Solving the Case of the Missing Civil War Soldier: Thor Paulsen Sloan

Only one branch of my mother's Norwegian-American family arrived in the United States early enough to be involved in the Civil War.  Thor Paulsen Sloan (Slaaen) gave his life fighting in the Union Army.  He died on June 27, 1864, as a result of wounds acquired during the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, Georgia.  Sloan left the Gudbrandsdalen Valley, Oppland, Norway in 1856, along with his parents, Poul Torgeresen and Kari (Svensdatter) Slaaen, and his older brother, Torger Paulsen Slaaen.  The Slaaen Family settled in Coon Valley, Wisconsin, and owned 160 acres on Section 36, Town of Washington.  Thor, who farmed alongside his parents, was born in Nord-Fron, Oppland, Norway on May 20, 1834.  Described as 5 feet 8 inches tall, with blue eyes, dark hair, and a light complexion, he was known to be an intelligent and "quiet, honest, and conscientious man" who had beautiful handwriting. [Buslett, Fifteenth Wisconsin, p.361]



Sergeant Thor P. Sloan, ca. January 1862.

The beginning of the Civil War prompted Sloan to volunteer for military service.  Like many other Norwegian immigrants, he was prepared to give not just allegiance to his newly chosen country, but his life.  When Thor P. Slaaen enlisted for a three-year term in the Union Army on December 11, 1861, he began using an Americanized version of his name:  "Sloan."  At age 28, he was appointed to the rank of Sergeant in Company E of the 15th Wisconsin Regiment, known as the "Scandinavian Regiment."  The men of Company E referred to themselves as "Odin's Rifles."  Sloan spent three months in basic training at Camp Randall, leaving there in March 1862, to join the war with his regiment.  Until July 1863, military records list him as "present" with the 15th Wisconsin, participating in the siege of Island No. 10 on the Mississippi River in Tennessee,  the raid on Union City, Tennessee during the spring of 1862, the 400 mile retreat with General Buell to Louisville, Kentucky, and the Battle of Chaplin Hills at Perryville, Kentucky, and other events.

Thor P. Sloan in civilian clothing, ca. 1860.

The Battle of Murfreesboro in Tennessee, from December 1862 to January 1863--also called the battle of Stone River--brought the first serious casualties for the 15th Regiment. Sloan was taken prisoner during the battle, but he managed to escape soon after.  In a letter dated January 12, 1863, he wrote to his friend, Osten Rulland.  (Note: I have seen several translation versions of this letter from Norwegian to English; this version is printed in Waldemar Ager's Colonel Heg and His Boys.)

Dear Friend,

It is a long time now since I heard from you or sent you a letter.  First I must tell you that I am, thank God, hale and hearty as of this date.  Quite some time ago I heard that you had returned home and that you are in poor shape as to health.  This is very deplorable; but you can thank your lucky stars for having escaped the situation we are in.  What a life--what an existence!  And what miserable times and fierce struggles we have had to endure in storms and rough weather, both night and day.  And on top of this, the rations and supplies have generally been poor.  I can honestly say that I would care for neither gain nor anything else if I could only be out of the service, free and unfettered.  But there is no use talking.  a man must do his duty.

Briefly I also want to tell you that we have had a rather miserable Christmas, even though I, thank goodness, am in good health and ought to be satisfied.  But we have again endured much and seen many a human being mangled and in misery--all merely because of the politicians.

During the period from December 26 until January 4, I can say that we were lying with rifle in hand without any fire and at times with poor rations.  We took part in the battle at Knob Gap near Nolensville and later at Murfreesboro.  At Knob Gap we were very lucky as we did not lose a single man dead or wounded. But what a fix we were in at Murfreesboro where the enemy rushed at us by the thousands and showered us with bullets like a hailstorm.  It is a God's wonder that not everyone of us was shot down or taken prisoner, because we generally--when either the rebels or our force attacked--were bullheaded enough to stay to the very end.  On the last day of the fighting General Rosecrans said to our Brigadier General Carlin:  "If the troops in front of your brigade should fall back, then you must post your men and hold the enemy in check."  Carlin answered:  "I have only 800 men left of 2,000 and I fear that my men have lost courage and will do little now since they have always been in the front ranks."  To which Rosencrans replied:  "For the sake of the country, and for our own sake, you must do your best because your toops are now the only ones we can depend on."

