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.