Produced by David Widger
A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR'S COURT
by
MARK TWAIN
(Samuel L. Clemens)
Part 9.
CHAPTER XLI
THE INTERDICT
However, my attention was suddenly snatched from such matters;
our child began to lose ground again, and we had to go to sitting
up with her, her case became so serious. We couldn't bear to allow
anybody to help in this service, so we two stood watch-and-watch,
day in and day out. Ah, Sandy, what a right heart she had, how
simple, and genuine, and good she was! She was a flawless wife
and mother; and yet I had married her for no other particular
reasons, except that by the customs of chivalry she was my property
until some knight should win her from me in the field. She had
hunted Britain over for me; had found me at the hanging-bout
outside of London, and had straightway resumed her old place at
my side in the placidest way and as of right. I was a New Englander,
and in my opinion this sort of partnership would compromise her,
sooner or later. She couldn't see how, but I cut argument short
and we had a wedding.
Now I didn't know I was drawing a prize, yet that was what I did
draw. Within the twelvemonth I became her worshiper; and ours
was the dearest and perfectest comradeship that ever was. People
talk about beautiful friendships between two persons of the same
sex. What is the best of that sort, as compared with the friendship
of man and wife, where the best impulses and highest ideals of
both are the same? There is no place for comparison between
the two friendships; the one is earthly, the other divine.
In my dreams, along at first, I still wandered thirteen centuries
away, and my unsatisfied spirit went calling and harking all up
and down the unreplying vacancies of a vanished world. Many a
time Sandy heard that imploring cry come from my lips in my sleep.
With a grand magnanimity she saddled that cry of mine upon our
child, conceiving it to be the name of some lost darling of mine.
It touched me to tears, and it also nearly knocked me off my feet,
too, when she smiled up in my face for an earned reward, and played
her quaint and pretty surprise upon me:
"The name of one who was dear to thee is here preserved, here made
holy, and the music of it will abide alway in our ears. Now
thou'lt kiss me, as knowing the name I have given the child."
But I didn't know it, all the same. I hadn't an idea in the
world; but it would have been cruel to confess it and spoil her
pretty game; so I never let on, but said:
"Yes, I know, sweetheart - how dear and good it is of you, too!
But I want to hear these lips of yours, which are also mine, utter
it first - then its music will be perfect."
Pleased to the marrow, she murmured:
"HELLO-CENTRAL!"
I didn't laugh - I am always thankful for that - but the strain
ruptured every cartilage in me, and for weeks afterward I could
hear my bones clack when I walked. She never found out her mistake.
The first time she heard that form of salute used at the telephone
she was surprised, and not pleased; but I told her I had given
order for it: that henceforth and forever the telephone must
always be invoked with that reverent formality, in perpetual honor
and remembrance of my lost friend and her small namesake. This
was not true. But it answered.
Well, during two weeks and a half we watched by the crib, and in
our deep solicitude we were unconscious of any world outside of
that sick-room. Then our reward came: the center of the universe
turned the corner and began to mend. Grateful? It isn't the term.
There _isn't_ any term for it. You know that yourself, if you've
watched your child through the Valley of the Shadow and seen it
come back to life and sweep night out of the earth with one
all-illuminating smile that you could cover with your hand.
Why, we were back in this world in one instant! Then we looked
the same startled thought into each other's eyes at the same
moment; more than two weeks gone, and that ship not back yet!
In another minute I appeared in the presence of my train. They
had been steeped in troubled bodings all this time - their faces
showed it. I called an escort and we galloped five miles to a
hilltop overlooking the sea. Where was my great commerce that
so lately had made these glistening expanses populous and beautiful
with its white-winged flocks? Vanished, every one! Not a sail,
from verge to verge, not a smoke-bank - just a dead and empty
solitude, in place of all that brisk and breezy life.
I went swiftly back, saying not a word to anybody. I told Sandy
this ghastly news. We could imagine no explanation that would
begin to explain. Had there been an invasion? an earthquake?
a pestilence? Had the nation been swept out of existence? But
guessing was profitless. I must go - at once. I borrowed the king's
navy - a "ship" no bigger than a steam launch - and was soon ready.
