HISTORY OF FREEMASONRY
CHAPTER V

THE ROMAN COLLEGIA

by H.L. HAYWOOD

AMERICANS who have not yet advanced far into the twilight of
life are able to recall an epoch in the social history of the country
that has now largely passed away. Children were born into homes
in which their father had been born before them and his father,
perhaps, before him. Grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins
resided in the same neighborhood, not too far apart for frequent
interchanges of visits. For an established family to remove from
the neighborhood, or a new to enter it, was an incident sufficiently
rare to flutter the dovecote of gossip. If one became ill or suffered
from accident or failed in business or lost a job or encountered
other misadventure, kinsfolk and neighbors were on hand to
perform whatever ministrations of friendship the case seemed to
demand. A cordon of benevolent protection was thrown about the
conduct of each individual, for where his daily doings were so
closely woven into the lives of others, the community necessarily
exercised its influence for moral restraint or direction. The
community might be parochial in outlook and narrow in
limitations, but in return for individual support it accorded to each
member a sense of security and stability that made for prosperity
and peace. A man was strong with the strength of his
neighborhood.

Slowly at first and afterwards at accelerated pace, changes came.
Railways cut through quiet countrysides; life was stirred by the
shrill outcry of the locomotive. Daily newspapers brought the
clamor of the outside world into calm rounds of rural thought. The
telegraph and the telephone were nerve fibers vibrating with
strange sensations singularly disturbing to Village quiet. Highways
with hard surfaces replaced the country roads. Swiftly moving
motor cars annihilated distance. Factories replaced home
industries, destroyed village occupations and lured young men and
women into larger towns, which in turn grew into cities population
began to pyramid in amazing fashion. Inashort time the center of
gravity had shifted from the country to the city.

Social life underwent corresponding changes. Families were forced
to move about, in response to shifting currents of employment. An
influx of immigration tinctured the old rural American culture with
new and sometimes disconcerting colors. The home began to
disintegrate into a mere place to eat and sleep. Children were more
often sent away from home to be educated the head of the house
frequently found work miles away; the family washing was sent to
laundries; homemade preserves, pickles, jellies, salted meats and
even bread succumbed to the products of the cannery, the bakery
and the delicatessen store; clothes were bought ready tailored;
hired nurses were called in to attend the sick. Mounting rent and
incidental inconveniences drove families from individual houses
into apartments, flats and tenements, where neighbor was stranger
to neighbor. In some cases the moral bond of family life became
loosened or relaxed.

Isolated among strangers, the individual found himself bereft of the
old-time supports. Few gave more than perfunctory notice if he
became ill, disabled or bankrupt. Thus thrown largely upon his
own private resources, he began to feel the tension of life as he had
not felt it before. Loneliness beset him, worries increased, his
temper became unsettled. If he had not already incurred the
obligations of family life, he was inclined to shrink from incurring
them, for fear the added strain might prove too great.

To escape from this feeling of helplessness men began organizing
themselves into fraternities, benefit societies, insurance
associations, clubs and innumerable other artificial groups, the
grand purpose of them all being to supply one or many of the
deficiencies left by the passing of the old home community. This
development of fraternal life set a lamp at the heart of the modern
world, revealing its misery and its unfulfilled social longings. Why
this has received so little attention from professional sociologists
remains a mystery, but such is the fact; the sociology of secret
societies calls in vain for its Lester Ward and its Franklin
Giddings.

The curve of the astounding growth of Freemasonry - cause of so
much anxiety to thoughtful Masons - coincides so exactly with this
transference of population from country to town that the relation of
the two becomes apparent. The statistics are eloquent. In 1890
there were in all the United States only 641,410 Master Masons.
By 1910, when the trend of population to the city had become
marked, the number had grown to 1,369,760. In 1915 lodge rolls
contained a total of 1,656,061, and by 1924 it had leaped to
2,971,662, a gain of 1,315,601 in nine years or an average yearly
gain of 146,178. On January 1, 1927, the total had passed beyond
3,000,000. At the same time, and no doubt for the same reason,
other fraternities, the Odd Fellows, Eastern Star, Knights of
Columbus, Knights of Pythias, Woodmen and scores beside,
recorded growths equally astonishing. Nowadays the man or
woman who does not belong to some club, fraternity or other
organized group, is so rare as almost to be considered a social
deviate.

