THE IMMORTAL SIX HUNDRED
He lingered for a day or two and died on the afternoon of October 2, 1864, just four days after his removal from under fire. Far away from loved ones and home this grand hero closed his eyes, to open them again only when the Grand Commander of all armies shall announce the day of the great muster. There in the hospital tent on Morris Island, upon a pallet of straw, sleeping the sleep of the just, the true, and the brave, lay a Confederate soldier whose spirit had surrendered only to death. He laid down his life for the cause of the South, the land he loved. About him stood men in blue; they were enemies, they could not understand, they could not know, the great heart that had ceased to beat. In the twilight we dug him a grave in the sands of Morris Island, and laid him to rest, while the shot and the shells from Charleston and Sumter's batteries sang his funeral dirge. Peace to his ashes!
This is not the only case of heroism of the Confederate Army. The Confed-
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