Chapter 2 Chapter One

Dedicated to Álvaro Mutis, under whose inspiration this book was written. What happened to me in my life seemed to be a coincidence. Jose Palacios, his longest-serving servant, saw him floating in the purified water of the bathtub, naked and with his eyes open, and he almost thought he had drowned.He knows it's one of the ways he thinks, but the way he's lying on his back in ecstasy feels like he's out of this world.Jose Palacios did not dare to disturb him, but called him in a low voice.For the general ordered him to wake him before five o'clock, so that he could start at dawn.The general regained consciousness and collected himself.In the shadows, the general saw his steward's blue shining eyes, squirrel-coloured curls, calm, fearless, and somewhat dignified.As every day, the butler held in his hand a small cup of decoction made of poppies mixed with gum.Holding feebly the edge of the bathtub with both hands, the general rushed out of the herbal water like a dolphin.It was unimaginable that his body was so weak.

"Let's go," he said, "get out of here as soon as possible, no one likes us here." Jose Palacios had heard the general say more than once on various occasions about leaving.Although the horses were ready in the stables and the entourage began to gather, he still did not believe it was true.José Palacios dried him off and put a shawl worn by people in alpine regions on his naked body, because the general's hands were shivering with the cold holding the medicine cup.He had put on chamois trousers a few months ago.The trousers he only wore at those lavish parties at night in Lima.The reason why he wears it now is because the general found that with the weight loss, his stature gradually became shorter, and even his whole body changed.His body became pale and weak, his head and hands were dark and shriveled from the long exposure to the wind and sun in the wild.He just turned 46 in July, but his crisp Caribbean curls are out of shape.Premature aging had deformed his bones, and his general state of health looked so bad that it seemed that he would never live until next July.But even so, his firm demeanor did not seem to be tortured to such a pathetic degree by life as his body.He kept walking back and forth, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.He drank the cup of hot soup in five gulps, almost scalding his tongue to blisters.He stood up from the wet mats that were strewn across the floor, as if he had just drunk life-saving soup.But he didn't say a word until the clock tower nearby struck five.

"Today is May 8, 1830, the day in history when the English shot Juana de Arco with an arrow," said the butler. "It has been raining since three o'clock in the morning." "It has been raining since three o'clock in the morning in the seventeenth century." The general said, his tone was slow, as if he was still disturbed by the sour smell of insomnia.Then he added gravely, "I didn't hear the rooster crowing." "There's no chicken here," Jose Palacios added. "There is nothing here," said the general. "This is where the heathen live."

At this time they were in Santa Fe de Bogota at an altitude of 2,600 meters. The biting cold wind was blowing in from the hard-to-close windows on the bare walls, and it was hard for anyone's body to resist.Jose Palacios first placed the meerschaum shaving tray on the marble dresser, and then brought a red velvet case full of shaving utensils, all apparently gilded.He put the candlestick on the wall table beside the mirror, so that the General could see it more clearly.He moved the brazier over and roasted the general's feet.Then he handed the general the spectacles with square lenses and silver frames, which he kept in the pocket of his fur vest.The general put on his spectacles and shaved his face with the razor in alternating hands, for he was born with the same dexterity.With the same pair of hands, the front end-a medicine cup felt strenuous for a few minutes, but at this moment the movement of shaving was surprisingly quick.He paced the room, feeling his way to finish shaving, trying to avoid the mirror, lest he see his own eyes there.Then he pulled the nose hair and ear hair with his hands, brushed the perfect teeth with a delicate silver-handled bristle brush dipped in charcoal, and then trimmed his fingernails and toenails.Finally, he took off the shawl, sprinkled a large bottle of perfume on his body, and rubbed his hands all over his body until he was exhausted.His ruthless energy seemed more violent than usual that dawn as he practiced personal hygiene, as if at daily mass, in an attempt to purify body and soul of twenty years of futile war, and political life. miserable experience.

The last imitator he received was Manuela Saenz the night before, the sophisticated Quito woman who loved him but would never follow him until death took him.As always, she just stayed in Bogotá and kept the General informed of what had happened there while the General was away.This was her mission, because for a long time, the general trusted no one but her.He entrusted to her safekeeping several holy objects, which were of no value except that they had once belonged to him.In addition, he gave her some of his most precious bookcases and two boxes of personal archive material.The day before, during a brief formal farewell.He said to her, "I love you very much. If you were more sensible than usual now. I would love you even more."

During their eight years of passionate love, he had sworn to her countless times to express his love for her, and now she thought his words were just another expression.Among all the people who knew him well, she was the only one who believed what he said at this moment.He is really leaving.But she was also the one who least believed that he would come back. They did not want to see each other again before the general departed, but the landlady, Donna Amalia, hoped that they would meet quietly at last to say goodbye.In order not to let the orthodox locals gossip, she let Manuela enter through the stable gate in a cavalry outfit.This is not because they are cheating.No, on the contrary, they never hide their relationship, which is well known.So that was done in order to find ways to protect the reputation of that family.The general was even more careful, and he told José Palacios not to close the door of the adjacent hall, because it was the only way for the domestic servants, and the adjutants played cards in the hall until Manuel Long after La left.Manuela read to the general for two hours.Until recently she had been very young and pretty, and now she was getting fatter with age.She was smoking a seaman's pipe, and she was sprinkled with verbena water, which gave off a pleasant scent, a kind of military shampoo.Dressed in men's clothes, she went in and out among the soldiers, but her hoarse voice was still so lingering when she confided her love in the dark.Manuela read aloud to the general by the dim light of a candle, sitting on a large sofa, on which was still the emblem of the last viceroy.The general was lying on the bed in civilian clothes, covered with a camel-hair cape, listening to her reading, knowing only by the rhythm of his breathing that he was not asleep.The book Manuela read was "News and Rumors from Lima in A.D." by Noel Casadillasma, a Peruvian.Manuela reads the book in an actor's voice, bringing out the author's style to the fullest.

She kept reading, and the sound of her reading could be heard from time to time in the sleeping house.But after the last patrol, there was a burst of unanimous laughter from many men, which made the dogs in the den bark.The general opened his eyes, more surprised than disturbed.Manuela closed the book, put it on her lap, and spread the pages with her thumbs. "It's your friends," she said to him. "I have no friends," said he, "oh, and if there are a few by chance, they certainly won't be with me for long." "No, they are watching outside, they are guarding your life."

