【英文读物】The Clansman.docx

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1、【英文读物】The ClansmanTO THE READER“The Clansman” is the second book of a series of historical novels planned on the Race Conflict. “The Leopards Spots” was the statement in historical outline of the conditions from the enfranchisement of the negro to his disfranchisement.“The Clansman” develops the tru

2、e story of the “Ku Klux Klan Conspiracy,” which overturned the Reconstruction rgime.The organization was governed by the Grand Wizard Commander-in-Chief, who lived at Memphis, Tennessee. The Grand Dragon commanded a State, the Grand Titan a Congressional District, the Grand Giant a County, and the G

3、rand Cyclops a Township Den. The twelve volumes of Government reports on the famous Klan refer chiefly to events which occurred after 1870, the date of its dissolution.The chaos of blind passion that followed Lincolns assassination is inconceivable to-day. The revolution it produced in our Governmen

4、t, and the bold attempt of Thaddeus Stevens to Africanize ten great States of the American union, read now like tales from “The Arabian Nights.”I have sought to preserve in this romance both the letter and the spirit of this remarkable period. The men who enact the drama of fierce revenge into which

5、 375 I have woven a double love story are historical figures. I have merely changed their names without taking a liberty with any essential historic fact.In the darkest hour of the life of the South, when her wounded people lay helpless amid rags and ashes under the beak and talon of the Vulture, su

6、ddenly from the mists of the mountains appeared a white cloud the size of a mans hand. It grew until its mantle of mystery enfolded the stricken earth and sky. An “Invisible Empire” had risen from the field of Death and challenged the Visible to mortal combat.How the young South, led by the reincarn

7、ated souls of the Clansmen of Old Scotland, went forth under this cover and against overwhelming odds, daring exile, imprisonment, and a felons death, and saved the life of a people, forms one of the most dramatic chapters in the history of the Aryan race.Thomas Dixon, Jr.Dixondale, Va.December 14,

8、1904.Book IThe Assassination CHAPTER I The Bruised ReedThe fair girl who was playing a banjo and singing to the wounded soldiers suddenly stopped, and, turning to the surgeon, whispered:“Whats that?”“It sounds like a mob”With a common impulse they moved to the open window of the hospital and listene

9、d.On the soft spring air came the roar of excited thousands sweeping down the avenue from the Capitol toward the White House. Above all rang the cries of struggling newsboys screaming an “Extra.” One of them darted around the corner, his shrill voice quivering with excitement:“Extra! Extra! Peace! V

10、ictory!”Windows were suddenly raised, women thrust their heads out, and others rushed into the street and crowded around the boy, struggling to get his papers. He threw them right and left and snatched the moneyno one asked for change. Without ceasing rose his cry: 4“Extra! Peace! Victory! Lee has s

11、urrendered!”At last the end had come.The great North, with its millions of sturdy people and their exhaustless resources, had greeted the first shot on Sumter with contempt and incredulity. A few regiments went forward for a months outing to settle the trouble. The Thirteenth Brooklyn marched gayly

12、Southward on a thirty days jaunt, with pieces of rope conspicuously tied to their muskets with which to bring back each man a Southern prisoner to be led in a noose through the streets on their early triumphant return! It would be unkind to tell what became of those ropes when they suddenly started

13、back home ahead of the scheduled time from the first battle of Bull Run.People from the South, equally wise, marched gayly North, to whip five Yankees each before breakfast, and encountered unforeseen difficulties.Both sides had things to learn, and learned them in a school whose logic is finala fou

14、r years course in the University of Hellthe scream of eagles, the howl of wolves, the bay of tigers, the roar of lionsall locked in Deaths embrace, and each mad scene lit by the glare of volcanoes of savage passions!But the long agony was over.The city bells began to ring. The guns of the forts join

15、ed the chorus, and their deep steel throats roared until the earth trembled.Just across the street a mother who was reading the fateful news turned and suddenly clasped a boy to her 5 heart, crying for joy. The last draft of half a million had called for him.The Capital of the Nation was shaking off

16、 the long nightmare of horror and suspense. More than once the city had shivered at the mercy of those daring men in gray, and the reveille of their drums had startled even the President at his desk.Again and again had the destiny of the Republic hung on the turning of a hair, and in every crisis, L

