A connecticut yankee in king arthurs court

A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Complete Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) Release Date: August 20, 2006 [Ebook #86] Last Updated: May 25, 2018 Language: English *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNECTICUT YANKEE *** Produced by David Widger Extra.jpg (144K) titlepage.jpg (58K) A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT by MARK TWAIN (Samuel L Clemens) CONTENTS: CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XIV CHAPTER XV CHAPTER XVI CHAPTER XVII CHAPTER XVIII CHAPTER XIX CHAPTER XX CHAPTER XXI CHAPTER XXII CHAPTER XXIII CHAPTER XXIV CHAPTER XXV CHAPTER XXVI CAMELOT KING ARTHUR’S COURT KNIGHTS OF THE TABLE ROUND SIR DINADAN THE HUMORIST AN INSPIRATION THE ECLIPSE MERLIN’S TOWER THE BOSS THE TOURNAMENT BEGINNINGS OF CIVILIZATION THE YANKEE IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES SLOW TORTURE FREEMEN! “DEFEND THEE, LORD! SANDY’S TALE MORGAN LE FAY A ROYAL BANQUET IN THE QUEEN’S DUNGEONS KNIGHT ERRANTRY AS A TRADE THE OGRE’S CASTLE THE PILGRIMS THE HOLY FOUNTAIN RESTORATION OF THE FOUNTAIN A RIVAL MAGICIAN A COMPETITIVE EXAMINATION THE FIRST NEWSPAPER THE YANKEE AND THE KING TRAVEL CHAPTER XXVII INCOGNITO CHAPTER XXVIII DRILLING THE KING CHAPTER XXIX CHAPTER XXX CHAPTER XXXI CHAPTER XXXII CHAPTER XXXIII CHAPTER XXXIV CHAPTER XXXV CHAPTER XXXVI CHAPTER XXXVII CHAPTER XXXVIII CHAPTER XXXIX CHAPTER XL CHAPTER XLI CHAPTER XLII CHAPTER XLIII CHAPTER XLIV THE SMALL-POX HUT THE TRAGEDY OF THE MANOR-HOUSE MARCO DOWLEY’S HUMILIATION SIXTH CENTURY POLITICAL ECONOMY THE YANKEE AND THE KING SOLD AS SLAVES A PITIFUL INCIDENT AN ENCOUNTER IN THE DARK AN AWFUL PREDICAMENT SIR LAUNCELOT AND KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE THE YANKEE’S FIGHT WITH THE KNIGHTS THREE YEARS LATER THE INTERDICT WAR! THE BATTLE OF THE SAND-BELT A POSTSCRIPT BY CLARENCE PREFACE The ungentle laws and customs touched upon in this tale are historical, and the episodes which are used to illustrate them are also historical It is not pretended that these laws and customs existed in England in the sixth century; no, it is only pretended that inasmuch as they existed in the English and other civilizations of far later times, it is safe to consider that it is no libel upon the sixth century to suppose them to have been in practice in that day also One is quite justified in inferring that whatever one of these laws or customs was lacking in that remote time, its place was competently filled by a worse one The question as to whether there is such a thing as divine right of kings is not settled in this book It was found too difficult That the executive head of a nation should be a person of lofty character and extraordinary ability, was manifest and indisputable; that none but the Deity could select that head unerringly, was also manifest and indisputable; that the Deity ought to make that selection, then, was likewise manifest and indisputable; consequently, that He does make it, as claimed, was an unavoidable deduction I mean, until the author of this book encountered the Pompadour, and Lady Castlemaine, and some other executive heads of that kind; these were found so difficult to work into the scheme, that it was judged better to take the other tack in this book (which must be issued this fall), and then go into training and settle the question in another book It is, of course, a thing which ought to be settled, and I am not going to have anything particular to do next winter anyway MARK TWAIN HARTFORD, July 21, 1889 00-017.jpg (138K) A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT A WORD OF EXPLANATION It was in Warwick Castle that I came across the curious stranger whom I am going to talk about He attracted me by three things: his candid simplicity, his marvelous familiarity with ancient armor, and the restfulness of his company— for he did all the talking We fell together, as modest people will, in the tail of the herd that was being shown through, and he at once began to say things which interested me As he talked along, softly, pleasantly, flowingly, he seemed to drift away imperceptibly out of this world and time, and into some remote era and old forgotten country; and so he gradually wove such a spell about me that I seemed to move among the specters and shadows and dust and mold of a gray antiquity, holding speech with a relic of it! Exactly as I would speak of my nearest personal friends or enemies, or my most familiar neighbors, he spoke of Sir Bedivere, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Launcelot of the Lake, Sir Galahad, and all the other great names of the Table Round—and how old, old, unspeakably old and faded and dry and musty and ancient he came to look as he went on! Presently he turned to me and said, just as one might speak of the weather, or any other common matter— “You know about transmigration of souls; do you know about transposition of epochs—and bodies?” I said I had not heard of it He was so little interested—just as when people speak of the weather—that he did not notice whether I made him any answer or not There was half a moment of silence, immediately interrupted by the droning voice of the salaried cicerone: “Ancient hauberk, date of the sixth century, time of King Arthur and the Round Table; said to have belonged to the knight Sir Sagramor le Desirous; observe the round hole through the chain-mail in the left breast; can’t be accounted for; supposed to have been done with a bullet since invention of firearms—perhaps maliciously by Cromwell’s soldiers.” My acquaintance smiled—not a modern smile, but one that must have gone out of general use many, many centuries ago—and muttered apparently to himself: “Wit ye well, I saw it done ” Then, after a pause, added: “I did it