Trip with Burlap and Cato.—Killed a Spy near Bloomfield.—Visits
his Mother on Dry Creek.—Interview with his Uncle.—Sees the
burning of the homestead at a distance.
As yet, I had heard nothing about the atrocities committed against the
remaining members of the Hildebrand family; but in order to stir up
my old enemies in that quarter, I selected two good men, John Burlap
and James Cato, to accompany me in another excursion to St. Francois
county, Missouri.
They, too, had been badly treated at the outbreak of the war, and
had several grievances to redress, for which purpose I promised them
my future aid. We procured Federal uniforms, and started late in the
afternoon of July 13th, 1862; but on arriving at St. Francis river, we
found it out of its banks from the heavy rains that had fallen the day
previous.
My comrades were rather reluctant about venturing into the turbid
stream amid the floating driftwood; but I had ever been impressed with
the truth of the old adage, that it was “bad luck to turn back.” I
plunged my horse into the stream and made the opposite shore without
much difficulty. I was followed by Burlap and Cato, who got across
safely, but were somewhat scratched by the driftwood. We built a fire,
dried our clothes, took a “snort” from our black bottle, and camped
until morning.
Nothing of interest occurred until we reached the vicinity of
Bloomfield, in Stoddard county, Missouri, when we met a man in
citizen‘s dress, whom we accosted in a very familiar manner, asking him
if there were any Rebels in that vicinity. He stated that there was a
party of Rebels in Bloomfield, and that we had better make our way back
to Greenville to the command, otherwise we would be sure to fall into
their hands. He stated that he had been with them all day, pretending
that he wanted to enlist; that he had learned all about their plans,
and thought that about to-morrow night they would all be taken in. I
inquired if they had not suspicioned him as a spy? He answered that
they had not; that he had completely deceived them. I then asked him if
he did not want to ride behind me and my companions, by turns, until
we reached Greenville? He signified his assent by springing up behind
me. I let him ride about two miles, but not exactly in the direction of
Greenville, for I told him that I was aiming to strike a certain cross
road, which seemed to satisfy his mind. He had much to tell us about
his exploits as a spy, and that he had learned the names of all the
Rebels in Greenville and Fredericktown. By this time we had enough. I
told him I was Sam Hildebrand, knocked him off my horse, and then shot
him.
I felt no compunction of conscience for having ended the days of such a
scoundrel. A little notch underneath the stock of old “Kill-devil” was
made, to indicate the probability that he would fail to report.
On the rest of our trip we traveled altogether in the night, and
avoided the commission of any act that would be likely to create a
disturbance. We arrived safely at the house of my brother-in-law, on
Flat river, who lives within ten miles of the Hildebrand homestead.
Here, for the first time, I heard of the murder of my brother
Washington, also that of my uncle, John Roan. Mother‘s house had not
yet been burned, but she had been peremptorily driven from it, and had
sought refuge with her brother, in Jefferson county. The country was
full of soldiers, and the Vigilance mob were in their glory. Their
deeds would blacken the name of John A. Murrel, the great land pirate
of America, for he never robbed a lady, nor took the bread from orphan
children; while they unblushingly did both.
On learning these particulars, I determined to go to Dry Creek for
the purpose of seeing my mother, although the soldiers were scouring
the country in every direction for fifty miles for my destruction. We
started at night, but having to travel a circuitous route, daylight
overtook us when within six miles of my uncle‘s. We made a circuit, as
was my custom, around a hillside, and then camped in such a position
that we would be close to our pursuers for half an hour before they
could find us.
My companions took a nap while I kept watch. They had not been asleep
long before I discovered a party of men winding their way slowly in the
semi-circle we had made. There were ten of them, all dressed in Federal
uniform. I awakened my companions, and they took a peep at them as they
were slowly tracking us, at a distance of three hundred yards. We could
hardly refrain from making war upon them, the chances being so good for
game and a little fun, but my object was to see my mother; so we let
them pass on to the place where our tracks would lead them out of sight
for a few minutes, then we mounted our horses and rode on to another
ridge, making a circuit as before, and camping within a quarter of a
mile of our first ambush. On coming to that place, the Federals struck
off in another direction, probably finding our tracks a little too
fresh for their safety.
When night came, we made our way cautiously through the woods to within
a few hundred yards of my uncle‘s house. I dismounted, and leaving my
horse with my comrades, approached the house carefully, and climbed
upon a bee-gum to peep through the window. I discovered that there were
two strange men in the room, and I thought I got a glimpse of another
man around in a corner; but as I leaned a little to one side to get a
better view, my bee-gum tilted over, and I fell with a desperate crash
on a pile of clapboards. I got up in somewhat of a hurry, and, at about
three bounds, cleared the picket fence, and deposited myself in the
corner of the garden to await the result.
The noise, of course, aroused the inmates of the house, and they were
soon out with a light, but with no utensils of war except a short
double-barreled shot-gun, in the hands of my uncle. He inspected the
damage done to his favorite bee-stand, and breathed out some rough
threats against the villains who had attempted to steal his honey.
