De l'utilité et de la valeur primitives des fonds de terre [ 27 ]

CHAP. 9: On the primitive utility and value of lands [ 27 ]

THERE are three principal ways of acquiring properties: the first is to create them by one's labor; the second, to receive them from those who have formed them and who consent to transmit them to us; the third, to snatch them by force or by cunning from those who possess them.

There exists among all peoples a certain number of private fortunes, acquired by violence or by fraud; there exists an infinitely greater number, which the possessors have received from those who had created or usurped them: but it is not of properties acquired by voluntary transmissions, or by usurpation, that I propose to treat at this moment; these means of acquiring properties do not explain their formation.

Families or nations have been able to enrich themselves by violence or by fraud only insofar as other families or other nations had acquired riches by other means: violence and fraud displace riches, but do not create them. It was equally necessary, to enrich oneself by voluntary transmissions, that properties had already been formed by labor; for there would have been no transmission possible, if there had been no creation.

The things to which we give the name of properties, having importance only by reason of the services we draw from them, and of the labors to which we are obliged to devote ourselves to obtain them, it is easy to understand in what manner most movable properties are formed; as some are created every day before our eyes, it suffices to observe the processes of industry and commerce to know whence come the qualities that render them fit to satisfy our needs.

One does not see so clearly how immovable properties are formed, and particularly those that consist in lands. In countries whose civilization is ancient, the lands that are in the patrimony of families have been in the rank of private properties since very remote times. One therefore rarely has the occasion to observe how men manage to create, by labor and by accumulated values, properties of this kind, without taking anything away from anyone. To observe their formation, one would have to be present at the first developments of society, at the moment when men pass from nomadic life to agricultural life. One would have to observe moreover the influence of the growth of properties on the population, and the influence of the growth of the population on the value of properties.

But, if it is impossible for us to observe among ourselves and among the nations that have long been civilized how individual properties consisting in lands are formed, nothing is easier for us than to observe their creation, either among the peoples who are emerging from barbarism, or in the savage countries where civilized men go to form establishments. We will see, moreover, by the monuments of our history, and by what happens daily before our eyes, that all properties, whatever their nature, are formed in the same manner.

In the most flourishing and most populous countries, there is not a house, not a monument, of which all the materials have not been drawn from the bowels of the earth or from the midst of the forests; there is not a field that was not uncultivated, at a more or less remote epoch, and that did not begin to be put into cultivation a first time; there is not a fence that was not formed by the hand of a man; there is not a tree fit to give fruit that has come without the help of industry; finally, there is not an easy means of communication, not a canal, not a road, not a path that was not traced by men.

Before the things to which human industry has made to undergo the modifications that render them fit to satisfy our needs had experienced any change by the hands of men, where then were these numerous populations that exist only by them? They were nowhere; the lands they occupy were but vast deserts, traversed by a few wandering tribes. In all countries, the population has therefore followed the same developments as properties; and if things returned to the state in which they were before the hand of man had fashioned them, the population would disappear with them.

In the last days of the Roman republic, a great part of Europe was still uncultivated and savage. Paris was but a miserable hamlet enclosed in an island of the Seine, and protected by impassable marshes[^28]. The islands that the Rhine forms at its mouth were occupied only by true savages, who lived on fish and birds' eggs[^29]. A considerable part of Gaul was covered with immense forests, and could, consequently, be useful to men only by the game it furnished them[^30]. Germany was also covered with immense forests; the peoples who occupied it were, for the most part, ignorant of the art of cultivating the land, and were separated from one another by vast deserts[^31]. Finally, the natives of the British isles were still more foreign to cultivation than the Germans; they were clothed only in animal skins, and tattooed themselves like the savages of the archipelagos of the great Ocean[^32]. In some parts of these islands, the use of bread was unknown toward the middle of the thirteenth century[^33].

If the Romans, at the time they carried war into these half-savage countries, had been able, like us, to consult historians anterior to them by several centuries, they would probably have taught us that these peoples had passed through a state analogous to that in which the natives of the north of America were at the epoch of the discovery of that continent. It is impossible, in effect, when one observes the gradual march of civilization, not to remain convinced that, in all countries, men have started from nearly the same degree of barbarism to arrive at the point where we see them.

Admitting that the European nations have gradually emerged from the state of barbarism, it would be necessary to engage in two operations to know exactly what are the properties to which human industry has given birth. It would be necessary to determine, on the one hand, the value that the properties of a determined territory, of the basin of the Seine, for example, had in the most remote times; and to see, on the other hand, what is today the value of the properties contained in the same space. In comparing the former to the latter, one would find, in the difference, the riches or the properties formed by the hand of man.