The parting - ah, yes, that was hard. As I was devouring the child
with last kisses, it brisked up and jabbered out its vocabulary!
- the first time in more than two weeks, and it made fools of us
for joy. The darling mispronunciations of childhood! - dear me,
there's no music that can touch it; and how one grieves when it
wastes away and dissolves into correctness, knowing it will never
visit his bereaved ear again. Well, how good it was to be able
to carry that gracious memory away with me!
I approached England the next morning, with the wide highway of
salt water all to myself. There were ships in the harbor, at
Dover, but they were naked as to sails, and there was no sign
of life about them. It was Sunday; yet at Canterbury the streets
were empty; strangest of all, there was not even a priest in sight,
and no stroke of a bell fell upon my ear. The mournfulness of
death was everywhere. I couldn't understand it. At last, in
the further edge of that town I saw a small funeral procession
- just a family and a few friends following a coffin - no priest;
a funeral without bell, book, or candle; there was a church there
close at hand, but they passed it by weeping, and did not enter it;
I glanced up at the belfry, and there hung the bell, shrouded in
black, and its tongue tied back. Now I knew! Now I understood
the stupendous calamity that had overtaken England. Invasion?
Invasion is a triviality to it. It was the INTERDICT!
I asked no questions; I didn't need to ask any. The Church had
struck; the thing for me to do was to get into a disguise, and
go warily. One of my servants gave me a suit of clothes, and
when we were safe beyond the town I put them on, and from that time
I traveled alone; I could not risk the embarrassment of company.
A miserable journey. A desolate silence everywhere. Even in
London itself. Traffic had ceased; men did not talk or laugh, or
go in groups, or even in couples; they moved aimlessly about, each
man by himself, with his head down, and woe and terror at his heart.
The Tower showed recent war-scars. Verily, much had been happening.
Of course, I meant to take the train for Camelot. Train! Why,
the station was as vacant as a cavern. I moved on. The journey
to Camelot was a repetition of what I had already seen. The Monday
and the Tuesday differed in no way from the Sunday. I arrived
far in the night. From being the best electric-lighted town in
the kingdom and the most like a recumbent sun of anything you ever
saw, it was become simply a blot - a blot upon darkness - that is
to say, it was darker and solider than the rest of the darkness,
and so you could see it a little better; it made me feel as if
maybe it was symbolical - a sort of sign that the Church was going to
_keep_ the upper hand now, and snuff out all my beautiful civilization
just like that. I found no life stirring in the somber streets.
I groped my way with a heavy heart. The vast castle loomed black
upon the hilltop, not a spark visible about it. The drawbridge
was down, the great gate stood wide, I entered without challenge,
my own heels making the only sound I heard - and it was sepulchral
enough, in those huge vacant courts.
CHAPTER XLII
WAR!
I found Clarence alone in his quarters, drowned in melancholy;
and in place of the electric light, he had reinstituted the ancient
rag-lamp, and sat there in a grisly twilight with all curtains
drawn tight. He sprang up and rushed for me eagerly, saying:
"Oh, it's worth a billion milrays to look upon a live person again!"
He knew me as easily as if I hadn't been disguised at all. Which
frightened me; one may easily believe that.
"Quick, now, tell me the meaning of this fearful disaster," I said.
"How did it come about?"
"Well, if there hadn't been any Queen Guenever, it wouldn't have
come so early; but it would have come, anyway. It would have
come on your own account by and by; by luck, it happened to come
on the queen's."
"_And_ Sir Launcelot's?"
"Just so."
"Give me the details."
"I reckon you will grant that during some years there has been
only one pair of eyes in these kingdoms that has not been looking
steadily askance at the queen and Sir Launcelot - "
"Yes, King Arthur's."
" - and only one heart that was without suspicion - "
"Yes - the king's; a heart that isn't capable of thinking evil
of a friend."
