Chapter 9 Chapter 8-1

At that time, we will climb Mount Chimborazo in Ecuador and plant the eternally united and free Great American Tricolor on the snow-capped mountain. How can I get out of this maze? The greatest danger is walking. The danger is not that you will fall, but that you will exert yourself too much.On the contrary, it didn't matter that he went up and down the stairs, since there was obviously always someone to help him, although he could go up and down the stairs himself.However, when someone actually helped him, he didn't allow them to do so. "Thanks," he said, "I can do it myself."

One day he finally died.That day, he was about to go downstairs by himself, when suddenly his world turned upside down. "My legs gave way and I fell to the ground, half dead," he told a friend.He miraculously survived, because he just passed out on the edge of the stairs, and his light body did not roll down the stairs. Gastel Fondo hurried him to the old San Nicolas in the car of Don Bartolome Molinares.Don Molinares, who had accommodated the general in his own house when he was here, had prepared for him this time a similarly large and well-ventilated bedroom facing the Avenue Ancha.On the way, a sticky substance appeared in the corner of the general's left eye, which made him very uncomfortable.He didn't look at anything along the way, but sometimes he seemed to murmur as if he were praying, when in fact he was whispering his favorite poems.The general always pays attention to his own hygiene, but this time he didn't wipe the secretions from the corners of his eyes, which surprised the doctor, so he had to wipe it for him himself.No sooner had he entered the city than the general awoke when a herd of runaway cows, running wildly, did not overturn his cart, but did crash into the vicar's hansom.The priest somersaulted in the air and fell hard to the ground.He immediately got up from the ground, his black robe and hair were covered with dust.There was blood on his forehead and hands.When the priest calmed down from the shock, the grenadiers had to walk ahead to clear the way, pushing away the pedestrians who were focused on watching the scene and the bare-bottomed children who saw the priest being thrown and applauded. They didn't know that they were sitting in the car like dead people Who is the traveler in the shadows?

The doctor introduced to the general that when the archbishops raged against him from the pulpit, the priest was one of the few who firmly supported him, for which he was labeled a "lecherous masonic" excommunicated for the crime.The general seemed numb to what had happened, and didn't realize the world existed until he saw the blood on the priest's robe.The pastor asked him to use their authority to keep the cows from running around in the city, because there were already so many vehicles on the street, and with these cows, pedestrians would inevitably be in danger. "Don't be boring yourself, sir," he said casually to the chaplain, without even looking at him. "It's the same all over the country."

The sun at eleven o'clock in the morning shines on the wide and sad sandy street, the surrounding is lonely and silent, and the whole city exudes heat, like a big steamer.The General was glad that he had not been kept long in the city, but that he was there to recover from the effects of his fall, and to go out to sea in a boat on a rough day, Because the "French Medical Handbook" said that dizziness can help spit out bile and cleanse the stomach.His body recovered quickly, but it was not so easy to arrange the boat on the day when the sea roared. The general was annoyed at his declining strength.He has no energy for any political or social activities.If he received a visitor, it could only be his close friend, someone who passed by this city to say goodbye to him.The house in which he lived was large, cool, and peaceful, with every advantage possible in November, and the owner had turned it into a home hospital for him.Don Bartolomé was one of the many losers of the war, the only good that the war left him was his job as postmaster.He has held this position for 10 years, but without a penny salary.This man was so good and loyal that the general had jokingly called him Pope on his last trip to this place.His wife was a nagging but capable housewife who embroidered lace every day and sold it on ships from Europe, where it was very popular.But since the general came, she put down her work and devoted herself to serving him.She even quarreled with Fernanda Barriga because she advocated frying the lentils with olive oil, which she thought would cure chest pains, but the General swallowed the dish reluctantly only out of gratitude.

What annoyed the general most in those days was the sticky liquid that kept flowing out of the corners of his eyes. He was very depressed, and finally agreed to order some chamomile eye drops for him.In order to avoid the attack of long-legged mosquitoes, and to get rid of the desolation of the dusk and get instant comfort, the general participated in the card game.In the midst of a card game, the general seldom regretted making a mistake, but once he made a mistake. In a half-serious half-joke with his landlord, he shocked them by saying, "It is better to win a thousand lawsuits than a good agreement." .”

"Is it the same in politics?" asked Mr. Molinares. "Especially in political matters," said the general. "Our failure to reconcile with Santander spells bad luck for us all." "As long as there are friends, there is hope." "On the contrary," said the general, "it was not the treachery of my enemies that cost me my honour. It was they who put me on board the council of Ocania, and they who put me in the hands of the monarchy. The trouble is they first forced me to fight for re-election, then made me relinquish it for the same reasons, and now they have me imprisoned in this country, and I have nothing to lose now."

The rain fell endlessly, and the humidity even cracked people's memories.However, even at night the heat was unbearable, and the general had to change his sweat-soaked clothes several times. "I feel like I'm taking a hot shower," he complained.One afternoon, he sat on the balcony for three hours, watching the broken bricks, household items, and dead animals in the slums being swept away by the torrent formed by a shocking torrential rain, which almost destroyed the house. All the foundations of Shelian were washed away. Major Juan Glenn, Commander-in-Chief and Mayor of the garrison, came in a storm because he had heard that one of Mr. Biswal's maids had been arrested for selling as a relic the hair the General had cut off at Soledad.Once again the general felt infinitely sad, because he never imagined that everything he had had become a cheap disposal commodity.

"People already think in their minds that I've gone to God," he said. Mrs. Molinares approached the easy chair at the card table and continued: "No, you are treated as before. You are a saint." "Well," he said, "if so, let that poor innocent woman go." Generals no longer read books.If there was a letter that had to be written, he dictated to Fernando and asked him to write it for him. He didn't bother to read even the few letters that required his own signature.In the morning, he sat blankly on the balcony, staring intently at the deserted street covered with sand and the donkey carrying water, watching the dissolute and happy black woman hawking small fish dried in the scorching sun, staring at Eleven He was almost melted by the schoolchildren returning from school at the hour and the priest in his patched cassock praying for him standing under the church porch.One o'clock in the afternoon, when others are taking a nap.The general wandered alone along the stinking ditch, his own shadow frightening a flock of vultures in the open-air market.He greeted the few people who recognized him and saw him haggard in civilian clothes.He went as far as the grenadier camp, which was just a mud and reed-walled hut opposite the far port of the Inland River Navigation.He was worried that the army's war weariness would cause low morale. Judging from the messy barracks, there was no doubt that morale was low, and the stench there was already unbearable.However, the true feelings expressed by a sergeant who was dizzy due to the hot weather made the general even more disturbed.

"It's not morale that troubles us, sir," he said to the general, "but gonorrhea." Only then did the general know about the soldier's gonorrhea.Local doctors had exhausted their permanganate enemas and toffee relievers, and the problem was brought up to the army commanders, but the officers were not in agreement on how to deal with the matter.The whole city knew that gonorrhea was threatening them, and the honorable Army of the Republic was seen as the spreader of the plague.The general didn't panic like others, he made a decisive decision and decided to implement absolute isolation and quarantine.Due to the lack of information, the general was extremely disturbed.At this time, a messenger on horseback brought him a random letter from General Montilla from Santa Marta, "The man is already ours, and the formalities are going smoothly." General He felt that this letter was very strange, and the way of sending it was also very unusual, so that he considered it a vital staff matter.At the same time, he connected the letter with Riohacha, a battle he considered to occupy the most important place in history, but no one could understand his thinking.

The method of writing secret letters, which had played an early role in the planning of the uprising against the Spanish Union, was later canceled by the government's sloppiness.Under the circumstances, for reasons of security, it was reasonable at that time to write letters in a vague and tortuous manner, and military reports to be vague.The general has long been worried about his subordinates, and the officers are deceiving him.Montilla also agreed with him, which further complicated the mystery of the letter and made the general anxious like an ant on a hot pot.So he sent Jose Palacios to Santa Marta, under the pretense of getting some fruit, fresh vegetables, and real sherry and white wine that couldn't be found in the local market.But Jose Palacios' real purpose in going to Santa Marta was to unravel the mystery of the letter.In fact, the matter is very simple. Montilla's letter means that Miranda Lindaza's husband has been transferred from Honda Prison to Cartagena, and the pardon is just around the corner.The ease with which the mystery was revealed to the truth disappointed the General so much that he was not pleased even though it brought good luck to his female savior in Jamaica.

The bishop of Santa Marta told the general in a handwritten note in early November that last week's attempt to support Liberia was averted thanks to his apostolic melody that reassured residents of nearby villages in Senaga. Popular riots in Ohacha.The general thanked him in his own letter, and asked Montilla to do the same, but he was displeased by the bishop's eagerness to ask him to pay the debt. The relationship between the general and Bishop Esteves was never amicable.While leaning on a crooked handle that symbolizes meekness, the benevolent bishop actively participates in politics.However, this person is not a wise political figure. He has always opposed the Republic, the unification of the American continent, and all the