Ole PaulsonAuthor: The Rev. Ole Paulson

Translated by: Judge A.G. W. Anderson

What: Paulson recounts the early years (meaning the early, early years) of Carver, including his experiences homesteading farmland and serving in the Army during the Dakota Conflict.

Published: Excerpts from his 1907 book “Erindringer” were translated from Norwegian and reprinted in eight articles in the Herald in 1933, under the header “Early History of Nearby Vicinity.” This information is excerpted from column 3, “Off to the War,” published on March 9, 1933.

Who was he? Ole Paulson (sometimes called “Ola” and “Paulsen”) wrote his memoirs in his native tongue, Norwegian. Paulson was one of Carver’s early settlers and an original member of East Union Lutheran Church.

Context: Paulson, 31, didn’t head off for the Civil War after enlisting. Instead, he became part of a regiment that was sent to southwest Minnesota to suppress the Indian uprising, which culminated with his guard duty during the execution of 38 Dakota Indians in Mankato, the largest mass execution in U.S. history. “The Indian outbreak in the fall of 1862 came like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky,” Paulson wrote in a later column.

Wrapping it up: This is the third of three Chaska Obscura pieces featuring Paulson’s writing.

By Ole Paulson

The Civil War was at its height in 1862 … The army required more men. The president had plenty to choose from. In the month of June he made a call for 300,000 men, and in the month of August, a call for 300,000 more, 600,000 men in all during the summer and fall of 1862. We sang on our marches, “We are coming, father Abraham, 600,000 more.”

In July and August 1862, there was great excitement bordering on panic. Recruiting was going on in nearly every county over the whole land. The recruiting officers traveled around with drums and fifes in cities, villages and out in the country.

They drummed crowds together and speakers made fiery and appealing speeches to the young men, to arouse their patriotism and war fervor.

The situation on the battle front was not very bright, and the duty of every able-bodied man was to hasten to the aid of his bleeding country; to lay aside everything else and step into the ranks of our fighting brothers. The slackers could stay at home, or go to Canada, and there were quite a few that took to the woods and crossed the border to Queen Victoria’s dominion and there were some that crippled themselves by cutting off fingers or toes to avoid military service.

I knew one who, when he heard he had been drafted, went out in the backyard and put his foot on the chopping block and cut off one of his big toes and almost bled to death.

But so far they had not resorted to drafting; there were still volunteers, but 600,000 men is a large army to recruit. Was it really possible that such an enormous army of young men would voluntarily place themselves in the fighting ranks within such a short time, hardly six weeks? That was the hope.

It became a reality the 22nd of August, 1862 at midnight. The quota was full, there were 600,000 young men of all stations in society. The provocation was great. There were farmers, mechanics, merchants, lawyers, priests, and ministers. Students, young and old, had at the stroke of the clock, taken the oath of allegiance to take up arms in defense of their beloved country.

This is no doubt a very outstanding incident in the history of wars.

The outstanding legions, as stated, sang “We are coming, Father Abraham, 600,000 more.”

Two recruiting officers came to our settlement. William R. Baxter and Joseph Wiessmann, both attorneys. They came from the village of Chaska. One was an American, and the other was German. They gathered the people together at evening and gave speeches. Most of the Scandinavians could not understand English. These officers appealed to me to help them out. As I considered myself elected to stay at home on account of the fact that I was a theological student, it appeared to me that I could at least do that much for the defense of the country, so I went with them and made thundering speeches, appealing to their sense of duty and patriotism.

The result was that many of my friends, relatives, and neighbors enlisted. But, wait a minute, while I was talking to others, I was also taking to myself, and I too became smitten with the war fever. I was not going to let myself be caught. No, far from it. I was elected to stay at home.

The 22nd of August was the day set when the recruiting was to cease. The next morning the boys were to leave Carver by steamer to go to Fort Snelling to be mustered in. I began to feel a little quiver when I thought that so many of my warmest friends were to leave, and I wished to go to the village and bid farewell to the dear, departing ones. When I left in the evening, Mrs. Paulson said, “You are not going along to the war?”

“You know,” I answered, “that I’m elected to stay at home with you, my dear girl. I have greater ambitions than to be a warrior.”

I left with the intention to be back in a couple of hours. When I arrived at the village, there was excitement beyond description. The recruiting was going lively, but all at once it stopped. No more seemed to be inclined to go, the lacked 14 men of filling the company. There as almost that number standing around who were willing to go, providing I would go along. The most of those were sincere young men, members of the same congregation that I belonged to, namely Pastor Carlson’s. We stood there and argued for a long while. It was getting close to the time when the recruiting would stop, namely, 12 o’clock. I tried all manners of excuses.

“Wasn’t I elected to stay at home?” I appealed to their conscience as Christian men if it was right for me a theological student, to be a warrior.” I was determined to go back to school again in a month’s time. But it did not help. All my excuses were in vain. I could go just as well as they could, and it was my duty just as well as theirs to take up arms and save the country from defeat and ruin.

“Yes, but I’m due back at school in a month.”

“We will go down south and thresh the rebels. In a couple of months we will be back again, and you can go to school. What do you say to that?”

“I say I can’t go.”

“Listen to that, he is a slacker,” some said. “Here you have stood evening after evening, and preached to us that our duty was to hasten to our bleeding country’s aid and to help our brethren in the ranks. We acknowledge that you are right, and now we are ready to go, but we want you with us. You come with lame excuses. You are a slacker. You’re afraid.”

I must admit that my blood commenced to boil. I became angry. “Can I depend upon you. Will you all go if I go and take the oath?”

“You can,” was the unanimous answer.

“I don’t know if I can depend on you. If I go up and take the oath you must all come along and take the oath at the same time. What do you say to that? Are you ready?

“We are all ready. Hip, hip, hurrah!” Fifteen of us raised our hands and swore that we would be faithful to Uncle Sam until death. Many of those 15 are sleeping in southern soil. There I stood. I could not go home that evening and tell my wife that I had enlisted.

Did I find comfort in the step I had taken? I had a terrible night. My conscience bothered me and I was sick at heart. It appeared to me that I had rebelled against God and had fallen from Him because I had willingly exposed myself to temptation. There was a prayer to god from the depth of my soul. I realized that I had not sinned in taking the step. But it appeared to me that God had called me to preach the gospel. And now, with one move, I had cut the road that God had laid out for me. It was along time before peace came to my soul, and it was with this thought, “It must be the Lord’s will that I should not be a minister,” with that I found peace for my soul. We enlisted with the understanding that we were to have 14 days furlough after we had been to Fort Snelling and mustered in and organized a company.

Early the next morning we took the steamboat from Carver to Fort Snelling.