‘It’s clear to me that we owe you our thanks, Count von Richthofen,’ General José Urrea declared, after Beatriz Alvarez had finished telling him of how the Yaquis had been driven off. ‘You were right to make a stand instead of trying to run away.’
‘It wasn’t a decision that would have occurred to everybody,’ Colonel Sebastian Saucedo went on, throwing a meaning glance at Major Carlos Badillo.
Standing before the massive desk in the study at Urrea’s hacienda, Ole Devil Hardin decided that the majority of the woman’s audience were in favor of his tactics with the Yaquis. Even Badillo was not displaying any great feeling of grief on having learned that his second-in-command had been killed. That was probably due to the General’s clearly expressed disapproval at Escalier’s behavior—as expressed by Beatriz—prior to his death.
There had been no sign of the Yaquis after Beatriz’s party had resumed their interrupted journey. Nor, apart from there being a much more friendly atmosphere between the members of the escort and Mannen Blaze and Tommy Okasi, had anything else of note taken place on their way to the hacienda. From the way the soldiers had behaved, it was clear that if not forgotten, the way they had been handled in the fight at the Posada del Madonna was forgiven.
On reaching their destination, the woman had invited Ole Devil and Mannen to accompany her to meet the General. Ole Devil had suggested that he would prefer to have Tommy along and she had agreed. Leaving their horses and bedrolls in the care of the escort, with Sergeant Moreno’s promise that all would receive his personal attention and protection, the three young men had carried along their rifles and other weapons. Beatriz had said that Urrea would be most interested in the Brownings and Ole Devil, who was hoping to make use of them to strengthen his position with the general, had been pleased of the excuse to keep the weapons in his possession.
Obviously Saucedo and Badillo had known of the mission which had taken Beatriz to Matamoros. Both had arrived on the scene almost as soon as the coach had come to a halt in front of Urrea’s mansion. Although the major had been puzzled by Escalier’s absence, he had not mentioned it until the money was being transferred indoors from the coach. Nor had the woman enlightened him, beyond saying that the captain was dead, when he raised the question. She had promised that she would tell the full story in the General’s presence, and the major had had to be content with that. Like the Colonel, he had studied the Texians and Tommy. However, neither officer had been willing to make the first inquiries. So the reason for the trio being there had gone unexplained until they were all assembled in the General’s study.
While waiting outside the room until Beatriz had handed over the money and made her report to the General, her husband, Saucedo and Badillo, the little trio composed of Ole Devil, Mannen and Tommy had, compared notes on what they had observed since arriving at the hacienda. Urrea appeared to have allowed his Activos and Militia regiments to either disband or to return to the areas in which they had been recruited. However, the Tamaulipa Lancers and the ‘Landero’ Line Infantry Battalion were camped in semi-permanent lines just beyond the wall which surrounded the hacienda. That meant he had the nucleus of a well-trained and armed fighting force readily available. In fact, after what had happened at San Jacinto, he had the strongest command in the Mexican Army.
Called in to be introduced and hear Beatriz tell of their meeting and what had followed it, Ole Devil had examined the men who were responsible for him being in Mexico. Working in order of their military seniority, he drew his conclusions about each of them.
Seen at close quarters, the young Texian did not form a favorable opinion of Urrea. While big, there was a dullness in his eyes and a complacent air that suggested a self-indulgent nature. That he had courage and some military ability could not be doubted. He had won his rank during the struggle for independence from Spain and the bitter civil strife which had followed when it was attained. Yet he had nowhere near as commanding an appearance as General Samuel Houston, or for that matter the man he sought to depose, Presidente Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. In fact, to Ole Devil’s way of thinking, he did not have the aura of a natural leader.
Which raised the point of who was the power behind Urrea?
Whoever it was had, in all probability, masterminded the massacre of Colonel James W. Fannin and his command at Goliad.
Watching and listening to Saucedo, Ole Devil judged him to be a hard and tough man who had attained the rank of colonel by climbing on the bodies of his erstwhile superiors. To have done so suggested that he must have more than his share of drive and ambition. Uncouth, boorish, yet undoubtedly brave and with higher than average fighting ability both individually and as a leader, he appeared to have the drive to aspire to even higher positions. His qualities totaled up to form a powerful combination. Against them, his background and general outlook were almost sure to deprive him of the very important support he would need from the influential dignitaries of the Catholic Church and the moneyed classes.
Even if Saucedo was aware of his limitations, the young Texian wondered if he would be willing to act as the brains behind a more socially acceptable figurehead. Or if he would be subtle and tactful enough to prevent the man he selected from becoming aware of his manipulations.
