Descending On France 1780
Chapter 207 - 200 Rome Orthodox Italian

Chapter 207: 200 Rome Orthodox Italian

Italians are busily discussing Anning’s military achievements as he comes out from the headquarters.

The Milanese Redwoods watched as Julian, the General’s horse boy, led the General’s horse over. The bearded man joked, "This horse boy would be a perfect fit for Baz to work as; I wonder if the General would like an Italian horse boy."

Someone immediately responded, "Baz wanting to become the General’s horse boy would need a name change. I heard that the horse boy changed his name to Julian, which is the name of a Roman Emperor."

Italy also had a Rome, so Italians inherently see themselves as the true successors of Rome, especially the revolutionaries against Austria, using this to mock the Holy Roman Empire.

Voltaire’s famous saying was very popular in Italy under the rule of the Holy Roman: "The Holy Roman Empire is neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire."

The General mounted the horse and waved to the Italians as he passed.

A bold Italian shouted, "General, where are you rushing off to?"

The General responded with a smile, "I heard the Austrians are running with their tails between their legs; I’m off to check the situation."

At this, the Italians burst into a discussion: "They ran?"

"Weren’t there supposed to be Austrian forces near Trent? Aren’t they coming down?"

"Seriously, if I’d known the Austrians would flee, I wouldn’t have raced here so urgently, fearing to miss the opportunity for battle."

To their surprise, the General heard this grumbling, looking at the Italians who spoke: "Even though the Austrians have fled, all our previous efforts weren’t in vain. We still have a significant advantage on the field, but I must trouble you to continue trekking in the snow for a few more days."

After finishing speaking, the General turned his horse around and trotted down the slope leading from the plateau to the Adige River Valley.

The General’s close army officers followed in a grand procession, including two non-uniformed figures.

"Look," the bearded man whispered, "He even brings two jesters to the battlefield."

Baz looked puzzled, "Jesters?"

"Yes, also called minstrels, those two not in uniform, one is a painter and the other is a musician, the General carries them around everywhere."

"Why are they called jesters?" Baz asked.

"Haven’t you seen a comedy? The plays performed in the open-air theaters in Milan nightly, every king has two guys who do nothing but fawn and goof around just to amuse their master, those are called jesters."

Truly, Italy is a land of art where even a long-trousered bearded man could discuss drama like those noble-born in breeches.

But Baz was quite unfortunate; being too young, he had no experience with such things.

He could only rely on the wings of his imagination.

"Jesters," Baz mumbled, imagining the scene where the General was in a bad mood, with the two jesters trying to cheer him up.

**

Meanwhile, Anning was pondering why the Austrians had suddenly retreated, when he suddenly saw an Italian from Redwood strapping a peculiar musical instrument to his body.

The military bands mainly consisted of drums and various horns, with some countries using bagpipes and flutes, but Anning knew of no military band that played string instruments.

Thus, Anning slowed his horse and asked the Italian, "What kind of instrument is that?"

The Italian responded in a Venetian accent, "This is a mandolin, my treasure, General."

A nearby soldier exclaimed, "It’s his wife!"

Then everyone burst out laughing.

Anning then remembered that Italy indeed had a traditional instrument called a mandolin, which looked like a round, flattened pipa.

Anning last saw this musical instrument in Nicholas Cage’s war movie "Captain Colin’s Mandolin," which vividly portrayed how ineffective the Italians were during World War II.

However, Anning quite liked the movie, because it was very Italian; in the war, Italian soldiers were only concerned about eating well, drinking well, and romancing local girls, without worrying about whether they could fight. Talk about romantic!

Anning stopped his horse and specifically asked an Italian soldier from Redwood for the mandolin, fiddled with it, and plucked out a few notes.

The Italian asked, "General, do you want to learn how to play?"

Anning shook his head: "No, I currently have a whole fifty thousand or even more Austrians to worry about. They were about to fall into our pocket, but they ran off this morning without looking back."

"They must have been scared off by you," said the Italian with the mandolin, plucking a few chords.

Anning waved his hand and spurred his horse forward, continuing towards the Adige River Valley.

While moving forward, he asked Beethoven, who was going with him, "Are you familiar with the local Italian folk songs?"

Beethoven: "Folk songs played with a mandolin? Although I haven’t played this instrument, when you master one string instrument, you can generally make sense of the others. If you want your praised piece to feature a mandolin, I can learn it right away."

Anning looked at Beethoven, thinking to himself that he really is a master of music, mastering instruments by their types.

He suppressed his desire to ridicule this damned genius and continued talking about what he had just thought: "We now have Italian troops under our command, we should create some songs suitable for them to use. I think using the melody of local folk songs will lower the difficulty of acceptance. Sometimes folk songs have a unique charm and are especially effective for propaganda."

Then Anning started to hum the melody of "Ah, Friends, Goodbye," which was originally a song of Italian partisans, and in the Yugoslavian film "The Bridge," it seems it was first sung by an Italian partisan named Zavadoni.

Beethoven listened intently to the melody and smiled, "It sounds quite nice. I wonder what the lyrics are?"

Anning knew the lyrics were reworded by Yugoslavians, polished by domestic translators, so he hesitated and did not steal the "invention rights" of the original lyrics.

Italian partisans still sang this song to hang Mussolini, that could not be changed.

So Anning chose a safe response: "I didn’t hear it very clearly, I only caught a phrase ’Bella Chao’."

Beethoven, a German, frowned: "Bella Chao? Uh, sounds like goodbye in Italian. I recently heard it when a beautiful lady in a Milan salon was bidding me farewell."

Anning raised his eyebrows: "How did you end up attending a salon of beautiful women?"

Beethoven shrugged: "I am a musician."

What kind of answer is that?

Being a musician necessarily means attending salons of beautiful women?

At this moment, Napoleon interjected: "I’ve actually tried composing a few pieces myself. Ludwig, do you have time to take a look for me?"

Anning looked at his most capable officer, frowning slightly at his non-focus on duties.

In another timeline, Napoleon liked writing his own shabby novels, even romance stories.

In this timeline, well, he switched to composing music.

No wait, he seems to have written novels too! You have quite a range of hobbies, Napoleon!

Beethoven looked troubled: "Alright, I’ll take a look when I get a chance."

At this point, the painter David interjected: "Your Excellency, let’s put aside the matter of Italian music for a moment, what exactly happened to the Austrians, why did they suddenly run away?"

Anning glanced at David; he had already noticed that the painter and musician were secretly competing, each seeing who could contribute their talents to the great General (as they thought).

Since the conversation had been revolving around music, the painter felt neglected.

Anning: "That’s exactly what we’re going to find out. I want to see for myself the traces left by the Austrians; perhaps we’ll discover some clues."