myself.” By the time I had recovered from the electric surprise of this remark, he was gone All that evening I sat by my fire at the Warwick Arms, steeped in a dream of the olden time, while the rain beat upon the windows, and the wind roared about the eaves and corners From time to time I dipped into old Sir Thomas Malory’s enchanting book, and fed at its rich feast of prodigies and adventures, breathed in the fragrance of its obsolete names, and dreamed again Midnight being come at length, I read another tale, for a nightcap—this which here follows, to wit: HOW SIR LAUNCELOT SLEW TWO GIANTS, AND MADE A CASTLE FREE Anon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed, all save the heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands Sir Launcelot put his shield afore him, and put the stroke away of the one giant, and with his sword he clave his head asunder When his fellow saw that, he ran away as he were wood [*demented], for fear of the horrible strokes, and Sir Launcelot after him with all his might, and smote him on the shoulder, and clave him to the middle Then Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and there came afore him three score ladies and damsels, and all kneeled unto him, and thanked God and him of their deliverance For, sir, said they, the most part of us have been here this seven year their prisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for our meat, and we are all great gentle-women born, and blessed be the time, knight, that ever thou wert born; for thou hast done the most worship that ever did knight in the world, that will we bear record, and we all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our friends who delivered us out of prison Fair I presently gave up looking, the night shut down so black, but I kept my ears strained to catch the least suspicious sound, for I 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 you may call in distinct glimpses of sound dulled metallic sound I pricked up my ears, then, and held my breath, for this was the sort of thing I had been waiting for This sound thickened, and approached—from toward the north Presently, I heard it at my own level—the ridge-top of the opposite embankment, a hundred feet or more away Then I seemed to see a row of black dots appear along that ridge—human heads? I couldn’t tell; it mightn’t be anything at all; you can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus However, the question was soon settled I heard that metallic noise descending into the great ditch It augmented fast, it spread all along, and it unmistakably furnished me this fact: an armed host was taking up its quarters in the ditch Yes, these people were arranging a little surprise party for us We could expect entertainment about dawn, possibly earlier I groped my way back to the corral now; I had seen enough I went to the platform and signaled to turn the current on to the two inner fences Then I went into the cave, and found everything satisfactory there—nobody awake but the working-watch I woke Clarence 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 expect the ditch’s ambuscaded thousands to swarm up over the embankment and make an assault, and be followed immediately by the rest of their army Clarence said: “They will be wanting to send a scout or two in the dark to make preliminary observations Why not take the lightning off the outer fences, and give them a chance?” “I’ve already done it, Clarence Did you ever know me to be inhospitable?” “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 inside fences Even the dim light of the cave had disordered our eyesight somewhat, but the focus straightway began to regulate itself and soon it was adjusted for present circumstances We had had to feel our way before, but we could make out to see the fence posts now We started a whispered conversation, but suddenly Clarence broke off and said: “What is that?” “What is what?” “That thing yonder.” “What thing—where?” “There beyond you a little piece—dark something—a dull shape of 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.” 43-562.jpg (161K) 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 a door-nail, and never knew what hurt him He stood there like a statue—no motion about him, except that his plumes swished about a little in the night wind We rose up and looked in through the bars of his visor, but couldn’t make out whether we knew him or not—features too dim and shadowed We heard muffled sounds approaching, and we sank down to the ground where we were We made out another knight vaguely; he was coming very stealthily, and feeling his way He was near enough now for us to see him put out a hand, find an upper wire, then bend and step under it and over the lower one Now he arrived at the first knight—and started slightly when he discovered him He stood a moment—no doubt wondering why the other one didn’t move on; then he said, in a low voice, “Why dreamest thou here, good Sir Mar—” then he laid his hand on the corpse’s shoulder—and just uttered a little soft moan and sunk down dead Killed by a dead man, you see—killed by a dead friend, in fact There was something awful about it These early birds came scattering along after each other, about one 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 and found the wires with it We would now and then see a blue spark when the knight that caused it was so far away as to be invisible to us; but we knew what had happened, all the same; poor fellow, he had touched a charged wire with his sword and been electrocuted We had brief intervals of grim stillness, interrupted with piteous regularity by the clash made by the falling of an iron-clad; and this sort of thing was going on, right along, and was very creepy there in the dark and lonesomeness We concluded to make a tour between the inner fences We elected to walk upright, for convenience’s sake; we argued that if discerned, we should be taken for friends rather than enemies, and in any case we should be out of reach of swords, and these gentry did not seem to have any spears along Well, it was a curious trip Everywhere dead men were lying outside the second fence—not plainly visible, but still visible; and we counted fifteen of those pathetic statues —dead knights standing with their hands on the upper wire One thing seemed to be sufficiently demonstrated: our current was so tremendous that it killed before the victim could cry out Pretty soon we detected a muffled and heavy sound, and next moment we guessed what it was It was a surprise in force coming! whispered Clarence to go and wake the army, and notify it to wait in silence in the cave for further orders He was soon back, and we stood by the inner fence and watched the silent lightning do its awful work upon that swarming host One could make out but little of detail; but he could note that a black mass was piling itself up beyond the second fence That swelling bulk was dead men! Our camp was enclosed with a solid wall of the dead—a bulwark, a breastwork, of corpses, you may say One terrible thing about this thing was the absence of human voices; there were no cheers, no war cries; being intent upon a surprise, these men moved as noiselessly as they could; and always when the front rank was near enough to their goal to make it proper for them to begin to get a shout ready, of course they struck the fatal line and went down without testifying I sent a current through the third fence now; and almost immediately through the fourth and fifth, so quickly were the gaps filled up I believed the time was come now for my climax; I believed that that whole army was in our trap Anyway, it was high time to find out So I touched a button and set fifty electric suns aflame on 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 utilize their immobility in, and I didn’t lose the chance You see, in another instant they would have recovered their faculties, then they’d have burst into a cheer and made a rush, and my wires would have gone down before it; but that lost instant lost them their opportunity forever; while even that slight fragment of time was still unspent, I shot the current through all the fences and struck the whole host dead in their tracks! There was a groan you 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 thousand strong— were between us and the encircling ditch, and pressing forward to the assault Consequently we had them all! and had them past help Time for the last act of the tragedy I fired the three appointed revolver shots—which meant: “Turn on the water!” There was a sudden rush and roar, and in a minute the mountain brook was raging through the big ditch and creating a river a hundred feet wide and twentyfive deep “Stand to your guns, men! Open fire!” The thirteen gatlings began to vomit death into the fated ten thousand They halted, they stood their ground a moment against that withering deluge of fire, then they broke, faced about and swept toward the ditch like chaff before a gale A full fourth part 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 resistance was totally annihilated, the campaign was ended, we fifty-four were masters of England Twenty-five thousand men lay dead around us 43-565.jpg (22K) But how treacherous is fortune! In a little while—say an hour—happened a thing, by my own fault, which—but I have no heart to write that Let the record end here 44-567.jpg (85K) CHAPTER XLIV 44-569.jpg (132K) A POSTSCRIPT BY CLARENCE I, Clarence, must write it for him He proposed that we two go out and see if any help could be accorded the wounded I was strenuous against the project I said that if there were many, we could do but little for them; and it would not be wise for us to trust ourselves among them, anyway But he could seldom be turned from a purpose once formed; so we shut off the electric current from the fences, took an escort along, climbed over the enclosing ramparts of dead knights, and moved out upon the field The first wounded mall who appealed for help was sitting with his back against a dead comrade When The Boss bent over him and spoke to him, the man recognized him and stabbed him That knight was Sir Meliagraunce, as I found out by tearing off his helmet He will not ask for help any more We carried The Boss to the cave and gave his wound, which was not very serious, the best care we could In this service we had the help of Merlin, though we did not know it He was disguised as a woman, and appeared to be a simple old peasant goodwife In this disguise, with brown-stained face and smooth shaven, he had appeared a few days after The Boss was hurt and offered to cook for us, saying her people had gone off to join certain new camps which the enemy were forming, and that she was starving The Boss had been getting along very well, and had amused himself with finishing up his record We were glad to have this woman, for we were short handed We were in a trap, you see—a trap of our own making If we stayed where we were, our dead would kill us; if we moved out of our defenses, we should no longer be invincible We had conquered; in turn we were conquered The Boss recognized this; we all recognized it If we could go to one of those new camps and patch up some kind of terms with the enemy—yes, but The Boss could not go, and neither could I, for I was among the first that were made sick by the poisonous air bred by those dead thousands Others were taken down, and still others Tomorrow— To-morrow It is here And with it the end About midnight I awoke, and saw that hag making curious passes in the air about The Boss’s head and face, and wondered what it meant Everybody but the dynamo-watch