Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 14.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

Thus passed away ‘this incomparable young man’ at the early age of twenty-three. It was his lot to be tried in great events and his fortune to be equal to the trial. In his boyhood he had nourished noble ambitions, in his young manhood he had won a fame greater than his modest nature ever dreamed, and at last there was accorded him on field of battle the death counted ‘sweet and honorable.’

In the contemplation of a stainless life thus rounded by heroic sleep, selfish sorrow dares not raise its wail.

What more can any mortal among men, though he come to fourscore, hope to win than in life to illustrate the virtues which noble souls reckon the highest, and in death to leave behind him a name which shall go down upon the lips of comrades ever eager to speak his biography?

So of the others.

Is it a small thing so to have lived and so to have died that the mere mention of their names still stirs the pulse's play, and that we, their surviving comrades, pondering in our hearts their unshaken resolution in the face of cruel odds, their serene constancy in adversity, rise up even to this day from the contemplation of all their stern and gentle virtues, strengthened for the ‘homelier fray’ of daily life.

Surely it is meet that, as occasion serves, the survivors of this historic corps should gather together to renew old ties of comradeship, to do honor to the memory of the dead, to discuss the great events in which they shared. This last shall they do as becomes brave men—with no bitterness, no bootless railing against the malice of Fortune, but temperately and with chastened pride, yielding generous recognition of the soldierly virtues of their old adversaries, now their fellow-citizens of a common country.

Not one of these old adversaries, I dare affirm, who was steadfast to his own colors, but can understand and sympathize with our affection for this tattered flag consecrated by so many proud memories.

And now, sir, to you,¹as ranking officer of the Battalion—to you, who, more than a score of years ago, attested your devotion to this flag by freely shedding your blood in its defence on the heights of Fredericksburg, I confide these colors, the gift of Mrs. Virginia Johnson Pegram to the survivors of Pegram's Battalion.

Here on the wall of this capitol of our ancient Commonwealth shall it find a fitting place among the proud memorials of our mother's great renown in other wars.