My Writing

05 February, 2020

Bonny Blue Flag 19.3

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[continuing chapter 19]

You’re a Virginian, Patton reminded himself. You may be at fault here, but you’re still a Virginian. You can’t let them think you’re licked.

They had taken him from his litter and sat him in a chair on the porch of a farm or plantation house. His head ached almost unbearably, the injury and the damp, stifling heat of the day making him feel sick to his stomach. Under the circumstances it seemed ridiculous to be contemplating how to put on an appearance of competence and pride without seeming cocky or arrogant. Ridiculous, save that the reputations of Virginia and the entire Confederacy might be riding on the way these Texans responded to him.

“I apologize for my appearance, sir,” he said to the man who’d just introduced himself as William Barret Travis, the Texan secretary of state. “In both senses of the word.”



“Meaning both the way you look and your appearance in our country,” said a man with a thick Scots accent. “This one’s clever, Travis.”

“Some of us might be inclined to dispute that assessment,” said Stewart from behind him. Patton tried to smile, but it ended in a grimace as another wave of pain and nausea coursed through him.

“I find myself inclined to agree with Captain Stewart, Russell,” Travis said with a tight smile. “He’s put himself on the losing side, hasn’t he?”

“I plead mitigating circumstances, sir,” Patton said. Inwardly, he was pleased at recognizing Travis as the man he’d seen from a distance yesterday and identified as the Texan leader. He’d been right in his estimation of that, at least. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I was tricked into participating in this invasion. I thought I was obeying my superiors.” That’s not the whole truth, he reminded himself. “Plus,” he added, “I was an idiot. I wanted to see a battle, and this seemed the fastest way to it.

“And, to be honest,” he added, “I seem to have been blessed with a surplus of pride. I wanted to believe that I was doing the right thing, and with my government’s approval.”

“I think you should talk to him—and with Captain Stewart—about that, Mister Travis,” Cleburne said. “From what I’ve heard of it, the story of how they both came to be here is a fascinating one.”

“I do indeed look forward to hearing that story,” Travis said. “In its proper place and time, that is. For now, I believe that we should see to the proper disposition of the prisoners.” He turned to speak to an aide, and for a moment Patton could hear only the shouts and laughter of the Texas militiamen in the yard beyond him, as they jeered at the shuffling prisoners. “I will feel better when I have met with the president and the full cabinet,” Travis said when he turned back to face Patton, Cleburne and Stewart. “We were forced to march to Millican Creek before I could be confident that all of the conspirators had been… dealt with.”

Travis examined Stewart carefully. “See that this man receives some medical attention,” the Texan said to a sour-faced but well-dressed woman. “When I do speak with him again, I want him to be capable of answering any question I might ask.”

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
Chapter Thirteen    Chapter Fourteen    Chapter Fifteen    Chapter Sixteen    Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen    Chapter Nineteen

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