This modern development of fraternalism parallels to a remarkable
degree the rise and growth of a similar movement in the
Graeco-Roman world of twenty centuries ago. The redemptive
rites of the Mysteries, as has already appeared in the course of this
narrative, made an irresistible appeal to men in a state of moral or
religious bankruptcy. Something needs now to be said about
another system which flourished alongside the Mysteries, partly in
response to the same need and to an extent duplicating their
methods. It produced certain associations of workers employed in
skilled crafts, which are commonly known as the Roman collegia.

In the period of the Roman republic, life was stable and secure, for
most classes at least, and family ties were close - closer, perhaps
than were our own a generation or so ago. The imperial regime
brought changes which altered the whole structure of Roman
society. The country man was uprooted from his native soil; an
independent working class was altered into a proletariat or still
further demoted into slavery. The native toiler was exposed to
competition from aliens who arrived in great throngs. Farmsteads
were merged into great estates. Villages were overshadowed by
rapidly growing cities with slums and tenement districts.

This alteration penetrated to the marrow of individual life. A man
came to live among strangers; nervous tension increased and there
was an inevitable search for relief in gaudy shows or in exciting
pastimes. The individual burdened by family responsibilities was
thrown back upon his own unaided resources, with the
consequences that

On that Hard Roman world, disgust
And silent loathing fell;
Deep weariness and sated lust
Made human life a hell.

"In the blank wilderness created by universal despotism," wrote Sir
Samuel Dill, "the craving for sympathy and mutual succor inspired
a great social movement, which legislation was powerless to check
Probably no age, not even our own, ever felt a greater craving for
some form of social life, wider than the family and narrower than
the State."

That craving was satisfied to a large extent by the collegia, social
organizations combining a little of the functions of a modern trade
union with a little of the modern club, but with an element of
religion and charity not found in either. Such clubs had previously
grown up among the Greeks - the Hetaireiai. Usually they revolved
about some local deity, although many of them were doubtless of
political character resembling in this respect later societies which
sprang up in eighteenth-century Europe. Egypt also had its peculiar
type of club, records of which were found among the papyri in the
Fayum, and there were collegia in North Africa and Asia Minor.

The collegia - collegia fabrorum - actually existed long before the
imperial period of Roman history. Numa Pompilius, who ruled
some 650 years before the Christian era, is said in certain legends
not only to have founded them but also to have divided the various
trades into distinct districts, each with its own independent society.
Associations of masons, musicians, goldsmiths, potters, tanners,
shoemakers, braziers and dyers, are mentioned by Plutarch, but
there is an intimation of still others even at that early day. They
were formally recognized by the state, had their own laws and
were ruled by their own officials. From time to time new
associations came into being, but as the centuries passed, official
recognition became more difficult to obtain. Ultimately all
associations of the kind were frowned upon by tyrants of the
imperial period and membership in many of them rendered an
individual liable to severe penalties.

That the collegia derived from still older societies there can be
little doubt. Several learned attempts have been made to connect
them with the Dionysiac Artificers of Asia Minor, but beyond
showing general resemblances these efforts have been far from
successful. It is probable, however, that in their earlier stages a
majority were little more than burial clubs. His pagan theology
taught the ancient Roman that if his memory was neglected after
death his spirit would wander, lonely and homeless. Accordingly it
was natural for men to band together in little groups - each with its
own meeting place, its treasury and its officers - the principal
function of which was to preserve the memory of the departed and
to see that each member received sepulture according to his desire.

