Ride with the Devil

A little late, Dutchy. Ain't it so? Sener.

Buddy.

Mornin'.

Wow. Looks great. Hi, Mr. Roedel.

Giver of all spiritual grace...

the author of everlasting life, send thy blessings...

upon these, thy servants -

this man and this woman whom we bless in thy name -

that as Isaac and Rebekah lived faithfully together...

so these persons may surely perform and keep...

the vow and covenant between them made.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here -

What's ticklin' you?

Do you smell somethin' funny?

Fool. It's the cologne my ma slapped on me this mornin'.

...signifying unto us the mystical union

What brings you so late to Sister's funer -

I mean wedding. My pa had me workin'.

Huh. Son.

Let him speak now or else forever hold his peace.

Do you believe all those men are necessary, Horton?

We can take no further chances, Asa.

You and I both know it'll soon be war between us and the Yankee aggressors.

With that black republican Abe Lincoln in the White House...

Missouri's no longer safe from the depredations

of Jennison and his Kansas Jayhawkers.

They've yet to strike this deep into Missouri, Horton.

Lawrence, Kansas, and its abolitionists are a long way from here.

There are Union men even here amongst us, Asa.

Schmitz and his Germans form a militia at Independence...

and his Lawrence cohorts have eyes and ears amongst us.

Even here.

If you refer to us Bowdens, Lee, you are sorely mistaken.

We may be Union men, yes. But we are Southerners too.

Now, you know very well we'll have no hand in jayhawking

or abolitionist provocations.

I did not imply it, sir. I believe, sir, you did.

Now, gentlemen, my home is no place, and this is no time for political quarrels.

We are all old friends here.

Asa Chiles, you have spoken truly. My apologies, Horton.

Well said, sir.

Horton. Horton.

Bye. Take care now.

I've been thinking, Jack Bull. A wedding is a peculiar thing.

It's no more peculiar, Jake, than slavery. That's certain.

That's why I've often wondered for what cause those Northerners

are so anxious to change our Southern institutions.

Hmm. From both North and South

men are every day enslaved at the altar, regardless of their state or color.

Well, there's a type of subjugation. We shall avoid it, Jake.

Happily my poverty ensures my freedom from such a fate.

Oh, no. Not if my mother can help it.

I heard her singin' your praises earlier to the sister of the groom.

Good day, Mrs. Chiles. Sir. Father.

Please give our regards to your father, Jake. You know he's always invited.

He's more comfortable workin'.

You must at the least bring Mr. Roedel some of the cake.

I will, ma'am. Thank you.

Guten Abend.

Guten Abend, Herr Meyer. Guten Abend, Ja.

Guten Abend. Guten Abend.

Father, Mrs. Chiles sends her regards. A piece of the cake.

You are to see tomorrow Mrs. Kreuzer.

The war it is sure to come now, with the secession.

Mrs. Kreuzer's husband will take you in Saint Louis.

Pa, I told you. I'm not gonna huddle with all the other Lincoln-lovin' Germans in Saint Louis.

It is safer. For us, this is no war.

Pa, you may have borne me in Germany, but I was raised here.

These are my people. And if it gets hot - Your people?

No, Jacob, this they are not.

You will always be a Deutschman, a German to them

no matter with who you are friends.

Promise me you'll go to Mrs. Kreuzer.

All right, come on! Get 'em all out!

Where is he? Where is he?

I got him! I got him!

Oh, no!

Where's your boy, Asa? My son's gone.

Where's your boy?

Jake. Jack Bull.

He told me to run, Jake. He told me.

Did you see who they are?

Jayhawkers, Jake. Lawrence men.

Father!

Come on! Don't you die here too.

Find the boy. Let's go look in the mill.

You men find the boy!

Asa!

Oh, my God!

Ted? Riders.

Gentlemen. Captain Henderson, Company D.

You boys have rid a bit far from home.

Hell, spent two nights trackin' this bushwhacking bastard...

and his Confederate friends through the Sni-A-Bar.

What are you boys doin' this far into Missouri?

Just rootin' out rebels and conscriptin' chickens.

Been through all Cass and Lafayette Counties.

Killed our share.

Not much action in Lafayette.

We got four Sunday last.

Stretched their necks.

They're still hanging.

Hey, George. Fetch that busthead out there.

So you men were in on Lafayette? Yes, sir.

But we're tirin' of chasin' these rebs into the bush.

Can't trust none of these locals. They're all hidin' 'em.

I wish we had a real army to fight.

Not these sneakin' bastards.

Battles and armies - it's all back East.

Down here in Missouri, you just have the people to fight ya.

Ted.

Ted!

So you were in on Lafayette, huh?

Bushwhackers!

Doin' business with the Yankee invaders, huh?

No. They forced me.

He's dead.

You killed him.

Shoot me too, please.

We don't hurt women, ma'am.

We took her man. We should leave her the store.

Come on, Jake. It's gettin' hot in here.

Enough of this, boys. Let's load up!

Black John.

George Clyde.

Yep.

Well met, my man. Well met.

Hey, boy. Watch that man. He's a cheat.

Jack Bull.

You boys will love riding with George Clyde.

Makes Yankee killin' as entertaining a pastime as greasin' ganders.

Who's guns are those? Even Holt over there.

You'll get used to him. That's Holt.

That's George Clyde's pet nigger.

Don't call him that in front of George though. George don't like that.

He carries those? Yep.

He's a damn fine scout. George tosses him a gun a good Yankee kill or two.

You know, him and Clyde growed up together.

When Jim Lane's boys come for Clyde, Holt there sent three of them to heaven.

So he rides with us now.

'Cause them Yankees want to kill him real bad.

Yeah. Well, a nigger with guns is still a nervous thing to me.

We're lookin' for the Dorr's place, ma'am.

It's just up the road.

Who are you?

Why, we are Southern men, and hungry.

You don't look like Southern men.

How do I know?

Woman, my name is Crawford. One of the Six Point Creek Crawfords.

Do you know me?

I knew the father.

Well, come on. Eat as what we have.

Ma'am.

You alone here? Yes.

Well, no. My man's at Arkansas with Shelby.

My son's in the barn.

Is he grown?

He was.

Gave up a leg at Wilson's Creek.

I keep him hid away. Union Jayhawkers would kill him.

He should ride with us.

Oh, no. He won't fight.

He's done with that.

Hello inside.

Show yourself, Clark. We're friends.

Bushwhackers. I could have killed you both.

But it ain't even loaded.

Not no need of that. We're friends.

Oh, you suppose so, do you? I don't.

You were at Wilson's Creek. Who with?

Why, with General Price.

The fat glory-hound rebel himself.

Didn't see that one comin', huh?

Oh, I saw it comin'.

I saw it rollin' past the little piles of meat and bone which I once called my friends.

I watched it roll right up to me.

If you saw it comin', couldn't you have dodged it?

Well, nature bore me smart. That changes things.

I wanted my foot broke so's I could head home.

Damn little cannonball was rollin' slower than a fevered rabbit.

You are a fool. Cannonball will rip your leg -

Well, General Price is a good man.

Why don't you have us fetch you something to eat.

I have a mother for that.

I don't eat anyway. Tryin' something different.

You'll be killed anyways.

Jayhawkers or militias - someone or the other stop here and kill you.

Oh, they already been here. Burned the barn.

I wouldn't even move to put it out. Ma done it.

Likely you boys will kill me now.

I don't much care.

You wanna die?

Perhaps you choose to die now.

I have some experience in the killing line, Clark. I could do you a fair job of it this minute.

No.

No, Ma has her heart set on me livin'.

You sure of that? I'm here now loaded.

I don't believe so.

Your mother's a fine enough woman.

You could help her out some, don't you think?