Chapter 7 Chapter Six

I'm rich...I'm free...I'm so unlucky... On Wednesday, June 16, the day came when the government confirmed that Parliament would grant him a lifetime pension.He wrote a formal letter to President Mosquera, with some sarcasm between the lines.After granting the letter, he imitated the authoritative tone and customary tone of Jose Palacios's speech and said: "I have money." "I'm free," said Akira. Two days later, having not slept well for an hour, he opened his eyes in his hammock and said, "I'm so unlucky." He decided to take advantage of the cloudy and cool weather , immediately set off for Cartagena.The only specific order he issued was that the officers accompanying him should be unarmed and in civilian attire.He gave no explanation for it, made no indication of his intention, and left no time to say good-bye to anyone.As soon as his bodyguard was ready, he set off, leaving the rest of his entourage to take care of the luggage.

On his previous journeys the general had often made occasional stops to learn about the people he met along the way.He asked about everything: the ages of the children, their illnesses, how the business was doing, and their thoughts on everything.This time he didn't say a word, didn't change his itinerary, didn't cough, didn't look tired, and drank only a glass of wine a day.At four o'clock in the afternoon, the outline of the ancient monastery on Mount Popa appeared on the horizon.It was the time of prayer, and the pilgrims on the highway were like ants crawling up the steep cornices.Then, in the distance, a flock of vultures circled low over the fairgrounds and slaughterhouse slops.The city wall was already visible, and the general signaled to José Maria Carreno, who came over and put the strong arm of a falconer on it for the general to lean on. "I have a confidential errand for you," he whispered. "As soon as you get there, find out where Sucre is now." The general patted Carreno on the back habitually, and added : "Of course, don't let the third person know about this."

A mighty welcome team headed by Montilla was waiting for them on the highway. The general was riding in an ancient carriage of the Spanish governor, and the carriage was slowly pulled by two lively female mules. The crowd he had to get down from the carriage to end his journey by carriage.Although the sun was already in the west, the branches and leaves of the mangroves still seemed to be boiled by the heat from the stagnant water in the swamp.The stench from the marshes was more pleasant than the sewage from the harbor, where the blood and waste of slaughterhouses had accumulated for a century.When the general entered the city through the Crescent Gate, a flock of vultures pecking at the open-air market took flight.Just this morning, a mad dog had bitten several people of various ages, one of them was a Castilian woman who shouldn't have been hanging around here, and until now, people were wondering what had happened. Things are still lingering.The dog bit several children in the slave quarters, but the same children stoned him to death.The dead dog was hung on a bare tree outside the school gate, and General Montilla had it incinerated.This is not only for hygienic reasons, but also to stop people from using African witchcraft to exorcise evil spirits.

An urgent proclamation drove the townspeople from their homes into the streets. Long and bright afternoons around the summer solstice in June, with crowds holding garlands, balconies filled with women in typical Spanish dress, church bells, marching bands and salutes echoing off the sea , but none of this alleviates the poverty that people try to hide. Waving his hat in an old coach, the general greeted the people, and had to look in pitiful beams as he compared the shabby reception he had seen with his triumphant entry into Caracas in August 1813. Take yourself seriously.That time he wore a wreath of laurels and rode in a carriage drawn by six of the prettiest maidens in the city, surrounded by a tearful crowd, who hail him as the liberator, the honorable name that will live on him forever history.At the time, Caracas was still a small, dirty, poor and small remote town in the Spanish colonial province, but those afternoons in Avila (19) were heartbreaking amidst nostalgia for their homeland.

It seems that these two memories of the past cannot be experienced by the same person.Cartagena, this city of incomparable heroism and nobleness, which has been the capital of the Viceroyalty several times and has been praised countless times as one of the most beautiful cities in the world, has not even seen the shadow of the past.It had been besieged nine times by land and sea, and sacked several times by pirates and generals, but never had it been so severely damaged by the wars of independence and factions.The wealthy people of the golden age fled to other lands, the former slaves wandered blankly in their worthless freedom, and a few mice as big as cats ran out of the rubbish dumps in the yards of the marquises occupied by the poor to the streets. superior.The impenetrable ring of bastions that Felipe II (20) once wanted to use his lookout to glimpse from the watchtower of Escorial (21) has been covered by bushes , it is almost unimaginable that it exists.There are only a few ruined shops left in the 17th century, which was extremely prosperous due to the slave trade.One cannot connect the glory of the past with the stench of today's open sewers.The general whispered in Montilla's ear, "What a price this shit independence has cost us!"

That evening, Montilla invited the most important people of the city to his luxurious mansion on Factoria Avenue.Here, the Marquis of Valdeoyos lived out his impoverished years, and the Marchioness made a fortune by smuggling flour and selling blacks.Easter lights were lit in some of the major residences, but the general wasn't ecstatic because he knew that here in the Caribbean, any cause, even the death of a famous person, could be a source of public interest. reason to have fun.Indeed, it was a party in name only.Because a few days ago, several slanderous leaflets had been circulated, inciting its party members to smash glass windows with stones and beat the police with sticks. "It's a good thing we don't have a single window to smash," Montilla said with his customary humor, knowing that the popular anger was directed more at him than at the general.He fortified the grenadiers in the guard with local troops, garrisoned the perimeter of the block, and forbade his guests to reveal that the block was at war.

