"In the Southern part of Texas, in the town of San Antone,
Stands a Fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown.
You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a one.
But sometime between the setting and the rising of the sun,
You can hear a ghostly bugle as the men go marching by
You can hear them as they answer to that roll call in the sky."
JUNE 10th, 1832
Paris, France
It has been four days since the June Rebellion ended. The Les Amis de l'ABC held firmly at their barricade on the Rue de Chanvierre. If the people had come to their aid, perhaps the Uprising could've lasted longer.
But the people did not stir. The battle barely lasted a day. And yet King Louie Phillipe was not going to take chances. He chose not to underestimate the influence of the rebel leaders. To have them publicly executed in front of the same people they fought could prove dangerous for the King; their deaths will bring them martyrdom.
So instead, he wrote his executive order and had it sent to the Court of Justice, where the rebel prisoners were held.
In the courtroom stood the remaining survivors of the barricade:
Enjolras, the leader; Combeferre, the Guide; Feuilly, the Worker; Courfeyrac, the Centre; Bossuet, the Unlucky One; Joly, the Hypochondriac; and Grantaire, the Cynic.
Their society is incomplete: Bahorel, the Brawn, was killed in the First Attack on the night of June 5th, when the National Guard breached the barricade. Jehan Prouvaire, the Poet, was taken prisoner and executed on the spot. Eponine Thenardier, the Gamin, took a bullet for Marius Pontmercy, who managed to escape the barricade during the Third Attack with the help of ex-convict Jean Valjean.
It wasn't until the death of Gavroche Thenardier, the Urchin, that the Army Commander had called for a ceasefire. Sure, he was gathering ammunition, but that was no excuse for the murder of a child.
When the National Guard cornered the remaining rebels, the Army Commander requested a truce in exchange for a fair trial.
The Seven remaining rebels were asked to stand in court as the Judge was about to deliver the sentence.
"Messrs. Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Joly, Bossuet de Maux, and Grantaire, you have all been found guilty of treason and disturbance of the peace. In the mercy of His Majesty, it has been decided that the seven of you have been sentenced into exile. The Court will allow you one week to set your affairs here under close supervision, before you are to be escorted to Calais, where a ship bound for America will be waiting for you." The Judge said before banging on his gavel.
The Seven rebels looked at each other briefly before they were escorted out of the courtroom.
!
Courfeyrac was folding his clothes before placing them into his luggage bag. Marius was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"How is everyone else taking this?" Marius asked.
Courfeyrac did not answer. He continued packing his clothes without even looking up at Marius.
"I'd imagine Enjolras is taking it pretty bad. His love for France...this would be devastating for him." Marius continued.
Again, Courfeyrac did not reply. Instead, he slammed his luggage shut.
"Have I offended you in anyway, Courfeyrac?" Marius asked after another minute of silence.
Courfeyrac huffed and turned abruptly to Marius. "You have a lot of nerve, to come over here as if everything is all ok." he said.
Marius shrugged his shoulders. "I never said anything about everything being okay. I've already apologized to everyone for not being there to share your sentence. I did not desert any of you. Cosette's Father got me out of the way."
Courfeyrac pointed a finger at Marius. "I do not give a damn about how you escaped. The least you could have done for us was to turn yourself in, or maybe have spoken out for us. No, you just stood idly by while the judge passed sentence."
"Courfeyrac, I cannot emphasize on how sorry I am for what happened." Marius began.
"Save it for your bride to be, Marius. Once we're out of France you two will get married and forget we ever existed...and after the effort I put in to help you too! I got you a room to rent."
Finally taking all he can, Marius stood up to face Courfeyrac.
"What do you want me to do, Courfeyrac? Try and petition the King to pardon all of you? Find some voodoo priest to bring back Prouvaire, Bahorel and the others? What do you want of me?"
Courfeyrac looked Marius dead in the eye and said "I want you to leave."
Marius couldn't believe the words coming out of his best friend's mouth. Had the Battle affected him somehow? Was there something He could've done to help things end differently? Whatever it was, there would be no turning back now. The Seven fugitives would be exiled out of France and become America's problem.
"If there is nothing for it then...Bonne chance, Courfeyrac." Marius said.
Courfeyrac resumed packing and said "Et toi."
!
Enjolras and Combeferre have finished their packing and walked out of their apartment.
Combeferre barely recognized his best friend ever since the sentencing. Instead of a face full of anger and determination, there was a hint of sadness and defeat.
