The largest cavalry battle of the war was fought on June 9 when 11,000 Union troops crossed the Rappahannock and attacked 10,000 Confederate cavalrymen deployed around Brandy Station, five miles northeast of Culpeper Court House. Although they were taken by surprise, the Confederates eventually drove the Union forces from the field. The Confederates lost about 500 men killed, wounded, or missing, and the Union about 900. Major Henry C. Whelan of the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry described the battle to his sister.
Thursday Morning, June 11/63.
Old Camp under the Oaks near
Catletts Station, Va.
On Monday the 8th we marched from here at 3 P.M. and halted near the ford for the night—no fires—and all kept perfectly quiet. At 3 in the morning we were again in the saddle and our Regiment, at the head of the Regular Brigade, crossed the river, when fighting immediately began. The Rebels fell back slowly, until they gained a good position, when they made a stand. Whilst I was by the side of Haseltine, talking with him, a number of shots hissed close by us, and a minute after, Harry’s magnificent horse “Medor” fell, shot through the flank. About 15 minutes later we were ordered to advance on the woods from which the enemy were annoying us with sharp shooters. We had with us then five, Captain Treichel’s Company A; Company D, Lieut. White; Company F, Captain Davis; Company K, Lieut Colliday; and Company L, Captain Leiper—the other five Companies were on duty on the north side of the river and joined us later in the day. Leiper’s Company advanced as skirmishers, and Major Morris led the two squadrons, he at the head of the first, I of the second. We passed through the woods, being heavily shelled on our left by the enemy’s batteries. When we came through to the open, we found a whole brigade of Stuart’s Cavalry drawn up to receive us. We dashed at them, squadron front with drawn sabres, and as we flew along—our men yelling like demons—grape and cannister were poured into our left flank and a storm of rifle bullets on our front. We had to leap three wide deep ditches, and many of our horses and men piled up in a writhing mass in those ditches and were ridden over. It was here that Major Morris’ horse fell badly with him, and broke away from him when he got up, thus leaving him dismounted and bruised by the fall. I didn’t know that Morris was not with us, and we dashed on, driving the Rebels into and through the woods, our men fighting with the sabre alone, whilst they used principally pistols. Our brave fellows cut them out of the saddle and fought like tigers, until I discovered they were on both flanks, pouring a cross fire of carbines and pistols on us, and then tried to rally my men and make them return the fire with their carbines.
I found we were rapidly getting hemmed in, so I, as rapidly as possible, gathered together the remnant of our Regiment and dashed out of the woods, only to find that hundreds of grey devils occupied both sides of the open;—and because we had not been supported, we were completely surrounded. Then came a race for life—I shook the reins on poor little “Lancer’s” neck, and he dashed off with the speed of a deer, passed by scores of yelling demons, who devoted most of their attention and shots to me. How many were fired at once I am afraid to guess, as it would look like exaggeration. I had to dash to the right and to the left to avoid and get between them, and a dozen of them fired so close to me that I almost felt the hot breath of their pieces—one officer rode close up on my right side and levelled his pistol. I stooped under his arm on “Lancer’s” neck as he fired, and gave him a hissing right cut with my sabre as I flew by—I then dropped my sabre on my wrist and drew my pistol and fired at all who came too close—I passed a dismounted Rebel officer so close that I could have cut his head off. An Irishman, of Company K, who was splendidly mounted, stuck to me like a leech, and called out from behind: “Major, there’s an officer—shall I cut him down?” I saw his horse was killed and he himself stood defenceless, so I told the man to let him alone. That Irishman cried out, when I cut the rebel who fired his pistol at me: “Good for you, Major”, and gave a regular Irish whoop.