After ordering his family and the two strangers back into the house,
he posted himself in a fence corner about thirty yards off, for the
purpose of waging war against the offenders, should they attempt to
renew the attack.
The night not being very dark, I was fearful that if I attempted to
climb over the picket fence, the old man might pepper me with shot.
So I moved myself cautiously around to the back part of the garden,
and found an opening where a picket was missing. Through this aperture
I succeeded in squeezing myself, and then crawled around to the rail
fence where my uncle was, until I got within two panels of the old
man, when I ventured to call him by name, in a very low tone. He knew
my voice, and said: “Is that you, Sam?” My answer in the affirmative
brought him to where I was, and although the fence was between us, we
took a hearty shake of the hand through a crack. He told me that the
two men in the house were Union neighbors, who came over to tell him
that the trail of a band of bushwhackers had been discovered about six
miles from there, and that on to-morrow the whole country would be out
in search of them. He told me to go back until his neighbors took
their leave, and then to come in and see my mother, who was well, but
grieving continually about her son “Sam.”
I fell back to my companions, reported progress, and again took my
stand in the fence corner. As soon as the two neighbors were gone, my
uncle made known to my mother, and to his wife and daughters, the cause
of the disturbance; the younger members of the family having retired
early in the night, were all fast asleep. As soon as my uncle thought
it prudent to do so, he came out and invited us in. Although my mother
had received the news of my visit with a quiet composure, yet, on my
approach, she arose silently and started toward me with a firm step,
but in a moment she tottered and would have fallen, but I caught her in
my arms; she lay with her head on my bosom for some minutes, weeping
like a child, and I must confess that now, for the first time since I
was a boy, I could not restrain my tears. My mother broke the silence
by uttering, in broken sentences: “Oh, my dear son! Have you indeed
come to see your mother? I thought I would go down with sorrow to my
grave, as I never expected to see you again on earth!” How my manhood
and my iron will left me at that moment! How gladly would I have left
war and revenge to the beasts of the forest, and secreted myself in
some quiet corner of the earth, that there, with my mother and my
family, I might once more take delight in the sweet songs of birds, and
in the tranquil scenes of life, like those I enjoyed in my younger
days!
My mother became more tranquil, and we talked over matters with a great
deal of satisfaction; and my uncle, to divert our minds from a subject
too serious, occasionally poked fun at me, by accusing me of trying to
steal his bee-gum, in which he was joined by my two comrades. His two
daughters were flying around in the kitchen, and presently announced
a supper for us all. We enjoyed ourselves finely until two o‘clock in
the night, at which time we were compelled to leave, in order to secure
a safe retreat from the vigilant search to be made for us during the
following day.
On starting, we rode back on our old trail half a mile, to where we
had crossed a small creek, down which we rode, keeping all the time
in the water, for about three miles, to a public road leading south,
which we followed about six miles; then, on coming to a rocky place
where our horses would make no tracks, we left the road at right angles
and traveled in the woods about two miles; here we made a semi-circle
around a hill, and camped in a commanding position. My comrades did
picket duty while I slept nearly all day. At night we went to a friend
who lived near my old residence, and from him we learned that our
trail had been discovered on our way up, that the whole militia force,
composed almost exclusively of my old enemies, together with some Dutch
regulars, were quartered at Big River Mills; that the woods were being
constantly scoured; that each ford on Big river was guarded night and
day, and that they considered my escape impossible.
Before the approach of daylight we secreted our horses in a deep
ravine, covered with brush and briars, and then hid ourselves
underneath a shelving rock near the top of a high bluff, from which, at
a long distance, we had a view of my mother‘s house—the homestead of
the Hildebrand family. We remained here all day, during which time the
house was surrounded by soldiers, how many I could not tell, but they
seemed to fill the yard and the adjoining inclosures. Presently I saw a
dense column of smoke arise from the house, which told me too plainly
that the Vandals were burning up the home of my childhood.
The flames presently burst forth through the roof and lapped out their
long, fiery tongues at every window. The roof fell in, and all that
remained of that superb house was the blackened walls of massive stone.
Gladly would I have thrown myself among those Vandals, and fought them
while I had a drop of blood remaining; but it would have been madness,
for I would have been killed too soon, and my revenge would have been
ended, while my enemies would still live to enjoy their pillage.
Immediately after dark we returned to our horses and commenced our
retreat to Arkansas; but instead of going south we traveled west about
twenty miles, until we struck on a creek called Forche a‘ Renault, in
Washington county; then turning south, we traveled over the wild pine
hills west from Potosi, and camped in a secure place between Caledonia
and Webster.
We started on in the evening, and just before sunset made a raid
on a store, getting all we wanted, including several bottles of
“burst-head.” We traveled mostly in the night, followed Black river
down to Current river, crossed at Carter‘s Ferry, and made our way
safely to Green county, Arkansas.