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Subject: Diary of Elisabeth Koren - 86-96
Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2003 09:38:44 -0700
Acknowledgment
The following selection is taken from "The Diary of Elisabeth Koren"
translated and edited by David T. Nelson and published by the
Norwegian-American Historical Association (NAHA) in 1955. The Volume is
still in print and available from NAHA at http://www.naha.stolaf.edu
where you will also find the first 33 volumes of Studies and Records
online as well as Theodore C. Blegen's 2 volumes on Norwegian Migration
to America. This chapter is published with the kind permission of NAHA.
The book this selection is drawn from is under copyright and permission
has been granted for educational purposes and it is not to be used in any
way for commercial purposes.
Sunday morning Preus came over again, Lars a little later. There was the
same talk back and forth; an American was brought in who would drive us,
but he was so unreasonable in his demands that even Lars considered that
arrangement out of the question. "You will have to drive them yourself,"
said Preus once more to Lars, and with that it was settled, to my great
relief; I was so reluctant to give him up. His dear horse had eaten a
little in the morning. This gave him more courage, and people who
understood such matters believed there was no danger. Meanwhile, with all
this talk the forenoon was far advanced, so we had to hurry away. We then
took leave of Preus, who had been so friendly and helpful to us. He
packed me in well, we nodded to the friendly Birgitte, who stood with her
little child at the window, and drove away across the prairies, where
there was scarcely a house to be seen.
It was cold and raw; V. jumped down often, Lars, too. I sat in the wagon
and laughed to see them running, each on his side of the wagon, V. in his
raincoat, sou'wester, and great sea boots, Lars hobbling along with his
cap down over his face. Not until we reached Wingville did we see any
trees. {12} That little place lies beautifully in a narrow, heavily
overgrown valley. It was past noon when we arrived there. Lars went in to
find out how far it was to a tavern. Ten miles to one in a wood, fifteen
to a second one, was the answer. We asked several whom we met the same
question and always got different answers, so we were just as wise as
before and simply had to hurry as much as we could to reach a destination
while it was light. The horse was doing very well; he was as frisky as
ever.
We had no sooner left the valley of Wingville when we again saw endless
prairies before us, and not a house nor a tree. On one of these prairies
we had our midday meal. There was a roast quail for each of us, on which
we gnawed; the meat was delicious, but our fingers froze and we could not
eat the bread and butter which went with it. Lars took his quail at last,
too, not without much coaxing; he was always reluctant to deprive us of
any of our provisions. Afterwards, we ate candy. Vilhelm was almost over
his cold.
The ten miles to the house in the wood seemed never to end. V. was quite
convinced that what he saw on the horizon was a house. Yes, we thought
so, too, but then discovered a gleam of light some distance from the road
on the left side. Lars went in and came back and said it was a tavern,
and he thought it would be sensible to stop overnight there. Therefore we
drove in; but it turned out to consist of only one room; so, after some
deliberation, we decided we would rather drive five miles farther and get
a decent room.
Miles become twice as long in the evening and so they seemed now. We had
no idea about the road, and drove with the stars as our guides until we
reached a house where Lars again went in and came back, quite aghast at
how filthy and horrid it was. We were on the right road and would soon
reach the tavern, he had been told. So it turned out, and we were glad to
get into a warm, orderly room and take off our many wraps. We found a
long table set in a large side room, which was likewise the kitchen,
where an elderly widow, proprietress of the house, was supervising two
young girls preparing food. The other persons in the room were a young
couple with two handsome children, with whom Vilhelm amused himself and
to whom he gave candy. They, too, were going to Iowa, but to a different
part than we.
Then Lars and we had something to eat and enjoyed it heartily. As I was
tired and wished to see our bedchamber, the landlady took her candle and
accompanied us upstairs to a little room. There stood a bed with its
right foot against the window, taking up all the space except a
passageway just large enough for a little chest and two persons (that is
to say, when they did not move about). On the wall hung the girls'
starched muslin dresses; there was no chair, no washstand, and what was
worse, no stove, so that it was icy cold --- and we had been looking
forward with joy to a good, warm room after the cold day! That cubbyhole
and a similar one about a foot wider were the only ones we had to choose
from. The large warm one below, the farmer's family was to have, for they
had come first, and having small children, no doubt needed it, too.
My desire to get to bed subsided as I looked at that cold room; so I went
down and sat near the stove and talked with the landlady, who brought out
her clay pipe and began to smoke. Remarkably enough, neither she nor the
girls were especially inquisitive, garrulous as they otherwise were.
Never have I experienced anything so cold as that night; it was as if we
were lying out under the open sky; and then, too, it was one of the
coldest nights that winter. I was not tempted to sleep late in the
morning, and was glad to get on some clothes and complete my toilet
downstairs, where it was comfortable and warm, and pleasant to see the
preparations for a good breakfast. No one had come in yet; the hour was
only five-thirty. It was past seven, however, before I got all my
numerous shawls tied up in front of my nose and mouth and Lars was ready
to drive.
It was a cold day. The sun was shining brightly, however, and warmed us a
little as we drove through the valley which leads away from the house. We
had driven a good mile along the way when I discovered I had forgotten my
umbrella. Lars went back, and we prepared ourselves for a good long wait,
for we knew his slowness. Vilhelm was not able to go in his place, for he
had put on his raincoat and it had now frozen quite stiff, and crackled
and cracked with every movement. He was annoyed because of this, and
because I had been so idiotic as to persuade him to put it on. Who,
indeed, could have imagined that the miserable raincoat would have caused
so much bother? After much trouble, and some damage to the coat, he
finally succeeded in getting down and walking back and forth a little
until Lars at last came puffing along with the umbrella.
And it was well we got it. Our road lay over prairies all the way, with a
frosty wind so fierce and biting that I do not know how we would have
fared if we had not had the large umbrella to protect us; but under it we
sat fairly warm and cozy until we came to a narrow, thickly overgrown
valley, and were able to tell, because the prairie had disappeared, that
we were approaching the Wisconsin River. Lars explained to me what kind
of trees we were passing, and I exerted myself to look at them from under
the umbrella and the scarf on my forehead. Vilhelm got down, leaving the
umbrella to me, and was far behind most of the time.
The road, which of course was bad after we left the prairie, now became
quite impossible. The wagon tilted far to one side, with two wheels
almost in the air. I had to lie crosswise in it and had plenty of trouble
holding myself in and seeing that the umbrella did not become enmeshed in
the wheel or entangled in the stuff that lay in the back. Thus it went,
now up, now down, in fairly deep snow over a hill. On one side the ground
sloped precipitously upward, on the other abruptly down into the valley.
To make things even worse, the scarf on my forehead slipped down so I
could not see, and I dared not speak to Lars for fear of distracting him
from minding the horses. I sat there, half laughing and half crying, as
patiently as I could, and prepared for an upset at any moment. Lars,
however, brought his horses safely over the difficult place, V. came up
soon afterward and freed me from my clothes and from the umbrella, which
was not needed in the valley, and restored me to balance, for I had been
so stiffened with coats and shawls that I lay where I lay.
We were now able to laugh at my tragicomical account of my misfortune (I
wish that someone could have sketched it), of which Vilhelm naturally had
had no conception because he was walking far behind, deep in
contemplation of the marvelous valley, which now held all my attention,
too. It was wild and primitive. It did not look as if the sound of an ax
had ever echoed among the old oaks, which stood in picturesque groups
interspersed with saplings --- some bowed down, others thrown upon each
other by the wind, still others half dead, embraced by fresh vines which
at times had quite overrun and covered old dead trunks that long since
had lost their crowns. There were some wild fruit trees and thickets
round about; it must be beautiful when the leaves are light green and the
fruit trees in bloom.
The valley broadened, the trees thinned out, and now we were surrounded
by grassy heights with a tree here and there; and alongside these heights
from time to time cliffs jutted out in wonderful, fairyland formations
--- at times, indeed, whole barricades and fortifications. These strange
bluffs, which V. with great difficulty enabled me to see by turning my
wrapped-up head around, continued all the way until we were quite near
the river. Then the valley opened up and sloped very gently down to the
water. Here we were again surrounded by woods on both sides, with the
remarkable bluffs at the back.
