The surgeon told the captain, aside, that his leg was shattered by a large piece of shell, which was imbedded in the bone; that amputation would be necessary, and he feared the wound was mortal.  “But,” he added, “he has been so intent upon the safe delivery of that apron into your hands as to seem utterly unconscious of his wound.”

After parting with his flag the brave boy sank rapidly.  He was tenderly carried by his comrades back to Hagerstown, where a hospital had been established, and his leg amputated.  The next morning his captain found him pale and haggard from suffering.  By his side was a bouquet of flowers, placed by some kind friend, which seemed to cheer him much.  The third day afterward he died, and was buried in a strange land, by strangers’ hands, without a stone to mark the place where he sleeps.

Thus ended the mortal career of this gallant youth, who had scarcely seen sixty days’ service; but though he lies in an unknown grave, he has left behind a name which should outlast the most costly obelisk that wealth or fame can erect.  Gentle as a woman, yet perfectly fearless in the discharge of his duty, so sacred did he deem the trust confided to him that he forgot even his own terrible sufferings while defending it.  Such names as this it is our duty to rescue from oblivion, and to write on the page of history, where the children of our common country may learn from them lessons of virtue and self-sacrifice.  In his character and death he was not isolated from many of his comrades:  he was but a type of many men, young and old, whose devotion to what is known as the “lost cause” made them heroes in the fullest acceptation of the term, flinching from neither suffering nor death itself if coming to them in the line of duty.

CHAPTER IV.

BRAVERY HONORED BY A FOE.

The following story was written out for me by Eddie Souby, of New Orleans, while I was acting as assistant editress of the Southern Bivouac.

It was related to him by his father, E.J.  Souby, Esq., formerly a gallant soldier of the Fifth Regiment, Hay’s Brigade, and now an honored member of Association Army of Northern Virginia, Louisiana Division.  It is a true story in every particular, and the name of the youthful hero is given, that it may live in our hearts, and be honored as it deserves, though he who so nobly bore it is now dead.  I wish that I could also give the name of his generous foe,—­no doubt as brave as generous,—­the Federal officer who interposed his authority to preserve the life of this gallant boy.  They should be recorded, side by side, on the same page of history, and be remembered with pride by the youth of our land, no matter whether their fathers wore the blue or the gray during the late civil war.

Nathan Cunningham was the name of this young hero.  He was a member of the Second Company Orleans Cadets, afterwards Company E, Fifth Regiment, Louisiana Volunteers, Hay’s Brigade, Array of Northern Virginia, and color-bearer of the regiment at the time the incident narrated below occurred.  The story is as follows: