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It is generally agreed that the monarchical constitution of early Rome rested on a limited sovereignty of the people, a power restricted by the extraordinary authority of their sole magistrate. This popular sovereignty was asserted in jurisdiction, in legislation, and in the ratification of magisterial power. The attribution of the right of appeal in criminal cases (provocatio)[153] to the people shows that with them rests either the sovereign attribute of pardon or some right of trying criminal cases in the last resort. Tradition makes the Roman people the sole source of law,[154] that is, of standing ordinances of a general kind which are to bind the community,[155] although the initiative in legislation can come only from the king; and apart from the rulings of the pontifical college, which did not require the sanction of the people, this theory of primitive legislation seems to be correct; for the very early laws passed by the comitia on the downfall of the monarchy do not appear to mark any violent break in the theory of the constitution. We do not know whether the king employed the formula afterwards used by the Republican magistrates, which elicited the “will and command” of the burgesses (velitis, jubeatis, quirites); but law (lex) is from the first something “laid down” by a competent authority, and binding, therefore, in virtue of the power that ordains it.[156] After its ordinance it may or must create a contractual relation between individuals,[157] but there is no hint of its being the result of a contract or co-operation between independent authorities. The source of law is, therefore, simple; it is the people’s will; but, through the bar to utterance created by the magistracy, this will is very limited in its capacity for expression. The people are also affirmed to have been in a certain sense the source of honour, and typical illustrations of this power are presented by the traditional beliefs that the regal insignia of Etruria, adopted by the kings of Rome, were only assumed by them with the consent of Senate and people,[158] and that the appointment of officers for special purposes, although these may have been in theory merely delegates of the king, had to be ratified by laws of the curiae. The quaestors, the earliest prototypes of the later magistrates at Rome, are said to have been so appointed.[159]

The people, therefore, possessed certain sovereign rights, but each right was limited by the vast authority of their personal representative, who wielded the whole of the executive, and so much of the legislative power as is implied in the sole right of initiative. We cannot even speak of the people as vesting this power in their king; for their right of election was, as we shall see, probably as limited as their power of legislation.

This personal head possessed a variety of titles which marked the various aspects of his rule—titles which survived into the Republic, and, on the differentiation of the functions which he united, were applied to various magistrates. As supreme judge he was judex, as leader and commander in war praetor,[160] dictator, and magister populi.[161] The most general title which marked him out as universal head of the state, in religious as in civil matters, was that of rex, the “regulator” of all things human and divine—a title which survived in the rex sacrorum, the heir of the king in sacrifice and in ritual. The powers on which this position was based were summed up in the word imperium.[162]

The severance of the king from the state, over which he ruled, was also expressed in certain outward signs (insignia), which distinguished him from the rest of the burgesses. He was preceded by twelve “summoners” (lictores),[163] each carrying a bundle of rods (fasces), and the axe-head gleamed from these bundles even within the walls, for the king’s military jurisdiction could be exercised within the city. His robe was of “purple,” or rather of scarlet—the colour in which most nations have seen an emblem of sovereignty—but his dress probably varied with the ritual which he was performing, and the three kinds of striped garment (trabea) which survived in the Republic—that of purple for the priestly office, of purple and saffron for augury, of purple striped with white for the rex[164]—were probably all vestments of the king. Tradition also assigns him the eagle-headed sceptre, the golden crown, the throne (solium),[165] and the chariot within the walls, from which the curule chair (sella curulis) was believed to be derived.[166] The statement that the triumphal insignia of the Roman magistrate were but the revival of the ordinary adornments of the king[167] is extremely probable; for the crown, the toga picta (a development of the purple robe),[168] and the chariot reappear in the Roman triumph.

Other royal prerogatives were connected with the primitive conception of a patriarchal monarchy. The king, although he lacks the absolutism of the paterfamilias, occupies much the same position in the state as the father does in the family. In a sense he is owner of the whole community, and as such capable of commanding the munera of the burgesses.[169] But a large portion of the public domain was more peculiarly set apart for his own private use.[170] This crown-land must have been worked mainly by the king’s own clients, who held it precario from him;[171] for there seems no reason to doubt the belief that a large proportion of the half-free Plebeians were in the immediate clientela of the king, connected with the community chiefly through him, its representative. These may have been captives who had submitted to the fides of the state, and whom their conqueror had not attached as dependants to other leading families of the community.

