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Subject: Diary of Elisabeth Koren - 133-140
Date: Wed, 20 Aug 2003 09:27:20 -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.
9 Clumsy, Bundled-up Women
Sunday, January 15. I dreamed last night I was home in Larvik in the
herregaard. {1} Petra Castberg had come over to go with us to a ball; we
had completed our toilet and were just driving over to where the ball was
to be held when I woke up. I shall not forget my amazement when I looked
about me in this little room with curtains on all sides, and the peculiar
feeling when I realized at last that I was so far from the scenes with
which I had just been occupied that I lay here in Erik's little cabin,
far inland in America, that I was married, that Vilhelm was a pastor and
was today to conduct a service in one of the settlements. It was strange
to think of it all, and I stayed awake until it was light and there was
movement in the house. Then I, too, got up.
When we had eaten, I read a sermon, which Erik later read aloud to
Helene. While he was reading, Suckow came. He sat here for a while before
he went on to Katterud's, where the meeting is to be held today. I had
thought of going over in the forenoon, but now I shall wait until another
time. I shall spend the day writing to Sellø; then I can send my letter
home. {2}
Now it is time for dinner and we have both potatoes and onions, as well
as pork. I wonder how many of the congregation were able to come to
services where Vilhelm is today. Here the weather is so disagreeable that
I have not been outside.
It is now bedtime; true, it is not yet nine o'clock, but when Vilhelm is
away, I generally shorten the evening somewhat. I have been reading aloud
to Erik and Helene from Welhaven's "Travel Sketches" this evening. (Today
I am able to read them.) It was a great pleasure, especially for Erik,
who is acquainted with many of the places described and knows several of
the people.
Monday, January 16. Today I was up early --- before it was light. Helene
asked if I wanted any clothes washed, as she was going to wash. I
answered yes, and struggled for a time with my things. It has been very
quiet here this forenoon; I have scarcely heard a sound save Helene's
splashing in the water. This is because Kari was given a piece of cloth
and a needle to play with and so let Per play alone with his blocks. I
wish it might be this way when Vilhelm is home. Erik was in the woods. I
ate biscuits and drank coffee for dinner, but declined the pork. Later in
the afternoon Helene was through with her washing and wanted to scrub the
floor. I protested that it was really too much to scrub both Saturday and
Monday --- but in vain. So I resorted to my usual expedient under such
circumstances --- took my hat and coat and went out.
I thought of going on a tour of discovery to see if I could not find new
paths, but gave that up as soon as I stuck my nose out the door. My face
tingled so that I was afraid of paying too dearly if I should go astray,
and therefore I prudently took the path across Erik's field to Sørland's
and the path beyond to Katterud's. I turned off before I reached there,
circled around, and came back by the way we had taken home from the
parsonage land. Since that time I had forgotten how it looked there; I
found it extraordinarily pretty, an effect to which the evening sun
contributed, throwing its splendor over the landscape and through the
trees. When I got home I found Helene waiting with some anxiety for Erik,
who had not yet returned, though he had left early that morning and had
not taken lunch with him. It became dark. I walked back and forth
knitting. Helene made pancakes, the children were noisy, but still no
Erik. At last he came and all was well; he had only been delayed.
Tuesday, January 17. I was up very early today, too; but no wonder, for I
had gone to bed at eight o'clock. Long after the others had gone to bed
last night, I was writing and thinking of continuing my letter. But then
it seemed so disagreeable to sit alone --- I heard so many sounds --- in
short, I was like a child who is afraid to be alone. Therefore I hurried
to bed and stuck my face under the feather quilt. I lay awake for a long
time, thinking of my earliest childhood and recalling several scenes very
vividly.
Now it is evening again. The household has gone to bed, but I am still
sitting here with a little writing, which I did not get done earlier
because Erik asked me if I would not be so kind as to read a little to
him from that boka ("Travel Sketches"). {3} He listens very attentively,
even to the descriptions of nature. Helene, busy crushing something in a
mortar, takes care to stop her work every time the talk is of people and
fairies, but when Welhaven shows enthusiasm for the evening sun's
splendor, the dark woods and deep waters, she pounds away merrily.
