A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Part 9. Read online

  CHAPTER XLIII

  THE BATTLE OF THE SAND BELT

  In Merlin's Cave-- Clarence and I and fifty-two fresh, bright,well-educated, clean-minded young British boys. At dawn I sentan order to the factories and to all our great works to stopoperations and remove all life to a safe distance, as everythingwas going to be blown up by secret mines, "_and no telling at whatmoment--therefore, vacate at once_." These people knew me, andhad confidence in my word. They would clear out without waitingto part their hair, and I could take my own time about dating theexplosion. You couldn't hire one of them to go back during thecentury, if the explosion was still impending.

  We had a week of waiting. It was not dull for me, because I waswriting all the time. During the first three days, I finishedturning my old diary into this narrative form; it only requireda chapter or so to bring it down to date. The rest of the weekI took up in writing letters to my wife. It was always my habitto write to Sandy every day, whenever we were separate, and nowI kept up the habit for love of it, and of her, though I couldn'tdo anything with the letters, of course, after I had written them.But it put in the time, you see, and was almost like talking;it was almost as if I was saying, "Sandy, if you and Hello-Centralwere here in the cave, instead of only your photographs, whatgood times we could have!" And then, you know, I could imaginethe baby goo-gooing something out in reply, with its fists in itsmouth and itself stretched across its mother's lap on its back,and she a-laughing and admiring and worshipping, and now and thentickling under the baby's chin to set it cackling, and then maybethrowing in a word of answer to me herself--and so on and so on--well, don't you know, I could sit there in the cave with my pen,and keep it up, that way, by the hour with them. Why, it wasalmost like having us all together again.

  I had spies out every night, of course, to get news. Every reportmade things look more and more impressive. The hosts were gathering,gathering; down all the roads and paths of England the knights wereriding, and priests rode with them, to hearten these originalCrusaders, this being the Church's war. All the nobilities, bigand little, were on their way, and all the gentry. This was allas was expected. We should thin out this sort of folk to sucha degree that the people would have nothing to do but just stepto the front with their republic and--

  Ah, what a donkey I was! Toward the end of the week I began to getthis large and disenchanting fact through my head: that the massof the nation had swung their caps and shouted for the republic forabout one day, and there an end! The Church, the nobles, andthe gentry then turned one grand, all-disapproving frown upon themand shriveled them into sheep! From that moment the sheep hadbegun to gather to the fold--that is to say, the camps--and offertheir valueless lives and their valuable wool to the "righteouscause." Why, even the very men who had lately been slaves werein the "righteous cause," and glorifying it, praying for it,sentimentally slabbering over it, just like all the other commoners.Imagine such human muck as this; conceive of this folly!

  Yes, it was now "Death to the Republic!" everywhere--not a dissentingvoice. All England was marching against us! Truly, this was morethan I had bargained for.

  I watched my fifty-two boys narrowly; watched their faces, theirwalk, their unconscious attitudes: for all these are a language--a language given us purposely that it may betray us in times ofemergency, when we have secrets which we want to keep. I knewthat that thought would keep saying itself over and over againin their minds and hearts, _All England is marching against us!_and ever more strenuously imploring attention with each repetition,ever more sharply realizing itself to their imaginations, untileven in their sleep they would find no rest from it, but hearthe vague and flitting creatures of the dreams say, _All England_--ALL ENGLAND!--_is marching against you_! I knew all this wouldhappen; I knew that ultimately the pressure would become so greatthat it would compel utterance; therefore, I must be ready with ananswer at that time--an answer well chosen and tranquilizing.

  I was right. The time came. They HAD to speak. Poor lads, itwas pitiful to see, they were so pale, so worn, so troubled. Atfirst their spokesman could hardly find voice or words; but hepresently got both. This is what he said--and he put it in theneat modern English taught him in my schools:

  "We have tried to forget what we are--English boys! We have triedto put reason before sentiment, duty before love; our mindsapprove, but our hearts reproach us. While apparently it wasonly the nobility, only the gentry, only the twenty-five or thirtythousand knights left alive out of the late wars, we were of onemind, and undisturbed by any troubling doubt; each and every oneof these fifty-two lads who stand here before you, said, 'Theyhave chosen--it is their affair.' But think!--the matter isaltered--_All England is marching against us_! Oh, sir, consider!--reflect!--these people are our people, they are bone of our bone,flesh of our flesh, we love them--do not ask us to destroy our nation!"

