The Spectre of Death Rode the Land: A Southern Family Caught Up in the Union Invasion of Missouri, 1861-1865 by Lois Glass Webb
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

“The war in Southeast Missouri was not one of glorious battles fought and chronicled for future reveling historians. Nevertheless, brave men skirmished daily for their very existence, died for their cause and were just as dead as those fallen in glorious battles across the Mississippi…” This passage from Lois Glass Webb’s fictional novel The Spectre of Death Rode the Land could almost be the mission statement for this website where we try to view the war not as the ‘war in the east’ (obviously) but also look to the personal level of the people–from both sides–involved, their lives and sacrifices.

Whereas we at Civil War St. Louis try to maintain a neutrality in our presentation, expect no neutrality from this novel. The Spectre of Death Rode the Land is purely skewed toward the southern-leaning side, with the Union side and its participants being portrayed as purely evil. In a non-fiction history this would be cause to criticize the work, yet as this is a fictional novel this slant of the perspective is actually one of this work’s greatest strengths. This novel offers a strong exploration on the nature of the place and the time, and a view of the people who lived the events and how they thought.

The novel begins with sunshine and pleasantry. The coming conflict, and those engineering it, are remote, distant things hardly to be considered relevant. There’s a sense that St. Louis, with the critical events and people there, is a place too far removed from this peaceful, pastoral land to ever have an effect upon it. Yet as the story progresses, the sense of evil forces, and the inevitable failure of the deluded notion of ‘neutrality’, draw nearer and nearer. A dark storm serves as both the literal and figurative herald of the conflict; both impossible to avoid, drenching one and all. There is no escaping the war. There is no dodging its consequences. There is no way to avoid choosing sides, for a side will be assigned to the people no matter how they seek to avoid it. Across the length of Spectre of Death this sensation of the war drawing closer and closer until it is all around is very powerful and quite well done. One of the most affecting scenes has a young woman, who once walked openly in the sunshine thinking about boyfriends and frivolity, sneaking through the black woods and brush to milk their hidden cow. The ominous sense of danger she felt from every bush and shadow is visceral, indeed–all to protect a single cow whose milk might be all that separates them from starvation. Such is the view of the times this novel presents.

Throughout Spectre of Death are synopsis-like historical interludes to place outside events in relation to those involving the characters. These bits are well-written and appear well-researched. They’re a welcome addition to a novel of this type.

The individual characters, and their storylines, are less interesting than is the novel viewed as a whole canvas. The primary female characters tend to have romantic subplots that did not particularly interest me. In part this was because these women showed spectacularly bad taste in their choices of men, with scenes of brutality and rape becoming almost redundant. As the cast of characters is huge, no particular character jumps out as being the focal character of the novel. I would have liked to have seen more depth explored in fewer characters. Some of the most interesting scenes seemed somewhat short and shallow in their presentation as we didn’t really get deeply into that character’s point of view.

The first chapter was a chore to read and stopped me down several times. No fewer than seventeen characters were introduced in the first four pages alone, with mini-bios of each attached–human characters, that is, as several pigs were also introduced by name and history. It was overwhelming to the point where I almost expected a quiz at the end to see if I remembered each character’s name and story. But get past that and you’ll be rewarded.

Despite some flaws, The Spectre of Death Rode the Land is a worthwhile addition to the field.

Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand, Edited by Kirby Ross
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

“Hooray for Hildebrand,” the bandits at the Ste. Genevieve robbery (presumably the ultimately famous James-Younger gang) shouted as they rode out of town. That piece of history as much as anything secured Sam Hildebrand’s place in memory. If an outlaw would say “Hooray for Hildebrand” in 1873, I would say “Hooray for Kirby Ross” today for bringing the Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand back from obscurity, and working it into a splendid new, and eminently useful, form.

Sam Hildebrand came to fame—or infamy—during the bloody struggle for Missouri during the Civil War. He went from being a farmer raising a large family in south-eastern Missouri to becoming one of the most renowned of the Confederate bushwhackers. Hildebrand was sometimes compared to Rob Roy, sometimes vilified as a bloody murderer. He is a rare figure for many reasons, not the least of which is Hildebrand published an autobiography of his exploits.

Written in 1870, the illiterate Hildebrand dictated his story to two journalists. Shortly after its publication, Hildebrand was shot and killed, dying as violently as he had lived. His autobiography went from a brief surge of interest to fade into almost complete obscurity. For myself, I know how rare and difficult to obtain the Hildebrand account was. The nearest copy I could find was in a special collections over one hundred miles away. At that, even once acquired the 1870 edition of Sam Hildebrand’s autobiography would be at best an interesting historical novelty.

Here lies the great virtue of this edition of the Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand as edited by Kirby Ross—over one-third of this volume consists of Kirby Ross’s notations about the historical truth of Hildebrand’s words. The research and notes are nothing short of excellent. Far from being an historical novelty, the Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand is now a valuable addition to the history of the war in Missouri, in particular of the convoluted guerrilla warfare. No library of the Civil War in the Trans-Mississippi can now be considered complete without this volume.

Kirby Ross—with whom we, the editors of Civil War St. Louis website, have had the pleasure of working with for many years, hosting many of his fine articles—is a thorough, exacting researcher and historian. His work on the Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand shows this same high quality of work we’ve come to expect.

The Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand as edited by Kirby Ross consists of two reading experiences. The first is the unchanged narrative as told by Sam Hildebrand loaded with adventures, violence, rationalizations, excuses, myths and reality. It’s good reading. The second, equally enjoyable reading experience, is the extensive narrative notes written by Kirby Ross breaking down the tale into reality, confirming or denying Hildebrand’s claims. Thank you, Kirby Ross, for this superb research and writing!

This review of the Autobiography of Samuel S. Hildebrand is long overdue, but this book will be a timeless addition to the history of the Civil War in Missouri.

Highly recommended.

Guerrilla Season by Pat Hughes
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Season of light, season of darkness… this was 1863 in Clay County in northern Missouri. Boys hunted, swam, and played with their friends. They also planted crops and tended to their chores. It was all normal, pastoral, even, except at this time and in this place, nothing was normal. Everywhere and all the time lurked the omnipresent aura of danger behind the placid green of the woods and bushes.

The bushwhackers, guerrilla fighters for the Confederacy, hid in the woods, striking out at the occupying Federal forces. They were a deadly danger to any taking the Union side. To those taking the Southern side, the perils were as great, from the Federal soldiers and the Provost Marshal enforcing military law, often based on whim and spite. The only thing worse that being on the side of the Rebels or the Union was to be neutral.

In this tense setting author Pat Hughes tells the story of Matt Howard and his friend Jesse–yes, that’s future outlaw Jesse James–as teenaged boys dealing with the conflict of civil war in their own back yards, and their own friendship in the face of conflicting loyalties. Matt Howard is a wholly fictional character, a boy of fifteen trying to support his family after the death of his father. He struggles to keep neutrality between north and south at the behest of his northerner mother, yet his own leanings keep pulling him toward the rebels. His closest friend, Jesse, clearly favors the guerrillas–his brother, Frank “Buck” James, being one of the bushwhackers–and both boys realize it’s only a matter of time before Jesse, too, goes to the bush.

Author Pat Hughes creates a solid, believable character of teenaged Jesse James. In the character she brought to life, drawn from research into the scanty contemporary information available, one can see the traits that could lead the boy into becoming a outlaw and killer. Piously quoting the Bible one minute, Hughes then deftly lets us see the glint of the dangerous person Jesse would become. There might be historical room to quibble about the timeline and sequence of events (an issue addressed by Hughes in historical notes at the end), but the way Hughes portrays these critical events in young Jesse’s life at this time is so immensely logical and lends itself so well to the story’s and character’s development that any need for dispute I had was easily pushed aside. The setting and scenarios of 1863 Civil War Missouri appear very well researched and are believably and adeptly portrayed.

Fictional Matt was also a fully realized character who comes to embody the stresses at work on anyone in north-western Missouri during the Civil War. His struggle for neutrality is thwarted by everyone around him. His friend Jesse pulls him toward the Rebels, while Matt’s mother refuses to believe in his neutrality and in her efforts to keep him leaning toward the Union continually thrusts the label of Rebel upon him. The Federal authorities and their treatment of suspected southern-sympathizers do the most to push Matt toward the bushwhackers. So conflicted was Matt, and so well done was the portrayal of his choice between Union and Confederate that the author kept me wondering until the end which way he would go–and satisfied me with the ultimate outcome of his choice.

In the setting comes one of the most powerful elements of the novel. Author Pat Hughes created a setting in which the reader can become one with the surroundings, feeling the summer heat, hearing the leaves rustle in the trees, and smelling the rich earth. Yet the woods–the bush–that surrounds them becomes a character in itself. At times bright and welcoming, the bush contains always the hint of danger, becoming a darker more threatening thing as the story progresses. The forest becomes the representation of the conflict–always surrounding the people, unavoidable, inescapable, and filled with lethal unknowns.

The other characters serve the story well, with intriguing glimpses of Jesse’s mother, sister, and step-father. Matt’s mother and crippled older brother felt real and well thought-out.

The first few chapters start off a bit unevenly, with quite a bit of expository information as the author brings the readers up to speed on the situation. The point of view drifts a bit at this point, as well, but soon settles down into clear, enjoyable writing that drew me deeper into the story with each page.

Congratulations to Pat Hughes for a fine first novel in “Guerrilla Season.” It is a pleasure to recommend and I hope more by this author will follow.

Vengeance In My Heart: A Novel of the Civil War by David K. Moore
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Cover blurb:

In 1863, Confederate guerrillas raided Lawrence, Kansas, unleashing in turn a torrent of revenge on western Missouri by Kansans and Federal soldiers. The author tracked down dozens of eyewitness accounts of the raid and aftermath, from diaries, memoirs, interviews, newspapers, and articles. This is the first true and complete account of the Lawrence Raid, using only reported dialogue, written in a novelized form. All characters and events in this book are real. A prologue and epilogue are also provided for historical context.

Vengeance In My Heart is a book that lies somewhere between a fictional novel and a non-fiction historical account written in narrative style. Billed as a novel, the book nevertheless includes an interesting and well-written non-fiction prologue that sets the historical stage for the story of Quantrill’s raid on Lawrence, Kansas.

The novel portion begins with the Missouri guerrillas gathering to discuss and vote on the raid. The dialog is said by the author to be only that which was documented to be the things the people actually said. While historically intriguing, this tends to make the dialog somewhat more stilted-sounding than you’d normally expect to find in a novel. The book also diverts from standard novel expectations in that it focuses on no particular characters in their stories. Instead, the book is written in largely an omniscient point of view with little character development or exploration of the internal workings and motivations of the individuals.

The story follows through the entire trek to Lawrence, and the raid, in exacting detail through a series of vignettes. Through these scenes the author builds up a picture of the entire scenario and the events of that horrific day. The people of the town are the most clearly drawn as individuals–undoubtedly because the preponderance of accounts comes from this source–while the guerrillas often fade into nameless, faceless, drunken thugs.  The guerrillas would kill brutally, or spare with polite kindness, in a way that to the people of Lawrence struggled to fathom:

Such casual and random acts of unbelievable violence would be repeated over and over. The citizens were at wits end. One group would ride up and tell them they had nothing to worry about, only to be followed by a drunken gang totally unable to restrain themselves. A random act of kindness, such as a child giving William Gregg a rose, could spare the home and family. The wrong answer, or even no answer at all, would end in murder.

Though sometimes awkward in the writing, and not what you might expect of a standard fictional novel of the war, many scenes of Vengeance In My Heart stayed with me for quite some time after reading them, and gave a better overall picture of the events of these intense days in history. This book makes an interesting and worthwhile addition to the history of this region.

When the Heavens Fell: The Youngers in Stillwater Prison
and
The Great Cole Younger & Frank James Historical Wild West Show
by John Koblas
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Author John Koblas adds two new entries into the field of books on the James-Younger gang with “When the Heavens Fell: The Youngers in Stillwater Prison” and “The Great Cole Younger & Frank James Historical Wild West Show”, and both are fine additions.