The theory of a kingship is best expressed in the mode in which the monarch ascends the throne. The alternative principles that have usually been recognised are the hereditary, the elective, or that of divine right.

Of the hereditary principle there is no trace at Rome. It is contradicted by the facts of the traditional history, which believed that, when the hereditary principle was first realised in the last king, the monarchy came to an end; and it is expressly denied by later authors who reflected on the character of the early monarchy.[172] There is rather more to be said for the theory of divine right. Romulus is the son of a god and awaits the verdict of heaven before he assumes his rule. Numa, his successor, insists that the same verdict shall be appealed to.[173] But, if the taking of the auspices be the sign of a divine origin, then everything in Rome proceeds almost equally from the gods. Probably in earlier as in later Rome religion played a most important subsidiary part in public life, but we have no warrant for believing that it was ever the sole guiding power. As we shall see, in discussing the question of the inauguration of the king, this theory raises into a primary and material what was merely a secondary and formal element in the transmission of the monarchy, although this formal element was one of the utmost necessity and importance.

The Roman thinkers were thus thrown back on the theory of election. Tradition is unanimous in representing the monarchy as elective—depending, i.e., on free popular election, or on such election guided by the Senate.[174] On the death of a king there is no immediate successor with a title to rule; an interim-king (interrex) is appointed for a few days, and on his proposal a king is elected by the patrician burgesses at the comitia curiata, subject to the sanction of the patrician Senate (auctoritas patrum).[175]

In the expression of these views the Roman thinkers were attempting to reconstruct the monarchy from a knowledge of their own magistracy; for they rightly believed that this magistracy was a very slight modification of the original kingship. The elective principle of the Republic was not regarded as a novelty in the theory of the magistracy, and there were two reasons for this view. The first was that there was a real continuity, for the elective process was always subsidiary to another, that of nomination by the magistrate who guided the elections. The latter became an almost formal process in the Republic, but the question was not asked whether at one time it may not have been the material element. Secondly, there was really an elective element in the monarchy, which survived as a form into the Republic, a form which the hypothesis of monarchical election adopted by Roman antiquarians could not explain. It is strange that, in seeking for their theory of regal appointment, they should not have appealed to the clearest survival of the monarchy, the dictatorship, on which so much of the rest of their reconstruction of the monarchical power was based.

In the two definite survivals of the Roman monarchy election was not recognised; the dictator was nominated by the consul, not by his predecessor, for it was only an occasional office; and the rex sacrorum was nominated by the pontifex maximus,[176] no longer by the preceding rex; for this office simply continued the priestly functions of the king, the religious headship being vested in the pontifex. This oldest principle of appointment survived in Republican Rome as an integral part of the elective process, to reappear again in the Principate, in cases where election had become a mere form, as the living principle.[177] It is, in fact, the one principle that has a continuous history; election is the Republican interlude.

If, therefore, we are led to consider the monarchy as not purely an elective office, and substitute for election the principle of nomination, we must consider that it was the right, and probably the duty, of the king of Rome to nominate his successor. If there had been no due nomination during his lifetime, and consequently no distinctly marked out successor to the monarchy, the duty of providing such a successor lapsed to the Senate, from which body the interrex was appointed. The interregnum is said by tradition to have dated from the first vacancy in the regal office, after the death of Romulus.[178] When such a vacancy had occurred, the auspices, under which the state had been founded, and which were the mark of divine acceptance of the kingly rule, “returned to the patres,”[179] and we are told that this was from the first interpreted to mean, not to the comitia curiata, but to the patrician Senate. The earliest interregnum is represented as an exercise of collective rule by the Senate; but, on the analogy of the sole magistracy, it took the form of a creation of a succession of interreges. The first step was the division of the Senate into decuriae;[180] each decury had fifty days of government allotted to it; within this period each individual member of the decuria exercised rule for five days, and, according to one account, the succession of the decuries was determined by lot (sortitio).[181] The rule is represented as collegiate, the whole decury possessing the imperium, while the individual who ruled for five days had the fasces and the external emblems of the royal power.[182] In later times we shall see that, though the interregnum was retained, the whole procedure was simplified by the abandonment of the collegiate principle. If it ever existed, we must suppose that, as soon as ever the resolution of the Senate was taken, the collective rule could be interrupted by any interrex, except the first, nominating the king.[183] The interregnum, although represented by our authorities as an invariable part of the procedure in the appointment of a king, was probably from the first a makeshift, only resorted to when the ordinary procedure had been interrupted through unforeseen causes, and there was no definitely designated successor.[184]