Afterwards almost every clique of persons having common
interests organized its own college. Servants in some great house
would have one; garbage collectors had one, and so it was with pig
raisers, merchants, wine growers. Every legion carried with it
collegia of masons, carpenters, road makers, bridge builders and
what not. Subsequently the system crystallized into a regime of
tyranny, with the emperor at its head, so that a man was compelled
to carry on the trade his father had followed before him; in some
cases men were forbidden to leave one community to go into
another in search of work. Among craft organizations were
collegia of men engaged in various branches of the building trade,
but there is little evidence to show that these in any way occupied a
peculiar place or received special attention. Indeed all collegia
were taken so much for granted that literary men of the time did
not give them special notice. Modern knowledge of them is
obtained mainly through archaeology, although the silence of
historians regarding these things now appears as strange as it
would be for American historians to pass over in silence such
important social factors as trade unionism, fraternalism and the
public school system.

Although enthusiastic writers have tried to prove that the collegia
employed a form of organization almost identical with that of the
Masonic lodge, no strong case has been made out for that
contention. Their members, or sodales, had the right of electing
their officers and of balloting for new members. Admission was at
first reserved to freemen, but the Code of Justinian permitted the
admission of slaves with the consent of the masters of such slaves.
Honorary memberships were occasionally created for patrons, as
afterwards was done by operative Freemasons.

The typical college met in a building or hall, seldom owned by
itself, called the schola, sometimes the curia. Presiding officers
were known as proesides or magistri. Next to them in importance
were the decuriones, the designation being held by some
authorities to indicate there may have been one such supervisor or
warden for every ten members. Different collegia appear to have
had different subordinate officers - or at least different names for
them - as factores and quoestores for the management of business
affairs, haruspices or soothsayers, and secretaries of one kind and
another. There was also a general division of the membership,
apparently according to the mechanical proficiency of each
craftsman. There were dues and fees and there was a constitution
or set of by-laws. Being poor, collegia were usually glad to accept
fees and legacies or to obtain the patronage of some person of high
rank who might be depended on to use his influence to throw work
in the way of the membership.

It will be seen at once that the college was little like a modern
Masonic lodge, either in its purposes or in its organization. There
is no closer analogy between its officers and the official staff of a
lodge than there is between the lodge's staff and that of almost any
other organized group. Every society which meets at stated periods
needs a presiding officer, and he will require assistants. If records
are to be kept there will be need for a secretary; if funds are to be
handled there will be need for a treasurer. A good deal more has
been made of such resemblances than the facts appear to justify.

Affording, as they did, unusual opportunities for secret
assemblage, the collegia gradually fell under official suspicion in
the troubled days of the empire. Julius Caesar and Augustus both
issued edicts ordering the suppression of all of them, "except those
which had been anciently instituted." The Justinian Code upheld
this distinction. That even the most ancient and honored societies
did not escape mistrust is apparent from a letter in which Trajan
refused Pliny's request for permission to establish a collegium of
builders at Nicomedia. "Whatever name we may give to them," the
Emperor wrote, "bodies of men, however small in number, who are
drawn together by the same design will become political societies."

Nevertheless, and in spite of the ever-present danger to tyrants
which is inherent in such associations, collegia of the more
intelligent classes of artisans were too useful to be destroyed. This
was particularly true of those whose members practiced building
trades. Roman legions on the march in hostile regions needed
masons and carpenters in whose loyalty they could trust and bridge
builders in whose work they could repose confidence. Workmen of
this kind were to be found in the collegia; indeed, if they were
found at all and thrown together they could be depended upon to
organize their own collegia. This was especially the case among
stone masons, since the nature of their work required them to
journey from place to place and they were forced to make of a
collegium a substitute for the homes from which they were so
frequently compelled to wander.

For Freemasons this naturally raises the important question of what
relationship, if any, existed between Roman collegia of this kind
and the trade guilds of the Middle Ages. If a definite connection
can be established, it also connects Freemasonry with the collegia,
since beyond question Freemasonry emerged from operative
mason guilds of medieval times. On this point there has been
heated and, unfortunately, inconclusive debate. H.C. Coote in The
Romans of Britain - extensively quoted first chapter of Gould's
History - observes that Roman collegia spread throughout Britain
in the Roman occupation; that they continued without molestation
by the later Anglo-Saxon invaders, and survived as medieval
guilds.

