Автор: Ian Brunskill
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9780007359301
isbn:
His sword was a fine cavalry blade, forged in England and the gift of English friends. The sabre did good slashing work at need, and at Milazzo, in Sicily, it bore him out safely from a knot of Neopolitan troopers who caught him by surprise and fancied they had him at their discretion. Garibaldi carried no other weapons, though the officers in his suite had pistols and daggers at their belts; and his negro groom, by name Aguyar, who for a long time followed him as his shadow, like Napoleon’s Mameluke, and was shot dead by his side at Rome, was armed with a long lance with a crimson pennon, used as his chief’s banner. His staff officers were a numerous, quaint, and motley crew, men of all ages and conditions, mostly devoted personal friends – not all of them available for personal strength or technical knowledge but all to be relied upon for their readiness to die with or for him. Some of the most distinguished, like Nino Bixio, Medici, Sirtori, Cosenz, &c, had all the headlong bravery of their General – more than that no man could boast – and were his superiors in intelligence and in professional experience, ably conducting as his lieutenants field operations which he was, from some cause or other, unable to attend.
The veterans he brought with him from Montevideo, a Genoese battalion whom his friend Augusto Vecchi helped to enlist, and the Lombard Legion, under Manara, were all men of tried valour, well trained to the use of the rifle, inured to hardships and privations, and they constituted the nucleus of the Garibaldian force throughout its campaigns. The remainder was a shapeless mass of raw recruits from all parts of Italy, joining or leaving the band almost at their pleasure – mere boys from the Universities, youths of noble and rich family, lean artisans from the towns, stout peasants and labourers from the country, adventurers of indifferent character, deserters from the army, and the like, all marching in loose companies, like Falstaff’s recruits, under improvised officers and non-commissioned officers; but all, or most of them, entirely disinterested about pay or promotion, putting up with long fasts and heavy marches, only asking to be brought face to face with the enemy, and when under the immediate influence of Garibaldi himself or of his trusty friends seldom guilty of soldierly excesses or of any breach of discipline. The effect the presence of the hero had among them was surprising. A word addressed to them in his clear, ringing, silver voice electrified even the dullest. An order coming from him was never questioned, never disregarded. No one waited for a second bidding or an explanation. ‘Your business is not to inquire how you are to storm that position. You must only go and do it.’ And it was done.
This extract from the obituary of Garibaldi published in The Times of 3rd and 5th June 1882 deals with his life as a military commander. He had two great qualities that every soldier yearns to see in his leader: he knew what to do in every situation that confronted him-and he won.
Chief of the Prairie Sioux
17 DECEMBER 1890
SITTING BULL IS DEAD. He has fallen as dramatically as he has lived, in conflict with the hated whites, or their Indian mercenaries. Were the Red Indians a people possessed of vitality sufficient to throw off fresh legends, the old chief might figure in ages to come as the hero of some wild saga, credited with stupendous victories against the advancing hordes of white men, and with a miraculous translation to the happy hunting grounds of the Great Spirit. In truth Sitting Bull approaches nearer to the ideal of a national hero than any Indian of recent times. For all we know, he may have worn trousers and a stove- pipe hat. These are weaknesses from which the greatest modern braves are not exempt.
There would be, moreover, according to civilized ideas, some difficulty in allowing the quality of heroism to a chief who dissects the writhing bodies of his captives in war, drives splinters under their fingernails, and lights slow fires upon their stomachs. But we must not expect to find the Red Indian- of all savages the most unteachable and the most impervious to civilized influences – endowed with Christian virtues. It would even be unfair to compare Sitting Bull and his athletic son, who headed his father’s rescue and shared his father’s fate, with Tecumseh and Uncas, or any other of Fenimore Cooper’s redskin heroes. There is a tolerably general opinion among those who have studied the Indian character in later days that Tecumseh and Uncas were impossible Indians. With all his craftiness and vindictiveness – faults that are virtues in savage codes of morality – Sitting Bull has been a very picturesque figure in American history for twenty years past as one of the last champions of a decaying race. His career will some day fill a page of romance.
The romancer, let us hope, will discreetly forget that his hero allowed himself to be dragged at the tail of Colonel Cody’s ‘Wild West Show.’ That reminiscence would rather jar upon the rest of the story. But let us not make too much of what seems to us a humiliation. The Indian stoic sees these things with different eyes. For him there is no more ignominy in exhibiting himself for hire in a circus than in wearing the hats and trousers of the white man, or begging for rum or rations. Whether herein he be a philosopher or a child, it is not for us to say.
President Harrison is reported to have expressed a confident hope that, the prime disturber of the peace being out of the way, the Indian difficulty would be settled without bloodshed. Those who know the Indians well are not equally hopeful. The skirmish or affray in which Sitting Bull lost his life – whether by the bullets of the Indian police. or of his rescuers – may prove to have precipitated the conflict which has been for a long time impending. Very probably Sitting Bull had, as the authorities allege, made up his mind to join the band of Sioux who were raiding settlers’ cattle from their strongholds in the ‘Bad Lands,’ and, if so, then it was right and expedient to arrest him, although not with the inadequate force despatched for the purpose. But, whatever his intentions, Sitting Bull can by no stretch of imagination be said to be the cause of the Messianic craze which is now inflaming the imaginations of not only Sioux, but Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Apaches, Utes, and other tribes. Although physical exhaustion and hard weather have apparently stopped the ‘ghost-dances,’ the exaltation and unrest arising from the predicted appearance of a deliverer from the whites still continue and have to be reckoned with. In this very combustible state of Indian feeling there is a danger that the fight near Sitting Bull’s camp may kindle a serious conflagration. The braves who attempted to rescue Sitting Bull have tasted blood.
Through the injudicious action of the authorities they were allowed to score a decided advantage over the arresting party before the arrival of cavalry armed with Gatlings made further conflict impossible. The Americans call it a victory; but it was a victory in which their own side seems to have suffered as severely as the Sioux, and to have brought away from the field a very lively appreciation of the accuracy of the rebels’ shooting: Moreover, no attempt was made to follow up the defeated party, who made good their retreat to the hostile camp in the ‘Bad Lands.’ It is certain that if the rebel Sioux, thus reinforced, think it worth while to resist, their subjugation will be a more serious business than GENERAL BROOKE’S telegram represents it, and, in the meanwhile, a general uprising of the Indians might change the situation altogether. The Americans owe it to their credit as a humane nation to see that the war of extermination to which some of their Generals look forward with complacency is not provoked by the ‘energetic treatment’ so popular in American military circles. The saying current among United States soldiers that ‘the only good Indian is a dead Indian’ expresses a sentiment which is responsible for many atrocious massacres and needless wars.
The information provided to the American press was that that Sitting Bull and his son had been killed when the Indian police arrested Sitting Bull, as they had heard that he intended going to ‘Badlands’. A troop of cavalry followed the police, and upon their arrival at Sitting Bull’s camp, it was evident that arrangements had already been made for СКАЧАТЬ