Chapter XXXIV: The Yankee and the King Sold as Slaves

by Mark Twain

　　Well, what had I better do? Nothing in a hurry,sure. I must get up a diversion; anything toemploy me while I could think, and while these poorfellows could have a chance to come to life again.There sat Marco, petrified in the act of trying to getthe hang of his miller-gun -- turned to stone, just inthe attitude he was in when my pile-driver fell, the toystill gripped in his unconscious fingers. So I took itfrom him and proposed to explain its 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, they were totally unused to it. Themiller-gun was a little double-barreled tube of toughened glass, with a neat little trick of a spring to it,which upon pressure would let a shot escape. But theshot wouldn't hurt anybody, it would only drop intoyour hand. In the gun were two sizes -- wee mustardseed shot, and another sort that were several timeslarger. They were money. The mustard-seed shotrepresented milrays, the larger ones mills. So thegun was a purse; and very handy, too; you couldpay out money in the dark with it, with accuracy; andyou could carry it in your mouth; or in your vestpocket, if you had one. I made them of several sizes-- one size so large that it would carry the equivalentof a dollar. Using shot for money was a good thingfor the government; the metal cost nothing, and themoney couldn't be counterfeited, for I was the onlyperson in the kingdom who knew how to manage ashot tower. "Paying the shot" soon came to be acommon phrase. Yes, and I knew it would still bepassing men's lips, away down in the nineteenth century, 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 couldmake me nervous now, I was so uneasy -- for our liveswere in danger; and so it worried me to detect a complacent something in the king's eye which seemed toindicate that he had been loading himself up for aperformance of some kind or other; confound it, whymust he go and choose such a time as this?I was right. He began, straight off, in the mostinnocently artful, and transparent, and lubberly way,to lead up to the subject of agriculture. The coldsweat broke out all over me. I wanted to whisper inhis ear, "Man, we are in awful danger! every momentis worth a principality till we get back these men'sconfidence; don't waste any of this golden time."But of course I couldn't do it. Whisper to him? Itwould look as if we were conspiring. So I had to sitthere and look calm and pleasant while the king stoodover that dynamite mine and mooned along about hisdamned onions and things. At first the tumult of myown thoughts, summoned by the danger-signal andswarming to the rescue from every quarter of myskull, kept up such a hurrah and confusion and fifingand drumming that I couldn't take in a word; butpresently when my mob of gathering plans began tocrystallize and fall into position and form line of battle,a sort of order and quiet ensued and I caught the boomof the king's batteries, as if out of remote distance:"-- were not the best way, methinks, albeit it is notto be denied that authorities differ as concerning thispoint, some contending that the onion is but an unwholesome berry when stricken early from the tree --"The audience showed signs of life, and sought eachother's eyes in a surprised and troubled way."-- whileas others do yet maintain, with much showof reason, that this is not of necessity the case, instancing that plums and other like cereals do be always dugin the unripe state --"The audience exhibited distinct distress; yes, andalso fear."-- yet are they clearly wholesome, the more especially when one doth assuage the asperities of theirnature by admixture of the tranquilizing juice of thewayward cabbage --"The wild light of terror began to glow in these men'seyes, and one of them muttered, "These be errors,every one -- God hath surely smitten the mind of thisfarmer." I was in miserable apprehension; I sat uponthorns."-- and further instancing the known truth that inthe case of animals, the young, which may be calledthe green fruit of the creature, is the better, all confessing that when a goat is ripe, his fur doth heat andsore engame his flesh, the which defect, taken in connection with his several rancid habits, and fulsomeappetites, and godless attitudes of mind, and biliousquality of morals --"They rose and went for him! With a fierce shout,"The one would betray us, the other is mad! Killthem! Kill them!" they flung themselves upon us.What joy flamed up in the king's eye! He might belame in agriculture, but this kind of thing was just inhis line. He had been fasting long, he was hungryfor a fight. He hit the blacksmith a crack under thejaw that lifted him clear off his feet and stretched himflat on his back. "St. George for Britain!" and hedowned the wheelwright. The mason was big, but Ilaid him out like nothing. The three gathered themselves up and came again; went down again; cameagain; and kept on repeating this, with native Britishpluck, until they were battered to jelly, reeling withexhaustion, and so blind that they couldn't tell usfrom each other; and yet they kept right on, hammering away with what might was left in them. Hammering each other -- for we stepped aside and lookedon while they rolled, and struggled, and gouged, andpounded, and bit, with the strict and wordless attentionto business of so many bulldogs. We looked on without apprehension, for they were fast getting pastability to go for help against us, and the arena wasfar enough from the public road to be safe fromintrusion.Well, while they were gradually playing out, it suddenly occurred to me to wonder what had become ofMarco. I looked around; he was nowhere to be seen.Oh, but this was ominous! I pulled the king's sleeve,and we glided away and rushed for the hut. No Marcothere, no Phyllis there! They had gone to the roadfor help, sure. I told the king to give his heels wings,and I would explain later. We made good time acrossthe open ground, and as we darted into the shelter ofthe wood I glanced back and saw a mob of excitedpeasants swarm into view, with Marco and his wife attheir head. They were making a world of noise, butthat couldn't hurt anybody; the wood was dense, andas soon as we were well into its depths we would taketo a tree and let them whistle. Ah, but then cameanother sound -- dogs! Yes, that was quite anothermatter. It magnified our contract -- we must findrunning water.We tore along at a good gait, and soon left thesounds far behind and modified to a murmur. Westruck a stream and darted into it. We waded swiftlydown it, in the dim forest light, for as much as threehundred yards, and then came across an oak with agreat bough sticking out over the water. We climbedup on this bough, and began to work our way along itto the body of the tree; now we began to hear thosesounds more plainly; so the mob had struck our trail.For a while the sounds approached pretty fast. Andthen for another while they didn't. No doubt thedogs had found the place where we had entered thestream, and were now waltzing up and down the shorestrying to pick up the trail again.When we were snugly lodged in the tree and curtained with foliage, the king was satisfied, but I wasdoubtful. I believed we could crawl along a branchand get into the next tree, and I judged it worth whileto try. We tried it, and made a success of it, thoughthe king slipped, at the junction, and came near failingto connect. We got comfortable lodgment and satisfactory concealment among the foliage, and then wehad nothing to do but listen to the hunt.Presently we heard it coming -- and coming on thejump, too; yes, and down both sides of the stream.Louder -- louder -- next minute it swelled swiftly upinto a roar of shoutings, barkings, tramplings, andswept by like a cyclone."I was afraid that the overhanging branch wouldsuggest something to them," said I, "but I don'tmind the disappointment. Come, my liege, it werewell that we make good use of our time. We'veflanked them. Dark is coming on, presently. If wecan cross the stream and get a good start, and borrowa couple of horses from somebody's pasture to use fora few hours, we shall be safe enough."We started down, and got nearly to the lowest limb,when we seemed to hear the hunt returning. Westopped to listen."Yes," said I, "they're baffled, they've given itup, they're on their way home. We will climb backto our roost again, and let them go by."So we climbed back. The king listened a momentand said:"They still search -- I wit the sign. We did best toabide."He was right. He knew more about hunting than Idid. The noise approached steadily, but not with arush. The king said:"They reason that we were advantaged by no parlous start of them, and being on foot are as yet nomighty way from where we took the water.""Yes, sire, that is about it, I am afraid, though Iwas hoping better things."The noise drew nearer and nearer, and soon the vanwas drifting under us, on both sides of the water. Avoice called a halt from the other bank, and said:"An they were so minded, they could get to yontree by this branch that overhangs, and yet not touchground. Ye will do well to send a man up it.""Marry, that we will do!"I was obliged to admire my cuteness in foreseeingthis very thing and swapping trees to beat it. But,don't you know, there are some things that can beatsmartness and foresight? Awkwardness and stupiditycan. The best swordsman in the world doesn't needto fear the second best swordsman in the world; no,the person for him to be afraid of is some ignorantantagonist who has never had a sword in his hand before; he doesn't do the thing he ought to do, and sothe expert isn't prepared for him; he does the thinghe ought not to do; and often it catches the expertout and ends him on the spot. Well, how could I,with all my gifts, make any valuable preparation againsta near-sighted, cross-eyed, pudding-headed clown whowould aim himself at the wrong tree and hit the rightone? And that is what he did. He went for thewrong tree, which was, of course, the right one bymistake, and up he started.Matters were serious now. We remained still, andawaited developments. The peasant toiled his difficultway up. The king raised himself up and stood; hemade a leg ready, and when the comer's head arrivedin reach of it there was a dull thud, and down wentthe man floundering to the ground. There was a wildoutbreak of anger below, and the mob swarmed infrom all around, and there we were treed, and prisoners. Another man started up; the bridging boughwas detected, and a volunteer started up the tree thatfurnished the bridge. The king ordered me to playHoratius and keep the bridge. For a while the enemycame thick and fast; but no matter, the head man ofeach procession always got a buffet that dislodged himas soon as he came in reach. The king's spirits rose,his joy was limitless. He said that if nothing occurredto mar the prospect we should have a beautiful night,for on this line of tactics we could hold the tree againstthe whole country-side.However, the mob soon came to that conclusionthemselves; wherefore they called off the assault andbegan to debate other plans. They had no weapons,but there were plenty of stones, and stones mightanswer. We had no objections. A stone might possibly penetrate to us once in a while, but it wasn'tvery likely; we were well protected by boughs andfoliage, and were not visible from any good aimingpoint. If they would but waste half an hour in stonethrowing, the dark would come to our help. We werefeeling very well satisfied. We could smile; almostlaugh.But we didn't; which was just as well, for we shouldhave been interrupted. Before the stones had beenraging through the leaves and bouncing from theboughs fifteen minutes, we began to notice a smell.A couple of sniffs of it was enough of an explanation --it was smoke! Our game was up at last. We recognized that. When smoke invites you, you have tocome. They raised their pile of dry brush and dampweeds higher and higher, and when they saw the thickcloud begin to roll up and smother the tree, they brokeout in a storm of joy-clamors. I got enough breath tosay:"Proceed, my liege; after you is manners."The king gasped:"Follow me down, and then back thyself againstone side of the trunk, and leave me the other. Thenwill we fight. Let each pile his dead according to hisown fashion and taste."Then he descended, barking and coughing, and Ifollowed. I struck the ground an instant after him;we sprang to our appointed places, and began to giveand take with all our might. The powwow and racketwere prodigious; it was a tempest of riot and confusion and thick-falling blows. Suddenly some horsemen tore into the midst of the crowd, and a voiceshouted:"Hold -- or ye are dead men!"How good it sounded! The owner of the voicebore all the marks of a gentleman: picturesque andcostly raiment, the aspect of command, a hard countenance, with complexion and features marred by dissipation. The mob fell humbly back, like so manyspaniels. The gentleman inspected us critically, thensaid sharply to the peasants:"What are ye doing to these people?""They be madmen, worshipful sir, that have comewandering we know not whence, and --""Ye know not whence? Do ye pretend ye knowthem not?""Most honored sir, we speak but the truth. Theyare strangers and unknown to any in this region; andthey be the most violent and bloodthirsty madmen thatever --""Peace! Ye know not what ye say. They are notmad. Who are ye? And whence are ye? Explain.""We are but peaceful strangers, sir," I said, "andtraveling upon our own concerns. We are from a farcountry, and unacquainted here. We have purposedno harm; and yet but for your brave interference andprotection these people would have killed us. As youhave divined, sir, we are not mad; neither are weviolent or bloodthirsty."The gentleman turned to his retinue and said calmly:"Lash me these animals to their kennels!"The mob vanished in an instant; and after themplunged the horsemen, laying about them with theirwhips and pitilessly riding down such as were witlessenough to keep the road instead of taking to the bush.The shrieks and supplications presently died away inthe distance, and soon the horsemen began to straggleback. Meantime the gentleman had been questioningus more closely, but had dug no particulars out of us.We were lavish of recognition of the service he wasdoing us, but we revealed nothing more than that wewere friendless strangers from a far country. Whenthe escort were all returned, the gentleman said to oneof his servants:"Bring the led-horses and mount these people.""Yes, my lord."We were placed toward the rear, among the servants.We traveled pretty fast, and finally drew rein sometime after dark at a roadside inn some ten or twelvemiles from the scene of our troubles. My lord wentimmediately to his room, after ordering his 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 thatmoment with indolent grace, and said:"Ye have said ye should continue upon this road,which is our direction likewise; wherefore my lord,the earl Grip, hath given commandment that ye retainthe horses and ride, and that certain of us ride withye 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 thanksand accept the offer. We jogged along, six in theparty, at a moderate and comfortable gait, and in conversation learned that my lord Grip was a very greatpersonage in his own region, which lay a day's journeybeyond Cambenet. We loitered to such a degree thatit was near the middle of the forenoon when we enteredthe market square of the town. We dismounted, andleft our thanks once more for my lord, and then approached a crowd assembled in the