On this anniversary of the fall of the Alamo, I've taken the Frenchman's script and corrected it. I think I caught most of the errors, but there's always room for improvement.
UNCUT VERSION AS ORIGINALLY PRESENTED IN THEATERS
[Overture - orchestral introduction to the main themes in summary form: Ballad of the Alamo, Green Leaves of Summer, Tennessee Babe, Here's to the Ladies, Ballad coda.]
Main title: Over credits and paintings, Mexican trumpet plays Degüello, Tiomkin's arrangement of the Spanish call signifying "no quarter." Then accordion plays the Green Leaves of Summer.
In the year of our Lord, 1836, Texas, which has known many flags, was then under the colors of Mexico. Though its inhabitants were made up of settlers from far countries and all parts of the United States, they were Mexican citizens all.
Generalissimo Santa Anna was sweeping north across Mexico toward them, crushing all who opposed his tyrannical rule. They now faced the decision that all men in all times must face... the eternal choice of men...to endure oppression or to resist.
[Music: Ballad of the Alamo theme is introduced.]
(Texians headquarters in San Antonio de Bexar)
Travis: General Houston's arrived, gentlemen.
Dr Sutherland: Refreshments?
Travis: Thank you, Doc.
Sgt Lightfoot: Seventy-one cold, windy, rump-bumpin' miles, since yesterday!
Doctor: You wouldn't have it any other way, Lightfoot.
Outside - Houston's arrival.
Company, Halt!... Company, stand to!
[Music: Ballad of the Alamo is played rhythmically, by trumpet (Mexico) and accordion (Texas) alternately.]
Sam Houston: That is well. Don Esparza!
Don Esparza: General...
Col. Neill: Due pardon, General Houston, may I order the men to bivouac? These last two forced marches rather took it out on them.
Houston: Foot soldiers may. Feed the others. Care for their horses. And tell them they'll be another forced march within the hour.
Neill: Yes, Sir. Sergeant... (Yes sir!) Come with me!
Dr Sutherland: Sam...
Almeron Dickinson: General, sir.
Lightfoot: General, it ain't none of my business, but you've ain't ate since yesterday. I'll sit it on the table here.
Houston: Where's Jim Bowie?
Lightfoot: When certain people ain't ate, they're meaner 'n a bobcat.
Houston: Mr. Dickinson, I asked you a question. Where's Jim Bowie?
Lt. Bonham: He's indisposed, sir.
Houston: Indisposed? By God, if you mean drunk, you say drunk, sir.
Bonham: He's drunk, sir.
Houston: What's your name?
Bonham: James Butler Bonham, in Travis's command, sir.
Houston, eating: Hm... Neill, you go north with me. Colonel Travis will be in command here.
Travis: Major, Sir.
Houston: Colonel Travis. I'll send the commission through.
Travis: Thank you, General. Let me assure you that I'll do everything in my...
Houston: We can dispense with the amenities, Colonel. Now! I've been given command of the armies of Texas. But the fly in the buttermilk is there ain't no armies in Texas. 'Few good
friends; some willing men... I'm gonna' have to knock some of those men into an army - and to do that, I need time. You people, you people right here on the Rio Grand, are going to have to buy me that time. You're gonna have to keep Santa Anna off the back of my neck until I can get in shape to fight him.
Travis: General, I assume you're ordering me to...
Houston: Dammit! I'm ordering you to command. How and what you do is your problem.
Neill: But Sam, what about Jim Bowie?
Houston: Jim Bowie, as Mr. Bonham has informed us, is indisposed!
Neil: Yes, sir. But I'd like to point out, sir, that Jim Bowie is leading a hundred volunteers, whereas young Travis here commands less than thirty regulars.
Travis: Twenty-seven. General Houston, I think we ought to discuss this matter...
Houston: Clear the room! Gentlemen, I would have a word with Mr. Travis, if you'll excuse us. (To the Tejanos: Con permiso... Mr. Travis, were you going to complain to me about Jim Bowie?
Travis: Not complain, Sir.
Houston: Of course, Jim Bowie's drunk. He took this town from General Cós, he fought a battle, and now he's drunk. Seems kinda natural to me. Or perhaps you question something other than Bowie's drinking? You gonna tell me that he's got a lot of acreage around here? He's married into the Mexican aristocracy?
Travis: Yes, Sir.
Houston: Mr. Travis, I would trust Jim Bowie with my life. More than that, I would trust him with the lives of my family. And more than that, I would trust him with the life of Texas.
Houston: That's all, Travis.
[Music: Ballad coda.]
Travis: Yes, sir.
Houston: Travis, I've never been able to like you. But you are another one of the very few men I would trust with the life of Texas.
Travis: For that, thank you, Sir.
Houston: And it may very well be... that that life rests in your hands now.
[Music: The eyes of Texas are upon you.]
Houston: Jethro! Is that you?
Jethro: Yes, Sir, General, this is me.
Houston: How does it happen you're still alive? You had white hair when I was a little boy, and now we look like we're about the same age.
Jethro: Yes, Sir. But I've been a temperate and God fearing man all my life, Sir.
Houston: Well, I guess my past is out! Now Jethro, you tell your Mister Jim I'm sorry to hear about his illness, I wish him a speedy recovery, and assure him of my undying affection.
Jethro: Yes, Sir. And General Sam, Sir, he love' you too, and them words of yours gon' put him right back on his feet. He got a colic, you know.
Houston: I heard.
Jethro: Oh, in the stomach.
Houston: Stay temperate, old man! Neill!
Neill: Column right! Forward! Yo!
[Music: Ballad of the Alamo]
Travis' man: Take care, men!
(Jim Bowie's room. He's sleeping , a jug near his hand.)
Jethro, as Bowie painfully wakes up: You all right, Mister Jim?
Bowie: Yeah... Sit down, Jeth.
Jethro: Can I get you something, sir?
Bowie: Oh, no, no. You just sit there... (At the door) Houston's gone?
Jethro: Yes, sir.
Bowie: Come and gone, and me laying drunk!
Jethro: Well, your stomach, Mr. Jim. That ain't good, what not. Every man is sick out of something...
Bowie: I've never been sick a day in my life, Jeth, and you know it.
Jethro: More kind of sickness than bellyache; heartache, too. I'm kind of glad I'm so awful' old, Mr. Jim. You know that?
Bowie: What's that?
Jethro: Well, because it seems like there's things, I'll be glad to be gone from. Things a man's got to face these days. Your family so far away, not being able to see'em and be with them. This fair land all torn by war... I tell you, it's just more than an old man can take.
Bowie: You're right, Jeth. (Empties jug on the floor)
Jethro: Well, Jim Bowie, what in the world are you doing?
Bowie: No help for me to be drunk.
Jethro: Don't torture yourself no more, Mister Jim, please!
Travis: Colonel Bowie!
Dickinson: Hey, Jim.
Travis: The General was most concerned about your absence - your illness.
Bowie: I'm sorry about that, Major.
Travis: Colonel. The General was kind enough to endorse my rank.
Bowie: I see...
Travis: And I suppose you're aware he did me the honor of putting me in the command.
Bowie: Now that you tell me, I'm aware.
