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Grindstone used in Mill |
William Richard Waters
My Mother called me Will. I was born to
Richard Waters and Elizabeth Bennett in November of 1833 in Pangbourne, England
a large parish which sits on the banks of the Thames River. It is a lively
village adjacent to Monkey Island and the Waters Oakley Farm. It was a bitterly
cold day. My father was the town Miller. This held a reasonable amount of
prestige within the community, as in a traditional rural society, a miller
is often wealthier than ordinary peasants.
My sister, Jane was born a year prior to me and
in the following years, we were joined by sisters, Sarah, Elizabeth, Hannah,
Ellen, Mary Ann and two brothers, James and Henry. Ours was a large and busy
family. When I was about 10, we moved to the nearby village of Hurley. There my
father owned and operated the town Mill. We lived in the Miller’s cottage. Our
house was filled with love and most of the time we were fairly bursting at the
seams. As we grew, it was expected of all of us to work to sustain the family,
to learn valuable trades and move out on our own. I helped my father in the Mill and
became quite sufficient as did my brothers. My mother taught the girls to sew
and keep a fine home and some of them became quite talented dressmakers,
seamstresses and housekeepers in the homes of the wealthy. In those days, all
of the clothing had to be made by hand. It was difficult and time consuming
work.
We all attended school and were noted as
“scholars” in the early records. Because of the Early Elementary school act, we
were taught a variety of subjects to include: reading, writing, science, Latin,
math, drawing and the arts. It was a basic education and one that was not
controlled by the Church of England.
In 1851, I was a young man of 17 living in
Hurley with my family. Like my father, I was a miller also but yearned to
strike out on my own. Within a few years I had moved to Wellington Place in the
Fulham parish in Middlesex. There I found work as a miller; it’s what I had
known and continued to do for most of my life. I soon fancied a lovely young
woman named Emily Powell. We were married, 17 January 1860, at Walham Green in
the St. John’s church. Emily was born in Lane End, Buckinghamshire to Daniel
Powell and Rebecca Plummer in 1832. Her father was an innkeeper or in those
times called a victualler, or one who was licensed to sell alcoholic beverages
and to run an inn for travelers and others. Her older sister, Maria was a
bonnet maker. The inn was named Bismore Cottage.
Shortly after our marriage, we moved to the
Princes Risborough Parish, an agricultural village just a short distance from
Hurley. I was employed in the mill, of course, and in 1861 we welcomed our son,
Richard. In quite rapid succession, we welcomed Emily, Ellen, Annie and Eliza
Marie Anne. Sadly, Emily was in what those days were called feeble minded at
birth. But she was well taken care of and lived to be 70 years of age. Her
grandmother, Elizabeth Waters, left Emily an inheritance so that she would be
taken care of during her lifetime. It was a kindness not many would be equal to
show, especially during those early years of the 1900’s.
In 1869, Emily, my wife became very ill. She
passed away in July of that year in Amersham a parish of Buckinghamshire. I was
terribly heartbroken. The love of my life and the mother of our 5 children was
gone. We shortly thereafter, moved to Rickmanshire where my mother and sister
Mary Ann could assist with the children.. I was very sad and discouraged.
I now had a large family to support as my
father had also passed away that year of 1869 and I being the oldest son had
the responsibility for mother and my unmarried sister, Mary Ann as well as my
own five children. Many were telling of friends and family who had crossed the
ocean to America and were doing quite well. Being a miller was not very
lucrative and it was becoming more difficult there in England to make the kind
of living that I needed. I was hoping for my own land to farm and to acquire my
own mill. I was ambitious and hopeful, and decided to leave my young family in
the able hands of my dear Mother and other family that was living close by, to
try and make a better life for all of us in the land of plenty across the seas.
It was an agonizing decision but one that I felt was necessary. In October of
1871, I sailed to New York City and then settled in Minneapolis, Minnesota
where I quickly began working in a local mill. I met a lovely, kind young woman
from Norway who had been working in the city for a few years, Hannah Hansen,
who I married May 25, 1875. I worked diligently, sending home as much money as
I possibly could to those in England. My now 19 year old son, Richard joined us
in 1879 and worked at the same mill that I had in Minneapolis. By that time, I
had moved with Hannah and our young son, Charles, and daughter Stella, to the
small country community of Willmar, Minnesota which was closer to Hannah’s family in Lake
Elizabeth. There I worked at the flax mill for five years until we moved the short distance to an adjacent farm of Hannah’s father, Hans, in Lake Elizabeth.
When he passed away in 1892, we bought his farm and I had my dream of owning my
own land. Contact with my England family was difficult in those days and I’m
sure I didn’t send as much money as they were hoping. My plans of bringing my
girls to America soon evaporated and maybe they didn’t want to leave all that
was familiar in England. I now had six children here in America, a large farm
and a family also in England that I had great guilt about not being able to take
care of as I had liked or promised. My sons Charles, Hans, Willie and Henry
were growing boys and helped as much as they were able, but the burden of
running a farm fell on my shoulders and I was 59- which I felt was too old to
start anew. I quickly became discouraged and overcome. By no fault of anyone’s
but my own, I took my own life in September of 1893. I know my family was
devastated. I was buried in the Pioneer Cemetery along with an infant son that
had passed away a few years prior.
My mother, Elizabeth, passed away in 1903. Three
of my girls married and had families of their own that I never knew in England.
My son Richard, who married and had six children, eventually moved out west to
Ellensburg, Washington where he ran a mill and worked in agricultural
adventures. He passed away in 1934. My
mentally challenged daughter, Emily, lived with my sisters and other family
members, until she passed away at the age of 70. My lovely Hannah raised our children, tended to the farm and continued to be as lovely, kind as she was all those years ago. She died in January of 1920 on the farm in Lake Elizabeth.
No regrets in Life - only lessons learned
I think William was courageous. I hope
he is now finding peace with loved ones beyond the veil~
I have taken liberty here with his thoughts to make it more of a story and from his perspective to give the reader more of a glimpse of his life.
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Waters home in Lake Elizabeth, Minnesota |
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Hannah Hansen about 1870 |