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The Story of Peder Anderson
    by translated and edited by Eva L. Haugen (Volume 26: Page 31)

THIS is the story of Peder Anderson, an early immigrant who arrived in America before the mainstream of Norwegians seeking a better future in the New World. The fact that he had lived by the sea as a youth undoubtedly brought the Western world readily to mind when his hopes for the future at home suddenly collapsed. Though he came empty-handed, few were as well prepared scholastically. His education, together with his undaunted determination and his keen mind, allowed him a freedom of action open to relatively few of his compatriots.

Anderson’s autobiography and a personal letter to Dr. Carl Wilhelm Boeck were recently found in the Boeck Papers in the archives of the University Library, Oslo. Ingrid Semmingsen, professor of history at the University of Oslo, asked the writer to cooperate on an article describing Anderson’s life as far as it could be reconstructed. This article, entitled "Peder Anderson of Bergen and Norway," will be published in the near future, in English, in Americana Norvegica, a series published by the Oslo University Press. The article is based on the material in the autobiography, but Anderson’s Story itself also deserves to be known as he wrote it.

—E.L.H. [32]


I was apprenticed to an apothecary in 1824, when I was almost fourteen years old. Apothecary Georg Herman Monrad {1} had requested my mother to allow me to come to him as an apprentice, and had in return promised to look after my future. I stayed at his Løve Apothek (Lion Apothecary) {2} for four and a half years, until his death, which occurred in October, 1828, when he was thirty-five years old. During this period, I had had private instruction in Latin and German and also some in playing the violin. I had the same teachers as Ole Bull, though at different hours. {3} I had also had an opportunity to broaden my schooling so as to become familiar with ancient and modern world history, as well as with that of my native country, together with its political and economic circumstances. My time was spent with all kinds of useful reading far into the night, as much as time permitted a young person who had his other duties as apprentice to discharge. My benefactor had filled my thoughts with the most brilliant prospects of studying at Christiania [now Oslo] and other universities; but all at once these hopes were dashed to the ground by his death. {4} For three months I was like an imbecile.

A short time after Monrad’s death, I left the apothecary shop. I had no money and my mother was without means. My father had died five weeks before my birth, leaving my [33] mother with eight children from my father’s two marriages. {5} Further study was out of the question. So I started working in a yard-goods store, where I stayed for one year. I really had very little to do, as most of the work consisted of standing in the doorway and calling out to passing farmers to "come in and buy," but I met with very little success. This was the most unpleasant year of my life. Monrad had been goodness itself, a man who did kind deeds in all directions. This employer was the opposite; I felt as if I had come out of the light into the darkness, and I got a loathing for trade. During this period, I took instruction in double-entry Italian bookkeeping, after which I passed the required examination in order to become a merchant.

But I had had my mind on America for a long time. My oldest half-sister was living there, having married an American in Bergen. {6} He was a mate, but when the trade between Boston and Bergen ended, he brought her to America. I had always been fond of her, and the map of America was my favorite study. As usual, I stared so long at the map that the whole thing became a black spot. Having gained my mother’s consent, I decided to leave. In order to do this, I borrowed money with which to pay for my journey. I left Bergen the 3rd of May, 1830, and arrived in Hamburg the 17th of May to look for passage to America, and I found it after some waiting. {7} I arrived in New York from Hamburg on August 7th, after fifty-six days. That made all together seventy days from Bergen, a trip that is now possible by steam in fourteen to Sixteen days. A week later I became twenty years old.

After staying some weeks with my widowed sister in Boston, it became necessary for me to do something for my livelihood. Since I did not speak English and had no money, I was advised to go to sea, and so I did. I went to Savannah [34] as a sailor and from there to Trieste in the middle of winter in stormy weather. From there I sailed back to Savannah and Providence and was paid off in Boston. The ship’s owners made me good offers to stay with the vessel, but I would have none of that. I considered it a dog’s life. I felt that no one should go to sea except those who had killed their parents; for them it would be a proper punishment! {8}

I looked about me and decided to begin work in a woolen factory and for a five-year period to learn about its various aspects. During that time, I would become acquainted with the language and the country’s political, religious, and domestic institutions. This industry, as well as the country itself, was and still is in its infancy. I felt that when I had learned all this — and something better offered itself — I could accept it; if not, I could continue in the same position.