Travis: We will assemble at the ruined mission tomorrow morning. You will bring your men there.
Bowie: I won't deny this ain't hard for me to say: yes, sir.
Bowie's man: Hi, Jim. What do we do now?
Bowie: You'll get the word.
Travis: Lieutenant Bonham!
Bonham: Yes, sir.
Travis: Carry out your orders.
Bonham: Yes sir, Colonel.
Travis: Good luck, Jim.
(Ramparts of the Alamo)
Dickinson: Colonel Travis! Bowie's approaching.
Travis, from the roof of the chapel: Carry on, sentry. (To Dickinson) Recall work parties. Prepare for flag ceremony!
Dickinson: Detail! Forward, march! (Drumming around the flagpole mound) Present... arms! (Bugle) Order... arms! (Flag of 1824 federalist constitution is lifted.)
Travis: We stand here ready to do our duty and cognizant of the will of God. Captain Dickinson! Dismiss the ceremony. Oh, and Captain, you will inform the men that work details will be dismissed at four thirty in order that family men may gather their dependants within these walls.
Dickinson: Yes, sir! Lieutenant Blake!
Blake: Yes, sir.
Dickenson: You will see to the quartering of Bowie's volunteers.
Blake: Yes, sir! You men will follow me!
Jethro: Yes, sir.
Bowie: Blake will show you to our quarters, set'em up.
Jethro: Yes, sir.
(In the chapel. Bowie looks at the fallen roof.)
Travis, coming down the ladder: Colonel Bowie...
Bowie: Santa Anna's got an army of seven thousand men.
Bowie: Well, you ain't gonna try to defend this broken down church against seven-thousand battle-hard troops?
Travis: Colonel Bowie, you were drunk at the last officers' call. And I would rather postpone our discussion unto the next. At which time, I will explain my plans and give orders for the implementing of those plans.
[Music: The Eyes of Texas.]
(In the yard. Men are building a palisade between chapel & south wall. )
Bowie's man: Hey Jim! Why do we have to work like this? I volunteered to fight, not to build no fort. How come we have to work like this?
Bowie: 'Cause old Sam told Travis, Travis told me, and I'm tellin' you.
Sentry: Somebody's comin' hell-bent for leather, sinking spurs at every jump!... Halt! Right there! Corporal of the guard, post number one!
Dickinson: No civilians may enter the fort, señor Seguin. I'm sorry.
Bowie: Juan, Silverio!
Bowie: Let'em through, Dick!
Travis (from the gallery outside his quarters): Captain Dickinson!
Dickinson: Yes, sir.
Travis: Come to my office, please, captain.
Dickinson: Yes, sir.
Seguin (to Bowie): Tengo noticias de Santa Anna. Good afternoon, Colonel Travis. We have news of Santa Anna. My son and I have...
Travis: Good day, señor Seguin. Señor, surely you should realize that even though you're the alcalde of San Antonio de Bexar, it does not exempt you from military prohibitions. This establishment is closed to all civilians.
Seguin: I'm very sorry, Colonel Travis. Had I known your restrictions applied to me and my family, sir, I would not have....
Bowie: Now wait a minute, Travis, the Seguins have got news of Santa Anna.
Travis: I can't doubt. We have a dozen rumors a day.
Bowie: Well, you can't just... Por favor, Juan, tell him.
Seguin: Colonel, the Indians of San Blas have sent couriers to the vaqueros of my properties along the Sangre de Cristo. They say a large number of soldiers crossed the Baja Diablo two days ago.
Bowie: That puts'em a lot closer than you thought. Go ahead, Juan.
Seguin: The Indian guessed the number of troops at over five-thousand. There are also large numbers of mounted soldiers and supply trains. Also, lower down on the Baja Diablo, another party of Indians saw signs of large number of shod horses crossing on a ford...
Travis: I'm sorry, señor Seguin - but as a civilian, you cannot realize how worthless this sort of information is. Some Indians told some vaqueros!... But anyway, thank you, sir, and good day.
Bowie: Travis, you know the Seguins are absolutely reliable!
Seguin: 'You'll excuse me...
Travis: I meant no personal offence, señor Seguin; but I cannot make a plan of action based on third-hand rumors.
Seguin: I do not take personal affront, Colonel Travis. Else I should be forced to act other than to simply bid you good day!
Bowie: Adiós, Juan.
Bowie (approaching on his horse): You're a damn fool, Travis.
(Travis' office. Music: Degüello)
Travis: (pouring himself a drink) A true gentleman, Seguin. I dislike being rude to him.
Dickinson: Even allowing for a charros' exaggerations, Santa Anna must've crossed the Baja in strength.
Travis: But I had to do it, Dick.
Dickinson: I'd say we have two, or... at best, three days before we see his banners.
Travis: The men were listening, and I can't let that rabble know how weak we are and how strong the enemy is.
Dickinson: You couldn't do that, eh?
Travis: No, I couldn't, my honest and truthful and plain-spoken friend. You could, perhaps, but I couldn't. Now, take a look at this. This oblique rampart here... Well, have sense, Dick! Why should those men stay if they knew all the truth of our situation? It's different for Bowie, of course. He's got a big stake in Texas. A couple of million acres I hear. But some of those men down there, well, they haven't got...
Dickinson: You got any dollars or acres?
Travis: I've got an extra suit of clothes, you know that. But it's different with me.
Travis: Because I'm different from that rabble down below. Or, if you want it in more concise English, I am better than that rabble.
Dickinson, eyes on the map: I suppose we don't extend this line to...
Travis: I know you think my attitude incongruous with the views of your idol, Mr. Thomas Jefferson, the Messiah of equality. You think it snobbish of me to feel that I am better than that rabble.
Dickinson: Oh, Will, let it go!
Travis: Tell me this: suppose we accept the first half of your Jefferson's theory of equality, and grant that all men draw their first breath as equals. Now, let us project that life to the grave, which awaits us all. Do you deny that most men live lives of craven compromise, of snatching every shabby opportunity to feather their nest, to be quick to raise the call for safety and for security, while 'let the other men volunteer, let the other men carry the rifle, let the other men face the hard call of honor? Why, even your Mr. Jefferson, writing in his ivory tower in Monticello, had to admit that most men are like that, and only a few - unhappily a very few - go to their graves with their honor untarnished, never having grabbed for the wealth that comes from opportunism or the popularity that comes with catering to those smelly masses. And can you, or any sane person, or your sainted Thomas Jefferson claim that such men are no more than the equal of those... those creatures down below? And so I say, without any conceit or snobbishness, that I am better than that rabble down there.
Dickinson: You know, Will... I sometimes wonder how our friendship endures these quarrels.
Travis: Because we are alike, Dick. No matter how much you give lip service to the cause of the common man.
Susannah Dickinson: I brought you some coffee. I can hear you squabbling clear down the kitchen.
(A hill over the town. Music: Ballad coda.)
Smitty: Boy! So that's it... San Antonio de Bexar. Means "Saint Anthony" in English. Colonel speaks Spanish, you know. You gonna pray, Sir? But why, Sir? I mean, there wasn't no doubt we'd find her. The Colonel just wasn't sure which one of these here creeks was the shortest cut. He ain't been here in nigh fifteen years.
