Put in a crop.—Took another trip to Missouri with six
men.—Surrounded in a tobacco barn.—Killed two men in
escaping.—Killed Wammack for informing on him.—Captures some
Federals.—and releases them on conditions.—Went to Big River
Mills.—Robbed Highley‘s and Bean‘s stores.
Having succeeded in getting my family to Green county, Arkansas, I
settled on a piece of land whose owner had left for parts unknown,
intending to hold the same until the owner should return. During the
month of April, 1863, I was an “honest farmer,” and by the 10th day of
May I finished planting a field of corn, while at the same time my wife
put in a large garden.
At this occupation I enjoyed myself very well for a while; I got some
chickens, a few pigs, and a milch cow, so that my family could get
along without materially interfering with my main object in life—that
of killing my enemies.
The boys were now anxious to make another trip to Missouri; so I took
six men and started for Castor creek, in Madison county, after some
notorious scamps who had been giving us trouble on previous trips,
by putting the Federals on our trail, besides the constant annoyance
they gave Southern citizens in that country, by reporting them to the
Federals.
We passed west of Bloomfield through the Southern part of Madison
county, arriving in the neighborhood about daylight on the morning of
the fourth day from home, secreted our horses, leaving three men to
guard them, while myself and the others proceeded to spy out the men
for whom we had come in search. We did not succeed in finding any of
them, and after returning to our camp in the woods at sunset, we went
to an old friend‘s about three miles distant, where we could get a
night‘s sleep, and something to eat for ourselves and horses.
On arriving, our old friend received us kindly, but told us that as
he was not well we would be under the necessity of taking care of our
own horses, which we were very willing to do. After supper we tied
our horses in a neighboring thicket; but as the weather was rather
inclement, we repaired to an old tobacco barn for shelter; it was about
one hundred yards from the woods on one side, and about two hundred
on the other. Here we slept soundly, keeping one man on watch all the
time, but as we had not slept more than one hour in each twenty-four
since starting, our sentinel fell asleep. In the morning I went out
to take a peep at the weather, and was saluted by a shot that struck
a board just above my head. I sprang into the barn, raised the alarm,
and took a peep at the position of our enemies. They were about thirty
strong, and had completely surrounded the barn, posting themselves
behind stumps and old trees, but at a distance of about one hundred and
fifty yards.
The extent of their circle made their lines very weak, and perceiving
that they were much the strongest in front of the barn, I ordered my
men to remove the underpinning from one place in the rear of the house.
We crept through this aperture, and lay on the ground at the back of
the building, being protected from observation by a pile of rubbish. I
proposed taking the lead, and directed my men to follow in a straight
line, but to keep twenty or thirty feet apart. I arose and started at
full speed; but before I got fifty yards, all the Federals who were in
sight of me, fired off their guns; yet I was not killed, but felt a
stinging sensation on the point of my shoulder, which afterwards proved
to be a slight abrasion, caused by a musket ball. On reaching the line,
I shot the two men with my revolver who were guarding that point,
without making the least halt; but I could not help feeling a thrill of
pity for them and wished that they were again alive and on my side, for
they were brave men and faced the music nobly, but missed their aim.
My men followed me through to the woods unhurt, save one poor fellow,
who was pierced by a musket ball just as he reached the edge of the
timber.
On reaching the woods, which were very thick, we felt much relieved,
and were quite at home. We reached our horses, and fearing that the
Federals might find them, we mounted and rode back to give them a
little brush; but finding them all gone, we made our way around to our
friend in whose barn we had slept, but found that the Federals had
killed him, and had committed many other depredations about the place
before leaving. Our kind lady, who had thus so unexpectedly been made a
widow, was suffering the pangs of uncontrollable sorrow, but from her
broken sentences we learned that a citizen by the name of Wammack was
with the soldiers, and was probably the informant at whose instigation
the whole tragedy had been brought about, and that as the soldiers left
in the direction of Fredericktown, he took the road toward his house.
We concluded to try, and if possible, to get Wammack. I ordered three
of my men to take the horses out of the neighborhood, to travel over
ground where they would occasionally make plain tracks, until they
got to a certain creek, eight or ten miles off, then to turn back,
keeping in the creek some distance, and then to secrete themselves in
the bushes near the residence of one Mr. Honn. Our arrangements having
been completed, we separated; myself and my two men had not proceeded
far, keeping all the time near the road, before we discovered three
men coming from the direction of Wammack‘s house. When they were near
us, we hailed them, and leaving our guns, we stepped out into the road
where they were and inquired the way to Cape Girardeau. We told them
that we had obtained furloughs at Ironton the day before, and were on
our way to Illinois to see our families, but that a few miles back we
met some soldiers, who stated that they had got into a skirmish with
the bushwhackers and were going to Fredericktown to bring out the
whole force; so we concluded to hide in the woods until they returned.
