From the Hempstead Inquirer, Hempstead, L.I.
Saturday, January 17, 1863
"A Dog On The
Battle Field"
The following is related of a dog that belonged to one of
the companies of the 8th Regiment Illinois Volunteers. He, at an early age,
became a great favorite of the regiment…not on account of his beauty, for he is
a homely little fellow, but be reason of the loving and kind disposition
manifested toward all into whose society he was permitted to come.
When this regiment left Bird's Point on their expedition up
the Tennessee, this dog
"Marshall" … for that is his name… left with them. Wherever the
regiment moved… in pitching or in striking tents, on drill or in preparing
meals, on a march or on board transports, from one point to another…Marshall
was a constant attendant.
Marshall, after supper, would go the rounds of each company
to see if everything was right, and would then come to his master's tent and
quietly lie down for the night.
During the early part of the battle, at the siege of Fort
Donelson, he seemed very much excited by what was passing around him, and would
run from point to point, apparently in the deepest anxiety, as it to inquire
what all the noise meant.
During the nights of Thursday and Friday, when the regiment
slept on their arms, amid rain, snow and ice, this little creature could not
sleep or be quiet, because those whom he loved were suffering. His sympathetic
nature seemed in perfect accord with the feelings which, during the stirring
scenes, filled every human breast.
On Saturday morning, when the battle was at its fiercest
point…a time when grape, canister, shells, Minnie balls, and buckshot filled
the air with their sharp, quick, hissing, whizzing, fearful sound, and when the
ranks on both sides were terribly cut down, our little dog, either frightened
by some passing cannon ball or by the bursting of a shell nearby, took himself
during the day away from the scene. At a very late hour, when the firing
ceased, Marshall made his appearance in great joy.
Going hastily the rounds of the regiment to see if all was
well, he came back to his master's tent very uneasy and much troubled about
something. Not finding any relief in his home tent, round the regiment he again
ran, and returned as before, excited and
in trouble. But without any stay there, off he ran again, and this time to the
battle-field. There he walked among the wounded, dying and dead, to find the
object of his search.
Strangers, whether in other regiments or in the ranks of the
enemy, received no attention from the dog, intent upon finding the object of
his search.
In his faithful search for such among the many wounded and
slain lying there, little Marshall found the body of Captain W., of Company I,
wounded in the left side by the fragments of a bursting shell. It was a fearful
wound, rendering the Captain completely helpless…unable even to move a limb,
though not depriving him of life, or rendering him insensible to his condition.
Captain W. noticed the approach of the dog, just as the
shades of evening was gathering around him. He thought if a harbinger of
good…evidence of the coming of someone to removed him from that sad scene of
agony and suffering, where, by a sad, oversight, he had lain from 10 A.M. until
that time.
But the dog only came to keep vigil with him during that
long, cold night.
Seemingly to comprehend the sufferings of the one whom he
loved, this sympathetic little creature would caress the wounded Captain in
very way he could…now lying down close beside him, now roused up again by the
groans of the suffering soldier, and then in a most affectionate manner,
lapping his hands as if we would soothe and comfort him in such an hour. In
this way and in such a battle-field vigil, our faithful dog passed the night
with the wounded Captain.
In the morning, when his master was removed to the hospital,
and his wound was cared for, the little dog who had been his only companion
during the past night, sought again the regiment, and resumed his accustomed
quiet habits.
Such is the fidelity of a dog.
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