Parson: Better make the signal, boy.
Smitty: Yes, Sir. Hope this powder ain't damp... You don't take it wrong I ask you all these questions, Parson?
Parson: No boy, that's how you learn. Asking.
Smitty: Yes, Sir. But so many times every day you stop and give thanks... Mostly I can't catch on what you're thanking our Lord for - I mean, there's nothin' special.
Parson: I give thanks for the time and the place.
Smitty: The time and place, Parson?
Parson: The time to live and the place to die. That's all any man gets. No more, no less. Fire the signal, boy.
Smitty: Yes, sir.
(Another hill. Music: Tennesseans theme. A gunshot is heard)
Thimblerig: Must be Parson and the boy.
Davy Crockett: Think so!
[As Crockett's men ride towards their scouts, the Tennesseans theme segues into a rousing orchestral version of the Ballad coda (accented by a church bell), which in becomes a reprise of the Tennessean's theme.]
Beekeeper: Well, there she be, Colonel! After twenty days of hard riding!
Tennessean 1: We gonn' have to learn the lingo they use down here, Davy?
Tennessean 2: Where do we go, Davy, to the town or to the fort?
Crockett: There's no fort, it's an old mission.
Scotty: You better take a better look. Lot of people movin' in there.
Bob: Them guns don't give it no mission look to me.
Smitty: Colonel, what do C-A-N-T-I-N-A spell?
Bob: Cantina... Do it mean what I think it do?
"It do": It do.
Crockett: It means out of these deerskins and into our foofaraw!
Tennesseans, whooping and cheering [Music: Here's to the ladies]:
- Hey, you've got my coat!
- Come on!
(In the Cantina)
Beekeeper, a woman sitting on his lap: Hey, Pedro! Hand me down that guitar. Now I want you folks all clump in here close together. I want you Texicans to open up your ears and listen to a little pure Tennessee!
Here's to the ladies, I love'em all!
Here's to the ones I recall!
Here's to the ladies, married or free
They all look pretty good to me.
The big and small ones,
The short and tall ones
Each one a lovely Valentine!
(In the street)
(Here's to the ladies, I love the ladies,
Oh, how I wish they all were mine!)
Travis: Captain Dickinson, split your patrol, and send half each way down the river about five miles to look for any signs. Then report back to the mission.
Dickinson: Yes, sir. Forward! Yo!
(In the cantina; a woman falls into Travis' arms as he enters.)
Crockett: Sorry, sir! She sorta came loose.
Travis (to Smitty sitting near the door): I'd like... (louder) I'd like to speak to David Crockett.
Smitty: You did.
Travis: That was David Crockett from Tennessee?
Smitty: Yes, Sir. And I would know. Me and him neighbors back home. Only live forty mile' apart. Col'nel Davy!
Travis: Are you David Crockett, sir?
Crockett: That's my name.
Travis: I'm Colonel Travis, commanding the garrison.
Crockett: I figured. (Drawing Smitty to his woman) Well son, you'd better start growing up!
Travis: I'd like to speak to you on a matter of gravest importance.
Crockett: Sure. Let's find a corner. (Picking a bottle) Talking's dry work. (To Smitty) You're learnin' fast!
Beekeeper: Colonel, I'm resigning from you. I'm gonna marry up with Conchita and be the man of this house. Besame a kiss, señorita! I toss around a mess of that proud Spanish, too.
Crockett: Most important part.
Beekeeper: Let's jig a little, Mamacita.
(Back room; a man's laying on the table near a candle.)
Crockett: Light there and rest easy, Travis, while I bed down this buck. He just ain't got no head for whisky. Parson!
Parson: Yeah, Davy.
Crockett: Take him away.
Parson: Yes, sir!
Crockett: Let's wet our whistles. Words are dusty.
Travis: I don't drink.
Crockett: Not ever?
Crockett: I've heard of such... Well, spread your wampum, Travis.
Travis: My title is Colonel.
Crockett: Me I'm a Colonel too. Wouldn't it sound kinda silly, the two of us chattering Colonel, Colonel, Colonel, like a couple of marcel birds? Just speak right up and call me Crockett. Don't bother to use my title. Old drunken general Flatford gave it to me in the Choctaw Indian war. I'll call you Travis.
Travis: Very well, Crockett. I'd like your permission to make a speech to your men.
Crockett: Well, they heard many a speech when I was congressifying. What would you talk about?
Travis: Oh, about freedom... liberty...
Crockett: Well... They don't need any such speech. These men are from Tennessee.
Travis: But I'd like to explain... why I want them to volunteer to fight against Santa Anna.
Travis: May I?
Crockett (to a Tennessean falling into the chimney): Not so careless! You can't get new clothes this side of Nacogdoches.
Tennessean (to another, a woman riding on his shoulders) Tag! (Punch in the nose)
Crockett, showing them: Tennesseans ain't exactly against fighting - but they ain't much for listening to speeches. What would you tell them?
Travis: Of the many and unendurable hardships the people have been subjected to, under the tyrannical government of this military dictator Santa Anna. We have no rights in the courts, no market for our produce. He has forbidden trade with the North...
Bull, in the doorway: Davy! I want a chance for my money back.
Tennessean: Why don't you leave Davy alone? He done beat you thirty-eight times and-runnin'!
Bull (elbowing Tennessean in the stomach): Thirty-six.
Crockett: This will only take a minute, Travis.
Beekeeper: Give me them feathers. Gentlemen... balance your feathers. Get set... go!
Bull: Ah! Gotcha that time, Davy.
Beekeeper: It was fair and square.
Travis: Now if we can continue, I would like to say you...
Crockett: One minute, Travis. That was just for who gets first chance.
Bull: Prepare yourself, Davy.
Crockett: I'm prepared... (Bull punches Crockett)
Tennessean: He's still on his feet!
Bull: Oh, no!
Beekeeper: Oh, yes!
Crockett: Oh, yes, and it's my turn! (Crockett punches Bull and he goes down)
Smitty: Thirty-nine. Eh, Davy?
Crockett: Seems like.
Beekeeper, to Bull on the floor: You'll never learn! Let's get a bucket of water.
Crockett: Kind of a game the boys play back in Tennessee.
Travis: Even though time is running out, I feel I must postpone this interview until we can be assured of no further interruption.
Crockett: Step down off your high horse, Mister. You don't get lard lessen you boil the hog. Have one of these cigars. I brought'em all the way from New-Orleans. Were you going to tell my Tennesseans that a good many men, sound men all, had a... plot to ease the suffering of the people in these parts? Or were you going to tell them that Steve Austin, Houston and others - and you too, Travis - had planned to declare for a republic? To declare this the Republic of Texas? Were you gonna tell'em that, Travis?
Travis: I hadn't thought this was generally known...
Crockett: It isn't yet. Not till Austin separates the sheep from the goats. Not till he decides who's on the right side. [Music: Ballad coda.] Republic... I like the sound of the word. Means people can live free, talk free, go or come, buy or sell, be drunk or sober - however they choose. Some words give you a feeling. Republic is one of those words that makes me tight in the throat. Same tightness a man gets when his baby takes his first step or... his first baby shaves and makes his first sound like a man. Some words can give you a feeling that make your heart warm. Republic is one of those words.
