 |
| 1st Minnesota Monument at Gettysburg (photograph courtesy of Bill Rogers) |
This year marks the 162nd anniversary of the conclusion of the pivotal three-day battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1863—a defining moment in the War of the Rebellion.
In tribute, I unearthed a fascinating old newspaper article from the “Oliver Towne Column” in the Minneapolis Star and Tribune, dated July 3, 1963—the centennial of that historic struggle.
Titled “Little Known – Nor Forgotten,” the column poignantly begins:
He lies under the protective arms of a lofty old oak tree, in a tiny plot to the left as you drive into Oakland cemetery. The words on the spear-shaped monument, which have endured a century’s weather are faintly legible: Wilson B. Farrell, Captain, Co. C, 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry.
Farrell - described as “the only known 1st Minnesotan who fell at Gettysburg to be buried in St. Paul [MN]” - is a name that, as Towne wrote, “has all but dissolved in destiny’s dust.”
In Biblical literature, "dust" is a term rich with symbolism. It evokes mortality, humility, and the fleeting nature of human life, but it also holds a message of hope and renewal. In the prophetic vision of Daniel 12:2 - "And many who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake..." - the dust becomes a symbol of resurrection and the divine promise to transform death into destiny.
Farrell’s life and era reflected that spirit. It was a time when Manifest Destiny and personal destiny often collided. At age 26, he moved from Kentucky to help settle the Minnesota Territory in 1855 and later made his home in St. Paul as a bookkeeper for Napolean J. T. Dana - the man who would become the third colonel of the 1st Minnesota Infantry Regiment.
Farrell found love at a local church, marrying Mary soon after meeting her. Tragically, just a year and a half later, he buried her in the cemetery behind that same church where they met.
Grief and loneliness shadowed him, but the thunderous “drum choir” of war provided a path forward. On August 8, 1861, Farrell answered the call to arms by enlisting in the St. Paul Volunteers—later Company C of the 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment.
The journey of the 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment to Gettysburg stands as a powerful tale of grit and sacrifice. From the chaos of First Bull Run and the grueling trials of the Peninsula Campaign to the bloodshed at Fredericksburg and the missteps at Chancellorsville, the regiment fought across countless battlefields. Yet, it was in that small Pennsylvania town during July 1863 that Farrell and the 1st Minnesota met their destiny and etched their names forever into history.
On the evening of July 2, as Confederate General Wilcox’s Alabama Brigade threatened to crush the Union line, the 1st Minnesota was called into action. General Hancock, faced with a desperate situation, and no other organized troops nearby, pointed to the advancing Confederates and gave the Minnesotans a simple but fateful order: “Take those colors!”
Without hesitation, the men of the 1st Minnesota charged across 200 yards of open ground, outnumbered five to one. In mere minutes, over 170 of their 300 men fell, either killed or wounded, as they slammed into the Confederate forces, halting their advance. The survivors, battered but unbroken, returned to their original position, having bought precious time for Union forces to regroup.
The regiment’s sacrifices did not end there. On July 3, as Pickett’s men mounted their infamous charge against Cemetery Ridge, the 1st Minnesota again played a critical role. Joining Webb’s Brigade in the counterattack, they helped repel the assault and captured a Confederate flag. Yet victory came at an incredible cost—17 more of their men fell, including their brave leader, Captain Nathan Messick.
Command then passed to Captain Wilson B. Farrell, the man whose journey had brought him from Kentucky to Minnesota’s frontier and then into the heart of America’s greatest conflict. Farrell led the regiment in its final moments of the battle but was grievously wounded during the counterattack. He survived the night but succumbed to his injuries on July 4, 1863, as the North celebrated its victories and independence.
The legacy of the 1st Minnesota was one of extraordinary devotion to duty. Entering Gettysburg with 420 men, 330 of them were engaged in the pivotal days of battle. By the end, 232 had fallen, marking one of the highest casualty rates for any regiment at Gettysburg. Among their number, Wilson Farrell’s sacrifice stood as a symbol of selfless courage and unyielding resolve.
As Adjutant Lockren wrote in his report, “Capt. W.B. Farrell, Company C, was mortally wounded and died last night.” His passing closed the chapter of his life, but his story—woven into the destiny of the 1st Minnesota—endures as part of the dust of history that defines the sacrifices of the Civil War.
It was not long afterward that the captain was brought back to Oakland cemetery. No one knows why - unless it was because his wife, Mary, was there. And that is where the story of Captain Wilson B. Farrell ends. On a rise of lawn, 100 years and 1000 miles later.
Farrell's story—one of love, devotion, and sacrifice for a cause—is a connection that transcends time. The hardships he endured remain as relevant now as they were then, and the duty he accepted to save his fractured nation helped shape the course of destiny.
Towne’s phrase “destiny’s dust” is poetic and layered with meaning, evoking the passage of time and the fading of once-significant lives and events into obscurity. It suggests that no matter how pivotal someone’s role or how great an event may have been—like Farrell’s sacrifice and Gettysburg—history eventually settles over them like dust, burying their names beneath the weight of time.
It also speaks to the inevitability of forgetting, despite efforts to preserve memory. Farrell may have fought in one of the most crucial battles of the Civil War, yet his decision (or circumstance) to lie in the quiet anonymity in Minneapolis rather than among the honored dead at Gettysburg. Whether intentional or not, his name - once spoken with reverence - has faded from mainstream historical memory, dissolving into destiny’s dust.
There, however, is the bittersweet irony in Towne’s words—Farrell is little known, yet he’s not entirely forgotten. His name has faded from mainstream history, but for those of us who uncover his story, he still lingers in memory. It makes me wonder: If he had been buried at Gettysburg, would his name truly be remembered in a meaningful way? Or would he simply be one among thousands, another inscription lost to time?
In some ways, Towne was right—though dust may settle, a determined historian can always brush it away, "It's not so far from Gettysburg to Oakland Cemetery—and beyond."
The Civil War was a patchwork of torn loyalties, whispered dreams, and strange events—those forgotten moments, people, and stories that shaped a nation. This was one of them.
Mac
═══ ⚔ 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒔 ⚑ ═══
Please comment and share!
Works Cited
[1] Hiebert, Gareth (writing as Oliver Towne). “Oliver Towne Column – ‘Little Known – Nor Forgotten!‘” Minneapolis Star and Tribune – July 3, 1963.
[2] Holcombe, R.I. Searles, Jasper Newton, Taylor, Mathew F. (1916). History of the First Regiment Minnesota Volunteer Infantry, 1861-1864. Stillwater, MN : Easton & Masterman, printers. pp. 371-373.
No comments:
Post a Comment