Physical stamina and unflinching courage were requisite qualities of a good color-bearer. One former soldier described another vital attribute: “I resolved my very best to be a leader—for a good color-bearer must at times be that regardless of personal consequences.”

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Remarkably the color-bearer did not carry a weapon. His protection, and that of his flag, were the sole responsibility of the color guard, which usually ranged in size from two to nine men. Like the bearer, these soldiers were chosen for their bravery and steadiness. If the color-sergeant was shot down, a member of his escort immediately picked up the standard. Since flags were the focal point of 19th-century combat, the casualty rate of the color party and the companies in the closest proximity to it was often extremely high.

Because of a stand of colors’ vital function and its emotional appeal, losing one was considered a terrible disgrace. As a result, Civil War soldiers often resorted to drastic measures to save their flags from being seized, exposing themselves to great risk of death, injury or capture.

At Gettysburg the men who advanced the colors found themselves embroiled in some of the fiercest fighting of the three-day conflict. Some of these incidents have become legendary, such as the story of Color-Sergeant Benjamin Crippen of the 143rd Pennsylvania defiantly shaking his fist at swarming Southern soldiers before falling dead in the folds of his flag. Many other dramatic incidents, however, have been relegated to obscurity. The following stories are drawn from four small-unit actions that occurred across different days and sectors of the battlefield.

The 147th New York vs. the 55th North Carolina

Early on the morning of July 1, 1863, the advance elements of the Army of the Potomac and the Army of Northern Virginia collided outside Gettysburg. Both sides rushed reinforcements to the scene, and the fighting escalated. The Union I Corps defended the western approach to the town. Confederate troops from A.P. Hill’s and Richard Ewell’s corps converged upon the area from the west, north and northeast.

As part of Brig. Gen. Lysander Cutler’s brigade, the 147th New York was among the first Union infantry regiments to arrive. Near the McPherson farm, the 380 New Yorkers crossed the Chambersburg Pike and formed up near the bed of an unfinished railroad cut. Recruited in Oswego County the previous summer, “The Plowboys” of the 147th had yet to experience major combat.

Soon after taking position, the 147th and two sister regiments engaged in a sharp fight with a Confederate brigade commanded by Brig. Gen. Joseph Davis, a nephew of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. The 55th North Carolina worked its way around the right flank of the Union line and poured in a murderous fire. To avert disaster, orders were sent forward directing the troops to fall back to a more secure position. The commander of the 147th was severely wounded before he could transmit the command to his men. As a result, the New Yorkers stood alone against three Confederate regiments.

“The fight was fierce and hot,” recalled Lieutenant J. Volney Pierce, “the boys… were falling like autumn leaves; the air was full of lead.” Finally, after a half-hour of this unequal contest, a courier rode into the maelstrom and delivered the retreat order.

The men rose up and dashed eastward through the open fields and along the railroad cut. Color-Sergeant John Hinchcliff, whom a fellow soldier described as “a Swede, six feet two, fair haired, blue eyed,” offered a conspicuous target as he attempted to escape with the flag. He was struck by several bullets and killed instantly. Sergeant William Wybourn, known as “a brave Irish lad,” rushed back and pulled the blood-soaked standard from underneath Hinchcliff’s lifeless body.

Lieutenant Pierce narrated the remarkable conclusion of the incident: “I climbed up the rocky face of the cut, on the south side, and made my way with many of our men across the meadow between the railroad cut and the Chambersburg Pike, crossed the pike into a small peach orchard, and I overtook the colors in the hands of Sergeant William A. Wyb[o]urn. Just as I joined him he received a shot, and fell on the colors as if dead. I tried to remove the colors, but he held to them with true Irish grit. I commanded him to let go, and to my surprise he answered, ‘Hold on, I will be up in a minute,’ rolled over and staggered to his feet and carried them all through the fight, and was commissioned for his courage.”

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