We were at Sørland's for dinner today. We walked over at ten o'clock this
morning, taking the road across the fields. Helene had Per on her arm,
wrapped in shawls, and a switch in her hand to drive the cows before her
to be watered. I walked behind holding Kari by the hand; then came the
heifer, bringing up the rear. Kari and I did not manage well. First we
both fell down on a slippery hill. Then, as we approached the house, the
dogs came barking and jumping toward us, and Kari screamed at the top of
her voice and clung to me so that I could neither get loose nor chase the
dogs away. At last Eli heard us and came out and rescued us from our
distress. She was home alone. Ingebret did not come until three o'clock,
when we were ready to go. We had a very pleasant time there; I was busy
with my work and Eli set out a plentiful supply of good food. She is a
very tidy housekeeper; it is less primitive, too --- both saltcellars and
pepperboxes.
I wish I knew how Vilhelm is faring and whether he found a good place.
Just so he does not come to half-open houses where he will freeze at
night!
Wednesday, January 18. I was awakened this morning by light in the room;
I peeped out between the curtains and discovered that Erik was already
having breakfast. Contrary to custom, I was very sleepy today, and so I
rested a little longer until it became lighter and I heard Erik and his
oxen leave for the woods. It had snowed during the night, and the morning
was dark and gray to begin with, but soon there came one of those sudden
changes of weather which sent all the grayness flying and brought us the
most beautiful sunshine instead. I hurried to finish my letter to Sellø,
then sealed the one to Larvik, and went over to see if Suckow might be
going to town. I found only his wife, who said he would not be going
before Monday.
I sat there for a while, but was really afraid to look about me in that
wretched room. Ugh, it was a trial to go in there after the bright,
cheerful sunshine outside. It was stuffy and untidy, though that was not
surprising in such a little room with so many children, and then that
poor crippled girl who hops about on the dirty floor. Sigrid invited me
to have dinner, but I just could not do it. I was eager to get outside,
and it was not until I had walked some distance that the fresh winter
morning began to blot out the pitiful picture I had just seen.
I was already inside the gate when it occurred to me to go to Aarthun's
and ask about sending my letter. It was very lucky that I did, for now
Ola is going to Trout River with my letter and one for his father. {4} I
sat there for a little while and had a glass of beer. Anne walked part of
the way home with me. Some distance from our cabin, I caught the smell of
fresh bread and found that Helene had baked biscuits, whose excellence I
have just sampled for dinner.
It is now evening, nearly nine o'clock. I read the conclusion of the
"Travel Sketches" to Erik and Helene this evening, and thereafter talked
with them about Norway. Erik thought it would be very nice to visit all
the places he had just heard described, for it was mighty fine there, and
to hear someone read about them gives one such a longing.
"And you, Helene," said I, "would you not like to see the places where
you lived as a child?"
"Oh, it would really be fun to talk with the people there, but otherwise,
well . . . ." answered she.
Nature, it seems, holds no allure for her; but she wishes she might now
and then hear the birds sing.
"The songs of the birds are not beautiful here," she said when we talked
about that, "and it was really gay at home, wasn't it? When we went out
early in the morning, there was such a warbling --- yes, it was so
lively. And the song thrush --- he was a fellow with a merry note,
indeed! Here one hears only that ugly frog, who croaks so that people
cannot sleep."
Thursday, January 19. Today I starched and ironed until it was time for
dinner; after eating, I took a book and had a long siesta. I was reading
some of Ingemann's tales, but they did not especially please me. {5} I
had thought of taking a walk in the afternoon but the weather became so
bitter and horrid, with snow and wind, that my walk was confined to going
back and forth outside the house to get a breath of fresh air. I wonder
whether Vilhelm went to Paint Creek today? I hope he does not go until
tomorrow, and then gets better weather. It is dreadful how dark the
evenings are now.
I sat and crocheted this morning; I felt I ought to write a little, but
had no desire to. I talked a bit with Helene, but that did not interest
me; what I could talk about with her did not suit my mood, and so I
abandoned myself to my own musings. These soon took a brighter turn than
they had earlier, and made the hours, which had begun to hang heavy on my
hands, pass quickly. I was really not unhappy earlier in the day. No, it
was just trifles, such as the unpleasant smell of fried pork, the
roasting of coffee, Helene's coughing, the noise of the children, and
then finally Erik's bad tobacco --- all of which made the room
disagreeable to me and made me wish I had someone to talk to. I will not
deny that I wished Vilhelm were home. That mood lasted a while but ended
with my poking fun at myself because I let these trifles put me out of
humor and, as I said, I was soon in good spirits again.