Coote makes note of the fact that Germanic conquerors of Gaul
and Italy ruthlessly suppressed collegia in those lands, looking
upon them as seminaries of free Roman thought, but he concludes
that the Anglo-Saxons were lenient in Britain "either out of
ignorance of their tendency or contempt of their effect." But
Freeman in The History of the Norman Conquest and Haverfield in
The Roman Occupation of Great Britain agree that Roman
civilization was utterly destroyed in Britain by its Anglo-Saxon
conquerors. They observe that the followers of Horsa and Hengist,
unlike other Germanic tribes which overran other parts of the
Roman empire, had no desire to acquire the culture of conquered
peoples. Even town life was hateful to them. Whatever vestiges of
Roman social life are to be found in England, these authors appear
to think, are not remains of the civilization stamped out by the
Anglo-Saxons but are survivals taken back to England in the
Norman conquest. Haverfield even goes so far as to declare that no
case is known where Saxons dwelt in a Roman villa.

It is difficult to believe that where all else was so completely
destroyed the collegia alone survived. They depended almost
entirely upon the existence of towns and upon craft activities. Even
if they had escaped the natural suspicions of Anglo-Saxon
overlords, their usefulness must have been destroyed through force
of hostile economic pressure. It is clear that if there was a bridge
between the collegia and the medieval guilds it must be sought
elsewhere.

Gould turned aside for a moment to examine the possibility that
such a bridge could be found at Byzantium, or, as it is now known,
Constantinople. He referred to George F. Fort's The Early History
and Antiquities of Freemasonry, a work published in the period
midway between the older school of thought represented by
Preston and Oliver and the modern school of which Gould himself
was one of the founders. Fort argued that the collegia of builders
did not pass out of existence under the impact of barbarian
invasions but found asylum at Byzantium and remained intact
behind the defenses of that city; that a new culture arose there, in
which Oriental, Roman and Greek elements blended, with the
Greek predominating; that in the building up of Gothic civilization
trained artists and artisans emerged from their Byzantine refuge to
perpetuate the traditions of classical culture.

In support of this theory Fort constructed an elaborate and brilliant
thesis which occupies the most considerable portion of his
ingenious and readable book. He described in some detail the
general history of the collegia, told how Augustus began to look
upon them with distrust, how Trajan crushed them under the
grinding force of governmental power, how Alexander Severus
endeavored to resuscitate them, how Constantine, by imperial
rescript, transplanted the collegia of builders to Byzantium and
there established them on a sound and enduring foundation.
Theodosius in 438 confirmed the grants of Constantine.

Unfortunately for this contention, however, it appears that Fort
confused the arts possessed by the collegia with the collegia
themselves. He assumes that because the trades continued to
flourish in Byzantium the old Roman trades organizations
continued with them and became in time the guilds of the Middle
Ages. On the contrary, there is stronger and better evidence that
Byzantium developed a new culture of its own, preserving, of
course, much that was borrowed from earlier Greece and Rome. If
the collegia did survive in the Eastern city adequate proof thereof
is wanting.

"When Constantine moved his capital to the shores of the
Bosphorus," Arthur Kingsley Porter wrote in Medieval
Architecture: Its Origins and Development, "he exerted every
energy to make the new Rome as splendid in architecture as the
old. The number and size of the buildings which, according to
contemporary authors, he caused to be erected is well-nigh
incredible. Executed with more than the usual Roman haste, these
buildings were probably inferior to the really remarkable structures
erected at this epoch elsewhere in the Empire. At least, the fact that
of all the vast city of Constantine hardly a single monument has
survived to our day, argues ill for the character of the
workmanship. As to the general style of these edifices, we are left
in no doubt, although no examples are extant - they could have
been only Roman. Similarly the earliest churches of
Constantinople must unquestionably have been basilicas of the
usual Latin type.

"The Roman period in Byzantine architecture was doubtless
succeeded by one of transition, during which the individual
character of the Eastern style gradually took form. The monuments
furnish us with actual knowledge of the progress of this
development only after the middle of the V century, a time when
the change had already been almost completed. However, by a
study of the historical conditions of the time, and by comparison of
the later monuments, it is possible to construct in broad outline the
story of this growth."

