A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Part 7. Page 3

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE YANKEE AND THE KING SOLD AS SLAVES

  Well, what had I better do? Nothing in a hurry, sure. I mustget up a diversion; anything to employ me while I could think,and while these poor fellows could have a chance to come to lifeagain. There sat Marco, petrified in the act of trying to getthe hang of his miller-gun--turned to stone, just in the attitudehe was in when my pile-driver fell, the toy still gripped in hisunconscious fingers. So I took it from him and proposed to explainits mystery. Mystery! a simple little thing like that; and yet itwas mysterious enough, for that race and that age.

  I never saw such an awkward people, with machinery; you see, theywere totally unused to it. The miller-gun was a little double-barreledtube of toughened glass, with a neat little trick of a springto it, which upon pressure would let a shot escape. But the shotwouldn't hurt anybody, it would only drop into your hand. In thegun were two sizes--wee mustard-seed shot, and another sort thatwere several times larger. They were money. The mustard-seedshot represented milrays, the larger ones mills. So the gun wasa purse; and very handy, too; you could pay out money in the darkwith it, with accuracy; and you could carry it in your mouth; orin your vest pocket, if you had one. I made them of several sizes--one size so large that it would carry the equivalent of a dollar.Using shot for money was a good thing for the government; the metalcost nothing, and the money couldn't be counterfeited, for I wasthe only person in the kingdom who knew how to manage a shot tower."Paying the shot" soon came to be a common phrase. Yes, and I knewit would still be passing men's lips, away down in the nineteenthcentury, yet none would suspect how and when it originated.

  The king joined us, about this time, mightily refreshed by his nap,and feeling good. Anything could make me nervous now, I was souneasy--for our lives were in danger; and so it worried me todetect a complacent something in the king's eye which seemed toindicate that he had been loading himself up for a performanceof some kind or other; confound it, why must he go and choosesuch a time as this?

  I was right. He began, straight off, in the most innocentlyartful, and transparent, and lubberly way, to lead up to thesubject of agriculture. The cold sweat broke out all over me.I wanted to whisper in his ear, "Man, we are in awful danger!every moment is worth a principality till we get back these men'sconfidence; _don't_ waste any of this golden time." But of courseI couldn't do it. Whisper to him? It would look as if we wereconspiring. So I had to sit there and look calm and pleasant whilethe king stood over that dynamite mine and mooned along about hisdamned onions and things. At first the tumult of my own thoughts,summoned by the danger-signal and swarming to the rescue fromevery quarter of my skull, kept up such a hurrah and confusionand fifing and drumming that I couldn't take in a word; butpresently when my mob of gathering plans began to crystallizeand fall into position and form line of battle, a sort of order andquiet ensued and I caught the boom of the king's batteries, as ifout of remote distance:

  "--were not the best way, methinks, albeit it is not to be deniedthat authorities differ as concerning this point, some contendingthat the onion is but an unwholesome berry when stricken earlyfrom the tree--"

  The audience showed signs of life, and sought each other's eyesin a surprised and troubled way.

  "--whileas others do yet maintain, with much show of reason, thatthis is not of necessity the case, instancing that plums and otherlike cereals do be always dug in the unripe state--"

  The audience exhibited distinct distress; yes, and also fear.

  "--yet are they clearly wholesome, the more especially when onedoth assuage the asperities of their nature by admixture of thetranquilizing juice of the wayward cabbage--"

  The wild light of terror began to glow in these men's eyes, andone of them muttered, "These be errors, every one--God hath surelysmitten the mind of this farmer." I was in miserable apprehension;I sat upon thorns.

  "--and further instancing the known truth that in the case ofanimals, the young, which may be called the green fruit of thecreature, is the better, all confessing that when a goat is ripe,his fur doth heat and sore engame his flesh, the which defect,taken in connection with his several rancid habits, and fulsomeappetites, and godless attitudes of mind, and bilious qualityof morals--"

  They rose and went for him! With a fierce shout, "The one wouldbetray us, the other is mad! Kill them! Kill them!" they flungthemselves upon us. What joy flamed up in the king's eye! Hemight be lame in agriculture, but this kind of thing was just inhis line. He had been fasting long, he was hungry for a fight.He hit the blacksmith a crack under the jaw that lifted him clearoff his feet and stretched him flat on his back. "St. George forBritain!" and he downed the wheelwright. The mason was big, butI laid him out like nothing. The three gathered themselves up andcame again; went down again; came again; and kept on repeatingthis, with native British pluck, until they were battered to jelly,reeling with exhaustion, and so blind that they couldn't tell usfrom each other; and yet they kept right on, hammering away withwhat might was left in them. Hammering each other--for we steppedaside and looked on while they rolled, and struggled, and gouged,and pounded, and bit, with the strict and wordless attention tobusiness of so many bulldogs. We looked on without apprehension,for they were fast getting past ability to go for help against us,and the arena was far enough from the public road to be safefrom intrusion.

