We saw that the great revolt under David was put down by the assistance of mercenary troops, or hired "strong men," and that by their aid Solomon was elevated to the throne against the wishes of the peasantry. In the Hebrew text, these men of power are called _gibborim_. They were among the principal tools used by the kings in maintaining the government. It was the _gibborim_ who garrisoned the royal strongholds that held the country in awe. In cases where the peasants refused to submit, bands of _gibborim_ were sent out by the kings and the great nobles. Through them the peasantry were "civilized"; and through them, apparently, the Amorite law was enforced in opposition to the old justice. Hence the prophets were very bitter against these tools of the ruling class. Hosea writes: "Thou didst trust in thy way, in the multitude of thy _gibborim_; therefore shall a tumult arise against thy people; and all thy fortresses shall be destroyed." Amos, the shepherd, says that when Jehovah shall punish the land, the _gibborim_ shall fall: "Flight shall perish from the swift ... neither shall the _gibbor_ deliver himself; neither shall he stand that handeth the bow; and he that is swift of foot shall not deliver himself; ... and he that is courageous among the _gibborim_ shall flee away naked in that day, saith Jehovah." "Gunmen" in West Virginia ("_When the Leaves Come Out_") BY A PAINT CREEK MINER (Written during the terrible strike of 1911-12) The hills are very bare and cold and lonely; I wonder what the future months will bring. The strike is on--our strength would win, if only-- O, Buddy, how I'm longing for the spring! They've got us down--their martial lines enfold us; They've thrown us out to feel the winter's sting, And yet, by God, those curs can never hold us, Nor could the dogs of hell do such a thing! It isn't just to see the hills beside me Grow fresh and green with every growing thing; I only want the leaves to come and hide me, To cover up my vengeful wandering. I will not watch the floating clouds that hover Above the birds that warble on the wing; I want to use this GUN from under cover-- O, Buddy, how I'm longing for the spring! You see them there, below, the damned scab-herders! Those puppets on the greedy Owners' String; We'll make them pay for all their dirty murders-- We'll show them how a starveling's hate can sting! They riddled us with volley after volley; We heard their speeding bullets zip and ring, But soon we'll make them suffer for their folly-- O, Buddy, how I'm longing for the spring! FROM ECCLESIASTES Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad. Political Violence (From an Anarchist pamphlet published in London; author unknown)