When the Heavens Fell: The Youngers in Stillwater Prison

“Be true to your friends if the Heavens fall” was Cole Younger’s response to the question of who the two men were who escaped death or capture after the disastrous Northfield, Minnesota bank robbery attempt. Had he, or his brothers Jim and Bob, been willing to name Frank and Jesse James as the other two participants in the robbery they may have shortened the twenty-five year time they spent in prison in Stillwater, Minnesota. But they never named the James brothers and–for the Youngers–the heavens did fall upon them as they were committed to prison.

Koblas begins the book with the Youngers’ arraignment on charges of murder and robbery. From the gates of Stillwater prison, he backs up his story with a history of the area in which the prison stood, and of the prison, itself. I found this chapter to be exceedingly interesting, giving a flavor and depth to the setting in which the Youngers found themselves, and setting the scene for the state and people who controlled the Younger’s fate for the next twenty-five years and more. This historical context is one of the many valuable additions to the field of James-Younger research that has been missing before and which Koblas now provides.

Bob Younger died in prison in 1889, with his death and the attempts to free him before it covered in detail. Despite thirteen years having passed since the Northfield robbery, feelings still ran high in Minnesota concerning the imprisoned outlaws, and many notables, including those who were victims in the Northfield robbery bring forth their opinions on the attempts to raise sympathy for the dying outlaw. The book then follows the events in the Youngers’ lives in prison over the years and the numerous attempts to secure them a release by pardon or parole and the outrage and agreement each effort cause. The documentation and statements of those taking both sides of the pardon/parole issue is very well done and gives many intriguing looks at the stances taken and the long-lasting effects the Missouri outlaws attempted bank raid in Minnesota had.

As well as following the Youngers, Koblas also tracks the events in the lives of other important figures, particularly Frank James, and presents intriguing information suggesting Frank may have been the driving and monetary force behind Bronnaugh’s long-time campaign to free the Youngers. While not conclusive, this direction of research was intriguing and provocative. Another particularly interesting part was the possibility that James gang associate Bill Ryan may have been imprisoned in Stillwater under an alias.

There are a few points in the book where minor factual errors may have crept in. These errors usually seem to have come from reliance on other sources that are, themselves, of dubious accuracy (such as Carl W. Breihan’s books on the James and Youngers). One point I believe was in error was a story of Jim Younger’s troubles in Texas, a story which should have been about John Younger, the brother killed by Pinkertons several years before the Northfield robbery. These points tend to be in asides rather than in the primary research which appears to be impeccable.

Throughout, John Koblas keeps a steady pace of high quality writing. The book reads quickly and smoothly, continually drawing the reader forward in a very entertaining style. A huge amount of information in presented on each page, yet the author never becomes ponderous in the presentation. The book is, quite simply, a good read.

“When the Heavens Fell” is heavily illustrated with many pictures and photos you won’t find in other James-Younger books as the author scoured Minnesota archives, not just the typical Missouri collections.

The one notable failing of the book was the extremely abrupt ending. The story chopped off suddenly and at, what seemed at the time, an odd place–before the Younger’s actual release from prison, which was the moment the book had been building toward. The story, however, picks up seamlessly in:

The Great Cole Younger & Frank James Historical Wild West Show

What do you do when you’re an aging ex-outlaw with no money, no job skills, and parole restrictions placed upon you? If you’re Cole Younger, you bend those parole restrictions almost to the breaking point (while still trying to look poutingly innocent no matter how flagrant your behavior) and capitalize on your outlaw fame by running a Wild West show with another ex-outlaw, the notorious Frank James.

The story of the latter years of Cole Younger and Frank James that John Koblas tells in “The Great Cole Younger & Frank James Historical Wild West Show” is a fresh and wholly entertaining look at these two aging outlaws and how they dealt with their notoriety and their facade of sometimes sanctimonious innocence.

For those who have read Ted Yeatman’s excellent account of these years and of the Wild West show in “Frank and Jesse James: The Story Behind the Legend” this new book by John Koblas does not duplicate Yeatman’s work or account.

Koblas takes a different approach to the story, focusing on the people and personalities within the events. I was left with a wonderful sense of who Cole Younger and Frank James were at their essence, beyond the image of their outlaw myth, and their own publicly projected aura of innocence they maintained for decades. Koblas presented a Cole Younger and Frank James who were well-rounded individuals where one could see both the elements that made them two of the country’s most notorious outlaws and also two of the most successfully reformed outlaws. It was an amazingly deft handling of these two characters such as I’ve never seen done quite so well before.

The book is well-illustrated, with newspaper ads and pictures from their Wild West show from around the country.

As a pair, or individually, both “When the Heavens Fell: The Youngers in Stillwater Prison” and “The Great Cole Younger & Frank James Historical Wild West Show” by John Koblas are recommended and welcome additions to the field of James-Younger reading.

Blessed Are the Peacemakers by Joe W. Smith
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Joe W. Smith, author of “Blessed Are the Peacemakers” tackles the difficult subject of the bushwhacker war in the Ozark countryside of Arkansas near the Missouri-Arkansas border during the Civil War. He does this in a fiction novel with a blending of history and legend that reaches back to the very dawn of time.

“In the beginning…” the book begins with creation itself, a seemingly strange place to start a Civil War novel, yet as Smith draws together the threads of geological development, and human development, in the Ozarks he sets the stage for all later events. The first major character to whom we’re introduced is, of all things, a pack rat living in a silver-laden cave. This lowly pack rat, and its descendants, evolve into interesting, unique characters that keep reappearing until providing a vital role at the novel’s climax.

This is only the first of the book’s many, diverse characters whose lives and histories are traced back to their distant, ancestral pasts. Not shying away from controversial areas or characters, Smith follows the story of a maimed Confederate soldier with a ‘poor white trash’ past; a Zulu youth captured by slave traders and brought into bitterly resented slavery (historically unlikely but the author acknowledges that and makes it work); an American Indian who had been displaced from his Kentucky home by white settlers; slaveowners, kind and cruel; slaves who had been broken into submission and others who strove for freedom, some by joining the Confederates and some by joining the Unionists. He also brings in the bushwhackers whose background could be from any side and whose loyalties are often only to themselves, as well as the farmers—men, women, and children—struggling to survive amidst the killing and pillaging. In telling their individual stories, Smith creates an overall picture of the Ozark area, its people, how it came to be as it was during the war, and beyond with vignettes reaching into the present with descendents of many of these characters showing in some measure the far-reaching impact of the generations distant war.

The characters, regardless of the side they were on, were handled in a balanced, fair manner that is greatly to the author’s credit. The good guys weren’t all purely good, and the bad guys were seldom purely evil. Indeed, in keeping with the convoluted nature of war in this area, it is often difficult to tell exactly with which side any character’s sympathies lay. Survival became the rule for most, a thing unrelated to the grand political and social issues being fought over by the armies to the east.

The story, itself, was an interesting read that kept me up late several nights. Though sometimes puzzled by the direction the storytelling was taking, I always wanted to continue on to see where the author was leading me and how some seemingly odd sections would lead into the rest of the story (such as when the author managed to bring a centuries past Viking battle into the thread of one character’s past).

“Blessed Are the Peacemakers” is not small in scope though it ultimately focuses on a small area of the Ozarks. Interestingly, most of the violent action takes place off-screen, with the emphasis being on how the people cope with the aftereffects. This struck me oddly as the first battle scene was bypassed, yet as the story progressed this technique worked. Fights and battles are fleeting, their impact on the participants lasts.

Smith includes several historical figures, including Nathan Bedford Forrest and Wild Bill Hickock. Though his historical research seems to be sound, and is certainly far-reaching, there are a few errors that slip through. Most of these are relatively minor time-line errors involving the more famous of the Missouri bushwhacker/guerrillas—the James, Youngers, and Bloody Bill Anderson with the first two becoming famous far before they really did and the latter said to be dead several times before he really was. An historical notes section at the end—unusual, but appreciated, in a fiction novel—clarifies many areas as to what is documented history, what is legend, and what is the author’s own creation.

The writing sometimes lacks polish, with the point-of-view jumping from character to character without warning. The timeline of events is often confusing. There was also a tendency to use flashbacks without making it entirely clear when we reach present time again. Overall, however, the flavor of the writing style overcomes these technical writing issues.

This is to be a considered a recommended novel on its own merits but especially so for those interested in the Civil War in the Trans-Mississippi where good fiction is rare.

Recollection of Alexander H. Stephens: His Diary Kept When a Prisoner at Fort Warren, Boston Harbour 1865 by Alexander Hamilton Stephens
by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

This is the journal of Alexander Stephens, the Vice President of the Confederate States of America written immediately after the war. It is wonderful. Stephens is a very peculiar little fellow not at all in the mold of any other Civil War character. He’s a very good writer and, in this book, holds back nothing, not even strange little details of his daily hygiene (and I do mean strange).

Stephens was lonely, kept totally isolated from all human contact, and so turned to this journal to both entertain himself and to try to explain to himself and others what he thought of the war, the nation, the other participants of the rebellion, and any other thing that came to mind. There’s a tension to the writing, too, as he did not at that time know what his fate would be. He fully expected to be executed for his part in the Confederacy, a thought he didn’t find as disturbing as being kept in isolated imprisonment the rest of his life. Stephens is in no way a strong, stoic character. He reveals all his fears without sort of self-aggrandizement.

Civil war historian or casual history reader will enjoy this look at a somewhat unknown, but important, participant in the American Civil War.

Story of Cole Younger: By Himself by Cole Younger
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Cole Younger’s autobiography doesn’t answer all the questions. It creates more. For one thing, Cole Younger claims that the Northfield robbery, that landed him in prison for 25 years, was his first and only robbery. This makes him either one of the world’s most misunderstood innocents, or one of its most blatant liars.

Most authors and historians come down on the ‘liar’ side of the argument and, bearing in mind Younger was an admitted and convicted criminal, that’s not unreasonable. However, I’m inclined to think there’s more truth in his tale than is generally acknowledged. Most people just don’t lie outright in autobiographies–they hedge and recolor and leave things out to make themselves look better. Reading Cole Younger’s book, you can see him doing all these things, as well as avoiding outright statements of his own in favor of quoting other people who had favorable things to say about him, or quoting old statements of innocence he had made. Take the book for what it’s worth and make your own judgments.

As to the writing itself… Cole Younger is no writer. The book is uneven and choppy, but parts are quite good. He has some moments of actually inspired prose. He includes the text of a lecture he gave in his later days at the end and it’s quite good. Some of his war tales are well-told, but a bit scanty on details. He assumes you know the general stories and is often focusing on quelling lies, myths, and fabrications that had grown up around his story. In many of these cases he’s probably being quite honest.

Though dubious history, this book is a valuable and intriguing look at the person and personality behind the historical figure.

Cole Younger: Last of the Great Outlaws by Homer Croy
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule for Civil War St. Louis

Homer Croy is a first-rate storyteller in a very casual, homey sort of way. He writes this book about Cole Younger’s life in such a way that you feel as though you’re sitting around the fire with Homer while he tells the tale. It’s very entertaining reading with many good touches of humor and wry comments throughout.

As history…First of all, he doesn’t footnote in the traditional way but does include notes about each chapter explaining his sources. It’s an informal, rather than scholarly, style. His research was extensive and tended toward finding people who could give him first-hand accounts, or as near to first-hand as possible family stories, along with contemporary newspaper accounts. In this way he hunts down the sources of many of the myths, legends, and rumors surrounding Cole Younger’s life and career. Is he right about every particular and conclusion? I don’t know. I’d say to read this book hand-in-hand with one of the more recent high-quality works to compare versions of events.

Croy is very up-front with his opinions, something I appreciated. The author of such a book is the one who did the research, has a feel for the subject even in areas where hard data may be lacking, and I want to hear their opinion on disputed matters. Some history authors won’t go out on that limb but Homer Croy has no such problem. He usually is clear on what is his opinion and what he has some evidence on, but he also recreates some scenes and conversations for which there could not possibly be any witnesses. So bear in mind there is an element of fictional novelization to the story.

Don’t miss the index–most entertaining index I’ve ever read.