Lord Raggcourt hastened that night to tell the general that the English mail was at Chica.On the water in front of the fort, but he himself was not going to take the boat, on the open grounds that he did not want to enjoy the vastness of the ocean with the female guests crammed into the only stateroom.And the fact is: despite the general's social lunches at Turbaco, despite his visits to the cockfights to see the dangers of the game, and despite his many preparations for his weak constitution, the count realized that the general's physical condition was not good enough. Allow him to travel long distances.He thought maybe the general's spirit could bear the exhaustion of this voyage, but his body couldn't, and the count was unwilling to provide convenience for the coming of death.However, neither these nor many other reasons changed the general's decision that night.

Montilla didn't throw in the towel.He sent off the invited guests early so that the patient could rest, but left the general on the inner balcony for a long time.A weary young girl in an almost sheer tulle coat was playing a harp and playing some romantic songs of love. Blowing, the last lingering sound of the music is still floating in the atmosphere.The general who fell asleep in the rocking chair drifted up and down with the sound waves from the harp. Suddenly, his heart shook, and he sang the lyrics of the last song in a low voice, with clear words and beautiful timbre.After singing, he turned to the girl playing the harp to express his heartfelt thanks.But as far as he could see, there was only a solitary harp and a garland of withered osmanthus flowers.Then he remembered something: "There's a guy in Hongda for a murder for a good cause."

Montilla laughed before he could say the joke: "What color are the horns on his head?" (22) The general didn't pay attention to this sentence, but described the matter to him in detail. Passed, just omitted his personal relationship with Miranda Lindasa in Jamaica.Montilla had a fairly simple solution. "He should ask to be transferred here on health grounds," he said. "We can try to pardon him here in a while." "Is this okay?" the general asked back. "No," said Montilla, "but let's do it." The general closed his eyes, not responding to the sudden barking of dogs, and Montilla thought he was falling asleep again.After a moment of deep thought, the general opened his eyes again, and said in a concluding tone: "That's it, but I don't know anything."

after this.He heard the sound of dogs barking, spreading in concentric circles from the city to the swamps in the outskirts; their masters.General Montilla told him that the dogs in the streets were being poisoned to prevent the spread of rabies.Of the children bitten in the slave quarters, only two were caught, the others, as always, were either hidden by their parents to die in front of their masters, or taken to the government to the marshes of Mariabaja, populated by runaway slaves, so that they might use the tricks of the snake-player to save the lives of children. The general had never intended to outlaw those inauspicious ceremonies, but to poison a dog he felt it would be dishonorable.He loves dogs as he loves horses and flowers.When he first sailed to Europe, he took a pair of puppies all the way to Veracruz. (23) When he led four hundred barefoot natives across the Andes from Venezuela's Llano province, he took more than a dozen dogs with him.Throughout the battle, he never let them leave him.The most famous of these, "Snow", accompanied the general from the first moments of his military career, and single-handedly defeated a detachment of 20 carnivorous dogs of the Spanish army, later at the In the first battle, he was stabbed to death by the enemy with a spear.In Lima, Manuela Saenz had too many dogs to care for, in addition to the various herds of animals at the Magdalena estate.It was once suggested to the General that when a dog dies, it should be replaced by another dog of exactly the same shape and called by the same name, in order to believe that it still exists.He does not approve of this.He had always wanted them to have personalities, so that they could be remembered for their individual traits, the eagerness in their eyes, the anxiety in their breath, and to be able to mourn the death of each dog.