We drove down to the ferry and found the river, as we feared, full of
drift ice, and saw no possibility of getting across with horses. We then
had to drive back to another road, said to lead to the upper ferry; here
the horses were unhitched and tied to the front of the wagon, in which
oats were placed for them. V. and Lars went to look for the ferryman, and
I remained behind, passing the time in the back of the wagon as best I
could, gazing at the beautiful landscape about me and eating the rest of
Mrs. P.'s cakes, while in front the horses devoured their oats and
frightened me with their friskiness. While I was sitting there, two
Yankees came up who also wanted to cross the river; they talked with me
for a time before they continued on the same road as the others. I waited
a long time and froze my feet thoroughly, until at last I heard them
coming with the ferryman and his boy, who were to help with the baggage.
Lars and the horses were to remain behind and we were to be taken across
in a canoe. {13}
Each was well loaded with his portion of the baggage, and I set out
ahead, accompanied by the ferry boy, who had to take my hand and help me
cross a pool of water on some timbers; my feet were so stiff I could
hardly walk. We went through a wilderness of bushes and undergrowth until
we came to a little stream over which there was a bridge. I became much
frightened to hear that V. had crossed it, for it lay more under water
than above. It had been broken down by a Norwegian driving over it, they
said. I was unable to get across; so we went farther up along the bank.
Here the ferryman went ahead and tried the ice, which held, and led us
safely over to the other side. Then we halted to see how Lars was faring;
he had taken the way across the dilapidated bridge, dragging one of our
chests after him; thank goodness, everything went well, but it looked
dangerous. Not long afterward, we stood by the river.
The ice was solid for some distance; so the luggage had to be pulled out
upon it before it could be moved into the canoe which was to take us
across later. We went into the woods for shelter for the time being, I
with my buffalo shoes on my hands to warm them. The canoe came back, we
said our farewells to Lars, asked him to greet the P.'s, and, wishing
each other a joyous Christmas festival, went our ways. I was quite
grieved to lose him; he had been so kind to us, and he now stood and
waited on the shore until he saw us safely across. I was very much
frightened at going right out to the edge of the ice, which we had to do
in order to get into the canoe. Here we seated ourselves in the bottom,
holding on firmly, with one hand on each side and our hearts in our
mouths. We really had to sit still in that little, light canoe, if we did
not wish to see ourselves overturned. The ferrymen stood, one in each
end, and made their way between the ice cakes with their paddles. They
were Frenchmen, and showed their lively dispositions by shouting and
yelling like wild creatures, encouraging us not to be frightened. That
was not necessary. Nevertheless, I was glad to reach the shore. {14}
We went to the top of a steep hill to the ferryman's home, which has a
charming view over the river and its beautiful banks. Here we arranged
for horses to Prairie du Chien. They could not come before seven o'clock,
however; so we ate supper with this black-eyed French family. The horses
we got were fast and the coachman talkative. He spoke a great deal about
a Norwegian minister who always stayed with him when he was in that
neighborhood and called his house his home. There was bright starlight,
but it was dark, so we could not see how things looked; no doubt there
was only black prairie. The five miles were soon left behind us; we
alighted at the Hotel Phoenix and go a room so scantily furnished that we
had to ask a Norwegian boy who was carrying wood to get us another chair.
{15}
The next morning Vilhelm went out to find someone to take us across the
Mississippi, which was frozen over but could not be crossed by horses. I
passed the time, meanwhile, as best I could. First I tried to converse
with the Yankee maid who was tidying the room, but received no other
answer than a stupid look and "Ma'am?" so I soon tired of that. I sat
down and ate some of the nuts which Preus had given me in Dodgeville, and
wrote a little until V. returned and said we could not get away until
after dinner. V. left again and came back a number of times with various
purchases. At twelve o'clock we had a fair dinner --- and presently the
buggy came, driven by a little man who was called "Doctor," with an
immense woolly hat, and a pair of gold spectacles on his nose. We drove
off, the doctor on V.'s lap. I tried to get some idea of the appearance
of the town. It lies in a large flat valley, surrounded by bare hills,
has a thousand inhabitants, but will not increase in size until the
railroad comes. {16}
After we reached the river, the horses were unhitched. The doctor went
ahead, trying the ice with a long stake, and helped Vilhelm draw the
buggy, in which I sat; a Norwegian boy pushed from behind; and so we
proceeded --- as much as possible across islets, then alternately over
ice and trees, a mile or so across in all. When we reached the other
shore the boy stayed with the equipment and we followed the doctor down a
remarkable road through the sloughs along the river. I had to take off my
shawl.
