But they were against being killed, so they screamed for help and sent men running, and while they fought off the attackers they made contact with other peasants working in other fields and pretty soon there were about two hundred of them beating up the overseers. And finally they killed them all. Then they started to move, and they went to the baron’s house. He was away at the time and they knew it. So they went into the house and tore it apart. They broke the furniture and pulled the strings out of the piano – which they had never seen before – and they ripped the stuffings out of the sofas and tore the pictures out of their frames on the walls. They went into the kitchen and spilled salt all over everything edible and they ran up the big stone staircase and tore the bedrooms apart. And then they found the box.

In the master’s bedroom they found this strongbox, and because it had a big lock on it they ripped the lock out and opened the box. And inside they found many beautiful pictures of the king. They knew it was the king because in their huts the baron had ordered that they hang the king’s picture beside the crucifix. But their pictures of the king were not as beautiful as these in the trunk. These were surrounded with golden curlicues and there were words written along the borders. They loved their king so they took the bundles of pictures out of the box and distributed them among themselves. It was very strange that all the pictures were exactly alike, and they could not get over the fact. After this they left the house and went back to their fields and continued their work, each man with at least ten or twelve of the pictures carefully folded in his pocket.. They were going to replace their old pictures of the king with these new ones. A few of them had enough to cover all the walls of their huts and could not wait for the sun to set so they could get home and do it.

But that evening the baron returned. When he found his house that way and all his overseers murdered, he dispatched a rider to the city which lay a few miles to the east where the king’s soldiers were kept in barracks. Then he walked among the huts of his peasants and saw these pictures on the walls. He said nothing, however, and went back to his house.

But he did not stay there long. He got on his horse and rode out of his estate and into the little village that lay nearby. There were many Jewish families in this village and one of them was that of Itzik, a peddler, who was at home after a season of traveling the countryside with pots and pans which he sold to the country folk. The baron called this Itzik out of his house and said, ‘I have changed my policy. The gate of the manor will be open to you tonight. Go there with your wares and if any of my serfs wish to buy, you may sell them whatever they can pay for. I am not going to supply them myself any longer.’