On the unfortunate night of September 25, two hounds, which had killed the rebels, were killed while attacking the enemy line.General on this journey.In addition to the back dog named Liehu picked up from the river, there are also two dogs that survived.Montilla told him that more than 50 dogs had been poisoned on the first day, sweeping away all the euphoria from the harp. Montilla was indeed sorry, and reassured that no more dogs would die in the streets.He felt a little calmer after hearing this, not because he believed that this promise would be fulfilled, but because he was comforted by the good intentions of the generals around him.The radiance of night embraces all the rest.The brightly lit courtyard smelled of jasmine, the atmosphere seemed to be studded with diamonds, and there had never been so many stars twinkling in the sky. "It's like Andalusia in April. (25)" he once said when he recalled Columbus in the past.A gust of wind blowing from the opposite direction took away the noise of the city and the scent of flowers, leaving only the roar of the waves crashing against the city walls. "General," Montilla begged, "you stay." "The boat is at the dock," he said. "There will be other ships," said Montilla. "All the same," he retorted, "all boats are last chance." He made no concessions.After repeated pleas to no avail, Montilla had no choice but to reveal to him the secret he had sworn not to disclose until the eve of the event, and the loyal Bolivian army headed by General Rafael Urdaneta (26) Lival's officers were preparing for a coup in Santa Fe in early September.Contrary to Montilla's expectations, the general was not surprised. "Don't know about it," he said, "but it's not hard to imagine." Montilla then told him the details of a military coup d'état with the consent of the Venezuelan military officers, which he said had been planned in all the garrisons loyal to the government.The general pondered for a moment and said: "It doesn't make sense. If Urdaneta really wants to rule the world, let him discuss it with Pais (27), he has to repeat the history of the last 15 years from Caracas to Lima. After that, it's a smooth walk, which will go up to the Patagonian plateau." However, when he left there to go to bed, he did not close the door firmly. 'Does Sucre know? "he asks. "He disapproves," said Montilla. "Of course, he and Urdaneta have always been at odds," said the general. "No," said Montilla, "he objects to anything that would prevent him from going to Quito." "Got to talk to him anyway," said the general. "Talking to me is a waste of time." " This seemed to be his last intention, especially since he sent Jose Palacios early the next morning to get his luggage on board while the ship was in the harbor.At the same time, he was asked to contact the captain and ask him to anchor the ship in front of Santo Domingo that afternoon, so that he could see the mail ship clearly from the balcony of his residence.His instructions were so specific, but he didn't say who would accompany him, so his entourage all guessed that he might not take anyone with him.Wilson proceeded in the manner agreed upon in January, and loaded the ship without greeting anyone. Even those who least believed he would go, saw six wagons laden with luggage driving down the main street to the harbor's wharves, and went to see him off.The Earl of Raggcourt, accompanied by Camille, also arrived, and he was the special guest of honor at the general's luncheon.Camille looked younger, her eyes were softened by her hair in a bun, she wore a baggy coat, and she wore loafers of the same colour.The General concealed his displeasure at seeing her by his gallant demeanor. "The beautiful lady must have felt quite sure that the emerald green color would add to her beauty," he said in Spanish. The count immediately translated this sentence, and Camille let out a laugh that only a dissolute woman can have, filling the whole hall with her licorice-scented breath. "Let's stop talking, Mr. Simon," she said.Both of them had changed, and neither of them dared to provoke the rhetorical contest of the first meeting, because each was afraid that it would hurt the other.Camille immediately forgot about him and indulged in moving among the well-educated crowd, trying to speak to someone directly in French.The general walked up to Brother Sebastian Desigan, and the two chatted. This loyal elder enjoys a high reputation, because when Wimbledon (28) passed by here at the beginning of the century and contracted smallpox, It was he who healed.The monk himself was the only one