William Richard Waters

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. 

Waters home in Lake Elizabeth, Minnesota

Hannah Hansen about 1870