On the 9th of June, 1863, occurred the battle of Brandy Station, in which more cavalry were engaged than in any battle of the Civil War. General Buford's division had crossed the Rappahannock River at Beverly Ford early in the morning. General Gregg's division crossed at Kelly's Ford, and General Duffie farther down the river, the latter being under General Gregg's command and supposed to accompany him. As we were approaching Brandy Station we heard the heavy cannonading of Buford's attack, when General Gregg, with the brigades of Colonel Windham and Colonel Kilpatrick, hurried to the battlefield. Around the station and between Culpeper and the Rappahannock the country was open and favorable for cavalry engagements. Indeed, there was one there at every advance and retreat of the army during 1862 and 1863, I being present at three of them.

As soon as we emerged from the woods near the station we saw the enemy on a hill near the Barber House, which was General Stuart's headquarters. We were approaching them practically in their rear; their artillery, however, firing at us. General Gregg at once ordered Colonel Windham to charge with his three regiments—the First New Jersey, the First Pennsylvania, and the First Maryland; Kilpatrick's brigade at the time was coming on the field to our right. Windham charged this hill in columns of regiments, and it was a very thrilling sight to see these troops going up the slope in the bright June sun, their sabres glistening. As they neared the enemy General Gregg showed an enthusiasm that I had never noticed before. He started his horse on a gallop toward the house, swinging his gauntlets over his head and hurrahing, at the same time telling Captain Weir to ride over and direct Kilpatrick to charge at once. Captain Weir happened to be riding a horse that would always refuse a fence unless another went first. At this critical moment his horse shied twice, when mine took the fence and I started to carry the order. As soon as my horse went over Captain Weir's immediately followed. As he was the adjutant-general and directed to take the order, I rode up the hill supposing that when Kilpatrick's brigade got there the enemy would be routed and I might get a prisoner. On arriving at Stuart's headquarters I found Windham's brigade in a hand-to-hand fight around the house. Here I met a flanking party of the enemy, who were driving back a portion of General Windham's command, Kilpatrick's men not then having reached that point.

In the fight about these headquarters I saw a Confederate officer sabre a man who I believe belonged to the Maryland regiment; and although the man begged for quarter, I saw this officer strike him twice after he offered to surrender. I tried to shoot him, but the ball from my pistol missed him and struck his horse. This did not take immediate effect. Finding that I was about to be cut off, as Windham's command had been repulsed and Kilpatrick had not arrived, and having only one charge left in my revolver, I had to allow the officer to ride up to strike me, so as to be sure of my aim. As I presented the pistol, it missed fire, and as soon as he could recover his seat in the saddle he struck at me. I had, however, fallen down on the neck of my horse, so the point of the sabre cut into my collar-bone, but the weight of the blow cut a two-quart pail, that I had borrowed that morning to cook coffee in, nearly in two. Before either of us could recover control of our horses, I had gotten my sabre in my hand, which had been hanging by a knot from my wrist, as was the custom. He then struck at me the second time, which blow I parried. His horse then sank under him. I was then being crowded in a corner, where a fence joined a building, by four of his followers, one of whom was dismounted. The latter I saw shooting at me. Urging my horse he jumped a fence and then a ditch beyond it. This enabled me to escape with only the loss of my hat. I was particularly anxious not to be captured, because before going into the action the General had confided to me, for safe-keeping, all his despatches and instructions, which it was my custom to carry about my person, as, wearing a private's uniform, in the event of capture, there would be less liability of my being searched than in the case of a staff-officer wearing the uniform of an adjutant-general. I finally joined some of our men near the railroad station, but could not find the General; so, for the time being, I reported to an officer of the First New Jersey cavalry, whom I knew, and remained with him until we were again cut off by a force of the enemy. Later in the day I found General Gregg, who, I was told, had been quite anxious lest I had been captured, for some one had reported that he had seen me hard pressed by the enemy, and he supposed I was captured, and the General knew I had his papers in my pocket.

My wound was not dangerous, though painful, and that night, after it was plastered up by the doctor, I sat up and made out a list of the casualties of the division during the day. When it was suggested by Adjutant-General Weir, that I include my name, I remarked that I thought I would not do it, as seeing it in the newspapers would needlessly alarm my mother, and that it did not amount to anything serious, and wasn't worth while. After the war, however, on the advice of friends, I reported this circumstance to the War Department and had it certified by both General Gregg and Colonel Weir,[1] who are still living, merely to make it a part of my record there on file.

[1] See Appendix B.