The Holy Sabbath Morning - A Novel of the Alamo - Softcover

Dunbar, Bob W.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1892896796 ISBN 13: 9781892896797

Publisher: Infinity Publishing, 1998

Synopsis

In the early morning hours of March 6, 1836, a ragged band of Texas freedom fighters fought to the death rather than surrender to an overwhelming army of Mexican soldiers. The story of that stand, and of the thirteen-day siege that preceded it, represents one of the most compelling events in American history. Now, the reader can relive this epic story in Bob W. Dunbar's stirring new novel, The Holy Sabbath Morning. This vivid, thoroughly researched re-creation will place the reader right in the middle of the action, right beside the heroic men - both the storied and the unsung - of both sides.

About this title

About the Author:

Bob Dunbar is a free-lance writer whose work has appeared in a number of historical publications. Born and educated in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, he spent several years living and working in the AmericanWest. He currently resides in Des Moines, Iowa, where he is at work on his next novel.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

It was just after midafternoon when Bonham topped the hill a mile and a half from the Alamo. He pulled the mustang up short, both to give the animal a brief rest, and to assess the situation before him.

That the Alamo still held, he had known from the steady rumble of cannon fire he had been hearing all day. What he hoped to find now was a gap in the Mexican lines that would allow him to make a dash into the fort in broad daylight. Risky, but if he had to wait for darkness, he would be more likely to blunder into an enemy patrol before he even knew he was in danger. It would be a hell of a note, he told himself, to have come this far only to end up killed or captured within sight of his goal.

Except for the occasional flash and roar of artillery, the scene before him looked strangely orderly and peaceful from here. Everything looked to be precisely laid out, as if on some giant gameboard. The only alarming note was how much closer the Mexicans had pulled their lines during the time he bad been gone - and how many more of them there seemed to be. Even so, they had a lot of area to cover, and it looked as if they were still spread pretty thinly. If a man kept his wits about him, Bonham decided, there were plenty of spaces he could slip through.

His mind made up, Bonham climbed from the saddle and checked his cinch. From a pocket of his jacket he drew half a dried apple and offered it to the mustang. The velvety muzzle was warm against his palm while his other hand stroked the animal's neck reassuringly. While the big teeth demolished the apple, Bonham swung back into the saddle.

Miraculously, he hadn't been spotted yet. Taking care not to silhouette himself against the skyline, he began his descent, angling off toward the northwest in the hope of getting a clear run at the corral gate. Although every nerve screamed at him to run like hell, he forced himself to take his time, as if this were no more than a casual Sunday outing. No sense in using up the horse until he had to.

He had covered almost a mile in this leisurely fashion when he spotted a cavalry patrol coming hard from his left. Oh, Christ, here we go, he thought as he sank his spurs into the mustang's flanks. It was all up to the horse now. Though he had a pretty good lead on his pursuers, Bonham wasn't sure just how much reserve the mustang had left. He had pushed the animal pretty much without letup since leaving Gonzales. Still, he had to get into the fort, and there was no turning back now.

As he crashed through the brush bordering a dry creek bed, Bonham came across something he hadn't counted upon. A Mexican artillery crew lounged about, taking their ease in the weak winter sunlight. With his guts in his throat Bonham lashed the mustang straight through the middle of the camp.

The terrified Mexicans scattered in all directions to avoid being pounded into the ground by this unexpected intruder. Before they could get to their stacked weapons, the man and horse had already streaked out of range. The dust of their passage still hung in the air as the pursuing cavalry thundered through, scattering the frustrated artillerymen again.

Bonham was close enough to the Alamo now to note the battered appearance of the walls. They had obviously taken a hell of a pounding, but at least they still stood. An even more welcome sight was that of the heads and shoulders of the men behind them as they prepared to lay down a covering fire.

With still more than a hundred yards to go, Bonham could feel the mustang begin to falter. Risking a backward glance, he could see that the Mexicans were rapidly closing the gap betwwen them, almost coming within range of the carbines they carried. Expecting a hail of bullets any second now, Bonham leaned low over the mustang's neck in order to make a smaller target.

A line of skirmishers dashed through the corral gate, rifles at the ready. Good Lord, Bonham thought, I might make it, after all.

The Mexicans pulled up and opened fire just as Bonham raced past the line of men from the fort. Their old smoothbore carbines weren t up to the job, though, and Bonham never even slowed down.

The ragged line of Texan rifles crackled savagely in reply, bringing the front ranks of the patrol down in a confused tangle of downed men and horses. By the time the officer in charge could restore his men to some semblance of order, the last of the skirmishers was disappearing through the gate. Ignoring the taunts from the walls, he ordered his men to retreat at the gallop.

In the Alamo corral, Bonham practically fell from the saddle in relief. "Lord God," he declared as someone led the mustang away, "for a while there, I thought they had me."

"God damn, Lootenant, you ride near 'bout like a Comanche," Eliel Melton exclaimed as he clapped Bonham on the shoulder with a hand caked with dried blood from the cattle he had been slaughtering.

Travis appeared in the archway that led to the plaza. Thank God, he thought when he saw that it was Bonham who had caused all the commotion. Fannin must have decided to come after all. He and his men must be somewhere out in the hills, getting ready to fight their way in. Damned if it wasn't just like Bonham, though, to pull some harebrained stunt like this, just to bring the word.

"Jim, it's good to see you again," Travis said warmly, offering his hand. That was a hell of a ride."

"Thanks, Will." Bonham accepted the extended hand. "I never thought I could be so glad to see a place again."

Travis felt his elation start to melt away. Something in Bonham's manner told him the news wasn't good. It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask about Fannin, but now, with so many of the men crowded about, he had second thoughts about the idea. "Come with me," he said to Bonham. To Joe, who had wandered over from the palisade, he said, "Tell Colonel Crockett and Captain Dickinson to come to my quarters in ten minutes."

About this edition

• Publisher: Infinity Publishing
• Publication date: 1998
• ISBN 10: 1892896796
• ISBN 13: 9781892896797
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 338