NORWAY-L Archives
Archiver > NORWAY > 2003-08 > 1062087378
From:
Subject: Diary of Elisabeth Koren - 203-212
Date: Thu, 28 Aug 2003 09:16:18 -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.
13 The Baggage Has Come at Last
Tuesday, March 28. Winter is coming again, I believe. I awoke this
morning to windows wholly frosted over; it is very cold, although outside
it looks as if there were only sunshine and summer. And yesterday I had
to leave my husband on the prairie and hurry home because of the horrid
wind. We had taken a walk through Ingebret's woods over fallen trees and
broken branches, high grass and the like, and my poor blue dress was
quite torn at the bottom. But it was wild and lovely in the woods and
delightfully sheltered and warm.
I have been passing the time watching Erik Skaarlia fell trees --- logs
for the parsonage. I have never seen a tree felled before. Eli is baking
cakes --- small hearts. Naughty Vilhelm steals the ones Eli gives me and
excuses his bad manners with a poor witticism. He has completed a list of
all the letters he is to write and at last has started on them. Well, now
it is time to eat dinner, but I have no appetite.
Wednesday, March 29. I am so tired after a long walk that I shall very
likely soon fall asleep. I had better try to rouse myself a little and
describe our walk this afternoon so that I shall not sleep away all its
interesting features.
I have been sitting a long time watching the pretty prairie fire just
outside our windows; Ingebret is burning the field between the brook and
the woods. Vilhelm went down and helped set the fire; it was interesting
to watch them take burning grass and set fire in circles over the field.
The flames quickly licked their way up the grassy slope; now they have
spread out and have gone through and behind the woods, which look
magnificent, for we see not the flames but only the strong reflection,
shading from bright gold to dark blood-red, and the dense smoke rolling
over the trees. The trees along the brook are brilliantly lighted by the
reflection. And now Ola Tollefsjord has set fire to his field, too, so
there is a whole sea of fire. Here in the house one could see easily,
even before the light was lit. Vilhelm came in and ate, but went back
again at once. It looks strange to see his figure and Ingebret's,
followed by all three dogs, now quite shadowy, going ahead of the fire
with hazel switches in their hands, striving to put it out, for the
flames have already reached the top of the hill. If uncontrolled, they
could easily start in on the house, now lighted brightly by the flames.
This is a very large fire. Ingebret is likely to be watching it the
greater part of the night.
But it was our walk I wanted to write about. Well, it was remarkable
enough, for first we headed down the large hollow by the brook, which is
quite dry except for a stream of water which flows to the bottom over
some natural stone steps and vanishes through a little opening in a wall
of rock. It was rather strange to stand in that deep ravine with all the
big trees along the sides. At last we had our fill of gazing at this and
turned back, Vilhelm starting straight up the steep wall of soft,
slippery clay. I must certainly have thought I was Vige, since without
further ado I followed at his heels; but when I got halfway it dawned on
me that 1 was only a frail woman, not adapted to such undertakings, and
with as good grace as possible I made my way carefully down the slippery
clay wall and kept to the road by which I had come. {1}
From there we continued on the road which leads to Katterud's, and came
to a region where I was a complete stranger. It was not pleasant ---
rocky bluffs, their scattered gray trees made even more melancholy by the
raw gray weather. We followed a little wall of rock which rose higher and
higher the farther we advanced into the valley, then we jumped over a
stream, and stopped at last before a bluff which looked very interesting.
It formed wonderful ruins of all kinds and in places was overgrown with
vines and countless other delicate creeping plants, besides all the other
growths which had taken root. There were ever so many plum trees on the
level ground and here and there a half-burned, charred tree which sought
to hold itself aloft a little longer by leaning against the bluff. This
valley had a remarkably wild aspect and I was glad I had not let my
fatigue deter me from going.
It was a long jaunt, indeed. We got home late, for we had to stop to chat
a little with Erik Skaarlia, who was building a hog house; and besides,
we were curious enough to walk over to the parsonage land to see if any
more logs had come. But we might as well have spared that effort; there
are not very many, I dare say, as conscientious as Embret [Sørland] and
Erik Skaarlia. {2} There, I hear Vilhelm returning from the fire. Poor
Vige, who is supposed to be trained to be a model of virtue! Vilhelm is
really romping with him now.
Thursday, March 30. Ugh, I have been so lazy today --- written only part
of a letter to Lotte and listened to Vilhelm and Erik discuss the
parsonage, which is very difficult to plan if it is to be as we wish it.