Travis: Crockett - I have, I believe, learned two things about you.
Crockett: Worthwhile, I hope.
Travis: You're not the illiterate country bumpkin you would have people believe. You speak an excellent and concise English, when you wish. The, uh... bad grammar is a pose.
Crockett: Oh, a fella has to do a lot of things to get elected to Congress - I've kissed many a baby, too.
Travis: The other is that you came to Texas to fight with us.
Crockett: Don't tell my Tennesseans that. They think that we came south to hunt and... get drunk.
Travis: They, uh... seem to have accomplished that.
(Mexican music - Flamenco dance - cheering.)
(In the street. Crockett looks at a young woman waiting for a buggy.)
Emil Sand, in the buggy: Good evening, my almost vanishing lady! (To the driver: ) Puedes irte, Juan.
Juan: Si, Señor Sand.
Sand, to the boy carrying the luggage: Trae el equipaje aqui.
Graciela: This is incredible! I had arranged for this carriage to take me...
Sand: I would be heart-broken if you left Bexar just now. And even more heart-broken if you left with my team of horses... which would bring a pretty penny in these times with two factions buying anything on four legs. (To Crockett:) You have business here?
Crockett: Promised mother.
Sand: Your mother?
Crockett: Pray to the North Star. Ten minutes every night. Long line of star-worshippers. It keeps the rheumatiz away.
Sand: It seems to me you're looking for trouble.
Crockett: It do?
Sand, to Graciela: Let's go upstairs, unless you prefer discussing your business in front of every drunken loafer in Bexar. (To the boy: ¡Andala pues!
(Crockett takes luggage in right hand and boy under left arm.)
Sand: I suppose that overdressed ignoramus is among the riffraff assembling here to resist Santa Anna. Huh! They'll find graves and nothing else. Santa Anna will sweep across...
(He spots Crockett.)
Crockett: Overdressed? I paid good money for these clothes!
(Sand slams the door in Crockett's face. Crockett knocks. Sands opens door.)
Crockett: Lady's luggage. (Sand takes bags and slams door in his face. Crockett knocks) Gratuity for the boy, you forgot.
Mexican boy: Dinero...
(Sand slams door in Crockett's face again. Crockett knocks. Sand comes out with a pistol)
Crockett: Son, I guess he isn't gonna tip you.
(Sands slams door again. Crockett winks at the boy, posts on the other side of the door, knocks, and when Sand steps out, takes Sand's pistol by surprise & enters the room with him)
Crockett: Another thing I promised Mother: never to get in situations where people pointed guns at me. (To Graciela:) Ma'am, it is possible that I am mistaken, but it seems to me you find this gentleman's company distasteful. Now if so...
Sand: Tell him to get out!
Graciela: Thank you, Sir, but there's no way in which... you could be of help. And I am in no danger.
Crockett: I bid you good night, Ma'am. (To Sand:) Gratuity for the boy! (Sand tips the boy; Crockett blows priming powder out of pistol's pan and hands it back to him.) Your property, Sir.
(Sand slams the door as Crockett walks away.)
The boy, to Crockett: Muchísimas gracias.
(On the gallery. Cantina music, in background. Crockett, lighting a cigar, hears a man's voice from a window behind him.
Sand: And therefore, we are guaranteed the protection of the generalissimo himself. Ah, but please, don't misunderstand me. I don't want all of your lands. Half will be sufficient for me, I am no glutton.
Graciela: ¡Tu éres el más digno descendiente de la liga de puercos! ¡El más bajo de los cobardes! ¿Pero cómo es posible que tengas tan poca dignidad, tan poca vergüenza?
(Inside the room)
Sand: Easy Graciela, easy! I speak your language, but that's too fast for me. Though I dare say I'm better off not understanding.
Graciela: You actually wanted me to agree to this... this atrocity?
Sand: I actually did, and I actually do. You are an educated woman, Graciela - intelligent. Is there any other way to restore your family properties? Santa Anna's administrators rule Potosi.
Graciela: You... you expect me to marry you, with my father and my four brothers newly buried in Potosi - and my husband?
(Crockett is looking through the window.)
Sand: I expect it, because it is the logical course.
Graciela: To marry you, logical?
Sand: Of course! I am acceptable to Santa Anna. And if he should be defeated, I would manage to become acceptable to his successors.
Sand: That's the trick, to be acceptable to the powers that be. And let's not pretend you're a broken-hearted widow! You barely knew the man. Your marriage was as much arranged as this one would be. Your family picked him out.
Graciela: That's the way of my people.
Sand: You'll say yes. It's your only possible path. Like all women, you'll postpone the decision, but you will say yes.
(Exit Sand, seeing Crockett smoking on the balcony, hurries downstairs. Crockett walks to Gracielas door and knocks. Graciela opens the door.)
Crockett, throwing his cigar away: Forgive me, Ma'am. But I was having a smoke out on that gallery and I couldn't help but overhear - I wasn't eavesdropping! But it rankles me when somebody tries to force somebody to do something. You haven't seen me before tonight, but I'm offering you my services. If that fella's making you stay in Bexar, I'm ready, willing and able to provide you a transport to wherever you wanna go. And on the other hand, if you choose to stay in Bexar, I'm ready, willing and able to see that he don't bother you.
Graciela: Would you answer one question with complete honesty, Mr... Tall American?
Crockett: Ma'am, only modesty restrains me from telling you that I am widely known for my truthfulness.
Graciela: Would you so quickly offer to defend me if I was sixty years old and wrinkled? Or is it because I am young, and a widow, and you are far from home and your loved ones? But, thank you anyway, sir. In any event, this is a matter in which no outsider could help. And... Mr. Tall American!... I do believe that a woman in trouble, even though sixty and wrinkled, could turn to you for help.
Crockett: Good night, Ma'am.
(In the street; Sand is waiting for Crockett with a group of Mexican charros)
Sand, to his men: ¡Adelante!
(Crockett fights the attackers. Suddenly, Bowie, on horseback rushes into the conflict knocking men everywhere, yelling, jumps from his horse and sides with Crockett. In a few moments the attackers are all either running away or knocked out, except two Bowie holds, one under each arm.)
Crockett to Bowie, Well, thanks, friend. If you don't insist on having them to yourself, I'll give you a hand.
Bowie: Pleasure, friend.
(Crockett pulls Bowie's knife from its sheath and knocks one Mexican out with the knife handle)
Crockett: You must be Jim Bowie. The size and shape is as described, and this knife is certainly everything I heard it was.
Bowie: I'm Bowie.
Crockett: I'm Davy Crockett.
Bowie, still strangling a Mexican under his left arm: Well! I heard a lot about you. (they shake hands)
Crockett: I heard a lot about you, too. I'd admire to buy you a drink - or eight, or ten.
Bowie: Oh, excuse me... (He takes back his knife & fells the Mexican with the handle.) You have some trouble with Emil Sand?
Crockett: Who's Emil Sand?
Crockett: Tall fella, butter-colored hair?
Bowie: Yeah, that's him.
Crockett: I've had some words with him. Intend to have some more. How 'bout that drink?
Bowie: Honored, Congressman Crockett!
Crockett: Oh, please Jim! Don't call me that. I've been trying to live it down.
(Outside the Cantina - where Tennesseans are snoring.)
Smitty: Here's your extra coat, Davy - and a jug.
Crockett: Thoughtful. You'd better get some sleep, Smitty.
Smitty: I'm not tired. It's Mexico! Exciting night.
Crockett: Yeah, well, you'd still better get some sleep.
Smitty: All right, Davy.
Bowie: 'Night, Smitty.
Smitty: Good night, Colonel Bowie... Jim!
Crockett: Took a long time for this night to get un-exciting.
Bowie: It sure did. This is a mighty pretty one, though.
Crockett: Understand you moved down here lock, stock and barrel, Jim.
Bowie: I didn't plan on moving. Came for a visit and stayed.
Crockett: I gather you like it...
Bowie: Oh, Davy, if you only knew Mexico!... It's wonderful.
Crockett: I thought she was a burnt over desert, most of the time.
Bowie: Nah! most Northerners think that, it ain't so! Big valleys between high mountains... Just everything a man could want in the way of country, for looking at or... or for growing on. But mostly... mostly it's the people, Davy. They got... and this is kinda hard to explain, but... they got courage, and they got dignity. They ain't afraid to die... and what seems most important to me is that they ain't afraid to live. Today is important to them, not the dollar tomorrow might bring. Ah, I suppose the Yankees say that's lazy. Me, I say it's a way of livin'. And the womenfolk, pss... Well, Davy!...
Crockett: I figured you favored the Mexican ladies. They tell me you married one.
Bowie: Yeah, I uh... I did. I... Well, Davy, I... I just ain' got... you know, your way of putting things into... into words but... I got a fine family. Wonderful wife and two fine boys. I guess I'm what you'd call a lucky man.
Crockett: Now, that ain't a bad stab at puttin' it into words.
Bowie: I, uh, sent them up to Coahuila, with all the trouble around here, you know, I didn't wanna get them mixed up.
Graciela, to Crockett: May I speak privately with you, sir?
Crockett: Oh sure, but...
Bowie: You're the señora de Lopez, aren't you?
Graciela: Señor Bowie - I am sorry, I did not recognize you at first.
Bowie: Oh, Señora, this place ain't fit for...
Graciela: I know, but the matter is urgent and... Could I have a few private words with this gentleman?
Bowie: Oh sure, excuse me. I'll be inside, Crockett.
Graciela: Crockett? You are the famous David Crockett?
Crockett: Well, I'm Crockett. They named me Davy after an uncle who didn't leave Pa the farm after all.
Graciela: Well, Mr. Crockett, shortly after you left my room, I heard the noise of an altercation in the street. I could hear the sound, though I could not see it from my window. It sounded like... like a drunken brawl.
Crockett: Well, sittin' right here, I didn't hear a thing.
Graciela: Well, anyway, I saw lights in the old church and people moving about, and one of them was Emil. And a thought came to me: as you may know, Colonel Travis has ordered all powder and balls from the merchants of Bexar - and he didn't find any at Emil's warehouse. It's my opinion, it's all hidden in the basement of that church, and... Mr. Crockett, the defenders of Texas are going to need that powder against Santa Anna.
Crockett: And you're against Santa Anna?
Graciela: Bitterly, of course.
Crockett: And this... Emil, he's for him?
Graciela: Yes, he is.
Crockett: Then, how did he figure you'd marry him? Political arguments don't flavor folks' supper.
Graciela: Nevertheless, I am going to marry him, and please let's not discuss it, Mr. Crockett.
Crockett: The name is Davy, and I couldn't sleep nights thinking of you marrying him.
Graciela: Will you say goodbye for me to Mr. Bowie?
Crockett: Well, I...
Graciela: I can make my own way - and I hope the information is helpful.
Crockett: Someth' interesting, Jim. Parson, round up a couple of the men, fairly sober, and meet us out on the street.
Parson: Where are we goin'?
Crockett: To church.
Parson, surprised: Yeah, Davy.
(Outside San Fernando church)
Beekeeper: Hey, Parson! Parson, why'd you run off without me?
Parson: I told him to stay behind. He's drunk.
Beekeeper: Oh, stick to the point: why'd you run off without me?
Crockett: Jim, this is Beekeeper - Jim Bowie.
Crockett: You can come along, but hold your breath: if can they smell, they'll be warned you're coming.
Beekeeper: Hic! 'scuse me.
(In the church)
Bowie, to Beekeeper: Grab that torch.
Beekeeper: Yeah... (He stumbles, catches a rope & rings the bell.) 'Scuse me.
(In the basement)
Bowie: Well! (Handing his torch) Here, Parson...
Parson: Yes, sir.
Beekeeper: Must be fifty of'em!
Crockett, looking at the barrels: Pólvora?
Bowie: That's gunpowder!
Beekeeper, with his torch: Let me take a look at that stuff here.
Bowie: Watch this!
Crockett: Stand back and stand still!
Bowie: Must be a ton of it. I'm sure gonna be looking forward to seeing that soldier boy's face when we bring this in!
Sand, appearing upstairs with his pistol: You'll never have that pleasure.
Crockett: You have something in common with that fellow that beat me in the election. Man sure got around.
Sand: You'll die talking, and soon - and you, the drunken one.
Beekeeper: Hic! 'scuse me.
Sand, to Smitty holding a stick: Drop it! Over with the others.
Parson, kneeling down: Not the boy, he's too young to die! The gates of Heaven swing not ajar for slayer of youth!
Beekeeper, bringing his torch over the powder: We are all going to the same place - at least, we'll start together!
(Sand's thugs run away. While Bowie turns aside Sand's pistols with a stick smash, Crockett grabs his knife and throws it into Sand's chest.)
Parson, to Beekeeper: You were slow enough to catch on!
Bowie: You got good men, Davy. Everyone!
Crockett: Jimmy's knife. You better watch it! First time 'ever want to steal in my life.
Smitty, showing Sand: Is... is he dead?
Crockett: Well, sort of. (To Bowie:) We'll pick this stuff up'n the morning.
Bowie: Yeah, sure. (To Smitty:) Better get some sleep.
(Graciela's room; knocking) Crockett: I saw the light on your window. Thought you'd be fast asleep: it's halfway to daybreak.
Graciela: I couldn't sleep, and... there was so much to think about.
Crockett: Yeah. I always envied people could shut off their thinkin'n' goes on to sleep. Me I'm a stall walker.
Graciela: May I, there's a decanter of wine and... I know this is terribly unconventional. But I... I just seem to have such a desperate need to talk to someone. And... and now that that someone is here, I... just don't know how to start.
Crockett: Well, a good beginning would be to tell me your name. You know mine, but I don't know yours. Bowie said the ... something or other - I don't know what.
Graciela: My name is Graciela Carmela Maria de Lopez y Bexar.
Crockett: Wah! That's a little long for this short memory! What do they call you for short 'n' friendly?
Graciela: Well, when I was a little girl, they used to call me Flaca.
Graciela: It's a kind of nickname for "skinny".
