Interview with Gen. Jeff. Thompson.—Receives a Major‘s Commission.—Interview with Captain Bolin.—Joins the “Bushwhacking Department.”
Captain Bolin with most of his forces were somewhere in the vicinity of Bloomfield, Missouri, and as I was anxious to identify myself with the army, I got the use of a horse as soon as I was able to ride, and in company with several others proceeded across the swampy country east of the St. Francis river, for the purpose of joining General Jeff. Thompson. I reached his headquarters in safety, and stayed about camp, frequently meeting acquaintances from Missouri and occasionally getting news from home. As soon as I could gain admission to the General‘s headquarters I did so, and he received me very kindly. He listened very attentively to me as I proceeded to state my case to him—how my brother had been murdered, how I had barely escaped the same fate, and how I had finally been driven from the country.
General Thompson reflected a few moments, then seizing a pen he rapidly wrote off a few lines and handing it to me he said, “here, I give you a Major‘s commission; go where you please, take what men you can pick up, fight on your own hook, and report to me every six months.” I took the paper and crammed it down into my pantaloon‘s pocket and walked out. I could not read my commission, but I was determined to ask no one to read it for me, for that would be rather degrading to my new honor.
I retired a little distance from camp and taking my seat on an old cypress log, I reflected how the name of “Major Sam Hildebrand” would look in history. I did not feel comfortable over the new and very unexpected position in which I had been placed. I knew nothing of military tactics; I was not certain whether a Major held command over a General or whether he was merely a bottle washer under a Captain. I determined that if the latter was the case, that I would return to Green county and serve under Captain Bolin.
As I had no money with which to buy shoulder-straps, I determined to fight without them. I was rather scarce of money just at that time; if steamboats were selling at a dollar a piece, I did not have money enough to buy a canoe paddle. I stayed in camp, however, several days taking lessons, and hearing the tales of blood and pillage from the scouts as they came in from various directions.
By this time my wound felt somewhat easier, so I mounted my horse and made my way back to Green county, and arrived safely at Captain Bolin‘s headquarters. The Captain was at home, and I immediately presented myself before him. He said he had heard of me from one of his scouts, and was highly gratified that one of his men had seen proper to have me conveyed to his headquarters.
“I presume,” said he, “that you have been to the headquarters of General Jeff. Thompson. Did you see the ‘Old Swamp Fox?‘”
“I did.”
“What did he do for you?”
Here I pulled my commission from my pocket, that now looked more like a piece of gunwadding than anything else, and handed it to the Captain.