{3} All the rooms will be too small, I suppose; if we are to have them
larger, then the house will not be so comfortable. One alternative must
now be chosen. I am tired of it all and shall try not to give it another
thought before the house is ready, and then do my best to arrange it.
This is a very sensible resolution if I can keep it.
At times my lord husband is afflicted with sleeping sickness, and such
was the case today. Then I can shake him as much as I will, but he only
blinks his eyes a little and looks about him with a more languid gaze,
until at last I give up, thinking that if this lasts altogether too long,
I shall have to go up again, as always happens, too. Now to my joy he has
sealed a number of letters --- I rejoice over every letter that gets
written --- and now he is outside chopping wood, an operation at which
Vige is a greatly puzzled spectator. Of course he left the door open as
he went out, so the sheep came galloping into the room and I had a hard
time getting it out again.
It is evening. Vilhelm has gone over to Tollefsjord's to get a messenger
to take the letters. It is too bad the post office is so far away; we
cannot get a messenger whenever we wish and so must wait longer than
necessary for letters. Eli has hurried supper so that I have hardly time
to write what I want to; no doubt it is because of Erik, who is here
building a summer kitchen. We shall eat by daylight this evening and
Vilhelm will have to eat later.
Friday, March 31. How disagreeable it is to see snow and winter when one
is waiting and hoping for spring! It is so wintry inside, too, this
afternoon. Vilhelm has just returned from Aarthun's, where he instructed
the candidates for confirmation; now he is writing busily. I have written
to Sello --- it is very well to keep busy writing letters, provided they
do not cause me to neglect my diary; but I write and write and still
don't want to lay the letter aside. So it will be dark before I get what
I want written here.
Eli is weaving a floor mat of cornhusks; the latter have many uses and
are said to be better than straw for filling mattresses. The teakettle is
simmering; the cat is sleeping under the stove; Fido, too, has stolen
into this warm room and has stretched out in the middle of the floor.
All forenoon I waited, expecting that the boy who took our letters would
return and bring at least a newspaper. He was here just now, bringing
neither paper nor letter. I hope he was able to make himself understood.
Tuesday, April 4. Now all of Saturday, Sunday, and Monday have passed
without my doing any writing; that is too bad! I believe it is because
Vilhelm is home; when he is, I never care as much about writing as when
he is away. Then I always regret not having written, for I know he is
eager to read what I write. Since he is to start out tomorrow, we shall
see if the inclination returns.
God be praised for all the happiness we have had these days! Letters from
Norway and Wisconsin, and imagine, the baggage --- the baggage which has
been awaited with so much longing and anxiety --- has really come at
last! I was writing to Mrs. Bech yesterday afternoon, when Eli, who stood
by the window, washing, cried, "That surely must be your baggage coming!"
I answered, "You must be mistaken. Don't you see that woman with a red
scarf on her head sitting in back?" But Eli was right, though I could
scarcely believe my eyes when the wagon came nearer and the woman changed
into the red New York trunk. Yes, God be praised, it really was our
baggage! I was very happy, but also sorry that Vilhelm was not home to
enjoy it; he went to Andrew's this forenoon and was not to be back before
evening.
I sat by the window for some time, glancing out every now and then to see
if he were coming, but soon became too impatient to wait quietly at home.
So I put on my things, called Vige, and hurried away, hoping to meet him
and be the first to bring him the good news. I walked and walked without
meeting anyone and became more and more disappointed as I went farther.
Then I began to feel tired, especially since I had a good deal of trouble
with Vige, who is very foolish and does not obey. "When you get to the
top of that hill, you must turn back," I kept thinking, until I did stand
on top of it and saw the next hill in front of me; then I thought the
same thing again --- and so it went until I was near Iver Johnson's. {4}
Here I met a prairie schooner with a large load of household goods, from
which projected here a face, there the leg of a chair or some other
article of household furniture. It was drawn by three or four pairs of
oxen and led by a large, tall Yankee, who marched ahead with his gun on
his arm and who halted me for directions about the road. I had not taken
many more steps before finally I gave up hope of meeting Vilhelm and
turned back, little as I wished to do so. I should have liked to walk as
far as Andrew's, but I was so tired that I was afraid of being stranded
halfway.
I turned slowly homeward and often stopped to look back. I had almost
reached the bottoms when I discovered something dark coming on foot from
far away. I stood still a little while and made certain that it was a man
and that the man might possibly be Vilhelm. Then I stood still even
longer and finally started forward very slowly, keeping my eye on the
approaching figure. At last to my great joy I recognized Vilhelm coming
toward me, waving his red handkerchief like a banner. Now it was his turn
to be happy and surprised, and no one had taken from me the joy of being
the first to bring him the news. Along the way Vilhelm still had to close
a horse deal before we got home to tea and hot biscuits.
Then the man who had brought our baggage handed us a little package,
which, I was quite touched to see, contained the old kerchief and half
shawl which I had given Lars Moen to keep his ears warm. There were
letters with it, too, some words to Koren and a very sprightly, gay
letter from Linka, which I was very glad to receive. It was written early
in February. It was stupid, of course, to send it with the baggage, which
stood safe and sound in Dodgeville more than two months while we were
worrying here. Well, I imagine that the Preuses will now understand why
they have not heard from us and do not get the things that we brought for
them. It is really too bad that Vilhelm did not get home earlier, so that
we could have unpacked their things and sent them back with the man.
We were glad yesterday to get our baggage, but are still happier today to
find that our things are in very good condition; nothing is damaged.
First Vilhelm opened the cases of books; there were the books as if they
had been put in yesterday. The same was true of the boxes; the things
were not even damp. Who would have believed it could turn out so well?
The least I expected was to see part of it spoiled. How gay it was to
unpack and see all our things again, both old and new, but especially the
daguerreotypes. God be praised for all the dear faces we have with us!
How good it will be when we can unpack in earnest and arrange everything
in our own home and not, as now, be forced to put it in that old room,
which is full of hay, mortar, and all sorts of rubbish! Now we take
things out and look at them, only to put them back again and leave them.
It will not be long before we move to Skaarlia's, I suppose, but there we
shall have only what is most necessary. The rest must wait to adorn the
parsonage. I long for that more every day, as does Vilhelm, too. But as
yet there are only twelve logs. {5}
Sunday a letter from Norway. Vilhelm got it, with an Emigranten, at
Rognald's after services. He also had a letter from A. Preus, whose
family has had much sickness. {6}That is why I have had no letters; I
thought there must be some good reason. The letter from home was from my
dear Christiane, dated January 28. It was a good letter; all was well at
home. Christiane also is better, God be praised, and gives me detailed
accounts of everything.
I am no longer homesick when I get a letter. I was not really homesick
before, either; but I was quite depressed and out of spirits when I read
their dear letters, especially the first ones in Hamburg and aboard ship.
Now, God be praised, I can follow them more calmly in their pleasures and
everything. But there was a time this winter, when Vilhelm was away, that
I simply could not endure the thought of home at all; the contrast was
altogether too great. But a longing to return or a wish that we had not
come --- such a thought I have never entertained. I have Vilhelm here ---
what more can I want? And whenever I thought of him, then I was happy
again and could not understand how a moment earlier I could have been so
downhearted. And how can I be really distressed when I am with him whom I
love so much, and who I know loves me? In this I have the best of all
possessions and am always happy, whatever the outward circumstances may
be. I only hope I may be for Vilhelm what I so dearly wish to be.
I am very tired from unpacking this forenoon. It is so warm today.
Vilhelm has ridden to Freeport. {7} I have made an effort to put our room
somewhat in order. Now, despite my fatigue, I think I shall try to wash
Vilhelm's knitted gloves, which I found in my hatbox, in case he should
want them tomorrow. In my hatbox - well, there were many things, and I
was quite touched to find so many reminders from the ship: Mr. Giering's
"Present from Ryde"; our jars of preserves, of which we so often took a
mouthful in our cabin --- one of them is still full of raspberries. The
sugar has crystallized on top, of course, but I think the berries will
taste good on pancakes just the same.
Wednesday, April 5. Nothing came of my good intentions to write today; I
found other matters to attend to. Vilhelm was to leave at seven this
morning. I awakened him, too, very punctually before six, but he loves
his pillow, the dear man. He was so tired, too, that I would much rather
have let him sleep, if I had dared. It was nine o'clock before he left
with his Rosinante, which certainly is well matched to the wagon; the
latter would fare ill, I believe, were it to follow a spirited horse. {8}
But as it was, it all fitted nicely together and was in complete harmony
with the gray, foggy weather.
I found Vilhelm's sheath knife sticking in the fence this afternoon. It
is too bad he forgot it; it is indispensable to him, and perhaps may be
doubly so this time, because he has such a rickety equipage. I wish I
knew whether he got there without trouble and not too late. It is a
shame, this difficulty he always has with a conveyance for his journeys;
one can easily enough become sick and tired of traveling early and late
in such rigs. I shall be very glad when he finally gets himself some
proper driving gear, and poor Rosinante can claim another name. Where is
Vige, I wonder? He has not been home all day; and yet I saw him shortly
after Vilhelm left. I hope Vilhelm finds him if he followed him.