"Well, the king might have gone on, still happy and unsuspecting,
to the end of his days, but for one of your modern improvements
- the stock-board. When you left, three miles of the London,
Canterbury and Dover were ready for the rails, and also ready and
ripe for manipulation in the stock-market. It was wildcat, and
everybody knew it. The stock was for sale at a give-away. What
does Sir Launcelot do, but - "
"Yes, I know; he quietly picked up nearly all of it for a song;
then he bought about twice as much more, deliverable upon call;
and he was about to call when I left."
"Very well, he did call. The boys couldn't deliver. Oh, he had
them - and he just settled his grip and squeezed them. They were
laughing in their sleeves over their smartness in selling stock
to him at 15 and 16 and along there that wasn't worth 10. Well,
when they had laughed long enough on that side of their mouths,
they rested-up that side by shifting the laugh to the other side.
That was when they compromised with the Invincible at 283!"
"Good land!"
"He skinned them alive, and they deserved it - anyway, the whole
kingdom rejoiced. Well, among the flayed were Sir Agravaine and
Sir Mordred, nephews to the king. End of the first act. Act
second, scene first, an apartment in Carlisle castle, where the
court had gone for a few days' hunting. Persons present, the
whole tribe of the king's nephews. Mordred and Agravaine propose
to call the guileless Arthur's attention to Guenever and Sir
Launcelot. Sir Gawaine, Sir Gareth, and Sir Gaheris will have
nothing to do with it. A dispute ensues, with loud talk; in the
midst of it enter the king. Mordred and Agravaine spring their
devastating tale upon him. _Tableau_. A trap is laid for Launcelot,
by the king's command, and Sir Launcelot walks into it. He made
it sufficiently uncomfortable for the ambushed witnesses - to wit,
Mordred, Agravaine, and twelve knights of lesser rank, for he
killed every one of them but Mordred; but of course that couldn't
straighten matters between Launcelot and the king, and didn't."
"Oh, dear, only one thing could result - I see that. War, and
the knights of the realm divided into a king's party and a
Sir Launcelot's party."
"Yes - that was the way of it. The king sent the queen to the
stake, proposing to purify her with fire. Launcelot and his
knights rescued her, and in doing it slew certain good old friends
of yours and mine - in fact, some of the best we ever had; to wit,
Sir Belias le Orgulous, Sir Segwarides, Sir Griflet le Fils de Dieu,
Sir Brandiles, Sir Aglovale - "
"Oh, you tear out my heartstrings."
" - wait, I'm not done yet - Sir Tor, Sir Gauter, Sir Gillimer - "
"The very best man in my subordinate nine. What a handy right-fielder
he was!"
" - Sir Reynold's three brothers, Sir Damus, Sir Priamus, Sir Kay
the Stranger - "
"My peerless short-stop! I've seen him catch a daisy-cutter in
his teeth. Come, I can't stand this!"
" - Sir Driant, Sir Lambegus, Sir Herminde, Sir Pertilope,
Sir Perimones, and - whom do you think?"
"Rush! Go on."
"Sir Gaheris, and Sir Gareth - both!"
"Oh, incredible! Their love for Launcelot was indestructible."
"Well, it was an accident. They were simply onlookers; they were
unarmed, and were merely there to witness the queen's punishment.
Sir Launcelot smote down whoever came in the way of his blind fury,
and he killed these without noticing who they were. Here is an
instantaneous photograph one of our boys got of the battle; it's
for sale on every news-stand. There - the figures nearest the queen
are Sir Launcelot with his sword up, and Sir Gareth gasping his
latest breath. You can catch the agony in the queen's face through
the curling smoke. It's a rattling battle-picture."
"Indeed, it is. We must take good care of it; its historical value
is incalculable. Go on."
"Well, the rest of the tale is just war, pure and simple. Launcelot
retreated to his town and castle of Joyous Gard, and gathered
there a great following of knights. The king, with a great host,
went there, and there was desperate fighting during several days,
and, as a result, all the plain around was paved with corpses
and cast-iron. Then the Church patched up a peace between Arthur
and Launcelot and the queen and everybody - everybody but Sir Gawaine.
