CHAPTER XXXIV. GENOA IN THE SIEGE

Up a straight street, so steep and so narrow that it seemed a stair,

with hundreds of men crowding around me, I was borne along. Now, they

were sailors who carried me; now, white-bearded grenadiers, with their

bronzed, bold faces; now, they were the wild-looking Faquini of the

Mole, with long-tasselled red caps, and gaudy sashes around their

waists. Windows were opened on either side as we went, and eager faces

protruded to stare at me; and then there were shouts and cries of

triumphant joy bursting forth at every moment, amidst which I could hear

the ever-recurring words--‘Escaped from the English fleet.’

By what means, or when, I had exchanged my dripping trousers of coarse

sailcloth for the striped gear of our republican mode--how one had given

me his jacket, another a cap, and a third a shirt--I knew not; but there

I was, carried along in triumph, half fainting from exhaustion, and

almost maddened by excitement. That I must have told something of my

history--Heaven knows how incoherently and unconnectedly--is plain

enough, for I could hear them repeating one to the other--‘Had served

with Moreau’s corps in the Black Forest;’ ‘A hussar of the Ninth;’ ‘One

of Humbert’s fellows’; and so on.

As we turned into a species of ‘Place,’ a discussion arose as to whither

they should convey me. Some were for the ‘Cavalry Barracks,’ that I

might be once more with those who resembled my old comrades. Others,

more considerate, were for the hospital; but a staff-officer decided the

question by stating that the general was at that very moment receiving

the report in the church of the Annunziata, and that he ought to see me

at once.

‘Let the poor fellow have some refreshment,’ cried one. ‘Here, take

this, it’s coffee.’ ‘No, no, the _petite goutte_ is hotter--try that

flask.’ ‘He shall have my chocolate,’ said an old major, from the door

of a café; and thus they pressed and solicited me with a generosity that

I had yet to learn how dear it cost.

‘He ought to be dressed’; ‘He should be in uniform’; ‘Is better as he

is’; ‘The general will not speak to him thus’; ‘He will’; ‘He must.’

Such, and such like, kept buzzing around me, as with reeling brain and

confused vision they bore me up the great steps, and carried me into

a gorgeous church, the most splendidly ornamented building I had ever

beheld. Except, however, in the decorations of the ceiling, and the

images of saints which figured in niches high up, every trace of a

religious edifice had disappeared. The pulpit had gone--the chairs and

seats for the choir, the confessionals, the shrines, altars--all had

been uprooted, and a large table, at which some twenty officers were

seated writing, now occupied the elevated platform of the high altar,

while here and there stood groups of officers, with their reports from

their various corps or parties in out-stations. Many of these drew near

to me as I entered, and now the buzz of voices in question and rejoinder

swelled into a loud noise; and while some were recounting my feat with

all the seeming accuracy of eye-witnesses, others were as resolutely

protesting it all to be impossible. Suddenly the tumult was hushed, the

crowd fell back, and as the clanking muskets proclaimed ‘a salute,’ a

whispered murmur announced the ‘general.’

I could just see the waving plumes of his staff, as they passed up; and

then, as they were disappearing in the distance, they stopped, and one

hastily returned to the entrance of the church.

‘Where is this fellow? let me see him,’ cried he hurriedly, brushing his

way through the crowd. ‘Let him stand down; set him on his legs.’

‘He is too weak, _capitaine_,’ said a soldier.

‘Place him in a chair, then,’ said the aide-de-camp, for such he was.

‘You have made your escape from the English fleet, my man?’ continued

he, addressing me.

‘I am an officer, and your comrade,’ replied I proudly; for with all my

debility, the tone of his address stung me to the quick.

‘In what service, pray?’ asked he, with a sneering look at my motley

costume.

‘Your general shall hear where I have served, and how, whenever he is

pleased to ask me,’ was my answer.

‘Ay, _parbleu!_, cried three or four _sous-officiers_ in a breath, ‘the

general shall see him himself.’

And with a jerk they hoisted me once more on their shoulders, and with a

run--the regular storming tramp of the line--they advanced up the aisle

of the church, and never halted till within a few feet of where the

staff were gathered around the general. A few words--they sounded like a

reprimand--followed; a severe voice bade the soldiers ‘fall back,’ and

I found myself standing alone before a tall and very strongly built

man, with a large, red-brown beard; he wore a grey upper coat over his

uniform, and carried a riding-whip in his hand.

‘Get him a seat. Let him have a glass of wine,’ cried he quickly, as he

saw the tottering efforts I was making to keep my legs. ‘Are you better

now?’ asked he, in a voice which, rough as it was, sounded kindly.

Seeing me so far restored, he desired me to recount my late adventure,

which I did in the fewest words, and the most concise fashion, I could.

Although never interrupting, I could mark that particular portions of

my narrative made much impression on him, and he could not repress a

gesture of impatience when I told him that I was impressed as a seaman

to fight against the flag of my own country.

‘Of course, then,’ cried he, ‘you were driven to the alternative of this

attempt.’

‘Not so, general,’ said I, interrupting; ‘I had grown to be very

indifferent about my own fortunes. I had become half fatalist as to

myself. It was on very different grounds, indeed, that I dared this

danger. It was to tell you, for if I mistake not I am addressing General

Massvna, tidings of deep importance.’

I said these words slowly and deliberately, and giving them all the

impressiveness I was able.

‘Come this way, friend,’ said he, and, assisting me to arise, he led me

a short distance off, and desired me to sit down on the steps in front

of the altar railing. ‘Now, you may speak freely. I am the General

Masséna, and I have only to say, that if you really have intelligence of

any value for me, you shall be liberally rewarded; but if you have not,

and if the pretence be merely an effort to impose on one whose cares

and anxieties are already hard to bear, it would be better that you had

perished on sea than tried to attempt it.’

There was a stern severity in the way he said this, which for a moment

or two actually overpowered me. It was quite clear that he looked for

some positive fact, some direct piece of information on which he might

implicitly rely; and here was I now with nothing save the gossip of some

English lieutenants, the idle talk of inexperienced young officers.

I was silent. From the bottom of my heart I wished that I had never

reached the shore, to stand in a position of such humiliation as this.

‘So, then, my caution was not unneeded,’ said the general, as he bent

his heavy brows upon me. ‘Now, sir, there is but one amende you can make

for this; tell me frankly, have others sent you on this errand, or is

the scheme entirely of your own devising? Is this an English plot, or is

there a Bourbon element in it?’

‘Neither one nor the other,’ said I boldly, for indignation at last gave

me courage. ‘I hazarded my life to tell you what I overheard among the

officers of the fleet yonder; you may hold their judgment cheap; you may

not think their counsels worth the pains of listening to; but I could

form no opinion of this, and only thought if these tidings could reach

you, you might profit by them.’

‘And what are they?’ asked he bluntly.

‘They said that your force was wasting away by famine and disease; that

your supplies could not hold out above a fortnight; that your granaries

were empty, and your hospitals filled.’

‘They scarcely wanted the gift of second-sight to see this,’ said he

bitterly. ‘A garrison in close siege for four months may be suspected of

as much.’

‘Yes; but they said that as Soult’s force fell back upon the city, your

position would be rendered worse.’

‘Fell back from where?’ asked he, with a searching look at me.

‘As I understood, from the Apennines,’ replied I, growing more confident

as I saw that he became more attentive. ‘If I understood them aright,

Soult held a position called the “Monte Faccio.” Is there such a name?’

‘Go on,’ said he, with a nod of assent.

‘That this could not long be tenable without gaining the highest

fortified point of the mountain. The “Monte Creto” they named it.’

‘The attempt on which has failed!’ said Masséna, as if carried away by

the subject; ‘and Soult himself is a prisoner! Go on.’

‘They added, that now but one hope remained for this army.’

‘And what was that, sir?’ said he fiercely. ‘What suggestion of cunning

strategy did these sea-wolves intimate?’

‘To cut your way through the blockade, and join Suchet’s corps,

attacking the Austrians at the Monte Ratte, and by the sea-road gaining

the heights of Bochetta.’

‘Do these heroic spirits know the strength of the same Austrian corps?

did they tell you that it numbered fifty-four thousand bayonets?’

‘They called them below forty thousand; and that now that Bonaparte was

on his way through the Alps, perhaps by this over the Mount Cenis----’

‘What! did they say this? Is Bonaparte so near us?’ cried he, placing a

hand on either shoulder, as he stared me in the face.

‘Yes; there is no doubt of that. The despatch to Lord Keith brought the

news a week ago, and there is no secret made about it in the fleet.’

‘Over Mount Cenis!’ repeated he to himself. ‘Already in Italy!’

‘Holding straight for Milan, Lord Keith thinks,’ added I.

‘No, sir, straight for the Tuileries,’ cried Masséna sternly; and

then correcting himself suddenly, he burst into a forced laugh. I must

confess that the speech puzzled me sorely at the time, but I lived

to learn its meaning; and many a time have I wondered at the shrewd

foresight which even then read the ambitious character of the future

Emperor.

‘Of this fact, then, you are quite certain. Bonaparte is on his march

hither?’

‘I have heard it spoken of every day for the last week,’ replied I; ‘and

it was in consequence of this that the English officers used to remark,

if Masséna but knew it, he’d make a dash at them, and clear his way

through at once.’

‘They said this, did they?’ said he, in a low voice, and as if pondering

over it.

‘Yes; one and all agreed in thinking there could not be a doubt of the

result.’

‘Where have you served, sir?’ asked he, suddenly turning on me, and with

a look that showed he was resolved to test the character of the witness.

‘With Moreau, sir, on the Rhine and the Schwarz-wald; in Ireland with

Humbert.’

‘Your regiment?’

‘The Ninth Hussar.’

‘The “Tapageurs”’ said he, laughing. ‘I know them, and glad I am not to

have their company here at this moment; you were a lieutenant?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, supposing that, on the faith of what you have told me, I was

to follow the wise counsel of these gentlemen, would you like the

alternative of gaining your promotion in the event of success, or being

shot by a _peloton_ if we fail.’

‘They seem sharp terms, sir,’ said I, smiling, ‘when it is remembered

that no individual efforts of mine can either promote one result or the

other.’

‘Ay, but they can, sir,’ cried he quickly. ‘If you should turn out to

be an Austro-English spy; if these tidings be of a character to lead

my troops into danger; if, in reliance on you, I should be led to

compromise the honour and safety of a French army--your life, were it

worth ten thousand times over your own value of it, would be a sorry

recompense. Is this intelligible?’

‘Far more intelligible than flattering,’ said I, laughing; for I saw

that the best mode to treat him was by an imitation of his own frank and

careless humour. ‘I have already risked that life you hold so cheaply to

convey this information, but I am still ready to accept the conditions

you offer me, if, in the event of success, my name appear in the

despatch.’

He again stared at me with his dark and piercing eyes; but I stood

the glance with a calm conscience, and he seemed so to read it, for he

said--

‘Be it so. I will, meanwhile, test your prudence. Let nothing of this

interview transpire--not a word of it among the officers and comrades

you shall make acquaintance with. You shall serve on my own staff. Go

now, and recruit your strength for a couple of days, and then report

yourself at headquarters when ready for duty.--Latrobe, look to the

Lieutenant Tiernay; see that he wants for nothing, and let him have a

horse and a uniform as soon as may be.’

Captain Latrobe, the future General of Division, was then a young gay

officer of about five-and-twenty, very good-looking, and full of life

and spirits--a buoyancy which the terrible uncertainties of the siege

could not repress.

‘Our general talks nobly, Tiernay,’ said he, as he gave me his arm to

assist me; ‘but you ‘ll stare when I tell you that “wanting for nothing”

means, having four ounces of black bread, and ditto of blue cheese, per

diem; and as to a horse, if I possessed such an animal, I’d have given

a dinner-party yesterday and eaten him. You look surprised, but when you

see a little more of us here, you’ll begin to think that prison rations

in the fleet yonder were luxuries compared to what we have. No matter,

you shall take share of my superabundance; and if I have little else to

offer, I’ll show you a view from my window, finer than anything you ever

looked on in your life, and with a sea-breeze that would be glorious if

it didn’t make one hungry.’

While he thus rattled on, we reached the street, and there, calling a

couple of soldiers forward, he directed them to carry me along to his

quarters, which lay in the upper town, on an elevated plateau that

overlooked the city and the bay together.

From the narrow lanes, flanked with tall, gloomy houses, and steep,

ill-paved streets, exhibiting poverty and privation of every kind, we

suddenly emerged into an open space of grass, at one side of which a

handsome iron railing stood, with a richly ornamented gate, gorgeously

gilded. Within this was a garden and a fish-pond, surrounded with

statues, and farther on, a long, low villa, whose windows reached to

the ground, and were shaded by a deep awning of striped blue and white

canvas.

Camellias, orange-trees, cactuses, and magnolias abounded everywhere;

tulips and hyacinths seemed to grow wild; and there was in the

half-neglected look of the spot something of savage luxuriance that

heightened the effect immensely.

‘This is my Paradise, Tiernay, only wanting an Eve to be perfect,’ said

Latrobe, as he set me down beneath a spreading lime-tree. ‘Yonder are

your English friends; there they stretch away for miles beyond that

point. That’s the Monte Creto, you may have heard of; and there’s

the Bochetta. In that valley, to the left, the Austrian outposts are

stationed; and from those two heights closer to the shore, they are

gracious enough to salute us every evening after sunset, and even

prolong the attention sometimes the whole night through. Turn your eyes

in this direction, and you’ll see the “cornice” road, that leads to la

belle France, but of which we see as much from this spot as we are ever

like to do. So much for the geography of our position; and now to look

after your breakfast. You have, of course, heard that we do not revel in

superfluities. Never was the boasted excellence of our national cookery

more severely tested, for we have successively descended from cows and

sheep to goats, horses, donkeys, dogs, occasionally experimenting on

hides and shoe-leather, till we ended by regarding a rat as a rarity,

and deeming a mouse a delicacy of the season. As for vegetables,

there would not have been a flowering plant in all Genoa, if tulip

and ranunculus roots had not been bitter as aloes. These seem very

inhospitable confessions, but I make them the more freely since I am

about to treat you _en gourmet_. Come in now, and acknowledge that

juniper bark isn’t bad coffee, and that commissary bread is not to be

thought of “lightly.”’

In this fashion did my comrade invite me to a meal, which, even with

this preface, was far more miserable and scanty than I looked for.

Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune · 第 34 / 54 章