  Well, it shows the value of looking ahead, and being ready fora thing when it happens. If I hadn't foreseen this thing and beenfixed, that boy would have had me!--I couldn't have said a word.But I was fixed. I said:

  "My boys, your hearts are in the right place, you have thought theworthy thought, you have done the worthy thing. You are Englishboys, you will remain English boys, and you will keep that nameunsmirched. Give yourselves no further concern, let your minds beat peace. Consider this: while all England is marching againstus, who is in the van? Who, by the commonest rules of war, willmarch in the front? Answer me."

  "The mounted host of mailed knights."

  "True. They are thirty thousand strong. Acres deep they will march.Now, observe: none but _they_ will ever strike the sand-belt! Thenthere will be an episode! Immediately after, the civilian multitudein the rear will retire, to meet business engagements elsewhere.None but nobles and gentry are knights, and _none but these_ willremain to dance to our music after that episode. It is absolutelytrue that we shall have to fight nobody but these thirty thousandknights. Now speak, and it shall be as you decide. Shall weavoid the battle, retire from the field?"

  "NO!!!"

  The shout was unanimous and hearty.

  "Are you--are you--well, afraid of these thirty thousand knights?"

  That joke brought out a good laugh, the boys' troubles vanishedaway, and they went gaily to their posts. Ah, they were a darlingfifty-two! As pretty as girls, too.

  I was ready for the enemy now. Let the approaching big day comealong--it would find us on deck.

  The big day arrived on time. At dawn the sentry on watch in thecorral came into the cave and reported a moving black mass underthe horizon, and a faint sound which he thought to be militarymusic. Breakfast was just ready; we sat down and ate it.

  This over, I made the boys a little speech, and then sent outa detail to man the battery, with Clarence in command of it.

  The sun rose presently and sent its unobstructed splendors overthe land, and we saw a prodigious host moving slowly toward us,with the steady drift and aligned front of a wave of the sea.Nearer and nearer it came, and more and more sublimely imposingbecame its aspect; yes, all England was there, apparently. Soonwe could see the innumerable banners fluttering, and then the sunstruck the sea of armor and set it all aflash. Yes, it was a finesight; I hadn't ever seen anything to beat it.

  At last we could make out details. All the front ranks, no tellinghow many acres deep, were horsemen--plumed knights in armor.Suddenly we heard the blare of trumpets; the slow walk burst intoa gallop, and then--well, it was wonderful to see! Down sweptthat vast horse-shoe wave--it approached the sand-belt--my breathstood still; nearer, nearer--the strip of green turf beyond theyellow belt grew narrow--narrower still--became a mere ribbon infront of the horses--then disappeared under their hoofs. GreatScott! Why, the whole front of that host shot into the sky witha thunder-crash, and became a whirling tempest of rags and fragments;and along the ground lay a thick wall of smoke that hid what wasleft of the multitude from our sight.

  Time for the second step in the p
lan of campaign! I toucheda button, and shook the bones of England loose from her spine!

  In that explosion all our noble civilization-factories went up inthe air and disappeared from the earth. It was a pity, but itwas necessary. We could not afford to let the enemy turn our ownweapons against us.

  Now ensued one of the dullest quarter-hours I had ever endured.We waited in a silent solitude enclosed by our circles of wire,and by a circle of heavy smoke outside of these. We couldn'tsee over the wall of smoke, and we couldn't see through it. Butat last it began to shred away lazily, and by the end of anotherquarter-hour the land was clear and our curiosity was enabledto satisfy itself. No living creature was in sight! We nowperceived that additions had been made to our defenses. Thedynamite had dug a ditch more than a hundred feet wide, all aroundus, and cast up an embankment some twenty-five feet high on bothborders of it. As to destruction of life, it was amazing. Moreover,it was beyond estimate. Of course, we could not _count_ the dead,because they did not exist as individuals, but merely as homogeneousprotoplasm, with alloys of iron and buttons.

