Gen. Scott.
In looking lately over a review of Vincent Nolte's ‘"Fifty Years in America and Europe, "’ we found an interesting description of Paris after its occupation by the Allies. Having described the fierce looks of the French officers who wandered through the streets with their caps drawn over their eyes, and ready to demand a fight if any English officer happened to brush by them, Mr. Nolte thus amusingly refers to Gen. Scott, then on a visit to Paris, to improve, if that were possible, his military knowledge and receive the congratulations of the world:"Of all the commanders then assembled in Paris, the most dissatisfied was the America. General Scott, since noted for his campaign in Mexico, who had been opposed to the English on the Canada frontier, had taken a fort or two, and was looked upon by his countrymen as a military star of the very first magnitude--second only to Jackson, and equal to any other warrior then exact. He had been sent to Europe to increase his military knowledge and study the art of war, and reached Paris fully convinced that all the great chiefs of the continental armies would hasten to greet and compliment him. To his visible vexation he found himself completely mistaken. In the great military meetings in the French capital, where Wellington, Bincher, Schwarzenburg, Hatusoff, Wosonsuff, and a best of other celebrities, laden with stars and orders, were assembled, the long, thin man, in his blue coat, without embroidery and with only a pair of moderate sized epicenes, excited no attention.
‘"Scott could not get over the contrast between the figure he had so recently out in his native land and the insignificance he was condemned to in France, and he often exhibited bitter and somewhat laughable ill-humor."’
The last visit of old ‘"Fuss and Feathers"’ to Paris was almost as unsatisfactory as the first. The battle of Manassas had not added to his laurels, and the gorgeous old turkey cock came back with drooping feathers to renew his vainglorious gabbling among those who imagine him to be an eagle.
We observe that, he is now spreading his feather in New Jersey, and disporting himself in grand style over the imagined successes on the Peninsula. He chuckles hugely over McClellan's bulletins, and exclaims, ‘"Didn't I tell you so?"’ It is thus that one humbug exults in the success of another. With the exception of Brandreth's pills, wooden nutmegs, and Wingfield Scott, McClellan is the greatest humbug extant. His only triumph — in Western Virginia.--was gained by nine thousand over fifteen hundred men, and he has ever since (nearly a year) been employed in his ‘"On to Richmond."’ ‘"Didn't I tell you so?"’ quoth old Scott. A young Napoleon!
