William Greenwood was born March 4, 1819 in Heptonstall, Yorkshire,
England, to William Greenwood I and Sarah Utley. The elder William was a
blacksmith by trade, but at an early age he got a spark in one of his
eyes. In trying to doctor it, he lost the sight of both eyes, so he
never saw most of his thirteen children. He and his wife Sarah, all of
his children, and some of his brothers and sisters, joined the LDS
Church in England in 1840-41, and they emigrated to America. Although
he was blind, he became quite handy at doing things with his hands such
as making various articles of furniture, really specializing in good
bedsteads.
The family came across the ocean on the ship "Tyrene" which landed at
New Orleans, with Joseph Fielding as captain. They settled first in
Warsaw, Illinois. It had been a long and wearing trip of about eight
weeks on the ocean. Before they could get adjusted to this new climate
and conditions, they all came down with what was called "ague" with fever and
chills. At times they were unable to help each other to get even so
much as a drink of water. Seven of the Greenwood family members died of
this malady within nine weeks, including William I and Sarah, his wife.
They were all buried in or near Warsaw, Illinois. It was said of
Sarah by her daughter-in-law Ann Hartley: "She was one of the best
women that ever lived. She had a strong testimony of the gospel, to
which she testified as she sat up in bed just before she died. She
entreated her family to remain true to it. She talked in tongues."
William II (hereafter just referred to as William) must have grown up
working in a clothing factory, as did so many of the children in that
part of England, because as a young man he had become a steam loom
overseer. He must have met his wife, Ann Hartley, in the factory, as
she too was a worker at the looms. He was twenty years old and she was
eighteen when they were married in 1839.
Soon after their marriage, he followed his wife's lead in joining the
LDS Church, and they came with William's parents to America. William
had the ague along with the rest while they were at Warsaw, Illinois,
and it left him so weak and debilitated that he couldn't work at all for
a year and a half.
Ann soon became so homesick that she thought she must return to England.
William was not in favor of this, so he would not cooperate with her
in any way in making the arrangements for the trip back. He did,
however, return with her to England in 1843. They found work again at
the factory, but he was never satisfied or happy. So, in 1846, he
decided he would have to return to America to be with the LDS people,
with or without his wife. That must have been a sorry parting, as she
decided to stay in England. However, it didn't take Ann long to decide
that her happiness lay with her husband, so she joined him again in
about 1848. Upon his return to Warsaw, William had to accept work at
fifty cents a day, as that was the going wage of the time.
William and Ann began making preparations to make the trek across the
plains to join with the church members in Utah. In May of 1852, they
were ready to start, arriving in Salt Lake in November of that year.
They came with the Benjamin Gardner Company. Ann had born four children
previous to this time, but two had died and been buried in England, so
they had two living. Another son was born to them on the plains, and
they named him William.
This little family had only been in Salt Lake three weeks, barely enough
time to get rested after such a strenuous trip, when they were called
by Church authorities to go to Cedar City to settle. This meant another
long hard trip into a very wild new region, and a great contrast to
anything they could ever have imagined. After several years of trying
to overcome the adverse conditions in Cedar City, most of the settlers
became discouraged and disgruntled. They felt it was an impossible
situation. Many planned to go to California, but the Greenwoods wanted
to stay closer to the center of the Church.
They had heard that there were good opportunities for homesteading in
Millard County, so they took their ox teams and covered wagons and their
children and set out in the winter month of February, 1856. When they
got as far north as Beaver Valley, they camped on the bank of the Beaver
river. They liked the area with its abundant supply of water, good
supply of wood in the canyon, etc. They continued north until they got
as far as Wild Cat Canyon, a narrow place which they found blocked with
deep snow so that they couldn't get through. They turned back and
decided to settle in Beaver Valley.
The wagon box was lifted off of the wheels and it became their first
home in Beaver. They worked hard to plant grain, only to have it all
spoiled by three weeks of rain after it had been cut. Their scant
supply of provisions had become completely exhausted, and they had to
live on the milk from one cow, along with wild berries, roots, and
greens which they could find in the wild. William herded the town cows,
barefoot all the year, wearing just buckskin pants which he had gotten
from Indians. Gradually, through using every bit of ambition, good
management or sheer ingenuity which they could muster, they accumulated a
few animals and were able to eke out an existence until things got
somewhat better for them.
William built a log cabin and added on to it until there were three
rooms. Soon the Indians became a real problem, and they decided to move
closer to other settlers, several miles north of their first location.
They first had a log house but later build a home of the native
bluestone, and kept adding on until they had six rooms and an upstairs
attic where their grandchildren would love to play in later years.
The Indians were still a problem. One time, William was herding his
sheep on the hills south of town when he was caught by a group of
Indians. They threw him to the ground and drew a sharp knife across his
throat in a menacing gesture several times. He didn't cry out or show
the fear he felt, so they relented saying, "Heap brave man no squaw,"
and they spared his life. The Indians tried several times to steal a
lovely little gray mare which the Greenwoods owned, and finally
succeeded. After quite a bit of trouble, William got the mare back,
after which the family decided to bring her into the kitchen at night
for safe keeping.