He was bitter about the slaying of his brothers, Gareth and Gaheris,
and would not be appeased. He notified Launcelot to get him
thence, and make swift preparation, and look to be soon attacked.
So Launcelot sailed to his Duchy of Guienne with his following, and
Gawaine soon followed with an army, and he beguiled Arthur to go
with him. Arthur left the kingdom in Sir Mordred's hands until
you should return - "
"Ah - a king's customary wisdom!"
"Yes. Sir Mordred set himself at once to work to make his kingship
permanent. He was going to marry Guenever, as a first move; but
she fled and shut herself up in the Tower of London. Mordred
attacked; the Bishop of Canterbury dropped down on him with the
Interdict. The king returned; Mordred fought him at Dover, at
Canterbury, and again at Barham Down. Then there was talk of peace
and a composition. Terms, Mordred to have Cornwall and Kent during
Arthur's life, and the whole kingdom afterward."
"Well, upon my word! My dream of a republic to _be_ a dream, and
so remain."
"Yes. The two armies lay near Salisbury. Gawaine - Gawaine's head
is at Dover Castle, he fell in the fight there - Gawaine appeared to
Arthur in a dream, at least his ghost did, and warned him to
refrain from conflict for a month, let the delay cost what it might.
But battle was precipitated by an accident. Arthur had given
order that if a sword was raised during the consultation over
the proposed treaty with Mordred, sound the trumpet and fall on!
for he had no confidence in Mordred. Mordred had given a similar
order to _his_ people. Well, by and by an adder bit a knight's heel;
the knight forgot all about the order, and made a slash at the
adder with his sword. Inside of half a minute those two prodigious
hosts came together with a crash! They butchered away all day.
Then the king - however, we have started something fresh since
you left - our paper has."
"No? What is that?"
"War correspondence!"
"Why, that's good."
"Yes, the paper was booming right along, for the Interdict made
no impression, got no grip, while the war lasted. I had war
correspondents with both armies. I will finish that battle by
reading you what one of the boys says:
'Then the king looked about him, and then was he
ware of all his host and of all his good knights
were left no more on live but two knights, that
was Sir Lucan de Butlere, and his brother Sir
Bedivere: and they were full sore wounded. Jesu
mercy, said the king, where are all my noble
knights becomen? Alas that ever I should see this
doleful day. For now, said Arthur, I am come to
mine end. But would to God that I wist where were
that traitor Sir Mordred, that hath caused all
this mischief. Then was King Arthur ware where Sir
Mordred leaned upon his sword among a great heap
of dead men. Now give me my spear, said Arthur
unto Sir Lucan, for yonder I have espied the
traitor that all this woe hath wrought. Sir, let
him be, said Sir Lucan, for he is unhappy; and if
ye pass this unhappy day, ye shall be right well
revenged upon him. Good lord, remember ye of your
night's dream, and what the spirit of Sir Gawaine
told you this night, yet God of his great goodness
hath preserved you hitherto. Therefore, for God's
sake, my lord, leave off by this. For blessed be
God ye have won the field: for here we be three
on live, and with Sir Mordred is none on live.
And if ye leave off now, this wicked day of
destiny is past. Tide me death, betide me life,
saith the king, now I see him yonder alone, he
shall never escape mine hands, for at a better
avail shall I never have him. God speed you well,
said Sir Bedivere. Then the king gat his spear
in both his hands, and ran toward Sir Mordred
crying, Traitor, now is thy death day come. And
when Sir Mordred heard Sir Arthur, he ran until
him with his sword drawn in his hand. And then
King Arthur smote Sir Mordred under the shield,
with a foin of his spear throughout the body more
than a fathom. And when Sir Mordred felt that he
had his death's wound, he thrust himself, with
the might that he had, up to the butt of King
Arthur's spear. And right so he smote his father
Arthur with his sword holden in both his hands,
on the side of the head, that the sword pierced
the helmet and the brain-pan, and therewithal
Sir Mordred fell stark dead to the earth. And
the noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth,
and there he swooned oft-times - '"
"That is a good piece of war correspondence, Clarence; you are
a first-rate newspaper man. Well - is the king all right? Did
he get well?"
