The Young Deliverers of Pleasant Cove

by Elijah Kellogg

"What were those?"

"The right to preserve the game, which meant that they might keep whole herds of deer and boars, and flocks of partridges, to overrun the peasant's land and eat up his crops. Did he presume to kill one, to save the bread of his family, he was sent to the galleys; and this right was not confined to their own lands, but extended to all the lands of the district. Yes, and the peasant was forbidden to weed or hoe his own grain, lest he should disturb the young partridges that were devouring his substance. Neither was he allowed to cut or plough under his own stubble, lest they should be deprived of shelter. This was a right granted by the king to princes of the blood. All these exactions came directly from the king, whom you pity so much. In addition to this were countless seignioral rights. There were perpetual dues. A seignior could sell his land, and still draw rent from the very peasant who had bought it of him in the shape of seignioral dues. They, too, had their 'corvées,' and the peasant was forced to labor for them a certain number of days in each year. On everything that he owned must he pay dues to them. Yes, he must pay them for the right of selling his own produce in the market. Though in my time this custom of stilling the frogs was abolished, we were compelled to pay a fine instead of it. When, amid all these impositions, the peasant has raised his grain, he can't have a hand-mill to grind it in. He must grind in the mill of the lord, bake his bread in the oven, and press his grapes and olives in the press of his master, and pay for the privilege, and, if unmarried, was subject to conscription; while from this and taxes the nobles were exempt, and so were thousands of others—petty clerks, government officers, and all worth over so much property. Thus all the burden of taxation was thrown upon the peasant because he was poor, and taken from the noble because he was not. To this it must be added that the clergy, with their tithes, took what little was left. Now, consider that I have omitted almost as much as I have mentioned, and you will be able to see the poor man's condition under the tyranny we have destroyed. That was the 'servitude of the soil.' Marvel not that we were frantic, and only thought of destroying everything that was an instrument of oppression while we had the power. Did you never see a dog bite the stone that had been flung at him?"

"Yes," replied Ned.

"So it was with us. We hated those mills; those presses, where we had been forced to work; those ovens, where we had been compelled to yield up a portion of our scanty loaf; broad avenues of trees that we and our folks had been forced to plant; those roads, adorned with trees so beautiful to others, were watered with the tears of the oppressed, and appeared frightful to us. In our delirium we thought only of destroying all that could remind us of those detested tyrants and those bitter days."

"I have understood," said Walter, "that, for these many years past, the peasants had been less hardly dealt with; that, although the laws remained unchanged upon the statute-books, they had not been rigidly enforced."

"That is true, citizens, and was the very reason of our rising."

"That is strange, that people should rise just when their condition was improving."

"Had you fallen into a deep pit, from which you could see no possible way of escape, you would resign yourself to your fate; but, did you perceive some projection upon which you might clamber and escape, would it not cause you to strain every nerve?"

"To be sure."

"Thus it was with us. When we were less hardly dealt with, we knew it was from lack of power; that it was not from charity, but fear. When we felt that the clutch of the oppressor was loosening on the peasant's throat, we were no longer resigned. Then came the news of what had been done in your country. Our children who had fought in your armies had returned. They brought with them these noble words, which were read to us by the few who could read: 'that all men are created free, and endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights: that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.' As we listened, tears flowed from our eyes, our hearts grew hot, we trembled with a feeling altogether new. We felt we also were men—struggled, broke our letters, were free! Then we put to their lips the bitter cup of which they had made us drink so long, avenged the wrongs of our ancestors, and our own, and gave them blood for blood."