Bluestone home still standing in Beaver at 190 South and 100 West. It is on the national registry of historical homes.
In 1869, the Church called on William for a wagon and team to go east
across the plains for immigrants. It was decided that young Barney, the
oldest son, should make the trip. He was only sixteen and small, but
he was responsible for his age. It was a long and arduous journey of
six months. The Greenwoods had no thought but to answer the call, so
while Barney was away, his father did two men's work at home.
The Greenwoods, along with other families in the area, soon began to
transport the goods that they could raise, selling them in other areas.
Later, the US soldiers took up residence at Fort Cameron, east of
Beaver, and they purchased many things from the settlers such as eggs,
milk, cream, straw, hay and grain. So the standard of living began to
increase. Sometime during this period, William met an Englishman who had just come
from the "old country." He had a red silk scarf which must have
created a nostalgia in William's soul, as he wanted it so much that he
traded a little pig worth four dollars for it. The scarf remained in
the family as a cherished relic.
After the death of William's wife in 1897, he lived with his daughter
Mary Ann for two years. He was so pleasant and kind to his
grandchildren that they always remembered him fondly.
As there was now train transportation to Milford, 30 miles west of
Beaver, Mary Ann and her husband thought they would take a trip to Salt
Lake in October of 1899. They took William along with them and enjoyed
the trip very much. On the return trip, the train made a stop at
Clearwater (or Clear Lake) in Millard County. William was in a
different car than Mary Ann and her husband, and for some unknown
reason, he decided to get off the train. It was dark and stormy and the
wind blew his hat off his head. He tried to follow and recover it, and
while so doing the train pulled away, leaving him. He started walking
along the track until he met up with an employee of the railroad who
quizzed him as to where he was going and found out that he was lost. He
asked the way to Fillmore, and the man pointed along the tracks.
Next morning, the employee heard the old man was missing. He went out
to look for him in the vicinity of where he had encountered him. He
picked up his tracks in the direction of the Sevier River, only to find
that he had stepped into a low place along the bank, which had caused
him to stumble and fall into about two feet of water. Apparently he had
been unable to recover himself, and so there he lay, drowned. An
inquest afterwards brought out this weird story. His daughter and her
husband knew nothing of his doings until arriving in Milford next
morning, whereupon they started the investigation as to his whereabouts.
It was a tragic thing to have happen while he was still enjoying good
health.
William's granddaughter, Luela White Storrs, wrote of him: "Truly
William Greenwood was a man of deep and sterling qualities, never
complaining of his adversity, but going ahead steadily against the
greatest of odds, true to his faith and family. No one could live more
faithfully and nobly."
Typed by Edith Baker, Feb. 1990
Source: "Life Sketch of William Greenwood the Second" by his granddaughter, Luela White Storrs.
Ruth Ann Greenwood (Glen's great, great grandmother) with her parents, Ann Hartley and William Greenwood
Ann Hartley was born into the home of Bernard Hartley and Mary Beck,
July 26, 1821 at Addingham, Yorkshire, England. She had two sisters,
Margaret and Martha, and three brothers, Barnard who died young, Joseph,
and another Barnard. Her father was a clothing manufacturer near
Burnley. It was customary at that time for little children to be
carried to work at looms in the factories at a very early age. Ann
related that she was carried on her father's shoulders as soon as she
was old enough to start work. A never-to-be forgotten memory for her
were the moaning cries of these little children being thus carried to
work in the early morning hours. Of her mother, Ann said, "She was a
very good looking woman, having white pearly teeth and a rosy
complexion. She was a very good manager with quite a business sense."
She thought her mother had some Jewish blood in her. Ann grew up thus
being kept busy with factory life until she became very adept at the
looms, being able to handle three with the help of one little girl by
the time that she was married.
Ann met William Greenwood who was a loom overseer. As they grew very
fond of each other, they decided to get married, which they did when Ann
was only eighteen years old. Since they both went on working, it
seemed expedient that they should live in Ann's father's home, paying
board.
About this time, Ann heard the LDS missionaries preaching. She was very
much interested in it, and began leaving her home, alone, to hear more
of the gospel message. She was afraid to let her husband or family know
what she was doing for fear they would not approve. As was to be
expected, her husband became curious, so he decided to follow her one
evening to see what was going on. He listened attentively to the
message and became so interested that he began attending the meetings
regularly with her. Ann's family hated to have Ann join, and she was
the only one of the family ever to do so. She was baptized in September
of 1840 and William followed in June of 1841.
William and Ann began making plans to go to America to be with the
church members there. In 1841 they came to America, arriving November
24 at New Orleans. They settled in Warsaw, Illinois, but found it hard
to adjust to the new life, as living conditions were very hard. Ann
decided that it was just unbearable. Her family had told her that if
she ever wanted to return to them to let them know and they would send
her the money for the return voyage. She tried to talk William into
writing to them to tell them of her desire to return. He wasn't in
favor of the action, so wouldn't write the letter. She then went to
another William Greenwood, a friend of theirs, and got him to write the
letter for her. The money was immediately forthcoming.