Yet, though the monarchy was not strictly elective, certain quasi-elective processes were connected by tradition with the appointment of the king, on the part both of Senate and people.

The authority of the Senate (auctoritas patrum) is mentioned in connexion with all the transmissions of the supreme office.[185] It is an authority, however, which did not spring from any theory of the Senate’s possessing elective powers, but was simply a result of the universal principle that no man in authority should act without taking advice of his consilium, and was merely an outcome of the constitutional necessity which the king was under of consulting the Senate on all great measures affecting the popular welfare. The greatest of these would be the appointment of a successor.

Secondly, we are told of a formal ratification of the king’s power by the people assembled in the comitia curiata, one which continued into the Republic under the title of the lex curiata, a formal sanction always required for the ratification of an imperium already assumed.[186] It is said to have had this character even in the time of the monarchy, and this was thought to be shown by the fact that the king himself proposed the lex curiata which was to give the sanction for the exercise of his own power.[187] Such procedure was, indeed, necessary, since no one but the king had the right of putting the question to the people; consequently we must accept the view that the lex curiata was not absolutely necessary for the exercise of power, and might be legally, though not perhaps constitutionally, withheld, as it was by King Servius during the early part of his reign.[188]

The Roman jurists, who believed that the king was elected, credited the people with two distinct acts in the creation of a king—first, his election, and then the formal ratification of this election.[189] A parallel for this seemed to be furnished by Republican usage, where the lex was taken by magistrates already elected as a necessary preliminary to the exercise of the imperium. But at this period the magistrates were not elected by the comitia curiata, and the lex of this assembly is a mere survival, a reminiscence of the formal sovereignty which continued to be vested in the curiae. The lex curiata is much more comprehensible in origin if the king was first nominated independently of the people and then challenged their allegiance. It was probably little more than an acclamation on the first summons of the curiae by the king. The preceding king must have already made known to the people his choice of a successor, and the popular sentiment would have been already expressed; thus there was little chance of adverse shouts when the new king challenged the allegiance of his burgesses. If there was a chance of the challenge not being accepted, it might, as we saw, be withheld. But an exercise of the regal imperium which was not sanctioned by these two acts of Senate and people—the expressed will of the one and the declared allegiance of the other—was regarded by later authorities as unconstitutional.[190]

There was also a religious aspect of the king’s appointment. His assumption of power was regarded as incomplete until it had been shown that the gods sanctioned the rule which he had assumed. This was done by the first taking of the auspices[191]—a ceremony observed by magistrates of the Republic before entering on the exercise of their office. This was the final test for the right to exercise secular power; but the king’s position as high-priest of the community was supposed to require another initiatory act.

This was the inauguration, which differed from the taking of the auspices. In the ordinary form of the auspicia the individual entering on office has himself the right of spectio;[192] in the Republic it belonged to magistrates as such, and was never regarded as a merely priestly function. In the special inauguration, on the contrary, the spectio is taken by some other than the person inaugurated. The priest-king Numa is naturally associated with this ceremony by tradition; by him an appointed augur is employed to watch for signs,[193] and this ceremony of inauguration by one of the priesthood, other than the person so inaugurated, is represented as being from this time onwards a standing part of the procedure requisite for entrance on the regal office. But this legend of Numa is rendered somewhat incredible by the fact that the augurs have no right of spectio, and that of all the priests of the Republic it is only the semi-magisterial pontifex maximus, the head of the state religion, who has the right of taking auspices. The fact that the rex sacrorum in the Republic had a special inauguration[194] might lend support to the legend, were it not that this rex had become wholly a priest and thus lost his right of intercourse with the gods through the spectio. The question of the inauguration of the king, unimportant in itself, runs up into two wider questions; the first is whether there was a separation in idea between the king’s magisterial and his priestly functions; the second, whether the king was himself pontifex maximus and thus the supreme head of the Roman religion.