At the time it did not matter because the rebels made no more attempts to pierce our line.  Our captain was killed and our lieutenant wounded.  Eleven men of my company were wounded.  Captain [Mons] Grinager was wounded, as was Captain Gustafson.  Lieutenant Fandberg and Captain Wilson were also wounded and Lieutenant Colonel McKee was killed.  All told we lost fifteen men killed, seventy wounded, and thirty-four missing--a total of 119 men.  Some of the wounded have later died.  There is fear of a renewed attack.

A sincere greeting to you and your parents as well as all my other acquaintances.  Best wishes to you.  If you are able to write, I hope you will send me a few words in return.

Thor P. Sloan

Sloan was appointed to the rank of 1st Sergeant of Company E on May 1, 1863, and in July, he was assigned as a clerk in the headquarters of Colonel Hans C. Heg's brigade.  On August 17, 1863, the brigade left Winchester, Tennessee to fight in the Chickamauga campaign, in which over half of the brigade's soldiers were killed, wounded, or taken prisoner.  Sloan survived and was detached from his regiment on November 18, 1863, to go on recruiting duty back in his home state of Wisconsin.  The break from battlefield action must have brought him a sense of relief beyond measure, but it was only temporary.

In March or April 1864, Sloan returned to his regiment and was commissioned as the First Lieutenant of Company E.  He then served with the 15th on Major General Sherman's effort to capture Atlanta, Georgia.  On June 21, during the battle of Kennesaw Mountain in Georgia, he was making coffee in camp along with Captain Gustafson and Lieutenant Simonsen.  An enemy grenade fell directly into the campfire and a fragment struck Sloan in the head.  He died in a nearby Army hospital in the town of Big Shanty a week later, on June 27, 1864.

Lt. Thor P. Sloan, like other casualties during the Civil War, was initially buried on his last battlefield--in this case, Kennesaw Mountain.  Following legislation enacted by Abraham Lincoln, the U. S. Government began to purchase land to create a system of National Cemeteries, in which to bury those who served in the military.  You can read more about it in this document:  History and Development of the National Cemetery Administration

It took some time to determine where Thor P. Sloan lies buried now.  In fact, it had been one of the biggest genealogy brick walls I had yet encountered.  Logic told me that Sloan was probably interred in a National Cemetery during the decades following the Civil War.  The likely location was Marietta National Cemetery in Georgia, which is closest to Kennesaw Mountain (Big Shanty, Georgia), and contains many burials of fatalities that occurred during the June 1864 battle.  But, no burial records anywhere revealed the ultimate resting place of Thor P. Sloan.  I was puzzled; it was unlikely that he was one of the many unidentified Civil War dead, since he died of his wounds while being treated in a hospital.

It was only recently that I tried yet another search on Ancestry.com.  This time, a search for variations of Sloan's name, including "T. P. Sloan" brought up a U. S. National interment document for "E. P. Sloan," who died on June 27, 1864, during the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain.  Aside from the first initial of the name, all of the facts were correct except for one glaring difference:  the document indicated that E. P. Sloan was from Company E of the 15th Ohio Regiment, whereas Thor P. Sloan served in the 15th Wisconsin Regiment.  When I checked the roster for the 15th Ohio Regiment, there was no "E. P. Sloan" listed.  I determined that the reason "Not Found" is written in red ink near the top of the document is because the name of the deceased could not be connected with the listed regiment.  But, allowing for the inevitable and frequent human errors that occur in record keeping, I suddenly knew who "E. P. Sloan" was.  He was most likely my ancestor, Thor Paulsen (T. P.) Sloan.  My brick wall had crumbled!

By consulting Findagrave.com, I was able to locate a photograph of "E. P. Sloan's" headstone at the Marietta National Cemetery in Cobb County, Georgia.  The headstone for Grave C2311 appears to be an exercise in cautious simplicity.  The interment record keepers could not verify "E. P. Sloan's" regiment, so they must have decided to leave everything off the marker but the name.  The marker looks decidedly stark and incomplete... lonely, in fact.

Thor P. Sloan's contributions to the Union Army's efforts are well documented in various Civil War records, as well as in books about the history of the 15th Wisconsin Regiment.  However, I find it ironic that, in death, Sloan's final resting place became somewhat of an enigma.  It leaves me wondering if any relative before me discovered the record-keeping error made during interment to Marietta National Cemetery.  I doubt that Sloan's immediate family would have been any wiser, because his father, mother, and brother only lived long enough to know Thor to be resting alongside the battlefield where he met his demise.  The interment of Sloan's remains in a National Cemetery seems to have occurred well after the deaths of the immediate family members.  In any case, it is unlikely that these early Coon Valley, Wisconsin farmers would have been able to make a trip to far-away Georgia to assess things for themselves.