political arrangements of the general from the bottom of his heart.He served as deputy speaker of the extraordinary parliament, and the general knew very well that his real mission was to create obstacles for Sucre to control politics, whether it was in the election of government members or in their joint efforts to properly resolve the conflict with Venezuela. It was more their treachery than his efficiency.The Molinares, aware of their differences, were not at all surprised when, at four o'clock in the afternoon, over dessert, the general spoke to them from the prophet's parable: "When a revolution is What will happen to our children and grandchildren in a country where the bishop's toss is over?" Mrs. Molinares retorted with kindness and firmness: "Although you are right, sir, I don't want to know about the future. I only know that we are still Catholics." "Of course you are a far more devout Catholic than Monsieur Bishop, for instead of making peace in Senaga for the love of God, he united all his parishioners in war against Cartagena Together." "We are also against the tyranny of Cartagena here," Mr. Molinares put in. "I understand," said the general, "that every Colombian is a hostile nation." The general wrote to Montilla from Soledad, asking him to send a light vessel to the neighboring port of Sabanilla, so that he could take advantage of the seasickness caused by the rough seas and vomit bile, but Montilla was unable to satisfy his demands. At the request, a Spanish Republican named Joaquin de Mier, a shareholder of Commodore Elvilles, had promised him a steamer for temporary use on the Magdalena.As the plan did not materialize, in mid-November Montilla sent the general a British merchant ship, which arrived at Santa Marta without prior notice.When the general learned of this, he immediately issued instructions to leave Colombia in this merchant ship. "I'm determined to go anywhere as long as I don't die in Columbia." He said.Later, because he had a premonition that Camille would stand on the balcony full of flowers on the opposite side of the sea, looking at the sky and waiting, the general was overwhelmed and said with emotion: "It's still the people of Jamaica who love me." He instructed Jose Palacios to pack his bags at once.Late that night he was still looking for several documents that he wanted to take at all costs.He slept only three hours a night and was exhausted.Dawn opened his eyes and realized where he was when he heard Jose Palacios sing a hymn. "I dreamed of my Santa Marta," he said. "The city was clean and the houses were all white and of the same style, but the mountains blocked my view from the sea." "It's not Santa Marta," said Jose Patricios, "it's Caracas." The dream at night, then, indicated to the General that they were not going to Jamaica.Fernando had been at the port early in the morning arranging the details of the trip, but when he came back he saw his uncle dictating a letter to Wilson in which he asked Urdaneta to reissue his outgoing passport, Because the passport originally issued for him by the government has expired.That was the only explanation he gave for canceling the trip. Nevertheless, it was agreed that the real reason for the General's cancellation of the trip was the information received that morning about military operations in Riohacha, the results of which had further aggravated the plaintiff's situation.The motherland is falling from one ocean to another, becoming fragmented.The specter of the Civil War looms over her ruins, and nothing tires a general more than the face of adversity. "We are ready to endure any sacrifice to save Riohacha," he said.Dr. Gastel Vondo, who worries more about the general than about his terminal illness, is the only one who can tell him the truth without hurting his feelings. "The end of the world is coming for you, and yet you keep your eye on Riohacha," he said to the general. "We never dreamed of such an honor." The general immediately retorted: "It is because the fate of the world depends on Riohacha." The general did think so, but he could not hide his anxiety, for they had reached the stage where they expected to capture Maracaibo, but in fact they were farther away than ever from victory.As December approached with its golden afternoons, the general feared not only the loss of Riohacha or the whole of the coast, but that Venezuela would organize an expedition to sweep away the last remnants of his vision. The weather has changed since last week.Where it was supposed to rain, the sky is now cloudless, clear and transparent, and the stars are twinkling at night.The general is indifferent to this kind of miracle on earth. Sometimes