MY FATHER, mother, three other children, and I -then seven
years of age-left Porsgrund, Norway, in the spring of
1861, to emigrate to America, the Promised Land. Shortly
after purchasing the tickets, father loaded his family and worldly
goods on the old sailing vessel named " Skofna." The company
that owned the boat knew that it was in such poor shape that it
would never make another trip across the ocean, so they wanted
to make as much money as possible on this last trip. There were
grafters in those days, too! So the company loaded on 200 more
emigrants than the ship was authorized to carry and set sail across
the vast ocean on what was supposed to be a six or seven weeks'
trip; but on account of the poor condition of the ship, the extra
heavy load and unfavorable winds, it was ten weeks from the time
it left Porsgrund until it landed in Quebec.
In those days an emigrant ticket called for a certain number of
square feet of floor space, with walls on three sides, the fourth
side open; or, it could be closed with a curtain if the traveler
had the curtain. The travelers had to bring their own bedding
and food. The food must be prepared, as much as possible, before
they boarded the ship. It consisted mostly of fiatbrod, tefse, and
dried meats, with potatoes to be cooked on board the ship in the
community fireplace or stove. The food had to be prepared and
packed in such a way and in such quantity that it would neither
mold nor rot, and so that there would be plenty for six weeks.

Sailing ships in those days had no way to prepare the ocean
water for use in food or as a drink, so they had immense barrels
of fresh ‏(? )‏ water stored on deck. At the beginning of the voyage
the passengers were given what water they needed, but after they
had been at sea a long time, they tapped a fresh barrel and found
it empty. The barrel had sprung a leak, and the water had run
into the ocean. Nobody had noticed it. After that the passengers
barely got enough water to drink and to boil their potatoes and
coffee. There was no water to wash their hands and faces, nor
even to wash the potatoes before boiling them.
Food also was running short for many of the emigrants, who
had prepared for no more than seven weeks, and had to stretch
it out to ten weeks. But we had plenty, although we rationed ourselves
to one potato per meal and some fiatbrod. One day, while
we were sitting at our table, mother was peeling the potatoes for
the small children for the next meal; a little boy, both ragged
and dirty, came and stood by our table, and looked so longingly
at our six potatoes that mother gave him hers, which was neither
washed nor peeled. He grabbed it and gobbled it down, potato, peeling,
dirt and all and ran back to his folks without saying a word.
At last, after ten long weeks, with nothing to see but the sky
and water, the journey came to an end and we landed in Quebec,
Canada. The officers and crew refused to take the ship back on
the return trip, so it was towed out to deep water and sunk. It
was in such poor condition that it was unsafe for even short
river trips.
Our ticket was paid to La Crosse, Wisconsin, and we left
Quebec on a steamboat. It may be of interest to say that all the
passengers on the sailboat were Norwegians so we were at home
with both officers and crew. But on arriving at Quebec we were
among people of a different nationality, and none of our party
could talk their language; so we were herded around like sheep.
The cheaper and quicker the company could move the emigrants,
the more money they could make, and they took advantage of it.
On leaving Quebec a sad accident overtook us. My father was
1947} AN IMMIGRANT'S MEMORIES 435
on the deck of the steamboat and in some way stumbled and fell
through a hatchway. He fell from the top deck to the bottom
of the ship and was hurt so badly that he died soon after. The
boat crew took charge of the body and when mother was allowed
to see him and search him for the $400 in gold that had been
sewed in a strong pack on the inside of his underwear, the money
was gone; no trace was ever found of it. The body was taken off
the ship and loaded on a train, taken to some unknown place and
buried. We never have found out where my father was buried.
This left my mother and four small children, the eldest twelve
years, with no money or close friends or relatives within reach.
Friends made on the boat assisted us as much as possible on our
trip to La Crosse. We traveled by boat part way and then by
train. I do not know where we made the change from boat to train,
as we were herded like cattle from the steamboat into a cattle
car which they had not cleaned after the cattle had been shipped
east in it. The floor had been covered with fresh straw and that
helped some. Another part of the trip was made in a flatcar with
solid sides which I could barely look over. There were no seats
of any kind, and we were jammed in so thick that we all had
to stand up. There I saw my first telegraph line. I asked a lady
on the flatcar what that wire was for. Maybe I had asked so many
questions that she was tired of answering them, but she answered
that it was used to hang children up by their hair when they were
bad. I decided that the American children must be very good
because I did not see a single one hanging on the wire.
