HISTORY OF MARGARET REESE WILLIAMS PIONEER OF 1864
Margaret
Reese was the daughter of David E. Reese and Mary Thomas. She was born 3 March 1845 at Myrther
Tidville, South Wales.
The eldest
of seven children she grew up through many hardships; never having had a day of
schooling in her life. She could neither read nor write yet when the settlement
time of the year came she could figure in her keen mind and give the correct
answer quicker than those that were figuring with pencil and paper, working out
the problem of shares. She could never tell just how she had done it but there
it was correct. Her eldest son, Jon, tells this of her.
At the age
of six years Margaret began working at different things in order to help her parents provide for the family. When
she grew older she even did heavy manual labor around the coal mines and iron
foundries. At sixteen she became converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter Day Saints. She immediately began to save a little out of her meager
wages to pay her way to America.
That was her only desire—to come to Zion.
When she was nineteen she had saved enough to pay her way. A group of Saints,
some of whom she knew, were leaving the British Isles
in May 1864 so she decided to make the trip with them. She was the only member
of her family on the boat and the first one to embrace the new religion.
On May 19, 1864 she set sail
from Liverpool and was on the water six weeks.
The passengers were all sea sick most of the way across but Margaret felt no
ill effects.
This little
company of Saints were at Winter Quarters only a few
weeks when they with the George G. Bywater and Thomas E. Jeremy Company started
out for the Rocky Mountains. She had one very
dear friend on the long journey, Eleanor Griffiths, she had three small
children. Margaret and her friend walked every step of the way across the
plains, which was one thousand miles. Most of the way they carried one of the
children on their backs. There was much suffering and some lives lost on the
way.
Margaret
had a sense of humor but there was nothing frivolous about her. She told of
once when they crossed a stream a certain young man offered to carry her
across. She refused so he picked up another young lady and proceeded through
the water. Just as he got about in the middle his foot slipped and down they
both went and were soaking wet for the rest of the day.
The company
landed in Salt Lake City
on October 26th. It was only a few days later that Margaret and her
friend traveled on foot down to Beaver
County to stay with friends there,
some two hundred miles south of Salt
Lake. For a year and a
half she worked for different people in Minersville, Greenville and Beaver. It was then that she
met David Edward Williams. After a short courtship they were married and went on
a homestead in the little community of Greenville.
Her health was good and nothing seemed too hard for her to do. Her husband was
twenty-three years older than she but was very good to her and they loved each
other dearly. I have often heard her quote, “It is better to be an old man’s
sweetheart than a young man’s slave.”
Together
they built a little adobe house which they lived in all the rest of their
lives. They had thirteen children, seven daughters and six sons. She taught
them from their cradle to work and take care of things. Nothing ever wasted or
was destroyed. Economy was her nature. She was very precise. There was only one
way to do a thing and that was the right way. She was a beautiful housekeeper,
cook and seamstress.
This couple
endured hardships without complaint. They always thanked their Heavenly Father
for helping them to come to Zion.
No one was ever turned away from their door. In times of need they were always
the first to help.
There was
an Indian camp below the south side of their field and the squaws came many
times to her for help. One time a squaw came running in to her saying that her
old Indian was coming to kill her. He had come home
drunk and had stomped and scared her little boy to death. She had interfered
and he had taken after her. Margaret put her in a cellar under the floor then
placed a rocking chair over the opening and began rocking her baby. The old
Indian came asked for his squaw. She told him she didn’t understand what he had
said and told him not to cross her thresh-hold. He waited around outside for a
long time then went back to the camp. When he was gone she let the squaw out
and gave her some dinner. That squaw would have given her life for Margaret
after that.
Margaret
was like a mother to the whole town of Greenville.
She always was willing to help others. She remembered the ages and could relate
instances of almost every person born in the little town. She had a wonderful
memory. Although she could not read she could remember every word for word what
others read to her, or almost every one. While she was
still young she used to walk all the way to Minersville occasionally and
sometimes carry her baby. The road was on the opposite side of the river
through the canyon that it is now. After she was left a widow she was one
hundred percent capable about her business. They say of her that although she
could not take a pencil and figure she would have the problem solved in her
bright mind as quickly as the person with whom she was dealing could figure it
on paper. She was never beaten out of a penny nor did she ever beat any one out
of a penny in her life.
She was a
widow for seventeen years. She served seven years as Relief Society President
and did all in her power to better the town and the people. She kept her own
little home intact and visited around with her children in her later years. All
of them and their families loved her and appreciated her visits and would try
to influence her to stay with them longer. But one of her characteristics was
that when she made up her mind to do a thing she could not be changed very
easy. She would set a date for going home when visiting the children and would
not be changed. She had a great power of discernment and always heeded it. She
is an inspiration all of her children and grandchildren.
Margaret
Reese Williams passed away at her little home where all of her thirteen
children were born and reared, at the age of seventy-two, 5 January 1917 in the arms of her
devoted son, George R. Near the last she spoke these words. “I want to go to
David Williams.” She was buried beside her beloved husband in the Greenville Cemetery. She has a large and righteous
posterity, namely: Thirteen children and eight grandchildren and many, many
great grandchildren.
Written by a daughter, Rachel Williams McKnight
(Copy obtained from the DUP
Museum, Salt Lake City, Utah)