For an answer to the first question it is not safe to appeal to later examples, for the priesthood and the magistracy may have been first sundered during the Republic. But tradition[195] and survivals represent the king as the first priest in the community. His successor, the rex sacrorum, ranks, as a priest, above the three great flamines and the pontifex maximus in the order of the priesthood (ordo sacerdotum);[196] the religious duties of this rex point to the fact that the king’s functions were a regular cultus, not the occasional religious duties of a Roman magistrate,[197] while his wife, the regina sacrorum, had her own simultaneous sacrifices.[198]

But the position of first priest did not in the Republic imply the headship of the Roman religion; the chief pontiff, who is its head, comes, as we saw, low in the order of the priesthood. The importance of cultus and of religious authority springing from higher knowledge are not the same. The pontiffs are only secondarily a priestly, primarily they are a religious order, whose position is based on the knowledge of religious law (fas). The separation between the true priesthood and the presidency of religion may, indeed, have been a Republican development, due to the secularisation of the magistracy; the priestly functions of the magistrate being continued in the rex sacrorum, and the religious presidency being also separated from the civil power, but vested in another official, the chief pontiff. But it is possible that the separation may have been primitive, and that cultus and the knowledge of religious law did not go together. It is evident that great uncertainty prevailed as to the king’s relation to the pontifical college. While one account speaks of Numa selecting Numa Marcius as “the pontiff,”[199] another describes the same king as instituting five pontiffs,[200] and we are further told that, before the lex Ogulnia (300 B.C.), the college consisted of four members.[201] The discrepancy between the two last accounts has been reconciled by supposing that the king himself was reckoned as a member of the college, and that the expulsion of the king reduced the number from five to four.[202] It is possible that the king did not bear the title pontifex maximus and was yet head of the college; it is even possible that, as one account which we have quoted seems to indicate,[203] there was a chief pontiff as his delegate. We can hardly refuse him a place at this board in face of the evidences which point to his universal headship of religion. The creation of the augurate and the priesthoods is his work. Romulus appoints the augurs;[204] Numa institutes the three great Flamines, the Salii, and the Pontifex, although most of the important ceremonies of religion are performed by himself personally.[205] Consequently we may conclude that the appointment of special individuals to these priesthoods must have been a part of the king’s office.[206] It has even been held (chiefly as an inference from the fact that the Vestals and Flamens were in the potestas of the pontifex maximus of the Republic) that the former were the king’s unmarried daughters who attended to the sacred fire of the state in the king’s house, the latter his sons whose duty it was to kindle the fire for the sacrificial worship of particular deities, Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus. This pleasing picture may have represented the primitive state of the patriarchal kingship; but this had been long outgrown before the close of the monarchy. There we find a fully developed hierarchy and the existence of religious guilds, such as those of pontiffs and augurs, who cultivate the science, not the mere ritual of religion, and who have no possible connexion with the king’s household arrangements.

At the head of this imposing organisation stands the rex, and, in virtue of this position, he is the chief expounder of the rules of divine law (fas). It is a law which has hardly any limits, running parallel with civil justice (jus) but far beyond its bounds. Three methods of its operation may conveniently be distinguished. One is purely religious and ritualistic and is expressed in the control of priesthoods, religious colleges, and cults. The second asserts itself in a control over the life of the ordinary citizen in matters criminal and civil. The third is that which connects the Roman state with other independent communities and forms the international law of the period.