Crockett, looking her up and down: Bad eyes for curves whoever calls you that! (She turns away to hide her grin.) Flaca, this would be a good time, some people would think, for me not to mention this. But don't plan on marrying on that blond-headed Emil. He's dead.
Graciela: Dead... Dead?
Crockett: Died under Bowie's knife. (Shaking his head) Lying is such a hard habit to break... Bowie didn't kill him. The knife was in my hand at that time.
Graciela: Emil's certainly the last human I'd cry over. And yet, I... I'm going to cry. It's just, Davy, that so much has happened to me in such a short time. My family... I don't... Just someone to lean on.
Crockett: Go ahead and cry, Flaca. It may help.]
(Next morning. Shots of Mexicans troops crossing a river.
Music: Mexican's theme.
In Bexar. Crockett is standing upon the veranda outside Flaca's room.)
Graciela, at her window in night dress: It's a beautiful morning, Davy Crockett!
Crockett, saluting: It is that, [Graciela Carmela] Maria de Lopez y Bexar!
Graciela: My goodness! You remember all that?
Crockett: Sure. [Music: Green leaves of Summer] I'm not as stupid as I look from the outside. What's Spanish for "breakfast"?
Crockett: Well, let's take a paseado out and get some desayuno.
Crockett: That means "walk"?
Graciela: That means "have walked" - but never mind, I'll get dressed, and...
Crockett: Wait a minute. First, write me a letter.
Graciela: A letter?
Crockett: In Spanish.
Graciela: Of course. To whom is the letter addressed?
Crockett: "To the honorable Davy Crockett Esquire..."
Graciela: You wish a letter written to yourself?
Crockett: Yep. "To the honorable Davy Crockett Esquire, former congressman of the United States of America. Esteemed Sir..."
(Outside the church; two carts are loaded with powder & guns, the first one driven by Parson & Smitty, the second by Beekeeper.)
Bowie, riding alongside: Let's go! Hurry it up there. (Outside the hotel, to the Gambler: Have you seen Davy?
Thimblerig: Ain't nobody seen Davy, he ain't about.
Crockett: First lie you' told today, Thimblerig!
Bowie: 'Morning, Davy.
Crockett, sitting near Beekeeper: Howdy!
Bull: Say Davy, what kind of load you got there?
Crockett: Presents for some friends. Let's go, Parson!
(Another cart loaded with household things; some fall down)
Mrs Guy: Oh no!... Here, Maribel, take the reins. Well, I declare...
Graciela, smiling: Let me help you.
Mrs Guy: Oh, thank you, Miss. He went-a off on our best horse. And he melted down all night, of course, for bullets. Then he rode off to that damn blasted Sam Houston... Maribel, give her some meal.
Maribel: I can't, Mama, I got the reins.
Mrs Guy: I'm going, he said, ready and willing to die for Texas. Well, he then took the rifle, or he wouldn't' have to wait for Santa Anna to kill him. Any man that leaves his kids to go to wars is nothing but a coward! Ow - thank you, Miss.]
(Alamo front gate)
Sentry: Halt! Who goes there?
Bowie: Is that you, Bob?
Sentry: Why, sure, can't you see?
Bowie: Then what kind of idiot nonsense is this "Who goes there"?
Sentry: Well, Travis - Colonel Travis, that is - he says that I should...
Bowie: I don't care what Travis said. Open the gate 'fore I shoot you off that wall!
Travis (appearing): Sentry! Open the gate for Colonel Bowie.
(In the yard)
Bowie: Near a ton of good powder here, men! Get it unloaded ! That long one there, he's Davy Crockett - and three of his good men!
Crockett: Hello, Travis.
Travis: Colonel Crockett... Looks like the answer to a prayer!
Colonel, I'd be pleased if you'd join me in my quarter for some refreshment.
Crockett: Proud to.
Travis: Oh, and you too, Colonel Bowie, if you will.
Beekeeper, to Dennison: I'm a stranger around these here parts. What do you Texicans use for drinkin' whiskey?
Dennison: Drinkin' whiskey.
Beekeeper: Well, you got manners, or aintcha?
(The gallery outside Travis's office)
Travis: Captain Dickinson, this is Colonel Davy Crockett.
Dickinson: Pleased to meet you.
Crockett: How do you do?
Travis: Oh, and this is my cousin, Mrs. Dickinson - Colonel Crockett.
Susannah: Colonel Bowie...
Bowie: Hello Sue.
Susannah: Well, it's nice meeting you, Davy Crockett. I feel as if I know you already, you see... part of my family comes from Tennessee and - well, your name is a household word there - at least, in our house it was.
Crockett: Thank you Ma'am. It's nice to be well thought of.
Susannah: Oh, yes darling. Oh! I've asked you not to climb those stairs alone.
Crockett: Well, who's this?
Susannah: You say hello to Colonel Crockett?
Crockett: Every size they get to, seems to be the most lovable.
Susannah: Will you gentlemen excuse me?
Lisa: Goodbye, Colonel.
Crockett: Goodbye!... Kind of a shame kids have to grow up into people.
Travis: It's good we're all here, gentlemen! A cigar?... Please, make yourselves comfortable. I have some news. Fannin is doing well at Goliad. He's mustered almost a thousand men and should be ready to move south by the first of the week.
Bowie: A thousand? It don't seem possible.
Travis: It does sound too good to be true, I must confess. But we can only admit our doubts to each other, in the privacy of a room, and not in front of the men. As far as the volunteers are concerned, we'll be sure that Fannin has a thousand men - or more.
Bowie: I got a reputation for truth, Travis.
Crockett: I ain't. Everybody says I'm a born liar. But whether we talk out loud or quiet don't seem to me the point right now. Point is how many men has Fannin, and will he get here in time?
Bowie: Whether he does or doesn't, we'll be trapped here, and for no reason. What we should do is burn all of Bexar, including this mission, and...
Travis: And fight a harassing action? Annoy Santa Anna while he sweeps north across the whole of Texas? That's Colonel Bowie's theory...
Bowie: We could hit and run!
Travis: ...and I can't accept that idea!
Bowie: ...Jump him at every creek crossing between here and San Jacinto...
Travis: You seem to forget one thing, Colonel Bowie...
Travis: That I command - and I have already decided against your plan! Now... Let us attack a more important problem: Colonel Crockett's Tennesseans. Will they fight, Colonel?
Crockett: Up to the last time I saw'em, they hadn't shown any strong feelings against fighting.
Travis: But can you persuade your men to come into this mission?
Crockett: I can ask them.
Travis: And you're a very persuasive man, according to your reputation... Build up the story that Fannin has a thousand - no, two thousand men. Play down the size of Santa Anna's army and...
Bowie: Hold on, Travis! We've been all through this. He wants me to lie to my men too - keep'em here with lies!
Travis: Let the truth of Santa Anna's strength be known down there in the yards, and by daybreak, there won't be a baker's dozen left!
Bowie: You're calling my boys cowards?
Travis: Let us dispense with fire-eaters pyrotechnics, Colonel Bowie!
Bowie: Just remember this, Travis: my men are all volunteers, they're here because they wanna be. But there's nothing to keep'em from packing up and getting out of here!