They mistook us for Federal soldiers, sure enough, and one of them
related the whole circumstance in a very jubilant manner, stating that
he was with the soldiers at the time, that they had killed four of
the bushwhackers and the old Rebel who had harbored them, and that if
he had his way he would burn up the whole premises. I suggested that
we had better go to the main road and wait until the force came; but
he objected, for the reason that he wished to see who buried the dead
bushwhackers.
By this time I thought I could venture to ask him his name, and after
telling me that his name was Wammack, and that he was “all right,” he
made a motion to proceed, at which we drew our revolvers and told him
that he was a prisoner. The other two having answered a sign which
I made while talking to Wammack, I saw that _they_ were “all right”
instead of him. I told them that they could go, but requested them to
bury the dead, which they cheerfully agreed to do.
Just as this conversation ended, Wammack suddenly jerked out his
revolver and attempted to shoot one of my men and broke to run; the
movement was so sudden and so unexpected that he got nearly forty yards
before we succeeded in killing him.
We then left that part of the country and went to Wayne county; while
stopping there for supper at the house of an old Rebel, a young man
came in and stated that about five miles from there, on Lost creek, he
saw some Federals putting up for the night; on receiving this pleasing
information, we determined to go and take them “out of the wet,” as one
of my boys expressed it, and after feeding our horses and taking our
rations, we were soon on our way for that purpose.
We found the place without much difficulty, made our way to the house
and knocked at the door. The man of the house came, and in answer to
our questions, stated that there were five Federals sleeping in the
stable loft, and that their horses were in the stable. After telling
the old man who we were, and ordering him not to leave the house, we
proceeded to surround the stable, which stood in the middle of a lot
of perhaps about half an acre. Our positions having been taken, I set
fire to a hay stack that stood in the corner of the lot, nearly in
front of the stable door. When the hay blazed up, the light shone so
suddenly on the Federals that they sprang to their arms in a great
fright. I hailed them, demanding their surrender, and told them that I
was Sam Hildebrand, and that I and my twenty men had them completely in
our clutches, but that if they would surrender without firing a gun,
I would let them off on easy terms. To this they gladly acceded, and
coming down from the loft, they piled their arms in the lot. I ordered
two of my men to extinguish the fire that had caught in the fence, and
then proceeded to negotiate with our prisoners, which was done in a
friendly and satisfactory manner. Rough jokes were passed back and
forth with perfect freedom, and they repeated some of the many tales
of blood circulated in camps about me, in which I was represented as a
hero more daring and dreadful than “Jack the Giant Killer.”
At this time there were two of Capt. Bolin‘s men in prison at Ironton,
who had been captured while on a scout up Black river in Reynolds
county, Missouri; and as my prisoners belonged to the command stationed
at that place, I proposed to them that if they would pledge themselves
that by some means or other they would manage to let the two boys
escape, we would release them, and permit each one to retain his
private property. To this they agreed; they retained their pistols, but
gave up their guns and horses.
We all stayed until morning, took breakfast together with the old
man, who seemed highly pleased at the turn matters had taken, and
occasionally contributed to our fun by some of his timely jokes.
After breakfast we separated, the Federals making their way on foot,
carrying a pass from me, written by one of my men, to prevent any of
our boys from molesting them on their way, should they happen to fall
into their hands.
After a short consultation with my men, we concluded that it was about
time to make our enemies in St. Francois county pay their taxes to the
Southern Confederacy. On the evening of the last day of May, we rode
into the little town at Big River Mills, and made a haul on the store
of John B. Highley, but not being certain of his politics, we were
very light on him. We then went six miles further to John Bean‘s store
on Flat river, arriving there about 11 o‘clock in the night. We knew
him to be a strong Union man, and we knew also that one of his sons
belonged to the Big river mob. We supplied ourselves with such articles
as were needed by the families at Capt. Bolin‘s camp.
In a few days after our arrival in Green county, the two boys who had
been in prison at Ironton, came in, and related to us that the guards
who permitted them to escape, told them all about the contract they had
entered into with me. Those Federals deserve much credit for keeping
their word.