  Well, while they were gradually playing out, it suddenly occurredto me to wonder what had become of Marco. I looked around; hewas nowhere to be seen. Oh, but this was ominous! I pulled theking's sleeve, and we glided away and rushed for the hut. No Marcothere, no Phyllis there! They had gone to the road for help, sure.I told the king to give his heels wings, and I would explain later.We made good time across the open ground, and as we darted intothe shelter of the wood I glanced back and saw a mob of excitedpeasants swarm into view, with Marco and his wife at their head.They were making a world of noise, but that couldn't hurt anybody;the wood was dense, and as soon as we were well into its depthswe would take to a tree and let them whistle. Ah, but then cameanother sound--dogs! Yes, that was quite another matter. Itmagnified our contract--we must find running water.

  We tore along at a good gait, and soon left the sounds far behindand modified to a murmur. We struck a stream and darted into it.We waded swiftly down it, in the dim forest light, for as muchas three hundred yards, and then came across an oak with a greatbough sticking out over the water. We climbed up on this bough,and began to work our way along it to the body of the tree; nowwe began to hear those sounds more plainly; so the mob had struckour trail. For a while the sounds approached pretty fast. Andthen for another while they didn't. No doubt the dogs had foundthe place where we had entered the stream, and were now waltzingup and down the shores trying to pick up the trail again.

  When we were snugly lodged in the tree and curtained with foliage,the king was satisfied, but I was doubtful. I believed we couldcrawl along a branch and get into the next tree, and I judged itworth while to try. We tried it, and made a success of it, thoughthe king slipped, at the junction, and came near failing to connect.We got comfortable lodgment and satisfactory concealment amongthe foliage, and then we had nothing to do but listen to the hunt.

  Presently we heard it coming--and coming on the jump, too; yes,and down both sides of the stream. Louder--louder--next minuteit swelled swiftly up into a roar of shoutings, barkings, tramplings,and swept by like a cyclone.

  "I was afraid that the overhanging branch would suggest somethingto them," said I, "but I don't mind the disappointment. Come,my liege, it were well that we make good use of our time. We'veflanked them. Dark is coming on, presently. If we can cross thestream and get a good start, and borrow a couple of horses fromsomebody's pasture to use for a few hours, we shall be safe enough."

  We started down, and got nearly to the lowest limb, when we seemedto hear the hunt returning. We stopped to listen.

  "Yes," said I, "they're baffled, they've given it up
, they're ontheir way home. We will climb back to our roost again, and letthem go by."

  So we climbed back. The king listened a moment and said:

  "They still search--I wit the sign. We did best to abide."

  He was right. He knew more about hunting than I did. The noiseapproached steadily, but not with a rush. The king said:

  "They reason that we were advantaged by no parlous start of them,and being on foot are as yet no mighty way from where we tookthe water."

  "Yes, sire, that is about it, I am afraid, though I was hopingbetter things."

  The noise drew nearer and nearer, and soon the van was driftingunder us, on both sides of the water. A voice called a halt fromthe other bank, and said:

  "An they were so minded, they could get to yon tree by this branchthat overhangs, and yet not touch ground. Ye will do well to senda man up it."

  "Marry, that we will do!"

  I was obliged to admire my cuteness in foreseeing this very thingand swapping trees to beat it. But, don't you know, there aresome things that can beat smartness and foresight? Awkwardnessand stupidity can. The best swordsman in the world doesn't needto fear the second best swordsman in the world; no, the personfor him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has neverhad a sword in his hand before; he doesn't do the thing he oughtto do, and so the expert isn't prepared for him; he does the thinghe ought not to do; and often it catches the expert out and endshim on the spot. Well, how could I, with all my gifts, make anyvaluable preparation against a near-sighted, cross-eyed, pudding-headedclown who would aim himself at the wrong tree and hit the rightone? And that is what he did. He went for the wrong tree, whichwas, of course, the right one by mistake, and up he started.

  Matters were serious now. We remained still, and awaited developments.The peasant toiled his difficult way up. The king raised himselfup and stood; he made a leg ready, and when the comer's headarrived in reach of it there was a dull thud, and down went the manfloundering to the ground. There was a wild outbreak of angerbelow, and the mob swarmed in from all around, and there we weretreed, and prisoners. Another man started up; the bridging boughwas detected, and a volunteer started up the tree that furnishedthe bridge. The king ordered me to play Horatius and keep thebridge. For a while the enemy came thick and fast; but no matter,the head man of each procession always got a buffet that dislodgedhim as soon as he came in reach. The king's spirits rose, his joywas limitless. He said that if nothing occurred to mar the prospectwe should have a beautiful night, for on this line of tactics wecould hold the tree against the whole country-side.

