St.
Clair County Obits
ALBERT WHALEY
Osceola Sun
1886
Gone To Rest
Died - at his residence six miles northeast of Osceola, Mo. on Jan. 3,
1886, after a lingering illness of three years, Albert Whaley, age 81
years, 9 months and 10 days.
Deceased was born in Bourbon County, Ky., March 23, 1804, and
imigrated to Marion Co., Mo., with his parents in 1821, while the
state of Missouri was yet a wilderness.
On December 16, 1826, he led to the hymenial altar Miss Mary F. Bird
with whom he lived for nearly sixty years and who still survives him.
To them were born thirteen children, seven sons and six daughters, ten
of whom are now living five of whom are now citizens of St. Clair
County.
Until age laid its burden upon him, as it must us all, he was an
active energetic business man, and by frugality, industry and strict
integrity he won ample fortune and a host of friends. During the war
he lost by torch and the hands of marauders, the fruits of long years
of patient toil and was himself thrown into prison for refusing to
obey the dictates of foreigners and strangers, and swear allegiance to
the land of his birth and inheritance won by the blood of his Sires on
the plains of Valley Forge and Yorktown, and subsequently defended by
the sword of his father, Capt. Edward Whaley, in the bloody struggle
of 1812.
At the close of the war he went West, returned to Texas, thence to
Arkansas and finally settled down in St. Clair County, Mo. where he
secured a quiet home for the few remaining years of his life.
During his long and eventful life he maintained throughout the
strictest integretiy, and the most unfaltering devotion to his family
and freinds. A safe councilor, a true friend, a kind and affectionate
parent, a devoted husband, and a patient sufferer he met the messenger
of death as he had met every turn in fortune's pate, with firmness and
decision and without a murmer.
He leaves no gold nor estate as an inheritance, but that which is far
better; he leaves a character which, having been tested in the
crucible of war and adverse fortunes had proved absolutely
incorruptible; and inheritance that will live when all the gold of
earth shall have turned to dross.
Being dead, yet shall he live
All is not loss when we bear out our Dead.
Under the sod in their coffins to lie
Then sadly return to desolate homes
To weep and to mourn as the days go by
and miss the sound of their coming feet
And listen no more for their voices sweet.