That's how the general learned that the whole city was buzzing: he was facing not one but several plots to kill him.His last supporters guard the house, trying to prevent the assassination plot from succeeding.Hussars and grenadiers guarded the vestibule and the corridors around the indoor garden.They were all Venezuelans, and they were going to accompany him to the port of Cartagena to go to Europe on a light sailboat.When Manuela finished reading, there were already two people reclined at the door of the general's bedroom with their bedrolls spread out, while the adjutants continued to play cards in the adjacent hall.Due to the unknown origin of many soldiers, good and bad people mixed together, all kinds of people, there is no safety at this time, and unfortunate things may happen from time to time.Facing adversity and bad news coming from time to time, the general remained calm.He gestured for Manuela to read on.

He had always regarded death as an irretrievable professional adventure.He has commanded countless battles on the battlefield of bullets and bullets, but he has never scratched his skin.He was so calm in the heat of battle, so unbelievably cool-headed, that his officers thought he was convinced he was invulnerable.Time and time again he escaped plots to kill him, several times by not sleeping in his own bed.He often moves on his own without guards, no matter where he goes, what to eat, what to drink, he never worries.Only Manuela knows that his carelessness is not due to his ignorance and recklessness, nor is it because he is a fatalist, but because he is sadly convinced that he must die in his own bed, poor and naked, and have to die. Without the understanding of the people.

He suffers from insomnia, and the only noticeable change in him is that he doesn't take a hot bath before going to bed the night before going to bed.In order to restore his body and make it easier to cough up phlegm, Jose Palacios had already prepared herbal water and kept it at a moderate temperature.so that he may bathe at any time.But he doesn't want to take a bath.To deal with his habitual constipation, he took two laxatives and dozed off for a while to lullaby to the rosy tales of Lima that Manuela had read.But he suddenly coughed for no reason, and the sound of coughing seemed to shake the foundation of the house.The officers who were playing cards in the hall next to them were all overwhelmed.One of them, an Irish officer named Belfort Elton Wilson, leaned over the bedroom to see if the general had any orders.He saw the general lying on the bed sideways, as if he was desperately trying to spit out all his internal organs.Manuela held his head so his mouth was facing the potty.Jose Palacios, the only one allowed to enter the bedroom without knocking, stood by the bed.On alert until the crisis is over.At this time, the general's eyes were filled with tears, he took a deep breath, pointed to the dressing table and said, "It's all the fault of these flowers."

As usual, the General was able to find unexpected culprits for his misfortunes, although Nuella knew this better than anyone, so she gestured to Jose Palacios to let him Take away the vase with the tuberose that faded in the morning.The general lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, and Manuela continued reading in the same tone, until when she thought he had fallen asleep, she put the book on the bedside table, on his burning forehead After a kiss, she turned and told Jose Palacios in a low voice that at seven o'clock in the morning she would say her last farewell to the general in the "Quadrangle" street, where the road leading to the town of Junda in the province of Lima began.After all this was done, Manuela put on a military cloak and walked softly out of the bedroom.At this moment, the general opened his eyes and said in a weak voice to Jose Palacios, "Tell Wilson to escort her home." Manuela thought it would be more convenient to go alone than to be escorted by a team of gunmen, but Wilson ignored him and resolutely carried out the general's order.Jose Palacios went ahead with an oil lamp to lead Manuela to the stables.Next to the stables is an indoor garden with a stone spring, where the first tuberoses have burst into bloom in the morning.The rain had stopped, and the wind had stopped howling among the trees, but not a single star could be seen in the icy night sky.In order not to disturb the sentry lying on the mat in the corridor, Colonel Belfort Wilson kept repeating the night password.Passing through the hall windows, Sergeant Palacios saw that the landlady was having coffee with some friends, soldiers and citizens, who were going to wait there until the general departed. When Jose Palacios returned to his bedroom, he