|
In the late spring of 1863, Confederate General Robert E. Lee began his most daring excursion yet. He and his army of 70,000 seasoned veterans ventured north into Pennsylvania, living off the bountiful farmlands. The
Union Army of 85,000, first commanded by Hooker and then by Meade, wheeled around, keeping itself between Lee and the capital at Washington.
By late June, neither side knew exactly where the other was. Lee was
hampered by the fact that his "eyes," the cavalry under J.E.B. Stuart, was busy circling around the Union forces, out of contact with the main Rebel force. The two armies finally bumped into each other in a pretty
little town called Gettysburg.
The First Minnesota, under the command of Col. William Colvill Jr., had been on the march for days en route to southern Pennsylvania. They were foot sore and cranky. In a period of
14 days, they had marched extensively on eleven of them. Their average advance on the march was 14 miles a day. On June 19, the Minnesotans had marched 31 miles.
Near Haymarket, Virginia, on the 25th of June,
1863, Colvill's horse was hit by an artillery shell in the hind legs, throwing rider and horse onto the muddy road. Colvill was fortunate that he was able to clear the stirrups and not have the horse land on him.
"But he was well plastered with a coating of dull, red Virginia mud. The colonel gave a fine exhibition of the cool nerve with which he was accustomed to good or ill fortune," recalled fellow Red Wing soldier
James Wright who kept an extensive diary throughout the war.
Colvill ordered the horse shot and sent his orderly, Milton Bevans, to save his saddle and bridle and find him another horse. With his personal
effects in a saddle bag over his arm, Colvill led the march on foot. Within an hour or so, "Mit" found him another horse and Colvill once again led his regiment while mounted.
For those not mounted, the marching
was a travail in the hot summer weather. Wright wrote that each soldier in the regiment carried a rifle and bayonet — weighing about 11 lbs. — 100 rounds of ammunition, a knapsack, a haversack full of rations,
canteen, coffee pot, cooking utensils, a blanket, tent cloth, rubber tarp, extra clothing, writing materials, perhaps a book, and other personal effects. The total of this load was about 40 lbs.
When
reaching the Monocacy River south of Gettysburg on June 29th, the First Minnesota was met by Col. Charles H. Morgan of Hancock's Second Corps staff. Morgan, the Corps' inspector general, had the job of making sure
the troops got over the river quickly and did not delay the march by using a makeshift log bridge at the ford.
One of the Company A soldiers, Charles Muller, later wrote that Morgan had also been present at a
similar river earlier in the day and had made sure the First Minnesota marched straight through it. The problem for the men was that it was a blisteringly hot day, and wet boots and long marches were not compatible.
Morgan informed Colvill that the regiment would march in good order right through the river.
Soldier Charles Muller wrote: "Col. Calwell dit not hesitad one second and marched through it and we followed him. But
most of the officers crossed on a small foot bridge."
The men marched ahead, and Colvill stayed at the riverside to water his horse. The 15th Massachusetts was next, and its men also resisted wading the river.
The New Englanders were also chastised by Morgan. Colvill was merely an observer of the Massachusetts' altercation, but he was approached by Morgan demanding an explanation for Minnesota's slow passage of the ford.
Colvill replied that the First Minnesota had already crossed in good order and was up the road.
Colvill later wrote that Morgan was about to accept this explanation when an officer of the First Minnesota, lagging
behind the unit, approached the Monocacy and crossed over on the log bridge. Morgan exploded in anger. It "led him to use very violent language not at all complimentary to the Minnesota regiment and its
commander," Colvill recalled later.
The incident might have passed, but it didn't. About three miles further up the road, the regiments were halted for a rest. Col. Morgan was riding through and apparently
the men of the 15th Massachusetts hissed or "groaned" the staff officer. Morgan, thinking it was the Minnesotans who had disparaged him, immediately approached Colvill and said he was going to put him on report.
Colvill strongly denied that the Minnesotans had booed Morgan, but the colonel rode off in anger. A half hour later, an aide from Gen. William Harrow, the 1st Brigade commander, rode up with an order placing Colvill
under arrest. Morgan had his revenge. The charge also specified that the First Minnesota had crossed the river in bad order. In addition, Morgan had ordered the arrest of Col. George H. Ward of the 15th
Massachusetts under similar charges.
The men of the First Minnesota were very angry at losing their leader. "There were expressed desires to 'mar his [Morgan's] visage' with a boot heel or the butt of a musket,
and some even suggested the use of the other end of the gun in the usual way. However, strong as was our resentment, it was clearly understood that our colonel was in disgrace wholly on our account, and any further
demonstration on our part would only make a bad matter worse. Colvill, marching at the rear of his regiment, urged the men to "drop it for my sake," Wright wrote later.
The First Minnesota marched 30 miles
that day. Lt. Col. Charles Adams took temporary command of the regiment after the arrest. On July 2, the First Minnesota was roused up at 2 a.m., got a hasty breakfast, and marched three miles to Cemetery Ridge.
Colvill had spent two days under house arrest, but with the battle looming he rode to find Gen. Harrow. He saluted and said, "General Harrow, the prospect is that we are to have a battle today. I should like to have
command of my regiment. I would be greatly obliged to you if you would relieve me from arrest." Harrow responded, "That is right, colonel, you shall have command. You are relieved."
"Before sunrise in the
morning, I immediately took command which he [Adams] held during the day." Adams, however, refused to give up the command at first, doubting his superior's authority, and Colvill had to go back to Harrow's HQ and
get an aide of Harrow's to ride back with him and confirm his release from arrest. "Lt. Colonel Adams bowed and retired." Colvill later wrote in a memoir about the battle.
Colvill's return "was received with
a spontaneous outburst of cheering and clapping of hands. The welcome he received ought to have pleased any man, and no doubt did please him immensely, but he only said, 'Keep still boys. Damn it, can't you keep
quiet?'"
Col. Ward of the Massachusetts regiment was also released from arrest and was likewise greeted with cheers by his men. Ward was killed in action later in the day.
By this time, the First Minnesota
had taken up a position on Cemetery Ridge, in the center of the Union's long position atop the high ground south of Gettysburg. On, July 1, the first day of battle, the Confederate Army had pushed the Union forces
back through Gettysburg to their present position.
The Minnesotans were situated just behind the crest of the gentle ridge, Colvill wrote, to the left of the cemetery and a few rods to the left and in front of a
small white building. They were very close to the Taneytown Road, which ran across the ridge behind them. In front, there was an easy slope downward to Plum run, "like that from the junction of Third and Jackson
Streets in St. Paul, down Jackson to the river," Colvill said later.
There was artillery fire from the direction of Gettysburg, from behind Wolf's and Culp's Hills to the right, and from the low ground in front
of the Round Tops to the left. "Shells crossed each other over us, and we lost several men during the day from such as happened to drop on the ranks."
Just before sundown, the group of 262 Minnesotans was moved
left along the crest near a battery, probably Thomas'. Not all of the regiment was there. Company C was on provost guard at Division Headquarters.
Company L, the sharpshooters who had joined the regiment out east, was detached to protect an artillery battery, and Company F, Colvill's old command, was sent off to the Emmitsburg Road to repel sharpshooters. The temporary assignment probably saved many lives among the Red Wing boys.
The Minnesotans on the ridge were able to follow the battle throughout the day in the distance below and to their left by the thundering of the cannon and musketry and the clouds of gunpowder smoke. The Union
left was the province of the Third Corps, commanded by Gen. Daniel Sickles. Sickles, apparently unhappy with the lack of action on his side, disobeyed orders and moved his Corps a half mile out in front of the Union
position. At about 4 p.m., Gen. James Longstreet's Confederate Corps attacked. The fighting was intense, and the places of confrontation are part of the Civil War lore: Peach Orchard, Wheat Field, Devil's Den, and
the Valley of Death.
Union reinforcements were drawn from Cemetery Ridge, leaving a gap in the Union lines. The ridge was now held by only a few undermanned regiments. Near sundown, an Alabama brigade broke
through and threatened the ridge. The battle hung in the balance.
To the left of the Minnesotans was a Vermont brigade, and the 82nd New York regiment was about 500 feet away. At this point, the remnants of
Sickles troops, "broken and disorganized," passed through the First Minnesota in hasty retreat. Thousands of soldiers streamed by. For the Minnesotans, this cannot have been a good sign.
General Winfield Scott
Hancock, in overall command of the Union's left flank, appeared on the ridge on his horse, and asked Colvill to help rally the skedaddling troops. "I undertook to stop and put them in line, but found it impossible
and demoralizing to my own regiment to do so," Colvill wrote.
The enemy, the troops from Alabama, were advancing in three long lines. Colvill, anticipating trying to hold his position, began to arrange his men
in battle lines. The Alabama skirmishers began a scattering fire upon the First Minnesota. At this point Hancock returned and looked at the small group of Minnesotans and said. "My God, are these all the men we have
here?"
Colvill assented, and Hancock swung to the right of the Minnesotans and gave the order. "Advance, colonel, and take those colors." Heads turned toward Colvill in the center of the regiment, who immediately
gave his order, "Attention First Minnesota, right shoulder shift arms, forward double quick, march!" Down the hill went the Minnesotans in perfect order.
"The swinging of the gleaming muskets as the right
shoulder shift was made in one time and two motions corresponding to the steps of the advance and seemed to emphasize the unity of the start… It was grand," Colvill wrote
The orderly movement down the hill soon
turned into a mad dash. One soldier recalled that the men picked up their pace in order to deny the Rebel soldiers the time to reload their guns. Many of the Minnesotans went down as they advanced.
"Men fell
fast. Each man as he fell seemed to turn to me as if to say, 'I can go no further'"
When the First Minnesota was within 15 feet of the first Rebel line, Colvill shouted, "Fire!" and the Minnesotans unloaded a
withering volley into the Rebel troops. "Under a galling fire from the enemy, we advanced and delivered a fire in their very faces which broke their line completely."
Some of the Minnesotans with bayonets
leveled, hit the Alabama troops hard. The Rebels were crossing the dry bed of Plum Run and were somewhat disorganized when they encountered the screaming assault, but they fought back hard. "I never saw cooler work
done on either side, and the destruction was awful," Colvill wrote.
The second line of Alabamans, approaching down the hill on the other side of Plum Run, brought up their rifles and returned the fire. "Killing
more of their own men than our own."
Colvill in later years wrote several descriptions of the famous charge, but never revealed his own thoughts as he led his gallant men down that hill. He was once asked that
question by his law partner's wife, Mrs. Akers, and he blurted out, "Gad, I thought of [General] Washington."
The Minnesotans at this point had suffered perhaps a score of casualties, but that was a brief mercy.
The Alabama troops on the flanks of the First Minnesota, particularly on the right, opened up a violent fire, catching the Minnesotans from the side and even from the back. The results were lethal. Colvill later
said that only the deepening twilight saved the entire regiment from being gunned down.
It was at this moment Colvill was hit. "A shock like a sledgehammer on my backbone between my shoulders. It turned me
partly around and made one 'see stars.' I suppose it was a piece of a shell." It wasn't a shell, it was a Minié ball that had entered the top of his right arm, passed under the shoulder blade, struck the back bone
and lodged in the flesh in the middle of his shoulder blade. Capt. Henry Coates of Company A rushed to Colvill's side and said, "Colonel, you are badly hurt." Colvill replied, "I don't know. Take care of the men."
Immediately, Colvill was hit again, this time in the ankle, and it brought him to the ground. This Minié ball struck his right foot at the ankle joint and crushed all the bones there. He rolled forward into the
dry creek bed. "Listening among other things to the bullets 'zipping' along the ground, and thought how fortunate for me was the fact of the gully."
Colvill used his sword to lift himself up to see what was
going on. He was right behind the colors. The battlefield was filled with smoke that hung in the air, and clear visions of what was transpiring happened only occasionally through the shifting clouds.
Only five
minutes had passed since Colvill had given the order to charge down the slope, but it must have seemed like an eternity. Only a fragment of his command was left standing. Nearly all the officers were down. In the
brief encounter, six men took turns at holding the regiment's colors and five of the six were wounded or killed.
The Minnesotans were finally relieved by the 19th Maine and the New York regiment on the right and
the Vermont troops on the left. Hancock was also sending other reinforcements up. The Alabama brigade was leaving the battlefield, "the enemy retired, every man for himself" leaving behind many dead and wounded, and
about 400 prisoners.
Colvill, who had passed out, came to in his ditch. He could hear the voices of his men looking for the dead and wounded. He heard one man "taking his last words for home and family." It was
dark and quiet and the stars were shining. Patrick Taylor, looking for his brother Isaac, found Colvill in the stream bed.
The losses for the First Minnesota were extreme. There were 57 killed and 167 wounded.
Of the wounded, 60 died later of their injuries. Four captains were killed and four lieutenants were wounded.
The charge became the stuff of legend. Hancock, who had given the initial order to charge, was
effusive in his report. "It was fortunate I found such a grand group of men as the First Minnesota. I knew they must lose heavily, and it caused me pain to give the order for them to advance, but I would have done
it if I'd known that every man would be killed. It was a sacrifice that had to be made. The superb gallantry of those men saved our line from being broken."
Bruce Catton, the noted Civil War historian, simply
said, "…The whole war had suddenly come to focus in this smoky hollow, with a few score Westerners trading their lives for the time the army needed… They had not captured the flag that Hancock had asked them to
capture, but they still had their own flag and a great name."