As Ole Devil saw it, there was one major argument against Saucedo. Such a man, consumed with the intolerant and class-conscious bigotry of his kind, would never have permitted Badillo—who stood for everything he hated—to have achieved so exalted a standing in Urrea’s eyes as to be allowed to attend a meeting of a confidential and possibly important nature.
Where the cavalry major was concerned, the young Texian had more than personal observation and deductions to work upon. On resuming the journey after the abortive Yaqui attack, he had ridden ahead of the coach with Sergeant Moreno on the pretext of helping to watch out for further ambushes. Fired by his newly established admiration, the non-com had been all too willing to talk. After satisfying his curiosity regarding the Browning rifle, the Texian had turned the conversation to the Tamaulipa Lancers. He had established that Badillo was an officer of some merit. He would have to be before he could earn the loyalty and admiration of a hard-bitten veteran like Moreno. The sergeant had been voluble in his description of the feelings which existed between his superior and Colonel Saucedo. It clearly went beyond the traditional rivalry between a foot and a horse soldier.
From a personal observation of Badillo, Ole Devil concluded that he would be everything that was calculated to arouse the infantry colonel’s ire. Of Creole xli blood, born into a wealthy and privileged strata of society far higher than Saucedo’s humble origins, a product of the Mexican Army’s Military Academy at Chapultepec, the major would not rest easily nor quietly in a subordinate capacity. That was proved by his presence in Urrea’s office instead of his regiment’s commanding officer.
Undoubtedly Badillo would not be beyond aspiring to the presidency of Mexico. He would also be realistic and intelligent enough to have decided that his Creole birth and comparative youth might be against him in attaining his desires. There were many in the country who would not approve of a man of pure Spanish origin becoming Presidente, and others would expect to be governed by a person of more mature years.
The question Ole Devil asked himself was would the major be content to play a waiting game and steer an older, more acceptable candidate into the position that he had set his heart upon attaining. While the Texian thought that he might, he would be unlikely to accept the continued existence of a dangerous rival like Saucedo. Of course, the opportunity to remove the colonel might not have presented itself.
Despite appearances, Ole Devil did not ignore Major Alvarez. On the face of it the Paymaster did not seem like a seeker after high office. Standing to the right of Urrea’s chair, his whole attitude was that of a willing subordinate rather than one who hoped to improve his station. In fact, he put the young Texian in mind of something else. What it might be eluded Ole Devil for the moment.
There was one other possibility and the Texian did not overlook it.
From his first sight of Beatriz Alvarez, Ole Devil had felt that she was a woman of considerable personality and drive. Nor had later events caused him to revise his opinion. More than ever, she struck him as being ambitious, calculating and ruthless. However, she would know that no member of her sex could hope to become an accepted major factor in Mexico’s destiny. So she might be accepting second best by steering a man into the position which she craved. Her husband would not do, so she might have settled for the General.
Like many before him, Ole Devil could not help wondering how Beatriz had become involved with such a man as her husband. It could, he decided, have been the result of a marriage arranged by their parents where the Couple were not allowed any choice in the matter. Things of that kind happened, even in the United States, as Ole Devil had bitter reason to be aware. If he had guessed correctly, a woman of spirit would probably seek out some more promising material with which to achieve her desires.
‘Was it necessary for you to kill Captain Escalier?’ Alvarez inquired mildly, cutting into the Texian’s train of thought.
‘It was him or me,’ Ole Devil replied, looking at Badillo. ‘While I’ve no regrets, I apologize for having deprived your regiment of an officer, major.’
‘With his temper, it was only a matter of time before somebody did,’ Badillo answered. ‘And you more than made up for it by saving Senora Alvarez from the Yaquis.’
‘So you’re a Prussian officer, huh?’ Saucedo grunted, glaring in a hostile fashion.
‘I am,’ Ole Devil confirmed stiffly and shortly, with none of the politeness that he had employed while addressing the major.
‘From what I’ve heard,’ Saucedo growled, his antipathy towards the professional officer class being intensified by the ramrod straight figure before him, ‘I’d have expected to see dueling scars on your face.’
‘I’ve never met anybody good enough to put one on me,’ Ole Devil countered, and was conscious of Badillo watching him with less antagonism.
‘One thing puzzles the General,’ Alvarez remarked, nodding to Mannen. ‘My wife tells us that you are, or were, a sergeant major in the Prussian Army.’
‘I was,’ the burly Texian confirmed.
‘Yet you can’t be more than twenty-five years old,’ Alvarez went on. ‘You must have gained very rapid promotion.’
‘I di—’ Mannen began.
‘Don’t bother lying, amigo,’ Ole Devil advised and looked at Urrea in a way that seemed redolent of great admiration. ‘Santa Anna was taken in by my story about us having served in the Prussian Army, but I didn’t think we’d fool you, General.’
‘So you’re not what you pretend to be?’ Urrea asked, sounding a trifle puzzled but not entirely displeased by the slender Texian’s obvious respect for his shrewd judgment.
‘No, senor,’ Ole Devil admitted. ‘But I knew the real von Richthofen back home and believed he’d be more acceptable to Santa Anna than a couple of remittance men who’ve had to leave the United States—for their health.’
‘So you’re no more than fugitives from justice?’ Saucedo sneered.
‘Only because the three men we killed belonged to families with greater wealth and influence than our own,’ Ole Devil explained, directing the words to Urrea and ignoring the colonel.
Watching and listening to the by-play, Mannen was impressed with the further evidence of his cousin’s ability to take into consideration eventualities which might spoil a proposed line of action. Having envisaged that somebody might see through their deception, Ole Devil had arranged for a way to reply. If the hint of smug satisfaction on the General’s face was anything to go by, he was far from displeased to discover that his visitors regarded him as being far more perceptive and intelligent than Santa Anna.
‘Senora Alvarez tells me that you want to enlist in the Tamaulipa Brigade, Count—or whatever your name is,’ Urrea said, throwing a scowl which silenced the comment Saucedo had intended to make.
‘We do, senor,’ Ole Devil confirmed. ‘Our real names are Jack and Mylo Smithers.’
‘What makes you think that the General needs to enlist more men, particularly foreigners?’ Alvarez inquired.
‘Good quality fighting men, which I think the senora will assure you we are, are always useful for what the General has in mind,’ Ole Devil replied.
‘And what do I have in mind?’ Urrea challenged, after darting a glance at his Paymaster.
‘That you’d make a better Presidente than Santa Anna,’ Ole Devil answered.
‘And why would the General think that?’ Alvarez said mildly, when Urrea did not answer.
‘Except for your part in it, over which Santa Anna had no control, he bungled the whole campaign against the Texians,’ Ole Devil explained, directing his words to the General. ‘He wasted hundreds of lives and almost five weeks in taking the Alamo, then he celebrated a victory which had cost him more men than most defeats would have done. Even when he set out after Houston, having given him time to get well out of reach, he only started to hurry when following the wild goose chase of the Texian Government. The forced marches he made reduced his army to such a state of exhaustion that, when Houston trapped them against the San Jacinto River, they were easy meat. Against all that stupidity, you dealt with two forces, each superior in number to the defenders of the Alamo and received only a few casualties. A man of your tactical knowledge would never have made such blunders. In fact, you anticipated that Santa Anna was falling into a trap. That was why you turned back instead of joining him.’
While speaking, the young Texian wondered if he might be over-doing the praise. Urrea’s face showed that the derogatory comments about el Presidente and the appreciation for his own ability were far from unwelcome. However, the General scowled at the reference to his withdrawal.
‘Are you saying that we deserted our countrymen?’ Saucedo snarled, also having noticed Urrea’s change of attitude and hoping to capitalize on it.
‘The General had only the interests of Mexico and the welfare of the Tamaulipa Brigade in mind when he turned back,’ Ole Devil countered. ‘He knew that Santa Anna was endangering the rest of the Mexican Army and that, in the event of a defeat, it would go worse for your men than those who had served under other generals.’
‘Why should it?’ Urrea asked.
‘Santa Anna knew that the Texians might be willing to forgive him for what he had done at the Alamo, but they wouldn’t over Goliad,’ Ole Devil answered. ‘So, as you learned, he made a point of saying that you had acted without his authority there. That the killing at Goliad was on your orders. You knew that it would cost you the lives of every one of your men who fell into the Texians’ hands. So, when it became obvious that Santa Anna was playing Houston’s game, you wisely withdrew, not only protect your men, but to ensure that Mexico still had an army capable of defending its frontiers.’
As the explanation proceeded, it became obvious to Ole Devil that Urrea liked the theory which he was propounding. Either he had made a shrewd guess regarding the General’s motives in not joining the main body of the Mexican Army, or Urrea was not averse to being supplied with a plausible reason for turning back.
‘Do you know anything about the battle at San Jacinto?’ Badillo inquired.
‘I was too smart to let myself be trapped and wasn’t there, but I stayed close enough to see what happened,’ Ole Devil replied, and gave a brief, fairly accurate description of the fighting.
‘How could so few Texians win so easily?’ Saucedo protested.
‘What happened to the prisoners they took?’ Alvarez put in, before an answer could be made to the colonel’s query. ‘How many were executed?’
‘None,’ Ole Devil replied.
‘None?’ repeated three male voices, and all of the Mexican officers except the Paymaster looked a question at Beatriz.
‘Not one,’ Ole Devil insisted. ‘There was heavy slaughter during the fighting. At least six hundred died and about twice as many were taken captive. But Houston would not allow any of them, including Santa Anna when he fell into their hands, to be executed.’
‘I was told—!’ Beatriz began.
‘Whoever told you otherwise was either lying or mistaken, senora,’ Ole Devil interrupted politely but firmly.
‘How can you be so sure?’ Saucedo challenged.
‘I was in Houston’s camp, dressed as a Texian, for a day after the battle,’ Ole Devil replied. ‘It was easy enough to do so in the confusion.’
‘You went to a lot of risk and trouble—’ Saucedo growled.
‘Incomplete information’s no use and I always believe in coming prepared when I’m offering my services,’ Ole Devil replied. ‘I had an idea of the kind of things the General would want to know about, and I went where I could to get the answers. Like I said, it wasn’t too hard, or dangerous, once the fighting was over.’
‘That sounds reasonable to me,’ Badillo declared. ‘The Texians never had much idea of discipline.’
‘Then how did they beat our army?’ Saucedo challenged. ‘Exhausted or not, Santa Anna had them outnumbered.’
‘But they had better weapons,’ Ole Devil pointed out. ‘Their rifles matched against old muskets is what allowed less than two hundred of them to hold the Alamo Mission for thirteen days against the full strength of Santa Anna’s army. And so many of them using caplock rifles, which would fire in the damp air of a cold and misty morning when flintlocks failed, caused the defeat at San Jacinto.’
‘Did they have rifles such as you carry?’ Alvarez wanted to know.
‘Luckily for Santa Anna’s force, they didn’t,’ Ole Devil answered, offering his Browning to Urrea. Then he took out and placed a magazine on the desk, continuing, ‘If they had, many more Mexicans would have been killed.’
‘Senora Alvarez told us about these,’ the General stated, examining the rifle with considerable interest. ‘How many shots will it fire?’
‘I’ve only got five-shot slides,’ Ole Devil replied, indicating the one on the desk. ‘But they can be made to hold more.’
‘I’ve heard about such things,’ Saucedo sniffed, being determined to discredit the young gringo. ‘They’re complicated, fragile, and misfire more often than they shoot.’
‘Not this kind,’ Ole Devil contradicted. ‘It’s so easy that even an enlisted man could be taught to use one. Neither Cousin Mylo nor I’ve ever had a misfire.’
‘They certainly didn’t today,’ Beatriz supplemented.
‘Do you know where to get more of them?’ Urrea asked, showing greater animation than he had up to that point.
‘Yes, sir,’ Ole Devil confirmed. ‘Santa Anna was interested and I put him in touch with the maker who lives not far from New Orleans. He had a hundred and was making more.’
‘And if we give you the money, you’ll go to fetch them for us,’ Saucedo sneered.
‘Not me!’ Ole Devil stated emphatically. ‘I know what will happen to me if I’m caught in the United States.’
‘You say that Santa Anna was interested in them?’ Urrea asked.
‘He seemed to be very interested,’ Ole Devil confirmed. ‘An army, or even a regiment, armed with them would be a very potent force.’
‘Huh!’ Saucedo grunted. ‘They’d just encourage the enlisted men to waste powder and shot.’
‘From what I heard, that’s the argument the United States’ generals used for not adopting them,’ Ole Devil answered. ‘I can’t see why it should happen if the men are trained and disciplined correctly.’
‘I’d certainly like my regiment to be armed with them,’ Badillo declared. ‘If we can get enough of them, we’d be—’
‘There’s one thing puzzles me about this hombre,’ Saucedo interrupted. ‘If he’s been so close to Santa Anna, why haven’t we heard about him?’
‘There’s a good reason why you shouldn’t have,’ Ole Devil replied, seeing a hint of suspicion come to the General’s face. ‘He didn’t just have me working against the Texians.’
‘So you were spying on Santa Anna’s officers,’ Saucedo suggested, drawing the conclusion that Ole Devil had hoped he would.
‘Them and the other renegades,’ the young Texian conceded. ‘There weren’t many people el Presidente trusted .’
‘He seems to have trusted you,’ the colonel growled, with the air of making a damaging point.
‘No more than anybody else,’ Ole Devil answered. ‘But he paid me well and I gave him good value for his money. Only, as he isn’t able to pay me any more, I’m looking for a new employer.’
For all his calm exterior, the young Texian was feeling anything but relaxed. All too well he appreciated the deadly dangerous game he was playing. His every instinct warned him that the next few seconds could make all the difference between life and death for his companions and himself.