At last we arrived in La Crosse and were duly installed in
" Castle Garden," a place built to keep immigrants until their
friends came for them.1 It was probably the size of a city block
1 Mrs. Emma Olberg furnishes the following additional information about " Castle
Garden ": " In the early sixties there was a very heavy stream of immigration and many
came without relatives preceding them. So Charles Solberg and Frederick Fleisher with the
assistance of others put up a building down near the Milwaukee Railroad as a refuge for
the immigrants and their families. They daily met the incoming immigrant trains, food was
provided and medicine and doctors' aid in case of sickness. The immigrants were assisted
also in finding relatives and friends." La Crosse Sketches, Series 7, note p. 79.
Information on " Castle Garden " was recently supplied to the Editor of this Magazine
by H. J. Hirshheimer, secretary of the La Crosse County Historical Society. He wrote
that the date of building " Castle Garden " has not been ascertained. The Scandinavian
MRS. T. S. V. WROOLIE ‏[June
with a high board fence on three sides and the Mississippi River
on the fourth side. Inside of this fence there was a large shed
divided into stalls and having a shanty roof. Each stall was boarded
• up on three sides, the fourth side being open. Each immigrant
family was installed in a compartment and allowed to stay there
until friends came for them or until they could make arrangements
to leave. Immigrants having money and who wanted a
better place were escorted by the police to a good hotel or boarding
house where they paid their own way. But the city of La Crosse
evidently felt responsible for the immigrants who preferred to
stay in the " Castle Garden," as lights burned all night and the
police were on hand both day and night. No tramps, salesmen,
or slickers were in there. The immigrants were expected to furnish
their own food and bedding but were allowed to stay in their
quarters as long as they wished.
Mother's plans were all upset after father's death. Some relatives
who were to meet us had been there several weeks before,
but, not knowing that it had taken us ten weeks to cross the ocean
instead of the customary six to seven weeks, they had gone home
again. If father had lived, he had money and could have made
arrangements for us to get to our relatives; but mother, penniless
and discouraged, was unable to do so. Finally, some people from
South Fork, a valley near Houston, Minnesota, came to get some
of our traveling companions and they took us with them.
Society, organized in 1866, was interested in aiding the immigrants, and in 1869 spent,
out of their own resources, about $900. Peter Moe was their agent, who devoted his entire
time to aiding arrivals at the "Garden." See La Crosse Weekly Leader, Aug. 14, 1869.
Another kindly man was Edward Doane, who learned to speak the Norwegian, German,
and· Swedish languages and proved most helpful to the foreign immigrants.
The La Crosse Democrat of May 31, 1870, states that the packet "War Eagle" burned at
the depot landing, and the depot, freight houses, elevator, and " Castle Garden " were
destroyed. According to the La Crosse Leader, July 9, 1870, Moe and Doane were instru•
mental in providing new quarters on C. B. Solberg's lot. " Walls for a building were
already standing and Solberg donated them." The floor space was 3 2 by 62 feet, There
were tables, bunks, and a cook shanty which was supplied with tubs and utensils. The
building accommodated 3 00 persons.
Moe and Doane met all trains and assisted the immigrants with their luggage, protected
them against swindlers, helped them on their way by boat or train, and supplied them
with funds if in need.
The editor of the Democrat writes on April 4, 1871, that a special policeman was
stationed at the depot. The following organizations contributed his salary: Milwaukee
Railroad, the Southern Minnesota Railroad, the Keokuk Northwestern Packet Company,
and the Scandinavian Society.
1947]‏ AN IMMIGRANT'S MEMORIES 437
The twenty miles from La Crosse to Houston was a hard all-day
journey for an ox team. After loading and getting a late start,
our friends and several other families decided to stop over night
with a German bachelor farmer who lived along the road near
Hokah. This German was an immigrant, and had been there only
a short time. He could talk very little American, but any traveler
was welcome to stay at his house; the women and children slept
in the haymow, and the men wherever it was convenient. In this
party was an elderly Norwegian girl and although she could talk
only her native language, love found a way and by morning she
and the bachelor announced that they had decided to get married.
A minister was soon found so they were married and became
well-to-do. The pastor could make out the license at that time,
so it was not necessary to go to the courthouse.
South Fork was a fertile valley, surrounded by bluffs that were
covered with timber. It had not been settled very long, and all
the settlers were immigrants. Mother was kindly received and
was given a home by a certain family. She worked out by the day
at any kind of work she could get, both housework and field
work-it was mostly field work. My brother was given a home
by a childless family. He died several years later. I was taken by
a young couple who had a small child whom I was to take care
of while the mother worked in the field.
