NORWEGIAN SETTLEMENTS IN TEXAS
Complying with the request to contribute to the history of
Norwegian Settlements in Texas, there is perhaps little I could
add to the store of knowledge already in possession of the
Norwegian American Historical Association. Now that so few
of us remain from pioneer days, we, who then were youngsters,
share in the regret over the failure to record detail and data
from the experience of elders, who could have told the story
at first hand.
Much of the knowledge retained from those days is, of course,
more or less inexact or incomplete. For recorded data special
credit is due to Theodore Colwick, long since deceased, also to
Jacob Olson. Theodore Colwick was a custodian of "settlement
lore"--Jacob Olson, the Nestor among the remaining few, al-
ways a student, who fifty or sixty years ago, beside his farm
duties, began his remarkable collection of fossils and Indian
relics, many of which are now in the splendid collection of
The University of Texas. Among the younger we have Eilert
Albertson Moore of Clifton College, whose scholarly attain-
ments have already contributed much of historic value in his
review on School and Church Development in Bosque and of
Clifton College in particular.
The writer's knowledge from personal association with set-
tlers of the "Old Guard" of long ago cannot, therefore, lay
claim to historic value as source documents, and tribute is here
acknowledged to the labor of love that others have performed.
Further, only a minor interest can attach to Norwegian settle-
ments in the South and Southwest, for comparatively few of
us came this way. Numbers of Norwegian settlements were
started in various parts of Texas, but never found a following
sufficient to build up strong communities. Practically all of
them eventually passed out of the picture as collective entities.
The Bosque settlement alone grew into a strong vital force,
which to this day stands out as one of the models of rural
development in Texas. It is fair to say that Bosque settlement,
now extending into neighboring counties, easily takes rank
among the five or six foremost in the state when all factors
that count in quality of husbandry and citizenship are weighed.
There is still in many homes something of an atmosphere sug-
gestive of Old World culture, of quiet and dignified reserve, of
order and home discipline. So much for survival of racial traits.
That individual Norwegians arrived in the days of the Re-
public or before, is pretty well accepted, but no collective move
was made. A thoroughly seasoned, weather-beaten, seafaring
folk sailing the seven seas, in Dutch, English, and American
ships as well as in their own, could be found in every conse-
quential port of deep-sea shipping. They would often find their
way to the interior, as they did from New Orleans and later
from Galveston. Seafarers, sea rovers as of old, the Nor-
wegians, from the days of Rollo and before, were obsessed
with land-hunger, a trait that still subsists with impelling urge
in the blood of the race. This otherwise universal Nordic urge
seems even more accentuated in the Scandinavians.
When, therefore, railroads made possible the rapid settlement
of the continent's interior, this land-hunger found expression
in a flood of migration which, from a comparatively small popu-
lation of the homeland, stands as one of the amazing mass
movements of history. But this mighty current refused to be
diverted from its gigantic sweep through the northern terri-
tories of the United States and the southern provinces of
Canada; and so it was that this broad and deep and mighty
stream flowing from the Great Lakes to the Pacific left the
settlements of the South untouched by stimulating currents and
contacts with their brethren and their homeland. So it was,
too, that the many starts at Norwegian settlements in the
South were dissipated so early.
It appears from surviving records that the first Norwegian
to establish his homestead in Texas was Johan Nordboe from
Gudbrandsdal, who took up land in a section now occupied by
the city of Dallas in 1838. The first organized group to estab-
lish permanent settlement was led by Johan Reinert Reierson
from Tvedestrand. This settlement was founded in 1845 in
Henderson County where Brownsboro now stands.
Arriving at New Orleans, there buying equipment, they pro-
ceeded by boat up Red River to "Nacotosh" (Natchitoches).
There purchasing teams (and being cheated into the bargain)
they proceeded by wagon and on foot to Nacogdoches, they
arrived, it is said, on the Fourth of July, in the midst of fes-
tivities, and were honorably received by President Houston and
General Rusk. From there they proceeded to the Brownsboro
section, where, in the beginning, they supplemented the food
supply by hunting.
The following year, namely, 1846, another group arrived by
the same route, but their Red River boat sank with all their
belongings, leaving them completely stranded on strange soil.
Other arrivals followed with their families in succeeding years.
It was these early arrivals in East Texas who, in 1854 and
1855, made up the group that established the Bosque settlement.
In the meantime other settlements were started in Van Zandt,
Cherokee, and Kaufman Counties, the settlement at Four-Mile
Prairie among them.