  No life was in sight, but necessarily there must have been somewounded in the rear ranks, who were carried off the field undercover of the wall of smoke; there would be sickness among theothers--there always is, after an episode like that. But therewould be no reinforcements; this was the last stand of the chivalryof England; it was all that was left of the order, after the recentannihilating wars. So I felt quite safe in believing that theutmost force that could for the future be brought against uswould be but small; that is, of knights. I therefore issued acongratulatory proclamation to my army in these words:

  SOLDIERS, CHAMPIONS OF HUMAN LIBERTY AND EQUALITY: Your General congratulates you! In the pride of his strength and the vanity of his renown, an arrogant enemy came against you. You were ready. The conflict was brief; on your side, glorious. This mighty victory, having been achieved utterly without loss, stands without example in history. So long as the planets shall continue to move in their orbits, the BATTLE OF THE SAND-BELT will not perish out of the memories of men.

  THE BOSS.

  I read it well, and the applause I got was very gratifying to me.I then wound up with these remarks:

  "The war with the English nation, as a nation, is at an end.The nation has retired from the field and the war. Before it canbe persuaded to return, war will have ceased. This campaign isthe only one that is going to be fought. It will be brief--the briefest in history. Also the most destructive to life,considered from the standpoint of proportion of casualties tonumbers engaged. We are done with the nation; henceforth we dealonly with the knights. English knights can be killed, but theycannot be conquered. We know what is before us. While one ofthese men remains alive, our task is not finished, the war is notended. We will kill them all." [Loud and long continued applause.]

  I picketed the great embankments thrown up around our lines bythe dynamite explosion--merely a lookout of a couple of boysto announce the enemy when he should appear again.

  Next, I sent an engineer and forty men to a point just beyondour lines on the south, to turn a mountain brook that was there,and bring it within our lines and under our command, arrangingit in such a way that I could make instant use of it in an emergency.The forty men were divided into two shifts of twenty each, andwere to relieve each other every two hours. In ten hours thework was accomplished.

  It was nightfall now, and I withdrew my pickets. The one whohad had the northern outlook reported a camp in sight, but visiblewith the glass only. He also reported that a few knights had beenfeeling their way toward us, and had driven some cattle across ourlines, but that the knights themselves had not come very near.That was what I had been expecting. They were feeling us, yousee; they wanted to know if we were going to play that red terroron them again. They would grow bolder in the night, perhaps.I believed I knew what project they would attempt, because it wasplainly the thing I would attempt myself if I were in their placesand as ignorant as they were. I mentioned it to Clarence.

  "I think you are right," said he; "it is the obvious thing forthem to try."

  "Well, then," I said, "if they do it they are doomed."

  "Certainly."

  "They won't have the slightest show in the world."

  "Of course they won't."

  "It's dreadful, Clarence. It seems an awful pity."

  The thing disturbed me so that I couldn't get any peace of mindfor thinking of it and worrying over it. So, at last, to quietmy conscience, I framed this message to the knights:

  TO THE HONORABLE THE COMMANDER OF THE INSURGENT CHIVALRY OF ENGLAND: YOU fight in vain. We know your strength--if one may call it by that name. We know that at the utmost you cannot bring against us above five and twenty thousand knights. Therefore, you have no chance--none whatever. Reflect: we are well equipped, well fortified, we number 54. Fifty-four what? Men? No, MINDS--the capablest in the world; a force against which mere animal might may no more hope to prevail than may the idle waves of the sea hope to prevail against the granite barriers of England. Be advised. We offer you your lives; for the sake of your families, do not reject the gift. We offer you this chance, and it is the last: throw down your arms; surrender unconditionally to the Republic, and all will be forgiven.

  (Signed) THE BOSS.

  I read it to Clarence, and said I proposed to send it by a flagof truce. He laughed the sarcastic laugh he was born with, and said:

  "Somehow it seems impossible for you to ever fully realize whatthese nobilities are. Now let us save a little time and trouble.Consider me the commander of the knights yonder. Now, then,you are the flag of truce; approach and deliver me your message,and I will give you your answer."

  I humored the idea. I came forward under an imaginary guard ofthe enemy's soldiers, produced my paper, and read it through.For answer, Clarence struck the paper out of my hand, pursed upa scornful lip and said with lofty disdain:

  "Dismember me this animal, and return him in a basket to thebase-born knave who sent him; other answer have I none!"

  How empty is theory in presence of fact! And this was just fact,and nothing else. It was the thing that would have happened,there was no getting around that. I tore up the paper and grantedmy mistimed sentimentalities a permanent rest.