17、uck, Fate, God, had tipped the scale for the union.A procession of more than five hundred Confederate deserters, who had crossed the lines in groups, swung into view, marching past the hospital, indifferent to the tumult. Only a nominal guard flanked them as they shuffled along, tired, ragged, and d

18、irty. The gray in their uniforms was now the colour of clay. Some had on blue pantaloons, some, blue vests, others blue coats captured on the field of blood. Some had pieces of carpet, and others old bags around their shoulders. They had been passing thus for weeks. Nobody paid any attention to them

19、.“One of the secrets of the surrender!” exclaimed Doctor Barnes. “Mr. Lincoln has been at the front for the past weeks with offers of peace and mercy, if they would lay down their arms. The great soul of the President, even the genius of Lee could not resist. His smile began to melt those gray ranks

20、 as the sun is warming the earth to-day.”“You are a great admirer of the President,” said the girl, with a curious smile. 6“Yes, Miss Elsie, and so are all who know him.”She turned from the window without reply. A shadow crossed her face as she looked past the long rows of cots, on which rested the

21、men in blue, until her eyes found one on which lay, alone among his enemies, a young Confederate officer.The surgeon turned with her toward the man.“Will he live?” she asked.“Yes, only to be hung.”“For what?” she cried.“Sentenced by court-martial as a guerilla. Its a lie, but theres some powerful ha

22、nd back of itsome mysterious influence in high authority. The boy wasnt fully conscious at the trial.”“We must appeal to Mr. Stanton.”“As well appeal to the devil. They say the order came from his office.”“A boy of nineteen!” she exclaimed. “Its a shame. Im looking for his mother. You told me to tel

23、egraph to Richmond for her.”“Yes, Ill never forget his cries that night, so utterly pitiful and childlike. Ive heard many a cry of pain, but in all my life nothing so heartbreaking as that boy in fevered delirium talking to his mother. His voice is one of peculiar tenderness, penetrating and musical

24、. It goes quivering into your soul, and compels you to listen until you swear its your brother or sweetheart or sister or mother calling you. You should have seen him the day he fell. God of mercies, the pity and the glory of it!”“YOUR BROTHER SPRANG FORWARD AND CAUGHT HIM IN HIS ARMS.”7“Phil wrote

25、me that he was a hero and asked me to look after him. Were you there?”“Yes, with the battery your brother was supporting. He was the colonel of a shattered rebel regiment lying just in front of us before Petersburg. Richmond was doomed, resistance was madness, but there they were, ragged and half st

26、arved, a handful of men, not more than four hundred, but their bayonets gleamed and flashed in the sunlight. In the face of a murderous fire he charged and actually drove our men out of an entrenchment. We concentrated our guns on him as he crouched behind this earthwork. Our own men lay outside in

27、scores, dead, dying, and wounded. When the fire slacked, we could hear their cries for water.“Suddenly this boy sprang on the breastwork. He was dressed in a new gray colonels uniform that mother of his, in the pride of her soul, had sent him.“He was a handsome figuretall, slender, straight, a gorge

28、ous yellow sash tasselled with gold around his waist, his sword flashing in the sun, his slouch hat cocked on one side and an eagles feather in it.“We thought he was going to lead another charge, but just as the battery was making ready to fire he deliberately walked down the embankment in a hail of

29、 musketry and began to give water to our wounded men.“Every gun ceased firing, and we watched him. He walked back to the trench, his naked sword flashed suddenly above that eagles feather, and his grizzled ragamuffins sprang forward and charged us like so many demons. 8“There were not more than thre

30、e hundred of them now, but on they came, giving that hellish rebel yell at every jumpthe cry of the hunter from the hilltop at the sight of his game! All Southern men are hunters, and that cry was transformed in war into something unearthly when it came from a hundred throats in chorus and the game

31、was human.“Of course, it was madness. We blew them down that hill like chaff before a hurricane. When the last man had staggered back or fallen, on came this boy alone, carrying the colours he had snatched from a falling soldier, as if he were leading a million men to victory.“A bullet had blown his

32、 hat from his head, and we could see the blood streaming down the side of his face. He charged straight into the jaws of one of our guns. And then, with a smile on his lips and a dare to death in his big brown eyes, he rammed that flag into the cannons mouth, reeled, and fell! A cheer broke from our