The fields were plowed and grain was sowed by hand; corn was
hoed by hand; grain was cut with a cradle, bound by hand, and
threshed by a four-ox-team-powered threshing machine that had
neither self-feeder, blower, nor elevator. It had to be fed by hand,
the straw pitched away from the rear end of the machine by
hand, and the grain caught in baskets at the bottom of the machine
and poured into sacks. The fields were fenced with rail fences;
the cattle roamed in the unfenced woods. The houses were built
of logs, mostly with one room and an attic; the stairway to the
attic was a ladder nailed to the wall. Where the logs did not fit
closely, pieces of wood were hewn to fit the holes or openings; these
places were called chinks. After the walls were chinked, they
438 MRS. T. S. V. WROOLIE ‏[June
were plastered and white-washed, which made the room both
clean and cheerful.
Most of the furniture was made at home or by a neighbor who
was handy with tools, so it did not cost very much to furnish a
home. There were no washing machines or wringers, kerosene
lamps, baby buggies, or heating stoves, nor many other of the
nowadays essentials for housekeeping when we arrived on that
faraway frontier.
A few weeks after we came to South Fork, the Indians went
on the war path with their murdering and burning. Orders came
that all old and weak men and the women and children must go
to La Crosse at once. Ox teams were yoked to the wagons, and
people were loaded in as fast as possible; they did not even have
time to change clothes or do any packing. The strong and healthy
men had to stay and fight the Indians. The main body of the
Indians had been beaten, but small squads of them were terrorizing
the country. Within a week the soldiers had chased them away,
and we were able to return home. I do not know how the people
of La Crosse were able to care for all the refugees, because the
majority of them did not have any money, but we all seemed to
have plenty to eat.
The Civil War was raging at that time, and toward its close
hard times came. But the farmers raised their own food and
if they did not have sugar in the house for six months at a time,
that was all right. Unbleached 36-inch sheeting and 27-inch calico
cost from 75 to 80 cents per yard, and thread was 25 cents per
small skein. Spool thread was unknown then; that came later
with the sewing machine.
There was no market for butter and eggs, poultry, or garden
truck. It took two long days to take a load of grain to La Crosse
and three days to make the round trip to Winona, thirty miles
distant. In the last summer of the war the draft was on in earnest.
Soldiers traveled through the country and took all the able-bodied
men they could find. Most of this was done during harvesttime in
our section.
1947}‏ AN IMMIGRANT'S MEMORIES 439
Many a man was in the field cradling down his grain when he
had to drop his scythe and go to war. If he had a family, they carried
on from where he left off, because they had to eat. They cut
the grain and beat it out with the flail.
Clothes were at a premium; many children went nearly naked,
not on account of the style ‏( folks had more respect for their bodies
then)‏, but because they had to save their clothes for winter. Need
is a hard taskmaster, but the women met and beat it, although many
of them had to grind their wheat and corn in a coffee mill before
they cooked it into mush. Still they carried on and got their small
fields plowed and sowed the following spring. But the summer
when the war was over, many of the meh returned home to help
with the fall work although some were cripples and some never
returned.
I can remember also when President Lincoln was killed; there
was much excitement when we heard the news. A stagecoach came
through Houston with mail and passengers one day a week, so
outside news was scarce.
About that time the railroad started, going west into Minnesota.
A ferryboat took the passengers across the river from La
Crosse to Grand Crossing, Minnesota; they started building the
railroad from Hokah. This was originally <;:alled "The Southern
Minnesota Railroad"; later it became a part of the Chicago, Milwaukee,
St. Paul and Pacific Railroad. I think that it was the first
railroad in Minnesota west of the Mississippi River. It continued
going west and eventually reached Delavan, Minnesota, -and other
points.
With the coming of the railroad, prosperity came into the
country. Timber was needed for ties and bridges. The railroad
gangs needed hay and grain for the horses, dairy and garden
products for the men; when the farmers had some extra time, they
could work on the road and get cash. Ox teams were sold to the
butchers, and horses were bought and raised.
Timber was cut for the homesteads, stumps grubbed, and larger
fields were made. Good markets came to the home towns; machin440
MRS. T. S. V. WROOLIE
ery and household conveniences were invented, manufactured, and
sold.
I have seen the evolution from the times when wheat had to
be ground in the coffee mill and cooked into mush and sourdough
biscuits, until now you can call your grocer and have delivered a
fresh loaf of bread already sliced and ready to eat.
I have seen what was considered to be a nifty outfit, consisting
of a young yoke of oxen hooked to a light wagon that could make
from thirty to thirty-five miles per day.
In my girlhood I worked in La Crosse several years. Often during
my leisure time I went down to " Castle Garden "; the immigrants
were so glad to see someone who could speak both Norwegian
and English. But I can not remember when it was closed,
as I worked there and also at Winona at different times until my
mother died, when I was about twenty years old. I then went
farther west and settled down near Delavan, Minnesota.