Climate and products were new and strange. Accustomed to
regard all running water as pure and wholesome, and not then
understanding the fever-breeding mosquito, they were harrassed
with what they called "climate fever." Malaria, chills and fever,
and accompanying ills thinned their ranks. They struggled on
grimly but blindly. Trying out new locations did not bring
relief. Their sufferings could not encourage a swelling tide
to the South; but still newcomers arrived each year.
Then it was that reports came in about the Indian hill country
West of the Brazos. Geographic concepts have changed with
the times. What was then referred to as "Out West" is now
in part "Over East." People of other states find it difficult to
visualize the actual extent of Texas.
It may be permitted to digress here to quote the genial editor
of the Atlanta
Constitution
of forty years ago. Conceiving the
corners of Texas as turning points for a wheel, he attempts
to make clear his impressions in terms like this:
Give her a turn to the right, and she sweeps up the
Mississippi Valley and goes reaching for the Great
Lakes. Give her another tilt and she rolls up the Con-
federacy and goes careening into the Atlantic Ocean--
but wheel her over to the left and she climbs the Rocky
Mountains and rides triumphant over the West. Give
her another turn and she goes cavorting into the Pacific
Ocean reaching for the Hawaiian Islands.
So it's easy to see how difficult were contacts of people scat-
tered in remote communities distributed in such extensive
territory.
And now coming back to the subject of settlements. Almost
in desperation then those unhappy people cast around for
escape from the affliction of fevers and other ills. Their promised
land had not been realized.
In 1853 a group of men set out to explore the land. Just
how many and who they were is not quite certain. Kleng Per-
son, Anders Bretta, Ole Ween, Ole Person, and Karl Questad
were among them. Coming as far west as Fort Graham near
the present town of Whitney, they met a Norwegian, among the
soldiers stationed there, Nicalai Hanson, who told them about
the hill country beyond the Bosque River.
Riding on a mission, to them as weighty as that of the spies
of Israel searching out the promised land, one can easily sense
their story. Coming to the brakes at the edge of the hills over-
looking Bosque Valley, there was unfolded to them one of the
most beautiful visions of nature. No wonder they were seized
with emotion--almost religious reverence. There below them
lay untouched by human hand the goodly land, fairer than
they had dreamed. And wonder of wonders! This was only
an introduction to a multiplicity of other valleys, one beyond
the other, each separated by a range of hills--mountains they
called them. As they rode on over successive ranges, feasting
eyes on intervening valleys, each seemingly more charming
than the other, by unanimous conviction they decided once for
all that here and here alone would they cast their lot and
rebuild their homes.
It seems permissible in this connection to make a slight digres-
sion on the calcareous formation that singles out this Bosque
hill country. It is built up from marine deposits with whole
hills of radiolaria and other fossils. Emerging from the sea it
was once a dead level. Wind and water have eroded the valleys,
forming rich alluvial bottoms along the water courses, and
fertile plowlands right up under the hills. The hills, protected
by the remaining caprock, sometimes take the form of precipi-
tous limestone bluffs--at other times of beautiful gaps--and
occasionally a "Sugar Loaf" mountain, standing like a sentinel
in the middle of a valley. "Sugar Loaf Mountain" on Gary
Creek has all of these years been a gathering place for Seven-
teenth of May and the Fourth of July festivals. Erosion is still
in progress, eating its way back into the hills, extending a
labyrinth of lovely coves.
Here they found abundance of wood and water, and what
good water means is beyond the understanding of those who
have not experienced the trials of a hot climate with periodic
droughts. Here, too, was good building stone and a "lay of
the land" that makes for "hominess"; altogether, an ensemble
that strongly reminded them of the home valleys from which
they came.
After exploring many valleys they returned to their respective
homes in East Texas to perfect arrangements for removal the
following year. Anders Bretta and Ole Ween remained at the
camp on Upper Turkey Creek maintaining themselves by hunt-
ing. One day while hunting deer, Anders Bretta accidentally
shot himself and died. Karl Questad must have remained behind
for a time, for it is said he carried Bretta out of the brush
and buried him on what is now the Stark place, on Upper
Turkey Creek.