One could, without going back to a very remote time, ask, for example, what was the value, in the time of Caesar, of the marshes that surrounded the small hamlet that bore the name of Lutetia, and compare this value to that of all the movable or immovable properties that today occupy the place of these same marshes. It would be no exaggeration to say that a hotel of an average size, situated in one of the good quarters of Paris, is a more considerable property, that is to say, that it has more value in our eyes, than the lands on which the capital of France rests had in the eyes of the contemporaries of Caesar. One can make, on most of the cities and villages, the same observations that we make on the lands that surround the island of Lutetia.Cultivated lands, or those capable of cultivation, have experienced an increase in value analogous to that which the places upon which cities or villages have been built have undergone. At the time when Paris was but a small town, and when the other cities of the Seine basin did not exist, or were only hamlets, the lands produced only the subsistence necessary to support this meager population. The men to whom they gave the means to live were more poorly clothed, more poorly fed, and above all more poorly housed than are the men of our time; for the less progress industry has made, the more miserable men are. The properties that consist in lands have therefore increased by all that they produce in our time, beyond what they produced when they furnished a few small tribes with feeble means of existence. We have seen previously, in effect, that properties, whatever their nature, are evaluated not by volume or by extent, but by the advantages that men know how to derive from them. A hectare of land of a certain quality, or situated in a certain place, is often a more considerable property than ten hectares situated in another place, or of a different quality.

There would thus be a simple way to determine, at least approximately, the increase that the territorial properties of a nation have experienced in a given time: it would be to compare the number of men to whom they furnish means of existence at a certain epoch, to the number of those they support at another, taking into account the difference in well-being that exists between the two. If the Seine basin, for example, furnished means of existence to only five hundred thousand people at the time this country was invaded by the Romans; if today it furnishes them to six million, and if the men of our time were, in general, twice as well-provided for as the former were, it would be evident that the territorial properties would be twenty-four times more considerable in value today than they were then. The difference in value between the two epochs would be the result of human industry, seconded by the agents of nature.

One already glimpses, from this exposition, how man's labor gives, even to lands, a considerable part of the value they have in our eyes; but one will see even better how territorial properties are created by human industry, if one observes the help that the earth furnishes to man in the most barbarous state, and the labors to which he has had to devote himself to bring a part of it into a state of cultivation. One will be convinced, by these observations, that the individuals who first appropriated lands, by devoting themselves to cultivation, not only have taken nothing away from their fellow men, but have rendered them immense services [^34].

Before investigating what services can be drawn from the earth in countries where industry has made no progress, and where men live on what uncultivated and wild nature presents to them; before examining whence comes the utility it has in countries where civilization has made great progress, it is good to compare what extent of it is needed, in various countries, to support a determined number of men. One will see, by this comparison, how, as one goes back toward times or countries that are little civilized, the land loses more and more of its value, or how, to support a certain number of men, an ever more considerable extent of it is needed. This will also make it understood how, to support a family of savages, in an almost habitual state of distress, more land is needed than is needed in a civilized nation to support a city of five or six thousand inhabitants in comfort.

Taking an average, it takes, in France, to support a population of about twelve hundred individuals, a square league of terrain; in Prussia, the same extent of land furnishes means of existence to only about eight hundred people; in Denmark, the same space supports a little more than six hundred people; in Portugal, it supports nearly four hundred and fifty; in Turkey, a little more than three hundred; in Russia, it supports a little less than two hundred, and only eighty-two in Sweden and Norway.

Admitting that, in these various countries, one enjoys roughly the same sum of well-being, it follows that a hectare of land, in France, is a property equal to a hectare and a half in Prussia, to two hectares in Denmark, to nearly three in Portugal, to four in the Turkish empire, to a little more than six in the Russian empire, and to more than twelve in Norway and Sweden [^35].

The former kingdom of Mexico presents us with an even more striking example of the differences that exist between the various provinces of that part of America, relative to the number of men that a given extent of land supports. Here were, in 1803, according to the report of M. Alexander von Humboldt, the extent and the population of each of the intendancies into which this kingdom was divided [^36].

One sees, by this table, that the number of persons to whom a square league of terrain furnishes means of existence rises gradually from 6 to 586. In America, as in all countries, the well-being of the inhabitants is generally in proportion to the progress of civilization. I will suppose, however, to simplify the calculation, that in the regions of Mexico where the land furnishes means of existence to only six or seven persons per square league, one is as well-provided with everything as in those where industry has already made progress. In this supposition, and always admitting that the importance of a property is measured by the resources it presents to men, and not by the extent or by the quantity of matter of which it is composed, we will find that the value of lands increases, from one intendancy to another, in the following progression: 6, 7, 10, 12, 38, 65, 66, 81, 109, 120, 255, 301, 586. The extent of land that would be worth only six francs in the former intendancy of Sonora would be worth two hundred and fifty-five in that of Mexico, and five hundred and eighty-six in that of Guanaxuato. It would be worth nearly twelve hundred in France, and more than fourteen hundred in England. It follows from this that a hectare of land, in a country such as France, is a property as considerable as two hundred hectares in a country such as certain states of Mexico [^37].

