village, and avenge the wrong on the women and children of the Turks.
It was a very rough form of justice; but gradually the Turks began to fear the brigands, and in this fear they became more considerate toward the Greeks.
That period, with all its ferocity and unspeakable brutality, was the period of modern Greek chivalry; for those men did not attack for money. They levied on the people merely for enough to live; but when they descended on them as avengers of their countrymen's wrongs they were merciless—and they did rob the Turkish garrisons. In the Revolution of 1821, much of the powder used by the Greeks was Turkish powder, and many a Turk died by a gun he once had carried.
My brigands knew every one of the ballads of that time. They snatched them from each other's mouths, and recited them with no little talent and dramatic power. They passed on to the Revolution itself, and to the poetry which followed afterward. It was then Mano and I joined in. At that time I knew the poetry of the Revolution better than I have ever known any other subject since. Mano and I recited to them the poems of Zalakosta and of Soutzo, of Paparighopoulo, and of the other great poets who were inspired by the exploits of the Greeks from 1821 to 1829.
