Lexington Intelligencer, June 24, 1899
In Memory of John McFadin
Lexington, Mo., June 16, 1899
The discovery of gold in large quantities on the American river, California, December 25, 1847, created great excitement throughout the country. The news spread over the country during the fall and winter of 1848, and the excitement caused by the reports of increasing richness of the mines caused many to prepare to go to that distant land in the spring of 1849.
On the 26th day of April, 1849, seven men, citizens of Lexington, with two wagons loaded with supplies left their homes and friends and started on the perilous journey to the Eldorado of the west. The seven men were Gabriel Brown, John McFadin, William Jones, James Harnett, William P. Tyree, James Hale and the writer.
They went to New Santa Fe, an outfitting post near Westport, and eight miles south of Kansas City, then known as Westport Landing. There they united with thirty-two others, having eleven wagons, and organized a company. Gabriel Brown was elected captain.
The company left New Santa Fe May 2nd, 1849. The country from there to the settlements in Sacramento Valley, a distance of 1,800 miles, with the exception of a few whites at the three military posts on the route, was inhabited by wild beasts and many tribes of savage Indians, some of them hostile to the whites. The trip was one of privations, hardships and dangers. Many who started became discouraged and returned to their homes. None but the strong, determined and courageous pursued the journey.
We were informed by experienced travelers over the plains that the trip could not be made in less than one hundred and twenty days, and with many it required six months.
Our company, with one exception, was composed of young, vigorous men, anxious to reach the new land of Ophir. We determined to shorten the time and make the quickest trip of the year. In this we succeeded, and reached Sacramento city the first day of August, just ninety days from the time we left New Santa Fe.
I can not give a history of this interesting trip, but will refer to one incident, as it is connected with a sad event of recent occurrence.
On the night of the 16th day of June, 1849, fifty years ago today, the company camped in the south pass of the Rocky Mountains, on a highland, described by Freemont in his guide book at the Summit. In was 8,800 feet above the level of the sea, and was the highest ground over which the emigrant road passed before reaching the snow covered ranges of the Sieras. To the east a short distance were springs whose waters flowed eastward into the Atlantic Ocean. West of the camp a half mile was Pacific Spring, the waters of which through a long, tortuous journey found their way into the Pacific. This point was regarded as the half-way post to California. We had made it in forty-five days.
The scenery around us was grand and sublime. To the south was high ranges of mountains, whose tops were whitened with snow. To the north, in the distance, was the Wind River Mountains, whose peaks, covered with eternal snow, reached high in the heavens, beyond the ken of man. As we stood there, almost lost in admiration, we were inspired with buoyant hopes that we would soon end our journey and reach the land of gold.
Today, just fifty years after that event, I followed the remains of John McFadin, one of my mess mates, to the cemetery, and assisted in laying him away in the grave. At the grave stood two, James Hale and myself, who were with him that night.
Another was there who is connected with his trip to California. In company with Capt. Meredith T. Moore he left San Francisco on his return in November, 1851, and arrived in St. Louis in January, 1852. Capt. Moore has recently removed to Lexington, and was present to pay the last tribute of respect to his memory.
There were but few better men who made the eventful trip that year. Full of energy and determination, he was always at the post of duty. No service was to great for him to perform. No post too dangerous for him to occupy. His honor and integrity was never questioned in California, that land of demoralization, and he left it for his home with a character untarnished.
I may be forgiven for the egotism of mentioning the name of one other member of that company. It is William R. Morrison, of Illinois. On that trip he went with us, and displayed those qualities of mind and heart that since elevated him to the high position he now occupies before the country, and won for him fame and renown. No better, truer or nobler man ever journeyed across the wilderness to California.
Robert Hale.
Info Provided By: Member # 47526185
In Memory of John McFadin
Lexington, Mo., June 16, 1899
The discovery of gold in large quantities on the American river, California, December 25, 1847, created great excitement throughout the country. The news spread over the country during the fall and winter of 1848, and the excitement caused by the reports of increasing richness of the mines caused many to prepare to go to that distant land in the spring of 1849.
On the 26th day of April, 1849, seven men, citizens of Lexington, with two wagons loaded with supplies left their homes and friends and started on the perilous journey to the Eldorado of the west. The seven men were Gabriel Brown, John McFadin, William Jones, James Harnett, William P. Tyree, James Hale and the writer.
They went to New Santa Fe, an outfitting post near Westport, and eight miles south of Kansas City, then known as Westport Landing. There they united with thirty-two others, having eleven wagons, and organized a company. Gabriel Brown was elected captain.
The company left New Santa Fe May 2nd, 1849. The country from there to the settlements in Sacramento Valley, a distance of 1,800 miles, with the exception of a few whites at the three military posts on the route, was inhabited by wild beasts and many tribes of savage Indians, some of them hostile to the whites. The trip was one of privations, hardships and dangers. Many who started became discouraged and returned to their homes. None but the strong, determined and courageous pursued the journey.
We were informed by experienced travelers over the plains that the trip could not be made in less than one hundred and twenty days, and with many it required six months.
Our company, with one exception, was composed of young, vigorous men, anxious to reach the new land of Ophir. We determined to shorten the time and make the quickest trip of the year. In this we succeeded, and reached Sacramento city the first day of August, just ninety days from the time we left New Santa Fe.
I can not give a history of this interesting trip, but will refer to one incident, as it is connected with a sad event of recent occurrence.
On the night of the 16th day of June, 1849, fifty years ago today, the company camped in the south pass of the Rocky Mountains, on a highland, described by Freemont in his guide book at the Summit. In was 8,800 feet above the level of the sea, and was the highest ground over which the emigrant road passed before reaching the snow covered ranges of the Sieras. To the east a short distance were springs whose waters flowed eastward into the Atlantic Ocean. West of the camp a half mile was Pacific Spring, the waters of which through a long, tortuous journey found their way into the Pacific. This point was regarded as the half-way post to California. We had made it in forty-five days.
The scenery around us was grand and sublime. To the south was high ranges of mountains, whose tops were whitened with snow. To the north, in the distance, was the Wind River Mountains, whose peaks, covered with eternal snow, reached high in the heavens, beyond the ken of man. As we stood there, almost lost in admiration, we were inspired with buoyant hopes that we would soon end our journey and reach the land of gold.
Today, just fifty years after that event, I followed the remains of John McFadin, one of my mess mates, to the cemetery, and assisted in laying him away in the grave. At the grave stood two, James Hale and myself, who were with him that night.
Another was there who is connected with his trip to California. In company with Capt. Meredith T. Moore he left San Francisco on his return in November, 1851, and arrived in St. Louis in January, 1852. Capt. Moore has recently removed to Lexington, and was present to pay the last tribute of respect to his memory.
There were but few better men who made the eventful trip that year. Full of energy and determination, he was always at the post of duty. No service was to great for him to perform. No post too dangerous for him to occupy. His honor and integrity was never questioned in California, that land of demoralization, and he left it for his home with a character untarnished.
I may be forgiven for the egotism of mentioning the name of one other member of that company. It is William R. Morrison, of Illinois. On that trip he went with us, and displayed those qualities of mind and heart that since elevated him to the high position he now occupies before the country, and won for him fame and renown. No better, truer or nobler man ever journeyed across the wilderness to California.
Robert Hale.
Info Provided By: Member # 47526185
Lexington Intelligencer, June 24, 1899
In Memory of John McFadin
Lexington, Mo., June 16, 1899
The discovery of gold in large quantities on the American river, California, December 25, 1847, created great excitement throughout the country. The news spread over the country during the fall and winter of 1848, and the excitement caused by the reports of increasing richness of the mines caused many to prepare to go to that distant land in the spring of 1849.
On the 26th day of April, 1849, seven men, citizens of Lexington, with two wagons loaded with supplies left their homes and friends and started on the perilous journey to the Eldorado of the west. The seven men were Gabriel Brown, John McFadin, William Jones, James Harnett, William P. Tyree, James Hale and the writer.
They went to New Santa Fe, an outfitting post near Westport, and eight miles south of Kansas City, then known as Westport Landing. There they united with thirty-two others, having eleven wagons, and organized a company. Gabriel Brown was elected captain.
The company left New Santa Fe May 2nd, 1849. The country from there to the settlements in Sacramento Valley, a distance of 1,800 miles, with the exception of a few whites at the three military posts on the route, was inhabited by wild beasts and many tribes of savage Indians, some of them hostile to the whites. The trip was one of privations, hardships and dangers. Many who started became discouraged and returned to their homes. None but the strong, determined and courageous pursued the journey.
We were informed by experienced travelers over the plains that the trip could not be made in less than one hundred and twenty days, and with many it required six months.
Our company, with one exception, was composed of young, vigorous men, anxious to reach the new land of Ophir. We determined to shorten the time and make the quickest trip of the year. In this we succeeded, and reached Sacramento city the first day of August, just ninety days from the time we left New Santa Fe.
I can not give a history of this interesting trip, but will refer to one incident, as it is connected with a sad event of recent occurrence.
On the night of the 16th day of June, 1849, fifty years ago today, the company camped in the south pass of the Rocky Mountains, on a highland, described by Freemont in his guide book at the Summit. In was 8,800 feet above the level of the sea, and was the highest ground over which the emigrant road passed before reaching the snow covered ranges of the Sieras. To the east a short distance were springs whose waters flowed eastward into the Atlantic Ocean. West of the camp a half mile was Pacific Spring, the waters of which through a long, tortuous journey found their way into the Pacific. This point was regarded as the half-way post to California. We had made it in forty-five days.
The scenery around us was grand and sublime. To the south was high ranges of mountains, whose tops were whitened with snow. To the north, in the distance, was the Wind River Mountains, whose peaks, covered with eternal snow, reached high in the heavens, beyond the ken of man. As we stood there, almost lost in admiration, we were inspired with buoyant hopes that we would soon end our journey and reach the land of gold.
Today, just fifty years after that event, I followed the remains of John McFadin, one of my mess mates, to the cemetery, and assisted in laying him away in the grave. At the grave stood two, James Hale and myself, who were with him that night.
Another was there who is connected with his trip to California. In company with Capt. Meredith T. Moore he left San Francisco on his return in November, 1851, and arrived in St. Louis in January, 1852. Capt. Moore has recently removed to Lexington, and was present to pay the last tribute of respect to his memory.
There were but few better men who made the eventful trip that year. Full of energy and determination, he was always at the post of duty. No service was to great for him to perform. No post too dangerous for him to occupy. His honor and integrity was never questioned in California, that land of demoralization, and he left it for his home with a character untarnished.
I may be forgiven for the egotism of mentioning the name of one other member of that company. It is William R. Morrison, of Illinois. On that trip he went with us, and displayed those qualities of mind and heart that since elevated him to the high position he now occupies before the country, and won for him fame and renown. No better, truer or nobler man ever journeyed across the wilderness to California.
Robert Hale.
Info Provided By: Member # 47526185
In Memory of John McFadin
Lexington, Mo., June 16, 1899
The discovery of gold in large quantities on the American river, California, December 25, 1847, created great excitement throughout the country. The news spread over the country during the fall and winter of 1848, and the excitement caused by the reports of increasing richness of the mines caused many to prepare to go to that distant land in the spring of 1849.
On the 26th day of April, 1849, seven men, citizens of Lexington, with two wagons loaded with supplies left their homes and friends and started on the perilous journey to the Eldorado of the west. The seven men were Gabriel Brown, John McFadin, William Jones, James Harnett, William P. Tyree, James Hale and the writer.
They went to New Santa Fe, an outfitting post near Westport, and eight miles south of Kansas City, then known as Westport Landing. There they united with thirty-two others, having eleven wagons, and organized a company. Gabriel Brown was elected captain.
The company left New Santa Fe May 2nd, 1849. The country from there to the settlements in Sacramento Valley, a distance of 1,800 miles, with the exception of a few whites at the three military posts on the route, was inhabited by wild beasts and many tribes of savage Indians, some of them hostile to the whites. The trip was one of privations, hardships and dangers. Many who started became discouraged and returned to their homes. None but the strong, determined and courageous pursued the journey.
We were informed by experienced travelers over the plains that the trip could not be made in less than one hundred and twenty days, and with many it required six months.
Our company, with one exception, was composed of young, vigorous men, anxious to reach the new land of Ophir. We determined to shorten the time and make the quickest trip of the year. In this we succeeded, and reached Sacramento city the first day of August, just ninety days from the time we left New Santa Fe.
I can not give a history of this interesting trip, but will refer to one incident, as it is connected with a sad event of recent occurrence.
On the night of the 16th day of June, 1849, fifty years ago today, the company camped in the south pass of the Rocky Mountains, on a highland, described by Freemont in his guide book at the Summit. In was 8,800 feet above the level of the sea, and was the highest ground over which the emigrant road passed before reaching the snow covered ranges of the Sieras. To the east a short distance were springs whose waters flowed eastward into the Atlantic Ocean. West of the camp a half mile was Pacific Spring, the waters of which through a long, tortuous journey found their way into the Pacific. This point was regarded as the half-way post to California. We had made it in forty-five days.
The scenery around us was grand and sublime. To the south was high ranges of mountains, whose tops were whitened with snow. To the north, in the distance, was the Wind River Mountains, whose peaks, covered with eternal snow, reached high in the heavens, beyond the ken of man. As we stood there, almost lost in admiration, we were inspired with buoyant hopes that we would soon end our journey and reach the land of gold.
Today, just fifty years after that event, I followed the remains of John McFadin, one of my mess mates, to the cemetery, and assisted in laying him away in the grave. At the grave stood two, James Hale and myself, who were with him that night.
Another was there who is connected with his trip to California. In company with Capt. Meredith T. Moore he left San Francisco on his return in November, 1851, and arrived in St. Louis in January, 1852. Capt. Moore has recently removed to Lexington, and was present to pay the last tribute of respect to his memory.
There were but few better men who made the eventful trip that year. Full of energy and determination, he was always at the post of duty. No service was to great for him to perform. No post too dangerous for him to occupy. His honor and integrity was never questioned in California, that land of demoralization, and he left it for his home with a character untarnished.
I may be forgiven for the egotism of mentioning the name of one other member of that company. It is William R. Morrison, of Illinois. On that trip he went with us, and displayed those qualities of mind and heart that since elevated him to the high position he now occupies before the country, and won for him fame and renown. No better, truer or nobler man ever journeyed across the wilderness to California.
Robert Hale.
Info Provided By: Member # 47526185
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