But let us not lose sight of the fact that, in the vast provinces where a square league of terrain furnishes means of existence to only one family, that is to say to six or seven persons, the soil is not completely abandoned to its natural fertility; it has already received a certain value from the inhabitants. Some parts are cultivated, others serve to graze flocks, and the population, however weak it is, has already undergone an increase proportional to the progress of cultivation. What then would be the extent of land that each individual would need, in a country where human industry was limited to gathering what uncultivated and wild nature presents? What would be, in such a country, the value of the land, compared to what it is worth in a civilized nation?

One could determine in two ways the extent of land that is necessary to furnish means of existence to a person in the savage state: one would be to calculate the number of men of which a horde of savages is composed, and the extent of the territory that is proper to it; the other would be to examine what the earth produces when it is abandoned to its natural fertility, and to compare the needs of a certain number of individuals to the resources that the uncultivated earth presents to them.

The first means can be employed with difficulty, because travelers have never been able to determine, in a very exact manner, either the number of persons of which the savage hordes they have visited were composed, or the extent of the territory they occupied. A philosopher-traveler has attempted, however, to make this calculation; Volney thought that, in the north of America, a little more than a square league of terrain was needed to support a man in the savage state [^38]. This evaluation, far from being exaggerated, seems to me, on the contrary, below the truth; firstly, because the savages of whom this traveler speaks were not completely devoid of industry; and secondly, because they found means of existence in the lakes and in the rivers. If, in certain very extensive parts of Mexico, a square league of terrain supports only six persons who are not entirely foreign to cultivation, it is difficult to believe that, in an entirely uncultivated country, the same space suffices for the existence of a single one. In the most remote parts of northern Europe, in Lapland, a square league of land is needed to support a man, and yet one enjoys there some of the advantages of civilization. How would a more extensive space not be needed in completely barbarous countries?

Man is not organized, like certain animals, to feed on most of the plants that uncultivated nature presents to him. For nearly seven months of the year, from the month of June to the month of October, under temperate climates, the earth produces nothing that can immediately serve him as food. For four or five months, it gives grains, fruits, vegetables; but, with the exception of a few berries, these plants grow with any abundance only on cultivated land. Travelers have become convinced, by experience, that one must not go looking, in savage countries, for plants or fruits fit to nourish them. If it happens by chance that the uncultivated earth produces some fruits or some grains, they fall and perish the moment they have reached their maturity. We know, in our country, of no substance fit to serve us as food that is preserved when it is abandoned on the soil: all that is not sheltered from humidity or from the teeth of animals has perished even before the time of frosts. The lands located between the tropics are a little more favored by nature than the others; yet they give almost nothing that can serve us as food, when they are not cultivated.

What then remains for man to feed himself? Fish and game; and it is, in effect, from fishing and hunting that savage peoples derive their means of existence. Fishing is a resource only for the tribes that live on the banks of rivers, lakes, and seas. The foods it furnishes them do not come, at least immediately, from the earth; we can leave them aside. We have to investigate here only the resources that the soil presents to us to feed, clothe, and shelter ourselves.

In the bad season, the earth abandoned to itself therefore offers only grasses, which must often be sought under the snow, at least over a large part of the globe. Men cannot make them their food; but animals feed on them, and these animals then become the prey of men. But what is the quantity of game that each of them needs to subsist? Let us suppose that an individual consumes one piece every two days, one with another, large and small. In this supposition, he needs one hundred and eighty-two pieces in the course of the year. To consume such a number annually, the species must perpetuate itself, and there must always exist, consequently, a number double that which is necessary for his consumption. Thus, here are already nearly five hundred and fifty animals necessary for the existence of a single man, during the course of each year.

But the savage man is not the only animal that lives by prey. There is, on the contrary, a very great number of others that live only by this means, that continually dispute his subsistence with him, and on which he cannot, however, feed himself. Supposing that all these animals combined make only a consumption equal to his, it will be necessary to double the number of pieces of game. Here then are eleven hundred pieces, without counting those that perish by accident, and that serve as food neither to man, nor to other animals [^39].

