No More Gallant Deed in History: The 1st Minnesota at Gettysburg

 

Sad are our hearts tonight,

For our dear brothers.

Sadder the bursting hearts,

Of widows and mothers.

Weep not, ye stricken ones,

Their death is all glorious,

Brothers and noble sons,

Dying victorious!

~ Poem written by former member of 1st Minnesota

 

The 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry suffered an 82% casualty rate during the Battle of Gettysburg, one of the highest percentages suffered by any Union regiment during the entire Civil War. Most of this loss was sustained on the afternoon of July 2, 1863, when the regiment charged forth to protect Battery A of the 4th U.S. Light Artillery and try to turn back a Confederate attack that was driving the 3rd Corps from the field.

General Winfield Scott Hancock who witnessed the charge later wrote, “there is no more gallant deed recorded in history." 

The first reports filtered back to Minnesota on July 10th when M.S. Wilkinson, the state agent in Washington, forwarded a note from Lieutenant Edgar L. Sproat (now with the 82nd New York) reporting that the regiment had “less than one hundred men and officers left. That is all that is left of as fine a body of men as the world ever saw.”

A week later (July 17th), the full casualty list was printed in newspapers across the state. It filled an entire column. The report stated that the regiment mustered 325 officers and men for duty. Losses totaled 47 killed, 121 wounded, and 90 missing, a total loss of 258 men, leaving just 67. A 79% casualty rate.

However, in the grand charge that General Hancock spoke of above, three companies of the regiment were on duty elsewhere- Co. C served on provost duty, Co. F was on the skirmish line, and Co. L was supporting Ricketts’ Battery, so all three companies missed that fight but rejoined the regiment for the fighting on July 3rd. That left 262 men who went into the charge on July 2nd, 215 of whom were lost. Hence the oft-reported casualty rate of 82%.

The entire command staff of the regiment had fallen: Colonel William Colville was wounded in the shoulder and foot; Lieutenant Colonel Charles F. Adams had been struck in the left lung and leg and was now reported dead; Major Mark Downie had been hit in the arm and foot and Adjutant Fuller had his left arm broken.

It would be mid-August before a complete account of the 1st Minnesota at Gettysburg appeared in the newspapers. “Few of the regiment have had time to write a full account of the late battles, and so many statements putting us into a false position have been published in the state that at the request of our officers, I have written a correct account of the fight as seen from our standpoint and more especially of our part in it,” the author wrote. This author, unfortunately, is unknown. The article, merely signed as “Sergeant,” first saw publication in the August 14, 1863, edition of the Weekly Pioneer & Democrat published in St. Paul, Minnesota.


Artist Rufus Zogbaum created this painting depicting the 1st Minnesota and their famous charge on July 2, 1863 during the Battle of Gettysburg. Of the 262 men who made the charge, 215 were killed, wounded, or missing. Our correspondent offered that no regiment "suffered such an awful proportion of fallen as in this charge of scarce six minutes' duration as did the 1st Minnesota." As horrific as these numbers are, the Civil War Book of Lists reports that two other Federal regiments at Gettysburg exceeded the 1st Minnesota in loss percentage if just barely: the 154th New York suffered a 83.7% loss while the 25th Ohio lost 83.6%. On the Confederate side, three regiments suffered a higher percentage of casualties than the 1st Minnesota at Gettysburg: 8th Virginia (92.2%), 23rd North Carolina (89.2%), and the 2nd North Carolina Battalion (82.9%). These staggering casualty figures point to the numbing ferocity of the engagement. 

Camp near Warrenton, Virginia

July 28, 1863

          On the first day of July while passing through Taneytown, Maryland, the well-known sound of artillery came booming on our ears and we saw the clouds of that peculiar white smoke which is only produced by the explosion of gunpowder rising in fleecy drifts between us and the blue hills of Pennsylvania, the first free soil we had seen since we passed the southern boundary of that state two years before.

          Pushing on rapidly, we at nightfall found ourselves among the cavalry, disabled artillery, and runaways that had straggled back from the scene of action. On their lips was the old tale of hard fighting and dreadful disaster which was received by jeers by the veterans of the Second Corps, too old soldiers to believe in straggler’s tales and too confident in themselves to care whether they were true or false, more especially as the narrators wore the half-moon of the 11th Army Corps.