he sits in a hammock in a daze, sometimes he participates in a card game, and he no longer cares about his fate.Not long afterward, when the general was playing cards with the officers, a gust of sea wind smelt of sea roses suddenly blew away the cards from their hands, and the latches on the windows fell off.Mrs. Molinares was very excited about the early arrival of the season arranged by God, exclaiming: "It's like December!" Wilson and Jose Palacios hurriedly closed the windows to keep the sea breeze from blowing. came inside, while the general was lost in thought. "It's December, and we're still the same, and we haven't done anything," he said. "People are right, it's better to have an incompetent sergeant than a useless general." After all, the general continued to play cards.In the middle of the game he put the cards aside and told José Laurencio to make arrangements for the trip.Wilson, who had just unloaded his luggage from the ship for the second time the day before, was confused by him for a moment, and said in a daze, "The ship has already left." In fact, the general knows. "It's an uninteresting ship," he said. "We must go to Riohacha to see if we can get our famous generals to finally make up their minds to win this battle." Before leaving the table, he Feel the need to explain to the landlord couple. "It's not even about the war," he told them, "it's about honor." In this way, at eight o'clock in the morning on the first day of December, the General boarded the brig "Manuel", which M. Joaquin Demière had offered him to use.Take a ride on the sea to vomit bile, go down the river to the San Pedro Alejandrino sugar factory to relax your nerves, refresh your sick body and drive away countless sorrows, or go straight to Riohacha to realize your dream. Another attempt to save America.Mariano and Montilla, who came with Jose Maria and General Carreno on a two-masted sailing ship, also arranged for the American "Orca" The frigate escorted the sailing ship "Manuel".In addition to being equipped with excellent cannons, the frigate is also equipped with an excellent surgeon, Dr. Nit.However, when Montilla saw the general's deplorable state of health, he didn't want to just listen to Dr. Neat's opinion, but also consulted his local physician. "I don't even think he's going to survive the bumps in the road," Dr. Gastelvondo said. "But let him go. Anything that happens is better than being alive." The waterways of the Everglades flow slowly and are hot and lethal.So they took advantage of the monsoon blowing from the north and sailed straight to the sea. That year the monsoon came ahead of schedule, and it was neither strong nor weak just for sailing.The square brig was in good repair, the cabin for the Admiral was clean and comfortable, and the ship looked smart when she sailed. The admiral boarded the ship in a bright light, and he wanted to stay on deck and look at the beaches of the Grand Magdalena.The mud on the river beach even made the water within tens of kilometers of the sea turbid.He wore a pair of old corduroy trousers, an Andean cap, and an English navy coat given to him by the captain.Under the bright sunshine and gusts of sea breeze, it seems that his complexion has improved significantly.In order to pay homage to him, the crew caught a large turtle fish. In the belly of the turtle fish, apart from a few daily hardware items, a knight's spur was also found.The general enjoyed all the pleasures of a tourist until his physical strength was exhausted and he sank back into the depths of his soul.He gestured for José Palacios to come up to him, and he whispered in Palacios' ear: "Master Molinares is probably burning my used mattresses right now." Pad and bury my used spoons." At noon they passed through a vast, foul body of water that fronted the Everglades.All kinds of birds in the sky are vying for a large number of small golden fish.Between the swamp and the sea is a hot, flat, saline land, where the sky is clear.The air is fresh, and fishing villages are scattered among them, and each fisherman's yard is full of handicrafts of fishermen.Farther away is the mysterious town of Senaga. The ghosts that haunt the town in broad daylight make the disciples of the German natural scientist Humboldt doubt the science they are engaged in.On the other side of the Great Swamp stands the unmelted ice peak of the Snow Mountain. The brig sailed briskly, with the soundless wind pushing the white sails, as if flying on the water.It is so agile and stable, I hoped that the bumps of the ship would cause physical discomfort, and the plan to vomit bile failed to do so. Moving forward, the sea became choppy when it