酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

Tracks of a Rolling Stone-Part1_Henry J.Coke(1827-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
was within the range of my experience that boys of my age



occasionally slept in the same bed. But that a grown up man

should sleep in the same bed with his wife was quite beyond



my notion of the fitness of things. I was so staggered, so

long in taking in this astounding novelty, that I could not



at first deliver my grandfathers message. The moment I had

done so, I rushed back to the breakfast room, and in a loud



voice proclaimed to the company what I had seen. My tale

produced all the effect I had anticipated, but mainly in the



shape of amusement. One wag - my uncle Henry Keppel - asked

for details, gravely declaring he could hardly credit my



statement. Every one, however, seemed convinced by the

circumstantial nature of my evidence when I positively



asserted that their heads were not even at opposite ends of

the bed, but side by side upon the same pillow.



A still greater soldier than Lord Anglesey used to come to

Holkham every year, a great favourite of my father's; this



was Lord Lynedoch. My earliest recollections of him owe

their vividness to three accidents - in the logical sense of



the term: his silky milk-white locks, his Spanish servant

who wore earrings - and whom, by the way, I used to confound



with Courvoisier, often there at the same time with his

master Lord William Russell, for the murder of whom he was



hanged, as all the world knows - and his fox terrier Nettle,

which, as a special favour, I was allowed to feed with



Abernethy biscuits.

He was at Longford, my present home, on a visit to my father



in 1835, when, one evening after dinner, the two old

gentlemen - no one else being present but myself - sitting in



armchairs over the fire, finishing their bottle of port, Lord

Lynedoch told the wonderful story of his adventures during



the siege of Mantua by the French, in 1796. For brevity's

sake, it were better perhaps to give the outline in the words



of Alison. 'It was high time the Imperialists should advance

to the relief of this fortress, which was now reduced to the



last extremity from want of provisions. At a council of war

held in the end of December, it was decided that it was



indispensable that instantintelligence should be sent to

Alvinzi of their desperate situation. An English officer,



attached to the garrison, volunteered to perform the perilous

mission, which he executed with equal courage and success.



He set out, disguised as a peasant, from Mantua on December

29, at nightfall in the midst of a deep fall of snow, eluded



the vigilance of the French patrols, and, after surmounting a

thousand hardships and dangers, arrived at the headquarters



of Alvinzi, at Bassano, on January 4, the day after the

conferences at Vicenza were broken up.



'Great destinies awaited this enterprising officer. He was

Colonel Graham, afterwards victor at Barrosa, and the first



British general who planted the English standard on the soil

of France.'



This bare skeleton of the event was endued 'with sense and

soul' by the narrator. The 'hardships and dangers' thrilled



one's young nerves. Their two salient features were ice

perils, and the no less imminent one of being captured and



shot as a spy. The crossing of the rivers stands out

prominently in my recollection. All the bridges were of



course guarded, and he had two at least within the enemy's

lines to get over - those of the Mincio and of the Adige.



Probably the lagunes surrounding the invested fortress would

be his worst difficulty. The Adige he described as beset



with a two-fold risk - the avoidance of the bridges, which

courted suspicion, and the thin ice and only partially frozen



river, which had to be traversed in the dark. The vigour,

the zest with which the wiry veteran 'shoulder'd his crutch



and show'd how fields were won' was not a thing to be

forgotten.



Lord Lynedoch lived to a great age, and it was from his house

at Cardington, in Bedfordshire, that my brother Leicester



married his first wife, Miss Whitbread, in 1843. That was

the last time I saw him.






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号