          We slept that night near the field and in the morning moved up in order of battle to a ridge where our troops had fallen back that day. The right of the corps rested on Cemetery Hill while the left near Sugar Loaf Mountain which brought our division, commanded by General John Gibbon, in the center of our entire battle line. This, running in a horseshoe shape, left us to hold the “toe” directly in front of Lee’s main position.

          The morning was foggy, sultry, and murky. We spent it skirmishing, reconnoitering, and desultory cannonading. At 4 p.m., an advance of the Third Corps on our immediate left unmasked a similar movement by the enemy. The rattling fire of the skirmishers deepened into the continuous roll of musketry. The artillery on both sides opened vigorously and the engagement became general all along the left of our line. Although obliged to keep low, to avoid the cannonballs and shells continually whistling and bursting above and around us, we now beheld a grand sight. Below and before us was the plain where the battle was raging. Every movement was discernible and we watched with the anxiety of spectators so deeply interested in the result. Little of this could be seen in the faces of our boys, long accustomed to concealing their emotions on such occasions beneath the mask of reckless indifference.

          Presently their view was obscured for, though the sun shone brightly, the air was damp and the smoke lay heavily over the fight. Sometimes it formed a well-defined wall, following the lines of battle and reaching from the ground straight up to the clouds. Through this the moving battalions could be seen, but the positions of the batteries, more densely clouded, could only be discovered by the red flashes glaring through the darkness. Again, the cause of all the turmoil, cheers and noise would be completely hidden and none could tell how the battle was going. When, after such a moment, the wind would raise the veil, but few could repress a smile or an exclamation of delight to see that our flag was still there and that our men were crowding the fight.

          At 6 o’clock there was a lull of a few moments’ duration and then the enemy, advancing in heavy columns, began to drive the Third Corps steadily back. All was now bustle among us and from spectators we were to become actors. Co. L was detached to support Ricketts’ battery, and General Hancock in person moved our regiment and posted it to the left of Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, and behind the right division of the Third Corps. Co. F was sent out as skirmishers and Co. C was on provost duty just behind us.

General Winfield Scott Hancock
Commanding Second Army Corps

          About this time, General Dan Sickles was wounded and the front line of his corps gave way, their wounded and stragglers going to our rear. The second line met the shock gallantly and turned the enemy back. The enemy charged again and for a while this contest was sharp and desperate. At this critical moment, a fresh division of the enemy charged down and the Third Corps gave away, coming to the rear in squads carrying back men, flags, and wounded, running over our ranks in spite of all our attempts to rally them.

          The enemy’s artillery poured grape and shrapnel into the retreating groups and in return our battery A opened upon the Rebel infantry who were advancing with loud cheers and pouring volley after volley into the broken ranks of the Third Corps. This turned the enemy’s attention to the battery and soon a dozen of their crimson battle flags followed by as many regiments were advancing towards it, its only support being the eight companies of the 1st Minnesota, 270 officers and men all told.

          General Hancock rode up to Colonel William Colville and pointing to the smoke-covered masses of the advancing foe said, “Colonel, advance and take those colors!” Colonel Colville shouted “Forward” and as one man we commenced to move down the slope towards a little run at its foot which the enemy evidently wished to gain. Now their cannons were pointed at us and round shot, grape, and shrapnel tore fearfully through our ranks, and the more deadly Enfield rifles were directed at us alone.

          Great heavens, how fast our men fell! Marching as a file closer, it seemed as if every step was over some fallen comrade. Yet no man wavers; every gap is closed up, and bringing down their bayonets, the boys press shoulder to shoulder and disdaining the factitious courage proceeding from noise and excitement, advanced without a word or a cheer but with silent, desperate determination and step firmly forward in unbroken line.

          Within a hundred, within fifty steps of the foe. Three times the colors are shot down, three times arising they go forward as before. One fourth of the men have fallen and yet not shot has been fired at the enemy who pause a moment to look with awe upon that line of leveled bayonets and then, panic-stricken, run, but another line takes their place and pour murderous volleys into us not 30 yards distant. “Charge,” cries Colonel Colville and with a wild cheer we run at them. We could not see our comrades fall when every faculty was absorbed in the one thought of whipping the enemy in front.

