Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 September 1879 — A Brave Old Horse. [ARTICLE]

A Brave Old Horse.

La Porte Chronicle, He is dead. Poor old Cbicamauga has gone to join his comrades. “He sleeps his last sleep He has fought his last battle, No souml can awake him to glory again.” The battle-scarred veterau has been led to his final resting place at last. Time, the merciless, all-conquering destroyer, makes no distinction between the humble beast of burden who plods his weary way along, and the gailycaparisoned steed who carries his master to the battle front and defies the bullet and the bayonet. Horse and rider alike go dbWts before his deadly onslaughts. We are writing of General Gleason’s black gelding, which carried him safely through the war. It appears that, while iu pasture Friday night, he broke his right fore leg at the shoulder {oint. How he did it will never be mown. As there was another animal iu the pasture it is thought the horses may have been playing, and that the. accident was the result 'of a sportful Rick. At auy rate the noble horse was thoroughly disabled, and it was thought best to relieve him of his sufferings. Accordingly, on Saturday afternoon, he was shot. He was purchased seventeen years ago of a man named Burhans. General Gleason took him to the war, and, at the bldody battle of Chicamauga, the horse received two balls in his body producing five wounds. One of the balls struck the jaw bone and lodged in his neck. He was also shot in the thigh. Want of proper care and feed during the seige of Chattanooga endangered the animal’s existence,and, for sometime, his life was despaired of, but he survived and brought his owner and rider safely home. For his gallant behavior iu the great battle mentioned above General Gleason named his horse Cbicamauga,and worthy was he of the title, as every living member of the 87th Indiana volunteers will cheerfully testify. The writer well remembers how Cbicamauga stood in the battle front on the memorable 20th of September, 1863, and faced the rebel colors, meeting, unflinchingly, the enemy,s mnrderous fire as it fairly blazed into our eyes. Had he been a coward, he might easily have severed the slender rein by which he was held, but his record that day read: “Went into the struggle with the regiment and retired only when the army retired.” Heroic Chicamauga! We cannot forget you Mot while patriotism exists and bravery is rewarded. Our own wounds will remind us of yours. The inscriptions on our well-worn banners will revive memories of you, and when >we meet iu reunion, to drink once shore from the same canteen, and fight our battles again, in song and speech, we shall sing your praise and tell, with words of glowing eloquence, how you brought our gallant leader from the Ohio to the sea. Chicamauga was 24 years old at his death. He lies buried in his master’s yard.