who did not take the matter to heart. "God arranged for some people to die of smallpox and for others not to, and the Baron was one of them," he explained.The last time the General was here, he had asked to see him, and he had heard that he could cure more than 300 different diseases with aloe vera. Montilla ordered the military inspection to be ready for departure when Jose Palacios returned from the pier with an official message saying that after lunch the mailboat would be on the water in front of the general's residence in order to avoid Scorched by the scorching midday sun of June, Montilla ordered a canopy to be erected on the skiff carrying the general from the fortress of Santo Domingo to the mail ship.At 11 o'clock, the food starts to be served on the table, and there are all kinds of rare and famous dishes from the local kitchen cookbook.At this time, there were already a cloud of guests in the hall, some came by invitation and some came on their own initiative, and everyone was so hot that they couldn't breathe.Camille couldn't figure out the reason for the excitement that shook the hall, and she didn't wake up until she heard the husky voice of "Apres vous, madameg (29)" in her ear.The general helped her take a little from each dish, and told her the name, method and origin of the corresponding dish, and then he took a little more dish for himself. The female chef was surprised when she saw this, because a A few hours ago, he had rejected the dishes that were specially prepared for him, which were far more delicious than those on the table.A moment later, he walked over to Camille from the crowd looking for a seat and led her to the inner balcony.There were huge equatorial flowers blooming under the balcony, and the general asked bluntly: "It would be great if we could meet in Kingston (30)," he said. "There is nothing more to my liking than that," she replied, without showing a trace of surprise. "The Azules there fascinates me." "Are you alone?" "No matter who I'm with, I'm always alone," she echoed.After finishing speaking, he jokingly added "Your Excellency." The general smiled and said, "I will find you through Islob." That's all that happened between the two of them.He led her across the hall and sent her back to where she had come from, taking her farewell in a bowed pose for a duet.He didn't take a bite of the dish he took from the plate, and put it on the window sill, and he returned to the original seat.No one knows when he decided to stay or why he made this decision.He was so tormented by the rivalry among the local politicians that when he turned suddenly to Lord Raggcourt, before the latter could react, he meant to be heard aloud: "You are right, Monsieur Count, what am I doing traveling with so many ladies when I am in such a bad state?" "Indeed, General," the earl replied with a slight sigh, and then hastened to add: "But the Shannon will be arriving next week. This is an English three-masted sailing ship. And with great doctors." "It's worse than a hundred women," replied the general. In any case, his explanation was a evasion, because an officer had offered to give him space to go to Jamaica.José Palacios was the only one who gave his exact reason with an unmistakable opinion: "What my lord thinks, only my lord knows." In any case, the voyage could not be made, for, moreover, the cruise ship, which was en route to the fortress of Santo Domingo to fetch him, ran aground and was badly damaged. In this way, he stayed again, the only condition being that he would continue to live in Montilla's house.The general thought that, as far as the house itself was concerned, there was nothing prettier in town, but the proximity to the sea made the humidity too heavy for his arthritis, especially in winter, and whenever he woke the sheets were is wet.What his body asked of him was an air less aristocratic in the city.Montilla interpreted the general's request as a sign of a long-term stay, and immediately tried to satisfy him. On the slopes of Mount Popa, there used to be a village for recreation and rest, but in 1815, the Cartagenas burned down the houses in this place in order to prevent the returning royalist troops from setting up camp.But this kind of sacrifice was useless, because the Spaniards finally captured the fortified city after a 106-day siege. During the siege, the people in the city even used the soles of their shoes to satisfy their hunger. As many as 6000. Fifteen years later, the plain that was scalded by the flames of war is still scorched by the merciless sun at two o'clock in the afternoon.One of the few restored houses belonged to an English businessman named Judak Kinseller, who had been away for a few days.When the general came here from Turbaco, the house's well-kept palm-leaf roof and cheerfully colored walls caught his attention, and a grove of fruit trees almost hid it from prying eyes.General Montilla thought that the house was too small for a lodger of this class, but he also remembered that the general had spent the night in the duchess's bed and wrapped up in a cloak in a pigsty, so he put It is leased for an undetermined term.The bed and washbasin and pot in the bedroom, the six leather stools in the main room, and the boiler in which Mr. Kinseller made his own strong liquor were all added to the rent.General Montilla brought a velvet easy chair from the government office, and had a hut built with reeds and mud for the soldiers of the guard.When the sun was hot outside, the house was fresh, cool, and drier at all times than the residence of the Marquis of Valdeoyos.In addition, it has four well-ventilated bedrooms, where groups of iguanas crawl around peacefully, and the sound of overripe sour lychees falling to the ground is heard from time to time, and the insomnia in the morning Less boring.In the afternoon, especially in the rainy afternoon, you can see the ranks of poor people carrying their drowned relatives to the monastery to keep watch. Since moving to Mount Popa, the General had only been to the city two or three times, and that was specifically to have him painted by an Italian painter, Antonio Meusi, who was passing through Cartagena.He felt so weak that he could only sit on the inner balcony of the marquis' apartment, smelling the fragrance of wild flowers and listening to the noisy singing of birds, while the painter painted.Even so, it is not possible to insist on staying still for an hour.It looks like he likes it very much.Although it is obvious that the painter injected him with excessive compassion. Shortly before the September murders, Colombian painter Jose Maria Espinosa painted a portrait of him at the presidential palace in Santa Fe.But he felt that the painting was so far from his own image that he could not control his impulse to confide his unhappiness to his then secretary, General Santana. "Do you know who this picture is?" he said, "Like old Olaya in Mesa (31)." Manuela Saenz was annoyed when she found out, because she knew the old guy from Mesa. "I think you devalue yourself too much," Manuela told him. "The last time we saw him he was almost 80 years old and couldn't stand up anymore." His earliest portrait was painted by an unknown artist in Madrid at the age of 16. At the age of 32, he painted another one in Haiti.Both paintings faithfully depict his age at the time and his Carib character.He was of African blood, and his great-great-grandfather had had a boy with a slave girl, as was evident in his features.So the upper class in Peru called him Sambo (32).However, as his honor and status continued to rise, painters gradually idealized him, washed his blood, and deified his image, until finally he was established in the official memory as a Latin profile relief image.On the contrary, Espinosa's portrait is like him and not like anyone else. At the age of 45, he was eaten and bruised by the disease. He tried his best to hide this fact not only from others, but also from himself. It was like this until the eve of his death. One rainy night, he slept in the residence of "Poppazu", and when he woke up from a disturbing dream, he saw a girl from the gospel sitting in a corner of his bedroom, wearing a secular religious order dress. Embroidered sackcloth, with a halo of fireflies in her hair.In the colonial era, European tourists were amazed to see the aborigines using fireflies in bottles to light their way at night.Later, in the era of the Republic, fireflies became fashionable accessories for women. They used them to make such as shiny ring clamps and wear them on their heads, shining crowns on their foreheads, or shining brooches on their chests.The girl who walked into his bedroom that night sewed fireflies to her headband, so her face was bathed in a hallucinatory light, and her delicate and tired state seemed unfathomable. In her twenties and eight years, she was already full of hair, but the general