lay steeped in sleep; there was no sound The woman ceased from her mysterious foolery, and started tip-toeing toward the door I called out: “Stop! What have you been doing?” She halted, and said with an accent of malicious satisfaction: “Ye were conquerors; ye are conquered! These others are perishing—you also Ye shall all die in this place—every one—except him He sleepeth now— and shall sleep thirteen centuries I am Merlin!” Then such a delirium of silly laughter overtook him that he reeled about like a drunken man, and presently fetched up against one of our wires His mouth is spread open yet; apparently he is still laughing I suppose the face will retain that petrified laugh until the corpse turns to dust The Boss has never stirred—sleeps like a stone If he does not wake to-day we shall understand what kind of a sleep it is, and his body will then be borne to a place in one of the remote recesses of the cave where none will ever find it to desecrate it As for the rest of us—well, it is agreed that if any one of us ever escapes alive from this place, he will write the fact here, and loyally hide this Manuscript with The Boss, our dear good chief, whose property it is, be he alive or dead 44-571.jpg (20K) THE END OF THE MANUSCRIPT 44-572.jpg (80K) FINAL P.S BY M.T The dawn was come when I laid the Manuscript aside The rain had almost ceased, the world was gray and sad, the exhausted storm was sighing and sobbing itself to rest I went to the stranger’s room, and listened at his door, which was slightly ajar I could hear his voice, and so I knocked There was no answer, but I still heard the voice I peeped in The man lay on his back in bed, talking brokenly but with spirit, and punctuating with his arms, which he thrashed about, restlessly, as sick people do in delirium I slipped in softly and bent over him His mutterings and ejaculations went on I spoke—merely a word, to call his attention His glassy eyes and his ashy face were alight in an instant with pleasure, gratitude, gladness, welcome: 44-573.jpg (55K) “Oh, Sandy, you are come at last—how I have longed for you! Sit by me—do not leave me—never leave me again, Sandy, never again Where is your hand?— give it me, dear, let me hold it—there—now all is well, all is peace, and I am happy again—we are happy again, isn’t it so, Sandy? You are so dim, so vague, you are but a mist, a cloud, but you are here , and that is blessedness sufficient; and I have your hand; don’t take it away—it is for only a little while, I shall not require it long Was that the child? Hello-Central! she doesn’t answer Asleep, perhaps? Bring her when she wakes, and let me touch her hands, her face, her hair, and tell her good-bye Sandy! Yes, you are there I lost myself a moment, and I thought you were gone Have I been sick long? It must be so; it seems months to me And such dreams! such strange and awful dreams, Sandy! Dreams that were as real as reality—delirium, of course, but so real! Why, I thought the king was dead, I thought you were in Gaul and couldn’t get home, I thought there was a revolution; in the fantastic frenzy of these dreams, I thought that Clarence and I and a handful of my cadets fought and exterminated the whole chivalry of England! But even that was not the strangest I seemed to be a creature out of a remote unborn age, centuries hence, and even that was as real as the rest! Yes, I seemed to have flown back out of that age into this of ours, and then forward to it again, and was set down, a stranger and forlorn in that strange England, with an abyss of thirteen centuries yawning between me and you! between me and my home and my friends! between me and all that is dear to me, all that could make life worth the living! It was awful—awfuler than you can ever imagine, Sandy Ah, watch by me, Sandy—stay by me every moment—don’t let me go out of my mind again; death is nothing, let it come, but not with those dreams, not with the torture of those hideous dreams—I cannot endure that again Sandy? ” He lay muttering incoherently some little time; then for a time he lay silent, and apparently sinking away toward death Presently his fingers began to pick busily at the coverlet, and by that sign I knew that his end was at hand with the first suggestion of the death-rattle in his throat he started up slightly, and seemed to listen: then he said: “A bugle? It is the king! The drawbridge, there! Man the battlements!— turn out the—” He was getting up his last “effect”; but he never finished it 44-575.jpg (71K) End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNECTICUT YANKEE *** ***** This file should be named 86-h.htm or 86-h.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/8/86/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one the old editions will be renamed Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm 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created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S unless a copyright notice is included Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: http://www.gutenberg.net This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks ... bellowing after him and battering and crashing against everything that came in their way and making altogether a chaos of confusion and a most deafening din and turmoil; at which every man and woman of the multitude laughed till the tears flowed, and some fell out of... eye, and saw that a very old and white-bearded man, clothed in a flowing black gown, had risen and was standing at the table upon unsteady legs, and feebly swaying his ancient head and surveying... king that I am a magician myself—and the Supreme Grand High-yu-Muckamuck and head of the tribe, at that; and I want him to be made to understand that I am just quietly arranging a little calamity here that will make the fur fly in