rounded a high mountain spur that jutted out into the sea. When I got up, the wind also became howling.The general grew hopeful when he saw the sudden change in the weather, the birds of prey hovering above his head, the ground spinning, sweat drenched his shirt, and his eyes filled with tears.Montilla and Wilson had to help him immediately, because his body was so thin and light that two waves could knock him into the sea.In the evening, when they entered the slow waters of the Santa Marta Bay, there was nothing in his crumbling body to vomit.He lay exhausted in the captain's berth, dying, but reveling in the joy of the realization of his dreams.Seeing that, General Montilla panicked.Before starting to disembark, he called Dr. Neat to check on the general, and the doctor decided to send two men to carry them ashore with a chair made of their arms. The people of Santa Marta have always been indifferent to matters with an official color. Coupled with other factors, very few people greeted the general on the pier.The cause of the republic is extremely difficult to seduce the people of Santa Marta, and it can be said that it is one of the few cities in the whole country that is not interested in the republic.Even when independence was a foregone conclusion after the Battle of Boyaca, Governor Samano hid here waiting for the arrival of Spanish reinforcements.The general himself tried several times to liberate Santa Marta, but without success, and only General Montilla accomplished it after the founding of the Republic.Here, in addition to the inherent hatred of the royalists against Bolivar, there was the general discontent with Cartagena, which they believed to be favored by the Central Powers, and which the General, in his own respect for the Cartagenas, This dissatisfaction is exacerbated by the special friendship unconscious.However, the strongest cause of this discontent, even among many who supported the general, remained the summary execution of the admiral, José Prudencio Padilla.In addition to thinking that it was the general's mediocrity, they also emphasized that Padilla was like Piar, because they were mulattos.Hostilities in Santa Marta intensified after Urdaneta came to power, because Urdaneta was the president of the court-martial and it was he who announced the death sentence for Padilla.In view of the above reasons, when the general arrived at Santa Marta, the bell of the church did not ring as expected. Big slogan on the side wall of the church, the soldiers kept busy until the general disembarked.The sign they wiped out read: "Long live José Prudencio!" The official announcement of the general's arrival hardly excited the sparse crowd waiting on the docks, most notably the archbishop. Estevez did not come, and everyone knew that he was the most prominent and number one person in the area. For many years to come, Don Joaquin Demière would surely remember the frightful little man who had been carried from the boat on stretchers on that sweltering first night.He was wrapped in a blanket, and two hats were put together on his head and pulled up to the eyebrows, indicating that the god of death was waving to him.However, what Demierre remembers most is his hot hands, his struggling to breathe, and his superhuman perseverance as he stepped off the stretcher to greet everyone.With the help of his lieutenants, he stood there with difficulty, calling each one by title and full name, and greeting them one by one.Afterwards, people carried him into a two-wheeled four-seater carriage.He slumped on the seat, leaning his head feebly on the back of the carriage, but his greedy eyes were chasing all the living things outside the window. That scene flashed before his eyes for the last time, and it will be gone forever. Never return. The convoy only needs to cross the boulevard to the old customs house, which is where the general will stay.It was nearly eight o'clock at night on a Wednesday, yet with the first December breeze blowing in, there was a weekend vibe on the Bay Boulevard.The streets were wide but dirty, and the rough stone houses with verandas looked much better than the rest of the country.People unfurnished and sat on sidewalks, and some families even received visitors in the middle of the avenue.Swarms of fireflies among the trees illuminate the seaside avenues with a phosphorescent glow brighter than street lamps. The old customs building is the oldest building in the country with a history of 299 years. It has just been renovated recently. The general's bedroom is arranged on the second floor and he can see the bay. In the hall, that was the only place where there was a hoop for him to hang his hammock