Early in 1854 many were getting ready to abandon their East
Texas homes for the move to the new-found land. The first
comers were Karl Questad, Jens Ringness and Ole Ween, fol-
lowed shortly by Hendrik Dahl, Berge Rogstad, Johan Bronstad,
Anders Huse--all from Hedmark, all with families except Ween
and Huse. Others arrived during the summer, among them
Salve Knutson, Terjo Nystel, Jens Halverson, Ole Burreson,
Knut Salveson, Knut Olson, Paul Paulson, and Aslak Nilson,
all with families. Others who arrived during the summer were
Lars Olson and Peder Spandberg, single men, from the Mjösen
region. Then there were Jens Jensen and Ole Person from
Arendal, Ketil Grimland from Aamli, and lastly, Kleng Person
with Ole and Knut Canuteson, who came down from the Illinois
settlements.
Some years later, about 1858, came another group, among
them Bersvend Swenson, Omund Omundson, Joseph Olson and
Ove Colwick; after that some arrived each year. About 1866
came another considerable number by sailing vessel direct to
Galveston--among these Ole Sinderud and family, Jens Jenson
and wife, and the Paulsons of Waco--all from Stange. In 1872
arrived one of the largest groups that came to Bosque, this too
by direct sailing to Gulf ports. After that arrivals came singly
or in small groups in diminishing numbers. Gradually emigra-
tion from Norway to Texas came practically to an end.
In 1872 Hendrik Dahl, after an absence of about 25 years,
returned to visit his mother in Norway. Hendrik Dahl was a
fine type of man, very capable, not given to much talk, con-
servative in all his statements; but coming from Texas, a re-
mote land about which were told such fantastic tales, the whole
countryside was aroused with curiosity. What was repeated
from one to the other heightened the fancy.
A land of continual sunshine, free from ice or snow or biting
cold, where horse and cow unhoused graze out the winter long,
where wool grew on bushes, where pork and grapes alike ran
wild. A mental picture took on the colors of oriental imagina-
tion. Many rallied around Hendrik Dahl to join him on his
return to Texas. A very considerable company was made up,
the writer's parents among them. Mother was a relative of
the Dahls; she already had a brother over here, and so it came
about that we too joined the expedition.
Some of the incidents in connection with this expedition may
be worth relating. There was little or no governmental super-
vision in those days, and emigrants by ships of other nationals
often did not fare so well. The expedition left Oslo (then
Christiania) in the early morning of November 2nd for Hull;
thence by rail to Liverpool, where the party was crowded into
an unlikely caravansery for over a week, awaiting clearance
papers for the ship--it was said a different and inferior ship
had been substituted for that scheduled.
Then to port in France, where embarked a considerable num-
ber of dark-visaged folk crowding the quarters. Coming out
on the Atlantic we were overtaken by terrific winter storms,
said to be among the worst in years. Swept out of our course,
nearly foundered, long delayed, provisions and water supply
menacingly lowered both as to quantity and quality, rations
reduced, many sickened, and three of the company died aboard
ship and were buried at sea.
which were freely shared with children and the sick, there
would, in all probability, have been much sickness and more
deaths. As it was, some who sickened became so enfeebled
from the hardships of the prolonged voyage and subsequent
land travel, that they died shortly after arrival in Texas, among
these Hendrik Dahl and the writer's own brother.
Other distressing experiences of the voyage need not be men-
tioned, except to point the difference in temperament and life
philosophy in time of great crises between the two groups of
which the emigrants consisted. During the height of that seem-
ingly never-ending storm, we ran into one of those huge seas
that occasionally sweep the ocean with irresistible force. It
seemed the ship was doomed--railing torn away, superstructure
smashed, emigrant quarters flooded. Trunks, tables, tin pans,
every conceivable thing not tied down washed back and forth,
men striving knee deep in water to recover their belongings,
while mothers seized their children and looked after the sick.
A wail of anguish arose from the frantic group of Mediterra-
neans, but I cannot recall a single unseemly cry from our party.
The same difference manifested itself on another occasion, when
the quarters suddenly filled with smoke and the crew came
rushing in with axe and pick and fire hose. Everything must
come to an end, so also this voyage, and we finally reached
Bosque just four days short of eight weeks after our departure.
Coming back to settlement activities, about this time occurred
an interesting thing which illustrates the fact that primary dis-
coveries often go by default to the credit of later application
of the same principle. Ole Ringness was driving an ox wagon
with a badly dished wheel over soft and wet ground; he noticed
that the dished wheel turned up the sod in plowlike fashion,
and there and then conceived the idea of the revolving plow-
share. He then hammered out several dished iron discs about
eighteen inches in diameter to put the idea to test. One of these
discs is in the Clifton College museum; two others are yet on
the Ringness farm. When Hendrik Dahl started for Norway in
1872 Ole Ringness accompanied him to New York, but there
took sick and died. It was his purpose to proceed to Wash-
ington and seek a patent for his invention.