Travis: I'm aware that your men are militia, and like all volunteers, undisciplined! Good day, Colonel Bowie.
[Exit Bowie. Music: Ballad coda.]
Crockett: Last night gave you a pretty good idea of the discipline of my men...
Travis: Our position here is desperate. And I feel sure that at where Crockett leads, his men will follow.
Crockett: Yeah. That's a responsibility that's ... been kinda worrying me.
[Music: The Eyes of Texas.]
(In the yard) Bowie: You know, Davy, some years ago, I swore off drawing my knife every time somebody disagreed with me, but I'm telling you that Travis is driving me rather...
Crockett: That word Jim, uh...
Bowie: What word?
Crockett: Pyrotechnics. What does that mean?
Bowie: Why, it means uh... uhh... Ah! You know what it means as well as I do!
Crockett: Sure - and you were a little on the fireworks side, Jim... See you.
Bowie: Yeah. ]
Beekeeper: Thank you, gentlemen. I'm'onna pass the word around: what you Texans use for drinkin' whiskey... is drinkin' whiskey. And what's more important, you got real good manners... seeing how you suffer of the handicap having never been in Tennessee.
Bowie's man: Hey Davy, is it true that you fit a four-day fight with Mike Fink?
Crockett: Why, that's a blasted lie! One of them stories loose-mouth' people tell around. Mike and me quit at sundown. Would've been the fourth day until... next morning. See you men.
Smitty: Let her rip, Parson!
(Outside the hotel)
Crockett: Señora Lopez...
Graciela, to Seguin: Don Juan, this is Mr. Davy Crockett.
Seguin: I'm honored.
Crockett: How do you do?
Graciela: Señor Seguin is the alcalde - I mean, the mayor of San Antonio de Bexar.
Crockett: Uh, he's got a pretty busy town. The people are running like sheep that have smelled a wolf pack.
(Under the veranda)
Beekeeper: I never said no such a thing! [Music: Here's to the ladies.] When us took that powder in there, that fella Travis asked if us Tennesseans wasa gonna join up with him. That's all. (To Thimblerig He never asked us to fight his fight for him!
Thimblerig, putting a tamale in his mouth: Have some breakfast.
Beekeeper, spitting: Breakfast! Tortillas?
Mexican seller: Tamale!
Beekeeper, a drink in hand: Never get burnt drinking this stuff.
Thimblerig: Well, I only know part of this here Texas, and none of these here Texicans is related to me, so why should I fight for them?
Tennessean: Right. Ain't our ox that's gettin' gored.
Crockett: Talking about whose ox gets gored, figure this: fellow gets in the habit of goring oxes, whets his appetite. He may come up north next and gore yours! Men, we're in a little fix, sort of. The he-bull around here, general Santa Anna, he's mad at us.
Crockett: He's wrote us a letter. I can't read it, it's in Spanish, (winking at Flaca) but the young lady will.
Graciela: It is addressed to Davy Crockett, and the Tennesseans who accompany him. "Be it known: you are interlopers in a country where you are neither wanted nor welcome. [Music: Degüello] This is the order you are given: depart with all haste and at once, because it has come to our attention that you are possibly considering joining the rebels now ensconced in the mission. This is not your fight. Depart. Should you fail to abide by this order, I shall chastise you even unto death. Signed: Generalìssimo Antonio Miguel de Santa Anna."
Beekeeper: Huh! Fellow kinda fancies himself, don't he? Sure does have a big sounding name...
Tennessean: Givin' us orders... Who do he think he am? Andy "by God" Jackson?
Thimblerig: Riles me when somebody tells me to go here, or I can't go there.
Beekeeper: I ain't never been run outta no place... Except the time my old paw kicked me over every acre of that half section back in Ohio. But I was just a shirt-tail kid then - 'n' my paw had big feet.
Thimblerig: Well what do you say, Davy? 'We gonna let this man tell us what we can or can't do?
Smitty, crossing his arms: Davy, maybe we'd better saddle up and pay this fella a visit. (All look at him.)
Bob: Do chastise mean what I think it do?
"It do": It do.
Beekeeper: Davy, let's do saddle up and go learn that gentleman his manners!
Crockett: We won't have to. He is wearing out horses coming toward us.
Beekeeper: Hm hm... Guess we can't stop him from coming... But I reckon we can arrange for him to limp going back!
Tennessean: I swear I's beginning to think these Texicans wasn't as neighborly as they might be, but here they've gone and arranged a nice fight for us visitors.
Crockett: One thing I'll oughta tell you - Santa Anna never wrote that letter. I did. Or rather, I had this lady here write it. I was figuring how to tell you fellas about this Texican hoedown. And I was wondering what this Santa Anna would've said to us Tennesseans if he'd had had a chance to say it.
Beekeeper: Davy, I ain't never said I ain't been whooped. I have. But I give each and everyone of them fellas a chance to dig in and get the job done. But I ain't never took nobody's word in advance they's gonna chast... to...
Thimblerig, standing up: Chastise.
Beekeeper: Chastise, much obliged.
Thimblerig: Well, speak up, Davy. We're gonna stay ain't we?
Crockett: Well, I'm... I'm thinking it over.
Beekeeper: What is there to think about? You' getting that old? 'Man toed the mark and dared us! Chastise, he said!
Bull: That's right, chastise!
Crockett: But I wrote the letter!
Beekeeper: Oh, now don't you start weaselin'! You said yourself them would be the very words he'd write us, iff'n he was to write us a letter!
Crockett: Well, gentlemen... You convinced me. We'll fight.
Beekeeper: Ah! That's more like it!
Tennesseans: Now you're talkin', Davy.
Crockett: But first, the young lady and I will take a pasear. Gather up your possibles and I'll meet up with you later.
Tennessean: Right, Davy.
Crockett, to Seguin: Con permiso...
[Music: Ballad coda]
Graciela: Your Spanish is improving.
Beekeeper: Kind of cheers me to see the Colonel with that lady. Last couple of years he had me worried. Lately, he ain't been looking at the girls like he's starved. [Music shifts to
Thimblerig: Being in congress has ruined many a good man.
(In the forest ) Graciela: All I hear is Crockett the bear-killer, Crockett the Indian-fighter, Crockett the brawler... Crockett has brains.
Crockett: Kept it hidden a number of years.
You like my Tennesseans, Flaca?
Flaca: Oh yes!
Crockett: 'Could strain ten thousand and never come up with twenty-three better. Everyone of those men has been at my elbow - save the boy, Smitty - when some difficulty arose. Some of them don't bath this often as polite folks would think necessary, but every one of them smells sweet to me! And I was the one that said this country was burnt-over sand! It's green and growing - like those green pastures they talk about. Lord above! That's one beautiful tree!
[Music: Green Leaves of Summer, orchestral version] This tree must've been growed before man put his first dirty footprints on this prairie. Kind of a tree Adam and Eve must have met under. (Flaca leans against the trunk.) You know something, Flaca? I guess I saw who-knows-how-many trees before I ever took a long, thoughtful look at one. Mostly I looked at a tree to see was there a bear in it or an Indian behind it.
Graciela: Davy, what's going to happen to us? I mean, to you and me?
Crockett: Well, when I was a boy in Kentucky a... fella and his gal, he'd ... hang up a bunch of trees like that, cut one down for a ridgepole and... built a cabin alongside the other. Seems like all anyone would ever need. I guess some of us need more than that.
Graciela: So many things have happened to me lately that... I'm almost never sure of anything. But I think I love you.
Crockett: Could be. Old buck, young doe... Each has something the other lacks. I'm gonna tell you something, Flaca, and I want you to listen tight. It may sound that I'm talking about me, but I'm not, I'm talking about you. As a matter of fact, I'm talking about all people everywhere. When I came down here to Texas, I was looking for something. I didn't know what. It seems like you added up my life and I've spent it all either stomping other men - or in some cases getting stomped. Had me some money, and had me some medals. But none of it seemed a lifetime worth the pain of the mother that bore me. 'Was like I was empty. Well I'm not empty any more. That's what's important. [Music: Ballad coda.] To feel useful in this old world. To hit a lick against what's wrong, or to say a word for what's right, even though you get walloped for sayin' that word. Now, I may sound like a Bible beater yellin' up a revival at a river crossing camp meeting, but that don't change the truth none. There's right and there's wrong. You gotta do one or the other. You do the one and you're living. You do the other, and you may be walking around, but you're dead as a beaver hat... I'd hoped for a horse, but there's nothing wrong with a good strong mule.
Graciela: My things! All. All my luggage is' in the buggy.
Crockett: Had my men take care of it. Your geegaws may be rough-packed, but they're all there.
Graciela: You are sending me away. You... you talked about the fight against evil, but you... you are sending me to safety. Is that what love does, Davy?]
Crockett: Flaca, you have an important name. You know a million words, and how they should be used. I'm sending you to fight your war: to talk up a howling mob. I'll stay here and hit a lick. I hope you can drive a mule.
Parson: His name's Jesus, they told me. He seems a good, honest mule.
Graciela: Maybe I'll never see you again.
[Music: Green Leaves of summer, accordion]
Crockett: 'That what's written, that's what's written. When it's time it's time. Talkin' only makes it the harder, Flaca. So stir up that mule.
Flaca: Davy, I... (She snaps the whip on the mule and pulls away)
Parson: You never pray, do you, Davy?
Crockett: I never found the time.
(At the Alamo. Music: Tennesseans theme.)
Sentry, at front gate: Sir, Tennesseans!
Dickinson, calling: Colonel Travis! Crockett and his men.
Travis, coming up the stairs: Go down and open the gate.
Dennison: I'll just holler down.
Travis: Your orders were to go down, not holler down, Mr. Dennison!
Dennison: Yes, sir...
Travis, to Dickinson: Crack shots, those Tennesseans!
Dickinson: Twenty times their number's what we need, and more... Oh, I'm sorry, Will. Such gloomy remarks are for your ears alone.
Travis: Isn't that Bowie galloping up there to catch'em? I can just hear him pleading his cause.
Dickinson: Crockett seems to me the type of man that would choose Bowie.
Travis: What you mean is Crockett isn't the type of man to choose me?
Dickinson: Oh, Will! Depend on you to say it the most brutal way.
Travis: Most facts are brutal. Just look at that great knife-fighter yapping at Crockett. "Cut, slash and run!" Let's get mounted. "Cut, slash'n' run!"
(On the road)
Bowie: Cut, slash and run. Cost Santa Anna fifty or a hundred troops at every creek crossing between here and the North.
Crockett: Sounds reasonable the way you put it, Jim - but Travis, he's got a point too. Takes thinkin' on.
Sentry: Hey, Jim, halt! Who goes there?
Bowie: Bob! I swear I'm gonna shoot you off that wall! Are you blind?
Bob: That's what's I was told to holler every time.
Bowie: Well, don't holler at me! (To Crockett: Idiot... You think on it, Davy, you'll side with me.
(In the yard - a bell rings as music ends.)
Blind Nell: What is it?
Jocko: Tennesseans, Nell. Twenty-three of'em. All the way from home.
Nell: Do you recognize any of them, Jocko? Could be my brother Malachai with them? Oh, he was a considerable fellow to go where there was trouble.
Jocko: He was that. But Nell, you know, Malachai was hung - or so some folks told us.
Travis: Colonel Crockett, I am glad you were able to persuade your men to join us.
Crockett: Well, they insisted, sort of.
Travis: Our heartiest welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, we are proud to welcome these patriotic men who have traveled fifteen hundred miles to join us in our hour of need. Sergeant Lightfoot!
Lightfoot: Yes, sir?
Travis: You will have your men raise a cheer for our gallant allies from the illustrious state of Tennessee.
Lightfoot: Yes, Sir! Hip, hip!
Travis: Captain, you will attend to the billeting of these men. After you are quartered, gentlemen, I will take you on a tour of the emplacements.
Dickinson: This way, gentlemen.
Jocko: Crockett! Davy Crockett! We're from Tennessee.
Crockett: Howdy, folks!
Nell: We've seen you when you came to Stink Wells, speak about that job for Congress.
Jocko: You shook hands with me.
Crockett: Oh, I'll do her again! (Shake-hands)
Nell: He didn't vote for you though. Other fella gave him four bits.
Jocko: I'm sorry.
Crockett: Don't be. Glad there were enough sensible folks like you to vote me out of that job. But later on, we'll have a real old home talkfest, but right now, we got to get quartered and bedded down. 'You excuse us?
Nell: You should have voted for him, Jocko!
(In town - Music: Mexicans theme)
Officer: ¡Columna a la izquierda!
(The Alamo. On the roof of the chapel.)
Travis: Of our twenty-four pieces of ordnance, five of these six-pounders.
Sentry: Something's stirring in town!
Travis: Ladies will take cover, please! Men, to your battle positions!
(In town - Mexican cavalry rides in. A soldier snatches a villager's shirt to make a white flag)
Mexican officer: ¡Teniente Rodriguez! Los documentos...Teniente, compla con sus ordones.
Rodriguez: Si, Señor.
Travis: Captain Dickinson, are your men disposed?
Dickinson: At their posts, sir!
Travis: No one will fire unless I so order! Those people are under the protection of a flag of truce!
(In front of palisade
Teniente Rodriguez: Columna, ¡alto! (Reading "From the headquarters of Generalìssimo Antonio López de Santa Anna, absolute ruler of Mexico, to the rebel commander who deems himself in command of the rebels occupying the mission. Be it known: the province of Mexico known as Texas has shown itself to be in active and treasonous revolt against the rule of Generalìssimo Santa Anna. The Generalìssimo in his kindness, issues the following order: All occupants of the mission will leave at once, leaving all arms and ammunition behind them. If this order is not followed with dispatch, the Generalìssimo will be reducing' the mission by assault. There will be no quarter given. Signed..."
(Travis lights the cannon's match with his cigar; cannon fires.)
Rodriguez: ¡Columna a la derecha! ¡Marchen!
(Travis turns on his heel and walks away)
Crockett: Well, what do you think, Jim?
Bowie: Hm... I hate to say anything good about that long-winded jackanapes, but he does know the short way to start a war.
[Music: Ballad coda.]
continued in next post