The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the MountainsReid, Mayne
History
The Bandolero; Or, A Marriage among the Mountains
Reid, Mayne
Mexico -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
Well do I remember both preceptor and pupil. There was bad management
in Virginia; exactly what I should have expected from my experience of
their tactics in Mexico. In our campaign through the country of the
Aztecs the latter was scarcely known, or only as a smart drill master.
Nor would he ever after have been heard of, but for the patronage of his
superannuated Chief--the "Grand Strategist," as he was desirous of being
deemed.
The last remark of the general gave me the cue to flatter him.
In hopes of obtaining my end, I availed myself of the opportunity.
"General!" I said, with a look of real reverence, "I am aware there
will not appear much strategy in what I propose--at least to you, who
are capable of grand combinations. My idea is of the simplest."
"Well, let us hear it, captain. Perhaps it may show better in detail.
A great deal depends upon that. An army brought into the field _en
masse_--as Napoleon would say--with its infantry here and its artillery
there, and the cavalry scattered over the ground, is like a machine
without screws. It must soon fall to pieces. I never move my
battalions in that way. If I had--"
"If you had, general," I meekly interposed, seeing that he had made a
pause, "you wouldn't have been here now, as you are--conqueror of the
capital of Mexico."
"You are right, captain; quite right!" rejoined he, evidently beginning
to like me, "Quite right, sir. And don't you think that Cortez's
campaign was inferior to that which _I_--_I_--have had the honour of
planning; and of conducting, Sir--conducting?"
"A mere skirmish to it."
"A skirmish, sir--a skirmish! His enemies a crowd of naked savages--
that's what they were--nothing but slings and bows with which to defend
themselves. Not a gun among them; while _I_--_I_, sir, have defeated a
grand disciplined army, under the greatest general these Mexicans have
ever produced; for, say what you like of Santa Anna, the rascal is a
thorough soldier--a regular, sir, a regular--not a volunteer. I detest
volunteers; and it's a great shame for the Government to have sent me so
many of them. They've fought well, I admit; but they couldn't help it.
They were properly handled, sir; and they had my old regulars alongside
of them. How could they hang back, when they saw who was at their head?
My presence inspired them; and the consequence is, that they fought and
conquered this great country in less than half the time it took Cortez
to do it. Therefore I say, sir, that the conquest of Winfield Scott
will shine upon the page of history far brighter than that of Fernando
Cortez."
"No doubt of it," was my insincere response, scarce able to conceal my
contempt for the huge military _bavard_.
"Well, sir," said he, after he had paced once or twice across the floor
in swelling grandeur, "you haven't stated your plans? Let's hear the
detail. My giving you permission may depend upon that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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