"Poor soul, no. He is dead."
I was utterly stunned; it had not seemed to me that any wound
could be mortal to him.
"And the queen, Clarence?"
"She is a nun, in Almesbury."
"What changes! and in such a short while. It is inconceivable.
What next, I wonder?"
"I can tell you what next."
"Well?"
"Stake our lives and stand by them!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"The Church is master now. The Interdict included you with Mordred;
it is not to be removed while you remain alive. The clans are
gathering. The Church has gathered all the knights that are left
alive, and as soon as you are discovered we shall have business
on our hands."
"Stuff! With our deadly scientific war-material; with our hosts
of trained - "
"Save your breath - we haven't sixty faithful left!"
"What are you saying? Our schools, our colleges, our vast
workshops, our - "
"When those knights come, those establishments will empty themselves
and go over to the enemy. Did you think you had educated the
superstition out of those people?"
"I certainly did think it."
"Well, then, you may unthink it. They stood every strain easily
- until the Interdict. Since then, they merely put on a bold
outside - at heart they are quaking. Make up your mind to it
- when the armies come, the mask will fall."
"It's hard news. We are lost. They will turn our own science
against us."
"No they won't."
"Why?"
"Because I and a handful of the faithful have blocked that game.
I'll tell you what I've done, and what moved me to it. Smart as
you are, the Church was smarter. It was the Church that sent
you cruising - through her servants, the doctors."
"Clarence!"
"It is the truth. I know it. Every officer of your ship was
the Church's picked servant, and so was every man of the crew."
"Oh, come!"
"It is just as I tell you. I did not find out these things at once,
but I found them out finally. Did you send me verbal information,
by the commander of the ship, to the effect that upon his return
to you, with supplies, you were going to leave Cadiz - "
"Cadiz! I haven't been at Cadiz at all!"
" - going to leave Cadiz and cruise in distant seas indefinitely,
for the health of your family? Did you send me that word?"
"Of course not. I would have written, wouldn't I?"
"Naturally. I was troubled and suspicious. When the commander
sailed again I managed to ship a spy with him. I have never
heard of vessel or spy since. I gave myself two weeks to hear
from you in. Then I resolved to send a ship to Cadiz. There was
a reason why I didn't."
"What was that?"
"Our navy had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared! Also, as
suddenly and as mysteriously, the railway and telegraph and
telephone service ceased, the men all deserted, poles were cut
down, the Church laid a ban upon the electric light! I had to be
up and doing - and straight off. Your life was safe - nobody in
these kingdoms but Merlin would venture to touch such a magician
as you without ten thousand men at his back - I had nothing to
think of but how to put preparations in the best trim against your
coming. I felt safe myself - nobody would be anxious to touch
a pet of yours. So this is what I did. From our various works
I selected all the men - boys I mean - whose faithfulness under
whatsoever pressure I could swear to, and I called them together
secretly and gave them their instructions. There are fifty-two of
them; none younger than fourteen, and none above seventeen years old."
"Why did you select boys?"
"Because all the others were born in an atmosphere of superstition
and reared in it. It is in their blood and bones. We imagined
we had educated it out of them; they thought so, too; the Interdict
woke them up like a thunderclap! It revealed them to themselves,
and it revealed them to me, too. With boys it was different. Such
as have been under our training from seven to ten years have had
no acquaintance with the Church's terrors, and it was among these
that I found my fifty-two. As a next move, I paid a private visit
to that old cave of Merlin's - not the small one - the big one - "
"Yes, the one where we secretly established our first great electric
plant when I was projecting a miracle."
"Just so. And as that miracle hadn't become necessary then,
I thought it might be a good idea to utilize the plant now. I've
provisioned the cave for a siege - "
"A good idea, a first-rate idea."
