memoir of fleeming jenkin-第9章

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report　of　the　cannon　sounded　close　to　our　ears　and　made　our　hearts　

sick；　I　assure　you。　　The　fighting　was　at　the　barrier　Rochechouart；　

a　few　streets　off。　　All　Saturday　and　Sunday　we　were　a　prey　to　great　

alarm；　there　came　so　many　reports　that　the　insurgents　were　getting　

the　upper　hand。　　One　could　tell　the　state　of　affairs　from　the　

extreme　quiet　or　the　sudden　hum　in　the　street。　　When　the　news　was　

bad；　all　the　houses　closed　and　the　people　disappeared；　when　better；　

the　doors　half　opened　and　you　heard　the　sound　of　men　again。　　From　

the　upper　windows　we　could　see　each　discharge　from　the　Bastille　…　I　

mean　the　smoke　rising　…　and　also　the　flames　and　smoke　from　the　

Boulevard　la　Chapelle。　　We　were　four　ladies；　and　only　Fleeming　by　

way　of　a　man；　and　difficulty　enough　we　had　to　keep　him　from　joining　

the　National　Guards　…　his　pride　and　spirit　were　both　fired。　　You　

cannot　picture　to　yourself　the　multitudes　of　soldiers；　guards；　and　

armed　men　of　all　sorts　we　watched　…　not　close　to　the　window；　

however；　for　such　havoc　had　been　made　among　them　by　the　firing　from　

the　windows；　that　as　the　battalions　marched　by；　they　cried；　〃Fermez　

vos　fenetres！〃　and　it　was　very　painful　to　watch　their　looks　of　

anxiety　and　suspicion　as　they　marched　by。'



'The　Revolution；'　writes　Fleeming　to　Frank　Scott；　'was　quite　

delightful：　　getting　popped　at　and　run　at　by　horses；　and　giving　

sous　for　the　wounded　into　little　boxes　guarded　by　the　raggedest；　

picturesquest；　delightfullest；　sentinels；　but　the　insurrection！　

ugh；　I　shudder　to　think　at　＇SIC＇　it。'　　He　found　it　'not　a　bit　of　

fun　sitting　boxed　up　in　the　house　four　days　almost。　。　。　I　was　the　

only　GENTLEMAN　to　four　ladies；　and　didn't　they　keep　me　in　order！　　I　

did　not　dare　to　show　my　face　at　a　window；　for　fear　of　catching　a　

stray　ball　or　being　forced　to　enter　the　National　Guard；　＇for＇　they　

would　have　it　I　was　a　man　full…grown；　French；　and　every　way　fit　to　

fight。　　And　my　mamma　was　as　bad　as　any　of　them；　she　that　told　me　I　

was　a　coward　last　time　if　I　stayed　in　the　house　a　quarter　of　an　

hour！　　But　I　drew；　examined　the　pistols；　of　which　I　found　lots　with　

caps；　powder；　and　ball；　while　sometimes　murderous　intentions　of　

killing　a　dozen　insurgents　and　dying　violently　overpowered　by　

numbers。　。　。　。　。'　　We　may　drop　this　sentence　here：　　under　the　

conduct　of　its　boyish　writer；　it　was　to　reach　no　legitimate　end。



Four　days　of　such　a　discipline　had　cured　the　family　of　Paris；　the　

same　year　Fleeming　was　to　write；　in　answer　apparently　to　a　question　

of　Frank　Scott's；　'I　could　find　no　national　game　in　France　but　

revolutions'；　and　the　witticism　was　justified　in　their　experience。　　

On　the　first　possible　day；　they　applied　for　passports；　and　were　

advised　to　take　the　road　to　Geneva。　　It　appears　it　was　scarce　safe　

to　leave　Paris　for　England。　　Charles　Reade；　with　keen　dramatic　

gusto；　had　just　smuggled　himself　out　of　that　city　in　the　bottom　of　

a　cab。　　English　gold　had　been　found　on　the　insurgents；　the　name　of　

England　was　in　evil　odour；　and　it　was　thus　…　for　strategic　reasons；　

so　to　speak　…　that　Fleeming　found　himself　on　the　way　to　that　Italy　

where　he　was　to　complete　his　education；　and　for　which　he　cherished　

to　the　end　a　special　kindness。



It　was　in　Genoa　they　settled；　partly　for　the　sake　of　the　captain；　

who　might　there　find　naval　comrades；　partly　because　of　the　

Ruffinis；　who　had　been　friends　of　Mrs。　Jenkin　in　their　time　of　

exile　and　were　now　considerable　men　at　home；　partly；　in　fine；　with　

hopes　that　Fleeming　might　attend　the　University；　in　preparation　for　

which　he　was　put　at　once　to　school。　　It　was　the　year　of　Novara；　

Mazzini　was　in　Rome；　the　dry　bones　of　Italy　were　moving；　and　for　

people　of　alert　and　liberal　sympathies　the　time　was　inspiriting。　　

What　with　exiles　turned　Ministers　of　State；　universities　thrown　

open　to　Protestants；　Fleeming　himself　the　first　Protestant　student　

in　Genoa；　and　thus；　as　his　mother　writes；　'a　living　instance　of　the　

progress　of　liberal　ideas'　…　it　was　little　wonder　if　the　

enthusiastic　young　woman　and　the　clever　boy　were　heart　and　soul　

upon　the　side　of　Italy。　　It　should　not　be　forgotten　that　they　were　

both　on　their　first　visit　to　that　country；　the　mother　still　child　

enough　'to　be　delighted　when　she　saw　real　monks'；　and　both　mother　

and　son　thrilling　with　the　first　sight　of　snowy　Alps；　the　blue　

Mediterranean；　and　the　crowded　port　and　the　palaces　of　Genoa。　　Nor　

was　their　zeal　without　knowledge。　　Ruffini；　deputy　for　Genoa　and　

soon　to　be　head　of　the　University；　was　at　their　side；　and　by　means　

of　him　the　family　appear　to　have　had　access　to　much　Italian　

society。　　To　the　end；　Fleeming　professed　his　admiration　of　the　

Piedmontese　and　his　unalterable　confidence　in　the　future　of　Italy　

under　their　conduct；　for　Victor　Emanuel；　Cavour；　the　first　La　

Marmora　and　Garibaldi；　he　had　varying　degrees　of　sympathy　and　

praise：　　perhaps　highest　for　the　King；　whose　good　sense　and　temper　

filled　him　with　respect　…　perhaps　least　for　Garibaldi；　whom　he　

loved　but　yet　mistrusted。



But　this　is　to　look　forward：　　these　were　the　days　not　of　Victor　

Emanuel　but　of　Charles　Albert；　and　it　was　on　Charles　Albert　that　

mother　and　son　had　now　fixed　their　eyes　as　on　the　sword…bearer　of　

Italy。　　On　Fleeming's　sixteenth　birthday；　they　were；　the　mother　

writes；　'in　great　anxiety　for　news　from　the　army。　　You　can　have　no　

idea　what　it　is　to　live　in　a　country　where　such　a　struggle　is　going　

on。　　The　interest　is　one　that　absorbs　all　others。　　We　eat；　drink；　

and　sleep　to　the　noise　of　drums　and　musketry。　　You　would　enjoy　and　

almost　admire　Fleeming's　enthusiasm　and　earnestness　…　and；　courage；　

I　may　say　…　for　we　are　among　the　small　minority　of　English　who　side　

with　the　Italians。　　The　other　day；　at　dinner　at　the　Consul's；　boy　

as　he　is；　and　in　spite　of　my　admonitions；　Fleeming　defended　the　

Italian　cause；　and　so　well　that　he　〃tripped　up　the　heels　of　his　

adversary〃　simply　from　being　well…informed　on　the　subject　and　

honest。　　He　is　as　true　as　steel；　and　for　no　one　will　he　bend　right　

or　left。　。　。　。　。　　Do　not　fancy　him　a　Bobadil；'　she　adds；　'he　is　

only　a　very　true；　candid　boy。　　I　am　so　glad　he　remains　in　all　

respects　but　information　a　great　child。'



If　this　letter　is　correctly　dated；　the　cause　was　already　lost　and　

the　King　had　already　abdicated　when　these　lines　were　written。　　No　

sooner　did　the　news　reach　Genoa；　than　there　began　'tumultuous　

movements'；　and　the　Jenkins'　received　hints　it　would　be　wise　to　

leave　the　city。　　But　they　had　friends　and　interests；　even　the　

captain　had　English　officers　to　keep　him　company；　for　Lord　

Hardwicke's　ship；　the　VENGEANCE；　lay　in　port；　and　supposing　the　

danger　to　be　real；　I　cannot　but　suspect　the　whole　family　of　a　

divided　purpose；　prudence　being　possibly　weaker　than　curiosity。　　

Stay；　at　least；　they　did；　and　thus　rounded　their　experience　of　the　

revolutionary　year。　　On　Sunday；　April　1；　Fleeming　and　the　captain　

went　for　a　ramble　beyond　the　walls；　leaving　Aunt　Anna　and　Mrs。　

Jenkin　to　walk　on　the　bastions　with　some　friends。　　On　the　way　back；　

this　party　turned　aside　to　rest　in　the　Church　of　the　Madonna　delle　

Grazie。　　'We　had　remarked；'　writes　Mrs。　Jenkin；　'the　entire　absence　

of　sentinels　on　the　ramparts；　and　how　the　cannons　were　left　in　

solitary　state；　and　I　had　just　remarked　〃How　quiet　everything　is！〃　

when　suddenly　we　heard　the　drums　begin　to　beat　and　distant　shouts。　　

ACCUSTOMED　AS　WE　ARE　to　revolutions；　we　never　thought　of　being　

frightened。'　　For　all　that；　they　resumed　their　return　home。　　On　the　

way　they　saw　men　running　and　vociferating；　but　nothing　to　indicate　

a　general　disturbance；　until；　near　the　Duke's　palace；　they　came　

upon　and　passed　a　shouting　mob　dragging　along　with　it　three　cannon。　　

It　had　scarcely　passed　before　they　heard　'a　rushing　sound'；　one　of　

the　gentlemen　thrust　back　the　party　of　ladies　under　a　shed；　and　the　

mob　passed　again。　　A　fine…looking　young　man　was　in　their　hands；　and　

Mrs。　Jen