immediately discovered in her the most important virtue of being a woman: unpolished intelligence.In order to let her enter the grenadier's camp, she said that she would pay any price. The officer on duty felt that this person was rare, so he handed her over to Jose Palacios to see what the general thought of her. Is she interested.The General made her lie beside him, for he felt powerless to take her in his arms and lay him on the bed.The girl took off the hairband on her head, put the firefly into a hollowed-out sugarcane that she carried with her, and lay down beside him.After talking aimlessly for a while, the general asked her what the people in Cartagena thought of him. "People said you were in good health, but you acted like you were sick to gain sympathy," she said. He took off his pajamas and asked the girl to look at his upper body under the oil lamp.The girl saw clearly the worst body she could see: a shriveled abdomen, exposed ribs, and the upper and lower limbs were so thin that only the bones remained, and the whole body was wrapped in a skin that was as pale as a dead man with few hairs , and his head, because of the wind and sun, looked like another person's. "All I lack now is death," he said. The girl insisted: "People say you've always been like this, but now it's good for you to let people know." He did not throw in the towel in the face of incontrovertible facts, he continued to present irrefutable evidence of his disease, while she was now and then overwhelmed by the Sandman, and continued to talk to him in her sleep, never leaving the conversation train of thought.Throughout the night, he didn't even touch her, but it was enough to feel her youthful breath.Suddenly, Captain Iturbide began to sing: "If the rain doesn't stop, if the wind blows harder, hold me by the neck and let the sea swallow you up." This is a song from the past, when the stomach still Endure the strong temptation of the ripe guava and the ruthlessness of the woman in the dark.The general and the girl listened to the song together in almost reverent hearts, but in the middle of another song the girl fell asleep again, and he was weary and restless.After the singing died away, the silence of the night was so pure that when the dogs barked everywhere, the girl tiptoed out of bed so as not to wake him up.He heard her fumbling for the lock. "You're gone, virgin?" he asked. She replied with a playful laugh: "As long as you stay with your Excellency for one night, no one will be a virgin." like all other women.she left.Of the many women he had met in his life, many of whom he had had brief pleasures with, he had never hinted to any of them that she would stay.Once his desire has been fulfilled, he is content to go on dwelling on them in his memory; Even a little bit of my life fell into this feeling of vanity rather than love. That night, when he was alone, he got out of bed and went to Iturbide, who was continuing his conversation with several other officers around the bonfire in the courtyard.The general made him sing, José de la, with Colonel Cruz Paredes on guitar, and that was it until dawn.Everyone realized his bad mood at the time from the songs he chose. After returning from his second trip to Europe, he was very interested in popular songs. He not only sang them to his heart's content, but also danced to them more gracefully than anyone else at a high-society wedding in Caracas. not on.The war had changed his interests, and the romantic songs of folk origin, which had held him by the hand in the sea of ​​doubts in his first love, had been replaced by gorgeous waltzes or exciting military music.This evening in Cartagena, he made them sing again the songs of his youth, some of which were so old that he had to teach Iturbide, who was too young to remember up these songs.As the general sank into anguish, the listeners slowly walked away, until iturbide was left with him to stare at the embers of the bonfire. It was an unusual night, without a single star in the sky, and the sea breeze brought the cries of orphans and the smell of rotten flowers.Iturbide was a man of few words, who could gaze at the cold ashes from dawn without blinking, as he sang Dadan with inspiration.The general stoked the fire with a wooden stick.One side interrupted his singing: "What's the news over there in Mexico?" "I have no one there," Iturbide said, "I am an exile." "Here we are all exiles," said the general. "I have only been in Venezuela for six years since the war began, and the rest of my time I have spent intercepting unruly colts (33) and traveling halfway around the world." You can't imagine what I'd pay for a goulash in San Mateos right now." His thoughts should leave his real life and go back to the sugar mill of his childhood. After a moment of silence, he stared at the dying bonfire.When he started talking again, his thoughts had returned to reality. "The thing is that we are not Spaniards anymore. The countries we have been to have either changed their names every day, or the governments are short-lived governments, so that we don't know where to find them. What kind of place are you from?" After speaking, he returned to staring at the ashes of the campfire for a long time, and asked in a different tone: "There are so many countries in the world, why do you come here?" King Iturbide talked about him left and right. "At military school, the teacher taught us to fight on paper," he said. "We fought with lead minions on topographic maps made of plaster, and on Sundays the teacher took us to the nearby grasslands, where there were cows grazing and cows grazing. The colonel fired a cannonball to accustom us to the atmosphere of terror and the smell of gunpowder. The most famous of the teachers was a crippled Englishman who taught us how to fall from a horse after death. come down." The general interrupted him. "You like war?" "I like your kind of war, General," said Iturbide. "It's been almost two years since I was drafted into the army, but I don't yet know what a real war looks like." The general's eyes still hadn't moved to his face. "Well, you're on the wrong track," he said. "There are no wars here except some against others, and these wars are like killing one's own mother." José Palacios Reminding the general from the shadows that day was approaching, he brushed away the ashes with a stick, and when he got up, he grabbed Iturbide by the arm and said, "If I were you, I would take advantage of the shame." Things haven't caught up yet, get out of here quickly." José Palacios repeated endlessly, bringing disaster to the house of Popa.When they first moved there and were not yet ready to settle, Lieutenant Jose Thomas Machado brought news from Venezuela that several barracks had declared that they would not recognize the separatist government, and that a new, The political party that supported the general was gaining strength.The general received the lieutenant alone, and listened carefully to what he had to say, but without much enthusiasm. "Bringing good news, but late," he said, "as for me, how can a poor immobile man deal with the whole world?" Promise him any answer. "I don't expect my body to be able to serve the motherland in the future." He said. However, as soon as Captain Machado was seen off, the general turned to Carreno and asked, "Have you seen Sucre?" Reunited with his wife and daughter on time on this day." "He travels with plenty of time," Carreno said. "President Mosquera met him on his way to Popayan." "How did this happen?" The general was quite surprised, "He came by land?" "Yes, my general." "My God!" he sighed. 这是一种预感，就在这天夜里，接到了苏克雷元帅惨遭杀害的消息。6 月4 日，当他穿过险恶的贝鲁埃科地带时，遭到伏击，被人从背后用枪打死。这一不幸的消息是蒙蒂利亚带回来的，当时将军刚洗完晚浴，勉强听他讲完了惨案的经过。他向额头上猛击一掌，扯翻了仍摆着晚餐、杯盘的台布，他很少如此震怒，他真是气疯了。 “娘的！”他吼叫道。 当他恢复理智后，屋子里仍然回响着他怒吼的余音。他一下摔坐在椅子上，咆哮道：“这是奥万多干的。”他一次又一次地重复着：“是奥万多，这个西班牙人收买的刽子手。”他指的是何塞?马丽亚?奥万多（34）将军，时为新格拉纳达（35）南部边境地区帕斯托的军政长官。就是以这种方式，奥万多杀害了将军唯一可能的接班人，同时为自己确保取得四分五裂的共和国总统的宝座，然后再把它交给桑坦德。一个参与这次谋杀的知情者在回忆录里写道：傍晚时分，当他走出谋划这一罪行、位子圣菲大广场附近的一座房子时，他的心灵受到了震动，因为透过凉气透骨的薄雾，看到苏克雷元帅身披黑呢大氅，头戴普通礼帽、两手抽在口袋里，在教堂的门廊下漫步。 在得悉苏克雷被害的那天夜里，将军吐了血，就象那次在洪达一样，何塞?帕拉西奥斯没有把它泄露出去，当时，他看见将军趴在浴室的地上用海绵擦拭血迹。这两件事，将军没有要求他保密，但他都这样做了。他考虑的是，坏消息已经够多的了，这不是添加坏消息的时候。 一天夜里，就象今天的夜晚一样，那是在瓜亚基尔，将军意识到了他过早的衰老。当时他仍留着长发，一直拖到两肩，为了作战和做爱的方便，他用一根带子把它们束在脑后，因此他发现头发几乎全白了，脸色也憔悴而忧伤。“如果您现在看到我，您是不会认出来的。”他在信里给一位朋友这样写道，“我现在四十一岁，但活象是六十岁的老人。”那天夜里，他剪掉了长发，不久后，在波托西（36），为了缚住从他手指缝里迅逃的青春，他开始修理胡髭和鬓角。 苏克雷遇害后，他已不再用打扮的技巧来掩盖他的衰老了。“波帕足”的屋子沉浸在一片哀痛里。军官们不再玩牌了，他们彻夜不眠，或是围坐在躯赶蚊虫的、永不熄灭的筹火四周谈到深夜，或是躺在集体宿舍里高高低低的吊床上进行交谈。 将军宁愿把他的酸楚点一点地往外滴，他随意挑两、三个军官陪他守夜，给他们述说他隐藏在内心暗阴处最令人齿冷的事情。他让他们又一次听他的老生长谈：在解放秘鲁的最后阶段，由于负责哥伦比亚的总统桑坦德拒不给他派遣部队和筹措军饷，他的军队曾面临瓦解的危险。“他生性是个吝啬鬼、守财奴，”他叙述道，“但他的理由更是些歪道理，他的才智只允许他看到殖民地边界那么远的距离。” 他又给他们重述那件不知讲了多少遍的、令人昏昏欲睡的事：对美洲大陆统一的致命打击，是桑坦德将军自作主张冒险邀请美国参加巴拿马代表大会，那次会议正是关于宣布美洲团结的大会。“这好比邀请猫参加老鼠的聚会，”他说，“而那样做的原因就是因为美国威胁要控告他把美洲大陆变成一个反对神圣同盟的人民政权的联盟。真是不胜荣幸！”他对桑坦德为达到最终目的而表现出的令人难以理喻的冷酷，又一次重述了他的恐惧感。“他是个冷血动物。” He said.对桑坦德接受英国贷款和纵容、庇护同党腐化这样的事，他深恶痛绝。