AN ENGINEER'S VISIT TO AMERICA: CARL EDVARD NORSTRÖM'S JOURNEY IN 1848 LARS VON CELSING

Carl Edvard Norström is remembered as one of the pioneers of railway construction in . Born in Trollhättan in 1815, he early became involved in practical engineering work on the Trollhätte Canal—where his father was in charge of construction and maintenance—under Major John Ericson of the Naval Mechani• cal Corps. At the age of 21 Norström was appointed a lieutenant in the same corps. He was promoted to captain in 1841 and stationed in to develop harbor facilities. He married there in 1842. During Norström's younger years canal building had been seen as the key to developing internal communications, in Sweden as elsewhere, but by the 1840s increasing interest was beginning to focus upon railways, which for more than a decade were rapidly developing abroad, particularly in Great Britain and the United States. In 1847 a group of interested ironmasters in Värmland persuaded the Swedish government to send Captain Norström to the United States to study first-hand this new means of transporta• tion. Norström departed Karlstad on 5 May 1848 and traveled, via , Copenhagen, and Hamburg, to London, where, among other things, he had his first train ride to the West India Docks. From London he embarked for America on 31 May. His journey lasted altogether seven months, during which he kept a diary of 146 manuscript pages, illustrated with his own sketches, presently in the possession of Agnete Forslund (née Norström) of Gävle. This was published in abridged form in Kungliga Väg-och Vattenbyggnadskåren 1851-1937, edited by R. Smed• berg (, 1937), pp. 181-290, without illustrations, but it seems to have escaped the notice of historical research. In 1986, Lars von Celsing, Norström's great-grandson, privately published an account of the latter's life and career, Carl Edvard Norström. Den glömte järnvägsbyggaren (Stockholm, 1986, 32 pages), which in describing Norström's American journey in 1848 drew upon the travel diary. It is that section—comprising pages 8-17 of von Celsing's account—that is given in translation here.

69 In America, the young engineer was taken in hand by his older mentor Nils Ericson's celebrated brother, the inventor John Erics• son in New York, who deeply impressed Norström and whose recommendations opened doors for him throughout his American travels. Norström's diary shows great enthusiasm for American mechanical ingenuity, but it also reveals a fresh and attractive personality, observant and open to the experiences of a strange and exciting new world. It should be added that Norström's travel diary, as summarized by von Celsing, gives much interesting information about the European parts of the journey, including much incredulous commentary on London high society and a description of Schles¬ wig-Holstein during the war of 1848-49 there. Soon after his return to Karlstad in late November 1848, Norström designed Sweden's first railway, an eight-kilometer stretch connect• ing Lake Fryken with the Klara River, opened in 1849. Horses provided the propulsion for the first five years, until the first locomotive was constructed in Eskilstuna. In 1851, Norström was appointed to a new State Railway Commission, together with Nils Ericson, whose right-hand man he was in the construction of the Western Trunk Line from Stockholm to Gothenburg, between 1856 and 1862. He thereafter continued to play a leading role in Sweden's railway-building and is considered to have been the best theoretician among his peers in that monumental task. He died in 1871, aged 56 years. [ED.]

After twelve days' sojourn in London Carl Edvard boarded the full-rigger American Eagle for the journey across the Atlantic. There were no less than 347 passengers on board, of which 57 in cabin-class. And of all these passengers only two or three had return tickets! The English Channel, despite the season, was in a bad mood and could only be forced by constant hard tacking. Not even our Swedish Viking could stand up against the ravages of seasickness. Still, this did not prevent him—with the help of a good, stiff shot—from celebrating his sacrifices to Neptune in verse. Off Cornwall he passed Eddystone's celebrated lighthouse, built in 1757-59, which he sketched and described in suitably technical style.

