s." The viscount in his tower defending the entrance to a
valley or the passage of a ford, the marquis thrown as a forlorn hope
on the burning frontier, sleeps with his hand on his weapon, like an
American lieutenant among the Sioux behind a western stockade. His
dwelling is simply a camp and a refuge. Straw and heaps of leaves cover
the pavement of the great hall, here he rests with his troopers, taking
off a spur if he has a chance to sleep. The loopholes in the wall
scarcely allow daylight to enter; the main thing is not to be shot
with arrows. Every taste, every sentiment is subordinated to military
service; there are certain places on the European frontier where a child
of fourteen is required to march, and where the widow up to sixty is
required to remarry. Men to fill up the ranks, men to mount guard, is
the call, which at this moment issues from all institutions like the
summons of a brazen horn.--Thanks to these braves, the peasant(villanus)
enjoys protection. He is no longer to be slaughtered, no longer to be
led captive with his family, in herds, with his neck in the yoke. He
ventures to plow and to sow, and to reply upon his crops; in case of
danger he knows that he can find an asylum for himself, and for
his grain and cattle, in the circle of palisades at the base of the
fortress. By degrees necessity establishes a tacit contract between
the military chieftain of the donjon and the early settlers of the
open country, and this becomes a recognized custom. They work for him,
cultivate his ground, do his carting, pay him quittances, so much for
house, so much per head for cattle, so much to inherit or to sell; he is
compelled to support his troop. But when these rights are discharged he
errs if, through pride or greed, he takes more than his due.--As to the
vagabonds, the wretched, who, in the universal disorder and devastation,
seek refuge under his guardianship, their condition is harder. The soil
belongs to the lord because without him it would be uninhabitable. If
he assigns them a plot of ground, if he permits them merely to encamp
on it, if he sets them to work or furnishes them with seeds it is on
conditions, which he prescribes. They are to become his serfs, subject
to the laws on mainmorte.[1111] Wherever they may go he is to have
the right of fetching them back. From father to son they are his born
domestics, applicable to any pursuit he pleases, taxable and workable
at his discretion. They are not all