Even more ironic than the confusion surrounding Sloan's final resting place, is that a man in determined service of his new host country could have endured so much and met such an unexpected demise.  After several years of constant horrors in primitive battle, suffering imprisonment and daily cold, hunger, and other discomforts, he died of wounds received while sitting over a coffee pot, just a few months shy of the completion of his tour of duty.

Such are the lessons of history, and of the unfairness of life.



The Family of Thor Paulsen Sloan:

Thor P. Sloan was a younger half-brother to my great great grandfather, Hans Thorsen Sloan (Slaaen).  Thor had one full sibling--also a brother:  Torger Paulsen Slaaen was born in Nord-Fron, Oppland, Norway on October 13, 1831.  Like his brother, Torger also served in the Civil War, which he survived.  He married Kari Engebretsen and had two children, Mari and Peter.  His wife, Kari, died in 1859, and Torger was married for a second time in 1863 to Sophia Pedersen Stroemstad.  They had four children:  Caroline, Karen, Theodor, and Julius.  When Torger died in 1890, he was buried in the Upper Coon Valley Cemetery in Wisconsin.

Thor P. Sloan's father, Poul (Paul) Torgersen Slaaen--the son of Torger Hougen--was born in Nord-Fron, Oppland, Norway on January 14, 1806. He died on January 22, 1882.   His wife, Kari (Svensdatter), was born on November 6, 1800 in Oppland, Norway and died on October 29, 1890.  Both husband and wife are buried in the Upper Coon Valley Cemetery (Wisconsin), some 800 miles apart from their fallen son, Thor.  Kari's headstone is pictured here (photos courtesy of Kevin Sloane of the Coon Valley area).

*************************
Sources:

--Ancestry.com (U. S. National Cemetery Interment Control Forms, 1928-1962)
--15th Wisconsin.net (http:www/15thwisconsin.net/15etps01.htm), accessed on March 31, 2008.
--Buslett, Ole Amundson.  Fifteenth Wisconsin (translation by Barbara G. Scott).  Ripon, Wis.:  B.G.Scott, 1999.
--Familysearch.com (Norway, Baptisms, 1634-1927)
--Findagrave.com (Grave of E. P. Sloan, Marietta National Cemetery, Cobb County, Georgia)
--Holand, Hjalmar R.  Coon Valley: An Historical Account of the Norwegian Congregations in Coon Valley.  Minneapolis, Minn.:  Augsburg Publishing House, 1928.
--Slaeen, Kari Svensdatter, photograph of headstone at Coon Valley Cemetery, Wisconsin, courtesy of Kevin Sloane of Viroqua, Wisconsin, October 2012.
--Sloan, Thor Paulsen, photograph:  courtesy of Dale and Lois Finch of Brainerd, Minnesota, July 2005.
--U. S. National Archives & Records Administration, Military Service Records, Union Civil War (1861-1865), Thor Paulsen Sloan.
--Waldemar Ager.  Colonel Heg and His Boys: A Norwegian Regiment in the American Civil War.  Northfield, Minnesota:  The Norwegian-American Historical Association, 2000.

Little Church in Upper Coon Valley--A Family Icon

In 1841, Gulbrand Gunderson Skaret and his family from Sigdal, in eastern Norway, became the first white settlers in Coon Valley, Wisconsin. Sadly, this first immigrant family did not fare very well, suffering the hardships of wilderness and isolation, and death from Asiatic cholera after ten years of working the land. It would not be until the end of the decade that other Norwegians began to find some success in Coon Valley, and immigration to the area began in earnest. After a heavy period of settlement from 1852-54, almost all the well-situated and valuable land was spoken for.

It is no surprise why early Norwegian immigrants clustered around the welcoming scenery in Coon Valley, Wisconsin. According to many who lived in the valley, which lies a few miles south east of La Crosse, Wisconsin, there is scarcely found a more quiet, pleasant and secluded place. The surrounding wooded ridges, about 500 feet high, act as a protective wall around the entire valley, providing a sense of peace, security, and even coziness. The valley is about 25 miles in length, with numerous branch valleys, but it feels like everyone belongs to the same neighborhood with similar conditions and interests.[1]

The vast majority of early settlers in Coon Valley were poor. My immigrant ancestors were no exception. Women were expected to work exceptionally hard at all sorts of different tasks, so it is no wonder that Norwegian immigrant women often looked older than their years. They were expected to do all of the housekeeping and food preparation. They also had to spin, knit, weave, and sew inbetween heavier tasks, maintain the barn(s), bind wheat together during harvests, and engage in child rearing and holiday preparation.