We stopped at the American House, and V. went to look for a conveyance. I
passed the time watching servants decorate a room with garlands for a
ball, and conversing with the two Norwegian maids until V. Returned. {17}
We could not get horses until morning, and had to be ready for an early
start. We asked to be shown a room, and had our choice between a large
one with a stovepipe to warm it and a little one without a stove. The
large one had this "but" attached to it, however, that adjoining it were
the quarters of a Yankee and his wife who were spoken of very
mysteriously and were not expected home until late. We settled down in
the room which was supposed to be warm, but had not been there long
before we discovered at least three broken windowpanes. V. took all the
pillows he could find and stopped up the holes; it was still cold. A warm
room is always difficult to find in an American tavern. We drew the table
close to the stovepipe, trimmed our candle with a hairpin, and spent the
time as best we could until the bell rang for supper. Later we decided on
the inner sleeping chamber, cold as it was; we stuffed shawls around the
window and went to bed early, for I was tired of sitting around freezing.
When we came down next morning, we found both maids busy baking biscuits.
We asked for breakfast, but were told that until the landlord came we
could not be served; he himself had to be present at the table. This was
a strange custom, that the guests had to wait for the landlord in order
to get food. But there was nothing to be done. They did not dare go in at
our request and disturb that stupid landlord; it was annoying, for it was
late and we wanted to get away. In the meantime it appeared that our
horse was just as unreliable as the landlord. The latter came sauntering
in at last, seized a large bell, slammed open the street door, and stood
there ringing with all his might. Now at last the time had come. While we
were eating, the wagon came, and we hurried to get away from that
tiresome place. It was dark and snow was falling. Our driver was a young
Scotchman with an attractive face. We stopped outside his home while he
went in for his shawl, which he wanted me to put on. Then he seated
himself again and started to drive. At once we recognized a strong smell
of spirits and discovered that the Scotchman was literally swimming in
whisky. In sitting down he had broken his whisky flask, poor fellow. But
he was not slow, he ran into the house again, emptied his pocket, folded
his shawl up in the pool of whisky, and drove merrily on.
We had a sheltered road during the first part of the way through the
McGregor Valley, before we reached the dusty, cold prairies. One mile,
two, four, six miles, the Scotchman announced very accurately, pointing
down at the side of the road, where we, too, discovered the markings on
some small flat stones, which would not need many inches of snow to cover
them. These, then, were the mileposts in this country; they are perhaps
better than none at all. "I am going to see if he knows any of the
Scottish melodies," said V. and began to sing. It was not long before the
Scot joined in, and he continued through most of the trip to sing his
Scottish ballads in a very appealing way. He told us he was twenty-three
years old, and his wife not yet twenty. They had been married four years
and had had three children, of whom only one was living. When we asked
him if his wife was Scotch, he answered, "Oh yes, certainly. I would not
have a Yankee; they only eat candy all day long."
When we came to Monona (a couple of houses and two shops), we stopped a
long time while he went in and got himself a dram. {18} He also provided
himself with a new flask of whisky, to which he applied himself
diligently.
"You should beware of drinking so much whisky," said Vilhelm.
"What does your wife say about it?" I asked.
"Oh, she says I'm a naughty boy," he answered, but assured us at the same
time that it was never found in his house; it was only on trips that he
indulged.
Naturally we were curious to see the nature of the land in Iowa, but we
discovered no marked change, except that the prairies were more hilly and
the road even more natural (that is, as nature had formed it) than in
Wisconsin. Late in the day we came to a very large stretch of woods where
the road forked, and the Scot insisted that our road was the narrower one
(which, as it turned out, led up to a little house). Vilhelm thought not,
but naturally, the driver ought to know best. So we drove the narrow
road, which was wrong, of course, and then back between deep snow and
thickets until we came to the right road again. It did not look as if we
would reach our destination early; the horses were sluggish; nor did it
help matters that the driver continually called to them, "Show that you
are worth your thousand dollars!" We made slow progress at best.