The men of the First Minnesota carried their leader back up the slope to where a field hospital had been set up. Colvill joined a large group of the
wounded and dying behind a large stone barn. He was soon placed on the surgeon's table and readied for amputation, but he refused the operation telling the doctor that "if his foot must go, he would go too." He was
brought back outside and placed under a tree. It rained torrents that night, and Colvill and the rest of the wounded had no shelter.
Charles Hubbs recalled that Colvill was suffering intensely, but did not
complain and instead kept inquiring as to the care of his men. "Not a word from him as to his own greater wounds — no word of complaint — just words of cheer and encouragement to the many others about him[.] when
morning and the surgeons came he asked that others be cared for before himself," Hubbs said. "I mention this as indicating his unselfishness and his fortitude. He was ever brave, gentle, kind and tolerant."
Not far away from Colvill lay the Confederate wounded, exposed to the pouring rain that began on Independence Day. Colvill wrote, "Their groans had been horrible all night… Directly, one of them in a clear,
sweet voice struck up a camp meeting hymn. Instantly the groans and cries ceased, and all joined in the hymn. It was evidently a favorite one to them – new to me. It was a grand refrain, from thousands of wounded
men; the singer then made a prayer. After that, no groans or complaints."
The next day, Colvill was carried a half mile to Wolf Run, a small creek, where his wounded foot and ankle were dangled in the water and
a tent fly was set up over his head.
While at the creek, Hancock, who was also wounded in the action, was brought to the same place. A staff officer of Hancock's came over to inquire about Colvill's condition,
and later the general sent over his brandy flask "from which the colonel took a good drink." Every day, men of the First Minnesota, including wounded in the makeshift hospital, would inquire as to how Colvill was,
and, "Every day some of the poor fellows would die," one of the soldiers wrote.
The Union Army attempted at some point to have all the officers with a rank of colonel or above moved to private houses in
Gettysburg. Colvill was brought to the Pierce home on corner of Baltimore and Breckinridge Street on July 28, nearly four weeks after the battle. He was brought there from the field hospital by two of his aides,
Milton Bevans and Walter Reed.
The Pierce family's daughter, Tillie, who was 15 years old at the time, wrote about it 25 years later, "As we had a very suitable room, she consented."
Colvill was carried in
on a litter and "was suffering greatly." His aides found that the bed was too short for Colvill, and they knocked off the foot board and extended the sleeping area. "The colonel was a very tall man of fine
proportions," Tillie wrote. She said he was wounded in his right ankle and in his shoulder, with the upper wound extending all the way to his spine.
Mrs. Pierce was very attentive to the house guest, as were
Bevans and Reed. "The nurses could not have been more devoted. He was highly esteemed by all his men, many of whom visited him at the house, and even wept over him in his suffering and helplessness. They always
spoke of him as one of the bravest men in the army."
Colvill's sister, Mary, came after a few days from New York, and Tillie said her presence seemed to be a turning point in the colonel's recovery.
It was
thought that Colvill could recover in Minnesota, but the journey immediately proved too painful and arduous for him. His nurses had jury-rigged a more comfortable way to make the trip by attaching his litter to
rubber supports hooked to the roof of a cattle car. Still, when the train reached Harrisburg, Colvill was taken off and moved to the local hospital.
While in Harrisburg, one of his nurses was Cornelia Hancock, a
23-year-old Quaker woman whose letters from that time were later collected in a book. "The colonel, I knew well. He is a very fine man. He had three bullets in him. He got the other at Antietam, and it's still
there. Dr. Child took out the other two."
Colvill eventually recovered enough to go back to his hometown of Forestville, N.Y., for a time, probably still in the care of his sister. By February 6, 1864, he was
healed enough to attend a banquet that was held in Washington to honor the First Minnesota which was nearing its mustering out date. The affair drew a host of luminaries including Vice President Hamlin, Secretary of
War Stanton, Secretary of the Navy Usher and many from Congress. Colvill was not expected to attend because of his wounds.
James Wright said, "The return of Col. Colvill to the regiment for the first time since
Gettysburg was one of the events of the evening. Most men in his condition would have felt it impossible to be present. He could not walk or stand, and was carried in my two of the stalwart members of the regiment,
Captain Tom Sinclair and Sergeant Johnny Merritt. His entrance into the banquet hall was unexpected, and when he was brought in, there was a spontaneous outburst of shouting and cheering, which showed the feelings
of the men toward him."
Cornelia Hancock was then working in Washington and had an opportunity to visit Colvill. "He is confined to a bed," she wrote, "cannot put his foot on the ground, yet his face looks as
well as when he was first wounded. The way the Senators and Congressmen, judges and jury are paying honors to the colonel, was gratifying in the extreme.
"I always feel when in his presence, 'Here lies a brave
man.'"
|