As if he could sense Combeferre's concerns, Enjolras said out loud "We put in so much effort into a better France. We've lost comrades. And yet the people did nothing..."
Combeferre sighed and placed his hand on Enjolras's shoulder. "There are those that wish to observe the fight for independence from a safe distance. Who knows? Maybe in a few years, the people will rise again."
Enjolras shook his head. "It does not matter to me if they do. As far as I am concerned, France is dead to me."
Combeferre stopped in his tracks. "What did you just say?!"
"I said France is dead to me!" Enjolras said louder. Combeferre could've sworn there was a tear in his eye.
"You do not really mean that, mon ami." He said, adjusting his glasses.
"I wish I didn't. But France has turned her back on me. There is nothing left for me to do but to do the same to her."
"Ah Hah! Just what I was expecting to hear!" a harsh voice shouted behind them. The two to find Grantaire with his knapsack over his shoulder.
"Grantaire, now is not the time." Combeferre said, trying to keep the peace. Enjolras pushed past him.
"Listen to me, Grantaire, you can say whatever you want about France. I don't care anymore! But so, help me, if you so much as try to bring me and our comrades down all the same, I will insist that you leave the group permanently!"
Grantaire simply stared and said "Whatever you say, Apollo."
!
Joly and Bossuet were taking turns in embracing Musichetta, as they were all standing on the docks in Calais. This was hard for all of them equally.
"We promise, as soon as we make enough money, we'll send for you. And we can start our lives together in America." Joly said.
"It's said to be a whole new world over there. Maybe there will be better opportunities for us." Bossuet added.
Musichetta nodded amidst tears and said "Just make sure you stay safe this time."
Joly and Bossuet hugged her together one last time.
Courfeyrac had walked to the docks with Feuilly while Enjolras and Combeferre arrived with Grantaire in tow.
When they all met, the National Guardsmen escorted them onto the ship. Enjolras turned to a soldier and simply said "I wonder if it satisfies you and your men; the blood of a young girl and a little boy rest on your hands. I only hope for your sake; the King knows what he's doing."
And with that, the seven exiled revolutionaries boarded the ship that was to take them to the New World.
FEBRUARY 8th, 1836
GALVESTON, PROVENCE OF TEXAS
It has been roughly three and a half years since their move to America. Their ship had made port in New Orleans. Being amongst Frenchmen, it was not hard to find work there.
Bossuet and Joly had sent for Musichetta to come with them and join their group.
In the past few months, what was left of the Friends of the ABC have heard stories about new lands and new opportunities for a new Provence of Mexico called Texas.
Realizing they still had a whole new world to explore, it was decided amongst them that they should pack up and begin a new adventure.
So, they set arrived by boat in the Port of Galveston and purchased a covered wagon and four horses to begin their little escapade.
One week later, they had stopped their posse on a road overlooking a town ahead of them.
FEBRUARY 15th, 1836
SAN ANTONIO DE BEXAR, PROVENCE OF TEXAS
Combeferre pulled his horse to a stop and took out his telescope and held it to his eye. "It amazes me…" he began. "We've grown up our whole lives surrounded by streets, and buildings and bourgeoisie. Now, right up ahead of us, is a small little town surrounded by nothing but plains and sand, and meadows. It really puts things in perspective…"
"You mean like, how empty and vacant our future looks right now?" Grantaire joked from inside the wagon. Enjolras, who drove the wagon, looked behind and glared at him. "I only jest!" He held up his hands in defense.
Combeferre gave his telescope to Courfeyrac, who rode the second horse.
"Well ain't this a perdy little town!" He laughed.
Joly poked his head out from out of the wagon. "Oh, dear lord, you've started talking like them. Bossuet, are you sure it's not some kind of disease?!"
"I'm positive, Joly. Courfeyrac's just being Courfeyrac." Bossuet answered back.
"He's right." Feuilly added. "Remember when I first met you all, and I still had my Polish accent? And ever since then I began talking like the lot of you!"
Combeferre took his telescope back and examined the town more. "Well then maybe our Texian Tour Guide here can translate for us what… C-A-N-T-I-N-A, stands for?"
Musichetta poked her head out next to Joly while holding a little notebook. "Oh! I'm on it!" She said as she was flipping through the pages. "Cantina…a Spanish translation for bar, or wine shop."
"Well, sign me up!" Grantaire declared.