70 Once out on the Atlantic the American Eagle ran into a strong southwesterly gale. "The ship was tossed haplessly among monstrous waves .... What most surprised me was that the masts were not swept overboard. The officers and crew nonetheless showed the greatest calm. . . . Never have I heard more impressive music than the shrieking of the storm in the rigging, than great Aeolian harp. A storm at sea is indeed one of the great spectacles nature has to show," the writer exclaimed lyrically. The storm died down and Carl Edvard had time to describe in detail both the ship and his fellow passengers, a fittingly motley group. Among others his attention was drawn to an English lord, "the very epitome of a penurious aristocrat who, affected by that malady so peculiar to that nation—'spleen'—roams throughout the world, like the shoemaker of Jerusalem, to find peace. On his back he carried a bird-cage with a half dozen small birds, his only company and that with which he is almost solely concerned. Although badly plagued with seasickness—really frightfully—he nonetheless travels as much as possible by sea, where his birds thrive best." After 40 days' sail, the ship finally reached New York on 9 July. The first impressions of the city—of mud and refuse in pouring rain—were not encouraging. "New York is not London," the arriving passengers unanimously agreed. Indeed, the unbelievably suggestive picture of New York's skyline silhouetted against the blue still belonged to the future. If Carl Edvard was later impressed by many private and public buildings he still held to his judgment. "No entirely beautiful street is to be found here. Even the most fashionable are badly paved and extremely dirty. . . . Everything looks imposing, but temporary and incomplete," he concluded. The density of traffic could likewise not be compared with London's. Nevertheless it was cheaper to travel by train and the American steamboats were much larger than any our travelers had ever seen. The day after his arrival Carl Edvard immediately sought out "Captain" and paid a few courtesy calls on, among others, the Swedish-Norwegian charge d'affaires, the Norwegian A. C. Löwenskiold. He now began his studies with Ericsson.1 Already after a few days Carl Edvard made an excursion to Boston, "a large and beautiful city, the second-largest commercial center in the States." He was here impressed by "many remarkably

71 beautiful buildings, great liveliness, a large and good harbor, and an unusually large number of beautiful women." Altogether he had to confess that he "never in his life saw so many truly lovely faces as now in America." His principal object of study was not however this distracting feminine beauty but rather the vast railroad depot in Boston, which thanks to his letters of introduction he was able to inspect under expert guidance. He did not tarry in the city, meanwhile, but departed by train at 6:00 o'clock the following morning. And in record time he arrived already by 6:00 o'clock the same evening in New York, even though the longest lap of the journey, 300 miles [sic], had been by sea. "The evening was spent with Captain Ericsson." Next day, a Sunday, Carl Edvard went to church. Grace Church on Broadway was then a newly built creation in shining white marble Gothic, with glowing stained-glass windows and silk and velvet textiles. Our young native of the North, accustomed to more laconic speech and to simple wooden pews, became quite ecstatic, calling it "the most beautiful church I have seen." He also took pleasure in the service, above all thanks to its musical qualities, manifested in magnificent choral singing and a "splendid organ." But the congregation had to keep quiet. It is one of the charms of a diary that its writer can freely jump between the most disparate subjects. A steady ingredient for Carl Edvard was, however, the mention of the work with "Captain Ericsson." "17 July. Wrote and drew all day. In the evening heard Christy's Minstrels, or a blackface show." This was "a band, as it is called here, of seven young musicians who, dressed and made-up as Negroes, performed music of a purity and ensemble such as I have never heard before." In short, Negro spirituals and a touch of Al Jolson, three-quarters of a century before his time. One day Carl Edvard gave a detailed description of the boarding house where he lodged for six dollars a week, "Very comfortable and highly elegant." Regarding dwellings, he noted further that New York was said to be growing at the rate of a mile a year toward the north. Manhattan Island was crowded, while across the river there was still unspoiled countryside. "That it will become the largest city on earth there can be no doubt." He described with approval the American custom of always serving drinking water with a piece of ice in it, as well as the

72 Americans' weakness for consuming ice cream "in altogether unbelievable quantities." "Women's Week" traditionally creates a commotion—"and often quite sharp competition"—among the Swedes in New York. They all have some Sara, Johanna, Margareta, or the like, to celebrate.2 Still, decorum is preserved, Carl Edvard hastened to add. "Al• though the gaiety, songs, and toasts were often boisterous, minds and memories were always clear and worthy of Sweden and the objects of celebration!" On 26 July: "Worked hard for two days, partly in the field, partly in the steam engine factory with Captain Ericsson." The following day Carl Edvard gave a lively account of the return of the victorious troops from the war against Mexico, an imposing parade as well as a dramatic spectacle.3 "Cheers and jubilation were mixed with the anguished cries of those who could not find their loved ones in the ranks." The revolving stage turns. Carl Edvard visited—in masculine company, be it noted—a great, five-story marble palace which proved to house "the world's largest boutique for gallantry." There a good two hundred "attendant cavaliers, the most rampant lions of fashion" sold all that feminine vanity might desire, and coquetry was part of the purchase. "Between 12 and 2 there here assembles each day all New York has to show of elegance, of ladies buying and trying on, and lorgnetted gentlemen." One evening, Captain Ericsson invited him to the "Italian Opera," evidently a kind of potpourri of variety acts. Back home in Karlstad Carl Edvard's young wife had her twenty-sixth birthday. At the stroke of 12:00 that night the host proposed "with a fine and courtly speech" a toast "in foaming champagne for her good fortune and happiness." Her husband added his silent prayer. Our America-farer had meanwhile resolved to see more than just New York and New England. On 31 July he therefore embarked on the steamboat Isaac Newton—then still a "luxury cruiser"—up the Hudson River and continued westward from Albany by rail to Rochester. There he boarded a canal boat to travel on the much-discussed Erie Canal, by now some two decades old, to Lockport." The craft this time was drawn by horses and in general looked less impressive, a veritable "Noah's Ark," in which the mainly black passengers were lodged at night in wooden bunks, three tiers high. Carl Edvard did not appreciate the odors on board and had the unpleasant feeling of being on a "slave ship."

73 Passenger boat on the Erie Canal. (From the diary, courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

Lockport is a place where the Erie canal is conducted over a ridge via six locks. "The work has been carried out with great elegance," and passage through each lock took nine minutes, faster than ever in Sweden, "where we have made a mistake with our many combined locks." If Lockport was only a passing point of interest for the engineer, Niagara Falls was clearly a major objective for this son of Trollhättan.5 The impression of it overwhelmed him, to the point that superlatives failed him. Carl Edvard fell into an almost religious reverie. He could not but consider "these unforgettable days as the loveliest time of my life." We are also given a full, dramatic description of his descent, "with a competent guide," beneath the falling waters at Table Rock. This, it seems, was a most slippery and deafening adventure, unsuitable for those with weak nerves. It brought him a handsome certificate, as well, undoubted• ly, as a lifelong memory. Niagara lay at that time close to the boundaries of certain Indian lands. Carl Edvard described at length in both words and naive sketches the feather-adorned friends of our childhood, these "natural inhabitants of America." He was convinced that despite all attempts to civilize them, their character and customs would remain primitive, even if he did not discuss their reputed blood- thirstiness. The Indians were remarkably "well formed and proportioned, although small and sinewy, [and] their women often real beauties," despite their disturbing tattoos. The contact evidently led the writer

74 A traveling Indian woman. (From the diary, courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

to fear less for his scalp than for his purse. "It is hard to leave" the exotic women, whose "brown complexion is not so dark that a passing blush may not be seen." That he was unable entirely to resist their attempt to sell their own handicrafts we may well understand under the circumstances. A small braided Indian bag is still to be found in the possession of delighted descendants. The journey continued westward by rail, now in the company of von Schneidau, a countryman and friend from New York who had turned up at Niagara Falls.6 In Buffalo they took the steamboat to Detroit across the great Lake Erie, five times the size of Lake Vänern.7 They passed "a pretty little town, Cleveland," now a mighty metropolis. Detroit, meanwhile, was less attractive, "the most unpleasant American town I have seen"—but its theater was pleasing. "I would like very much to be able to decorate our theater in Karlstad in the same style," Carl Edvard adds, somewhat unexpectedly. West of Detroit the railroad ended abruptly and our travelers had to continue by stagecoach over the most miserable roads, albeit through a beautiful landscape, "where in many places the primeval forest trees still stand undisturbed." Suddenly one of the coaches

75 overturned, "filled to capacity with nine females." No great harm occurred, however, and "once we got the door open the ladies were pulled out, one after the other, like hens out of a chicken coop." And soon "the cackling was in full swing again, as though nothing had happened."

An Indian family and their dwelling. (From the diary, courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

New Indian territories were crossed, but the savages' "Adam's costume" did not seem in the least to disturb the traveling ladies, Carl Edvard noted, himself evidently embarrassed for their sake. At length they arrived at St. Joseph on the shore of Lake Michigan, from whence a small steamer carried them in a little under eight hours to Chicago.8 During a brief stay there Carl Edvard was mostly together with the delightful von Schneidau family, whose romantic lot he described in detail. The former artillery officer and one-time pioneer was now the proprietor of a so-called Daguerreotype office, which is to say an early version of a photographic studio, and was making good money. His portrait of Carl Edvard with distinguished whiskers has remained a family treasure.9

76 Carl Edvard Norström. Daguerreotype taken by Polycarpus von Schneidau in Chicago, 1848. (Courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

Already by 11 August he had to continue on the Michigan and Illinois Canal to La Salle.10 There the news reached him that the river boat scheduled to depart from there immediately before had "blown up, thereby killing 40 passengers." Somewhat warily Carl Edvard sailed down the Illinois River and on 17 August out onto the majestic Mississippi, just north of St. Louis. In this "port city" our curious traveler visited "the highly remarkable repair docks," as well as some of the many shipyards. Over two hundred steamboats lay along the quays of the city and the forest of reeking smokestacks, normally two on each vessel, was "a most remarkable sight." Many were also in the yards for repairs, including three whose boilers had exploded, leaving a couple of hundred lives on the non-existent consciences of their owners. After careful study on the spot, our traveler, ever delighted by the theater, relaxed by attending "the tragedy, Othello." At these latitudes manners were quite evidently not entirely to the taste of one well brought-up in the Swedish manner. Carl Edvard noted—and illustrated—the Americans' unrestrained cus• tom of putting their feet up on tables when they sat on porches or

77 verandas and of conversing with passing ladies in this position, with their hats on their heads.

"An American in Conversation with a Lady." (Courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

He also found that freedom and equality, excellent qualities on paper, could, in the reality of a pioneer society, lead to various gaucheries. Traveling aboard steamboats it might happen that one's cabinmate would, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, "use your slippers, your toiletries, your toothbrush, etc., and all of this without asking your leave. I could give a hundred examples," he added. Neither was he really able to get over the behavior of servants, to say nothing about their pretensions, and he offered some drastic examples of this as well. From the Mississippi Carl Edvard now continued in an eastward direction and sailed up the Ohio River, passing Louisville and Cincinnati, whose beautiful location and overall charm he warmly praised. The traffic on the river was lively and highly mixed. Carl Edvard noted in particular the festively decorated sidewheeler aboard which a "cavalcade of artists" from New Orleans toured the region. "It looked quite delightful on board with bewhiskered gentlemen, lovely ladies, and laughing children on the upper deck, while on the lower deck one caught glimpses of the heads of sleek black horses. The steamboat bore the name Circus." For us at a later time its character is familiar enough, thanks to the immortal musical, "Showboat."

78 After the monotonous flatlands along the Mississippi, the landscape here became more appealing with high hills and "lovely villas." The writer considered the river valley well deserving of being called the "Ohio Rhine Valley." On 26 August he arrived in Pittsburgh, "the largest manufactur• ing city in all of North America." Its much-praised, beautiful location, on a promontory at the confluence of the Ohio and Allegheny Rivers, likewise aroused Carl Edvard's enthusiasm. "The coal mines found everywhere throughout this area lie embedded in the lushest southern vegetation." The city had a number of "unusually beautiful bridges, some of considerable length." Some were built of wood and roofed over in traditional American fashion, others were of iron and steel. Particularly remarkable were two "hanging bridges," one of which carried the canal on which he now traveled, the Pennsylvania Canal, in a channel suspended sixty feet above the Allegheny River, which was three times as wide as the Klara River.11 "Where are the limits of human ingenuity?" our young engineer asked in a state of technological euphoria.

A log cabin. (Courtesy of L. von Celsing.)

79 He stayed for three days in that city, mainly occupied at Knapp & Totten's drafting office, to which John Ericsson's recommendation had gained him entry. Naturally he also visited the extensive coal mines, dug horizontally into the hillsides—and had the time to become quite tired of the ubiquitous coal smoke which left its traces everywhere, inside as well as outside, on houses, clothes, and drawings. Nonetheless highly satisfied with all of value he had seen and learned he left "lovely Pittsburgh, the greatest smokehouse on God's green earth." Carl Edvard must answer for this paradox himself; later generations' experience of the gigantic industrial city have unfortunately left a more unambiguously sooty impression. The river journey's pleasures were by now nearly over. The Allegheny Mountains loomed ever higher. In Brownsville Carl Edvard had to change to a stagecoach for his ongoing travels through mountains and valleys. It would take some years yet before railroads penetrated this difficult terrain. Even a trip by stagecoach can nonetheless offer unanticipated attractions. In this case our solitary young traveler skirted the brink of "the most frightful precipices in the company of three ladies, two elegant older ladies and an uncommonly beautiful girl." As it turned out the latter was also uncommonly pert. Carl Edvard gave a perhaps revealingly full account of this lap of his journey in his diary. One gets the impression that our hero had a hard time holding his own in the repartee. He nevertheless became gradually more secure in the saddle and the animated match seems to have ended satisfactorily for his self-esteem. His national pride seems meanwhile to have been more ruffled. Here once again he found the impression confirmed that in general for Americans "the term 'Germany' includes not only Germany, Austria, and Holland, but also our Scandinavian lands." But, he added, "we have our iron and our genius to thank that they know something about Sweden, for the men all know about Swedish iron, John Ericsson, Berzelius, and Swedenborg and all the ladies know of Mile. Bremer and Jenny Lind."12 High up on the eastern slopes of the Allegheny Mountains the railroad had already been completed, "the best and by far the most beautiful I have seen in America." After twelve hours' travel Carl Edvard reached Washington, the capital. He was naturally im• pressed by the many stately buildings of marble, even though he found the number of monuments to individual persons excessive to his own democratic taste. He spent most of his time doing research at the Patent Office. He did not speak of any Swedish contacts.

80 His journey continued by rail via Baltimore and Wilmington— once a part of Queen Christina's New Sweden—to Philadelphia. Our traveler found himself there on a Sunday and for the first time he attended a Catholic mass. Its ornate outward form aroused the good Lutheran's indignation. "Little edified by what I had heard and seen, I went out into God's free nature and thanked Him from my heart that I was not a Catholic." In the next breath he expressed himself all the more warmly concerning the Quakers, whose view of religion, based more upon good deeds than upon "outward gestures," appealed most strongly to him. "They do not believe in any Hell. The worst, most fearful thing is a bad conscience, which follows us beyond the grave, tormenting as it does here. ..." Already by 4 September Carl Edvard was back in New York. The circle was closed. Only two days later he seems to have had reason to ask himself whether he might not perhaps have judged Catholicism too hastily. Two evenings in succession he heard from a nearby church "the purest, loveliest organ music together with a full choir of beautiful voices which performed a requiem on themes in constant varia• tion." It went right to his heart. "Awakened from my sleep, it required really strong nerves to bear this calmly," the writer adds. We, his readers, get in any case a better insight into his personality. Again he was in daily contact with John Ericsson. Together they one day visited the Telegraph Office. The telegraph, "this finest invention of our era," had come into existence only four years earlier through the discoveries of the American Samuel Morse. Already there extended "over all of America a network of telegraph wires along every railroad, every highroad, every river." Carl Edvard gave a concrete description of the technique involved and added, "someday a telegraph cable will connect America with Europe. . . . such is the progress of the times, such is the ceaseless striving ... of genius—and what are its goals? The time will come when nothing is impossible. . . ."'3 The days passed quickly. On 21 September the day of departure had already arrived. That morning Carl Edvard worked on plans for the Morris Canal, in the afternoon he was with Captain Ericsson for the last time. He summarized his impressions of "this man, so renowned in the history of the steam engine, with whom the world stands in such close communication. . . . This man, which a whole continent envies us for being able to call our countryman, whom the Americans bear aloft in triumph. . . . and whom our own government has not even awarded a measly star.""

81 "Already all who have been in contact with this unusual man know that he is a genius of the first order, with knowledge and a memory that astonish. I will gratefully acknowledge that his lessons have illuminated many fields for me, where formerly night's darkness had prevailed. Professionally I have gained more than during the whole of my previous life. I cannot thank him with words, but I shall seek to do so through accomplishments." For his homeward journey via Liverpool, Carl Edvard had chosen the Queen of the West, the largest and finest merchant vessel he had thus far seen. "Now I ask whether any person with any experience—be it ever so slight—of life at sea would not chose this proud, safe, elegant, and comfortable ship rather than a smoky, paddling steamship. Only he who has traveled for a lengthy period aboard a steam vessel and heard the constant, unbearable splash of its paddle- wheels, known that constant, nervous shudder, can comprehend the joy of coming on board a comfortable sailing ship, which dances so gracefully over the waves."15 We may readily believe him, even if this confession comes somewhat unexpectedly from this avid spokesman of new technol• ogy. Concerning the crossing of the Atlantic, this time he summarized only briefly. On 9 October he noted, "The Irish coast in sight—18 days after leaving America, truly a most unusually quick passage."

Translated by H. ARNOLD BARTON

TRANSLATOR'S NOTES

'John Ericsson (1803-89), the famous inventor of the screw propeller and designer of the Union warship Monitor during the Civil War, was the younger brother of Norström's friend and mentor Nils Ericson (1802-70), who later became renowned for railway construction in Sweden. (Note that the brothers spelled their surname differently.) 2According to Swedish custom a name is given to each day of the year, which is celebrated as the "name day" of all persons bearing that name. The week of 19-24 July is known as "Women's Week," since it consists entirely of women's name days, including Sara, Johanna, and Margareta. 3The Mexican-American War, which officially began in May 1846, ended with the Peace of Guadalupe Hidalgo on 2 February 1848, through which the United States gained most of its southwestern region. "The Erie Canal was constructed between 1817 and 1825.

82 'Trollhättan, the home of Norström's youth, is celebrated not only for the Trollhätte Canal, opened in 1800, which connects Lake Vänern with the North Sea, but also for its waterfalls along the Göta River. "This man, whose name Norström gives as "von Scheidern," it later becomes evident was Polycarpus von Schneidau, on whom details are given in Note 9. 'Lake Vänern, Sweden's largest. Norström's home town of Karlstad is located on its northern shore and was a port of some consequence, thanks to the Trolhätte Canal. "Before the first railroad reached Chicago in 1852, passengers and freight generally traveled from the East Coast to the Midwest over the water route Norström used: via the Hudson River, the Erie Canal, and the Great Lakes. 9Polycarpus von Schneidau ( Norström again misspells the name "von Scheidern") was born in Östergötland in 1812 and served as an officer in the elite Svea Artillery Regiment in Stockholm until he was forced to resign for marrying a Jewess. In 1842 they joined his friend Gustaf Unonius' Pine Lake settlement in Wisconsin. They moved in 1845 to Chicago, where they were among the city's earliest Swedish inhabitants. Norström's account indicates that von Schneidau was already active as a daguerreotypist—reputedly Chicago's first—in 1848. Jenny Lind is also said to have advanced him money for this purpose during her American tour in 1850. Von Schneidau is remembered for his helpfulness to many poor Scandinavian immigrants and in 1854 he was appointed Swedish-Norwegian vice consul in Chicago. He died in 1859. His early letters from Pine Lake to his family in Kisa, Östergötland, are traditionally credited with having inspired the first group emigration of Swedish peasants to the American Middle West, led by Peter Cassel, in 1845. See Ernst W. Olson, Anders Schön, and Martin J. Engberg, History of the Swedes of Illinois, 2 vols. (Chicago, 1908), 1:193-96. "The Illinois and Michigan Canal, which connected Chicago on Lake Michigan with the Illinois River at La Salle, was opened in 1838. From there the river was navigable down to the Mississippi at Grafton. "The Klara is Värmland's largest river, flowing through Karlstad into Lake Vänern. "Besides John Ericsson, the references here are to the chemist Jöns Jacob Berzelius (1779-1848), the natural scientist and mystic Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), the authoress Fredrika Bremer (1801-65), and the soprano Jenny Lind (1820-87)—the celebrated "Swedish Nightingale." It is interesting to find this confirmation that Fredrika Bremer was so apparently well known in America already in 1848, before her own visit there in 1849-51, which resulted in the publication of her classic, The Homes of the New World, trans. Mary Howitt, 2 vols. (New York, 1853); in Swedish, Hemmen i den nya verlden, 3 vols. (Stockholm, 1853-54). 13Norström's description of the American telegraph network at this stage is obviously overdrawn. In 1860 the Wells Fargo "Pony Express" would connect the end of the telegraph lines at St. Joseph, Missouri, with the more westerly parts of the country. Telegraph service reached San Francisco the following year. The first permanently successful trans-Atlantic telegraph cable was laid in 1866. "By a "star," Norström here means an official decoration. John Ericsson later received numerous distinctions, Swedish as well as American, and his remains, returned to Sweden in 1889, were given a hero's burial in in his native Värmland. 15The "steam packets"—paddlewheelers with auxiliary sails—went into regular service between Britain and America in 1838. The first steamship propelled by John Ericsson's screw propeller was launched in 1840. Sailing ships continued, however, to dominate the Atlantic passenger traffic until the later 1860s, following the Civil War.

83