"I think so. I placed four of my boys there as a guard - inside,
and out of sight. Nobody was to be hurt - while outside; but any
attempt to enter - well, we said just let anybody try it! Then
I went out into the hills and uncovered and cut the secret wires
which connected your bedroom with the wires that go to the dynamite
deposits under all our vast factories, mills, workshops, magazines,
etc., and about midnight I and my boys turned out and connected
that wire with the cave, and nobody but you and I suspects where
the other end of it goes to. We laid it under ground, of course, and
it was all finished in a couple of hours or so. We sha'n't have
to leave our fortress now when we want to blow up our civilization."
"It was the right move - and the natural one; military necessity,
in the changed condition of things. Well, what changes _have_ come!
We expected to be besieged in the palace some time or other, but
- however, go on."
"Next, we built a wire fence."
"Wire fence?"
"Yes. You dropped the hint of it yourself, two or three years ago."
"Oh, I remember - the time the Church tried her strength against
us the first time, and presently thought it wise to wait for a
hopefuler season. Well, how have you arranged the fence?"
"I start twelve immensely strong wires - naked, not insulated
- from a big dynamo in the cave - dynamo with no brushes except
a positive and a negative one - "
"Yes, that's right."
"The wires go out from the cave and fence in a circle of level
ground a hundred yards in diameter; they make twelve independent
fences, ten feet apart - that is to say, twelve circles within
circles - and their ends come into the cave again."
"Right; go on."
"The fences are fastened to heavy oaken posts only three feet apart,
and these posts are sunk five feet in the ground."
"That is good and strong."
"Yes. The wires have no ground-connection outside of the cave.
They go out from the positive brush of the dynamo; there is a
ground-connection through the negative brush; the other ends of
the wire return to the cave, and each is grounded independently."
"No, no, that won't do!"
"Why?"
"It's too expensive - uses up force for nothing. You don't want
any ground-connection except the one through the negative brush.
The other end of every wire must be brought back into the cave
and fastened independently, and _without_ any ground-connection.
Now, then, observe the economy of it. A cavalry charge hurls
itself against the fence; you are using no power, you are spending
no money, for there is only one ground-connection till those horses
come against the wire; the moment they touch it they form a
connection with the negative brush _through the ground_, and drop
dead. Don't you see? - you are using no energy until it is needed;
your lightning is there, and ready, like the load in a gun; but
it isn't costing you a cent till you touch it off. Oh, yes, the
single ground-connection - "
"Of course! I don't know how I overlooked that. It's not only
cheaper, but it's more effectual than the other way, for if wires
break or get tangled, no harm is done."
"No, especially if we have a tell-tale in the cave and disconnect
the broken wire. Well, go on. The gatlings?"
"Yes - that's arranged. In the center of the inner circle, on a
spacious platform six feet high, I've grouped a battery of thirteen
gatling guns, and provided plenty of ammunition."
"That's it. They command every approach, and when the Church's
knights arrive, there's going to be music. The brow of the
precipice over the cave - "
"I've got a wire fence there, and a gatling. They won't drop any
rocks down on us."
"Well, and the glass-cylinder dynamite torpedoes?"
"That's attended to. It's the prettiest garden that was ever
planted. It's a belt forty feet wide, and goes around the outer
fence - distance between it and the fence one hundred yards - kind of
neutral ground that space is. There isn't a single square yard
of that whole belt but is equipped with a torpedo. We laid them
on the surface of the ground, and sprinkled a layer of sand over
them. It's an innocent looking garden, but you let a man start
in to hoe it once, and you'll see."
"You tested the torpedoes?"
"Well, I was going to, but - "
"But what? Why, it's an immense oversight not to apply a - "
"Test? Yes, I know; but they're all right; I laid a few in the
public road beyond our lines and they've been tested."
"Oh, that alters the case. Who did it?"
"A Church committee."
"How kind!"
"Yes. They came to command us to make submission. You see they
didn't really come to test the torpedoes; that was merely an incident."
"Did the committee make a report?"
"Yes, they made one. You could have heard it a mile."
"Unanimous?"
