(Page 19 of 22) - A Connecticut Yankee in Saddam’s Court: Mark Twain on Benevolent Imperialism authored by Johnson, Joel.

nobles must be neutralized; but as Hank notes, “English knights can be killed, but then
cannot be conquered” (265). The only way to save Britain from its oppressive ruling
class is to wage outright war against that body, the source of its fatal superstitions. Hank
frames his battle with Sir Sagramor as a death struggle between “hard unsentimental
common sense and reason” and “frivolous black arts.” He enters the tournament “to
either destroy knight-errantry or be its victim” (234). The Battle of the Sand Belt is
simply a magnified version of this earlier duel. Both were massacres of a sort, yet both
were, in Hank’s mind, the necessary actions for saving the people of Camelot. The
Church and nobility were the twin cancers that needed excising before the body politic
could flourish, and Hank was the only person with the technical expertise to perform the
surgery. Only with the oppressors removed could this “nation of worms” become a
nation of men (39).

Many have commented on the tremendous number of casualties Hank inflicts

during the final battle, and his self-satisfaction in carrying out such a gigantic slaughter
(30,000 knights dead). What, if anything, separates Hank from Robespierre and his
guillotine, or even Hitler and his gas chambers?

Such comparisons are not groundless.

In fact, Hank’s cadets become squeamish at the notion that they will be waging war
against all of England. Even to these fully assembled products of man factories, Hank’s
scheme borders on murderous insanity. Hank quickly assuages their fears, however, by
noting that their quarrel is not with all of England, but with the vanguard of the
approaching host. Once the knights are eliminated, Hank argues, “the civilian multitude
in the rear will retire, to meet business engagements elsewhere” (262). On the anti-
imperialist interpretation, this is just another example of Hank’s hubris, but Hank does
seem to have been correct. While after the climactic battle there is still talk of the enemy
regrouping, no mass attack follows the destruction of the knights.

It is curious how Twain describes Hank’s wounding at the end of the book. In his

later critique of General Funston, Twain had focused on how Funston had appealed for
aid from his enemy just before striking him down, and what a grievous wrong that had
been. Something quite similar happens to Hank. After the smoke clears from the
battlefield, Hank convinces Clarence to go out and see if they can help the enemy’s
wounded. One knight appeals for help, and Hank leans over to assist him. The knight
seizes the opportunity and promptly stabs him. Had the knight merely been playing dead,
this incident would be far less noteworthy, from a moral point of view. After all, history
has always been witness to treachery. However, this special form of treachery says much
about the person (and culture) who commits it, and underscores the notion that Hank is
justifiably crusading against English chivalry.

Twain, if this interpretation is correct, is hardly one to shy away from warfare, if

the benefits to humanity are great enough. In an 1887 letter to Howells discussing the
French Revolution, Twain flatly declares “I am a Sansculotte!—And not a pale,
characterless Sansculotte, but a Marat.”

In a later note to Howells regarding

Connecticut Yankee, he writes:

I am glad you approve of what I say about the French Revolution. Few people
will. It is odd that even to this day Americans still observe that immortal

See Catherine and Michael Zuckert, “‘And In Its Wake We Followed,” 87 n. 83.

Mark Twain to William Dean Howells, August 22, 1887, Mark Twain’s Letters, 2: 490.