33、 men.“Your brother sprang forward and caught him in his arms, and as we bent over the unconscious form, he exclaimed: My God, doctor, look at him! He is so much like me I feel as if I had been shot myself! They were as much alike as twinsonly his hair was darker. I tell you, Miss Elsie, its a sin to

34、 kill men like that. One such man is worth more to this nation than every negro that ever set his flat foot on this continent!”The girls eyes had grown dim as she listened to the story.“I will appeal to the President,” she said firmly.“Its the only chance. And just now he is under 9 tremendous press

35、ure. His friendly order to the Virginia Legislature to return to Richmond, Stanton forced him to cancel. A master hand has organized a conspiracy in Congress to crush the President. They curse his policy of mercy as imbecility, and swear to make the South a second Poland. Their watchwords are vengea

36、nce and confiscation. Four fifths of his party in Congress are in this plot. The President has less than a dozen real friends in either House on whom he can depend. They say that Stanton is to be given a free hand, and that the gallows will be busy. This cancelled order of the President looks like i

37、t.”“Ill try my hand with Mr. Stanton,” she said with slow emphasis.“Good luck, Little Sisterlet me know if I can help,” the surgeon answered cheerily as he passed on his round of work.Elsie Stoneman took her seat beside the cot of the wounded Confederate and began softly to sing and play.A little fa

38、rther along the same row a soldier was dying, a faint choking just audible in his throat. An attendant sat beside him and would not leave till the last. The ordinary chat and hum of the ward went on indifferent to peace, victory, life, or death. Before the finality of the hospital all other events o

39、f earth fade. Some were playing cards or checkers, some laughing and joking, and others reading.At the first soft note from the singer the games ceased, and the reader put down his book.The banjo had come to Washington with the negroes 10 following the wake of the army. She had laid aside her guitar

40、 and learned to play all the stirring camp songs of the South. Her voice was low, soothing, and tender. It held every silent listener in a spell.As she played and sang the songs the wounded man loved, her eyes lingered in pity on his sun-bronzed face, pinched and drawn with fever. He was sleeping th

41、e stupid sleep that gives no rest. She could count the irregular pounding of his heart in the throb of the big vein on his neck. His lips were dry and burnt, and the little boyish moustache curled upward from the row of white teeth as if scorched by the fiery breath.He began to talk in flighty sente

42、nces, and she listenedhis motherhis sisterand yes, she was sure as she bent nearera little sweetheart who lived next door. They all had sweetheartsthese Southern boys. Again he was teasing his dogand then back in battle.At length he opened his eyes, great dark-brown eyes, unnaturally bright, with a

43、strange yearning look in their depths as they rested on Elsie. He tried to smile and feebly said:“Heresaflyonmyleftearmygunscantsomehow reachhimwontyou”She sprang forward and brushed the fly away.Again he opened his eyes.“Excusemeforaskingbut am I alive?”“Yes, indeed,” was the cheerful answer.“Well,

44、 now, then, is this me, or is it not me, or has a cannon shot me, or has the devil got me?”“Its you. The cannon didnt shoot you, but three 11 muskets did. The devil hasnt got you yet, but he will unless youre good.”“Ill be good if you wont leave me”Elsie turned her head away smiling, and he went on

45、slowly:“But Im dead, I know. Im sleeping on a cot with a canopy over it. I aint hungry any more, and an angel has been hovering over me playing on a harp of gold”“Only a little Yankee girl playing the banjo.”“Cant fool meIm in heaven.”“Youre in the hospital.”“Funny hospitallook at that harp and that

46、 big trumpet hanging close by itthats Gabriels trumpet”“No,” she laughed. “This is the Patent Office building, that covers two blocks, now a temporary hospital. There are seventy thousand wounded soldiers in town, and more coming on every train. The thirty-five hospitals are overcrowded.”He closed h

47、is eyes a moment in silence, and then spoke with a feeble tremor:“Im afraid you dont know who I amI cant impose on youIm a rebel”“Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It makes no difference to me now which side you fought on.”“Well, Im in heavenbeen dead a long time. I can prove it, if youll pl

48、ay again.”“What shall I play?”“First, O Jonny Booker Help dis Nigger.”She played and sang it beautifully. 12“Now, Wake Up in the Morning.”Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw nothing except visions within.“Now, then, The Ole Gray Hoss.”As the last notes died away he tried to smile again:“One moreHard Times an Wuss er Comin.”With deft, sure touch and soft negro dialect she sang it through.“N