Before I left Norway my expectations had been quite modest. Since nobody knew me here in America, I felt I would be satisfied if I were only a shoe-shine boy, if I were able to support myself for five years and to become acquainted with the country’s language and circumstances, as before mentioned. But my expectations were far exceeded. As I was going to spend the rest of my life in this country, I now considered it necessary to become just as well informed about all its institutions as any native-born person.

So every third month (later monthly), when I was paid, I went away for about a week, mostly on foot. I visited colleges, academies, factories, state and other prisons, hospitals, and the like. Though I worked thirteen hours a day, often extra hours, too, I would read after work. I read the best educational books dealing with the history of the country, from its earliest discovery and settlement to the present. I studied the country’s political, religious, and economic life. [35]

This process was slow at first. As a sailor I had learned practically nothing of the language. On the vessel the entire crew consisted of seventeen persons of nine different nationalities, of whom only three persons could speak good English. {9} In the factory there were many Englishmen, Scots, and Irishmen, who spoke poor English and with whom I talked very little. The best instruction I had in pronunciation was listening to the minister’s sermon on Sundays. When he read from the pulpit the hymns that were to be sung — as was the custom — I followed along. Because I had little money, I had bought an old Walker’s Unabridged Dictionary without a cover for a quarter dollar. This I studied diligently.{10}

Learning the new language was an uphill piece of work. In winter, when it was cold, I stayed in bed with a lamp near me at a suitable distance, holding the book with one hand while I warmed the other in the bed; for four years I slept altogether only four hours out of twenty-four. Many a night I didn’t go to bed at all. However, my acquaintance with several languages helped me to learn English quickly. I came from work, went to my room — sometimes shared with another worker — sat down on the chair, read, fell asleep, and when the bell rang for work the next morning, I would leave at five o’clock. This was an interesting time for me. It was as if a new world was opening before my eyes. Three times a day I made observations of the temperature and of the wind and weather; in this way I became familiar with the climate. This project lasted three years. I ladled in so much knowledge that I considered this period to be the happiest of my life, and my activity the most appropriate, no matter what the future would hold for me. I was without cares, had no worries for the morrow, and, even though I was penniless, I felt as rich as Croesus. I was not and never have been in debt. I wanted to be independent, and therefore I politely refused [36] an offer of aid to continue my studies at Harvard University near Boston, the thought of which was quite unpleasant to me, even loathsome.

During the period of these projected five years, spent in three different factories, I was also librarian of the libraries belonging to the churches of the villages where I lived. In addition, I took part in several of the meetings of the religious sects, in order to get acquainted with them. I then became assistant bookkeeper in the office of a large woolen company in whose factory I had worked. {11} This I did to familiarize myself with the technical expressions of the English language. When I had been in this position about a year, the great crisis of 1837 bankrupted the majority of business concerns — and with them many factories, including the one for which I worked, leaving me without employment. To hunt for another position was only to throw money away; therefore I took the situation calmly, for I had enough money on hand to pay one year’s personal expenses.

I then decided to indulge an old hobby of mine — drawing, which I had practiced without ever having had an hour’s lesson or seen a demonstration done by anybody. Having no knowledge of the rules of the art, I began very quietly to make a drawing of the village of Ware in which I lived, so that if I did not succeed, I should not be laughed at. My work was soon found out, copies were demanded, and several hundred were lithographed. {12} They were twenty-four inches long and sold for one dollar apiece. I sent some of them to friends in Worcester, from whom I soon got an invitation to make a drawing of their city. Some money was subscribed, I accepted the offer, and I was fortunate enough to make a [37] good drawing of this beautiful place. It was lithographed and several hundred copies were printed. {13}

For several years, I had had the wish to hear the debates of Congress. I decided to go to Washington and to make a drawing of the city, and so I did. I was supplied with letters of introduction to several members of the Congress, both of the House and of the Senate; these letters made the purpose of my visit known. I also had an introduction to Pastor Gurley, {14} which my friends had kindly given me; he was a friend of the family of Mr. Custis. I went to the capital in February, 1838. I was most pleasantly received, especially by several of Massachusetts’ former governors. {15} They regarded me as a friend; two of them came from Worcester. Mr. Gurley said that [for the drawing] I should take the view from Arlington House, so much talked of during the [Civil] War, where 13,500 Union Army soldiers now sleep — those who fought for man’s right to his freedom, to his work, and to self-government. {16} He went with me to the other side of the Potomac River, directly opposite the Capitol, and here the entire city lay before me. That was the right spot.

Mr. Custis was a grandson of Madame [Martha] Washington; the general [George Washington] had no children, but he was Mr. Custis’s guardian. {17} I was soon introduced and my purpose explained. I received the most cordial welcome. Two Negroes were assigned to wait on me, and I was looked upon as a member of the household. I was successful in getting a good drawing of the city; it was then lithographed and [38] several hundred copies were sold. {18} It was thirty-six inches long; I believe that my three drawings are until now the only ones made of these cities.

In all, I remained in Washington about three months. It was for me a most delightful time. Major [Robert E.] Lee, of the Topographic Engineering Corps, later General Lee in the proslavery war of the rebel troops, was married to Mr. Custis’s daughter. {19} He lived there and often brought officers of the highest rank in the army and navy home to dinner with him. He also brought others of the higher rank in the civil service, so that I became acquainted with many of the country’s leading men. Mr. Custis, much esteemed because of his close relationship to the Washington family and therefore thoroughly acquainted with the Father of his Country, as Washington was called, gave me a detailed account of the great man. I had recently read Sparks’s Letters and Correspondence of Washington in fourteen volumes and his Life of Washington in one volume. {20} When Mr. Custis showed me so many things that had belonged to Washington and told me so much about him, which only he could do, I felt as if by pure good luck I had found a treasure by falling into such good hands.

My almost daily association with our good members of the Congress resulted in my being ushered to the best [gallery] seats, along with their families, to hear the most famous and most eloquent debaters. I was often invited to visit them in the evening; I was also a guest of the great statesman of the West, Henry Clay, leader of the Whig party, one of "Nature’s Noblemen." It was my good fortune to hear these great statesmen’s views on the country’s politics and principles. In return for this, I could only answer their questions about my own country’s circumstances, and I was happy that I had used my time well in my younger years. All this was due to my [39] constant wish "to make good use of time." When not otherwise occupied, I would draw, and what formerly had been a source of enjoyment now became a source of even greater value, which was enduring, as I had several years’ correspondence with these great men. In addition the drawings were very profitable — I made fourteen hundred dollars, paid six hundred for lithographing, and my travel expenses were also covered.

But business was beginning to pick up. I had fulfilled my wish to spend some time in Washington, in which I had succeeded beyond expectations. Now I wanted to get back to work, and I managed to do so.

In October, 1838, I went to Lowell as head bookkeeper and paymaster in the then largest woolen factory in the country, with a capital of $300,000, a sum that gradually increased to one million dollars. {21} I did not find the books in the best of order, and for many weeks I stayed in the office as late as midnight or to one or two in the morning working until I was satisfied with them. There I felt at home; my practical experience with a factory’s inner workings, my systematic bookkeeping, a familiarity with chemical colors from pharmacy days, and the deep interest which I took in the operations of the company as if it were my own — these won me the manager’s (the treasurer’s) complete confidence and friendship, as well as that of the other officials of the company. I used the almost unlimited power which this support gave me to the advantage of the company. I was not treated as a subordinate but as a friend.

At an early age I had nourished the hope that some day I might be of some use to my fatherland. That time now seemed to have arrived. I had thought a great deal about the mountain dwellers, as well as the fishermen and others with their miserable and wretched livelihood, and I had considered ways of getting them transferred to the fertile plains [40] of America, where I knew they could, after a few years’ steady work, live a carefree life in the future. I laid my plans early for stimulating emigration; with the help of a thermometer I had studied the country’s climate carefully and had made copies of my findings to send to Norway. I also gathered exact information about the climate in the West and about general conditions there, as well as how to get there most cheaply from Europe. I reported all this in letters to Norway, where several were printed in the newspapers. {22} This activity resulted in a large correspondence, which I answered carefully. I explained what one who came here, with or without means, could expect; in addition, that it was necessary here as well as in any other country to be "abstemious, honest and industrious" — without which good qualities they had better not come. I also said that work was respected and was well paid. To those who sought me out personally (and they have not been few) I reported the same, and also enjoined them to remember that "wherever they might be they represented their native land; that if they conducted themselves well, their native land would be honored by it; that those who came after them would reap the advantages of it; and that the opposite behavior would have the opposite results." I advised all of them to go to the West. No emigrant should remain in the large Atlantic cities but should go out into the interior.

Norway seemed to lie in hibernation — so did its government. I hoped that emigration would wake the country up and that it would examine its antiquated laws and shape them to the needs of the present. Immigration of importance began about the year 1840. First a few came, then several hundred and finally they arrived by the thousands every year. A short time after the Norwegians reached America, the Swedes came, and then the Danes.

At first the Norwegians settled in Illinois, where the [41] Mormons then had their headquarters. Since my countrymen had no teachers of religion with them, I feared that they would unite with the Mormons. I wrote to my former pastor, Dean Flottmann, {23} who now was a bishop pro tem, to urge the Norwegian government to send ministers with the emigrants; this was later done. {24}

According to the United States census report of 1870, there were, for the most part in the Western states, 114,000 Norwegians, 78,000 Swedes, and 40,000 Danes born in Scandinavia. With their children born in America, there were 600,000 all told. I think that emigration has been a good thing for Norway, and it has also been a good thing for America, where the Norwegians are respected.

In my early years I took a great interest in Bergen’s Museum, which had been founded by Monrad, President Christie, {25} and his brother, {26} the collector of customs, Lyder Sagen, {27} and others. I sent pottery and flint tools, specimens found here similar to those discovered in Norway, as well as important books too numerous to mention. I also furnished specimens of trees growing in Massachusetts — sixty-three in all — which, I believe, are more than are found in all of Europe. I was thus able to give President Christie a special treat. I had frequent correspondence with him in the last fifteen years of his life.

All these activities (along with those of the company in the daytime) I had to do at night. My strong constitution gave way, and I began to feel unwell. I wanted to go to Europe after seven years in the service of the company, but was persuaded to postpone the trip. A new factory city was to be founded almost two Norwegian miles farther down the [42] Merrimack River, which drives Lowell’s machinery and would also furnish the power for this one. It was believed that a daily drive in the fresh air back and forth with horse and buggy would be beneficial to my health, The city was named "Lawrence" after a highly respected and wealthy family of four brothers — leading figures in two of Boston’s largest business houses. One of these brothers represented America for several years as minister to London. {28} Members of this family were the chief administrators of the factories with which I was connected for so many years.

It became my responsibility to supervise the building of a large woolen factory. It had a capital of one million dollars, which later increased to $1,650,000. To give an idea of its size I should mention that the building by the river was 999 feet long, four stories high, with a wing on each side about 600 feet long. Within these wings, there are three buildings 200 feet long, five stories high, and fifty feet wide, with some others inside [sic], forming in all a longish square. . . . The company now employs, I believe, 2,300 workers and manufactures a great variety of yard goods for ladies and gentlemen; it is the largest mill of its kind in the country.

Meanwhile my health had deteriorated. I had a severe case of inflammation of the brain, and in 1849 I visited Europe together with the factory’s manager and his wife, who also had been ill. We separated in Manchester, England, and I went to Norway after a nineteen-year absence. I also visited several other parts of Europe and, after five and one half months’ leave, I arrived home completely restored in health.

Early in 1850, I bought a share in a factory which was starting a new type of wool-yarn manufacturing in this country. {29} I became manager and remained so for twenty-three years — until my completely deteriorated physical [43] condition, after a serious illness, forced me to give up all business and to visit Europe to regain my health. {30}

The capital of the factory is $150,000. It uses 1,000,000 pounds of wool a year in an unwashed state or 500,000 pounds in a washed state. It uses 8,000 cans of olive oil which, with other lesser items, adds up to $300,000 to $400,000 annually. The wool is made into worsted yarn of various qualities and is bought by weavers and manufacturers with small capital. It is made into fringe, pouches, epaulettes, Brussels, tapestry Brussels, ingrain, and other floor coverings, as well as into many additional products.

The long-fibered wool is at times difficult to acquire, because it comes for the most part from South America’s east and west coasts, Asia Minor and other parts of Turkey, Russia by the Black Sea, and Persia.

A couple of years after my return from Europe [1849], several articles dealing with leprosy among the Norwegians in the West appeared in the American newspapers. Some of them even advised that the Norwegian immigrants should be barred from the country. {31} As an apprentice at the pharmacy, I had brought medicines to the hospital many times and had been among lepers a great deal. Since that time I had collected information concerning what had been done, especially by Dr. Danielssen, to lessen the severity of the disease. Therefore I wrote an article for one of Boston’s leading newspapers, using my own name and explaining between what latitude and longitude it was prevalent in Norway. I pointed out that it was not contagious, that I had been among lepers perhaps a hundred times, that it was in the blood and that it often did not show up in the second generation but in the third. I added that undoubtedly the disease was worsened, if not caused, by bad cooking of [44] probably even worse food, as well as by uncleanliness, and that it would perhaps completely die out in the West with its better food and milder climate. This article was reprinted in several journals and seems to have had a reassuring effect, for since that time nothing more has been heard of this matter. {32}

In order to stimulate a more active trade between America and Norway, I wrote an article about ten years ago for the Boston Daily Advertiser. I explained that Norway could get its goods directly from the United States at lower prices than by going through several hands. I also wanted to inform Americans about what kind of people they would be dealing with, as well as to turn the path of tourists to Norway in their wanderings about Europe. This article was based on statistics of 1860 or 1861, wherein were shown Norway’s income and expenditures, the size of her merchant marine, and so on. I accompanied this article with a comprehensive historical sketch from the earliest to the present times, as correctly as I remembered it and as the few inadequate materials at hand permitted me. My contribution was copied by several journals in addition to Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine in New York, and I hope that it has been of some use. {33}


Rome, Hotel D’Allemagne, October 17, 1873

Professor W. Boeck, M.D. {34}

Christiania, Norway

Honored Sir:

Since I left Christiania, you and the few hours when we had the pleasure of talking with you and your family have [45] often been the subject of my wife’s and my conversation. My wife in particular has cause to remember you kindly, as she appears to be convinced that she had been dangerously ill and that your experienced competence prevented her illness from having worse consequences. She often says: "I wish I had asked the kind Doctor Boeck whether I was dangerously ill and what was the matter with me. I shall always keep that kind and gentle man in most pleasant memory." In this judgment I concur with all my heart. When we left Christiania the next morning, everything was done for her comfort, with the result that she continued to improve.

I often regret that I did not myself consult you and ask you to examine me carefully. A man of your experience could not have failed to give me the most dependable information and the best advice to follow, but the thought of the English saying "Too many cooks spoil the broth" has always prevented me. My neighbor at home, Dr. Savory, {35} is a man of many years’ experience and skill; he has visited Europe several times and also America’s institutions in order to study his science thoroughly, and I have great faith in him. Perhaps my improvement is as great as I have cause to expect, for I can walk about four miles on level ground without feeling too tired, but after walking a little while uphill or up some stairs, I feel oppressed and my breathing is heavy. Doubtless I am at least as improved as I can expect, when I recall that I have been weak the last seven years until the serious illness this winter and spring robbed me of the little energy I did have. I have always had such strength and good health, up until seven years ago, that I sometimes felt as if I could fly when I wanted to walk some distance; when I think of that, perhaps I feel my weakness more than I should.

Sometimes I take one gram of quinine or one of the French Dr. Blanchard’s pills in the course of a day, sometimes a glass of sherry wine; or I mix a little sugar and cognac in [46] water and drink a little gradually with my dinner, though this last rather irregularly while I am traveling.

What I wish to know is whether my method is right. The body performs its functions well in every respect; my appetite is fairly good and I sleep well, but I am troubled by a slight chronic diarrhea which has improved slightly since my last illness. Before I left home on May twentieth, I could not walk a thousand feet without panting like a steam engine. Now I can walk as mentioned above. Perhaps my improvement has been as rapid as I have reason to expect. Would you, when time permits, give me your opinion and advice?

I saw very little of Christiania. I felt somewhat tired after the journey across Norway’s mountain regions, as well as concerned about my wife’s health, for she has always been so well and still is. Norwegian etiquette requires the visitor to pay the first call, and I did not know what people were in the city that I knew or that knew me or cared to talk with me. I was too weak to get around much.

We have had a most enjoyable tour through Europe, from the far north to the far south, and our travel plans for enjoying an even and comfortable temperature have been highly successful. While a great many people we meet complain of the dreadful heat they have been subjected to, we have had 65 to 75 degrees Fahrenheit, seldom either above or below, in the shade. This has had a pleasant effect on me, because excessive heat would have bothered me and enervated me greatly. We have been favored with the most comfortable weather, rarely having rain during the day — and that was mostly in the Norwegian mountains — so that we have had good opportunities to visit palaces, galleries of sculpture and paintings, churches, monuments, antiquities, and to view nature — all of which I know you have seen! My family has assiduously looked at everything and made observations in their journals. {36} I have not done so much of [47] that this time, but I have rested a great deal, as I saw so much on my previous tour of Europe. {37}

We arrived here on the eighth of this month and have used the time well, seeing some of the many antiquities in this ancient city, which has pleasantly surprised me. Tomorrow we leave here for Pisa, Turin, and Geneva, in the last of which we spent five days coming here. Now we shall stay there two days and then go on to Paris and remain there three weeks, after which we shall be in England ten or twelve days. We shall leave for home from Liverpool on November 27, bound for Boston on the Cunard Line’s steamer Atlas, so that we can be in America between the 7th and 10th of December.

If you should have time to write me a few lines, would you kindly address the same to Andrews & Co., No. 10 Place Vendôme, Paris, to reach me by November 12, or to England, Care of Messrs. Mcalmont Bros. & Co., 15 Philpot Lane, London, E.C., by November 25.I have refrained from writing letters or reading very much — only the daily telegrams, so that I should know something about what is happening in the world. From Norway I have had hardly anything except reports about family affairs. From relatives on both sides in America, we hear often — all are well. {38} The financial crisis over there has hurt many speculators, for whom I have no sympathy, but in such times many innocent people suffer — and this I deplore. The crisis did not come unexpectedly for me. There is a great hullabaloo about the high railroad rates. If my advice had been taken in the West as it was in Massachusetts, the trouble would have been prevented. In part there are grounds for [48] the opposition to the railroads, which will now enter into politics, but many of the complaints are groundless. Passenger rates are much higher in Europe than in America, and travel on the railways here is less comfortable. I have no knowledge of European freight rates.

After having seen Europe, we are well content to have our home in a country where we enjoy so many conveniences and comforts, where religion and Sundays are respected, where work is honored and well paid, and where the humblest laborer can have meat on his table daily and educate his family well.

Have many emigrants left Norway this year? Please remember me most kindly to your wife and daughter, in which greeting my family joins me. What pleasure it would give us if we could see you in our house in Lowell! Everywhere in Europe I find that prices have increased on everything. Pardon these last lines, which are written in the dark.

P. Anderson

P.S. The grapes are superb and cheap here — three to four shillings a pound. They are the only fruit I eat — the others are tasteless in comparison with the American variety. {39}


<1> Monrad (1793—1828) served his apprenticeship under Dynner at the Løve Apothek. He was willed the pharmacy by Dynner in 1809 and took it over after he had passed his pharmacist’s examination; Jørgen Brunchorst, Bergens Museum 1825—1900 (Bergen, 1900).

<2> It was common to name pharmacies after animals or birds. in the case of the Lion Apothecary in Bergen, the figure of the lion still stands above the door, but with a new coat of gilt.

<3> Ole Bull and Anderson had more in common than violin lessons. Ole’s father was also an apothecary and the owner of the Swan. When Bull came to America on his concert tours, he usually visited Anderson; Martha Fisher Anderson, Diary, 1846—1905, in the possession of Mrs. A. C. Wainwright, Deer Isle, Maine.

<4> A painting of Monrad, which belonged to Anderson, is now the property of Mrs. Wainwright. Anderson named his only child of his first marriage, and his only son, Herman Monrad.

<5> His father, Peder Andersen, was a shipwright. His mother, Ingeborg Olsdatter Herstad, died in 1837.

<6> Birgithe Anderson was married in 1815 to William Whitmarsh.

<7> Passage most likely was on the Maria Elisabeth of Hamburg, captained by I. Fokkes A watercolor of the ship by Anderson, dated 1830, is in the Possession of Mrs. Wainwright.

<8> Papers, Seamen’s Protective Association of Savannah, in the National Archives, Washington, D. C. The ship was the Mogul of Boston. She left Savannah January 1, 1831, bound for Trieste and returned May 28 to the same American port. A watercolor by Anderson with the legend "Passing the Island of Sardinia, February 16, 1831" is owned by a great-grandson. Carl Lincoln, Jr., Ligonier, Pennsylvania.

<9> From the crew list we see that all the men had English-sounding names, but obviously some of them were of non-Caucasian origin.

<10> John Walker, A Critical Pronouncing Dictionary and Expositor of the English Language (Dublin, 1794, New York, 1807).

<11> Probably the Hampshire Manufacturing Company, which went bankrupt in 1837. Anderson gave Ware as his address on November 22, 1836, when he filed his "declaration of intention" to become a citizen of the United States, according to the records of the county clerk at Northampton, Massachusetts.

<12> Copyright was granted on October 7, 1837, by the District of Massachusetts’ clerk’s office; Copyright Records, Massachusetts, 12:189, in Rare Book Room, Library of Congress. To date, no copy of this picture has been found.

<13> I. N. Phelps Stokes and Daniel C. Haskell, American Historical Prints, 140 (New York, 1932). The I. N. Phelps Stokes Collection is in the New York Public Library and contains the Worcester print.

<14> Ralph Randolph Gurley (1797—1872) was graduated from Yale in 1818. He was educated as a minister but never ordained. An agent of the American Colonization Society, he suggested the name of Liberia for the country in Africa where Negro freedmen were resettled.

<15> They included: John Davis (1787—1854), who served as governor of Massachusetts in 1834 for one term and again in 1841; Levi Lincoln (1782— 1868), who was governor from 1825 to 1834; and George Nixon Briggs (1796—1861), who was governor from 1843 to 1851.

<16> Arlington House is now a national museum in Arlington, Virginia.

<17> George Washington Parke Custis (1781—1857) was an American playwright.

<18> A copy is in the I. N. Phelps Stokes Collection.

<19> Mary Randolph Custis Lee (1806—1873).

<20> Jared Sparks (1789—1866) was a historian, educator, editor, and president of Harvard.

<21> The Middlesex Manufacturing Company. Anderson is listed as "clerk" in the Annual Advertiser, a supplement to the Lowell Directory (1839).

<22> It has not been possible at this time to identify Anderson’s letters in the Norwegian press.

<23> Johan Balthasar Flottmann (1786—1869) was a pastor of Nykirken from 1823 to 1864, and was dean from 1843 to 1861.

<24> It is known that private groups sent ministers and that immigrants in this country would send calls to Norway for pastors, but this was also done on private initiative.

<25> Wilhelm Frimann Koren Christie (1778—1849) was a statesman and a lifetime director of Bergen’s Museum.

<26> Werner Hosewinckel Christie (1785—1872) was collector of customs.

<27> Lyder Sagen (1777—1850) was a teacher and author.

<28> Abbott Lawrence (1792—1855) was also a statesman. He was founder of the textile town of Lowell, Massachusetts, a representative in Congress, and minister to Great Britain from 1849 to 1852.

<29> The Baldwin Manufacturing Company of Lawrence, Massachusetts.

<30> Anderson left on the Cambria, May 9, 1849, and returned to Lowell on October 17,

<31> James C. Richmond wrote an article, in the form of a letter to Dr. Wainwright, dated September 20, 1852, in Bergen. It was printed in the Evangelical Catholic, a New York periodical, and reprinted in the New York Times of December 27, 1852.

<32> Anderson’s letter was printed in the Boston Atlas of February 26, 1853, and reprinted in Living Age, 37:33—34 (1853). As printed, the letter was signed only "Lowell, Feb. 12, 1853."

<33> The article, entitled "Norway and Its Commerce, was printed in the Boston Daily Advertiser of November 5, 1862. It was reprinted in Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine, 47:530—34 (1862).

<34> (Carl) Wilhelm Boeck (1808—1875) was a doctor of medicine.

<35> Charles A. Savory (1813—1892) was a doctor of medicine who came to Lowell in 1848.

<36> The family returned on the Olympus, arriving on December 9, 1873. The passenger list includes Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, their twenty-four-year old daughter, Anne, their twenty-three-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, and another daughter, Isabelle, aged seventeen. Isabelle was the only one to marry.

<37> According to Mrs. Anderson’s diary, her husband had read to the family from his journals after he returned in the fall of 1849. These journals have been lost.

<38> Anderson had helped a number of relatives to come to this country. Some of them lived in his household for a time.

<39> Peder Anderson died on July 27, 1874.

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