One must now ask what is the extent of terrain necessary to support, throughout the course of the year, such a great number of animals fit to serve as pasture for others. The number of those that can live in an uncultivated country is always determined by the quantity of food that the earth presents to them in the most rigorous season. If a more considerable number were born at the time when the soil offers them food in abundance, a part would perish of hunger as soon as the bad weather arrived. It is easy to see that a square league of terrain could not suffice to support during the winter, when the earth is covered with snow, such a great number of animals. Let us admit, however, that a square league is sufficient; in this supposition, to support a family of six persons, a territory of six square leagues will be needed. However great this extent may be, one will find that it is far from being exaggerated, if one does not forget that a square league of terrain supports only six or seven persons in vast countries where cultivation has already penetrated, and that a part of this weak population is often carried off by famine.

There is no truth better demonstrated than the state of misery and distress in which the tribes that derive all their means of existence from fishing, hunting, or the objects that uncultivated nature presents to them habitually live. A square league of terrain furnishes a savage with fewer resources than a worker among us finds in the exercise of the most common of trades. We can suppose, however, that, in the state of the most profound barbarism, men are as well-provided with all that is necessary for them to satisfy their needs, as in a state of civilization similar to that of France. In this supposition, a hectare of land in France will be a property perfectly equal to twelve hundred hectares in a completely savage country; the former will furnish the same resources as the latter. For the same reason, a hectare of land that would be worth twelve hundred francs among us would be worth only one franc among peoples who had made no progress in cultivation.

When the earth is abandoned to its natural fertility, a square league of it is therefore needed at least to furnish means of existence to a single man; but one must not imagine that, even in this state, it gives gratuitously the foods it presents; a savage, to seize his prey, needs to devote himself, almost every day, to long and fatiguing courses. The kind of industry to which he devotes himself, and the privations to which he is condemned, would be no less unbearable for a civilized man, than the labors to which the inhabitants of our countryside devote themselves would be for him. In all positions, it is therefore by his labor that man appropriates the things he needs to exist.

It follows from the preceding observations that the greatest part of the value that lands have among civilized nations is the result of the action that men have exercised upon them, and of the progress of the population. If a square league of land furnishes, among us, means of existence to twelve hundred persons, for example, eleven hundred parts of the value it has are products of human industry. The one-twelve-hundredth that remains represents the value that the land had, when, abandoned to its natural fertility, it served as a retreat for the animals necessary for the existence of a single man.

This difference, between the primitive value of the soil and the value given to it by human industry and the increase of the population which is its natural consequence, is so considerable that, to believe it, one must in a way do violence to one's mind. Yet, it is a truth whose evidence cannot be contested, when one observes what the value of lands is in the countries where civilization has never penetrated, and when one studies the history of the establishments formed by Europeans on lands that were inhabited only by savages.

If what precedes were not sufficient to demonstrate that the men who, first, put the land into cultivation, in whatever country it may be, and who thus appropriated it to themselves, have snatched nothing from their fellow men, the following chapters will suffice to give to this truth the character of evidence.

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Notes

[^28]: Caesar, Gallic War, lib. 7, cap. 9. [^29]: Ibid. lib. 4, cap. 5. [^30]: Ibid. lib. 5, cap. 1; lib. 6, cap. 5. [^31]: Ibid. lib. 6, cap. 4. [^32]: Ibid. lib. 5, cap. 4. [^33]: Hume's, History of England, chap. XII (1265). [^34]: Montesquieu had very well perceived the truths that I set forth here: "When nations do not cultivate the lands," he says, "here is in what proportion the number of men is found there. As the product of an uncultivated terrain is to the product of a cultivated terrain, so is the number of savages in the country to the number of laborers in another; and when the people who cultivate the lands also cultivate the arts, this follows proportions that would require many details." Spirit of the Laws, bk. XVIII, ch. x. [^35]: The government of Archangel, with an area of 30,000 square leagues, has only a population of 170,000 inhabitants, that is to say six individuals per square league. One hectare of land in France is a more considerable property than two hundred hectares in this part of the Russian empire. [^36]: Political Essay on New Spain, vol. 2, bk. 3, ch. 8. [^37]: It is well understood that these calculations can have exactness only by comparing large masses with one another, and by including in the value of the soil all that human industry has drawn from it. [^38]: Tableau of the Climate and Soil of the United States, vol. 2, p. 472-476. [^39]: The beasts that live only on prey are rare and travel little in troops; to furnish subsistence, in the most rigorous season, to the animals on which they feed, an immense extent of land is necessary; let us add that they generally destroy all those they encounter. Man, in the savage state, conducts himself in the same manner: he seizes his prey when he can take possession of it; if he let it escape, he would not be certain to encounter it a second time. Thus, at the same time that he needs a large number of animals to subsist, everything conspires to make them rare.