  Then, to business. I tested the electric signals from the gatlingplatform to the cave, and made sure that they were all right;I tested and retested those which commanded the fences--thesewere signals whereby I could break and renew the electric currentin each fence independently of the others at will. I placed thebrook-connection under the guard and authority of three of mybest boys, who would alternate in two-hour watches all night andpromptly obey my signal, if I should have occasion to give it--three revolver-shots in quick succession. Sentry-duty was discardedfor the night, and the corral left empty of life; I ordered thatquiet be maintained in the cave, and the electric lights turneddown to a glimmer.

  As soon as it was good and dark, I shut off the current from allthe fences, and then groped my way out to the embankment borderingour side of the great dynamite ditch. I crept to the top of itand lay there on the slant of the muck to watch. But it wastoo dark to see anything. As for sounds, there were none. Thestillness was deathlike. True, there were the usual night-soundsof the country--the whir of night-birds, the buzzing of insects,the barking of distant dogs, the mellow lowing of far-off kine--but these didn't seem to break the stillness, they only intensifiedit, and added a grewsome melancholy to it into the bargain.

  I presently gave up looking, the night shut down so black, butI kept my ears strained to catch the least suspicious sound, forI judged I had only to wait, and I shouldn't be disappointed.However, I had to wait a long time. At last I caught what youmay call in distinct glimpses of sound dulled metallic sound.I pricked up my ears, then, and held my breath, for this was thesort of t
hing I had been waiting for. This sound thickened, andapproached--from toward the north. Presently, I heard it at myown level--the ridge-top of the opposite embankment, a hundredfeet or more away. Then I seemed to see a row of black dots appearalong that ridge--human heads? I couldn't tell; it mightn't beanything at all; you can't depend on your eyes when your imaginationis out of focus. However, the question was soon settled. I heardthat metallic noise descending into the great ditch. It augmentedfast, it spread all along, and it unmistakably furnished me thisfact: an armed host was taking up its quarters in the ditch. Yes,these people were arranging a little surprise party for us. Wecould expect entertainment about dawn, possibly earlier.

  I groped my way back to the corral now; I had seen enough. I wentto the platform and signaled to turn the current on to the twoinner fences. Then I went into the cave, and found everythingsatisfactory there--nobody awake but the working-watch. I wokeClarence and told him the great ditch was filling up with men,and that I believed all the knights were coming for us in a body.It was my notion that as soon as dawn approached we could expectthe ditch's ambuscaded thousands to swarm up over the embankmentand make an assault, and be followed immediately by the restof their army.

  Clarence said:

  "They will be wanting to send a scout or two in the dark to makepreliminary observations. Why not take the lightning off theouter fences, and give them a chance?"

  "I've already done it, Clarence. Did you ever know me to beinhospitable?"

  "No, you are a good heart. I want to go and--"

  "Be a reception committee? I will go, too."

  We crossed the corral and lay down together between the two insidefences. Even the dim light of the cave had disordered our eyesightsomewhat, but the focus straightway began to regulate itself andsoon it was adjusted for present circumstances. We had had to feelour way before, but we could make out to see the fence posts now.We started a whispered conversation, but suddenly Clarence brokeoff and said:

  "What is that?"

  "What is what?"

  "That thing yonder."

  "What thing--where?"

  "There beyond you a little piece--dark something--a dull shapeof some kind--against the second fence."

  I gazed and he gazed. I said:

  "Could it be a man, Clarence?"

  "No, I think not. If you notice, it looks a lit--why, it _is_a man!--leaning on the fence."

  "I certainly believe it is; let us go and see."

  We crept along on our hands and knees until we were pretty close,and then looked up. Yes, it was a man--a dim great figure in armor,standing erect, with both hands on the upper wire--and, of course,there was a smell of burning flesh. Poor fellow, dead as adoor-nail, and never knew what hurt him. He stood there like astatue--no motion about him, except that his plumes swished abouta little in the night wind. We rose up and looked in throughthe bars of his visor, but couldn't make out whether we knew himor not--features too dim and shadowed.

  We heard muffled sounds approaching, and we sank down to the groundwhere we were. We made out another knight vaguely; he was comingvery stealthily, and feeling his way. He was near enough now forus to see him put out a hand, find an upper wire, then bend andstep under it and over the lower one. Now he arrived at thefirst knight--and started slightly when he discovered him. Hestood a moment--no doubt wondering why the other one didn't moveon; then he said, in a low voice, "Why dreamest thou here, goodSir Mar--" then he laid his hand on the corpse's shoulder--and justuttered a little soft moan and sunk down dead. Killed by a deadman, you see--killed by a dead friend, in fact. There was somethingawful about it.

