| abstract | - The Anaconda Plan appears to have originated with a certain Major Alexander S. "Joe" Cronin, who was adjutant and towel-boy to the Commander of the Army of the Potomac, General Winfield “Old Brains and Bones” Scott. General Scott, by the way, received his nickname not for his obviously declining intelligence, nor his tin-eared piano playing ability - which were both minimal on a good day - but from his habit of eating the fried brains and chewing the sinew from the bones of elderly veterans of the War of 1812. The Anaconda Plan emerged when Cronin, still officially a member of the Irish Brigade, attended an extended weekend of drinking with his comrades. One of them told the tale of St. Peter's Basilica, an ancient but spry reptilian monster rumored to be kept by the Vatican to eat both the Pope’s enemies and the dead Pope's remains. When Cronin sobered up, as he usually did on rare occasions, and then accidently boozed up again, he told General Scott that he'd “heard from a friend, who heard itfrom a friend, who heard it from thisotterguy see?” that St. Peter's Basilica might be persuaded to eat Rebel generals. This would eliminate the North's problem once and for all. General Scott, drunk on life itself, loved the plan. He climbed into a carriage and brought the idea to President Lincoln. Honest Abe, wiser by far, realized that the Basilica was not likely to be for hire - especially not to a strange-bearded Presbyterian President. Lincoln, however, inquired if a dinosaur could be found to accomplish the task. Renowned biologist Joseph Bayless, wiser by far, gently advised the delusional President that dinosaurs were extinct or had become birds, but that he happened to be aware of the existence of a giant Anaconda in Peru. Lincoln clapped his large elongated hands in glee, and shook his beard up and down to signify presidential happiness, then began telling a homespun yarn about six negroes and a candle.
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