Several branches of my mother's Norwegian family settled in Upper Coon Valley after coming to America. The first of my ancestors to arrive was the Slaaen family. Soon after, they adopted an Americanized version of their name: "Sloan." A pioneer biography for Hans Thorsen Slaaen, my great great grandfather, is included among others for the Upper Coon Valley during this early period of settlement (when the biographer writes that Hans T. Slaaen "moved west" from Coon Valley, Wisconsin, he meant only as far as Chippewa County, Minnesota):

Hans Thorsen Slaaen was born in Nordre Fron, Gudbrandsdalen, Norway, the son of Thor and Kari Slaaen. He emigrated to America in 1853, and settled in Coon Valley on Section 36, Town of Washington, La Cross County, in 1858, where he owned 160 acres. In 1851 [Norway] he was married to Anne Thorsdatter Vaterland, with whom he had the following children: Thor, Mathia, Karen, Thorwald, John, and Maria. Hans T Slaaen moved west, and died there.[2]



The Hans Thorsen Slaaen family. (Left to right), back row:  Karen, Thorwald (?), John (?), and Anne Marie (my great grandmother); front row:  Thor, Hans, Anne, and Mathia.  Photo ca. 1890, probably Chippewa County, Minnesota.

The Slaaens, like most of their fellow Norwegian immigrants, were devoted Lutherans. Originally, there was only one congregation in the whole of Coon Valley. In 1859, some members withdrew and built their own church in Lower Coon Valley, while a third was built in the Upper Valley at about the same time. The first Upper Coon Valley church that the Slaaens attended, pictured below, was in the cemetery opposite the later (1928 era) church, which was situated on an acre of land purchased from Christopher Hansen for the sum of $6.00.[3]

Although the old church was not large or costly, it took twelve years before it was ready. During the Civil War years times were particularly difficult, although the minister's wages were relatively high for the number of worship services the congregation received.[4]

"The Old Church in Upper Coon Valley"--the original Coon Valley Church was a log cabin.  This photo of an early painting was taken in the 1980s by Kristie Formolo, when she spotted it hanging on a basement wall during a tour of the current Coon Valley Church.

Norwegian immigrants depended upon the Lutheran church, not only for matters of faith, but also for security, community, and socialization outside of their day to day labors. Churches such as this one were the core of the early Norwegian-American experience, creating stability and offering support, promoting neighborliness, and making it possible for neighboring families to come to know one another well. With the help of the church, the Norwegian immigrant cluster in the familiar yet foreign landscape of Coon Valley resulted in the mingling and marriages between families from many parts of Norway. The rest is, well... family history!


[1] Holand, Hjalmar R.. Coon Valley: An Historical Account of the Norwegian Congregations in Coon Valley (Written for the 75th Anniversary of the Congregation in 1928). Augsburg Publishing House: La Crosse, Wisconsin, 1928, p.10.
[2] Holand, p.193.
[3] Holand, p.93.

[4] Holand, p.98.

"Another Troll in the Pigpen" & Other Tales of Norwegian Pioneer Women Resolve

It was a daily certainty that early immigrant settlers in the Upper Midwest encountered challenge and hard work. Women were expected to not only raise children and provide shelter and sustenance for their families, but to tend livestock, work in the fields, and sometimes, respond to a crisis.

The Slaaen (Sloan) and Vaterland branches of my mother's Norwegian family first settled in Coon Valley, Wisconsin upon arriving in America in the 1850s. Twenty-five miles long, Coon Valley lies a few miles southeast of La Crosse, Wisconsin. It was originally an area of small, thin woods surrounded by hills and ridges. Settlers from Norway were initially attracted to the area because of its cozy appearance, but also because of the creek which ran through it. Forest fires started a rich growth of grass which turned Coon Valley into a lush feeding ground for many species of wildlife. Norwegian immigrant men were good hunters and adequate protectors of their families, but once in awhile, there was an emergency requiring intervention by their women folk. When the emergency involved protecting precious winter food stores--these pioneer women took it quite personally.

From among the stories about the earliest settlers in Coon Valley, Wisconsin during the mid-19th century are some tales of exceptional female bravery and resolve.

A RELUCTANT HUSBAND

One autumn morning, Gunhild Maurstad started outside to get a piece of pork from the lean-to storage room outside the cabin. As she opened the door to the cabin, she stopped suddenly. She slammed the door shut and turned toward her husband, Johannes, who had just finished lighting his pipe.

"Nei [no], things are going too far now. A big bear is standing in there and rummaging in the pork barrel! Let the dog out!"