saw the general talking in his sleep.He spoke incoherently, and he summed it up in one sentence: "God knows what's going on?" He was burning hot and farting continuously.By the next day, even the general himself couldn't tell if he was dreaming or talking nonsense, not to mention he had forgotten those words.He himself called that fever "going mad."People have become accustomed to his illness.He has been ill for more than four years, and no doctor has dared to try to give a scientific explanation.Strange to say, on the second day after the onset, he completely recovered his reason, and everything was as usual.Jose Palacios wrapped him in a blanket, put the oil lamp on the marble dresser, and walked out of the bedroom.He left the door open so that he could continue to watch over him in the adjacent hall.He knew that the general would wake up at any moment at dawn, get out of bed and take a herbal bath, trying to restore his physical strength exhausted by the torment of the disease and the horror of the nightmare in the urn. It was the last of the earth-shattering events of the day when a garrison of 789 hussars and grenadiers mutinied, supposedly in protest of three months' unpaid pay.And the real reason is this: Most of them are Venezuelans, many of them have experienced many battles and liberated four countries, but in recent weeks, they have suffered so much abuse and provocation in the streets and alleys that it is completely unreasonable The reason was to worry about his own fate after the general went abroad.The mutinous troops demanded 70,000 pesos, which was settled by paying travel expenses and 1,000 pesos.At dusk, the mutiny troops marched to their homeland.Followed by a group of women who are in charge of transportation to Chongqing are chaotic, some of them are holding children, some are leading livestock.The thumping of the military band's big drums and the ticking of steel pipe instruments could not suppress the shouts of the chaotic crowd barking dogs and throwing mines and firecrackers to disturb their pace. This scene has never been seen by any enemy army never appeared. Eleven years ago, when the Spanish rule of three centuries came to an end, the tyrannical Doge Juan Samano also fled along these streets disguised as pilgrims, but what he took away was a Big boxes filled with golden icons, unprocessed emeralds, sacred birds, and sparkling glass butterflies from the town of Muso, Boyaca Province, etc., and some people stood on the balcony and wept for him, Throw a bouquet of flowers to him, and sincerely wish him a safe voyage at sea. The General secretly participated in the negotiations for the settlement of the conflict from the house he was renting which belonged to the Secretary of the Army and the Navy.In the end, he sent his nephew and his confidant, José Laurencio Silva, to take the rebels away on the condition that they stop causing trouble before they entered the Venezuelan border.He did not see the rebels marching past under his balcony, but he heard the trumpets and bongos of the marching band, and the clamor of the people thronging the streets.He didn't hear what people were shouting.He didn't take it too seriously, and while his scribe read the late letters, he dictated a letter to Bolivia's president, General Don Andres de Santa Cruz.In this letter, he announced that he would give up power, but he was not very sure whether he would travel abroad. "I will never write a letter again in my life," he wrote at the end of the letter.Later, he was sweating profusely during his nap, and in his dream he seemed to hear the shouts of riots in the distance, and then he was awakened by a sound that seemed like a bamboo bomb, whether it was the shouts of rebels or fireworks Carpenter is lighting firecrackers, no one can tell.But when he asked about it, people told him that it was firecrackers during the festival. "Today is a holiday my general." The answer was so short that no one, not even José Palacios, dared to explain to him what holiday it was. It was not until late in the evening that Manuela told him the truth, and it dawned on him that it was his political opponents, what he called the rebellious party, who incited the artisans of all trades to rise up against him in the streets, and that The people stood aside to watch the excitement.It was a Friday, during the market, which made it easier for his political enemies to create chaos in the Grand Place.A thunderstorm and unprecedentedly rapid rain dispersed the rioters at dusk, but the damage was irreparable.The students of the San Tolomé Polytechnic stormed the offices of the Supreme Court of the country with lightning speed, forcing the judges to indict the general.They stabbed a portrait of the general the size of the general himself with bayonets and threw it from the balcony.It was an oil painting, by an old standard-bearer in the army of the Liberators.Chicha-drunk crowds ransacked Royal Street shops and suburban pubs that didn't close in time, and shot a sawdust-stuffed general in the square for not wearing buttons with glittering gold People can recognize who they are at a glance.They accused him of secretly fomenting a military rebellion in a vain attempt to reclaim the power he had held for 12 years, a regime that has now been abolished by a unanimous parliamentary vote.They accused him of being president for life, and eventually a European prince would succeed him.They also accused him of leaving the country in a foreign dress when he actually wanted to go to the Venezuelan border, from where he would plot to lead a rebel resurgence and regain power.All kinds of slogans, leaflets, and headless notices satirizing and cursing him were all plastered on the walls of the street.His most public supporters have been hiding in other people's homes at this time, waiting for things to calm down before showing up.The newspapers of his chief rival, Francisco de Paula Santander, took advantage of rumors of his ill-determined illness and his constant claims of emigration.Calling it pure political deceit to get people to keep him.That night, while Manuela Saenz was telling him the details of the events of that stormy day, the acting president's soldiers were trying to brush away a sign written in charcoal on the wall of the archbishop's mansion: " Don't go, and don't die." The general said with a long sigh after he understood everything. "Looks like things are bad, and I'm even worse. These things happened another block away from me, and I thought it was a holiday." In fact, not even his closest friends believed he would leave the country.They believed neither that he would give up power nor that he would leave the country.The city was too small, and the people in it were narrow-minded and only liked to pay attention to trivial matters, so they didn't see the two big loopholes in his uncertain decision to leave.He did not have enough money to go anywhere with such a large entourage, and since he had been President of the Republic he could only leave the country after a year of government approval, and so far he had not even thought of applying.His public orders to pack up were for anyone who would be fooled, and not even José Palacios would have taken that as evidence of his determination to go.In the past, he ran away in order to dress up, and even demolished the house, but in fact it was just an effective political trick.His military aides felt that he had been desperate for the last year.However, such situations have happened frequently, and maybe one day, people will see him suddenly cheer up and return to life with unprecedented determination and enthusiasm.Jose Palacios has been watching these unpredictable changes by his side, and he often said that "my master's thoughts, only he knows." The general's proclamation of renouncing power has been codified into a folk song, and he expresses this thought in an ambiguous statement as early as in his swearing-in speech: "The first day I found peace, the My last day in power." He made such declarations many times in later years, and under very similar circumstances, so that it is never possible to tell when he is telling the truth.The most sensational time was on the night of September 25 a few years ago, when someone assassinated him in the bedroom of his official residence, and he escaped from the assassination plot again.A delegation from parliament visited him at dawn after spending six hours under a bridge without any warm clothing.They saw him wrapped in a blanket and standing with his feet in a basin of hot water.But at the time he was depressed less with fever than with disillusionment.He announced to them that he would not pursue the assassination plot nor interrogate anyone, and that the parliament scheduled for the new year would be held immediately to elect a new president of the republic. "After this," he concluded, "I will leave Columbia forever." That being said, the assassination plot was investigated, the criminals were tried with iron law, and 14 people were shot in the Grand Place.The Constituent Assembly, scheduled for January 2, was postponed for 16 months, and the president's resignation was never mentioned.However, during this period, no foreigners visited.No friends came to meet him, even friends who passed by by chance.Even if a friend came to visit, he would not talk about it. "I'm going where people love me." The news that the General was terminally ill was made public also was not a clear sign that he was going to leave.No one