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Dr. Charles Edward Nash was a longtime personal friend of two Confederate generals, and in 1868, he published his Biographical Sketches of Gen. Pat Cleburne and Gen. T. C. Hindman: together with humorous anecdotes and reminiscences of the late civil war. I'll let Wikipedia set up the background of the story of Tom, who, though belonging to Nash, was Pat's Best Friend:
"In 1856, Cleburne and Hindman were both wounded by gunshots during a street fight in Helena (Ark.) with members of the Know-Nothing Party following a debate. Cleburne was shot in the back, turned around and shot one of his attackers, killing him. The attackers hid until Cleburne collapsed on the street and then left. After the two recovered, they appeared before a grand jury to respond to all charges brought against them. They were exonerated and, afterward, went to Hindman's parents' house in Mississippi."
Dr. Nash takes it from there:
"One of the most thrilling scenes that occurred in this tragic affair was exemplified in our old dog Tom. Tom was a dog of remarkable instinct, if it can be called instinct. If affection carried to its greatest tension can be dignified by the word intelligence, then Tom was an intelligent dog, as the sequel will show.
"Cleburne was remarkably fond of Tom, always feeding him at meals, and giving him many friendly pats upon his head and learning him many tricks. Tom would make many trips to the store to accompany Cleburne to dinner. Tom reciprocated Cleburne's kindness with the intelligence and sympathy of a kind hearted woman.
"When Cleburne did not come to dinner Tom became restless, and going to the store did not find him Returning home, my wife offered him his dinner, but he refused to eat, and she said he seemed distressed and anxious. The next day when the servant brought my meal to me Tom followed him, and when he came up the steps, and saw Cleburne Iying on the bed, he ran with all his might to him, but Cleburne was too sick to notice him. He licked his hand, and his eyes expressed as much sorrow as did that of his friends. I did not drive him away until I thought he was worrying Cleburne. He stood upon his hind legs, with his fore paws resting on the side of the bed, with his eyes intently fixed on the object of his love.
"When I thought Tom had been there long enough I released his paws and tried to get him down stairs, but he refused to go, and crawled under the bed. I was afraid he would get to whining and disturb Cleburne, so I caught him by the neck and pulled him out from under the bed. I saw that Tom would not go unless violent means were used. Major Thompson, who was then in the room, said, 'Doctor, let him alone he wants to stay with Cleburne.'
"I did not further disturb Tom, and he remained in the room night and day, every once in a while coming out from under the bed, and licking the hands of his best friend and then returning to his post. I don't think he ate, drank or slept until Cleburne was able to notice him, which was for many days. When Cleburne noticed him he feebly raised his hand, and putting it on his head uttered in few trembling words, 'Tom, I knew you would come when you heard of it,' and then he let his hand rest for awhile; then taking it off of his head and drawing it to his side to rest, fell asleep. Tom slided easily and slowly from the bed, and went under it.
"Tom remained in the room until Cleburne was able to go to his first meal. He followed him home, and was content to remain there.
"In about two years after Tom died; and Cleburne had him a neat coffin made, and he was buried in the front yard of the writer's residence. Cleburne with his own hands put a head plank to his grave, with his name, place of birth, date of same, and place of death, with this epitaph:
"In 1856, Cleburne and Hindman were both wounded by gunshots during a street fight in Helena (Ark.) with members of the Know-Nothing Party following a debate. Cleburne was shot in the back, turned around and shot one of his attackers, killing him. The attackers hid until Cleburne collapsed on the street and then left. After the two recovered, they appeared before a grand jury to respond to all charges brought against them. They were exonerated and, afterward, went to Hindman's parents' house in Mississippi."
Dr. Nash takes it from there:
"One of the most thrilling scenes that occurred in this tragic affair was exemplified in our old dog Tom. Tom was a dog of remarkable instinct, if it can be called instinct. If affection carried to its greatest tension can be dignified by the word intelligence, then Tom was an intelligent dog, as the sequel will show.
"Cleburne was remarkably fond of Tom, always feeding him at meals, and giving him many friendly pats upon his head and learning him many tricks. Tom would make many trips to the store to accompany Cleburne to dinner. Tom reciprocated Cleburne's kindness with the intelligence and sympathy of a kind hearted woman.
"When Cleburne did not come to dinner Tom became restless, and going to the store did not find him Returning home, my wife offered him his dinner, but he refused to eat, and she said he seemed distressed and anxious. The next day when the servant brought my meal to me Tom followed him, and when he came up the steps, and saw Cleburne Iying on the bed, he ran with all his might to him, but Cleburne was too sick to notice him. He licked his hand, and his eyes expressed as much sorrow as did that of his friends. I did not drive him away until I thought he was worrying Cleburne. He stood upon his hind legs, with his fore paws resting on the side of the bed, with his eyes intently fixed on the object of his love.
"When I thought Tom had been there long enough I released his paws and tried to get him down stairs, but he refused to go, and crawled under the bed. I was afraid he would get to whining and disturb Cleburne, so I caught him by the neck and pulled him out from under the bed. I saw that Tom would not go unless violent means were used. Major Thompson, who was then in the room, said, 'Doctor, let him alone he wants to stay with Cleburne.'
"I did not further disturb Tom, and he remained in the room night and day, every once in a while coming out from under the bed, and licking the hands of his best friend and then returning to his post. I don't think he ate, drank or slept until Cleburne was able to notice him, which was for many days. When Cleburne noticed him he feebly raised his hand, and putting it on his head uttered in few trembling words, 'Tom, I knew you would come when you heard of it,' and then he let his hand rest for awhile; then taking it off of his head and drawing it to his side to rest, fell asleep. Tom slided easily and slowly from the bed, and went under it.
"Tom remained in the room until Cleburne was able to go to his first meal. He followed him home, and was content to remain there.
"In about two years after Tom died; and Cleburne had him a neat coffin made, and he was buried in the front yard of the writer's residence. Cleburne with his own hands put a head plank to his grave, with his name, place of birth, date of same, and place of death, with this epitaph:
"Here lies Tom,
My faithful friend;
His life is spent,
And he's come to his end."
My faithful friend;
His life is spent,
And he's come to his end."
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