After Vilhelm had gone, I sat down and did some figuring, then took some
money and went over to Erik's, but did not find him home. So I continued
on to Aarthun's and confided to Anne how tired I was of all the soiled
clothes; these she has now promised to take care of. Then it was agreed
that I should have one of her daughters when I move, which pleased them
very much. Anne thought I would have to take them one at a time so that
they would not be jealous of each other. She wanted me to stay and eat
flodegrod, but I wanted to get home and write; so I left. Oh, how warm it
was! The fog had disappeared and the sun beat down.
Some time after we had finished dinner, Helene came to have a look at the
parsonage land; I accompanied her there and walked back through the
woods. Then I had to get my clothes together, since Anne was to come for
them, and I found Kari Bergan sitting here when I came down. She has now
had her coffee, which no visitor can escape having, and has just left,
Eli going with her part way. She urged me strongly to visit her some
time; I must try to do that, too, though I have no special desire to take
that long walk with Eli, especially if it becomes very warm. It is not
easy to make excuses for not going with them so long as I am here; when
we have our own home it will be a different matter. I like very much to
visit people, but it should be possible for me to go with Vilhelm now and
then --- it is so pleasant.
Tomorrow I must really see to getting something written. It seems as if I
have so much to do, now that our things have come.
Thursday, April 6. I am very glad I am rid of all the soiled clothes.
Anne left with them just now and took everything there was. I wish I knew
how Vilhelm and Rosinante got along ---whether they reached their
destination with whole skins. No doubt there are many people at the
services today in this lovely weather. It is as warm as a midsummer's
day.
I wrote to Mrs. Linka today; I enjoy writing to her. I should like very
much to visit her this summer. At times I wish so much there were a young
matron in the neighborhood, one whose company I could really enjoy,
otherwise it would not be worth while; but if there were one, that would
be delightful. I keep wishing more and more for my own household; I get
so tired of being always among strangers. It certainly is not good for
me, either. I wish very much I could keep house and make Vilhelm
comfortable and thus have some more interesting occupations than I do
now. I can always find things to do, of course, but they are only little
trifling things which do not satisfy, or I am merely helping Eli --- but
now it will be better, for I am to start quilting. I could find enough to
do, now that we have received our baggage, it is true, but that had
better wait until we have our own home. No, a young wife certainly is not
benefited by being so long without a home of her own to look after. I am
afraid I shall become lazy and lose some of my interest in housekeeping
--- but there is no real danger, I hope.
I have finished my letter to Mrs. Garrigues; tomorrow I shall write Mrs.
Lund. I shall be glad to get these two letters off. Despite the beautiful
weather today I did not take a walk -merely sauntered about in the yard
down by the spring. I have been too lazy to go farther and am very tired
because of the heat. What will it be like, this summer, if I am so tired
now? I shall have to hope it is only that I am not used to it.
<1> Vige was the Korens' dog.
<2> Logs for the first parsonage were furnished by the parishioners, cut
and hand hewn by them. For the present church edifice, which was begun in
1869 and dedicated in 1873, the parishioners quarried native limestone
and built the structure. They followed the same procedure in making an
addition to the church, in 1949, in the form of a parish house.
<3> Charlotte Amalie Koren (1831-1910), a cousin of Elisabeth Koren's,
was a teacher and author; Johnson, Slekten Koren, 1:196.
<4> The location of Iver Johnson's farm has not been determined.
<5> "For a long time there were twelve log beams for the house; I used to
go up and count them. When Vilhelm came home, his first question was,
'How many are there now?'" These words, to be found on page 171 of Fra
pioneertiden, are not in the manuscript diary. Apparently they were added
with Mrs. Koren's approval when the Norwegian version was edited for
publication.
<6> The Reverend Adolph C. Preus.
<7> Freeport is a village on the Upper Iowa River two miles east of
Decorah. In the early days it was a rival of Decorah.
<8> Rosinante, Pastor Koren's horse, was so named because of its
resemblance to the famous steed of Don Quixote.
________________________________________________________________
The best thing to hit the internet in years - Juno SpeedBand!
Surf the web up to FIVE TIMES FASTER!
Only $14.95/ month - visit www.juno.com to sign up today!
This thread: