DRACO, a celebrated Athenian legislator who flourished in the 7th century B,c. By a strange irony of fate his name has passed into a proverb for an inexorable lawgiver, whose laws were written with blood and not with ink. Modern Greek historians, such as Thirlwall, Grote, and Curtius, have clearly shown that such a character is an utter perversion of fact. Of Draco’s famous code not a single line remains, and all we know of it is derived from a few scattered notices occurring mostly in late Greek authors. Of these the most important is a passage in Plutarch’s life of Solon. After stating that Solon abolished the whole of Draco’s legislation, except in cases of murder, on account of its harshness and severity, Plutarch adds by way of commentary—“Forfor nearly all crimes there was the same penalty of death. The man who was convicted of idleness, or who stole a cabbage or an apple, was liable to death no less than the robber of temples or the murderer.” To the same effect is a traditional saying of Draco by which he justified the rigour of his laws. The least offence, he said, seemed to him deserving of death, and he could devise no greater for the worst crime. It is obvious that the statement of Plutarch is not meant to be accepted as a literal statement of fact, and it is probable that to the most bloodthirsty of Draco’s laws parallels might be quoted from English statutes against vagrancy and theft. All that Draco did was to put in writing the customary laws of his time and nation. It was natural that these laws, the growth of a rude and primitive age, should strike writers of the Augustan age as in discriminative and inhuman. That he made no change in the constitution of Athens we have the express testimony of Aristotle. The judicial changes which he ...effected, so far from aggravating, all tended to mitigate the severity of early Athenian law. Before his time all cases of homicide were tried by the Areopagus, and we are justified in inferring that death was the universal penalty. To Draco is generally attributed the establishment of the e<∕>∈ται, a body of fifty-one elders, who sat in four different courts,—one for cases of accidental homicide, a second for justifiable homicide, a third for cases where. another homicide had been committed abroad by a prisoner who had been banished by one of the above-named courts, and a fourth for cases of deodand. Such an institution is of itself enough to explode the traditional conception of Draco, and we may now proceed to discuss the true character of his legislation. At Athens, as at Rome, the kings were the depositaries and administrators of law. With the extinction of the regal power this prerogative passed into the hands of the aristocracy as represented by the archons. It was in the nature of things that such a monopoly should be abused. The remedy for this abuse which the commons sought was a published code of laws. It was attained at Rome by the law of the Twelve Tables, and at Athens by the code of Draco, 621 b.c. In both cases the promulgated law was merely an enunciation of existing customs. Such was the work of Draco. Of his life we know absolutely nothing with the exception of a most improbable story related by Suidas. In Suidas’s Lexicon, under the word “Draco,” we are told that he composed his code in his old age, and was smothered to death in the theatre at Aegina with the caps, chitons, and cloaks which were thrown at him by an enthusiastic audience. The only value of the story is that it may show the feelings with which he was regarded by the commons of his own day.
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