Johannes gazed cautiously at the door. Yes, indeed! there stood the brute with his head down in the pork barrel gorging himself with all his might. The dog had also awakened now and ran barking toward the door, but Johannes grasped him by his collar.

"Let the dog out!" shouted Gunhild again.

No, Johannes thought the bear might harm the dog.

"Ja, but think of the pork; we cannot let that troll eat up our winter food." With that, Gunhild took a burning piece of wood, opened the door a little bit, and threw the burning stick at the bear. This was an unexpected attack, and the frightened bear rushed out the door and down the hill. Gunhild stood there quite satisfied and content, looking at her departing enemy; but her happiness did not last long. Just below the house was an enclosure, where a pig had just raised himself on his legs and was smelling around for something to eat for breakfast. The bear tore down the enclosure instantly, grasped the pig with it front paws, and rushed away with it.

"Nei, have you ever seen anything so awful? There goes the bear with the sow, too. Let the dog out, Johannes!"

"Nei!" Johannes feared that the bear would hurt the dog.

"Ja, but get your gun then , and shoot the bear. We cannot lose the sow."

Nei, Johannes was afraid of shooting, for he might kill the sow.

"Ja, ja, but the sow must be saved. Hei, pup, sick 'em! Get the troll!" With that, Gunhild gave the dog an enormous kick in the rear end, so the dog almost pulled Johannes down as he started after the bear.

It took just a moment for the dog to get a good hold of the bear's little tail, and since the bear's tail is a sensitive area, the bear released the pig which ran away howling loudly. The bear jumped and danced wildly while he tried to get a hold of his lively adversary.

"Get your gun now and shoot. Then we will be done with him," shouted Gundhild.

But, nei, Johannes was afraid he might wound the dog.

Finally, the bear became tired of this dancing around and lumbered away up the hillside, pursued by his brave canine adversary.

After Johannes had finished his usual helping of coffee, lefse, and cheese, he went after a neighbor to get help in tracking down the bear. Despite many hours searching, the pair was unsuccessful.

If Gunhild had gone after the bear with her wooden ladle, it is quite possible that she could have returned with a bearskin. These pioneer women were not to be taken lightly when they took charge.

Another example of Norwegian pioneer women pluckiness is the story about Roennoeg Sandbakken's encounter with a bear.

ANOTHER TROLL IN THE PIGPEN

Thor Sandbakken was away from his farm one day, when his wife, Roennoeg, noticed that a strange and big animal has broken into their livestock pen and grabbed their only pig. The pig had to be saved above all else because it represented most of the Sandbakken's winter food stores. Instinctively, Roenneog ran to the woodpile and grabbed a piece of oakroot to hurl at the menacing invader in the pigpen.

Struck in the backbone, the animal was so startled that it dropped the pig. At the same time, Roennoeg hurriedly grabbed a pitchfork and stabbed the attacker in its side. She yelled: "Will you get going, you ugly thing?"

The big animal raised up to a great height on its hind legs, and she saw that it was a bear. It opened its mouth wide enough that it could easily have swallowed a pig whole. Then, the bear gave out a tremendous roar and started for Roennoeg. She let out such a shrill yell that it echoed on all ridges surrounding Coon Valley, and then she took flight. The bear was so frightened by the woman's scream that it took to the woods in the opposite direction.

Everything would have ended happily if the pig had only acted sensibly. Instead of gratefully crawling back into the peace and quiet of the straw pile and sleeping off its fright, the pig became so bewildered that it took off on the heels of the bear and was never seen again...

Finally, there is Helge Gulbrandsen, one of the very first Coon Valley settlers, who saved her livestock from certain death because of her command of folk medicine.

CHICKEN IS GOOD FOR WHAT AILS YOU

Helge Gulbrandsen was out in the field breaking land when her husband, Ole, came sauntering out to see how the plowing was coming along...

Just then one ox jumped suddenly into the air, and Helge saw a rattlesnake shoot out of the grass and bite the ox on the leg. Helge yelled instantly to Ole, who was watching at a distance, that Ole should run to the barn and get a live hen, an ax, and a sack or a rag. Ole did as Helge said, and Helge grabbed the hen and chopped it into two pieces. Then [she] placed the two parts of the hen on the leg of the ox, and bound it tight with rags made from a sack. Two days later Helge took the binding off. The chicken meat had drawn the poison out of the [ox's leg], and the ox was well again.

Source: Holand, Hjalmer R. Coon Valley: An Historical Account of the Norwegian Congregations in Coon Valley. Minneapolis, Minnesota: Augsburg Publishing House, 1928, pp. 33-35.