from.There was also a large table of rough mahogany in the hall, on which, 16 days later, the warm coffin would be placed in the general's embalmed corpse, dressed in a blue uniform befitting his rank, but Eight buttons of solid gold had been torn from it in the confusion of the General's last days. Only the general himself did not seem to believe that death was at hand.On the contrary, Dr. Alejandré Prosper Reverendo, the French doctor called urgently by General Montilla at nine o'clock in the evening, knew without needing to feel his pulse that the General's death had been foreshadowed years before.His neck was flabby, his chest was constricted, and his face was sallow. Dr. Reverendor believed that the main cause was the severe damage to the lungs, and the observations of the next few days further confirmed his correctness.In his preliminary examination, which he conducted alone for the general in half Spanish and half French, he also confirmed that the patient had a genius for distorting the symptoms of the disease and making up the cause of the pain.In the middle of the examination, in an effort not to cough and spit up, his few breaths seemed imperceptible.The initial diagnosis was later confirmed by the clinic's diagnosis. Thirty-three health proclamations were issued for the general in fifteen days, and from the first proclamation that night, the French doctor considered the general as equally interested in physical illness as in mental suffering. Dr. Reverendol is 34 years old, confident, well-bred and well-dressed.Frustrated with the restoration of the Bourbon dynasty in France, he came to Colombia six years ago.He speaks accurate and fluent Spanish and writes it with ease.But the General had shown him his command of French the first time he met him.The doctor heard it right away. "Your Excellency speaks French with a Parisian accent," he said to the general. "Vivian Street accent," said the General, with a sudden lift of spirits. "How do you hear that?" "I can guess which corner in Paris someone grew up on just by their accent." Said the doctor, "Although I was born and brought up in a small town in Normandy." "The cheese is good in that town, but the wine isn't very good," said the general. "Maybe this is the secret to our long and healthy life." Dr. Reverendor touched the point of the general's innocence, making the general feel no pain, thus gaining his trust.Later, because he did not prescribe new medicines after diagnosing the general, he only let him drink a spoonful of cough syrup prepared for him by Dr. Gastelvondorf and took a tablet of sedatives, which further won his trust.The general, desperate for sleep, swallowed the pills, and they chatted a little longer until the sleeping pills took effect.The doctor tiptoed out of the room, and General Montilla and the other officers escorted him home.The general was shocked when the doctor told General Montilla that he wanted to lie down in his clothes in case the general needed first aid in time. During the course of a week, Dr. Reverendor and Dr. Neat had several consultations on the general's illness, but they could not reach a consensus.Revelendo believed that the general had pneumonia from a lingering cold, while Neat concluded from the color of his skin and the afternoon fever that he had chronic malaria.But they all thought the general was very ill.They asked for a consultation with another doctor to resolve their differences, but the three doctors in Santa Marta and others in the city refused to come, of course without giving reasons.So Dr. Reverendor and Neat came up with a compromise treatment plan: a balm-laced ointment on the chest for colds, and quinine tablets for malaria. At the end of the week his condition was exacerbated by the fact that the general had drunk a glass of donkey's milk on his own initiative, without telling the doctor.When his mother made him drink fresh donkey milk with honey, it was because his mother wanted to use this diet to relieve his cough since he was a child.However, drinking donkey's milk now immediately aroused his kind and distant memories, which caused his bile secretion disorder and made his condition worse.The general's condition had deteriorated to such an extent that Dr. Neat had to go to Jamaica early in order to fetch a specialist there for him.It turned out that two specialists with various instruments and medicines were called in, and although they arrived incredibly quickly, it was too late. However, the General's state of mind did not match his frail body.Judging from his actions, the diseases that were killing him seemed to be ordinary ailments.At night he lay awake in his hammock, gazing at the