A Time to Stand by Walter Lord Read Free Book Online Page B

delighted—legend says he gaily put an extra bullet in the hole made by his first shot, to insure himself a second bull’s-eye. Then to the banquet table, and past disappointments must have seemed far away indeed as the fife and drum burst into “Hail, the Conquering Hero Comes.”
    On through the thickets to the Red River country. At Fulton he accumulated still more followers. At Clarksville, Mrs. Isabelle Clark, a magnificent pioneer woman, galloped after the party, shouting a timely warning of hostile Indians. At Lost Prairie, Crockett found himself running out of money, worked out a swap with Isaac Jones. In exchange for Jones’ silver watch and thirty dollars, Crockett handed over the magnificent gold watch given him by the Whigs in Philadelphia—to hell with that too.
    Now south, across the Sabine, and Texas at last. The good news had gone ahead, and when Crockett reached Nacogdoches on January 5, the town’s cannon banged out a salute. More cheers, more limelight. Another banquet, another chance to describe how he told them back home to go to hell. Another standing ovation.
    Crockett was walking on air. Only a few months ago he felt crushed by political defeat; now “I had rather be in my present situation than to be elected to a seat in Congress for life.” Last autumn he never expected to run again for anything; now “I have but little doubt of being elected a memberto form a constitution for this province.” In November, he wasn’t remotely interested in Texas revolutions; now he was about to enroll as a volunteer and plunge into the fighting.
    Liberty? He outdid them all. When Judge John Forbes administered the oath of allegiance, Crockett dramatically stopped the proceedings. He noticed that he was required to uphold “any future government” that might be established. That could mean a dictatorship. He refused to sign until the wording was changed to “any future republican government.” The judge obligingly inserted the change and the ceremony continued.
    The volunteers drifting around Nacogdoches were enchanted. The idealist Daniel Cloud and his lawyer friends yearned to join this magnetic man. John Purdy Reynolds, the crusading Pennsylvania doctor, and his old friend William McDowell couldn’t wait either. Crockett told them to come along—there was always room for a good companion. The “Tennessee Company of Mounted Volunteers” was born and immediately prepared to head for San Antonio.
    But first, a brief diversion. A quick trip to St. Augustine for another big welcome. More saluting cannon … a gala ball … then back to Nacogdoches for the long ride to the army. Just before leaving St. Augustine, Crockett found time for one of his rare letters to his children. It was a happy letter, bursting with enthusiasm and closed with the assuring words: “Do not be uneasy about me. I am among friends.”
    By now these “friends” also included James M. Rose and Micajah Autry, still relishing his new virile life. But there were times when even the most exuberant felt a twinge of sadness, a faint longing for things left behind. Standing guard under the January moon one crystal night, Autry’s mind drifted to home and Martha. “With what pleasure did I contemplate that lovely orb,” he wistfully wrote her, “chiefly because I recollected how often you and I had taken pleasurein standing in the door and contemplating her together. Indeed I imagined that you might be looking at her at the same time… .”
    Every man knew these moments of loneliness—and other hardships as well. The banquets and toasts were always remembered longest, but in between were days of toil and drudgery … slogging hundreds of miles through rain, mud and racing streams.
    There was sickness too—especially smallpox. It was all very well for Micajah Autry to say he feared the tavern bill more, but he was traveling with Crockett. Hundreds of others weren’t so lucky: lower tavern bills, but miserable days of chill and