(i.) The control over priesthood and cultus belongs to the history of religion rather than to that of constitutional law, and it chiefly presents a legal aspect in connexion with the question of religious jurisdiction. The difficult questions that arose in Republican times from the clashing of the religious and the civil power could hardly have been heard of as yet, for the supreme control of both was vested in the same man. But the very nature of this disciplinary jurisdiction over priests has been a matter of some dispute. The favourite hypothesis of a family jurisdiction has been applied to the case, and the hypothesis may conceivably be correct so far as the Flamens and the Vestals are concerned, although even in this sphere it is doubtful by what paternal right the head of religion could do the Vestal’s paramour to death. Other phases of the power are still more inexplicable on this ground. A right of punishing augurs for a breach of ritualistic rules survived into the Republic, and seems to be a jurisdiction exercised over them as members of a religious body. There is, however, no trace of the priesthood holding a privileged position, and in all secular matters its members are subject to the ordinary law. Such privileges as they possess rest on religious scruples. When the Flamen was caught (captus) for the god, he became free from the paternal power,[207] and the civil authority could not compel him to take an oath.[208] The persons of the Vestals were inviolable;[209] the sanctity of both Flamens and Vestals also invested them with the right of asylum. The bonds were struck off the prisoner who took refuge in the Flamen’s house; and, if the criminal on the way to punishment met him or the Vestal, he could not be scourged or executed on that day. But it is only in these two cases that the severance from the world is strongly marked; we have no reason for believing that, in the earliest period of Rome’s history, the members of the religious orders were isolated from the mass of the people with privileges and a jurisdiction all their own.

The control of the cultus, and the maintenance of its purity, are marked as one of the earliest duties of the pontifex maximus, and must have belonged to the king. It is he that sees that no ancestral right is neglected, no foreign one acquired.[210] Here we have a religious power that governs more than the priesthood; the maintenance of the sacra privata are as important in its eyes as that of the sacra publica, and its supervision must have extended beyond the limits of the Patriciate; for it is impossible to believe that religion cared only for the sacra of the patrician clans, and aimed only at preventing them from corrupting their ancestral worship. The Plebeian and the client were under the protection of the gods, and might bring down a curse on the community by reckless innovation or neglect.

(ii.) The control exercised by fas over the citizens’ life in matters not immediately connected with ritual and worship may be first illustrated by its penal sanctions. We cannot, indeed, say that there was a time when the Roman law regarded every crime as a sin, for from the very first we are confronted with a dualism, and religious and secular sanctions exist side by side. But religion has left a deeper impress here than elsewhere—in the name given to punishment,[211] in the form of its infliction, in the still stranger fact that, by the disappearance of religious sanctions, breaches of obligation that the modern world regards as crimes remained unpunished by the secular arm.

The punishment for sin must be some form of expiation. This is the piaculum adjudged in the monarchy as in Republican times by the head of religion; and not adjudged arbitrarily, for even by the close of the monarchical period classes of offences had doubtless been drawn up by the pontiffs with the equivalent expiation, which was directed to avert the anger of the gods from the whole community. Apart from the regularly recurring lustrations at the census—the consequence of the sense of universal sinfulness in the community—individual misdeeds could be expiated in this way. Such was a murder that was unintentional or in which mitigating circumstances were present,[212] and such was the violation of the chastity of Juno’s person through the touching of her altar by a paelex.[213] In graver cases expiation could only be accepted where there was no intent,[214] as in the wrong done to a god by swearing falsely in his name.[215] There was also a class of deadly sins for which the gods would accept no atonement but the life and the goods of the sinner himself. Amongst the acts which called forth this consecratio capitis were the violation of the relations of client and patron,[216] the ill-treatment of elders by their children,[217] the pulling up or alteration of boundary stones,[218] the destruction of a neighbour’s corn by night.[219] The god thus appeased was often the deity who was held to be specially offended by the act; but sometimes the head and the goods were not dedicated to the same divinities. The person was adjudged to Jupiter, the dispenser of life; the landed property to the gods who nourish the human race, Ceres and Liber.[220] This custom of consecration gradually ceased to have its literal fulfilment. A man might still be declared sacer, but excommunication had taken the place of immolation. Such a man was cut off from all divine and, therefore, from all human help, and his slayer was blood-guiltless.[221] This theory, of a man being cut off from the community while his life was spared, became of great importance in the history of Roman criminal law. It survived in the “interdiction of fire and water” (aquae et ignis interdictio), and familiarised the Romans with the idea that the severest penalty did not require the sacrifice of life.