center of thesquare, to see what might be the object of interest.It was the remnant of that old peregrinating band ofslaves! So they had been dragging their chains about,all this weary time. That poor husband was gone, andalso many others; and some few purchases had beenadded to the gang. The king was not interested, andwanted to move along, but I was absorbed, and full ofpity. I could not take my eyes away from these wornand wasted wrecks of humanity. There they sat,grounded upon the ground, silent, uncomplaining, withbowed heads, a pathetic sight. And by hideous contrast, a redundant orator was making a speech toanother gathering not thirty steps away, in fulsomelaudation of "our glorious British liberties!"I was boiling. I had forgotten I was a plebeian, Iwas remembering I was a man. Cost what it might, Iwould mount that rostrum and --Click! the king and I were handcuffed together!Our companions, those servants, had done it; my lordGrip stood looking on. The king 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 howunspeakably awful! The king lifted his manacles andbrought them down with a deadly force; but my lordwas out of the way when they arrived. A dozen ofthe rascal's servants sprang forward, and in a momentwe were helpless, with our hands bound behind us.We so loudly and so earnestly proclaimed ourselvesfreemen, that we got the interested attention of thatliberty-mouthing orator and his patriotic crowd, andthey gathered about us and assumed a very determinedattitude. The orator said:"If, indeed, ye are freemen, ye have nought tofear -- the God-given liberties of Britain are about yefor your shield and shelter! (Applause.) Ye shallsoon see. Bring forth your proofs.""What proofs?""Proof that ye are freemen."Ah -- I remembered! I came to myself; I saidnothing. But the king stormed out:"Thou'rt insane, man. It were better, and morein reason, that this thief and scoundrel here prove thatwe are not freemen."You see, he knew his own laws just as other peopleso often know the laws; by words, not by effects.They take a meaning, and get to be very vivid, whenyou come to apply them to yourself.All hands shook their heads and looked disappointed; some turned away, no longer interested. Theorator said -- and this time in the tones of business,not of sentiment:"An ye do not know your country's laws, it weretime ye learned them. Ye are strangers to us; ye willnot deny that. Ye may be freemen, we do not denythat; but also ye may be slaves. The law is clear: itdoth not require the claimant to prove ye are slaves, itrequireth you to prove ye are not."I said:"Dear sir, give us only time to send to Astolat; orgive us only time to send to the Valley of Holiness --""Peace, good man, these are extraordinary requests,and you may not hope to have them granted. It wouldcost much time, and would unwarrantably inconvenience your master --""Master, idiot!" stormed the king. "I have nomaster, I myself am the m--""Silence, for God's sake!"I got the words out in time to stop the king. Wewere in trouble enough already; it could not help usany to give these people the notion that we werelunatics.There is no use in stringing out the details. Theearl put us up and sold us at auction. This same infernal law had existed in our own South in my owntime, more than thirteen hundred years later, andunder it hundreds of freemen who could not prove thatthey were freemen had been sold into lifelong slaverywithout the circumstance making any particular impression upon me; but the minute law and the auctionblock came into my personal experience, a thingwhich had been merely improper before became suddenly hellish. Well, that's the way we are made.Yes, we were sold at auction, like swine. In a bigtown and an active market we should have brought agood price; but this place was utterly stagnant and sowe sold at a figure which makes me ashamed, everytime I think of it. The King of England broughtseven dollars, and his prime minister nine; whereasthe king was easily worth twelve dollars and I as easilyworth fifteen. But that is the way things always go;if you force a sale on a dull market, I don't care whatthe property is, you are going to make a poor businessof it, and you can make up your mind to it. If theearl had had wit enough to --However, there is no occasion for my working mysympathies up on his account. Let him go, for thepresent; I took his number, so to speak.The slave-dealer bought us both, and hitched usonto that long chain of his, and we constituted the rearof his procession. We took up our line of march andpassed out of Cambenet at noon; and it seemed to meunaccountably strange and odd that the King of England and his chief minister, marching manacled andfettered and yoked, in a slave convoy, could move byall manner of idle men and women, and under windowswhere sat the sweet and the lovely, and yet neverattract a curious eye, never provoke a single remark.Dear, dear, it only shows that there is nothing divinerabout a king than there is about a tramp, after all.He is just a cheap and hollow artificiality when youdon't know he is a king. But reveal his quality, anddear me it takes your very breath away to look at him.I reckon we are all fools. Born so, no doubt.