They returned to England in 1843, taking with them the little girl
Martha who had been born in Warsaw. This child died and was buried in
Burnley in 1844. Two other children were born to them here, Sarah and
Foster. Foster also died and was buried in the same place as Martha.
William was very unhappy back in England, so he decided he would have to
leave Ann there, as she still wanted to stay, and return to the new
land alone, which he did in 1846 or 47. But Ann was not long in
deciding that living with her husband was worth more than living in
England without him. She went to work and earned enough money to bring
herself to Warsaw in 1848. Their son Bernard was born in Warsaw in
September of 1849.
They began making preparations to cross the plains to Utah, and left in
May of 1852. At one time, the animals became frightened and stampeded
while Ann was driving. She had had a baby shortly before and was not
yet strong enough to walk by the wagon. She hung onto the animals,
talking gently to sooth them down, until they finally continued on
without any harm being done. What a breathtaking experience for this
factory maid from civilized England!
When it had come time for baby William to be born, the family merely
pulled off the road behind the wagon train and, with the help of some of
the kind women, the baby came into the world. That baby lived to be
one of the healthiest and long-lived of the family, so everything must
have gone well.
They arrived in Utah in November and soon were called to help settle
Cedar City. Their first year in Cedar City they lived in a sort of cave
or dugout. After several discouraging years in Cedar City, the family
relocated in Beaver. The first year in Beaver was very hard for them.
The only shoes Ann had were moccasins purchased from the Indians. Her
daughter Mary Ann wrote: "Having no dress to her back, she wore what
was called a sack, along with a quilted petticoat which she secured by
making a quilt for a neighbor. Ann went out doing washing or helping in
any way when possible, but this was not often, as very few could afford
such a luxury in that day."
Ann had never had any experience in making clothing or doing housework
before she was married, as she was practically raised at the loom in the
factory. She became very adept at all kinds of such work connected
with raising a large family. She was a very good cook and housekeeper,
and she could make clothing in all its steps, starting from the sheep's
back to the finished product. Mary Ann wrote: Clothing was extremely
scarce. It was not an uncommon thing for my mother to bathe her
children on Saturday night and put them to bed perfectly nude while she
sat up and washed and dried their clothes by the fire so they could have
clean things for Sunday." The boys also sometimes ran around the house
in their shirt tails while their trousers were being mended. Even her
husband had to go to bed when his trousers needed mending.
At this time, William and Ann had only one quilt for their bed. It had
worn very thin in the middle. In desperation, they tore it in two so
that they could each make better use of their piece, as they could tuck
it in around their backs a little better. They kept wood fires burning
day and night, as wood was quite accessible, and it did help in keeping
the biting cold away.
An interesting incident of this first year was of Ann walking a mile or
so to an old fort to milk a teacup of milk from a cow that was about to
go dry. Her husband called her a fool for doing it. However, the cow
didn't go dry; her milk came back, giving the family all the milk they
needed and it became their chief food. Then her husband had to admit it
hadn't been foolishness, but extreme foresight and wisdom.
At one time, the family lived on potatoes and salt for three weeks.
They had not had a taste of bread all that time. They went up to North
Creek to gather bullberries at this time. When Ann got out of the wagon
to help gather the berries, she was so weak and faint from hunger that
it was impossible for her to help gather any berries. These bullberries
were a great delicacy, heated up in their milk. Hunger was the
sweetener for the dish. Bullberries were the only fruit they had for
years. They made many uses of them, such as drying them for storage and
use all through the year. In later days, they made dumplings of the
berries with the other usual ingredients which gave a most delicious
dessert.
Although their economic situation gradually improved somewhat, as late
as 1863 when Ann's baby Rachel was born, Ann could not provide a single
piece of clothing for the baby to wear. It was only through help from
kind neighbors that the child had any clothing at all. In 1861, when
Titus had been born, Ann could only scare up two cotton diapers.
Every family in Beaver secured a barrel of molasses from Utah's "Dixie"
for the winter. Except for an occasional bit of brown sugar, this was
their only sweet flavoring. Molasses candy combined with parched corn
was their greatest delicacy. Ann would make molasses candy loaded with
cayenne pepper whenever a cold appeared among the children.
Eight of Ann's children grew to maturity, and soon there were
grandchildren. They were always welcome in Ann's home. Cookies and
apples in season were always on hand. It was great sport to run and
climb among the orchard trees and in the cattle corral and barn. Most
of all they loved to play in "Grandma's Attic." They took picnics
together and picked the yummy apples from the trees in the fall.
Ann was a dearly beloved mother with a sweet disposition. She was a
hard worker and a good example of the sturdy, long-suffering, patient
pioneer woman of her day. She was crippled up for many of the later
years of her life so that she had to use a cane to get about. She did
much of her housework sitting and moving about on a chair. She passed
away in her bluestone house in Beaver on July 18, 1897 at the age of 76.
Typed by Edith Baker, Feb. 1990
Source: "Life Sketch of Ann Hartley Greenwood" by her granddaughter, Luela White Storrs.