The 1st Minnesota was primarily equipped with .58 caliber Model 1861 Springfield Rifle Muskets like the one depicted above at Gettysburg but Co. L, deemed a sharpshooting company, was armed with .52 caliber Sharps' rifles. 

           I know we reached the brink of the little run and gave them one volley which swept them from the earth, but a new line rises from the bed of the run at our feet and a brigade advances down the hollow on our right. Both open fire and our men fall, many pierced by balls both from the right side and front which crossed each other in their courses through the body. We fire away three, four, five irregular volleys, and but little ammunition is wasted when the muzzles of opposing guns almost meet. The enemy seemed to sink into the ground. They are checked and staggered; one division came up this instant and before we recovered from the bewilderment of the shock, we scarcely know how, but the Rebels are swept back over the plain.

          But good God! Where is the 1st Minnesota? Our flag was carried back to the battery and 70 men, scarcely one of them unmarked by scratches and bullet holes through their clothing, are all that formed around the colors. The other 200, alas, lay bleeding under it. Noble and heroic men, this alone must tell the tale of your glory. Poets have sung of “The Old Guard at Waterloo” and the “Light Brigade at Balaclava,” but the simple truth-telling lists of figures show that neither the one nor the other suffered such an awful proportion of fallen as in this charge of scarce six minutes’ duration as did the 1st Minnesota. It reads like the legend of Chevy Chase.

          Our field officers, rendered conspicuous by their great personal statues and cool and dashing gallantry, had all fallen, each pierced by several balls, and the command devolved upon Captain Nathan S. Messick of Co. G. Here I will add that the Fifth Corps reinforced the left and center of the Third Corps as we did its right, and with equal success. Night fell upon the field and we turned our attention to helping our wounded and gather together our dead. Scarcely had we begun this mournful task when the order came to move and join our brigade at our position of the morning. So, leaving our boys to the tender mercies of doctors and hospital attendants, we move our squad to the designated point.

          Here we were reinforced by Co. F which had been skirmishing and while doing service as effectually as the regiment had happily been more sheltered. Tired and weary, we might not sleep or even build fires to make coffee, but rested on our arms all the long, damp, drizzly night in wakeful anticipation of an attack.

         Sergeant’s account goes on to explain the action on July 3, 1863, in which the 1st Minnesota played a key role in repulsing Pickett’s Charge, in the process capturing the colors of the 28th Virginia. Sergeant concludes his account by stating that “we now muster about 100 men altogether, and the command devolving on Captain Henry C. Coates of Co. A, he marched us back to our old position where we spent the next two nights and on the morning of the 5th, after allowing us a few hours to hastily bury our dead, we were marched in pursuit of the enemy and have been in the front ever since. This is all right, though there are plenty of full regiments in the service that have never fired a gun at the enemy. But when we see the “cornstalk militia” and “emergency men” who turned out to save their homes and who, while near enough to hear the battle were not called on to go into it, and who, during the whole campaign, never smelled powder yet are to receive for their distinguished services medals of honor. While regiments such as the 1st Minnesota and its companions get nothing but curses for not “bagging” Lee and his whole army, we come to the conclusion that republics are ungrateful.”

If you’d like to walk the path of the July 2, 1863, charge of the 1st Minnesota at Gettysburg with American Battlefield Trust historians Garry Adelman and Kris White, click here. 


Sources:

“Terrible Slaughter in the First Minnesota,” Weekly Pioneer & Democrat (Minnesota), July 10, 1863, pg. 4

“Meeting of the Old Members of the Minnesota First,” Weekly Pioneer & Democrat (Minnesota), July 17, 1863, pg. 3

“Complete List of the Casualties in the First Minnesota at Gettysburg,” Weekly Pioneer & Democrat (Minnesota), July 17, 1863, pg. 6

“The Part Taken in the Battle of Gettysburg by the First Minnesota,” Weekly Pioneer & Democrat (Minnesota), August 14, 1863, pg. 3

Letter from “Sergeant,” Weekly Pioneer & Democrat (Minnesota), August 14, 1863, pg. 4

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