"No, Grantaire!" Enjolras bellowed. "At least not yet. We have to scout the area first, find out if they have an inn."
"This is the only town we could find within hundreds of miles. They're bound to have an inn." Bossuet commented.
Combeferre and Enjolras looked at each other. Their eye contacts held a silent council, and they both agreed that there was nothing else to do but to move forward.
Feuilly emerged from the wagon and sat next to Enjolras. "Hey, look over there!" he pointed.
The group turned their attention to what appeared to be an encampment of some kind.
"Hey Guide!" Feuilly called to Combeferre. "Can you see if you can make any sense of that over there?"
Combeferre slowed his horse down to a trot and he focused his telescope on Feuilly's discovery. "Well…" he began, studying the architecture of the wall. "I'm no religious expert, but I think that may be a Mission, or something. Musichetta, can you confirm my thoughts?"
Musichetta nodded and pulled out her map and notebook.
"Okay…it says here that that building outside of the main village…is called the Misión San Antonio de Valero. It was founded almost a hundred years ago, by the Spanish Catholics. It was a part of the Spanish Government's quest to bring Catholicism to the Native American tribes. So, if I'm not mistaken, this must be the town called San Antonio de Bexar." Musichetta said, pointing back to the town.
Combeferre tipped his hat and said jokingly. "Much obliged, ma'am."
!
It was midday by the time they had reached the town square.
Courfeyrac tipped his hat to several young women as they looked at the newcomers with wonder.
"What are those peculiar dresses they are wearing?" Feuilly asked.
Bossuet shrugged his shoulders. "When they say a 'whole new world', they don't fool around!"
Combeferre looked up ahead and saw someone approaching them. He was a man not as dark-skinned as Bossuet, but tan. Combeferre pulled out a little book from his jacket pocket and spoke very slowly.
"Hola...um…Soy Combeferre. And…uh… Somos…nuevos…en la ciudad… Uh, let me see…um… ¿Alguien…aquí habla…inglés?"
The man looked at Combeferre for a slow moment before smiling and said "Was that your first time, Senor?"
Combeferre hung his head. "That bad, huh?"
The friendly man shook his head. "No, you do quite well. You are all American?" he asked.
Combeferre quickly looked at Enjolras who turned his head the other way. Obviously, someone was going to ask for their backgrounds, so Combeferre motioned for the man to lean in to make the conversation personal.
"Uh, not quite, Monsieur. We are French…or rather we were. We were sentenced into exile for…well…it's a long story. But, no we are not American."
The man extended his hand. "Well you are welcome here in San Antonio nonetheless. I am Captain Juan Seguin, Magistrate of San Antonio…or former, I can never tell with these people!" He laughed. "Come, come! Let me show you guys to the inn, and we'll have a nice little talk."
Combeferre looked to Enjolras for approval, to which the latter shrug his shoulders. Combeferre and Courfeyrac steered their horses to the racks where they dismounted and tied the horses up before following Captain Seguin. Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta and Feuilly followed them while Enjolras and Grantaire rode ahead to find a place to park the wagon.
When the group entered the Cantina, Seguin motioned for everyone to take a seat before Combeferre pulled him to the side.
"Now I've only a minute before Enjolras…the man driving the wagon returns. The reason we were exiled from France, is we've been convicted for acts of treason to the Crown…we um…stirred up a little bit of trouble, so to speak."
His eyes caught sight of someone sitting in a corner of the room. He did not have a drink or a bottle nearby, but parchments and a quill. He was dressed in a light blue waist coat, and had a well-kept straw hat hanging on the chair opposite him. The man stopped writing but kept his head down.
"Treason, eh? Go on." Seguin beckoned.
"Well…we believed that the King was mistreating the People of France. And we, my friends and I, decided as a group, to stand up for what we believed was right…and long story short, we somewhat formed an Insurrection. But it didn't work out in our favor, and we were all exiled because of it."
"Well at least those of us that've made it alive." Enjolras said as he entered the Cantina, followed by Grantaire.
Combeferre rubbed his forehead as Enjolras continued.
"We lost a few good men, an innocent girl, and a little boy in the fight for a Republic. And yet the People did not stand with us. They abandoned us!"
"Peace, Enjolras!" Combeferre grabbed a hold of Enjolras's shoulder. "We're among friends now."
It was at this moment that the man in the blue waistcoat got up from his chair and approached the newcomers. Combeferre noticed that he had a red sash tied around his waist, a double sheathed belt with a saber in one, and a flintlock pistol in another.
"I've read something about such an uprising. Are you referring to the June Rebellion of 1832?" the man asked.
"Who wants to know?" Enjolras asked, with a hint of defeat in his voice.
"Lieutenant Colonel William Barret Travis, of the Army of Texas." The man said, offering his hand.
Sensing that Enjolras wouldn't take it, Combeferre took it instead. "Uh…pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel. My name's Combeferre, and this here is Enjolras…he's the leader of our little group. That over there is Courfeyrac. That's Joly and Bossuet, Musichetta, Feuilly and over there…Grantaire what are you doing?!"
Combeferre saw Grantaire at the bar, taking a tiny little glass and chugging it down his throat.
"I'm exploring the new world, my good man!" Grantaire slurred. He turned back to the bartender and said "Now explain to me again how this…ta-keel-a drink works its charms?!"
Combeferre rolled his eyes as he turned back to Travis. "Anyway, yes we were involved in that Rebellion."
Travis looked at all of them intrigued. "So…you and your friends are in favor of a Republic?"
"Of course, Lieutenant Colonel! We feel it's the best thing for the people."
"Senor Combeferre…would you object to joining me at my table for a moment?" Travis gestured to his table.
"Not at all!" Combeferre replied. "I'll be back." He said to his friends.
One of the serving girls came to the group's table and put down several mugs and a bottle. Seguin addressed them all. "This one's on the house."
"Merci, Captain!" Joly said.
Courfeyrac was too busy eyeing the outfit that the girl was wearing. "They certainly don't make them like they do back in France!"
Enjolras grabbed a stool next to Grantaire. "What are you drinking, R?"
Grantaire was flabbergasted. "What?! What is this?! Apollo has come down to Earth to grace the ugliness with his presence?!"
"Don't push your luck, 'Taire." Enjolras said, annoyed.
Grantaire looked at him confused. "Um…they say it's a shot of tequila."
Enjolras signaled the bartender. "What he's drinking."
When the bartender poured into Enjolras's shot glass, Enjolras said to Grantaire "Now I want to make myself extremely clear, 'Taire. We are on a new adventure, trying to start off on a clean slate. After this, I don't want to hear anything more about your obsession over me, your determination to bring us down, your cynicism in general. As painful as it may seem, I want you to start sobering up. Then maybe perhaps, if you behave, I will accept you as part of the group. Do we have an understanding?"
Grantaire just stared at him. "Why Apollo…just the chance to share a drink with you is all I've ever wanted!"
And with that, the two clinked their glasses and downed their shots.
"Wow…" Feuilly said. "I never thought I'd see the day, that Enjolras and Grantaire are having a drink together…let alone the fact that Enjolras is not shouting at him."
"Do you think perhaps he's still not over France?" Joly asked.
"I'm sure he just needs to find something to take his mind off his old country. Right Courfeyrac?" Bossuet asked.
Courfeyrac was distracted by talking with the serving girl.
Musichetta rolled her eyes. "You can take Courfeyrac out of France, but you can't take France out of Courfeyrac!"
Combeferre finally returned. His expression was lit with concern. "We'll wait until we're settled in, friends. Then we will talk."
!
"We stepped into the middle of a Revolution and we didn't even know it?!" Joly asked, as the group huddled in one of their rooms.
"Why were they so welcoming of us? For all they knew, we could've been the enemy…whoever that is!" Bossuet exclaimed.
"Alright, Combeferre, start from the beginning!" Enjolras said firmly.
Combeferre looked at his friend. Perhaps this event will bring back the Enjolras they all know.
"Well…to start off…when we first arrived in Texas, we were under the impression that we were still in American Territory. We're not."
"What?" Courfeyrac asked.
"We're in Mexican territory. This is known as the Provence of Texas." Combeferre continued.
"Would we get in trouble if we were here illegally?" Joly asked, becoming worried.
"Relax, Joly." Combeferre said. "Seguin and Travis would've turned us in or thrown us out by now."
"Anyway…" he continued. "When the Mexicans gained their independence from Spain, they formed a Federalist Government, cemented by the Constitution of 1824. This new government, granted any American who wished to, the right to land properties in Mexico, as long as they become Mexican citizens. So, a lot of Americans have been coming down here to Texas to do just that.
"However, a Mexican General by the name of Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, rose to power and became President-turned-Dictator. He revoked the Constitution and instilled a Centralist Government. In other words, we were lucky we weren't caught and prosecuted by Mexican authorities."
"But isn't Seguin Mexican?" Feuilly asked.
"Yes, but he's of a different mind than Santa Anna. Most of the people here in San Antonio feel the same way. They believe that Santa Anna is treating the people of Texas unfairly."
"Just like a certain country I know?" Enjolras snorted cynically.
"Actually…maybe worse." Combeferre said, causing everyone to look at him in confusion as he continued. "Some time ago, a Mister Stephen Austin had petitioned for Mexico to grant Texas Statehood. And he was arrested."
"What?!" Bossuet asked, outraged. "He got arrested just for a petition?!"
"Exactly how the people of Texas reacted. Anyway…they decided enough was enough, and they took action. For roughly a few months now, this Provence has seen a political clash between the Mexicans, and the Texian rebels."
"So why is Colonel Travis here?" Courfeyrac asked.
"You guys remember that Mission that Musichetta pointed out?" Combeferre asked. When they nodded, he explained "That mission…or the Alamo for short, is the Texian Army's makeshift fort. They placed cannons, barracks, ammunition inside the Alamo."
Enjolras stood up and walked in a circle with his hands behind his back. "Now what exactly did Travis want to talk to you about?" he asked.
Combeferre took a deep breath and took off his glasses to clean them. "Friends…Travis has asked us to enlist as volunteers and to help fight for the Republic of Texas."
Enjolras stopped his pacing and looked directly at Combeferre. "What?" he asked.
"The fact of the matter is…" Combeferre continued. "that Travis, and some commander named Jim Bowie, are short on men. And there's no reports confirming on when they'll get reinforcements. But until such time, Travis has told me to tell all of you in confidentiality, that there are suspicions that Santa Anna is leading his entire army, all the way through Texas. And right here in San Antonio is his first stop."
Grantaire stroked his chin. "Then why in hell don't we just turn tail out of this place and regroup with other Texian rebels?!"
Everyone stared at him in confusion. That was the soberest thing he has said the whole time they've known him.
Combeferre put his glasses back on. "Well…the reason they put in so much effort to fortify the Alamo, is because it is the only active fort within hundreds of miles, that stands in the way of this Santa Anna, and the rest of Texas."
Enjolras approached Combeferre. "And what about the people of Texas? Will they rise up and join us?"
"It may take longer than a few days for them to join us. But that's because Texas is three times the size of France. However, if inspired, I'm sure they will come."
Combeferre looked at the rest of the men and Musichetta. "But this Not a military command, friends. This is a plea for help. He's asking for volunteers, not soldiers. We are not soldiers, but we have had experience in this kind of fighting. That's why he's asking us. We have the option to say no and leave town. This isn't our fight. Where do we all stand with this?"
He then looked to Enjolras for an answer. Their leader took in a deep breath and said "Citizens…France may have turned their backs on us. But that does not mean that we should do the same to another world that needs our help. Texas and France are no different. They fight for rights against oppression. They clamor for a Republic. And that is exactly what our motivation is. If this Travis and this Bowie want us to help them fight, then I say, let us join in their crusade! Who will be strong and stand with me?!"
The rest of the men cheered. They had their Enjolras back!
Courfeyrac stood up and whispered in Combeferre's ear. "What in the hell was in that tequila?!"
FEBRUARY 16th, 1836
THE ALAMO
½ MILE FROM SAN ANTONIO DE BEXAR
Colonel Travis led Enjolras and Combeferre by horse from the town the next morning, to the old adobe mission that was referred to as The Alamo.
When they first approached the mission, they came across what Travis identified as the West Wall. It was a simple wall with several dents and loose bricks visible, extending a length of roughly 500ft.
Travis rounded the corner to the right and Combeferre and Enjolras followed suit. When they approached the South Wall, they came upon a lunette shaped fence.
"This is called a Sally Port." Travis said. "We have two six-pounder cannons positioned here, to guard our South flank."
The three of them dismounted their horses and walked up the ramp of the Sally Port. Travis made a salute to the sentry who called for the Main Gate to be opened.
When Enjolras and Combeferre entered in, their eyes widened with wonder.
It was like four walls of buildings surrounding an empty stretch of dirt and sand. In the middle of the plaza stood a ramp with two cannons pointed directly at them.
"Don't worry, they're not loaded!" A voice called behind them. They turned around to see a man in his mid-thirties approaching them.