每当他谈起桑坦德，无论是私下还是公开场合，他那要给似乎已处于极限状态的政治气氛再添进一滴毒液。但他不能克制自己。 “事情就是这样开始完蛋的。”他说。在管理公共钱财上，将军极为严谨，所以只要一谈起这样的事，他就抑制不住自己的怒火。作为总统，他颁布法令规定，一切政府官员，凡犯有贪污行为或诈骗10 比索以上钱财者，皆处以死刑。相反，在对待自己个人的财物上，他却是那样慷慨大度，为了独立战争，他从先人继承下来的财产，没有几年就用去了大部分。他自己的薪水被分给战争中失去丈夫的寡妇和残废军人。他把自己继承的制糖厂送给了他的侄子和外甥，他在加拉加斯的一座房子送给了他的姐姐妹妹，而他的大部分地产则分给了早在奴隶制废除之前就被解放了的、为数众多的奴隶。他曾拒绝利马议会在解放的喜庆气氛中馈赠给他的100 万比索。政府为了让他有个象样的住所而拨给他的蒙塞拉特乡间别墅，在辞职前几天，他送给了一位经济拮据的朋友。那是在阿普雷河边，他把自己正用着的吊床送给了一位发烧的向导，让他躺在上面好发发汗，而他白己则裹着一件军用斗篷往地上一歪继续睡觉。他想用自己的钱付给公谊会教育家何塞?兰卡斯特尔2万银比索其实这并不是他欠的钱，而是政府亏下的债。他非常爱马，但他常把它们送给途中遇到的朋友，甚至那匹最有名、最荣耀的战马——白鸽，他也把它留在了玻利维亚以带领圣克鲁斯元帅的马群。所以贪污货款的话题，总是使他失去控制而怒火中烧。 “正象9 月25 日那样，卡桑德罗身上没有沾上一点污渍，因为在保持正人君子的外表这一点上，他是个魔术师”，凡是有兴趣听者，他就这样讲，“但是他的一些朋友把英国人以高额利率借给国家的钱，又拿到英国去放高利货，成倍一成倍地给他大发横财。” 好几个晚上，他彻夜不眠地向他们坦露心灵深入最阴暗的部分。第四天请晨一醒来，当危机似乎将永远地持续下去时，他穿着那天得悉苏克雷被害消息时的同样一身衣服，探身到庭院的门外，把布里塞尼奥?门德斯将军单独叫到了一边，两个人一直谈到鸡叫。将军坐在罩着蚊帐的吊床上，布里塞尼奥?门德斯坐在由何塞?帕拉西奥斯挂在将军一侧的另一张吊床上。也许此刻他们无论谁也没有意识到和平时期的久坐不动的习惯有多少已成为过去，而短短几天里，军营中那捉摸不定的夜间生活有多少又已回到了他们身边。通过交谈，将军清楚了，何塞?玛丽亚?卡雷尼奥在图尔瓦科表示的那些忧虑和希望不仅是他个人的，也是大部分委内瑞拉军官所共有的。当他们看到哥伦比亚人的敌对举动之后，更加感到自己是委内瑞拉人，但他们同时也准备为统一大业不惜付出自己的生命。如果将军命令他们去委内瑞拉作战，他们早就奔向那里了，而布里塞尼奥?门德斯将走在前头。 那是最难挨的几天将军唯一愿意接待的来客是波兰陆军上校米耶塞斯劳?纳皮尔斯基，弗里德兰（37）战役（38）的英雄和莱比锡惨战（39）的幸存者，他刚到不久，是波尼亚托夫斯基（40）将军推荐他来加入哥伦比亚军队的。 “您来晚了，”将军对他说，'这儿已无事可干了。 " 苏克雷死后，一切事情都无从谈起。他就这样给纳皮尔斯基说明了情况，而后者也如实地写在了他的旅途日记里，一位哥伦比亚大诗人根据他的日记，把这一点补写进了历史，那是180 年之后的事。纳皮尔斯基是乘“香农”号邮船抵达的，船长陪他一起来到将军的住地，将军对他们谈了他想去欧洲的愿望。但两人中间谁也没有觉得他真的要乘船运行。由于这艘三桅船要在瓜伊拉停留，并在去金斯敦之前回卡塔赫纳，所以将军给了船长一封信让他带给他经营的阿罗瓦矿业公司的委内瑞拉代理人，以便乘船长返程时带点钱来。船回来了，但没有捎来任何消息，将军颇为沮丧，谁也没有再问他是否还乘船起航。 没有任何令人欣慰的消息。何塞?帕拉西奥斯尽量注意不给坏消息添枝加叶，而且尽可能缓以时日再告诉将军。有件事使随行的军官们担忧，他们设法瞒住了将军，以免他意乱心烦：原来卫队里的轻骑兵和掷弹兵一路上所到之处都沾染下了淋病的病毒。事悄是从在洪达逗留期间开始的，有两个女人只用几个晚上的工夫，就跟警备部队的所有人员都睡了一遍。从那以后，每过一地士兵们便在私通苟合中继续传播这种病毒。尽管所有科学的药物或江湖术士的妙方都尝试过，但没有一个士兵能免于此病。 何塞?帕拉西奥斯想方设法不使令人难受的消息送到他老爷的手里，但这种努力并非万无一失。一天夜里，一封没有姓名、地址的信函几经传递，不知怎么竟送到了将军的吊床上，因为没有戴眼镜，看信时不得不伸长胳膊，一会儿后，他就把信放在蜡烛的火苗上，直到全部化为灰烬。 这封信是何塞法?萨格拉里奥写的。她在去蒙波克斯的途中于星期一抵达这里，同行的有她的丈夫和孩子，听说将军被解除职务并将远走国外，她感到病情有所好转。从没有透露过信的内容，但那天整个夜里，他一直烦躁不安。第二天早晨，他派人给何塞法?萨格拉里奥送去一份和解的建议。她没有为他的恳求所感动，而是如所安排的那样，继续她的旅程，没有流露出一丝的脆弱。据后来他告诉何塞?帕拉西奥斯说，何塞法所以那样寸步不让，因为她认为与一个行将就木的人讲和没有任何意义。 那个星期，得知曼努埃拉?萨恩斯为了让将军重返政坛，在圣菲进行的个人战争愈演愈烈。内政部不断找她的麻烦，要她交出她保管的档案材料。她一口拒绝了，而且挑起了一系列使政府恼怒的事端。她到处制造风波，散发颂扬将军的小册子，带着两个好斗的女奴用炭笔涂抹公共墙壁上的广告。她身着陆军上校的制服．或进出兵营，或出席士兵的聚会，或参加军官们的密室会议，这些都是众人皆知的事。流传得最激烈的消息说，在乌达内塔的庇护下，她正在推动一场武装暴动，以重建将军的绝对权力。 要使人相信将军尚有余力胜任这样的事，那是困难的。傍晚的热度每天定时升高，咳嗽的声音也令人揪心。一天清早，何塞?帕拉西奥斯听到他高声呼叫：“祖国个婊子！”将军训斥军官的叫声使他大吃一惊，他一下跑进将军的卧室，看到他脸颊上满是鲜血，原来是刮脸划破了皮。他所以发火倒不是由于这件事本身，而是恼恨自己动作的迟笨。威尔逊上校赶紧找来了药剂师给他做处理，发现他极为难受，药剂师想给他服几滴颠茄液，以便让他平静下来，但被他突然拒绝了。 “让我就这样待着，”他说，“无可救药者的健康就是绝望。” 他的姐姐玛丽娅?安东尼娅从加拉加斯给他来信，信中说：“大家都抱怨你不来整给这儿的混乱状况。”村镇里的神父们都为他铁了心，军队里开小差的现象层出不穷，各个山岭上都布满了全副武装的人群，他们除了将军谁也不相信。她姐姐在信中写道：“这是一场疯子的喧闹，他们不懂得是他们自己干革命。”就在一部分人为他大声疾呼的同时，全国有一半的墙壁上一夜之间都写上了辱骂他的标语口号。散发的传单上写道，他这一家应连诛五族。 给他以致命打击的是委内瑞拉议会在瓦伦西亚举行的会议，会上通过了彻底分离的决议和相应的声明，声明庄严地宣布，只要将军还滞留在哥伦比亚的领土上，委内瑞拉与新格拉纳达和厄瓜多尔就没有达成谅解的可能。使他万分痛心的不仅是圣菲发表的官方照会，而且还因为给他送交这份照会的竟是他的死敌、一个参与9 月25 日阴谋的成员。莫斯克拉总统把这个流亡国外的人召了回来，并委以他内政部长的重任。将军说：“我一定要说，在我一生中这是对我刺激最大的一件事。”那天夜里，他彻夜未眠，为了作出回答，向记录员们口授了几种方案，他当时如此恼怒，以致最后竟沉沉入睡了。天亮时，他从恶梦中醒了过来，对何塞?帕拉西奥斯说：“哪一天我死时，加拉加斯一定钟声齐鸣。” 事情还远不止此。假如马拉开波（41）省省长得知他死去的讯息后，将会这样写：“我迫不及待地把这无疑将给国家幸福和自由事业带来无限好处的重大消息告诉大家。制造灾难的天才，燃起混乱的火把，压迫祖国的独夫，已经死了。”这份原本用来向加拉加斯政府报告消息的通告，结果变成了国家公告。 令人可怖的气氛笼罩着那些不幸的日子，清晨五点，何塞?帕拉西奥斯为他唱了他的生日之歌：“7 月24 日，是圣克里斯蒂娜、圣母和殉道者日。”他睁开了双眼，他明白，他已是被上帝看中的背时汉。 他没有做生日的习惯，除非是命名日的纪念。天主教的圣徒列传里有11 位圣西蒙，他本来更喜欢用帮助基督扛十字架的西蒙来命名，结果命运却给了他作为埃及和埃塞俄比亚的使徒、讲道士的另一位西蒙，日期是10 月28 日。其一个10 月28 日，在圣菲的一次晚会上，有人给他戴上了一顶桂冠。他高兴地摘了下来，恶作剧地把它戴在了桑坦德将军的头上，桑坦德毫不推辞地接受了。但它一生的所作所为不是以名字来记载的．而是以年代来记载的。对他来说47 岁具有特别的意义，因为去年的7 月24 日，当时在瓜亚基尔，到处是令人忧虑不安的消息，危险的高烧使他一直神志不清，一种预感震动了他，而他是从来不承认预兆这种事的。征兆是明确无疑的。如果他能活到下一个生日就再没有神灵能夺走他的生命了。这种秘密神谕的玄义就是那股违背常理地把他悬举在空中并坚持到现在的力量。 “已经47 岁了，去个毬，”他咕哝了一句，'而我竟活着！ " 他从吊床上欠起身，体力已得到恢复，内心也因为确信已脱离病魔的威胁而感到激励。他把布里塞尼奥?门德斯叫了过来，他是那些为了哥伦比亚的统一想去委内瑞拉作战的头头，并通过他向军官们致以生?的谢意。 “中尉以上的军官，”他说，'凡是想去委内瑞拉打仗的就去收拾自己的坛坛罐罐。 " 布里塞尼奥?门德斯将军首先收拾好了自己的东西。另外两位将军、四位上校和卡塔赫纳驻军的八名上尉加入了队伍，但是当卡雷尼奥提起他以前答应过的话时，将军说“您留下来有更重要的用场。” 在队伍出发前两个小时，他决定让何塞?劳伦西奥?席尔瓦也走，因为他感到无所事事的生活加重了他对自己眼睛的烦恼。席尔瓦没有领受这样的荣誉。“这种无所事事的生活也是一种战争，而且是最严酷的战争之一，”他说，“如果将军不命令我干其他事情，我就留在这儿。” 相反，伊图尔维德、费尔南多和安德烈斯?伊瓦那没有获得将军的同意。“如果您一定要走，将是去另一个地方。，将军对伊图尔维德说。给安德烈斯解释的理由更少有，意思是迭戈?伊瓦那将军己经在那里战斗，兄弟两人参加同一场战争未免太多了。费尔南多甚至连提也没有再提，因为他肯定，得到的将是一如既往的回答“一个男子汉打仗就要全部上战场，不能允许他的两只眼睛和右手到别的地方去。”他聊以自慰的是这种答复在某种程度上是一种军事褒奖。 在将军批准一些人走的那天晚上，蒙蒂利亚给他们提供了一切方便，以便当天夜里就能出发，同时参加了为此而举行的简单仪式。将军给每一个人送了赠言，跟每一个人拥抱送别。他们分道而行，一些人经牙买加，另一些人过库拉索岛（42），还有一些人则取道瓜希拉（43），所有人都是便装便服，既不携带武器，也不带任何可能暴露他们身份的证件，就象在反对西班牙人的地下活动中所干的那样。天亮时，“波帕足”的那所房子己是座被遗弃的兵营，但是将军留下了，原一场新的战争能重振他昔日光荣的希望支撑着他。