Pioneer life is exhausting. The first generation wears itself
out in paving the way for those who follow; it leaves little of
time or substance for cultural pursuits or for the finer ameni-
ties of life. And yet in those who measure up to its re-
quirements, it frequently brings out types that so stand out in
strength of character and human worth that they earn our
willing tribute.
There was Karl Questad, a man of many points, of unusual
intelligence, a student all his days. A collector of books, rare
in extent and quality, when books were scarce. These he loaned
freely to hungry-minded folk--the writer feels deeply grateful
to his memory. He maintained a smithy on his farm where it
was his pleasure to do blacksmithing for the settlers without
charge, and, finishing the job, would bid them to his house for
meals, or join in a pleasant talk over afternoon coffee. The
old blacksmith shop still stands.
Then there was the Dahl farm, which stands in the memory
of old folks as the highest expression of cordial hospitality;
it was the gathering point of friends and kindred for miles
and miles around. On "Meeting Sundays" it was the accepted
gathering place, and everybody was welcome. They came on
horseback and by wagonloads. Under the magnificent live oaks
over acres of extent were tied up the horses and oxen of the
guests. Sometimes it was almost like a public gathering, yet
there was always room for everybody. The mystery is how
there was always an abundance at the profuse table built in
the yard under an arbor. The whole household joined in un-
affected hospitality, and the Dahl gatherings imparted good
cheer and a festive mood that tided over isolation and monotony.
Of all the splendid characters that the writer has met in a
lifetime of activities there are none that stand out with more
of human worth than Christine Dahl, the widow of Hendrik
Dahl. No one for counties around is so cherished in memory.
What the Dahl farm was to the lower settlement, so was the
Rogstad farm, only in a lesser degree, to the upper settlement.
Then there was Yörn Grimland from Aamli, ranking like a
chieftain among his clan. Without advantage of schooling, he
came to be unusually well informed, and as a judicial mind he
acquired an extensive legal knowledge and was employed in
many public capacities. Many a rankling dispute over land
lines was settled amicably out of court with him as arbitrator.
His reserve and temperament assured good counsel. He was
trusted and honored as few ever come to be.
The Indian frontier was a pet theme for romantic writers,
who themselves perhaps had never spent a day beyond the
confines of civilization. But they poured forth a flood of cheap
books, most of them lies and the rest romantic fancy. As a
matter of fact the Indians were never so numerous, nor nearly
so wild or savage as pictured. They were quite amenable to
human kindliness, where some degree of fairness was in evi-
dence. However, in obtaining his food supply for squaw and
papoose, he could never learn the awful distinction between
killing the wild deer of the brush and the half-wild yearling of the
settler, or the equally unforgivable sin of horse rustling.
Groups of Indians came and went according to season, but
the Bosque settlement was never very greatly disturbed. So far
as the writer knows, not one of the settlers was actually killed
by Indians, though Karl Questad barely escaped, pierced with
an arrow when they killed his work oxen. One and only one
was carried away, namely, a boy, Ole Nystel, who later was
recovered none the worse for his capture.
Texas, on coming into the United States, retained for herself
the public domain and maintained her own land administration.
The Federal Government, therefore, had no control and could
not extend mutual protection or mutual restraint through reser-
vations or Indian agencies. The Texas Indian became the victim
of ruthless exploitation and relentless pursuit. Furthermore,
intertribal wars perhaps did as much towards their final ex-
termination. The rapid settlement of the Ohio River States
pushed many "Trans-Allegheny" Indians across the Mississippi.
The amazing surge to the West and Northwest displaced other
Indian nations, the powerful Sioux among them. Numbers of
Indian tribes, dispossessed of their former hunting grounds,
and superimposed upon other tribes, presented a movement
which on a small scale reminded one somewhat of displace-
ments in Eastern Europe by Tartar pressure. The Indians,
therefore, in their struggle for existence came to fighting among
themselves for possession of hunting grounds. In this upheaval
extending southwestward, the Comanches actually exterminated
other Indian tribes, man, woman, and child, the Texas Apaches
among them, and in the process a number of missions of the
Spanish padres were destroyed. "Indios reducidos" in semi-
bondage to the missions could offer no effective resistance to
the "unreduced" Indians.
Beyond the confines of civilization, the world of living is
small. It is, therefore, strange that occasionally in such settle-
ments would be found persons seemingly strayed or lost, people
of culture, highly educated, trained in the finer amenities of
civilized society. The Bosque settlement had its share of these
"children lost in the wilderness." Most of them adapted them-
selves to circumstances, others were like a crippled wild duck
dropping down into a tame flock without ever becoming fully
domesticated. Among them was a woman engaged in newspaper
work, the former wife of Svend Föyn, originator of modern
whaling and inventor of the harpoon cannon. Coming first to
East Texas she there married Werrenskjold. Together they
organized a temperance society and proceeded to agitate against
slavery. In the antagonism aroused Werrenskjold was assassi-
nated, but his widow continued an idealist. Then there was old
man Durrie from the splendid "Vik" estate, of old world pres-
tige and fortune gone, a literateur, an accomplished linguist, a
delightful conversationalist, but hopeless in affairs, and helpless
in a pioneer settlement.
Others had suffered shipwreck in civilized society mostly
from drink, the curse of the times. An outstanding personality
of this unfortunate group was Gustaf Wilhelm Belfrage, a pol-
ished gentleman of the Swedish nobility with Scotch extraction.
Belfrage was perhaps the foremost entomologist of the time in
these parts of the United States. Some of the elder men who
then were boys remember him most kindly for the pocket money
they made in helping him catch bugs and butterflies. A rare
specimen would excite his enthusiasm and the "utmärkt Djur"
called forth liberal reward. And so to this day he is remembered
by the name "Belfrog Bug-catcher." Having completed a collec-
tion, mounted, numbered and classified it, he would ship it mostly
to European universities. Upon receipt of remittance there would
be a prolonged spree; when funds were exhausted, he would get
up a new collection to be forwarded with the same result--a
self-repeating cycle. But his valuable work of scientific classi-
fication contributed much to the basic knowledge of South-
western entomology.
Kleng Person looms large in the history of Norwegian settle-
ments. That after leading the way to so many new settlements
in the North, he would leave the mighty flood of "Westward
Ho" and seek out comparative isolation in the remote South-
west, indicated the surging adventure of his spirit even up to
death. With no turn for trades, even without desire for per-
sonal gain, he nevertheless exercised a strange influence over
the minds of men, and was ever the moving spirit in the estab-
lishment of new settlements. In appreciation for his efforts to
draw immigration to Texas, the legislature granted him one of
the choicest tracts of land in Neils Creek Valley. But Kleng
could not make use of anything. He transferred the land to
Ove Colwick, with whom he made his home during his declining
years, and there he died. A picturesque figure, a circulating
newspaper, at home and welcome everywhere whether in city
house, settler's cabin, or Indian tepee, unafraid, unconcerned,
he was called "a walking encyclopedia"; ready and willing at
all times to serve his fellows, he never thought of pay. He never
hesitated a moment to set out for Austin, always afoot, on
behalf of settlers' land matters. A pack on his back, a little bread,
a little grub stake, and not so particular about that--he fared
forth afoot three hundred miles there and back, returning with
accomplished mission, ready for the next.
If space permitted much could be added on early activities,
including church, school, and social development. In common
with Norwegian settlements everywhere the settlers at once set
to work for schools and churches. Out of their limited sub-
stance even small contributions meant real sacrifice; but it was
not long before schools and churches in the Bosque settlement
came to attain a standard distinctly in advance of the rural
average for that day and time. The first schools were mere log
shacks with split logs for seats, and an occasional hide-bottom
chair for the teacher. There were no glass windows, but an
arbor over the south door for protection from sun and weather.
Then came rock buildings with real lumber equipment. During
the pioneer period a hack or buggy was a luxury that few could
afford. The family rolled along in the ox wagon, while "Bull
and Brandy" took their own good time in the going. Actual
money was scarce, but hospitality and mutual helpfulness
marked all relations of life, for each and every one had endured
hardships; they knew the value of fellowship.
Although none of us would want to return to those primitive
conditions, it is doubtful, even with the miracles of modern
conveniences, if there is a real net gain in contentment.
FOOTNOTES:
on the shores of Lake Mjosen in Eastern Norway. In 1869, with his father,
Peder, his mother, Elli, his younger brother, Nicoli, and others, he sailed
westward for America. Mr. Arneson died February 7, 1941.
How to cite:
Axel Arneson, "Norwegian Settlements in Texas", Volume 45, Number 2, Southwestern Historical Quarterly Online, http://www.tsha.utexas.edu/publications/journals/shq/online/v045/n2/contrib_DIVL2405.html
[Accessed Thu Dec 4 12:58:02 CST 2008]