"That was the nature of it. After that I put up some signs, for the
protection of future committees, and we have had no intruders since."
"Clarence, you've done a world of work, and done it perfectly."
"We had plenty of time for it; there wasn't any occasion for hurry."
We sat silent awhile, thinking. Then my mind was made up, and
I said:
"Yes, everything is ready; everything is shipshape, no detail is
wanting. I know what to do now."
"So do I; sit down and wait."
"No, _sir_! rise up and _strike_!"
"Do you mean it?"
"Yes, indeed! The _de_fensive isn't in my line, and the _of_fensive
is. That is, when I hold a fair hand - two-thirds as good a hand
as the enemy. Oh, yes, we'll rise up and strike; that's our game."
"A hundred to one you are right. When does the performance begin?"
"_Now!_ We'll proclaim the Republic."
"Well, that _will_ precipitate things, sure enough!"
"It will make them buzz, I tell you! England will be a hornets'
nest before noon to-morrow, if the Church's hand hasn't lost its
cunning - and we know it hasn't. Now you write and I'll dictate thus:
"PROCLAMATION
- -
"BE IT KNOWN UNTO ALL. Whereas the king having died
and left no heir, it becomes my duty to continue the
executive authority vested in me, until a government
shall have been created and set in motion. The
monarchy has lapsed, it no longer exists. By
consequence, all political power has reverted to its
original source, the people of the nation. With the
monarchy, its several adjuncts died also; wherefore
there is no longer a nobility, no longer a privileged
class, no longer an Established Church; all men are
become exactly equal; they are upon one common
level, and religion is free. _A Republic is hereby
proclaimed_, as being the natural estate of a nation
when other authority has ceased. It is the duty of
the British people to meet together immediately,
and by their votes elect representatives and deliver
into their hands the government."
I signed it "The Boss," and dated it from Merlin's Cave.
Clarence said -
"Why, that tells where we are, and invites them to call right away."
"That is the idea. We _strike_ - by the Proclamation - then it's
their innings. Now have the thing set up and printed and posted,
right off; that is, give the order; then, if you've got a couple
of bicycles handy at the foot of the hill, ho for Merlin's Cave!"
"I shall be ready in ten minutes. What a cyclone there is going
to be to-morrow when this piece of paper gets to work!... It's a
pleasant old palace, this is; I wonder if we shall ever again
- but never mind about that."
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 sent
an order to the factories and to all our great works to stop
operations and remove all life to a safe distance, as everything
was going to be blown up by secret mines, "_and no telling at what
moment - therefore, vacate at once_." These people knew me, and
had confidence in my word. They would clear out without waiting
to part their hair, and I could take my own time about dating the
explosion. You couldn't hire one of them to go back during the
century, if the explosion was still impending.
We had a week of waiting. It was not dull for me, because I was
writing all the time. During the first three days, I finished
turning my old diary into this narrative form; it only required
a chapter or so to bring it down to date. The rest of the week
I took up in writing letters to my wife. It was always my habit
to write to Sandy every day, whenever we were separate, and now
I kept up the habit for love of it, and of her, though I couldn't
do 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-Central
were here in the cave, instead of only your photographs, what
good times we could have!" And then, you know, I could imagine
the baby goo-gooing something out in reply, with its fists in its
mouth and itself stretched across its mother's lap on its back,
and she a-laughing and admiring and worshipping, and now and then
tickling under the baby's chin to set it cackling, and then maybe
throwing 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 was
almost like having us all together again.
I had spies out every night, of course, to get news. Every report
made things look more and more impressive. The hosts were gathering,
gathering; down all the roads and paths of England the knights were
riding, and priests rode with them, to hearten these original
Crusaders, this being the Church's war. All the nobilities, big
and little, were on their way, and all the gentry. This was all
as was expected. We should thin out this sort of folk to such
a degree that the people would have nothing to do but just step
to the front with their republic and -
Ah, what a donkey I was! Toward the end of the week I began to get
this large and disenchanting fact through my head: that the mass
of the nation had swung their caps and shouted for the republic for
about one day, and there an end! The Church, the nobles, and
the gentry then turned one grand, all-disapproving frown upon them
and shriveled them into sheep! From that moment the sheep had
begun to gather to the fold - that is to say, the camps - and offer
their valueless lives and their valuable wool to the "righteous
cause." Why, even the very men who had lately been slaves were
in 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 dissenting
voice. All England was marching against us! Truly, this was more
than I had bargained for.
