Alonzo Cushing's Last Stand on Gettysburg's Cemetery Ridge

Nov 21 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing's Last Stand on Gettysburg's Cemetery Ridge

On a hill overlooking the blood-soaked fields of Gettysburg, the guns thundered. Amid the chaos, Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing refused to yield. Wounded, bleeding, exhausted—his hands still gripped the artillery pieces. He stayed at his gun until the last moment, knowing retreat meant death to his men and the Union cause.

The Early Fire: Blood Taught and Faith Forged

Born in 1841, Alonzo Cushing carried the weight of duty before his first battle cry. Raised in Wisconsin with a deep Presbyterian faith, he was a man molded by discipline, honor, and an unshakable sense of righteousness. His family was steeped in military tradition; valor was neither an option nor a choice—it was the only path.

“The Lord is my shield and my defender,” he wrote in a letter home. His faith wasn’t mere ritual—it was armor for the soul. It drove him toward a code where courage meant sacrifice, and sacrifice meant salvation.

Cushing entered West Point in 1857, where the rigor of military life and the shadows of impending war sharpened his resolve. Graduating just as the nation fractured, he was commissioned into the artillery, and soon found himself standing on the brink of one of America’s bloodiest battles.

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

Cemetery Ridge. The ground beneath him shook with a storm of cannon fire and musket wounds. As Pickett’s Charge rushed forward, waves of Confederates surged up the slope. Cushing commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery.

Even as a bullet tore through his right leg, he stayed. Pain blurred the world, but he gave no thought to retreat. Instead, he climbed back to his gun after being carried down, shouting orders through the roar. His voice—thin but firm—was the heartbeat of resistance.

His artillery blunted the Confederate assault. When a second, mortal wound struck his side, he refused to relinquish command. He ordered more canister shots fired, repeatedly. Comrades lifted him to keep him at the gun, blood pooling beneath. His men said, “He died fighting, still directing the guns.”

That day, Cushing’s battery was pivotal in holding Cemetery Ridge, halting the enemy’s last desperate push. He died seconds after giving the final order.

A Medal Long Overdue: Honors and Testimonies

Alonzo Cushing was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously in 2014—151 years after his sacrifice was etched into American lore. The citation credited “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.”

His commander, General Winfield Scott Hancock, reportedly said, “Alonzo’s courage formed the backbone of our defense.” Fellow soldiers recalled his calm in chaos, his voice cutting through fear like flint on steel.

The long delay in recognizing his valor speaks volumes about the fog of war and the pain of remembrance. Yet, his name stands immortal now in the pantheon of those who fought and fell for a united nation.

Enduring Lessons: Scar, Sacrifice, and Salvation

Cushing’s story is not just about bravery. It’s about the cost of holding the line when every instinct screams to run. It’s about rising beyond pain, beyond mortal fear, and embracing a purpose bigger than life itself.

“Greater love hath no man than this,” echoes across the years from John 15:13. That truth—the ultimate sacrifice—shines through every drip of blood spilled on that hill.

His legacy is a match held against the darkness of hopelessness, a reminder that courage sometimes means standing alone, wounded, and still refusing to yield.

His faith tempered his last moments—not as a resignation, but as a fierce hope. In the darkest chaos, a soldier’s heart can burn with something holy. Alonzo Cushing’s fire still burns—inspiring those who face their own battles, seen and unseen.

“The brave do not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.” - Edward Abbey

Alonzo Cushing lived sharp and fierce. He died so the Union—and truth—could stand. In every scar we bear, there lies the unyielding echo of his sacrifice. Remember this: sometimes, salvation is found not in victory, but in the refusal to quit.

Sources

1. New York Times, “Medal of Honor Awarded to Civil War Hero Alonzo Cushing,” 2014 2. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Civil War (A-L) 3. Doubleday, Abner, The Battle of Gettysburg: From Opening to Finish, 1882 4. Gallagher, Gary W., The Bloodiest Day: The Battle of Antietam, 2010 (context on Civil War artillery roles)