Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 13.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[128] of, Dr. Gesner left, informing me that I was behind our own lines, and that he had to go before the gap through which he had moved his hospital was closed. Late in the night, I think after midnight, General Birney came in, and I learned from him that they had been heavily reinforced from the other side of the Chickahominy, and were reoccupying the positions from which they had been driven. This excited my alarm for you, for without knowing exactly where I was, there could be no doubt in my mind that you were some distance in advance of where these reinforcements were being posted. Nor was I relieved until sent to the rear, where I had access to their newspapers. In these I saw nothing in relation to you, but glowing accounts of the resistless advance of the Sixth Regiment and Palmetto Sharpshooters giving their specific names. Your prowess on this field won for your colonel, a prisoner in their hands, the consideration of those who encountered you here. General Birney took sufficient interest to have his surgeon, Dr. Pancoast, examine my wound, and he discovered that I would not die before morning, as we all expected before his examination, and they both exhibited the kindest pleasure over the discovery. To say nothing of innumerable attentions paid by officers and men of a large camp near which I was lying the next day, and among them were some who had been captured by us, and escaped while going to the rear, I was the recipient of the most generous and courteous consideration from the knightly General Phil. Kearney. On learning that my wound was not fatal, as at first reported to him, he took the trouble to send a special messenger to the rear to see that I was properly cared for. All of these distinguished attentions and generous courtesies were extended to the colonel of the Sixth South Carolina Regiment. They did not even know my name.

When in the midst of raging battle trophies were brought to me. I remember three regimental standards were brought to me almost simultaneously. (Three more were brought to me during the battle, making six in all.) I leaned them against a tree, saying, ‘Press on, boys, we have no time for these baubles now.’

But these attentions to a wounded, helpless prisoner, who was only known by the prowess of his regiment in the fight, were the knightly courtesies of a gallant enemy, and were accepted as such with feelings of profoundest gratification and pride. They are, indeed, the noblest trophies of war, as they can be won only from a brave and worthy foe.

My old comrades, in the performance of this duty, which has been