NORWAY-L Archives
Archiver > NORWAY > 2003-08 > 1062346608
From:
Subject: Diary of Elisabeth Koren - 233-242
Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2003 09:16:48 -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.
Monday, June 12, 1854. Now I begin this poor neglected diary once more; I
sincerely hope I may keep at it and not let more than a month pass again
without giving it a thought, I had almost said. But that would not be
true. If thoughts had been of any use, I should not need to sit here
annoyed at all the time lost --- time, too, rich in material for a diary.
Well, it is no use to regret. But what shall I do to make good my error?
All the innumerable words, scenes, and small domestic events which must
be seized at the moment or else vanish --- they have now vanished, and I
must be content simply to write the main outlines of that period which I
should like so much to keep with every possible detail. I certainly think
that the time when we first got some kind of a house and began our own
housekeeping deserves to be remembered, does it not?
It is evening, the hired girl has gone to bed in the loft, and my lord
husband and his wife sit very sociably, one at the window, the other at
the table, with backs turned to each other, writing. I enjoy the honor of
having the candle snuffers and of walking back and forth to trim
Vilhelm's light. Complete as our household furniture is in other
respects, we still have not been able to obtain more than one set of
candle snuffers, and that had to be ordered from afar at an exorbitant
price. The Yankees find they can use their fingers just as well --- so
why then procure snuffers?
I was cross this morning, for no reason at all, of course --- but now I
am happy as a lark, if only there were someone to appreciate it. I had
just put on the gruel this morning when Magnus' daughter came. She was to
help me for a couple of days, and I was cross because she came, for I did
not care to have so many girls who were strangers to me. Vilhelm was on
the point of becoming angry, but stopped halfway and broke into laughter
at my genial mood. I hurried off with the girl to a large straw pile to
get her mattress filled. {16}
There we had many tribulations. It was warm, even hot; the straw was so
wet that we had to pull away a good deal and dig deep before we reached
what was dry; in short, it was enough to make me more peevish than
before. But, remarkably enough, that served to bring me to myself again.
Just as we had finished, Vilhelm came and scolded me for undertaking such
work and tiring myself out. So we came back, Vilhelm and the girl
carrying the mattress. I hurried over to my gruel which, during this
affair, had been left to itself, in consequence of which I was taunted by
my spouse because of its excellence. So far as I could see, he found it
very much to his taste, and I wish I could often set the equal of it on
the table; but now the oatmeal is all gone.
In the afternoon the girl did the washing. After Vilhelm had heard
Embret's lesson and I had finished my rug, we went out for a walk. {17}
We had not gone far before we stopped to pick strawberries, for which I
have a veritable passion. Wherever I go, I look for them; no matter if I
have both hands full when I go to the springhouse, I have to set things
down if I see a berry. We found our first ripe strawberries June 18, and
the following day Embret came with a bowl of them; so we had strawberries
and cream for dessert after a dinner of egg pancakes and sour milk soup.
The latter was a new dish which fortunately won Vilhelm's approval. I am
lucky when I find a dish like that in this land of pork, where they use
only coffee --- coffee for breakfast, coffee instead of soup for dinner
and, when things are really topsy-turvy, coffee for supper too.
Now I had better write a little about the past month and its notable
events, so that they will not be entirely lost. But it will be even
better to put that off until tomorrow and go to bed now; it must
certainly be past eleven.
When I last wrote in my diary, we were to leave the next day for Paint
Creek. We did leave, too, but were so late in getting away that when we
neared Waukon, the future county seat of Winneshiek, Vilhelm decided we
had better spend the night there. {18} I had no great desire to do so;
there is little pleasure in passing a whole afternoon in such a tavern.
However, I was tired and we both were hungry; in a word, it was the
sensible thing to do and we stayed. These taverns are laughable. We were
shown into a fairly large, but very cheaply furnished room --- there was
not even a table. Well, there I sat. Vilhelm went in and out; during the
setting of the table (supper was served almost at once) he picked up a
book that he found and stalked noisily up and down in an adjoining room,
the door to which I was not permitted to close, despite several attempts.