doubted his illness.On the contrary, since his recent return from the southern battles, all those who saw him pass under the floral arches thought with astonishment that he had come back to find his final home.He did not ride his historic war horse called "White Dove", but a bare donkey covered with mats.His head was covered with silver threads, his forehead was wrinkled, and his uniform was filthy, with one sleeve unraveled.All the glory and pride of the past had faded from him.That night, at the gala held in his honor at the government residence, he was sullen and taciturn.No one knew whether he was motivated by political malice or a momentary distraction when he greeted one minister by another's name. His demeanor that the candle of his life was dying was not enough to make one believe that he would leave.For six years it had been rumored that he was going to see God, but he had always been in command of himself.The first such legend was brought by a British naval officer.He met him by chance in the large desert of Pativel, north of Lima, when the war for the liberation of the South was in full swing.He saw him lying on the floor of a rough hut which had been temporarily used as headquarters, wrapped in a military overcoat and with a rag on his head, for the bitter midday chill was too chilling for him. People are unbearable.He didn't even have the strength to raise his hand to drive away the hens that were pecking around him.After a difficult conversation amid the occasional attacks of madness, he sent his visitors away with dramatic and heartrending words: "Go and tell the world how you saw me on this untidy beach died among the hens." It is said that he suffered from sunstroke caused by the desert sun.It is also said that he almost died in Guayaquil, and that death beckoned him again in Quito. The most terrible manifestation of his stomach fever was his loss of interest in world affairs and his spirit was strangely quiet.No one knows what scientific basis these rumors have, because he never believes what doctors say, but diagnoses and prescribes medicines for himself based on the "Self-Healing Manual" written by a Frenchman named Donostier.In fact, it was a local place spread in the French countryside. Wherever he went, Jose Palacios would bring him there, as if it were a book of oracle, which could explain and cure any disease of the body and soul. . In short, nothing could have been more fruitful than his death throes.People thought that he would die of illness in the great desert of Pativelca, but he crossed the majestic Andes again, won the battle of Junin⑤, and completely liberated the whole of Spain with the final victory in the battle of Ayacu⑥Jo America, the Republic of Bolivia is established.In Lima, he was even more intoxicated by the unprecedented glory and was full of ambition, but he never climbed to the peak of similar honor in the future.Therefore, although he has repeatedly declared that he will give up power to travel abroad due to serious illness, and has made various arrangements in a serious manner, in the eyes of most people, it is nothing more than a clumsy repetition of old tricks. Shortly after returning from the battlefield, he took Antonio Jose de Sucre by the arm of Marshal Antonio José de Sucre after a verbal government meeting. "Please stay." Then he took him to his private office - where he only received a select few people - and almost forced Sucre to sit in his special big armchair. "Now this position is not so much mine as it is yours." His friend, the generalissimo of Ayacucho, knew the situation of the country like the back of his hand, but the general gave a detailed account of the tasks he faced in order to achieve his goals.Within a few days, a Constituent Assembly must be held, the President of the Republic must be elected and a new constitution must be passed, and every effort must be made to save the unity of the American continent. Although this is a golden dream, let’s treat it as a dead horse for the time being.Peru, in the hands of a regressive aristocracy, seemed lost forever.Andrés de Santa Cruz led the troops along his own route to Bolivia.Jose, Venezuela under General Antonio Paez has just declared self-government.General Juan Jose Flores, commander of the south, united Guayaquil and Quito to form the independent Republic of Ecuador.The first germ of a unified, vast fatherland, the Republic of Colombia, shrunk down to the size of the former Governor-General of New Granada.The 16 million Americans who had just lived a free life fell again under the clutches of local warlords. "In short," said the general conclusively, "what we have created with our hands is being trampled under by others." "This is a mockery of fate," Marshal Sucre said, "just as we planted the seeds of our ideals of independence, these peoples are now trying their best to fight for independence from each other." After hearing this.The general reacted violently. "You don't have to repeat the nonsense of the enemy," he said, "even if it's true." Seeing the general getting angry, Marshal Sucre hurriedly apologized for what he said.He was clever and methodical, yet timid and superstitious.His expression was so gentle that he didn't even cover up the pockmarks on his face left by smallpox.The General loves him very much, but calls him false humility.He was a hero at the Battles of Pichincha, Tumusla and Tarki.At the tender age of 29, he commanded the glorious Battle of Ayacucho, which destroyed the last Spanish bastion in South America.In addition to these illustrious achievements, he was particularly notable for his victorious kindness and political activism.At that time, he gave up all his posts, did not wear any military sash, and only wore a black woolen coat that reached to his feet, and his collar was always turned up to block the sharp knife-like cold wind blowing from the nearby mountains.According to his wishes, his promise to the country, his final oath, is that he will participate in the Constituent Assembly as a member of Quito.He is 35 years old and his body is as solid as a rock.He is madly in love with the Marquis of Solanda, Mariana Casselen.It was a beautiful and vivacious Quito woman, almost a girl.They got married two years ago and now have a daughter who is one and a half years old. The general couldn't think of a better candidate to replace him as president of the republic. He knew that Sucre was five years shy of the legal age. into the provisions of the Constitution.Nevertheless, he undertook secret activities and made every effort to amend that clause. "Please accept my proposal," the general said to him, "I will stay as generalissimo and serve and run for the government like a bull around a herd of cows." At this moment he looked so tired, but determined But convincing.However, the Marshal knew long ago that the general's large armchair would never be his.When the General first offered him the presidency not long ago, he said that he was absolutely incapable of governing a country whose system and future were already in danger.In his view, the first step in cleaning up the regime should be to remove the military from power.He intends to create a parliament where no general can serve as president for four consecutive years, perhaps to prevent Udaneta from coming to power.But the most powerful opponents of this amendment will be the most powerful generals. “I am too tired to work without a compass,” Sucre said. “Besides, Your Excellency knows as well as I do that what is needed here is not a president, but someone who subdues the rebellion.” Of course, the Marshal will attend the Constituent Assembly, and even, if allowed, he will accept the honor of presiding over it.But that's all. Fourteen years of war had taught him that there was no greater victory than surviving.He founded and ruled Bolivia with wise hands, and he will be president of this vast and unexplored country, which made him understand the fickleness of regimes.The calling of his heart made him realize that honor is a dead letter. "I do not want to accept the presidency, sir," concluded the marshal. July 13th is the Feast of San Antonio, and he will return to Quito with his wife and daughter.Not only to celebrate that name day with them, but all the holidays to come, because his resolution to live for them, to live only for their love, had been fixed since Christmas. "That's all I ask of life," he said. The general turned purple with rage. "I thought nothing was going to surprise me," he said, looking the Marshal in the eye. "Is this your last sentence?" "No, this is my penultimate sentence," Sucre said, "My last sentence is, I am forever grateful to you for taking care of me." The general patted his thigh to wake himself up from the unrecoverable dream. "Very well," he said, "you have just made the final decision of my life." Although an interim doctor who calmed his irritability forbade him to take emetics, he took the depressing drug that night and used its effects to draft his resignation letter. On January 26, he arranged for the convening of the Constituent Assembly and delivered his farewell speech.In his speech, he highly praised Marshal Sucre, the president whom he recommended, calling him the general most worthy of accepting this important task.His praise caused a burst of cheers in the parliament, but a member of Congress sitting next to General Urdaneta whispered in his ear: "This means that there is a general who is more suitable to be president than you." The congressman's vicious words pierced General Rafael Urdaneta's heart like two red-hot nails. That's absolutely true.Although General Urdaneta did not have the great military exploits of Marshal Sucre, nor did he have the great charm, but it is unreasonable to think that his talent is not as good as Sucre.His composure and fortitude had been praised by the general himself.He expressed his loyalty and love for the general more deeply in his heart.He was one of the few people in the world who dared to tell the truth to the general.After the general realized his negligence, he tried to amend his speech when it was printed, changing the words "the general who is most worthy of this important task" to "the general who is most worthy of this important task". one".However, this remedy did little to assuage General Urdaneta's resentment towards him. A few days later, at a gathering of generals and lawmakers, Urdaneta accused him of going abroad in the name of going abroad, while in fact he was secretly trying to get re-elected president.Three years ago, General Jose Antonio Paez seized power in the Venezuelan province by force in the first attempt to secede it from Colombia.So the general went to Caracas to reconcile with General Pais.他们在欢乐的歌声和宏亮的钟声中当众拥抱，破格地在那儿建立一种特殊的制度，答应一切按派斯将军的意志行事。那时，乌达内塔将军说：“灾难开始了。”那种姑息迁就不仅终于恶化了委内瑞拉人同格拉纳达人（11）的关系，而且用分离的病菌感染了格拉纳达人。 “现在，”乌达内塔下结论道，“他能为祖国傲的最好的事情，便是立即放弃他的统治癖，并且流亡到外国去。”将军以同样激烈的方式予以驳斥。但是，乌达内塔是个清廉正直的人，而且口才流畅，热情洋溢，他给所有人留下的印象是：他和将军久远伟大的友谊彻底破裂了。 将军撤回了他的辞呈书，并且在正式总统选出之前，指定堂?多明戈?凯塞多为代理总统。3 月1 日，为了避免遇到正在举着香槟酒向他的继位者祝贺的客人，他从仆人进出的边门离开政府大厦，乘一辆别人的华丽的四轮马车去了富查别墅。这座别墅座落在城郊一条河流的田园诗般的缓流处，是临时总统借给他居住的宅第。一想到他要成为一个普通的公民，呕吐剂对将军的危害也就加重了。他象白日作梦一般要求何塞?帕拉西奥斯为他准备好开始写回忆录的文具。何塞?帕拉西奥斯为他准备了足够写40 年回忆录的墨水和纸张。将军提醒他当抄写员的费尔南多，从下一周的凌晨四时起，他们要尽心地为他服务，履行自己的配责。将军认为凌晨四时是他怀着刻骨的仇恨思考的最佳时间。他多次对侄子说，他打算从他最早的回忆写起。在他刚满三岁时，他在委内瑞拉圣马特奥庄园作了一个梦，梦见一头满嘴金牙的黑骡子闯进他的家，从大厅一直窜到储藏室。当时家人和奴仆们正在睡午觉，那牲畜从容不迫地碰到什么就吃什么，直到把窗帘、地毯、灯、花瓶、餐厅里的器皿和餐具、祭坛上的圣像、衣柜和箱子及其里面盛的一切东西、厨房里的锅、门窗及其绞链和插梢，以及从门廊到卧室的家具全部吃光，唯一完好无损地留下来的是他母亲梳妆台上方的那面椭园形镜子，它正在空中摇摇晃晃。 但是，将军在富查庄园里生活得如此惬意，在飞云乱渡的天空下空气是如此的清新，以致他把写回忆录的事完全置之脑后，迷上了黎明时踏着薄雾到散发着馥郁芳香的田间小径上去散步。在以后的日子去探望过他的人，都感到他身体得到了恢复，情绪也稳定下来。特别是他的最忠实的朋友，那些军人，坚持要他继续呆在总统的职位上，为此他们甚至不惜举行兵变。这对总统也是莫大的安慰。但是他对朋友们说，动用武力保持总统地位是跟他的荣誉不相称的，这使那些军人颇为扫兴。但是，他似乎仍希望议会作出合法决议确认他为总统。何塞?帕拉西奥斯又一次说道。“我的主人想的事情，只有他自己知道。” 曼努埃拉依旧住在离总统官邸圣?卡洛斯宫几步远的地方，全神贯注地观察着大街上的动向。她每周到富查庄园去两三次，如果有急事，则随时到那儿去。每次去她都带着杏仁糖和修道院里的热气腾腾的甜食，以及下午四点钟吃点心时吃的加桂皮的巧克力。她极少带报纸去，因为将军对批评变得如此敏感，以致随便什么一点鸡毛蒜皮的指责都会使他大发雷霆。相反，她总给他讲些政治上的琐事、沙龙里的坑蒙拐骗和闲聊者们的预言。即使那些事情他不喜欢，他也要硬着头皮听下去，因为她是唯一被他允许当面讲真话的人。当她没有许多话好说的时候，他们就一起翻阅信件，或者她读给他听。他们有时候跟副官们一起玩牌。但吃中饭他们总是单独在一起。 他们是八年前在基多一个庆祝解放的豪华舞会上相识的，当时曼努埃拉还是詹姆斯?索恩大夫人的妻子。这位英国大夫是在总督最后统治时期被封为利马贵族的。将军的妻子在27 年前去世。曼努埃拉不仅是自此之后最后一个跟他维持着爱情关系的女人，而且是他的知己，他的档案保管员和声音悦耳动听的朗读者。她以上校衔被吸收进他的参谋部。许久以前，她曾经由于吃醋，险些咬下他的一只耳朵。如今，这样的事情已变成遥远的回忆，但他们最随便的交谈也往往引起仇恨的爆发，而最后则是以绵绵情语相互妥协。曼努埃拉并不留在庄园里过夜。她总是在夜幕降临之前早早回城，尤其是在那个黄昏瞬间即逝的季节。 当年将军在利马的马格达莱纳乡间别墅时，由于跟一些显贵的女人以及和一些身份普普通通的女人同居，他不得不编造些理由将曼努埃拉支开。而眼下在富查别墅的情况却完全相反，他似乎一天没有她都活不下去。他常常站在那儿，遥望着她来的方向。这使何塞?帕拉西奥斯十分恼火，将军隔不一会儿便问他一次时间，隔不一会儿又要他挪动大扶手椅，时不时地让他点燃壁炉，不久却又让他熄灭。将军显得焦躁不安，情绪很坏，直到看见那辆车子在小丘背后出现，脸上才绽开笑容，泛起兴奋的光彩，似乎眼前的生活又充满了希望。但是，当见面超过预计的时间时，他同样显得不耐烦起来。午睡的时候，他们一起上床，但既不关门，也不脱衣服睡觉。他们不止一次试图作爱，但均以失败告终，因为他已力不从心，无法去做那件事了。 那些日子，他的顽固的失眠症使他的情绪失去了平衡。他在口授信件时，往往一个句子没说完他就睡着了，玩牌时亦然。连他自己也弄不清楚那是睡魔突然儿来的缠扰，还是一时的昏厥。但是，他刚一上床，头脑便又异常地清醒起来，直到黎明，他才能艰难地稍稍睡上一会儿，但是立刻又被林间的轻风唤醒。那时，他便不得不把口授回忆录的工作再推迟一个上午，独自一人外出散步，常常要到午饭时才返来。是的，外出不带警卫人员，也不带那两条甚至连上战场都常常跟着他的忠实的狗，自然，也没骑他骁勇的战马，因为他为了攒钱出国，已经把它们卖给轻骑兵了。他披着小羊驼毛的斗蓬挡住平原上冰冷刺骨的寒风，穿着带羊毛衬里的新皮靴，戴着以前睡觉用的绿丝绸软帽，踏着一望无际的白杨树林荫道上的一层层厚厚的枯枝败叶，一直走到附近的小河边。他面对散木板搭成的小桥坐下来，柳荫也似乎在为他悲伤，他良久地思考着，呆滞的目光注视着滚滚流去的河水，有时，他把它跟人的命运相比。他青年时代的老师西蒙?罗德里格斯的命运就象行云流水一般。此刻他的一个警卫正在暗地里跟着他，不让他发现。待到浑身被露珠浸透才返回别墅时，他已筋疲力尽，脸色煞白，表情木然，但眼睛里却放射出无比幸福而愉快的光芒。他在那些远离尘世的漫步中是如此的心旷神怡，那些悄悄跟在他身后的警卫人员甚至听到他在林间唱起战歌，就象在戎马倥偬的年代里他取得神话般的胜利或遭到惨重的失败时一样。既使最了解他的人都对他此刻的兴致勃勃感到奇怪，因为就连曼努埃拉都怀疑立宪议会能再次确认他为共和国总统，可将军称立宪议会是可敬可佩的。 选举的日子终于到了，那天清晨他外出散步时，看见一只没有主人的猎狗在树篱旁同一些鹌鹑一起跳跃着。他猛地冲那条狗吹了一声口哨，那条狗突然停下来，竖起耳朵寻找着他。它看到他的斗蓬几乎拖到地上，头熊一顶佛罗伦萨大主教的帽子，置身于辽阔无垠的平原上，升腾的雾气急速地在他周围飘散着，他的样子活像一个倒霉鬼。将军走过去用手指抚摸那条狗的皮毛，而那条狗则在他身上到处嗅闻着。However.它突然惊吠了一声，慌忙地逃窜了。将军沿着一条陌生的小道去追那条狗，迷迷糊糊地走进了一个郊外的小巷里。那里的街道是泥土的，两旁是土坯墙、红瓦顶的房子，院子里散发出一阵阵挤奶时的奶香。突然他听到一声高呼书“香肠！” 他没有来得及躲闪，一块牛粪不知从哪个畜栏里飞来，恰好砸在他胸口上开了花，溅了他一脸。自从离开总统官邸之后，他的脑袋一直昏昏沉沉，此时不是牛粪的飞溅，而是那声呼喊更有效地将他从扑朔迷离的境地里唤醒。他知道格拉纳达人给他起的外号，那外号跟波哥大一个疯子的外号是一样的。那个疯子经常穿着演戏的军装站在一条热闹的大街上。就连一位自称自由党人的参议员在背后都这样叫他，那时只有两个人站起来抗议。不过，直到那时，他从没有亲自听到过别人叫他这个外号。他撩起斗蓬边儿擦着脸上的牛粪，那偷偷跟着他的警卫提着出鞘的剑从树林里钻出来，要惩罚那个侮辱将军的人。然而将军用忿怒的目光逼视着他，高声问道： “您在这儿干什么？混帐！” 那军官打了个立正：“我在执行命令，阁下。” “我不是您的阁下。”他反驳道。 他怒不可遏地罢免了那个军官的职务，剥夺了他的权利，以致那军官认为自己在尽职尽责，却遭到了最凶残的报复。就连最了解将军的何塞?帕拉西奥斯，都弄不明白他为什么对那位军官如此严厉。 那一天他很不走运。整个上午，他都在家中走来走去，象等待曼努埃拉到来一般心急火燎。但是，这次谁都看得出．他不是等待曼努埃拉，而是在等待议会的消息，他时刻都在推测着会议的细节。当何塞?帕拉西奥斯告诉他已是十点钟的时候，他说：“不管那些蛊惑感家们如何捣乱，选举总该开始了。”接着，在一阵良久的思考之后，他高声自问道：“谁能知道象乌达内塔这样的人怎么想呀？” 其实，何塞?帕拉西奥斯知道将军对乌达内塔的想法是一清二楚的，因为乌达内塔一直在到处发泄他的不满和极度的怨恨。何塞?帕拉西奥斯又来到将军面前时，将军漫不经心地向他问道：“你认为苏克雷会投谁的票？”当然，何塞?帕拉西奥斯跟他一样清楚，苏克雷元帅不会投票，因为他那些天正跟圣玛尔塔的主教何塞?玛丽亚?埃斯特韦斯阁下在委内瑞拉执行议会的使命，在谈判分离后的边界。因此，何塞?帕拉西奥斯边走边回答说，“您比谁都清楚，老爷。” 从清晨那令人不快的散步回来之后，将军的脸上第一次露出了微笑。 尽管他消化系统功能紊乱，可几乎每天十一点钟以前都会坐到餐桌上去吃一个微温的水煮蛋，喝一杯波尔多葡萄酒，或者吃一点干酪丝。但是那一天，当别人用午餐的时候，他一直坐在平台上望着前面的道路，如此神魂不定，连何塞?帕拉西奥斯都不敢打扰他。下午三点过后，突然听到尚未从小丘背后转过来的曼努埃拉的马车的马蹄声，他立即站起身来，跑去迎接她。他为曼努埃拉打开车门，将她扶下来，他一看曼努埃拉的脸色，马上明白了事情的结果：波帕扬有省一个名门望族的长子堂?华金?莫斯克拉被一致通过当选为共和国总统。 他的反应既不是愤怒也不是失望，而是惊讶，因为他自己也曾提议莫斯克拉当总统，但他肯定他不会接受。他一言未发，陷入沉思之中，直到下午吃点心的时侯，才蹦出一句话来，“我一票也没有吗？”一票也没有。但是，后来由拥护他的议员组成的官方代表团来拜访他时向他解释说，他的支持者们预先达成协议，一定要使投票集中，因此这种结果并不说明他在这一激烈的争斗中是失败者。将军十分不悦，似乎对这种表面过分献殷勤的精明伎俩并不欣赏。相反，他以为如果他第一次提出辞呈时就被接受则跟他的荣誉会更加相称。“总之，”他叹口气道，“煽动家们又赢了，而且是一箭双雕。” 他极力掩饰着自己的心情，不让代表团的人看出他的激动，把他们一直送到门口。可是，当代表团的车子还没有在他眼前消失的时候，他的咳嗽病突然发作，一下倒了下来，直到暮霭沉沉的时候，整个别墅还处于惶恐不安之中。官方代表团的一个成员曾这样说，议会作出的决定是如此的英明谨慎，终于使共和国得救。将军对此未加理睬。那天晚上，在曼努埃拉强迫他喝一碗热汤的时候，他对她说：“从来没有哪一个议会能挽救一个共和国的。”在上床睡觉之前，他将自己的助手和服务人员召集到身边，以每次他那令人不解的要求辞职时惯有的庄严向他们宣布道，“明天我就出国”。 不是明天，而是又过了四天。在他冷静下来的同时，他口授了一份告别书。在这份告别书中，他掩饰了自己的心病，回城去准备行装。新上任的陆海军部长佩德罗? 阿尔坎塔拉?埃兰将军把他接到拉恩塞尼亚萨大街的自己家中，说是照顾他的身体，其实更重要的是为了保护他不受日益加剧的可怕的死亡的威胁。 在离开圣菲之前，将军把剩下的为数不多的贵重物品拍卖一空，以充实他的钱库。除了马匹之外，他还卖掉了在波托西过豪华生活时使用的银餐具。造币厂在出价时，只考虑这套餐具的金属本身价值，根本不考虑其极为宝贵的艺术和历史价值，最后以2500 比索成交。结算之后，他可以带走6600 比索30 生太伏的现金，一张从卡塔赫纳国库支出的8000 比索的汇票，一笔由议会给他的终生养老金，还有分开装在各个箱子里的600 盎司多一点的金子。这笔钱财对一个富有的人来讲，应该说是很可怜的。在他诞生的时候，他们家是美洲最富有的家族之一。 出发的那天早晨，在将军穿衣服的时候．何塞?帕拉西奥斯不慌不忙地收拾好行李，那里只有将军的两套很旧的换洗内衣，两件平时穿用的衬衫，一套双排扣的军用制服，据说那扣子是用阿塔瓦尔帕产的赤金制做的，还有苏克雷元帅从玻利维亚给他带来的一顶丝织睡帽和一顶红色风帽。至于脚上穿的，他只为将军带了几双便鞋和漆皮靴子，而且皮靴还是马上要穿到脚上去的。在何塞?帕拉西奥斯的私人箱子里，除了急救药品和其他一点贵重东西外，还装有卢梭的《社会契约》和意大利拉伊蒙多?蒙特库科利将军的《军事艺术》。这两部珍本书，当年曾属于拿破仑，是副武官威尔逊的父亲罗伯托?威尔逊先生赠给将军的。其他一些零零碎碎的东西，全部塞在一个战士的背囊里。当将军看到何塞?帕拉西奥斯一切准备就绪，欲到随从官员待命的大厅时，不禁感慨万分地说道：“我亲爱的何塞，我们从未想到过，那么多的荣誉，竟一只鞋子就装下了。” 话虽这么说，可他的六匹驮骡还驮着装有勋章、金餐具和其他各种精品的箱子，十个私人纸箱，两箱旧书，至少五箱衣服，以及几箱乱七八糟好坏不分，谁也没有耐心去数过的东西。不过，那些东西跟他三年前从利马回来时带的行李相比，真有天壤之别。当时他身兼三职．玻利维亚总统、哥伦比亚总统和秘鲁的独裁者。从利马出发的马队驮着72 个大箱子，还有装着无数价值连城的财宝的400 多个盒子。即使这样，他还不得不把600 多本书白白扔在了基多。 差不多已是清晨六点钟，蒙蒙细雨已经停歇，但周围依然是那样混浊和寒冷，营房开始散发出一种惯常的刺鼻的味道。当看到将军沉着脸在副官们的前簇后拥下从走廊的尽头走过来时，轻骑兵和榴弹手们争先恐后地纷纷站起身来。在晨曦中，他们看到将军脸色铁青，斗蓬斜披在肩上，一顶大沿帽将他的脸遮住，显得更加灰暗。他用一块浸过香水的手帕堵着嘴，那是安第斯人的一种迷信习惯，据说这样可以在突然走向室外时，避免受恶浊空气的伤害。他没有戴任何表示他的身份的徽章，也没有佩带显示他当年无上权力的标记，然而权力的光环还是使他在浩浩荡荡的随从军官中鹤立鸡群。他沿着室内花园的四周铺着席子的走廊缓缓向客厅走去，他对那些他走过时立正致敬的卫兵漠然置之。在进人客厅之前，他象教士们一样从嘴上取下手帕塞进袖口，又摘下帽子递给一位副官。 除了警卫人员外，从黎明开始，又陆续来了些军人和民众，他们现在正在三三两而地坐在一起喝咖啡，那色彩昏暗的服饰的和有意压低的谈话声，使大厅里的气氛庄严、忧郁而又十分的奇特。突然，一位外交官尖厉的声音盖过了人们的窃窃低语，高声喊道：“这简直象举行葬礼！” 他的话音刚落，便感到背后飘来一股香水味，而且这味道立刻弥漫在整个大厅，他转过身去，想到刚刚进来的幽灵很可能听到了他的粗话，心神十分不安。不过那担心是多余的，尽管将军最后一次访问欧洲已经过去24 年——当时他还十分年轻——但他对欧洲的怀念远远胜过对它的仇恨。因此将军首先朝那位外交官走过去，彬彬有礼地向他打招呼，给了他英国人应该享受的礼遇。 “我希望今年秋天海德公园的雾不要太多。”将军说道。 外交官踌躇了一下，因为那几大他听说将军要去三个地方，其中并不包括伦敦。但是他立刻领悟过来。“我们尽量使阁下白天晚上都能见到太阳。” 新总统没有在场，因为议会是在他缺席的情况下选举的．他还要有一个月才能从波帕扬到波哥大来。现在代他行使职权的是当选的副总统多明戈?凯塞多将军。据说这位副总统能胜任共和国的任何职务，因为他有着国王的仪表和威严，并且具有卓越的才干。将军以十分冷漠的态度向这位副总统问候，并以嘲弄的声调对他说： “您知道我还没得到出国的允许吗？” 他的话引起了一阵哄堂大笑，尽管大家知道那并非戏言。凯塞多将军答应通过下一班邮车给他往托利马省洪达镇寄一份办好的护照。 正式送行的人有代理总统的兄弟本城大主教，其他社会名流和政府官员及夫人们。一些文官穿着羊皮坎肩，军人们则穿着马靴，他们准备把这位放逐的名人送出一二十里路。将军吻了大主教的戒指和夫人们的手，面无表情地同贵族绅士们握了手。他对那些繁琐的礼节应酬得面面俱到，但对这座捉摸不定的城市却是格格不入。他不止一次地评论这座城市说：这里不是我的舞台。”他在大厅里转来转去，依次向所有人问候，对每一个人都讲了一句从礼仪书上学来的，经过慎重斟酌的话语，却没有正面去看任何人。他的声音铿锵有力，但带着发烧的痕迹。那么多年的征战，并没有改变他的加勒比口音，面对安第斯山人的怪腔怪调的发音，他感到自己的口音也愈发生硬。 问候结束以后，他从代理总统手中接到一封由无数格拉纳达要人签名的信件，鉴于他那么多年的功业，他们对他的出国表示认可。他在一片庄严肃穆的气氛中装着阅读那封信，那更多的是表示对地方风尚的尊重，因为他不戴眼镜写得再大的宇都看不清。尽管如此，当他装着把信读完的时候，他向送行的人们说了些简短的溢美之辞，而且，那些话是如此得体，以致谁也不能说他没有读那封信。最后，他环顾大厅，并以难以掩饰的焦虑问道。“乌达内塔没有来吗？” 代理总统告诉他，拉斐尔?乌达内塔将军去支授何塞?劳伦西臭?席尔瓦将军执行防御使命了。这时，有个人压过众人的声音喊道：“苏克雷也没有来。” 这个消息他并不希望知道，因此他不能对这个消息宣布者的不良用心置之不理。他那一直阴暗躲闪的眼睛此刻突然闪出火一般的光芒，没有针对性地反驳道：“为了不惊动他，没有通知阿亚库乔大元帅我出发的时间。” 看来，将军当时并不知道苏克雷元帅在委内瑞拉的使命已经失败，在委内瑞拉，人们没有允许他进入自己的国土。两天前他已回到波哥大，但没有人告诉苏克雷元帅说将军要走，这也许是因为大家都不约而同地认为他会首先知道这件事的。何塞?帕拉西奥斯知道元帅正在倒霉，心绪不佳，而且后来周围一直乱乱哄哄的，就忘了通知他。当然，他也一直在惴惴不安，以为苏克雷元帅很可能因未得到通知而不快。 隔壁餐厅里，丰盛的当地早餐已经摆好：玉米馅饼、血肠米饭、砂锅鸡蛋、镶着花边的桌布上摆着各式各样的甜面包，一饭盒一饭盒又热又稠巧克力的饮料，仿佛是些香糊。 房东故意推迟了早餐时间，为的是看看将军愿不愿出面主持，尽管他们知道他早晨只喝一杯虞美人加阿拉伯树胶熬成的汤药。不管怎样，堂娜?阿马利娅还是邀请了他坐在为他在桌子顶端安放的安乐椅上，但将军谢绝了这一荣誉，他面带笑容地对所有人说道：“我的道路还很长，祝诸位好胃口。” 他踮起脚尖向代理总统告别，总统热烈地佣抱了他，这使大家清楚地看到将军的身体是多么的瘦小，而且在告别时显得何等孤独凄凉和软弱无力。接着，他又跟大家一一握手和依次吻了夫人们的手。堂娜?阿马利娅曹打算留他雨过天晴后再走，尽管她同他一样清楚，仿佛这个世纪雨都不会停歇的。可是，她看到他如此迫不及待地要起程，以致认为再要挽留就十分不妥了。男房东带着将军走到花园，冒着几乎看不见的毛毛细雨走到了马厩。他本想甩手拉着将军的胳膊搀着他，小心翼翼的，仿佛他是个玻璃人，但是他无意中发现，将军的身体里蕴藏着一种极大的能量，这种能量在他身上有如一股暗流在奔腾着，好像同那个虚弱的身躯毫无关系，政府代表、外交使团代表和军人代表，脚上沾着污泥，身上披着被雨水淋湿的斗篷，站在那儿等着在第一天上路时送他。但是，谁也说不清楚，到底哪些人出于友谊为他送行，哪些人出于保护为他送行，哪些人是由于要断定他是否真的要走为他送行。 那支优秀的驮畜队是由100 匹马和骡子组成的，是一个西班牙商人因盗马的事情败露，为换取免于起诉送给哥伦比亚政府的。将军登程时骑的是一头骡子。当马夫已经扶着将军踏上马蹬的时候，陆海军部长突然向他打招呼，叫了一声“阁下”。将军两手抓着马鞍，脚踏在马蹬上，呆呆地一动不动。 “请您留下来”，部长对他说，“为挽救祖国再作最后一次牺牲”。 “不，埃兰”，他回答说，“我已没有为之可以作出牺牲的祖国了”。 这便是最后的结局。西蒙?何塞?安东尼奥?德拉桑蒂西玛?特立尼达?玻利瓦尔——帕拉西奥斯将军永远地走了。他从西班牙的统治下夺取了一个比整个欧洲大五倍的帝国。为了维护这个帝国的自由和统一，他领导了20 年的战争。他用铁脆将这个帝国一直统治到上个星期。但是，到了要走的时候，他甚至连人们应当给子他的信任和慰藉都得不到。唯一十分清楚的是，他真的要走，而且知道他的去处的，只有那位英国外交官。他向他的政府写了一份正式的报告说：“留给他的时间，勉强够走到墓地。”