparently she wanted to set up an inn or drinking-shop; the fact that the money was lent to her by her master proves that she must have been engaged in business on her own account. In other contracts we find the slave taking a mortgage and trading in onions and grain or employing his money in usury. In one case a slave borrows as much as 14 manehs 49 shekels, or £138 3s., from a member of the Egibi firm. In another case it is a considerable quantity of grain in addition to 12 shekels of silver that is borrowed from the slave by two other persons, with a promise that the grain shall be repaid the following month and the money a year later. The contract is drawn up in the usual way, the borrowers, who, like the witnesses, are free-born citizens, giving the creditor a security and assuming a common responsibility for the debt. The grain, however, was to be repaid in the house of the slave's master; it seems evident, therefore, that the slave had no private house of his own. The slave, nevertheless, could own a house or [pg 073] receive it in payment of a debt. This is illustrated by an interesting contract in which reference is made to Ustanni, the Tatnai of the Book of Ezra, who is called “the governor of Ebir-nâri,” “the other side of the river.” The contract is as follows:
“Two manehs of silver lent by Kurrulâ, the slave of Ustanni, the governor of Babylon and Ebir-nâri, to Merodach-sum-ibni, the son of Sula, the son of Epes-ilu. The house of the latter, which is by the side of the road of the god Bagarus, is Kurrulâ's security. No one else has any prior claim to it. The house is not to be let or interest taken upon the loan.” Then come the names of five free-born witnesses, and the document is dated at Babylon in the third year of Darius. The terms of the contract are precisely the same as those exacted by Cambyses, when he was crown-prince, from a certain Iddin-Nebo, to whom he had lent money through the agency of his secretary, receiving a house as security for the debt.
In some instances the slave was merely the confidential agent of his master, to whom therefore all or most of the profits went. Thus a deed dated in the ninth year of Cyrus describes a field situated opposite the gate of Zamama at Babylon, which had been assigned by “the judges” to a lady named Ê-Saggil-belit, and afterward mortgaged by her to a slave of Itti-Merodach-baladhu, one of the members of the Egibi firm. The lady, however, still wanted money, and accordingly proposed to Itti-Merodach-baladhu that if he would make her a “present” of 10 shekels she would hand over to him her title-deeds. This was done, and the field passed into the possession of [pg 074] Itti-Merodach-baladhu, with whom the mortgage had really been contracted.
In spite of the privileges possessed by the Babylonian slave, he was nevertheless a chattel, like the rest of his master's property. He could constitute the dowry of a wife, could take the place of interest on a debt or of the debt itself, and could be hired out to another, the wages he earned going into the pocket of his master. In the age of Khammurabi we find two brothers hiring the services of two slaves, one of whom belonged to their father and the other to their mother, for ten days. The slaves were wanted for harvest work, and it was agreed that a gur (or 180 qas) of grain should be paid them. This, of course, ultimately went to their owners. In the reign of Cambyses a man and his wife, having borrowed 80 shekels, gave a slave as security for the repayment of the loan; the terms of the contract are the same as if the security had been a house. On another occasion a slave is security for only part of a debt which amounted to a maneh and twenty shekels, interest being paid upon the shekels. His service was regarded as equivalent to the interest upon the maneh.
When a slave was sold the seller guaranteed that he was not disobedient, that he had not been adopted by a free citizen, that there was no prior claim to him, and that he had not been impressed into the royal service, or, in the case of female slaves, been a concubine of the king. Purchasers had to be on their guard on all these points. Strict honesty was not always the rule in the Babylonian commercial world, and a case which came before the judges in the early [pg 075] part of the reign of Nabonidos shows that ladies were capable of sharp practice as well as men. The judicial record states that a certain “Belit-litu gave the following evidence before the judges of Nabonidos, King of Babylon: ‘In the month Ab, in the first year of Nergal-sharezer, King of Babylon, I sold my slave, Bazuzu, for thirty-five shekels of silver to Nebo-akhi-iddin, the son of Sulâ, the descendant of Egibi; he has pretended that I owed him a debt, and so has not paid me the money.’ The judges heard the charge, and caused Nebo-akhi-iddin to be summoned and to appear before them. Nebo-akhi-iddin produced the contract which he had made with Belit-litu; he proved that she had received the money and convinced the judges. And Ziria, Nebo-sum-lisir and Edillu gave (further) evidence before the judges that Belit-litu, their mother, had received the silver. The judges deliberated and condemned Belit-litu to (pay) fifty-five shekels (by way of fine), the highest fine that could be inflicted on her, and then gave it to Nebo-akhi-iddin.”
The prices fetched by slaves varied naturally. We have seen that in the Abrahamic age 20 shekels (£3) were given for a white slave from the North, the same price as that for which Joseph was sold. In the reign of Ammi-zadok 4½ shekels only were paid for a female slave. In later times prices were considerably higher, though under Nebuchadnezzar we hear of a slave given as part of a dowry who was valued at 30 shekels, and of a female slave and her infant child whose cost was only 19 shekels. In the first year of Nergal-sharezer a slave-merchant of [pg 076] Harran sold three slaves for 45 shekels, while a little later 32 shekels were given for a female slave. The same sum was given for a slave who was advanced in years, while a slave girl four years of age only was sold for 19 shekels. In the sixth year of Cambyses an Egyptian and her child three months old, whom the Babylonian Iddin-Nebo had “taken, with his bow,” was sold by him for 2 manehs or 120 shekels, a bond for 240 gurs of dates being handed over to him as security for the payment of the sum. The Egyptian, it may be noted, received a Babylonian name before being put up for auction. In the same reign we hear of 3 manehs being paid for two slaves, of a maneh for a single slave, and of 7 manehs 56 shekels for three female slaves. This would be at the rate of 2 manehs 38 shekels or £23 14s. for each. On the whole, however, the average price seems to have been about 30 shekels. This, at any rate, was the case among the Israelites, not only in the Mosaic period (Exod. xxi. 32) but also in the time of the Maccabees (II. Macc. viii. 9, 10).
The fact that slaves sometimes ran away from their masters, like Barachiel, who pretended to be a free citizen, and that in contracts for their sale their obedience is expressly guaranteed, proves that they were not always content with their lot. Indeed, it is not strange that it should have been so. They were merely chattels, subject to the caprices and tyranny of those who owned them, and their lives were as little valued as that of an ox. Thus in the fortieth year of Nebuchadnezzar a judgment was delivered that, if it could be proved by witnesses that a certain [pg 077] Idikhi-ilu had murdered the slave of one of the Arameans settled in the town of Pekod, he was to be fined a maneh of silver; that was all the slave's life was worth in the eyes of the law, and even that was paid to the master to compensate him for the loss of his property. Sometimes the name of the slave was changed; as we have seen, the captive Egyptian woman received a Babylonian name, and a contract of the time of Khammurabi, relating to the female slave of a Babylonian lady, who had been given to her by her husband, and who, it is stipulated, shall not be taken from her by his sons after his death, mentions that the name of the slave had been changed. In this case, however, the reason seems to have been that the girl was adopted by her mistress, though the adoption was not carried out in legal form and was therefore technically invalid. The contract accordingly describes her by her proper name of Mutibasti, but adds that “she is called Zabini, the daughter of Saddasu,” her mistress.
That the law should nevertheless have regarded the slave as a person, and as such possessed of definite rights, appears strange. But Babylonian law started from the principle of individual responsibility and individual possession of property, and since the slave was a human being and could, moreover, hold property of his own, it necessarily seemed to place him more and more on a footing of equality with the free-born citizen. The causes which brought about the legal emancipation of women worked in the same direction in favor of the slave. Hence the power he had of purchasing his freedom out of his own earnings and [pg 078] of being adopted into a citizen's family. Hence, too, the claim of the law to interfere between the slave-owner and his property.
A slave, in fact, could even act as a witness in court, his testimony being put on the same legal level as that of a native Babylonian. He could also be a party to a suit. Thus we find a slave called Nergal-ritsua, in the tenth year of Nabonidos, bringing a suit for the recovery of stolen property. He had been intrusted by his master with the conveyance of 480 gur of fruit to the ships of a Syrian, named Baal-nathan, who undertook to carry it to Babylon, and to be responsible for loss. On the way part of the fruit was stolen, and Baal-nathan, instead of replacing it, absconded, but was soon caught. The slave accordingly appeared against him, and the five judges before whom the case was brought gave a verdict in his favor.
A slave could even own another slave. In the twenty-seventh year of Nebuchadnezzar, for example, the porter of the temple of the Sun-god at Sippara, who was “the slave of Nebo-baladh-yulid,” purchased a female slave for two-thirds of a shekel (2s.). The amount was small, but the purchaser did not possess so much at the moment, and credit was consequently allowed him. The list of witnesses to the contract is headed by a slave.
The condition of the slave in Assyria was much what it was in Babylonia. The laws and customs of Assyria were modelled after those of Babylonia, whence, indeed, most of them had been derived. But there was one cause of difference between the two [pg 079] countries which affected the character of slavery. Assyria was a military power, and the greater part of its slaves, therefore, were captives taken in war. In Babylonia, on the contrary, the majority had been born in the country, and between them and their masters there was thus a bond of union and sympathy which could not exist between the foreign captive and his conqueror. In the northern kingdom slavery must have been harsher.
Slaves, moreover, apparently fetched higher prices there, probably on account of their foreign origin. They cost on the average as much as a maneh (£9) each. A contract, dated in 645 B.C., states that one maneh and a half was given for a single female slave. One of the contracting parties was a Syrian, and an Aramaic docket is accordingly attached to the deed, while among the witnesses to it we find Ammâ, “the Aramean secretary.” Ammâ means a native of the land of Ammo, where Pethor was situated. About the same time 3 manehs, “according to the standard of Carchemis,” were paid for a family of five slaves, which included two children. Under Esar-haddon a slave was bought for five-sixths of a maneh, or 50 shekels, and in the same year Hoshea, an Israelite, with his two wives and four children, was sold for 3 manehs. With these prices it is instructive to compare the sum of 43 shekels given for a female slave in Babylonia only four years later.
As a specimen of an Assyrian contract for the sale of slaves we may take one which was made in 709 B.C., thirteen years after the fall of Samaria, and which is noticeable on account of the Israelitish [pg 080] names which it contains: “The seal of Dagon-melech,” we read, “the owner of the slaves who are sold. Imannu, the woman U——, and Melchior, in all three persons, have been approved by Summa-ilâni, the bear-hunter from Kasarin, and he has bought them from Dagon-melech for three manehs of silver, according to the standard of Carchemish. The money has been fully paid; the slaves have been marked and taken. There shall be no reclamation, lawsuit, or complaints. Whoever hereafter shall at any time rise up and bring an action, whether it be Dagon-melech or his brother or his nephew or any one else belonging to him or a person in authority, and shall bring an action and charges against Summa-ilâni, his son, or his grandson, shall pay 10 manehs of silver, or 1 maneh of gold (£140), to the goddess Istar of Arbela. The money brings an interest of 10 (i.e., 60) per cent. to its possessors; but if an action or complaint is brought it shall not be touched by the seller. In the presence of Addâ the secretary, Akhiramu the secretary, Pekah the governor of the city, Nadab-Yahu (Nadabiah) the bear-hunter, Bel-kullim-anni, Ben-dikiri, Dhem-Istar, and Tabnî the secretary, who has drawn up the deed of contract.” The date is the 20th of Ab, or August, 709 B.C.
The slaves are sold at a maneh each, and bear Syrian names. Addâ, “the man of Hadad,” and Ben-dikiri are also Syrian; on the other hand, Ahiram, Pekah, and Nadabiah are Israelitish. It is interesting to find them appearing as free citizens of Assyria, one of them being even governor of a city. It serves [pg 081] to show why the tribes of Northern Israel so readily mingled with the populations among whom they were transported; the exiles in Assyria were less harshly treated than those in Babylonia, and they had no memories of a temple and its services, no strong religious feeling, to prevent them from being absorbed by the older inhabitants of their new homes.
In Assyria, as in Babylonia, parents could sell their children, brothers their sisters, though we do not know under what circumstances this was allowed by the law. The sale of a sister by her brother for half a maneh, which has already been referred to, took place at Nineveh in 668 B.C. In the contract the brother is called “the owner of his sister,” and any infringement of the agreement was to be punished by a fine of “10 silver manehs, or 1 maneh of gold,” to the treasury of the temple of Ninip at Calah. About fifteen years later the services of a female slave “as long as she lived” were given in payment of a debt, one of the witnesses to the deed being Yavanni “the Greek.” Ninip of Calah received slaves as well as fines for the violation of contracts relating to the sale of them; about 645 B.C., for instance, we find four men giving one to the service of the god. Among the titles of the god is that of “the lord of workmen;” and it is therefore possible that he was regarded as in a special way the patron of the slave-trader.
It seems to have been illegal to sell the mother without the children, at all events as long as they were young. In the old Sumerian code of laws it was already laid down that if children were born to [pg 082] slaves whom their owner had sold while still reserving the power of repurchasing them, he could nevertheless not buy them back unless he bought the children at the same time at the rate of one and a half shekels each. The contracts show that this law continued in force down to the latest days of Babylonian independence. Thus the Egyptian woman who was sold in the sixth year of Cambyses was put up to auction along with her child. We may gather also that it was not customary to separate the husband and wife.5 When the Israelite Hoshea, for instance, was put up for sale in Assyria in the reign of Esar-haddon, both his wives as well as his children were bought by the purchaser along with him. It may be noted that the slave was “marked,” or “tattooed,” after purchase, like the Babylonian cattle. This served a double purpose; it indicated his owner and identified him if he tried to run away.
In a country where slaves were so numerous the wages of the free workmen were necessarily low. There were, however, two classes of free workmen, the skilled artisan and the agricultural laborer. The agricultural character of the Babylonian state, and the fact that so many of the peasantry possessed land of their own, prevented the agriculturist from sinking into that condition of serfdom and degradation which the existence of slavery would otherwise have brought about. Moreover, the flocks and cattle were tended by Bedâwin and Arameans, who were proud [pg 083] of their freedom and independence, like the Bedâwin of modern Egypt. In spite, therefore, of the fact that so much of the labor of the country was performed by slaves, agriculture was in high esteem and the free agriculturist was held in honor. Tradition told how Sargon of Akkad, the hero of ancient Babylonia, had been brought up by Akki the irrigator, and had himself been a gardener, while the god Tammuz, the bridegroom of Istar, had tended sheep. Indeed, one of the oldest titles of the Babylonian kings had been that of “shepherd.”
At the same time there was a tendency for the free laborer to degenerate into a serf, attached to the soil of the farm on which he and his forefathers had been settled for centuries. A contract dated in the first year of Cyrus is an illustration of the fact. It records the lease of a farm near Sippara, which belonged to the temple of the Sun-god, and was let to a private individual by the chief priest and the civil governor of the temple. The farm contained 60 gur of arable land, and the lease of it included “12 oxen, 8 peasants, 3 iron plough-shares, 4 axes, and sufficient grain for sowing and for the support of the peasants and the cattle.” Here the peasants are let along with the land, and presumably would have been sold with it had the farm been purchased instead of being let. They were, in fact, irremovable from the soil on which they had been born. It must, however, be remembered that the farm was the property of a temple, and it is possible that serfdom was confined to land which had been consecrated to the gods. In that case the Babylonian serfs would have corresponded [pg 084] with the Hebrew Nethinim, and might have been originally prisoners of war.
We learn some details of early agricultural life in Babylonia from the fragments of an old Sumerian work on farming which formed one of the text-books in the Babylonian schools. Passages were extracted from it and translated into Semitic for the use of the students, and difficult words and expressions were noted and explained. The book seems to have resembled the “Works and Days” of the Greek poet Hesiod, except that it was not in verse. We gather from it that the agricultural year began, not with Nisan, or March, but with Tisri, or September, like the Jewish civil year; at all events, it was then that the tenure of the farmer began and that his contract was drawn up with the landlord. It was then, too, after the harvest, that he took possession of the land, paying his tax to the government, repairing or making the fences, and ploughing the soil.
His tenure was of various kinds. Sometimes he undertook to farm the land, paying half the produce of it to the landlord or his agent and providing the farming implements, the seeds, and the manure himself. Sometimes the farm was worked on a co-operative system, the owner of the land and the tenant-farmer entering into partnership with one another and dividing everything into equal shares. In this case the landlord was required to furnish carts, oxen, and seeds. At other times the tenant received only a percentage of the profits—a third, a fourth, a fifth, or a tenth, according to agreement. He had also to pay the esrâ or tithe.
[pg 085]The most common form of tenure seems to have been that in which a third of the produce went to the lessor. Two-thirds of the rent, paid either in dates or in their monetary equivalent, was delivered to the landlord on the last day of the eighth month, Marchesvan, where the dates had been gathered and had been laid out to dry. By the terms of the lease the tenant was called upon to keep the farm buildings in order, and even to erect them if they did not exist. His own house was separate from that in which the farm-servants lived, and it was surrounded by a garden, planted for the most part with date-palms. If the farm-buildings were not built or were not kept in proper repair a fine was imposed upon him, which in the case quoted by the writer of the agricultural work was 10 shekels, or 30s. The tenant was furthermore expected to pay the laborers their wages, and the landlord had the power of dismissing him if the terms of the contract were not fulfilled.
The laborers were partly slaves, partly freemen, the freemen hiring themselves out at so much a month. A contract of the age of Khammurabi, for instance, states that a certain Ubaru, had thus hired himself out for thirty days for half a shekel of silver, or 1s. 6d., but he had to offer a guarantee that he would not leave his master's service before the expiration of the month. In other cases it was a slave whose services were hired from his owner; thus, in a document from Sippara, of the same age as the preceding, we read: “Rimmon-bani hires Sumi-izitim as a laborer for his brother, for three months, at a wage of one shekel and a half, 3 measures of grain and 1½ qa of oil. There [pg 086] shall be no withdrawal from the agreement. Ibni-A-murru and Sikni-Ea have confirmed it. Rimmon-bani hires the laborer in the presence of Abum-ilu (Abimael), the son of Ibni-Samas, Ilisu-ibni, the son of Igas-Rimmon, and Arad-Bel, the son of Akhuwam. (Dated) the first day of Sivan.” The wages evidently went to the slave, so that he was practically in the position of a free laborer.
When we come down to a later period, we find in contract, dated at the end of the second year of a Cyrus, Bunene-sar-uzur, “the son of Sum-yukin,” hired, as a servant for a year, “from the month Nisan to the month Adar,” for 3 shekels of silver. These were paid beforehand to a third person, and the payment was duly witnessed and registered. Bunene-sar-uzur was not a slave, though 9 shillings does not seem much as wages for a whole year. However, three years later only 1 pi, or about 50 quarts of meal, were given for a month's supply of food to some men who were digging a canal. The hours of work doubtless lasted from sunrise to sunset, though we have a curious document of the Macedonian period, dated in the reign of Seleucus II., in which certain persons sell the wages they receive for work done in a temple during the “sixth part” of a day. The sum demanded was as much as 65 shekels.
The Aramean Bedâwin, who acted as shepherds, or cattle-drovers, probably received better wages than the native Babylonians. They were less numerous and were in more request; moreover, it was necessary that they should be trustworthy. The herds and flocks were left in their charge for weeks together, on [pg 087] the west bank of the Euphrates, out of sight of the cultivated fields of Babylonia and exposed to the attacks of marauders from the desert. Early Babylonian documents give long lists of the herdsmen and shepherds, and of the number of sheep or oxen for which they were responsible, and which were the property of some wealthy landowner. In the seventeenth year of Nabonidos, five of the shepherds received one shekel and a half of silver, as well as a gur, or about 250 quarts, of grain from the royal granary.
Some of the songs have been preserved to us with which the Babylonian laborer beguiled his work in the fields. They probably formed part of the treatise on agriculture which has already been described; at any rate, we owe their preservation to the educational text-books, in which they have been embodied, along with Semitic translations of the original Sumerian text. Here is one which the peasants sang to the oxen as they returned from the field:
In a similar strain the ploughman encouraged his team with the words:
Or again, the oxen, while threshing, would be addressed with the refrain:
Ploughing, harrowing, sowing, reaping, and threshing constituted the chief events of the agricultural year. The winters were not cold, and the Babylonian peasant was consequently not obliged to spend a part of the year indoors shivering over a fire. In fact fuel was scarce in the country; few trees were grown in it except the palm, and the fruit of the palm was too valuable to allow it to be cut down. When the ordinary occupations of the farmer had come to an end, he was expected to look after his farm buildings and fences, to build walls and clean out the ditches.
The ditches, indeed, were more important in Babylonia than in most other parts of the world. Irrigation was as necessary as in Egypt, though for a different reason. The Chaldean plain had originally been a marsh, and it required constant supervision to prevent it from being once more inundated by the waters and made uninhabitable. The embankments which hindered the overflow of the Euphrates and Tigris and kept them within carefully regulated channels, the canals which carried off the surplus water and distributed it over the country, needed continual attention. Each year, after the rains of the winter, the banks had to be strengthened or re-made and the beds of the canals cleared [pg 089] out. The irrigator, moreover, was perpetually at work; the rainy season did not last long, and during the rest of the year the land was dependent on the water supplied by the rivers and canals. Irrigation, therefore, formed a large and important part of the farmers' work, and the bucket of the irrigator must have been constantly swinging. Without the irrigator the labors of the farmer would have been of little avail.