{19}
Tuesday, June 13. I am very tired but must really write a few words
before bedtime. I am tired as a result of having starched and ironed
clothes this morning and prepared dinner; then I took a good afternoon
nap, had coffee, and read "King Erik and the Outlaws" until Caroline came
to scrub the floor, when we moved outside. {20} I sewed; Vilhelm read, as
he has done all day, and was angry at not being able to write because we
were ironing. I maintained that he could write anyway; but no, it was
impossible when his surroundings were so disagreeable. To be really fair,
I hardly dare insist he was angry, for he did not say much; but he was,
in all likelihood, inwardly annoyed. Well, now that we have had a
scrubbing and cleaning, he will be undisturbed tomorrow. The girl has
gone home; she was a great help during the short time she was here. Next
week, or when Vilhelm is away, she will return and we shall have a great
washday. I wish that were over. I expect a member of the confirmation
class here Friday. She is a large, stout Valdres girl, at least twice as
large as I. I am really afraid to take her, she looks so fat and lazy;
but there is nothing else to do --- and perhaps I do her an injustice.
{21}
For the greater part of the afternoon I sat outside sewing; Vilhelm sat
inside singing. Now, probably realizing that everything is peaceful about
him, he has suddenly started to write. I asked if we should not take a
walk and added that we would have to go soon, for rain was coming up and
it was thundering sharply. First he was going to hear Embret's lesson,
and called for him; but instead of the boy a strange old man came in, a
newcomer from Wisconsin, who sat here for some time and offered to sell
Vilhelm a large snuffbox. But V. has not started to use snuff,
fortunately; at least not yet. The man left and Embret came; but when he
had gone, the rain began to stream down and we had to give up the walk.
By way of compensation Vilhelm read aloud to me from Asbjørnsen's fairy
tales until it was time for tea. {22} After that he sat in the door and
smoked cigars and read until the last glimmer of daylight vanished, while
I sat in my rocking chair, left to my own reflections, and watched the
fireflies darting in ever-increasing numbers through the grass, far and
near, and sometimes pursuing each other through the air. It is a pretty
sight, when darkness falls, to watch all these countless, lightning-like,
bluish sparks in and over the prairie grass. Fortunately for Vilhelm's
eyes, he soon found it too dark to read, so we sat talking for a time
before we lit a light. It must be late now. I shall read a little and
then go to bed. I hope I can get up fairly early tomorrow, too. Today I
did not do so badly.
Wednesday, June 14. I shall now try to write a little, in the hope that I
may be left in peace by Vilhelm. He is very naughty and has been teasing
me all forenoon. While we were eating breakfast, he was still quite
good-natured. I had been up fairly early and set the table and had
everything ready by the time my lazy husband was finally dressed. (He
really made his bed, too, Papa.) {23} As I stated, while we were eating,
everything was lovely, and we discussed, among other things, whether our
forefathers had had sugar with which to tickle their palates and, if so,
where they had obtained it. To clear up the point, Vilhelm looked it up
in --- I know not what --- and thereupon related what Plinius said on the
subject. Of this Plinius, unfortunately, I knew only that he was a Roman,
and so the teasing began. It became still worse when I called the man
Pinius and asked who Pinius was. Vilhelm was so mean and naughty that I
became angry and tried a dozen ways to make him be quiet. (She struck me,
P.) It was not just the old Roman that made him so mean. Then I also had
to hear that I was cross and ill-behaved. Yes, we have heavy afflictions,
alas, not least at the hands of our spouses. This I surely experienced
today; nor was it the first time. (She became angriest of all because,
when she insisted that no woman's name ended in "us," I answered by
naming "Rasmus.") {24}
At last I tired of him and sat down to write; this brought about a
temporary truce, and now I think it will be converted into a formal
treaty of peace, for Vilhelm has gone to light the fire in the stove for
me.
The weather is beautiful today, almost too warm, but this is a cool room.
It is remarkable how heavy the dew is at night; late in the morning the
grass is still very wet, and early in the morning the dew looks almost
like rain. But despite the wet grass I have been out for strawberries
several times.
It is now twelve o'clock by the sun's mark in the window, I see, so I
must look to my dinner. We have a clock, to be sure, but nothing to wind
it with, since the key lies somewhere on the road to Sørland's, and
Decorah cannot furnish a new one.
Now it is late afternoon; we have had our dinner and coffee and had our
siesta peaceably and amicably as behooves a well-behaved married couple.
Vilhelm read Ydale and laughed. {25} I read "King Erik" --- which
interests me, though not so much as the first two volumes --- until I was
quite tired. Then Embret Skaarlia came with a saucer of luscious
strawberries, which so refreshed me that I was able to defy the heat and
fatigue and sit down to write. Vilhelm is now hearing Embret's lesson and
is having great difficulty making him understand that Abraham had more
domestic animals than are to be found in the whole county, that he had
many goat herds and dwelt on a large prairie. It will doubtless soon be
my turn to read with him.
We are not likely to get our walk before late today. There are so many
roses here that we literally walk "'mid roses where we go." {26} Most of
them are rather small bushes with pale red or red-streaked blossoms like
our pinks in the garden at home; but there are also larger bushes with
fairly dark flowers. The roadsides are often overrun by the small ones,
but I have not seen a single large wild rosebush like those we had so
many of at home.
Thursday, June 15. The day is really beginning very well. My consort and
I are good friends today. {27} It is so hot, however, that the heat could
easily reduce one to a very mellow mood.
I have really had to exert myself not to give in to listlessness; but it
was helpful to wash the dishes, make the beds, sweep the floor, and dust,
all in one stretch. If I had not done that, I should probably still be
sitting on a chair without moving a finger, I imagine. Now, on the
contrary, I shall try to be diligent and write. I wish I knew what we
ought to have for dinner. That is a very difficult matter. I have almost
no eggs left, and without them one does not get far here, where one has
no choice but pork and dishes made of meal. And with pork I must have
scrambled eggs or nothing. Oh, that I had some new potatoes and a little
mackerel from homel It is really boring, this constant puzzling over
tiresome food.
We went for a walk yesterday evening and picked a great many
strawberries. We were hardly past the gate when we discovered a patch
which held us enthralled a good while; so we picked peacefully until we
turned the corner. But then it was no longer easy to proceed without
constantly stooping and keeping a sharp lookout. Vilhelm was obliging
enough to plunge through the thicket; I did not venture in there for fear
of snakes, but . . . berries on which I feasted while I followed him to
the end of the fence; then I turned back. {28} Vilhelm went on to the
parsonage land. I picked a beautiful bouquet of roses, which I have
discovered are fragrant, though not so fragrant as garden roses; but they
smell sweet, nevertheless. Then I found a pretty flower I did not know,
picked a couple of berries hastily, and hurried back to get tea ready
before Vilhelm returned.
After I had been down to the springhouse for butter and had set the
table, I thought it might be nice to have a little bacon, too, and walked
back. {29} When I came out, I heard whistling on the hill; it was
Vilhelm, who came just at the right moment and brought with him the most
beautiful and wonderful flower we have seen here. He had found it in the
parsonage woods. It is so delicate, so very delicate, that if Johan had
seen Vilhelm coming with it, he would have had a good laugh. Yet he would
have had to admit that it is beautiful, no matter how much he might have
made fun of it.
I have written to Mrs. Linka --- and now a few words here before I start
a letter to Marie Horten. {30} Today our rest after dinner was especially
welcome. I had had so much trouble with cream pancakes. The pan had
rusted while hanging in the summer kitchen, where the rain often comes
through, and the cakes would not brown. At last, after much hard work and
some sweating on my part, they were ready and eaten. The coffee was made
and brought in, and then we sat and read peacefully. At last, fortunately
for our writing, we were interrupted by little Embret, who brought us a
dish of delicious strawberries. He comes so faithfully every afternoon
and today he surpassed himself. They are delicious, but I always have to
eat them alone. Vilhelm hardly touches them, so that I may have the more.
Oh, how peaceful and comfortable we really are! Now I must begin my
letter to Marie if it is ever to be written. I wish that in the afternoon
I were just a little more in the mood for writing.
Friday, June 16. I am alone in this little room this morning. Vilhelm is
teaching his confirmation class. Guri sat here awhile with her knitting
and asked my advice as to Eli's indisposition. I have gone through my
medical book without finding anything. People come and ask for help, but
those they come to are only indifferent counselors. Yesterday Iver Kvale
was here for advice and medicine for his child. That medicine came in
handy, indeed; I wish we had much more of it.
I did not get far with my letter yesterday. Nils Katterud sat here for a
time, too; he came with a few words and a gift of a bottle of port wine
from Paulsen, who must be very thoughtful. It is raining so hard today
that I do not know how I shall prepare dinner; my stove will no doubt be
full of water. I wish Vilhelm would find some letters, or at least copies
of Emigranten, when he goes for Johanne Karine. {31}
I managed to get some food ready just the same. The rain let up in time
for me to tie up my skirts and go down to the springhouse for butter. I
had just put the finishing touch to the flødegrød when Vilhelm came
walking slowly, warm and tired. He had neither girl nor newspapers nor
letters. The girl had not been there today. But I do not understand why
we get nothing from McKay. I long so much to hear from home --- at least
a newspaper. I wonder if I shall not soon have a letter from Christiane;
I have heard almost every month before. There comes Embret; I must hear
his lesson now.
Saturday, June 17. It takes a long time for Vilhelm to return; he is
either at Egge's or Sørland's. He planned originally to go before dinner.