"Ah! Enjolras, Combeferre, this is Captain Almeron Dickinson. He's our chief artillery officer here in the garrison. He served as a defender in the Battle of Gonzalez, and as a General's aide during the Siege of Bexar."
"Siege? Was there a siege here recently?" Enjolras asked.
"Certainly. Before we swept in, this old tumbled down mission used to be controlled by the Mexicans and General Cos. But, after overwhelming the poor bastards, they surrendered and we kicked them out of this town."
"But then…" Combeferre began. "If we already kicked them out, why would we still need to fortify this mission?"
"Because if there's one thing I know about Santa Anna…" a low husky voice called out to their left. "…it's that he does not let things go easily."
Travis cleared his throat and said "Colonel Bowie. I'd like to present to you Mister Enjolras, and Mister Combeferre. I managed to persuade them and a few others to volunteer their services and join our ranks."
He then turned to the two Frenchmen. "This is Colonel James Bowie. He and I are Co-Commanders of the garrison here. I lead the regulars, and he leads the militia. So, you and your men will report to him."
Enjolras and Combeferre took turns in shaking Bowie and Dickinson's hands.
"You boys have any fighting experience?" Bowie asked, coughing a couple of times to clear his throat.
"Yes, sir. We fought in a couple of Insurrections in Paris. 1830 and 1832 to be exact." Enjolras answered.
"Good. Seeing as how you're still alive, I take it you're good with rifles." Bowie asked.
"Yes sir." Enjolras said.
"And…uh…how many men did you boys bring?"
"Well, myself, and Combeferre, we have five other men from our group."
Dickinson's smile faltered. "Oh…that's all? We were kind of hoping you'd have maybe twenty or…a hundred."
"Are things here that bad?" Combeferre asked.
"Ever since we chased Cos out of here, a lot of the volunteers didn't see a need to stay around here anymore." Dickinson answered.
"Which reminds me…" Travis said softly before looking around. "Major Bonham?!" He called out.
A young man no older than 29 came hustling to the group. "Sir?"
"Bonham, is your horse prepared?" Travis asked.
"Yes, sir. Let me just fetch him from the courtyard." James Bonham saluted before running to the courtyard in behind the group.
"Oh, over here, if you'll follow us…" Travis had Combeferre and Enjolras follow him. "Here we have the Chapel." He said.
"Whoa…" Enjolras and Combeferre said in unison.
The Chapel of the Misión San Antonio de Valero looked like it belonged to the ruins of Ancient Greece. There was no roof; the Catholics never completed it. The bricks look yellow and beige and sunken with age. The four sculptures stacked on top of each other and flanking the large wooden door looked endearing, and peaceful.
To the right of the chapel, was a wall of large logs standing up to form a large fence.
"Right over here…" Travis continued. "is the Palisade. Before the fence was put in, there was nothing between the South wall and the chapel. This is…unfortunately the best we could do on short notice."
An older man, probably in his mid-40s heard Travis talking and walked towards the group. He was wearing a hunting outfit and a coonskin cap.
"We got some new folks to come and give 'em hell?" The man asked.
"You bet, Davy." Bowie said. "Misters Enjolras and Combeferre, this here is the legend of the frontier himself, the great bear killer Congressman David Crockett of Tennessee!"
"Bear Killer?!" Combeferre asked, shocked. "You mean you actually killed a bear?!"
Davy Crockett shrugged his shoulders. "I might've in my time. Now don't ask me if it was before or during my time in Washington. Could never tell in between them elections!"
"How is the palisade coming along, Colonel Crockett?" Travis asked.
"Well…give it another hour or so, and it'll be finer than a white-picket fence at your Aunt Susie's house on the Bayou!" Crockett answered.
A minute later, James Bonham exited the courtyard on his horse and pulled up to Travis whom the latter handed him an envelope.
"Take this to Colonel Fannin. He should be stationed at Fort Defiance in Goliad. God speed!" Travis ordered.
Bonham saluted, and kicked his horse as he galloped his way out of the mission.
"So, Enjolras…" Travis turned to the two of them. "Why don't you bring the rest of the men over here, and we'll give them a quick little tour of the place, and show them where they'll be stationed?"
Enjolras nodded and said "Sounds like a plan."
And so, the rest of the Friends of the ABC had visited the Alamo and were immediately taken in with Travis, Bowie, Dickinson and Crockett.
"These seem like honorable kind of people." Joly said. "I'll be quite curious as to see what their opposition will be like."