Alonzo Cushing and the Courage That Held Gettysburg's Ridge

Nov 27 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing and the Courage That Held Gettysburg's Ridge

Blood and iron, sweat and grit — on July 3, 1863, at Gettysburg, a young artillery officer stared death in the eye and spat defiance. Mortally wounded yet unyielding, Alonzo Cushing manned his battery through hell’s furnace until the last breath left his body. The guns thundered, the Confederates surged — and still, his cannon roared. That moment, carved in red, defines the measure of a warrior’s soul.

A Lineage Forged in Duty and Faith

Born in Wisconsin in 1841, Alonzo Herbert Cushing came from a family entwined with the blood and honor of the Union cause. His father, Alonzo W. Cushing, a West Point grad himself, imbued the young soldier with a fierce sense of duty and the quiet strength of faith that would carry him through war’s darkest hours.

Raised in the Episcopal tradition, Cushing carried more than a musket to battle — he carried an unshakable belief in a higher purpose. This faith wasn’t sentimental or soft; it was steel. It was a code: fight for righteousness, serve others selflessly, and embrace sacrifice with humility.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13

That scripture wasn’t mere words to Cushing. It was his war hymn.

The Battle That Defined Him: Gettysburg, July 3, 1863

The crescendo of the Gettysburg fight was the Confederate charge aimed at the Union center — Pickett’s Charge. Cushing, then 22, was a First Lieutenant in Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery. Positioned on Cemetery Ridge, his gun crews faced a tidal wave of rebel infantry.

When Union forces began to fall back, many would have followed, but not Cushing. He refused to abandon his guns. Bullets chipped wood and tore flesh, but he stayed at his post, directing fire with cold precision.

A shell struck his left arm, shattering bones. As blood poured, he reportedly told his men, “All right, boys, fire away!” Even as a second wound pierced his body, he directed artillery fire until he collapsed.

Eyewitnesses describe a figure propped against the cannon’s wheel — a man wounded beyond reason, still fighting. Cushing’s stand delayed Confederate forces, buying critical time for Union reinforcements to rally.

He died on the field, clutching his post — a warrior’s last testament penned in smoke and sacrifice.

Recognition in the Fog of War — The Medal of Honor Posthumous

Cushing’s heroism went recognized decades after the war. In 2014, 151 years later, the Medal of Honor was awarded posthumously, finalizing an overdue honor for steadfast valor under merciless fire.

The citation reflects the grim weight of that day:

“When his battery had been moved from line, he remained alone at his gun directing it against the enemy until he fell, mortally wounded.”

General Andrew A. Humphreys, present at Gettysburg, described Cushing’s actions as “one of the grandest exhibitions of heroism” in the Army.

Letters from surviving comrades speak of his “unyielding courage” and “devotion that never faltered.”

This delayed recognition doesn’t diminish the man’s sacrifice; it amplifies the timeless truth that valor often waits years to be seen — but never fades.

Legacy: Scars, Sacrifice, and an Enduring Testament

Alonzo Cushing’s life was a brief flare in the bloody dawn of America’s bloodiest battle. His story is not myth or legend, but iron-hard fact – a compass pointing to the essence of combat: courage under hellfire.

He teaches us that true leadership means standing when others fall, that sacrifice is never easy, but necessary. His wounds mark the price paid so freedom could breathe.

In the grit and grime of war, amidst screams and smoke, Cushing’s faith never faltered. His final act was not simply survival, but fidelity to a cause bigger than himself.

For veterans and civilians alike, his life echoes this hardened truth: some scars aren’t visible, but the legacy they leave is eternal.

In the end, it is the legacy of honor, sacrifice, and redemption that endures long after the guns fall silent. We remember Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing — not just for his medal, but for his soul laid bare on Gettysburg’s blood-soaked ridge.

“The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart.” — Isaiah 57:1

But we do lay it to heart. And we carry that burden forward.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients — Civil War 2. Furgurson, Ernest B., Chancellorsville 1863: The Souls of the Brave (knowing details of Gettysburg battles and Cushing’s role) 3. National Park Service, Gettysburg National Military Park: Alonzo Cushing 4. Medal of Honor citation, United States Army 5. Humphreys, Andrew A. personal correspondence cited in Gettysburg: The Last Invasion by Allen C. Guelzo