During the twilight Erik cracked nuts and we ate. For supper Helene
surprised me with a soup made from meat, beets, and potatoes. It tasted
good, for it was long since I had had soup, but it would have tasted even
better if we had had it at noon instead of evening, which I told her,
too, for the second time. I read aloud again this evening --- I enjoy
doing it because I see the others get such pleasure from it. Today I read
from The English Reader and translated from the newspaper --- very
fluently. {6} For a change, Helene went to bed at six o'clock this
evening and fell asleep immediately without, as usual, making known her
approval of what I read from behind the curtain. Therefore Erik and I sat
alone this evening. Now he has gone to bed. I shall read a little first
before I do likewise.
Friday, January 20. It is only seven-thirty, and I have already had
breakfast and am writing. There was such noise and commotion here this
morning that I had to wake up whether I wished to or not. Unluckily Erik
went to the woods today, instead of to Decorah as I had hoped; by now
there really must be at least an Emigranten with European news at the
post office.
Today, no doubt, Vilhelm will go to Paint Creek. He will have bad
weather, it is true; but it is not cold, God be praised, so I need not be
afraid he will freeze his nose and ears (provided the weather is the same
there as here). I had planned to go to Katterud's today, but now I shall
wait until Sunday; then Helene can go along, and she will probably be
glad to do so. This morning I shall begin the description of our journey
from Koshkonong to Iowa.
It is now noon. While I was busy with the account of our journey and
Helene had gone out to water the cattle, three men came stamping into the
room and, remarking it was "mighty cold," seated themselves by the stove,
shook the snow out of their boots, lighted their pipes, and made
themselves comfortable. "You must be the pastor's wife," said one of
them, a friendly little man. I asked them if they wished to speak to the
pastor. No, they did not wish that. They did belong to the congregation,
I was able to gather, but had not been at the meeting of the
congregation. They were also very eager to have the parsonage located
here. They were from Telemark, where Dean Bech has been pastor; they made
some inquiries about him when they heard where I was from, and also about
Castberg, whom they knew through Bech. {7} I enjoyed talking with them,
since they knew these pastors. After sitting here a while, they left. I
do not know what they wanted. They had not known that the pastor was away
and probably they wished to see him.
Evening. The weather is dreadful, with a stronger wind than I have ever
known here. Erik came home from the woods early, but did not dare go to
Decorah, where he should have gone. The wind takes hold as if it would
blow the whole house down, and tugs at the door. Would to God I knew
where Vilhelm is! If he is at Sivert Vold's, it will be grim and cold. It
is so disagreeable that I am going to bed at eight o'clock.
<1> The herregaard was a large wooden building built in Larvik as a manor
house a century or more before the time of this narrative. During the
1850's it housed an advanced school for boys. Elisabeth Koren's father
was headmaster of the school and lived in one part of the building, while
Dean Munster, the pastor of the city, resided in another part. The
herregaard also contained the classrooms and a theater.
<2> On Sellø, see chapter 5, footnote 6.
<3> Boka is dialect for book.
<4> Trout River is a small stream running north through Frankville and
Glenwood townships to the Upper Iowa River. A post office and store were
located near the stream on John McKay's land, about three miles east of
Erik Egge's (now the Clarence Haugen farm in Winneshiek County). The post
office was later moved to Frankville; Sparks, History of Winneshiek
County, 117; and information furnished by William Linnevold. Ola may have
been Ola Katterud, either the elder or the younger.
<5> Bernhard S. Ingemann (1789-1862) was a Danish poet, dramatist, and
writer of historical novels.
<6> Lindley Murray, The English Reader, or Pieces in Prose and Poetry
Selected from the Best Writers (London, 1799).
<7> Dean Thomas Bech (1798-1862) was pastor in Laurdal in central
Telemark, Norway, 1822-34, and at Tjødling, just east of Larvik, 1834-62;
J.B. Halvorsen, ed., Norsk forfatter-lexikon, 1814-1880, 1:185
(Christiania, 1885). The Reverend P.H. Castberg (1794-1858) served as
pastor in Larvik and in Sandeherred, 1833-58; he was also for many years
a member of the Storting, or Norwegian parliament; Edv. Bull and others,
ed., Norsk biografisk leksikon, 2:514 (Christiania, 1923),
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