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Mrs. Sarah Hester Maddock
Mrs. Laura Hester Phelps
Birth Place: Blomington, Indiana
Pioneer Father: Craven P. Hester
Birth Place: —
Date of Arrival in California: 1849
Pioneer Mother: Martha Hester
Birth Place: —
Date of Arrival in California: 1849
Remarks: Mrs. Sarah Hester Maddock daughter of Judge Craven P. and Martha F. Hester was born in Bloomington, Indiana and when a girl of twelve years commenced a journal of interesting events in her life. She kept this diary from 1849 when she started across the Plains until 1870 and the following lines are some excerpts from it.
Journal. Bloomington, Indiana March 20th 1849; Our party, consisted of father, mother, one sister and two brothers left this morning for that far off and much talked of country California. Our father started our wagons one month in advance, to St. Joseph Missouri our starting point. We took the steamboat at New Albany going by water to St Joseph, Mo. The trains leaving Bloomington on this memorable occasion is called the Missionary train, from the fact that the Rev Isaac Owens of the Methodist Church with a number of ministers of the same denomination, are being sent as missionaries to California. Our train numbered fifty wagons. The last hours were spent in bidding good-bye to old friends My mother is heart broken over this separation of relatives and friends . Giving up old associations for what? Good health perhaps. My father is going in search of health, not gold. We have been several days reaching New Albany on account of the terrible condition of the roads. Our carriage upset and all were thrown out. No one was hurt but we were detained several hours. My mother thought it a bad omen, and wanted to return, and give up the trip. We thought we would be more comfortable having our carriage with us. April 27th -49 St. Joseph Mo.; Here we are at last. We expect to remain several days, laying in supplies for the trip, and waiting our turn to be ferried across the river. As far as the eye can reach so great is the emmigration. One sees nothing but wagons. This town looks like a vast army on wheels. Crowds of people, lots of children, and lastly the cattle and horses upon which our lives depend. May 20th Sunday. We make it a point to rest over Sunday. Have a sermon morning and evening. I take advantage of this stop over, to jot down our wanderings during the week. To day we are 215 miles from St. Joseph on the beautiful blue river. Plenty of good water and good grazing for the cattle. When we left St Joe, my mother had to be lifted in and out of our wagon. Now she walks a mile or two without stopping. She is perfectly well. We are now in the Pawnee country. They are a dangerous and hostile tribe of Indians. We are obliged to watch them closely, and double our guards at night. These Indians never show themselves during the day but, come around at night, and steal cattle. When we camp at night, we form a corral with our wagons, and pitch our tents outside. Inside this corral we drive our cattle and have guards stationed outside of tents. We have a cooking stove made of sheet iron, a portable table, tin plates and cups, and cheap knives and forks also camp stools etc. We sleep in our wagons, on feather beds, and live on bacon, ham, rice, and dried fruits, molasses, packed butter, bread and coffee and tea as we have our cows we have milk. Occasionally an antelope is killed and than we have a feast. Sometimes we have fish on Sunday. Sunday June 3rd Today we are camping on the beautiful Platte river 315 miles from St. Joe. Sunday June 17 Goose Creek; There are several encampments in sight making one feel not entirely out of Civilization. So many thousands en route for the Land of gold. June 21st Started over the Black Hills. Sixty miles of the worst road in the world. Have again reached the Platte River, Here we had a great deal of trouble swimming our cattle over. We had to take our wagons to pieces. July 2nd During the past week we crossed the South Pass, the summit of the Rocky Mts. July 4th Ice springs; Had neither wood nor water for 52 miles. August 18 Hot Springs ; camped on a branch of Marys’ river. Aug 20 Humboldt River; We are now 348 miles from the mines. Sept 4th Stopped and cut grass for the cattle and supplied ourselves with water for the desert. Had a trying time. Several of our cattle gave out. Our journey through the desert. Monday 3 PM until Thursday morning at sunrise Sept 6th The weary journey of last night with the continual moving of the Cattle for water. Their exhausted condition and the cry of another ox down. The weary tidings of men and beasts, worn out with heat and famished for water, will never be erased from my memory. Just at dawn we beheld the Truckee River in the distance. Saved at last. The poor cattle kept on moving when they were knee deep in the water. The long dreadful desert had been crossed and we were safe and well. Sept 8th Crossed the Truckee river 12 times. Sept 11 Came near being drowned at one of the crossings, got frightened and jumped out of the carriage into the water, The currant (sic) was swift and I was carried down some distance before being rescued Sept 13th Arrived today at the place where the Donner and Reed parties perished. Two log cabins and the bones of human beings. The tops of the trees cut off at the snow lines was all that was left to tell the tale of that ill fated party. Crossed the summit of the Sierras. It was night when we reached the top. I shall never shall forget our decent to the place where we are now encamped. Our tedious march with Pine Knots blazing in the darkness and the tall pines towering above our heads. The scene was grand and gloomy beyond description We could not ride as the roads were too narrow. So we trudged along keeping pace with the wagons the best we could This is another picture never to be forgotten. It was a footsore and weary crowd that reached the Camping place that night. Sunday Sept 16, 1849. Yuba Valley. We are now 108 miles from Sutters’ Fort. October 6th Vernon California at the junction of the Sacramento and Feather Rivers. After a five months trip our party of 50 wagons now only 19 has at last reached the haven of rest. October 10th Freemont. This is a small town across the river from Vernon. My father has decided to remain here for The Winter, as the rains have set in and we are all worn out. We have had a small house put up made of boards with a hard floor. On this mother put a carpet we brought with us. The rooms are lined with heavy blue cloth. Our beds are arranged bunk style on the side of the room, back of these rooms we have pitched our tent and the back of the lot is enclosed with a brush fence. My father went to Sacramento to lay in a stock of winter provisions He found everything very high. Mrs Maddock describes at length the very wet winter The family moved in the spring to San Jose May 1857 . living at that locality many years