JAMES HARVEY HILDRETH:--At the time Rev. Mr. Porter gave me his recollections connected with the "sudden change," he told me that some years later he met a man in DeWitt county, by the name of Hildreth, who was crippled in his hands and feet. He said Mr. Hildreth informed him that it had been caused by his being caught away from shelter at the time of the "sudden change." Mr. Hildreth then gave him a detailed account of his sufferings and experience, which Mr. Porter gave to me from memory. This made such an impression on my mind that I was anxious to know more of the incident. In the course of my travels over the county, I was at the house of Mrs. Thomas J. Turley. See the Turley and Trotter names. How the subject came up I do not remember, but I learned from Mrs. Turley that Mr. Hildreth was her cousin. She gave me additional information, and referred me to another cousin--of herself and Mr. Hildreth--Mr. Moses Kenny, of Kenny, Logan county. I deferred writing to that gentleman until I was drawing my work to a close, and when I did so, was answered by Mr. John Kenny, of the same place, who informed me that his brother Moses was dead. Mr. John Kenny answered all my inquiries, and referred me to Mr. A. L. Barnett, of Clinton, DeWitt county. He, also, kindly responded. All the parties consulted bear the very highest character for truthfulness. It is from this mass of information that I give the following account of the case. Although the particular event I am about to relate did not occur in this county, it illustrates an atmospheric phenomena that affected this entire region of country, and was so remakable that the like of it is not on record, nor known by any person now living, and it is to be hoped that it may never be known again. It is to be regretted that there is no scientific knowledge on record of the event. The country was so new, and the settlers of a class generally of limited education, so much so that I have been unable to learn of a family in the county who owned a thermometer at the time. But now to the subject.

James H. Hildreth was born about 1812, in Bourbon county, Ky. He came to Illinois about 1833 or '4, and settled on Vermilion river, near Georgetown, Vermilion county, and engaged in cattle trading. Mr. Hildreth, then twenty-four or twenty-five years of age, was a very stout and rugged young man. He left home on the nineteenth of December, 1836, in company with another young man by the name of Frame, intending to go to Chicago, both on horseback. On the second day out, December 20th, they entered the border of a large prairie, and the next timber was many miles distant, on Hickory creek, a tributary of Iroquois river, and now in Iroquois county. It rained all the forenoon, and the earth was covered with water. They encountered a slough containing so much water they did not like to attempt passing through it. In order to head the slough they rode some miles in a northeast direction, and having crossed it, turned northwest to regain their course. That was about the middle of the afternoon. It suddenly ceased raining and the cold wave came in all its fury from the northwest, striking them square in the face. They were then out of sight of any human habitation, and their horses became absolutely unmanageable, and drifted with the wind, or across it, until dark closed in upon them. How long they were discussing what to do is not stated, but they finally agreed to kill each the others horse. They dismounted and Hildreth killed Frame's horse. They took out the entrails, and both crawled into the carcass as far as they could, and lay there, as near as Hildreth could judge, until about midnight. The animal heat from the carcass having become exhausted, they crawled out, intending that Frame should kill Hildreth's horse, and both crawl into it. Just then the one having the knife dropped it, and it being dark, they were unable to find it. Being thus foiled in their purpose, they both huddled about the living horse as best they could, until about four o'clock in the morning. Frame by that time was so benumbed with the cold that he became sleepy, and notwithstanding Hildreth used every exertion to keep him up, he sank down in a sleep from which he never awakened.

The feelings of Hildreth at this juncture can only be left to the imagination. He managed, by jumping about, to keep from freezing until daylight, when he got on his horse and started in search of shelter. In mounting he dropped his hat, and was afraid to get off, fearing he would never be able to mount again. Thus, bare headed, he wandered about for some time, until he reached the bank of a stream, supposed to be Vermilion river. Seeing a house on the opposite shore, he hallooed as best he could until he attracted the attention of the man, who, after learning what he wanted, said he could not assist him. A canoe was lying at the opposite shore, but he affected to be afraid of the running ice. Hildreth then offered him a large price if he would cut a tree and let it fall over the stream so that he could cross. The man still refused, and directed Hildreth to a grove which he said was a mile distant, where he would find a house. He went, but it was five miles, and the house proved to be a deserted cabin. He returned to the river opposite the house, called again for help, and was refused. He then dismounted, crawled to the bank, and found that the ice had closed and was sufficiently strong to bear him, and he crawled over. Arriving at the fence, the brutal owner of the place refused to help him, and he tumbled over it, and crawling in the house, laid down near the fire. Hildreth lay and begged for assistance, and when the man would have relented and done something, his wife restrained him. The frozen man lay there until four o'clock that afternoon, when some hog drovers came along and moved him to another house, where he was properly cared for. The name of the inhuman wretch was Benjamin Russ. After learning of his inhumanity, a movement was made to punish him, but he fled. Mr. Hildreth always expressed the belief that his offering to pay liberally for cutting a tree across the river, led them to think that he had a large amount of money, and that if, by their neglect, he perished, they could obtain it. Such a being was very rare among the early settlers of central Illinois, who were remarkable for their readiness to divide their comforts with all new comers, and especially those who were in affliction.

Mr. Hildreth met with a heavy loss, financially, by his failure to go to Chicago. He was conveyed back to the house of his brother in Vermilion county, where all the toes were taken from both feet, and the bones of all his fingers, except one joint of the thumb on his right hand, which enabled him to hold a pen or a drover's whip. Soon after recovering sufficiently to enable him to travel, he removed to DeWitt county, where he continued trading in cattle. He was married, April 7, 1847, in DeWitt county, to Adaline Hall. His left foot never healed entirely, and nearly twenty-two years after his misfortune, it became alarming, and he had the leg amputated below the knee. It soon healed, but his lungs, already diseased, caused his death about the middle of June, 1858, near Mt. Pulaski, Illinois.

He has three children now living. Henry resides near Chesnut, Logan county. John lives in Logan county, near Kenny, DeWitt county. His daughter Sarah married William Weedman, and resides near Farmer City. Mrs. Adaline Hildreth married Harrison Meacham, and resides near Clinton, DeWitt county, Illinois.

Notwithstanding his great calamity, James H. Hildreth was a useful man in the community where he lived. Most men would have given up in despair, and become a charge upon their friends; but he was active and energetic, and continued in the buslness of a farmer and stock dealer until he was physically unable to do more.