Saturday, August 13th.
On awaking this morning I found that it was reported at the hospital that the Second Corps had gone up the James River towards Richmond, but I could get no definite information in regard to the movement. Taking my old hand-bag, which contained all my personal effects except the clothes I had on, my overcoat and sword, I went to the office of the hospital and told the surgeon-in-charge that I was going to find my company, which had gone up the river with the Second Corps. He seemed a little surprised, and turning to some record he had before him, informed me that on the application of Doctor Hoyt I had been received at the hospital as an officer invalided by sunstroke, and that under the regulations I could not leave until discharged by the proper medical authorities, and, upon my attempting to remonstrate, he ventured to suggest that Dr. Hoyt had probably saved my life by the trick he had played on me in leaving me at the hospital the night before, and advised me to accept the situation as I found it and go back to my ward and ask for a thorough physical examination. Rather reluctantly, but conscious that there might be some grounds for the advice, I followed it, and upon an examination by the medical staff was told that I was “unfit for duty,” one of the surgeons remarking “he may be good for something in six months, but the chances are that he never will be worth much.”