  However, the mob soon came to that conclusion themselves; whereforethey called off the assault and began to debate other plans.They had no weapons, but there were plenty of stones, and stonesmight answer. We had no objections. A stone might possiblypenetrate to us once in a while, but it wasn't very likely; we werewell protected by boughs and foliage, and were not visible fromany good aiming point. If they would but waste half an hour instone-throwing, the dark would come to our help. We were feelingvery well satisfied. We could smile; almost laugh.

  But we didn't; which was just as well, for we should have beeninterrupted. Before the stones had been raging through the leavesand bouncing from the boughs fifteen minutes, we began to noticea smell. A couple of sniffs of it was enough of an explanation--it was smoke! Our game was up at last. We recognized that. Whensmoke invites you, you have to come. They raised their pile ofdry brush and damp weeds higher and higher, and when they sawthe thick cloud begin to roll up and smother the tree, they brokeout in a storm of joy-clamors. I got enough breath to say:

  "Proceed, my liege; after you is manners."

  The king gasped:

  "Follow me down, and then back thyself against one side of thetrunk, and leave me the other. Then will we fight. Let each pilehis dead according to his own fashion and taste."

  Then he descended, barking and coughing, and I followed. I struckthe ground an instant after him; we sprang to our appointed places,and began to give and take with all our might. The powwow andracket were prodigious; it was a tempest of riot and confusion andthick-falling blows. Suddenly some horsemen tore into the midstof the crowd, and a voice shouted:

  "Hold--or ye are dead men!"

  How good it sounded! The owner of the voice bore all the marks ofa gentleman: picturesque and costly raiment, the aspect of command,a hard countenance, with complexion and features marred by dissipation.The mob fell humbly back, like so many spaniels. The gentlemaninspected us critically, then said sharply to the peasants:

  "What are ye doing to these people?"

  "They be madmen, worshipful sir, that have come wandering we knownot whence, and--"

  "Ye know not whence? Do ye pretend ye know them not?"

  "Most honored sir, we speak but the truth. They are strangersand unknown to any in this region; and they be the most violentand bloodthirsty madmen that ever--"

  "Peace! Ye know not what ye say. They are not mad. Who are ye?And whence are ye? Explain."

  "We are but peaceful strangers, sir," I said, "and traveling uponour own concerns. We are from a far country, and unacquaintedhere. We have purposed no harm; and yet but for your braveinterference and protection these people would have killed us.As you have divined, sir, we are not mad; neither are we violentor bloodthirsty."

  The gentleman turned to his retinue and said calmly: "Lash methese animals to their kennels!"

  The mob vanished in an instant; and after them plunged the horsemen,laying about them with their whips and pitilessly riding down suchas were witless enough to keep the road instead of taking to thebush. The shrieks and supplications presently died away in thedistance, and soon the horsemen began to straggle back. Meantimethe gentleman had been questioning us more closely, but had dugno particulars out of us. We were lavish of recognition of theservice he was doing us, but we revealed nothing more than that wewere friendless strangers from a far country. When the escort wereall returned, the gentleman said to one of his servants:

  "Bring the led-horses and mount these people."

  "Yes, my lord."

  We were placed toward the rear, among the servants. We traveledpretty fast, and finally drew rein some time after dark at aroadside inn some ten or twelve miles from the scene of ourtroubles. My lord went immediately to his room, after orderinghis supper, and we saw no more of him. At dawn in the morningwe breakfasted and made ready to start.

  My lord's chief attendant sauntered forward at that moment withindolent grace, and said:

  "Ye have said ye should continue upon this road, which is ourdirection likewise; wherefore my lord, the earl Grip, hath givencommandment that ye retain the horses and ride, and that certainof us ride with ye a twenty mile to a fair town that hight Cambenet,whenso ye shall be out of peril."

  We could do nothing less than express our thanks and accept theoffer. We jogged along, six in the party, at a moderate andcomfortable gait, and in conversation learned that my lord Gripwas a very great personage in his own region, which lay a day'sjourney beyond Cambenet. We loitered to such a degree that it wasnear the middle of the forenoon when we entered the market squareof the town. We dismounted, and left our thanks once more formy lord, and then approached a crowd assembled in the center ofthe square, to see what might be the object of interest. It was theremnant of that old peregrinating band of slaves! So they hadbeen dragging their chains about, all this weary time. That poorhusband was gone, and also many others; and some few purchaseshad been added to the gang. The king was not interested, andwanted to move along, but I was absorbed, and full of pity. I couldnot take my eyes away from these worn and wasted wrecks of humanity.There they sat, grounded upon the ground, silent, uncomplaining,with bowed heads, a pathetic sight. And by hideous contrast, aredundant orator was making a speech to another gathering not thirtysteps away, in fulsome laudation of "our glorious British liberties!"

  I was boiling. I had forgotten I was a pl
ebeian, I was rememberingI was a man. Cost what it might, I would mount that rostrum and--

  Click! the king and I were handcuffed together! Our companions,those servants, had done it; my lord Grip stood looking on. Theking burst out in a fury, and said:

  "What meaneth this ill-mannered jest?"

  My lord merely said to his head miscreant, coolly:

  "Put up the slaves and sell them!"

  _Slaves!_ The word had a new sound--and how unspeakably awful! Theking lifted his manacles and brought them down with a deadly force;but my lord was out of the way when they arrived. A dozen ofthe rascal's servants sprang forward, and in a moment we werehelpless, with our hands bound behind us. We so loudly and soearnestly proclaimed ourselves freemen, that we got the interestedattention of that liberty-mouthing orator and his patriotic crowd,and they gathered about us and assumed a very determined attitude.The orator said:

  "If, indeed, ye are freemen, ye have nought to fear--the God-givenliberties of Britain are about ye for your shield and shelter!(Applause.) Ye shall soon see. Bring forth your proofs."

  "What proofs?"

  "Proof that ye are freemen."

  Ah--I remembered! I came to myself; I said nothing. But theking stormed out:

  "Thou'rt insane, man. It were better, and more in reason, thatthis thief and scoundrel here prove that we are _not_ freemen."

  You see, he knew his own laws just as other people so often knowthe laws; by words, not by effects. They take a _meaning_, and getto be very vivid, when you come to apply them to yourself.

  All hands shook their heads and looked disappointed; some turnedaway, no longer interested. The orator said--and this time in thetones of business, not of sentiment:

  "An ye do not know your country's laws, it were time ye learnedthem. Ye are strangers to us; ye will not deny that. Ye may befreemen, we do not deny that; but also ye may be slaves. The lawis clear: it doth not require the claimant to prove ye are slaves,it requireth you to prove ye are not."

  I said:

  "Dear sir, give us only time to send to Astolat; or give us onlytime to send to the Valley of Holiness--"

  "Peace, good man, these are extraordinary requests, and you maynot hope to have them granted. It would cost much time, and wouldunwarrantably inconvenience your master--"

  "_Master_, idiot!" stormed the king. "I have no master, I myselfam the m--"

  "Silence, for God's sake!"

  I got the words out in time to stop the king. We were in troubleenough already; it could not help us any to give these peoplethe notion that we were lunatics.

  There is no use in stringing out the details. The earl put us upand sold us at auction. This same infernal law had existed inour own South in my own time, more than thirteen hundred yearslater, and under it hundreds of freemen who could not prove thatthey were freemen had been sold into lifelong slavery withoutthe circumstance making any particular impression upon me; but theminute law and the auction block came into my personal experience,a thing which had been merely improper before became suddenlyhellish. Well, that's the way we are made.

  Yes, we were sold at auction, like swine. In a big town and anactive market we should have brought a good price; but this placewas utterly stagnant and so we sold at a figure which makes meashamed, every time I think of it. The King of England broughtseven dollars, and his prime minister nine; whereas the king waseasily worth twelve dollars and I as easily worth fifteen. Butthat is the way things always go; if you force a sale on a dullmarket, I don't care what the property is, you are going to makea poor business of it, and you can make up your mind to it. Ifthe earl had had wit enough to--

  However, there is no occasion for my working my sympathies upon his account. Let him go, for the present; I took his number,so to speak.

  The slave-dealer bought us both, and hitched us onto that longchain of his, and we constituted the rear of his procession. Wetook up our line of march and passed out of Cambenet at noon;and it seemed to me unaccountably strange and odd that the Kingof England and his chief minister, marching manacled and fetteredand yoked, in a slave convoy, could move by all manner of idle menand women, and under windows where sat the sweet and the lovely,and yet never attract a curious eye, never provoke a single remark.Dear, dear, it only shows that there is nothing diviner about a kingthan there is about a tramp, after all. He is just a cheap andhollow artificiality when you don't know he is a king. But revealhis quality, and dear me it takes your very breath away to lookat him. I reckon we are all fools. Born so, no doubt.