My Writing

06 December, 2019

Bonny Blue Flag 12.10

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[Concluding chapter 12]


“The militia?” McCulloch couldn’t restrain a laugh at the memory of the militia musters he’d seen when he first came to Texas—to say nothing of what had happened to the men led by Polk last week. In theory, every able-bodied man in the country was a member of the militia, liable for military service should the country be invaded—or in a state of rebellion. In fact, though, militia musters usually ended up in drunken brawls. And despite what other parts of the continent apparently thought of the Republic of Texas, not every man in this country had a rifle or musket, much less one in working order. As money had become ever tighter, the frequency and quality of the militia musters had declined to fewer than one haphazard event a year. “When was the last time, Mister Travis, that the government could afford a complete mustering of the militia in just this county, much less across the whole republic?”



“You wouldn’t need a complete muster,” Cleburne said, getting to his feet beside Russell. “You just need a couple dozen men with guns and the right attitude. Get those men to follow you into town, and I guarantee you’ll have a mob behind you by the time you reach the White House or whatever it is you call your president’s home here.”

McCulloch opened his mouth to object, but found nothing in Cleburne or Russell’s words to complain about. It would be like assembling a posse; there would be no guarantee of fighting quality, but if they could get momentum on their side—they already had the moral high ground so far as he was concerned—then fighting quality might not matter as much as the number of men they could raise. And if that pompous windbag Bishop Polk could assemble three dozen men in a day or two, then he and Travis would have no trouble ordering up that many men before the sun rose tomorrow.

He stood up, carefully brushing the dust from his trousers. “They’re right, Mister Travis,” he said. “It’s your only real chance. If what Patton here says is true, Walker and his filibuster are going to be at Washington by the day after tomorrow, maybe even earlier. You’ve got tonight to win back the city and put together a militia to oppose the invasion, or the Republic of Texas goes down. Simple as that.”

“I’m relieved, Marshal McCulloch,” Travis said. “For a while there, I thought the task facing us was going to be difficult. But saving the republic overnight, with just the five of us to start with? I’m glad to hear it’s a simple task.” He laughed, and because there was nothing else to do about it, McCulloch laughed as well.

“We’d best be starting, then,” Russell said. He walked to his horse, and mounted. “Should we split up, or would it be safer to keep in a mob?”

“Risk everything,” McCulloch said. “I’m going to ride east; we’re not far from the Waller County line, and I’ll see what I can raise from their militia.”

“If I remember correctly,” Russell said, “Al Miller has a farm a bit north of here, a few miles from the city. He’s captain of the Washington County company, so his place would be a fine base from which to assault the traitors. Why don’t we agree to meet there as close to midnight as possible with all of the men we’ve been able to raise by then?”

“Tell your boys not to get there too soon,” McCulloch said. “Not before dark, anyway. We don’t want to tip our hand, just in case Reynolds has somebody watching for us.”

Travis got to his feet, and shook McCulloch’s hand. “Thank you, Marshal. Thank you all,” he said to the others, “for coming to my aid like this. Rest assured I will remember you.”

“That’s not important now, sir,” McCulloch said. “Moving quickly’s what matters now.”

“You’re right, Marshal. Russell, you’d best take Patton. I suspect he doesn’t know this area as well as you.”

“I don’t know it at all,” Cleburne said.

“You’ll come with me,” Travis said. “How’s your arm?”

“Sore as the devil,” Cleburne said with a smile. “I’m not completely certain I can still fire a gun. I’m surely prepared to try, though, if it comes to that.”

McCulloch watched the Irishman’s smile harden, and was impressed at the determination the man showed. His wound might be festering for all anyone knew, but he seemed disinclined to let that stop him. “It’ll probably come to that,” he said.


Next    Chapter One    Chapter Two    Chapter Three    Chapter Four    Chapter Five    Chapter Six
Chapter Seven    Chapter Eight    Chapter Nine    Chapter Ten    Chapter Eleven    Chapter Twelve

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