swirling beams of the lighthouse on Fort Morro.He gritted his teeth against the severe pain and kept his eyes on the colorful scenery of the bay, which he once thought was the most beautiful bay in the world. "My eyes hurt from staring at the bay all the time," he said. During the day, the general tried to appear as diligent and hard-working as he had been in the past. He called Ibarra, he called Wilson, he called Fernando, he called everyone around him.He instructed them to write letters, for he had run out of patience to dictate letters to them.Only José Palacios had the sense to realize that he was rushing because time was short.Mostly to make future arrangements for friends and family, including some who were not in Santa Marta at the time.He forgot about the quarrel with his old secretary, General Jose Santana, who had arranged for him to work abroad so that he could enjoy his newlyweds.He puts General José Maria Carreno, who so often aptly extols his benevolence, on the road that must years later make his way to Venezuela's acting presidency.He asked Urdaneta to issue letters of appointment to Andrés Ibarra and Jose Laurencio so that they would receive at least a normal salary in the future.Silva later became the commander-in-chief and minister of the army and navy of their country. At the age of 82, he suffered from severe cataracts that he feared in his later years, and his eyesight was poor. exploits in war.That feat is undeniable, for he is riddled with scars. The general also tried to persuade Pedro Briceño Mendez.Let him return to New Granada as Secretary of Defense, but the rush of time prevented him from finishing the matter in time.In his will he opened a golden path for his nephew Fernando in public administration.General Diego Ivar used to be his first adjutant, one of the few people he called you, and he called him you in private. He advised him not to stay in Venezuela all the time, but To go to a place more suitable for displaying his talents.Even for General Justo Bricegno, who was still at odds with him these days, he gave his last regards to his life on his deathbed. Perhaps his officers never realized how closely that distribution of power and interests linked their destinies together, because, whether they were lucky or unlucky, they would share joys and sorrows together for the rest of their lives, including history's mockery of them Five years later, they reunited in Venezuela. Under the command of Commander Pedro Carlujo, they fought side by side in order to realize Bolivar's ideal of unifying the American continent and launched a military adventure. The general's behavior is no longer a political manipulation, but to make proper and beneficial arrangements for his "orphans" through his will.Wilson eventually confirmed this with a statement that included a letter the general dictated to Urdaneta from his sickbed. "Riohacha is over," he said.That same afternoon, the General received a letter from the elusive Archbishop Esteves, who asked the General to exert his great influence over the Central Powers so that Santa Marta and Riohacha could declare For the province, end their long-standing historical differences with Cartagena.何塞?劳伦西奥?席尔瓦把这封信刚一读完，将军便灰心丧气地打了个手势说，“所有哥伦比亚人都想要分裂。”后来，当他跟费尔南多处理其它信件时，心情则更加忧伤。 “你根本不要回信，”他对他说：“让他们等到我死后愿意怎么干就怎么干吧？” 他时刻盼望气候改变的迫切心情几乎到了让他发疯的程度。如果气候潮湿，他便希望干燥；如果气候寒冷，他便希望温和，如果是山地气候，他便希望海洋气候，这种心情始终使他处于烦燥不安的状态。他一会儿要人把窗户打开通空气，一会儿又要人把它关上，一会儿要人把安乐椅背光而放，一会儿又要人把它移到另外的地方去。只有当他躺在吊床上有气无力地摇动着的时候，他才似乎感到轻松些。 将军在圣玛尔塔的日子变得如此凄惨，以致当他稍微恢复了一点平静后，他又提出了要到米耶尔先生的别墅去。雷韦伦多第一个鼓励他这样做，因为他明白，那是将军一去不复返的生命征途的最后征兆。将军在出发前夕写信给一位朋友说，“我在两个月内肯定不在人间了。”其实，这话可说是他对所有人发表的声明，因为将军在他的一生中，尤其在他最后的年代里，极少提到他死亡的事。 佛罗里达?德圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺距圣玛尔塔城约五、六公里，座落在大雪山支脉，那里是一个甘蔗种植园，并设有一家炼制红糖的糖厂。将军乘米耶尔先生的双轮四座轿式马车沿着尘土飞扬的道路前往，十天之后，他的尸体将裹在一床荒原地区使用的毛毯里躺在牛车上送回来。在看到别墅之前，他便感觉到了浸润着热糖浆气味的柔风，于是一阵悲凉又袭上了他的心头，他情不自禁地叹息道：“这是圣马特奥糖厂的气味。” 距加拉加斯132 公里的圣马特奥糖厂是他多年乡愁的中心。在那儿，他三岁丧父，九岁丧母，20 岁失去爱妻。他曾在西班牙跟一个秀丽的美洲姑娘结为伉俪。这姑娘是他的亲戚，他跟她结合的唯一幻想便是在圣马特奥糖厂当好厂长，管好资产，增加他的巨额财富，夫妻安居乐业，美满地白头偕老。他一直没有弄清楚妻子仅仅在结婚后八个月即与世长辞是由于恶性热病还是由于家里的一件偶然事故。对于他来说，那是一次历史的新生，因为在这之前，他是出生于委内瑞拉一个西班牙血统的土著贵族之家的花花公子，整天沉湎于世俗的灯红酒绿之中，对政治丝毫无兴趣。自从失去爱妻之后，他就变成了一位伟人，直至他去世为止。他没有谈起过他死去的妻子，从没有想起过她，也从没有打算续娶。在他的一生中，他几乎每天晚上都梦到圣马特奥故居，梦到他的父亲和母亲，梦到兄弟姐妹们，但一次也没有梦到过妻子，他一直把她忘记了，仿佛是跟她一刀两断似的，似乎没有她也能够继续活下去。唯一能稍微拨动一下他的记忆的是圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺糖厂制糖后飘出的糖浆味儿——，糖厂里表情冷漠、甚至连一道怜悯的目光都不曾向他投来过的奴隶，以及为了迎接他而刚刚粉刷得雪白的房子及它周围的参天大树。这是另一座糖厂，在这里，一种难以逃脱的命运将把他推向死亡的深渊。 “她叫玛丽亚?特雷莎?罗德里格斯?德尔托罗?伊?阿莱萨。” 将军没头没脑地突然说道。 米耶尔先生正在出神。 "Who?" he asked. “我从前的妻子。”他说道，但他马上又反应过来：“不过，请把我刚才说的话忘掉吧，这是我青年时代的一件伤心事儿。”他再没说什么。 当他仔细地审视了给他安排的房间时，他觉得每一件东西都显露出一种含义，因此又陷入了种种遥远而纷乱的回忆之中。