  These early birds came scattering along after each other, aboutone every five minutes in our vicinity, during half an hour.They brought no armor of offense but their swords; as a rule,they carried the sword ready in the hand, and put it forward andfound the wires with it. We would now and then see a blue sparkwhen the knight that caused it was so far away as to be invisibleto us; but we knew what had happened, all the same; poor fellow,he had touched a charged wire with his sword and been elected.We had brief intervals of grim stillness, interrupted with piteousregularity by the clash made by the falling of an iron-clad; andthis sort of thing was going on, right along, and was very creepythere in the dark and lonesomeness.

  We concluded to make a tour between the inner fences. We electedto walk upright, for convenience's sake; we argued that if discerned,we should be taken for friends rather than enemies, and in any casewe should be out of reach of swords, and these gentry did not seemto have any spears along. Well, it was a curious trip. Everywheredead men were lying outside the second fence--not plainly visible,but still visible; and we counted fifteen of those patheticstatues--dead knights standing with their hands on the upper wire.

  One thing seemed to be sufficiently demonstrated: our currentwas so tremendous that it killed before the victim could cry out.Pretty soon we detected a muffled and heavy sound, and next momentwe guessed what it was. It was a surprise in force coming! whisperedClarence to go and wake the army, and notify it to wait in silencein the cave for further orders. He was soon back, and we stoodby the inner fence and watched the silent lightning do its awfulwork upon that swarming host. One could make out but little ofdetail; but he could note that a black mass was piling itself upbeyond the second fence. That swelling bulk was dead men! Ourcamp was enclosed with a solid wall of the dead--a bulwark,a breastwork, of corpses, you may say. One terrible thing aboutthis thing was the absence of human voices; there were no cheers,no war cries; being intent upon a surprise, these men moved asnoiselessly as they could; and always when the front rank was nearenough to their goal to make it proper for them to begin to geta shout ready, of course they struck the fatal line and went downwithout testifying.

  I sent a current through the third fence now; and almost immediatelythrough the fourth and fifth, so quickly were the gaps filled up.I believed the time was come now for my climax; I believed thatthat whole army was in our trap. Anyway, it was high time to findout. So I touched a button and set fifty electric suns aflameon the top of our precipice.

  Land, what a sight! We were enclosed in three walls of dead men!All the other fences were pretty nearly filled with the living,who were stealthily working their way forward through the wires.The sudden glare paralyzed this host, petrified them, you may say,with astonishment; there was just one instant for me to utilizetheir immobility in, and I didn't lose the chance. You see, inanother instant they would have recovered their faculties, thenthey'd have burst into a cheer and made a rush, and my wireswould have gone down before it; but that lost instant lost themtheir opportunity forever; while even that slight fragment of timewas still unspent, I shot the current through all the fences andstruck the whole host dead in their tracks! _There_ was a groanyou could _hear_! It voiced the death-pang of eleven thousand men.It swelled out on the night with awful pathos.

  A glance showed that the rest of the enemy--perhaps ten thousandstrong--were between us and the encircling ditch, and pressingforward to the assault. Consequently we had them _all!_ and hadthem past help. Time for the last act of the tragedy. I firedthe three appointed revolver shots--which meant:

  "Turn on the water!"

  There was a sudden rush and roar, and in a minute the mountainbrook was raging through the big ditch and creating a river ahundred feet wide and twenty-five deep.

  "Stand to your guns, men! Open fire!"

  The thirteen gatlings began to vomit death into the fated tenthousand. They halted, they stood their ground a moment againstthat withering deluge of fire, then they broke, faced about andswept toward the ditch like chaff before a gale. A full fourthpart of their force never reached the top of the lofty embankment;the three-fourths reached it and plunged over--to death by drowning.

  Within ten short minutes after we had opened fire, armed resistancewas totally annihilated, the campaign was ended, we fifty-four weremasters of England. Twenty-five thousand men lay dead
around us.

  But how treacherous is fortune! In a little while--say an hour--happened a thing, by my own fault, which--but I have no heartto write that. Let the record end here.