Vilhelm, as usual, walked now and then. Meanwhile the Scot was as merry
as ever: he ran, sang, took a pull at his bottle from time to time, and
froze thoroughly nevertheless; he marveled that I kept up my spirits. "It
would have been different if she had been a Yankee!" he said, and was
just as eager as we to arrive soon at the first Norwegian house. He
inquired faithfully, too, whenever he could, how much farther it was to
the first Norwegian. The sun had long since gone down; we all began to
feel cold. I pulled and tugged at my buffalo robe, as usual, to get it
close about me. At last we discovered, on our left, the first house.
Here, then, it was; happy were we and happy was the Scot. He was hoping,
in fact, that he might get home soon enough to attend the ball at the
American House.
"Does Mr. Johnson live here?" he cried when we came to the vicinity of
the aforementioned house and spied a man standing outside.
"Yes!" shouted the man, and Mr. Johnson, tall and erect, came forward. He
was good enough to come over to us at once, and, extending his hand to
Vilhelm, wished him welcome when he heard who he was. He told us Nils
Katterud lived about two miles farther on, and that it was easier to get
to him, as the road to Knud Aarthun's was full of twists and turns; and
to one of these men we intended to go. {19} He mounted his horse at once
and rode ahead to show us the way. {20}
<12> Wingville, now known as Montfort, is a small settlement in Wingville
Township, sixteen miles west of Dodgeville.
<13>The Wisconsin River flows into the Mississippi below Prairie du
Chien. The ferry was near the site of present-day Bridgeport, Wisconsin.
<14> Vilhelm Koren has given a graphic account of this crossing in Symra,
23(1905).
<15> The minister was probably Nils O. Brandt (1824-1921), pioneer pastor
in Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota, and eventually a teacher at Luther
College in Decorah. Brandt organized the first Norwegian congregations in
Iowa. See ante, editor's introduction, p. viii. The Phoenix Hotel was a
brick and frame structure on Main Street, one block south of Main and
Blackhawk, in Prairie du Chien; Mrs. Florence Bittner, curator of Villa
Louis in Prairie du Chien, to the editor, June 14, 1955.
<16> Prairie du Chien, oldest town in Wisconsin, is on the Mississippi
three miles above the mouth of the Wisconsin River. It was a meeting
place for traders and Indians even before 1700. The French gave it the
name "Prairie of the Dog" because it had been the home of an Indian chief
called "The Dog." The French and the British successively maintained
military posts there, and the United States built Fort Crawford there in
1816.
<17> The Korens had now reached the west bank of the Mississippi and were
spending the night in a hotel in McGregor, Iowa. Mrs. Koren mentions
later (January 12) that the two girls were the daughters of Thorbjørn
Omager of the Turkey River settlement. In 1852 the American House was a
frame structure 16 x 20, situated close to the river; this information,
from the North Iowa Times (McGregor), August 26, 1875, was furnished by
Mrs. Lena D. Myer of McGregor, Iowa.
<18> Monona is fifteen miles west of McGregor.
<19> This first Norwegian farmer whom the Korens met when they neared
Washington Prairie was Gullik Johnson Rønningen, whose family now goes by
the name of Running. He lived on the northeast quarter of Section 13,
Springfield Township, Winneshiek County. Nils Hanson Katterud (1798-1895)
and his wife Liv lived on the southeast quarter of Section 1, Springfield
Township. The Washington Prairie Church was later erected about half a
mile south and a little west of their place. Knud Aarthun, his wife Anne,
their eight children, and a paternal uncle and his family lived together
in one cabin during the winter of 1853-54 on the northwest quarter of
Section 6, Frankville Township. Aarthun eventually moved to Minnesota,
and it is said that Ortonville, Minnesota, is named for him or for one of
his sons. Valuable information on families and farms in the Washington
Prairie area has been supplied to the editor by Mr. William Linnevold of
Decorah.
<20> This ends the account of the journey from New York. The diary now
begins again, with some duplication of what has been related.
________________________________________________________________
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