Saluting a hero of yesterday -- and today

It took 145 years, but Civil War hero John Densmore finally got his due Wednesday.

"He went through 15 minutes of hell, barely survived and suffered for it the rest of his life," says Jeff Williams, a Maplewood resident and Iraq War veteran who helped organize a graveside tribute to Densmore in a Stillwater cemetery Wednesday night.

"In a lot of ways, John Densmore was like the brave kids of today who go off to war and come home wounded. We want to salute and remember his connection to a historic event, and to our events of today."

Densmore was a 20-year-old lumberjack working on the white pine booms along the St. Croix River when the Civil War began in 1861. The 3-year-old state of Minnesota was among the first in the Union to raise troops for the fight. He joined the Stillwater Guard, a militia that became Company B of the First Minnesota Volunteers, a legendary outfit that fought throughout the war. On the second day of July, 1863, the First Minnesota was devastated at Gettysburg, where the regiment made a heroic charge to keep Confederate troops from breaking through the Union lines.

Incredibly -- considering the wounds he sustained that day --Densmore lived to tell the tale.

It is a tale for any July 4th, a story of bravery under fire while carrying the Stars and Stripes -- a story that should not be forgotten, in the words of one Civil War song, as long as valor and fame hold communion.

The First Minnesota arrived late at Gettysburg, coming to the field after a long march on the second day of the three-day battle. Just in time, as it turned out, to be tossed into a desperate attempt to buy time. In minutes, the Minnesotans had stopped the rebel advance, but paid one of the bloodiest prices of the entire war: Of the 262 men in the charge, 215 were wounded or killed.

It's an epic tale that, almost a century and a half later, still inspires Minnesotans. Wednesday night, one of the many who fell on the battlefield was remembered with a rededication ceremony at his grave, lost for too long.

Densmore, a corporal in the color guard, was the last of three flagbearers who were wounded, one after another, in the attack. The flag was first carried by Sgt. Ellet Perkins. When Perkins was wounded in the leg, the flag was taken up next by John Stevens, who was soon wounded, too. Now it was Densmore's turn. He carried it forward until a tremendous volley of Confederate shots -- most aimed at the flag -- struck him down.

If you could stop the advance of the opponent's flag, the theory was, you could stop the opponent. Densmore was hit four times in the volley, as the Confederates concentrated their fire on the flagbearer: The hand, the leg, the chest and -- most terribly -- in the face, where a bullet tore away much of his lower jaw.

Densmore was thought to be mortally wounded, and was left behind to die in Gettysburg when the army moved on. Remarkably, he made a slow recovery and had the ball removed from his jaw in early 1864. He returned to duty that spring, and eventually was mustered out of the army as a sergeant.

He went home to Stillwater where, despite his disabilities, he married, fathered two children and lived on a small pension until 1879. Some say he finally succumbed to his wounds. Others say he had a seizure.

Whatever the exact cause of death, it's hard to ignore the timing: Densmore died July 5, 1879, right after observing the 16th anniversary of Gettysburg, and the day after the Fourth of July, the holiday with which news of the Union victory became entwined. He was buried in Fairview cemetery in Stillwater and faded into history.

The exact location of his grave was a mystery until Civil War reenactors stumbled upon it last fall and decided it was time John Densmore was honored.

So on the 145th anniversary of the night that Densmore lay, grievously wounded, in the dark at Gettysburg, a small group gathered to praise Densmore, sound taps in his honor and re-dedicate his freshly decorated grave. According to Jeff Williams, it was about time.

"We thought it was important to honor one of our own heroes from that time," says Williams, who usually portrays a chaplain when he is wearing a Civil War re-enactor's uniform. "We consider ourselves to be the living embodiment of those who went before, and we want to keep their story alive."

Mission accomplished.

Nick Coleman • 612-673-4400 ncoleman@startribune.com