卧室里除了那张带帷帐的大床之外，还有一个桃花心木的衣柜，一张大理石贴面的床头柜也是桃花心木的，一把大安乐椅则罩着红天鹅绒套子。在窗户旁边的墙上，挂着一个罗马数字的八角钟，指针停在一点零七分上。 “我们从前在这儿住过。”他说。 后来，当何塞?帕拉西奥斯上好弦把钟拨正之后，将军躺在吊床上想睡一会儿，哪怕是一分钟也好。直到那时，他才从窗户里看到了那巍峨的雪山，那雪山清晰而透明，呈兰色，酷似挂在天空的一幅巨画。回忆又把将军带到了他一生住过的其他房间。“我从未感到过离家这么近。”他说。 在圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺别墅的第一个晚上将军睡得很好，第二天似乎身上的疾病都消失了。甚至他去参观了糖厂。他对糖厂的良种黄牛赞不绝口。品尝了糖厂的蜜，他在榨糖技术方面的渊博知识使大家惊叹不已。看到将军的这些变化蒙蒂利亚将军委实感到莫名其妙，便要求雷韦伦多大夫告诉他将军的实际病情。大夫对他解释说，将军这种思维想象的好转在垂死者身上是屡见不鲜的，他的死期已指日可待，也许是几小时的事。蒙蒂利亚将军被这一坏讯息弄得慌了手脚，在光秃秃的墙壁上重重地捶了一拳，结果手被划出了血。在他的余生中，他再也不会是昔日的那个蒙蒂利亚了。以前他曾多次欺骗将军，但那是出于好心和无足轻重的政治原因。而从那天起，他欺骗将军便是出于恻隐之心了，并且他还叮嘱所有接近将军的人都这样做。 那天上午，有八位由于反政府活动而被从委内瑞拉赶出来的高级军官到了圣玛尔塔，他们中间有几位是在解放战争中立下赫赫战功的：尼克拉斯?席尔瓦、特里尼达?波托卡雷罗、胡利安?因方特。蒙蒂利亚不仅要求他们别透露坏消息，而且还要他们报告些喜讯，以使那位正在遭受沉疴折磨的孤苦病夫得到一点安慰。于是这些军官便走得更远，他们把他们国家的情况说得如此令人欢欣鼓舞，以致将军的双目又象昔日一般闪烁出了欣喜的光芒。关于里奥阿查的事，将军已有一个星期不提了，现在他又重新挂在了嘴上。他也重新谈起了委内瑞拉，仿佛那里的事情马上便可成功。 “我们从来没有这么好的机会来重新沿着正确的道路开始，” 他说，接着他又信心百倍地下结论道：“当我重新踏上阿拉瓜谷地的那一天起，全委内瑞拉的人都会起来支持我。” 一天下午，将军当着来访军官的面制订了新的军事行动计划，而这些军官则出于怜悯之心表现出眉飞色舞的样子，给予了他帮助。可是，整个晚上他们不得不听他宣布如何重新建立他们想象中的辽阔的帝国，他从这个计划的起源讲起，一直讲到此次的永久打算。蒙蒂利亚是唯一敢于训斥那些在听将军讲话时昏昏欲睡者，因为他们以为是在听一位狂人胡说八道。 “注意，”他对他们说，“将军现在讲的跟他在卡萨科马湖讲的话一样。 不错，谁也没有忘记1817 年7 月4 日将军不得不泡在卡萨科马湖里过夜的情景。当时是他带着为数不多的一伙军官，其中包括布里塞尼奥?门德斯在内，逃避西班牙军队的追捕，他们险些在旷野里被获。将军半裸着身子，烧得浑身发抖，忽然，他开始高叫着慢慢地宣布起将来一步步要作的事情：“立即攻占安戈斯图拉，翻越安第斯山，直至解放新格拉纳达，解放委内瑞拉，以便建立哥伦比亚共和国，最后是征服直到秘鲁的南方广大领上。到那时，我们将登上厄瓜多尔的钦博拉索山，把永远统一、自由的大美洲三色旗插在雪山顶上。”最后他作出了这样的结论。当时听他讲这些话的人也以为他发了疯，但他的这一预言却在不到五年的时间内一字不差地逐渐实现了。 可惜将军在圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺的预言只不过是厄运临头前夜的幻觉。第一周推迟到来的折磨和痛苦突然象一阵飓风似地同时向他袭来，完全把他摧垮了。将军当时的身体抽缩了那么多，以致人们不得不把他衬衫的袖子挽起来，把他的灯心绒裤剪掉一寸。夜里他只在开始时能睡上三个小时，尔后便一直被咳嗽憋得透不过气来，或神智不清，处于幻觉之中，或被在圣玛尔塔复发的越来越顽固的打嗝症弄得烦躁不安。到了下午，当别人在打瞌睡时，他却透过窗户两眼直直地盯着高耸的雪山顶上，以减轻一点自己的痛楚。 他曾四渡大西洋，骑马走遍了解放的领土，这是任何人都做不到的。但是他从未写过遗嘱，这在当时是罕见的。“我没有任何东西留给任何人。”他常常这样说。当他在圣菲准备这次旅行时，佩德罗?阿尔坎塔拉?埃兰将军曾经提醒过他，理由是一切外出旅行者留下遗嘱以防不测是件正常事。而将军严肃多于玩笑地对他说，死亡还没有纳入他的近期计划。尽管如此，在圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺别墅他还是主动口授了遗嘱的草稿和最后的公告。永远没有人说得清那是一种神志不清醒时的自觉行动，还是他那颗痛苦的心使他迈出了失误的一步。 由于费尔南多患病，开头他向何塞?劳伦西奥?席尔瓦口授一些颇为零乱的要点，那些话既无法表达他的愿望，也无法表达他的失望和痛苦：美洲是难以驾驭和统治的，进行革命等于在大海上耕耘，这个国家将无可救药地落在一群乌合之众手中，之后将被形形色色的令人难以察觉的暴君掌握。将其他一些阴暗的思想已分散出现在致各种类型朋友的信件中。 一连几个小时，将军不停地口授着信件，仿佛在处理一件具有远见卓识的事，甚至咳嗽时都不停顿。何塞?劳伦西奥?席尔瓦跟不上他的速度，而安德烈斯由于用左手写字不能坚持时间太长。当所有的书记官和副官都疲倦了的时候，骑兵中尉尼科拉斯?马里亚诺?德帕斯站了起来，他用秀丽的字体一笔一划地抄录着将军的话，直到写满了手头所有的纸。他要求别人再拿些纸来，但是好久都没有拿来，他只好继续在墙上写，直到把墙壁几乎写满。将军对中尉极为感激，慷慨地把洛伦索?卡卡莫将军为爱情决斗的两支手枪赠送给了他。 将军在遗嘱中交待：他的遗体要送到委内瑞拉安葬；曾经属于拿破仑的两本书要保存在加拉加斯大学；要送给何塞?帕拉西奥斯8000 比索，以感谢他对将军的终生效劳；他交给卡塔赫纳的帕瓦热先生照管的文件全部烧毁；玻利维亚议会授予他的勋章物归原主；苏克雷将军赠给他的镶着宝石的金剑归还给这位元帅遗孀；其他的财产，包括阿罗阿铜矿，分给他的两个姐妹和他亡兄的孩子们。除此以外，他再没有别的遗产，就是提到的这些遗产也还要把几笔大小债务还掉，包括拖欠兰卡斯特尔教授的200 杜罗，这件事一直象恶梦般困扰着他。 在依照法律写出的条款中，将军特别额外加了一条以感谢罗伯托?威尔逊先生的美好表示，和他儿子对他的耿耿忠心。将军给予威尔逊先生这样的荣誉并不奇怪，但他没有把同样的荣誉给奥利里将军却令人不解，因为后者之所以在他临终时没有守在他的床边，只是因为他未能从卡塔赫纳及时赶到，因为他正是根据将军的命令呆在卡塔赫纳为乌达内塔为总统效劳的。 威尔逊和奥利里这两个名字将永远同将军的名字联在一起。威尔逊后来当了大不列颠帝国驻利马大使馆的代办，尔后又驻加拉加斯代办，并且站在第一线继续参与两国的政治和军事事务。此后，奥利里将在金斯顿定居，后来迁到圣菲，在那儿长期任他的国家驻波哥大的领事，并把他在将军身边的生活经历撰写成了34卷的巨篇回忆录，51 岁阖然长逝。他的晚年无声无息然而却富有成果。他自己将自己的暮年概括为这样一句话：“解放者死了，他的伟大事业夭折了，于是我隐居到牙买加，整理材料，并撰写我的回忆录。” 自从将军立下他的遗嘱之后，医生施展其全部才能，利用减缓剂千方百计地延长他垂死的生命：脚上涂抹芥子泥，对脊椎施行按摩，全身使用安第斯泥罨敷剂。用十分厉害的速效灌肠剂为他通便。因为担心他出现脑溢血，便给他使用起庖剂消除他脑颅里的慢性黏膜炎。这种治疗法是贴一块班蟊膏药，班蟊是一种腐蚀性的虫子，将它捣碎之后，贴在皮肤上可使之起泡以吸收药物。雷韦伦多大夫在奄奄一息的病人颈部贴了五处起疮剂，小腿部贴了一处。过了一个世纪后，许多医生都仍旧认为将军死亡的直接原因正是这些腐蚀性的膏药，它引起泌尿系统紊乱，便溺失控，不停地溢尿，继之撒尿疼痛，最后便血，直至膀胱干枯．贴在骨盆上，雷韦伦多大夫在解剖时证明了这一点。 将军的嗅觉变得那样敏感，以致他强迫医生兼药剂师奥古斯托?托马辛站得远远的，以避免嗅闻他身上散发出的药味，他让人在卧室里洒着大量香水，并且继续梦幻般地洗澡，自己刮脸，疯狂地刷牙，以超人的毅力防御死亡的污秽对他的侵袭。 12 月的第二个星期，上校路易斯?佩鲁?德拉克鲁瓦途经圣玛尔塔，他不久前一直是将军的副官，现在是拿破仑部队经验丰富的年轻战士。他拜见将军后作的第一件事便是如实地写信给曼努埃拉?萨恩斯。而后者一收到他的信立刻启程赶赴圣玛尔塔，但到瓜杜阿斯的时候，人们告诉她将军己经去世。这一消息使她在世界上从此消失得无影无踪。她甘愿默默无闻地生活下去，除了照管好将军的两箱文件之外她再没有别的操心事了。那两箱文件将军藏在圣菲的一个安全之地，他去世几年之后，丹尼尔?奥利里终于按照他的遗愿如数收回。桑坦德将军重新执政后做的头几件事之一便是把曼努埃拉?萨恩斯驱逐出国外。曼努埃拉愤懑而不失尊严地听任安排，她先去牙买加，尔后是凄凄惨惨地到处流浪，直到在秘鲁的派塔安顿下来。派塔是太平洋里一个肮脏的港口，各大洋的捕鲸船都在那儿停留。在那儿，为了忘记一切，她克服手关节炎的疼痛从事编织，跟骡夫们一起吸烟，还制作动物糖果拿去卖给海员。她的丈夫索恩大夫在利马的旷野上遇上暴徒抢劫而惨遭杀害，其实他带的财物并不多。丈夫在遗嘱中为她留下了一笔同与她结婚时提供的嫁妆价值相等的财产，但是这笔财产始终没有交给她。有三次难忘的拜访使她在寂寞的生活中得到了安慰：西蒙?罗德里格斯老师，她一直跟他共享着玻利瓦尔的遗留下的荣誉，意大利爱国者朱塞佩?加尔瓦尔迪，他是在阿根廷进行了反对罗萨斯独裁政权的斗争之后返回时拜望她的；美国名作家赫尔曼?梅尔德尔，他曾为了写被称为捕鲸百科全书的代表作搜集材料走遍了世界的海域。曼努埃拉年迈时臀部骨折成了残废，整日躺在吊床上看牌算命，为恋人们提供有关的咨询。她59 岁时死于瘟疫，她的棚屋被卫生警察用她保存的将军的宝贵资料（包括他们的情书）点燃后烧成灰烬。据佩鲁?德拉克鲁瓦说，留在她手中的唯一的将军私人遗物是他的一绺头发和一只手套。 佩鲁?德拉克鲁瓦上校在拉佛罗里达?德圣佩德罗?亚历杭德里诺别墅看到的已是将军临终前的一片混乱景象。整座别墅有如一艘随波逐流的船，没有权威照管。军官们休息无定时，困了便倒头而睡，不管什么时间，他们的脾气一触即发，大动肝火，甚至连处事谨慎周到的何塞?劳伦西奥?席尔瓦都拔出剑来对待雷韦伦多大夫的默默恳求。费尔南达?巴里加总是那样镇静，她总是高高兴兴地侍奉所有那么多随时等着就餐的人。士气低落到极点的人们不分昼夜地玩牌，根本不在乎隔壁屋子里垂死的将军会听到他们的大喊大叫。一天下午，当将军烧得迷迷糊糊躺在吊床上时，有个人站在平台上扯着脖子大嚷大叫。他是来讨帐的，无理地要为6 块木板、225 个大钉子、600 个普通的小钉子、50 个镀金饰物，10 尺高级白棉布，10 尺马尼拉丝带和6 尺一般丝带收取12 个比索23 个生太伏。 那一连串的叫嚷声压倒了其他一切声音，响彻了整个庄园。雷韦伦多大夫正在卧室里给手部骨折的蒙蒂利亚将军换绷带，两个人马上意识到在打盹间的清醒时刻，将军肯定也会听到那讨价还价的声音，于是蒙蒂利亚从窗户里探出头去竭尽全力喊道：“别吵啦，他妈的！” 将军闭着眼晴阻止说：“随他们便吧，归根结底，怎么算帐都对我无所谓了。”