The Bandolero Part 20

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It was my fortune to be among the favoured few. One or two incidents had occurred along the route--one more especially during the march upon Mexico--in which I had the opportunity of bestowing favour and protection. They were reciprocated tenfold by _proteges_--who chanced to be of the _familias princ.i.p.ales_ of Mexico.

During the three months that I lay upon the couch of convalescence, I was surrounded by luxuries brought me by grateful brothers. In the three months that followed I was overwhelmed by the caresses of their sweet sisters; all, of course, in an honest way.

It was a pleasant time; and, if anything could have made me forget Dolores Villa-Senor, this should have done it.

It did not. The sweetest smile I received in the Valley of Tenocht.i.tlan did not, and could not, stifle within my breast the bitter souvenir I had brought with me from the other side of the Cordillera.

Six months after the capture of the Summer Palace, my life in the city of the Moctezumas became dull indeed.



The theatres, slimly attended by the feminine _elite_ of the place; the b.a.l.l.s not attended at all, or only by questionable _poblanas_, and the plain wives and daughters of the foreign residents (why are they always plain in such places?) soon became unbearable.

Even dissipation could not redeem the dulness of the times.

For me the _monte_ table had no longer an attraction. The green cloth was spread out in vain; and I could stand by and hear, without the slightest emotion, "_Cavallo mozo_!" "_Soto en la puerta_!"

In truth my interest in all things appeared gone--all upon earth, with the exception of Dolores Villa-Senor; and she I could scarce think a thing of earth.

Just at this crisis there came a chance of distraction. I hailed it with a feeling of gladness.

The stray troops of the enemy had forsaken the roads that surrounded the capital--as had also their guerilleros. But still the ways were not safe. Partisans had disappeared, to be succeeded by _salteadores_!

From all sides came rumours of robbers--from Puebla on the east, Toluca on the west, Cuernavaca on the south, and the Llanos de Apam, that extend northward from the Valley of Tenocht.i.tlan. Scarce pa.s.sed a day without "novedades" of the bandits, and their devilish audacity: stage-coaches stopped; travellers commanded to lie flat along the earth, while their pockets were being turned inside out; and some stretched upon the ground never more to stand in an erect att.i.tude!

An escort of our dragoons could have prevented this--that is, upon any particular occasion. But to have sent an escort with every traveller, who had need to go forth out of the capital, would have required a score of squadrons of well-appointed cavalry. At the time we chanced to be short in this arm; and the distribution of our troops to Cuernavaca and Toluca, the strong force necessary to garrison Puebla--and the numerous detachments required to accompany the commissariat trains, left no cavalry disposable for eccentric service.

Till we should receive from Uncle Sam a reinforcement of dragoons, the robbers must be allowed to stop travellers and capture stage-coaches at discretion.

This was the condition of things, six months after the _second conquest_ of Mexico.

I, for one, did not like it. It was but a Christian instinct to hate robbers, wherever found; but in the town of Puebla I had imbibed for this cla.s.s of mankind a peculiar antipathy.

Experience and suspicion both formed its basis. I remembered Captain Carrasco, and I could not help remembering _Captain Moreno_!

A young artist who had accompanied our army throughout the campaign--and whose life-like pictures were the admiration of all who looked upon them--had been imprudent enough to risk travelling by _diligencia_ from Mexico to La Puebla. It was not his destiny to arrive at the City of the Angels--on earth; though it is to be hoped he has reached the abode of truer angels in heaven! He was murdered among the mountains of the _mal pais_--between the "venta" of Rio Frio and that of Cordova.

I had formed a strong attachment to this unfortunate youth. He had oft partaken of the hospitality of my tent; and, in return I suppose for such slight acts of kindness, in his great picture of the storming of Chapultepec, he had fixed my face upon the canvas, foremost--far foremost--of those who on that day dared to look over the well-defended walls.

The consciousness of having performed the feat did not render me less sensible of the kindness of its being recorded. I, a homeless, nameless, adventurer, with no one to sing my praise--save those who had witnessed my deeds--could not feel otherwise than grateful.

He saw, and sang them; in that verse in which he was a master--the poetry of the pencil.

I was half mad, when I heard that he had been murdered.

In twenty minutes after, I stood in the presence of the commander-in-chief.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE GREAT STRATEGIST.

"What is it, captain? One of my aides-de-camp tells me you have asked for an interview. Be brief with your business; I'm full of affairs just now." I was not a favourite at head-quarters. I had no flattery for the conceited septuagenarian who at this crisis commanded the American army.

Still his consent was necessary for my purpose. Without it I could do nought to avenge the death of my friend. That granted, I had conceived a scheme.

"What is it?" asked the general, with an air of impatience that augured ill for my success. "What is it you want?"

"Leave of absence, general."

"Why, you've been off duty for six months. How much more do you require?"

"Only six days."

"Six days! And for what purpose?"

"To punish these brigands who infest the road between here and Puebla.

I presume, general, you've been informed of their atrocities?"

"Of course I have. But what can I do? If I send a troop, they see the soldiers miles off, and won't stand to be attacked. It's like chasing a wild goose."

"I think I have a plan by which they can be brought to close quarters, and some of them chastised. With your permission, I should like to make trial of it."

"But I have no cavalry just now to spare--not a single sabre. The Government is so stingy, they won't give me men enough to fill up the regular regiments. They think I can hold a great country like Mexico without horses--where the enemy are nearly all mounted too! No, Sir, I can't spare a single dragoon--much less your own company; and I suppose you would want to take that with you."

"On the contrary, general, I don't desire a single soldier from the ranks; at least only three or four of my own, whom I know to be men of courage. There are some dare-devils among our camp-followers--just the sort for such a purpose as mine. With a dozen of them, I fancy we can hold our own with the biggest band of brigands to be found among the mountains of Mexico."

"You are a brave man, captain; but I fear not much of a strategist."

Strategy was the G.o.d of this poor military simpleton, as it was of his favourite pupil, McClellan. It was the same sort of strategy that caused the rout at Bull's Run, and the consequent prolongation of the American civil war. But for it the army of the North might have stacked arms in the streets of Richmond in three weeks after leaving Was.h.i.+ngton, and the long sanguinary strife have been shunned.

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 ma.s.se_--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."

The Bandolero Part 20

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The Bandolero Part 20 summary

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