But it was twelve o'clock before we realized it, so we had one of our
peculiar dinners: first, tykmelk; then, cold flødegrød; then, a glass of
port wine to top it off. {32} Since I intended to bake bread and
biscuits, I was well pleased not to have to prepare a meal, and set to
work --- my first attempt of this kind --- when Vilhelm left. The baking
is over, but it was warm work. I have washed the dishes and am quite
proud when I survey the bread, which turned out well and is cooling on
the table. Now Vilhelm shall see what a woman he has --- if he would only
come; it must be past five.
Yesterday we had a real strawberry excursion, and a very pleasant stroll
it was. Vilhelm suggested that I refrain from picking any berries before
we reached the appointed place, and that I keep my eyes off the ground so
as not to be tempted. I succeeded in this and, when we arrived, was fully
rewarded. Vilhelm picked great quantities for me. I was bold enough to
leave the road, and found so many berries that my tongue became quite
raw; at any rate it smarted very much. Then we walked on peacefully, and
wisely omitted going to the parsonage land.
The wind blew hard and a storm gathered which broke loose after we had
eaten and washed the dishes. It was a fearful storm. We sat without a
light for a long time. The lightning became brighter and brighter and at
times it seemed as if the thunder would topple the roof over our heads;
rain fell in torrents. After a while we lit a candle, but though we had
two candles in that little room, it was still lighted up by the lightning
flashes. Vilhelm read to me. We sat for some time talking of old hymns
and hymn writers before we went to bed; and before we fell asleep, the
flashes became fainter and we were able to sleep in peace, undisturbed by
the thunder.
This is a lovely Saturday evening. When Vilhelm comes, I shall go out and
pick flowers for tomorrow. More than any other time, Saturday evening
makes me think of my old home, possibly because that evening always had a
character all of its own for me. On that evening I always gathered
flowers for the bowls and vases, and now no doubt Christiane or Lina ---
or perhaps Marie is again home --- now they bring the flowers to the
grave. It is the seventeenth today, the day of Mother's death. Alas, how
well I remember that first June 17 when I brought roses to the grave, and
what I prayed for as I lay and decorated it --- I was so distressed. I
was then nine years old and the preceding year was the hardest I have
ever lived through. Now it all remains with me in melancholy, if no
longer sorrowing, remembrance.
<16> Caroline, daughter of Magnus Arneson Linnevold, worked for the
Korens for a time as a hired girl. She later married Ole Steen;
information received from William Linnevold.
<17> Embret Skaarlia was the boy who was taking lessons.
<18> Actually Waukon became the county seat of Allamakee County and
Decorah, of Winneshiek County.
<19> Here follow sixteen blank pages which were set aside in the diary
for an account of the preceding month; it never was written. In its stead
has been included here the letter of May 22, 1854, which precedes the
diary entry of June 12.
<20> Bernard S. Ingemann, Kong Erik og de fredløse (Copenhagen, 183,).
<21> The Valdres girl was Johanne Karine Kristiansdatter.
<22> Peter Christen Asbjørnsen, Huldreeventyr og folkesagn (Fairy Tales
and Folk Legends -Christiania, 1845).
<23> The interpolations in parentheses in this paragraph are in Pastor
Korenss handwriting in the diary.
<24> Canius Plinius Secundus was Pliny the Elder (23-79 A.D.), Roman
soldier, public servant, and author of Histroiae naturalis. "Rasmus" is a
colloquial term in Norwegian for a nagging, scolding wife.
<25> Ydale: Et vinterskrift (Christiania, 1851). This was volume 1, and
the only issue, of a projected annual.
<26> Mrs. Koren may have been thinking of Hans Adolf Brorson's hymn, "Jeg
gaar i Fare hvor jeg gaar," in which the fourth stanza reads, "Jeg gaar
bland[ engle hvor jeg gaar" (I walk 'mid angels where I go).
<27> After this word there is a line and a half neatly cut out of the
diary with a knife or scissors.
<28> The elision indicates two lines missing because of the cut mentioned
in the preceding footnote.
<29> A springhouse was a small structure that the early settler usually
built over a spring or well. Milk was cooled in it by setting the
container in the running water.
<30> Marie Horten (Marie Münster Koren) was so called because she and her
husband were living in Horten, Norway. Horten is a naval base on the Oslo
Fjord.
<31> Johanne Karine Kristiansdatter was the hired girl.
<32> Tykmelk (thick milk), or bonnyclabber, is coagulated sour whole
milk, frequently eaten with sugar and toasted bread crumbs sprinkled over
it.
________________________________________________________________
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: