In Camp near St Joseph Mo. [Missouri?]
4th May 1849
My dear Father & Mother,
In the last letter that I wrote home I
mentioned that I intended emigrating to California, and now on the
very borders of civilised America, I take this opportunity, the last
I fear I shall have for some months of either writing to or hearing
from you, we started from Chicago on Wednesday the 11th of April
with a wagon and three yoke of oxen the first hundred miles we
travelled was terrible the heavy rain that had fallen previous to
our departure had so saturated the low prairie ground on one route
that in some places it was with the greatest difficulty we got along
sometimes the mud was ankle deep in holes we had to pass over, at
other times crossing small rivers where the bridges had been swept
off by the spring freshet, we had to stop a day and a half and got
to Peru in just a week from the time we left, shipped on board a
steamer for St Louis and got there on Friday evening the 20th ult.,
where we remained till the Wednesday following when we again shipped
for this: St. Louis, I must not let pass without a short
description, it is on the western bank of the Mississippi eighteen
miles below the mouth of the Missouri, it contains some fifty
thousand inhabitants and resembles Belfast more than any town I have
seen in America, the houses are all built of brick and stone, narrow
streets and paved, the leves [levies?] or landing is constantly
crowded with steamboats, they run their bows ashore and are packed
in so closely that you could walk half a mile across them, it has
not however got the buildings Belfast has, it is the old part like
Ann street & Church Lane that it resembles, it does a very large
business, and it is a very healthy place, The Mississippi at St
Louis is almost a mile wide the water as muddy as you can imagine,
take a tumbler full and when it settles you will have 1/4 inch pure
yellow mud this is occasioned by the Missouri, as the Mississippi
before that river empties into it is a nice clear stream, we started
on the S.B. Paris for this place some 550 from the mouth of the
Missouri this river is the swiftest, and most difficult to navigate
in the United States it is in some parts from half a mile to 3/4 in
width and a sandbar across, the channel changing with every freshet
so that the best pilots will run aground, we were aground several
times but managed to get over during freshets. The river is
constantly washing away the bank on one side and forming on the
other, the large cotton wood trees with which the banks are covered
tumbling in on one side and forming inumerable [innumerable?] snags
and sawyers which make the river very dangerous, more boats are sunk
here than on any other river in the States from that cause, we
passed one wrecked about three weeks ago. On the other side as soon
as the bank is out of water it is covered with a new groth
[growth?] of timber which I am told will be only ten or twelve
years attaining a size, of 15 to 18 inches in diameter. So rapid is
vegetation we were seven days coming up sometimes not running more
than ten miles during the night, one night we were aground most all
night and in the morning there were six boats trying to find a
channel for up and two down the river we got through first, one boat
had to go and discharge part of her cargo to lighten her before she
could get over the bar, there have been several cases of what is
said to be cholera on some of the boats, one boat from New Orleans
with troops on board had seventeen deaths, we had none althogh
[although?] we had over two hundred passengers on board, there will
be as far as I can ascertain from the best authority some ten or
twelve thousand persons going across the plains this season, some
twelve hundred wagons have crossed the river at this point and some
three or four hundred yet remain in the neighbour, look in what
direction you may you see the encampments of the Californians
surrounded with the wagons and teams of oxen and mules, some of them
keeping up a constant firing as they are practising for the trip,
razors here are nearly out of use among us, and mustaches
[moustaches?] all the fashion, we have bought a four yoke of oxen
to-day which completes our team, we shall cross the river to-morrow
and make a final start on Monday, as soon as we cross the river we
are in the Indian territory. I am writing during my watch from 12
till 3 o'clock, and it is almost up, we keep guard every night now,
to prevent our oxen straying, as it might be difficult getting them
again. We are all well and in the best of spirits, eager for a
start, and as the grass has got high enough for the cattle we will
lose no time, so I must bid you goodbye for some months, write to
the care of E. & R.K. Swift, San Francisco or to be left till called
for at the Post Office.
5th May - I made arrangements with Thomas Warnock to
take charge of my remaining interest in Chicago, he will send you
the proceeds of it as soon as he can turn it into cash, his present
intention is to come to California next season.
I dont know whether I told you the names of my companions in
my last letter. they are E.G.P Whittleberger, Edwin Criggs and
myself, we go as Orr & Co., we will start today, so farewell for a
long time, in my next you will have an account of the country, my
love to all at home, Jane Ellen, Magaret Eliza and William Henry, I
shall write the moment I get to California, but as we intend
stopping sometimes at the mines before we go to San Francisco a
letter may not be able to reach you as there will be no postal
conveyances from the mines so be not disappointed if you do not hear
as soon as you expect. Give my best respects to all my friends, if
California stories are true it wont be long till I see them. I am
dear Parents, Your Affect. son, John M. Orr. I wrote to Uncle Robert
before I left Chicago and I sent you a paper from St Louis. Tell
William Henry I will send him a gold breast pin all the way from
California to wear instead of the brass one he got in the back
lane.