In matters of private law we have already witnessed the presence of religion in marriage, adoption, testament, and the transmission of the sacra. Its authority may be further illustrated by the formularies of civil procedure. Here the form of words was all-important, and in the early Republic all binding formulae, whether for oaths that were to be effectual, for vows or for consecration, were known only to the pontiffs. The solemn forms of law (legis actiones) issued from the same authority, and in one of their most frequent manifestations, the sacramentum, the procedure was distinctly religious.[222] But who could say whether the king, when he gave the prescribed form of words for an action, acted as a religious or a civil head, as the representative of fas or jus? Here we are on the borderland between the two.

(iii.) Nations know no common jus, and fas is the sole support of international law. Each people is protected by its own divine guardians; hence a war of two nations is a contest between their gods, and a treaty between two peoples a compact between their respective divinities. But each nation is to some extent under the protection of the other’s gods. Jupiter of Rome is powerless if the war commenced by Rome is unjust, and will punish his own people if they have stained his honour by violating a treaty. Even though there is no belief in community of guardianship, the rights of other peoples are still conceived to be under the protection of the Roman gods.

These beliefs necessitated elaborate religious preliminaries to the declaration of a war in order that it might be just and holy (justum piumque),[223] as well as ceremonies for the conclusion of a peace that was to bind the public conscience (fides publica).[224] Such a ritual may have been performed, originally, by the king himself; but tradition states that, at a very early period, a special guild of priests, the Fetiales or public orators, were appointed for this purpose.[225] Their chief functions were the declaration of war and the conclusion of peace, but the ritual observed in both of these acts may be more appropriately described when we are dealing with the international relations of Rome. There were other religious preliminaries to a war which, though not necessitated by divine law, it was highly expedient to observe, in order to increase the chances of victory. Vows (vota) were offered to the native gods, and for these to be valid they must be couched in a form prescribed by the pontifical college.[226] And sometimes the king, before a battle or a siege, chants an incantation (carmen), the purport of which is to weaken the loyalty of the enemies’ gods to their worshippers, and to bring them over to the side of Rome. He bribes them with temples, offerings, and the honours of a special cult.[227] If the bribery is effective and the city falls, he must carry out his pledge. The conquered gods are received at Rome; and their worship is guaranteed by the distribution of their cults over the patrician clans.[228] The instances preserved of this devotio and evocatio naturally date from the time of the Republic.[229] During this period the forms are prescribed by the pontiffs. But the antiquity of the procedure is beyond question. The results of evocation on the part of the king, who was his own pontiff, are manifested in the local worships of the conquered towns of Latium, which found an early home at Rome.

If we turn from the religious to the civil powers of the king, it is easier to estimate their extent than to determine the precise modes of their exercise. Later belief credited him with the sole executive power of the state. The Roman kings possessed πᾶσα ἀρχή, and exercised the imperium at their own discretion.[230] Such statements are not surprising if we remember what is implied in the imperium, and that there appear to have been no legal limitations to its exercise during the monarchy. Imperium implied the combination of the highest military and civil authority; it united jurisdiction with command in war, and it included the further right of intercourse with the people (jus rogandi); while the later restrictions on this power, the limitation of office by time or by colleagueship, had not yet been created. The king held office for life, and he had no colleague; for the other officials in the state must have been mere delegates whom, in the strict theory of the constitution, he permitted to exist.

But if the king’s power was legally free from restraint, and we do not believe that there was any large body of leges binding his authority, it could not have been free from the limitations imposed by custom and constitutional usage. Customary law securing rights for the people is said to have been raised to the level of positive law by Servius Tullius.[231] But even the earlier usages must have formed a kind of code—such a code as that which contained the pontifical ordinances known as the leges regiae.[232] It was the belief in the existence of this early customary law which led to the later description of the king’s power as an imperium legitimum.[233] Amongst his constitutional obligations was that of consulting the Senate in any important matter.

There can be little doubt that the original council of elders (senatus) was a body of nominees selected by the king as his permanent advising body (consilium publicum).[234] In consequence the position of senator could not have been a life-office; there could neither have been any definite mode of attaining the dignity, nor any claim on the part of an individual to retain it. A new king might decline to summon some of his predecessor’s councillors; he might even, perhaps, change the personnel of his advisers during the course of his reign. It was in later times believed that the freedom of selection was so great that no stigma attached to members who were “passed over” (praeteriti) by the king.[235]