Scott and Taylor.
We presented to our readers a few days ago an extract from the autobiography of Winfield Scott, that illustrious defunct, who has been lying in state, in a fine hotel in New York, since the beginning of the war. His reputation was decently buried soon after the first battle of Manassas--his body still survives; though, having parted with his reputation, he is naturally engaged in trying to take his own life, and, judging from the specimen furnished by his autobiography, he is endeavoring to do it with a very dull instrument. The paragraph copied in the Dispatch is an attack upon old General Taylor, commonly called "Rough and Ready," whom Scott, the greatest man alive or dead, in his own estimation, disposes of, now that Taylor is dead, in a truculent and merciless fashion. We have nothing to say of the good taste of making a hyena-like descent into the tomb of an old comrade in arms. This is a thing eminently in Scott's line. But, whilst he is endeavoring to make General Taylor ridiculous, he treats his readers to an exhibition of characteristic complacency and pretension that throws completely into the shade honest Old Zach's defects and prejudices, and makes them quite dignified and respectable. In what we have to say on this subject we are not governed by antipathies to Scott because of his Unionism. General Taylor was as good a Union man while he lived as Scott, and, for aught we know, might have remained the same after secession. It is possible even that, in 1861, he might have planned the battle of Manassas, instead of Winfield Scott. We are very glad he did not, both on account of our ancient love of old Zach, and a strong assurance that he would have proved a much more troublesome customer than "the great soldier of the age." But we admired him as an honest, genuine man, as well as a gallant and successful soldier.--Thus much premised, we cannot express our contempt of the ignoble and ludicrous assault of Winfield Scott upon the dead lion. It is quite characteristic of the vain old person that he dilates upon General Taylor's ignorance — not of the military art, mind you, but of literature, of which the said Winfield is such a brilliant ornament. Taylor had not enlarged and refreshed his mind by reading, quoth Scott, or even by much converse with the world, having made his home at the frontier and small posts! He had a great "contempt for learning of every kind." In addition to this, oh shocking! if an officer looked like a coxcomb, he was given to calling him so, and would not, to use his oft-repeated phrase, "touch him with a pair of tongs. " An unpardonable offence in the eyes of "Fuss and Feathers." The old man seems to have been as prejudiced and illiberal as Percy, surnamed Hotspur. Winfield, who is familiar with the English classics, and who is one of the first of classics himself, will remember: ‘ " I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew.Than one of these same metre-ballad mongers."
’ And again: ‘ "But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathless with rage, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom, &c, &c,.
To be so pester'd with a popingay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Answer'd negligently, I know not what."
’ --Probably that he "would not touch him with a pair of tongs." It is true enough that Old Zach had little learning; and if he had possessed ever so much — as much, for instance, as Scott and Bacon — we doubt whether it would have made him any more efficient in the Northwest, in Florida, or Mexico. He might have talked Latin to Black Hawk, Greek to Osceola, and Hebrew to Santa Anna, without once convincing them of the error of their ways. Why, even Scott, who, every one knows, is as familiar with each of these languages as with his mother tongue — with which no man ever took greater liberties, --could not convince the people of the United States that he was a better soldier than General Taylor. Every one knows that Scott is an author of great and versatile genius, --that he wrote the Commentaries on the Bible, in such general use among evangelical persuasions, and also the Waverly Novels. But this did not enable him so far to outshine Old Zach in the field as to become President of the United States! Hence those tears! --However, Scott graciously concedes that Taylor had "a good store of common sense." It is a pity that Taylor cannot return the compliment. No man ever possessed less of that substantial commodity than Winfield Scott. He even admits, in his lofty style, that Taylor "was kind, sincere and hospitable, in a plain way." No one ever said that of Scott. His kindness, sincerity and hospitality, were all of a gorgeous, gala kind. Old Zach, whose pedigree was "F. F. V.," and whose purse could have paid with ease even Winfield Scott's debts, never approached that magnifico in hospitality at other people's expense. " The frontier and small posts had been his home." Undoubtedly they had, although he had a plantation in Louisiana that would have enabled him to live in baronial style. He preferred to do his duty, however, on "the frontier and small posts," whilst Scott flourished about in large cities, with equipages not paid for, and went to Europe, expecting to excite a sensation in countries which were yet reeling under the tread of Napoleon's demigods. For had not Scott killed the King's English at Lundy's Lane and Chippewa, and has he not been repeating the same performance in his autobiography? The sting of this famous assault upon General Taylor lies in the tail of the paragraph. "In the blindness of his great weakness, he, after being named for the Presidency, seriously wronged" Winfield Scott. The autobiographer does not condescend to explain when and how. As he has a remarkable memory for wrongs, we are surprised at the omission. We never heard that Taylor ever wronged Scott before his nomination to the Presidency, or afterwards, except by being elected. The head and front of his offending hath this extent, no more. Scott afterwards tried to reach the same office, but all his learning, literature and feathers, failed to effect it. He had not "made his home on the frontier and small posts," nor did he make it in the White House. "I wonder," exclaims the author of Philip Firmin, "are all old men humbugs?" Certainly not. We know one old man, however, open to that imputation. It was not Zachary Taylor.
