Who that ever knew Col. David A. Brown, the epitome of unselfishness, can ever forget him-his stalwart, soldierly frame, his hearty handshake, his kindly grasp, and his warm greeting? These memories as a legacy which those who knew him best and loved him most will ever delight to recall. Truly, as was said of another, "he loved his fellow man." Of this he gave ample proof and in many ways during the course of a long and useful life both as Quartermaster of R. E. Lee Camp No. 1, C. V., of Richmond, Va., to which he was devotedly attached and which he served long and faithfully, and also as Quartermaster General of the Virginia Division of the United Confederate Veterans. To his warm heart and thoughtful care many of the old soldiers at the numerous reunions which he attended and at the Home here in Richmond owed many of the comforts they received without knowing whence they came.
The record of a faithful Confederate soldier is always interesting, especially to his old comrades. In the spring of 1862, like many other Confederate boys, fired with a patriotic desire to drive the ruthless invading hosts of a common enemy from our homes and firesides, David Andrew Brown, though under military age, joined Capt. W. W. Parker's Battery of Virginia Light Artillery, A. N. V., the "Boy Company," as it was called, of which his brother, Gen. J. Thompson Brown, was then a lieutenant and which he commanded at the close of the war. David Brown bore a creditable part in all succeeding campaigns of those three eventful years down to Appomattox, a faithful recital of which is enough to make angels weep.
He was in seventeen battle and was twice wounded and twice captured, the last time only three days before and almost, as it were, in sight of the final surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia. He was kept in prison for some months after the close of the war. On his return to his home in Richmond he did much to assist in restoring and rebuilding the fallen fortunes of our common country.
This is not the time nor place to speak more extendedly of the many activities of his busy and useful life. He will be sadly missed by his old comrades and friends at their annual Reunions and elsewhere. He has gone to the reward that awaits the faithful, the true, and the brave. After life's fitful fever he sleeps well "in the land where we were dreaming." Friend and comrade of many years, farewell. May the clods of the valley rest lightly upon your grave, and may we meet again in "that goodly land that is beyond the Jordan" (of death)!
"As a shell that is torn from the sea
SOURCE: Confederate Veteran Magazine, February 1920.
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