Oh! What a fearful ride, full two miles of ground covered with dead and wounded men and horses, wide ditches, which my dear sorrel cleared like an antelope, and all the time pursued and fired at by those grey blood-hounds, who kept yelling for me to surrender. To get rid of some of them, I made a desperate dash at a stone wall about 5 feet high, which “Lancer” topped like a bird. After that, only four or five continued the chase, until I caught sight of some of our Cavalry and rode for them across the country, over a deep creek and two wide ditches and one more stone wall. I found they were a Company of the 2nd Regulars, Captain Rodenbaugh, of Easton. As soon as I joined them, the Rebels broke out of the woods, five times the number of Rodenbaugh’s men, so he wheeled about and started his men back by fours at a gallop. I rode along with them, and going through a narrow gate their horses got jambed and piled up in a horrid kicking mass—poor “Lancer” was almost crushed—I could only see part of his head, some grey horse’s legs were right over his neck, and I was crushed in so tight, with horses on both sides, that I could not move. Strange to say, after much kicking, groaning and rolling about, I managed to get “Lancer” partly free; and then he struggled out with me, considerably bruised, and his hind leg bleeding. It was only a minute perhaps, but it seemed hours of horror, to be pinioned and fettered by a writhing mass of heavy horses, and the murderous Rebels coming up to shoot or stab us in the back.
“Lancer” was no sooner free than away he sped like an arrow from the bow, and bore me back safe, though covered with dust and bruised and weary. The men I got together, who made their way back from the charge, only numbered about one small squadron. I was reinforced by Frazier’s squadron, from the other side of the river, and sent to take possession of a stone wall which the Rebels were trying to get with their skirmishers.
The enemy, in about an hour, brought so strong a force against the place that they ordered me to take the balance of my Company and to garrison this wall. I had to take them over an open field, about six hundred yards, through a perfect tempest of shell, grape, canister, solid shot and rifle bullets. I took them at a full run, but before we reached the wall, poor Captain Davis was shot dead with a grape shot; two of Frazier’s men, together with their horses, were literally smashed by a solid shot; a large number of men were wounded, and horses killed. Going to and down at that wall was decidedly the hottest place I was ever in. A man could not show his head or a finger without a hundred rifle shots whistling about you. We saw negroes with white teeth grinning firing at us with long rifles. I was obliged to ride three times up and down that fearful place with the air almost solid with lead.
At last, when the 5th Cavalry men, who were out of ammunition, left to return, the Rebels charged in number 3 to 1 of us; and we were forced to fall back. I had just sprung on poor “Lancer’s” back when there came a rifle ball right through his flank, and the noble little fellow could move no more. He fell with and although in that hail storm of iron and lead I could have sat down and cried. I own that my eyes filled with tears as I walked slowly away. In a moment my orderly, Ward, of Company C, rode up to me, sprung to the ground, and said, “Major, take my horse—I have a carbine, and can get back safe on foot”. I mounted and rode back, whilst Ward turned and shot a Rebel who was robbing “Lancer” of his saddle blanket. Lieut. Lennig was lost at that place, whether killed, wounded or taken prisoner, we don’t know. How I escaped through all I can’t imagine. I was only grazed on the left wrist, and didn’t know it till I saw my wrist bathed in blood. The shot which killed “Lancer” passed close to my thigh through the saddle bag and piercing Bulwer’s “What will he do with it”, which was strapped to the saddle bag. I will send the book to you by mail. It has some of “Lancer’s” blood upon it. All the rest of that day we were engaged constantly under severe fire from artillery and small arms, until we fired away all our ammunition, and about five in the afternoon the regular brigade, exhausted by 14 hours hard fighting, retired to the other side of the river.
The conduct of officers and men of the 6th Penna. Cavalry is spoken of in the highest terms by all. General Buford says the regiment has covered itself with glory, but at a fearful expense. We lost six officers and over one hundred men killed, wounded and missing, and took 347 men and 18 officers into the fight. Our loss is thus one third of the whole command engaged.
Our charge on the Rebel brigade is said by all to have been the finest feature of the fight and leaving us unsupported to cut our own way back is severely blamed on—“somebody”.
I have tried to give you as faithful account as I could, but such a crowd of terrible incidents is almost impossible to describe. Charley Leiper was cut across the forehead by a sabre, but he fought like a Turk with pistol and sabre, was surrounded and disarmed, but still stuck to his horse and striking with his fists finally broke away and escaped. Haseltine was twice struck by spent balls, one hurting him quite severely. Eight of our officers had their horses shot away under them. Lennig had two horses shot, and so had White. Colliday was lost in the charge—Rudolph Ellis was shot in the leg during the afternoon. He was quite close to me—he and Leiper were sent to Washington. I recovered the body of Capt. Davis and sent it to Washington with the Chaplain there to be embalmed and sent home. He is a great loss to the Regiment and is deeply mourned.