I watched my fifty-two boys narrowly; watched their faces, their
walk, their unconscious attitudes: for all these are a language
- a language given us purposely that it may betray us in times of
emergency, when we have secrets which we want to keep. I knew
that that thought would keep saying itself over and over again
in 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, until
even in their sleep they would find no rest from it, but hear
the vague and flitting creatures of the dreams say, _All England_
- ALL ENGLAND! - _is marching against you_! I knew all this would
happen; I knew that ultimately the pressure would become so great
that it would compel utterance; therefore, I must be ready with an
answer at that time - an answer well chosen and tranquilizing.
I was right. The time came. They HAD to speak. Poor lads, it
was pitiful to see, they were so pale, so worn, so troubled. At
first their spokesman could hardly find voice or words; but he
presently got both. This is what he said - and he put it in the
neat modern English taught him in my schools:
"We have tried to forget what we are - English boys! We have tried
to put reason before sentiment, duty before love; our minds
approve, but our hearts reproach us. While apparently it was
only the nobility, only the gentry, only the twenty-five or thirty
thousand knights left alive out of the late wars, we were of one
mind, and undisturbed by any troubling doubt; each and every one
of these fifty-two lads who stand here before you, said, 'They
have chosen - it is their affair.' But think! - the matter is
altered - _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 for
a thing when it happens. If I hadn't foreseen this thing and been
fixed, 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 the
worthy thought, you have done the worthy thing. You are English
boys, you will remain English boys, and you will keep that name
unsmirched. Give yourselves no further concern, let your minds be
at peace. Consider this: while all England is marching against
us, who is in the van? Who, by the commonest rules of war, will
march 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! Then
there will be an episode! Immediately after, the civilian multitude
in the rear will retire, to meet business engagements elsewhere.
None but nobles and gentry are knights, and _none but these_ will
remain to dance to our music after that episode. It is absolutely
true that we shall have to fight nobody but these thirty thousand
knights. Now speak, and it shall be as you decide. Shall we
avoid 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 vanished
away, and they went gaily to their posts. Ah, they were a darling
fifty-two! As pretty as girls, too.
I was ready for the enemy now. Let the approaching big day come
along - it would find us on deck.
The big day arrived on time. At dawn the sentry on watch in the
corral came into the cave and reported a moving black mass under
the horizon, and a faint sound which he thought to be military
music. Breakfast was just ready; we sat down and ate it.
This over, I made the boys a little speech, and then sent out
a detail to man the battery, with Clarence in command of it.
The sun rose presently and sent its unobstructed splendors over
the 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 imposing
became its aspect; yes, all England was there, apparently. Soon
we could see the innumerable banners fluttering, and then the sun
struck the sea of armor and set it all aflash. Yes, it was a fine
sight; I hadn't ever seen anything to beat it.
At last we could make out details. All the front ranks, no telling
how many acres deep, were horsemen - plumed knights in armor.
Suddenly we heard the blare of trumpets; the slow walk burst into
a gallop, and then - well, it was wonderful to see! Down swept
that vast horse-shoe wave - it approached the sand-belt - my breath
stood still; nearer, nearer - the strip of green turf beyond the
yellow belt grew narrow - narrower still - became a mere ribbon in
front of the horses - then disappeared under their hoofs. Great
Scott! Why, the whole front of that host shot into the sky with
a thunder-crash, and became a whirling tempest of rags and fragments;
and along the ground lay a thick wall of smoke that hid what was
left of the multitude from our sight.
Time for the second step in the plan of campaign! I touched
a button, and shook the bones of England loose from her spine!
In that explosion all our noble civilization-factories went up in