The author then sketches in colorful phrase the story of how, when
Rome was being pillaged by barbarian hordes, Byzantium was
gradually freeing itself from Latin influence. The Latin tongue
gave way to Greek, and Plato, Aristotle and Homer came once
more into their own. Byzantines looked toward the Parthenon and
discovered that Greek decoration was superior to Roman. From
India, Persia and China came rugs, silks, fabrics and hangings in
colors that were luminous and not harsh like the reds and yellows
and blacks of Rome. Thus Byzantine architecture built upon
Roman foundations, but looked to the old Hellenic monuments for
its models of beauty and to the Orient for its richness of color.

Interesting as this undoubtedly is, it is rather conclusively against
the theory that the Roman collegium passed into the guild of the
later Gothic period by way of Byzantium. In the first place, the
immunity granted by Constantine excusing certain workmen from
obligations of public service extended to persons in other crafts
than those of building and architecture. In the second place there is
no evidence that the collegia could and did survive the general
Hellenization of the Eastern city. In the third place, there is strong
reason for believing that the medieval guild system was an
autochthonous development out of general medieval culture, owing
fully as much to Teutonic influences as to those of Byzantium and
Rome. Indeed, almost any process of reasoning by analogy which
would show essential relationship between the guilds and the
collegia, could be used also to show essential relationship between
the guilds and various ancient Scandinavian and Teutonic
brotherhoods. Herbert Spencer traced the guild system to customs
of paternal inheritance; and Maine, as A. E. Crawley observed in
his treatise contributed to the Encyclopaedia of Religion and
Ethics, traced it to primitive customs of adoption.

In other words, the specialists have not been able to agree among
themselves as to the origin of the guild, and about the best
hypothesis of the matter is that of Crawley that they were a growth
from the crossing of Teutonic and Greco-Roman ideas and
institutions. Fort's attempt to find the bridge at Byzantium must
therefore be set down as having failed of approval in the courts of
critical opinion.

Other bridges have been sought elsewhere, and notably in southern
France and on Lake Como. The possibility that it is to be found
among the Comacine Masters is a subject so large in itself that it
must be discussed in a separate chapter. Moreover, differences
between the collegia and the guilds are quite as marked as are their
similarities.

The collegia were essentially social clubs, affected by religion,
with little or no control over hours, laws, wages or conditions of
labor; the medieval guilds, as will be shown hereafter, were trade
organizations, one of their principal purposes being to direct their
members in the proper conduct of their work. From this it is not to
be understood that the guilds had many things in common with the
modern trades union. On the contrary, as J. S. Reid has sagaciously
observed, there is hardly a single true point of comparison.
Medieval workers as organized into a society might obtain certain
advantages which, scattered as individuals, they could not hope to
get, but these societies did not attempt to control wages or
prescribe the conditions under which alone their members would
consent to work. They were maintained for the technical
betterment of the craftsmen themselves, for social relaxation, for
relief of the distressed, for preserving the operative secrets of their
trade and, no doubt, for the moral improvement of the
membership.

This does not mean, however, that even if the collegia did pass
utterly away without leaving direct heirs they handed nothing
down to the guilds and, by consequence, to Freemasonry. Their
influence was felt in more than one part of Europe long after their
history had been forgotten. It could scarcely be otherwise. The
rude inhabitants of many a barbaric village in Africa, in Gaul, in
Spain and in the far-away regions beyond the Danube must have
marveled at the works and the working methods of these societies
of Roman artisans, must have culled out and preserved whatever
they could understand or use. Roman social organization could be
extirpated root and branch while Roman intrenchments, Roman
walls and Roman viaducts, roads and bridges defied "the unsparing
ravages of barbarous force." Ideas are more indestructible than
viaducts.

When the Dark Ages were at their darkest the germs of the great
revival were lying dormant far under ground, needing but sunnier
skies to spring up again into new and abundant life. There were
numerous towns that had maintained unbroken connections with
the past. In these, if nowhere else, memories and traditions
lingered, handed down from fathers to sons, altered no doubt in the
telling but still basically the same. Nowhere is there positive and
incontrovertible evidence connecting Freemasonry, in a direct line
through the guilds, with the Roman collegia. Neither is there
positive and incontrovertible evidence denying such connection
may actually have existed.