Vigilance mob drives his mother from home.—Three companies of
troops sent to Big river.—Captain Flanche murders Washington
Hildebrand and Landusky.—Captain Esroger murders John
Roan.—Capt. Adolph burns the Hildebrand homestead and murders
Henry Hildebrand.
I shall now give a brief account of the fresh enormities committed
against the Hildebrand family. The same vindictive policy inaugurated
by the Vigilance mob was still pursued by them until they succeeded, by
misrepresentation, in obtaining the assistance of the State and Federal
troops for the accomplishment of their designs.
A Dutch company, stationed at North Big River Bridge, under Capt.
Esroger; a Dutch company stationed at Cadet, under Capt. Adolph, and
a French company stationed at the Iron Mountain, under Capt. Flanche,
were all sent to Big River to crush out the Hildebrand family.
Emboldened by their success in obtaining troops, the Vigilance mob
marched boldly up to the Hildebrand homestead and notified my mother,
whom they found reading her Bible, that she must immediately leave the
county, for it was their intention to burn her house and destroy all
her property.
My mother was a true Christian; she was kind and affectionate to
everybody; her hand was always ready to relieve the distressed, and
smooth the pillow for the afflicted; the last sight seen upon earth by
eyes swimming in death has often been the pitying face of my mother, as
she hovered over the bed of sickness.
I appeal to all her neighbors—I appeal to everybody who knew her—to say
whether my mother ever had a superior in this respect.
When ordered to leave her cherished home, to leave the house built
by her departed husband, to leave the quiet homestead where she had
brought up a large family, and where every object was rendered dear by
a thousand sweet associations that clung to her memory, she turned her
mind inwardly, but found nothing there to reproach her; then to her God
she silently committed herself.
She hastily took her Bible and one bed from the house—but nothing
more. She had arrangements made to have her bed taken to the house of
her brother, Harvey McKee, living on Dry Creek, in Jefferson county,
distant about thirty five miles. Then, taking her family Bible in her
arms, she burst into a flood of tears, walked slowly out of the little
gate, and left her home forever!
I will here state that I was the only one of the Hildebrand family who
espoused the Rebel cause. After the murder of my brother Frank, I had
but three brothers left: William, Washington and Henry. William joined
the Union army and fought until the close of the war. Washington took
no part in the war, neither directly nor indirectly. Never, perhaps,
was there a more peaceable, quiet and law-abiding citizen than he
was; he never spoke a word that could be construed into a sympathy for
the Southern cause, and I defy any man to produce the least evidence
against his loyalty, either in word or act. While the war was raging,
he paid no attention to it whatever, but was busily engaged in lead
mining in the St. Joseph Lead Mines, three miles from Big River Mills,
and about six miles from the old homestead. In partnership with him was
a young man by the name of Landusky, a kind, industrious, inoffensive
man, whose loyalty had never once been doubted. My sister Mary was his
affianced bride, but her death prevented the marriage.
My brother Henry was a mere boy, only thirteen years of age. Of course
he was too young to have any political principles; he was never accused
of being a Rebel; no accusation of any kind had ever been made against
him; he was peaceable and quiet, and, like a good boy, he was living
with his mother, and doing the best he could toward supporting her.
True, he was very young to have the charge of such a farm, but he was
a remarkable boy. Turning a deaf ear to all the rumors and excitements
around him, he industriously applied himself to the accomplishment of
one object, that of taking care of his mother.
On the 6th day of July, 1862, while my brother Washington and Mr.
Landusky were working in a drift underground, Capt. Flanche and his
company of cavalry called a halt at the mine, and ordered them to come
up; which they did immediately.
[Illustration: FEDERAL ATROCITY.]
No questions were asked them, and no explanations were given. Flanche
merely ordered them to walk off a few steps toward a tree, which they
did; he then gave the word “fire!” and the whole company fired at them,
literally tearing them to pieces!
I would ask the enlightened world if there ever was committed a more
diabolical deed? If, in all the annals of cruelty, or in the world‘s
wide history, a murder more cold-blooded and cruel could be found?
