Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 16.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[227] recollection of my arrival at the hospital. Sinking into a state of insensibility, I was carried thither by those appointed for that purpose. When aroused to consciousness Corporal H. L. Culler, of Company E, Private Ch. Franklin, of Company B, and Private ——, of Company A, and Private——, of Company H, were around, with hundreds of others, friends and foes, receiving medical attention. I would mention the conduct of Surgeon Joseph Yates as worthy of the highest admiration. Nor should the admiration be confined to his conduct on this occasion. Temperate, humane, untiring in his energy, unflagging in his zeal, he was still as brave as Julius Caesar. My last recollections of him on that ill-starred field place him at the head of the regiment, cheering it on with the most gallant bearing. Indeed this was the only objection that could be urged against him, and even then it was rather that he endangered his own life than that he neglected the lives of others.¹ I certainly do not derogate from the medical branch of the late Confederate army when I say that, after an extensive acquaintance with medical officers, I have found none worthy to take rank with him. I would not that my admiration for the merit merge into flattery of the man. I have therefore given an expression to what I know of a young man who promises to become eminent in his profession, and who stood up like a man and a hero at a time and in a station when it was hardly discreditable to appear otherwise.

Upon inquiry of a surgeon as to the probability of my recovery, I was candidly but kindly informed that the ‘chances were against me.’ The medical opinion was opposed to the performance of an operation, as such would render the ‘chances’ of recovery still more precarious. I was utterly prostrate, and sank from sheer exhaustion if any effort was made to raise me up. The next day we were informed that our army was retreating, and that, as we could not be removed, our capture was certain. Surgeon Yates remained with us. When taken, we were sent to Gettysburg Hospital where our treatment, though kind, was rendered repugnant by the flippancy of some of the United States surgeons. One, for instance, passed where Corporal Culler and myself were lying and remarked that we ‘must die in any event.’ Culler was shot through the body and, though expecting this announcement, his spirits sank and