A citizen who happened to be present ventured to ask in astonishment
why this was done; to which Flanche merely replied, as he rode off,
“they bees the friends of Sam Hildebrass!”
It was now Capt. Esroger‘s time to commit some deed of atrocity, to
place himself on an equality with Capt. Flanche; so after a moment‘s
reflection, he concluded that the murder of my uncle, John Roan, would
be sufficient to place his brutality beyond all question.
John Roan was a man about fifty years of age, was proverbial for his
honesty, always paid his debts, and kept himself entirely aloof from
either side during the war, but against his loyalty nothing had ever
been produced, or even attempted.
One of his sons was in the Union army, and another was a Rebel.
Being my uncle, and the father of Allen Roan, however, was a sufficient
pretext for the display of military brutality.
His house was situated about three miles from St. Joseph Lead Mines
and about the same distance from the Hildebrand estate.
On the 10th day of July, Capt. Esroger and his company rode up to his
house, and the old man came out onto the porch, with his white locks
streaming in the wind, but never once did he dream of treachery.
Esroger told him that he “vos one tam prisoner,” and detailed six men
to guard him and to march along slowly until they should get behind.
They did so until they got about a mile from his house; there they made
him step off six paces, and while his eyes were turned towards Heaven,
and his hands were slightly raised in the attitude of prayer, the fatal
word “fire” was given, and he fell to the earth a mangled corpse.
There was still another actor in this bloody tragedy, who had to tax
his ingenuity to the utmost to select a part in which to out do, if
possible, the acts of atrocity committed by the others. This was Capt.
Adolph.
On the 23rd day of July, Capt. Adolph and his company with an
intermixture of the Vigilance mob, went to my mother‘s house—the
Hildebrand homestead—for the purpose of burning it up. The house was
two stories high, built of nice cut stone, and well finished within,
making it altogether one of the best houses in the county.
The soldiers proceeded to break down the picket fence, and to pitch it
into the house for kindling. They refused to let anything be taken out
of the house, being determined to burn up the furniture, clothing,
bedding, provisions, and everything else connected with it.
All things being now ready, the house was set on fire within, and
the flames spread rapidly from room to room, then through the upper
floor, and finally out through the roof. The house, with all the outer
building was soon wrapped in a sheet of fire.
My little brother Henry and an orphan boy about fourteen years of age,
whom my mother had hired to assist Henry in cultivating the farm, were
present at the conflagration and stood looking on in mute astonishment.
Esroger ordered brother Henry to leave, but whether he knew it was
their intention to shoot him after getting him a short distance from
the house, as was their custom, it is impossible for me to say.
Probably feeling an inward consciousness of never having committed an
act to which they could take exceptions, he did not think that they
would persist in making him go; so he remained and silently gazed at
the burning house, which was the only home he had ever known.
When ordered again to leave, he seemed to be stupefied with wonder at
the enormity of the scene before him. Franklin Murphy being present
told him it was best to leave; so he mounted his horse and started,
but before he got two hundred yards from the house, he was shot and he
dropped dead from the horse. Thus perished the poor innocent boy, who
could not be induced to believe that the men were base enough to kill
him, innocent and inoffensive as he was. But alas! how greatly was he
mistaken in them!
They next burned the large frame barn, also the different cribs and
stables on the premises; then taking the orphan boy as a prisoner they
left.
Some neighbors, a few days afterwards found the body of my little
brother and buried him.
This was the crowning act of Federal barbarity toward me and the
Hildebrand family, instigated by the low cunning of the infamous
Vigilance mob.
I make no apology to mankind for my acts of retaliation; I make no
whining appeal to the world for sympathy. I sought revenge and I found
it; the key of hell was not suffered to rust in the lock while I was on
the war path.
I pity the poor miserable, sniveling creature who would tamely have
submitted to it all.
Such a man would be so low in the scale of human conception; so far
beneath the lowest grade of humanity, that the head even of an Indian
would grow dizzy in looking down upon him.