Sarah
Ann (Williams) Fitzgerald
By John W. Fitzgerald,
Grandson January 8, 1942
This is a short
biography until the time of her marriage. Let us turn back the years to March
15, 1840. The place is New Market, Flintshire, North Wales. A lovely little bundle of humanity has
opened new eyes that morning upon a new world: life had begun for another of
God’s daughters. Sarah Ann Williams.
The baby grew as all babies do and soon became
a favorite of the family, especially of her grandfather Williams, who used to
carry her about on his shoulders or give her a small coin when her flying feet
would carry her to meet him when he came through the gate.
Her father John
Williams was one of the successful farmers of the town, receiving many prizes
at the county fair for his fine horses and geese and cattle. He was
considered the man who could plow the straightest furrow and lift the most
grain in all the country round about. Being over six feet tall and very strong he
could carry five hundred pounds of wheat up his grainery
steps and place it in the bins. He was loved and respected by all his
neighbors and his family was his chief pride and joy.
Each child had work to
do. With butter to be churned, cheese to be made, cows to be milked, the
animals to be fed, it was a busy household. It fell to Sarah’s lot to tend the
geese. There were no fences between the farms and it required constant
attention to keep the geese out of the grainfields
and along the right paths. They were taken out in the morning to the ponds
and feeding grounds and brought back to their pens at night. This life went on
for the Williams. Father and mother and their family of four
girls and one son, until the death of the only boy which brought
sorrow and grief into the home. But time heals all wounds and
gradually life became happy again.
Then, when Sarah was
about twelve years of age, some strange men from a foreign land came to the village of New
Market. They were ministers of a new Gospel. Missionaries
of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, "Mormons.” Meetings
were held, interest among the people were aroused, and in spite of the
opposition, in the course of time many people were converted and baptized,
among whom was Mary Williams and her daughters. They longed to migrate with
others to Zion in the valleys of the mountains out in Utah. So when
Sarah Williams was about 15 years old, her father sold his fine horses, cattle,
geese, and other belongings and bought tickets for the voyage to America.
The time of parting was a sad and tearful experience. Sarah’s grandfather
Williams said goodbye before they left for the seaport. He felt their loss so
keenly that he didn’t want to see them leave the coast of Wales for
the long, long journey across the ocean. He knew he would never see them again. So it
was with sorrow in his heart that he said farewell.
The journey was
anything but pleasant, the ocean was choppy and rough, the sailing vessel was
not the best and for days at a time when adverse winds blew, they would not
make any headway at all. Added to the other hardships of the voyage, such as
seasickness, cold and exposure, came the
scarlet fever and Sarah was the one who took it in the most severe form. For days she
hovered near the brink of the great beyond. Everyone, except her mother gave
her up for dead, but the faith of her mother never waivered,
and the very week when they finally reached Boston, she was able to walk
down the gang plank with the aid of her father and mother. They were
six weeks on the ocean.
By train they
traveled from New York to Iowa City, Iowa, where they
formed in companies to make the trek to the mountains. They made or bought
handcarts in which they put their provisions for their walk across the plains.
Traveling light, they sometimes didn’t have sufficient provisions, but for
awhile they passed farm houses where supplies could
be bought. Hardships and rationing began when the last farm house was
passed. When it rained, the handcarts would have to be pushed or
pulled through mud an ankle deep. At other times dust and sand combined to make
the miles gone over in one day very few indeed. At night when the camp
fires were lighted, probably a violin would be heard, then
someone would sing some Welsh songs, and soon all the company would be singing.
Many such days came and went. Days of sorrow when some weak child or babe would
be left in a grave beside the way with perhaps only a few rocks to
mark the resting place.
Often Sarah and the
girls her age were called upon to gather buffalo chips to make fires.
It was on one of these assignments that Sarah saw her first Indian clad only in
a loin cloth and carrying a rifle. He calmly stalked over to the prow
of a hill and was lost to view. Sarah made the statement, “altho
that was the first Indian I saw it wasn’t the last one.”
After entering the
bounds of Wyoming their water gave out. Teams and wagons were
sent back for more, but days lapsed before they returned and the thirst of
the travelers became acute. Tongues were swollen, eyes became bloodshot
and the heat of the summer sun beat mercilessly down upon the suffering saints. In
speaking of this harrowing experience later, Sarah said, “I have seen strong
men fall upon the ground, tongues and throats so swollen that they could not
speak, almost to the point of death, from the lack of water, and I have seen
women who were nursing babies wet their husbands lips with milk from their
breasts to help keep them alive until the water came. When water did come
the thirst of some was so great that they drank too much, and died as a result.”
The summer was
passing, and they kept walking, walking, pushing and pulling. More than one
woman had lost her husband on the way so the two women would help each other
over the trail and up and down the valleys and hills. So the hand
cart Company went on. Many times they were stopped by herds of buffalo
passing. Buffalo meat helped out in their food problems.
Sometimes at night when it rained and the wind blew, everyone would be required
to hold their tents to keep them from blowing over; many provisions were
drenched or lost, and the people would suffer exceedingly. Sickness and death
were often the result.
The journey ended when
the company arrived in Salt Lake City October 2, 1856. The Williams
spent the first winter in a dug out in Salt Lake City. Later the family
moved to 33rd South. Sarah at this time started to
look for work to help our financially at home. She walked from Mill Creek 33rd South and came to what is
now the Draper and Riverton Crossroads. She gives it as follows: “It seemed to
me that a voice told me to take the road to Willow Creek, so I did, and came to
the home of Perry Fitzgerald where I obtained employment and had all the milk I
wanted to drink. It was there I met John Fitzgerald, the oldest son of Perry,
and after a short courtship we were married in the Old Endowment House in Salt
Lake City, February 17, 1858, by Daniel H. Wells.”
The rest of the
history is written by Sarah Jane Fitzgerald Smith, a daughter.
Upon the arrival of Johnston’s Army,
Sarah moved to Payson with the Fitzgerald family. Her husband remained in Salt Lake Valley to
guard the property and otherwise serve those in authority.
Her married life was
filled with all the hardships, privations and dangers of pioneer life. On
one occasion she barely escaped being scalped by an angry Indian.
While bringing some
immigrants to Utah her husband brought her a cook stove.
She was one of the first in Draper to have such a valued treasure. She washed,
corded and spun many pounds of wool to provide clothes for her family.
It was a common
practice in the early days for those who attended the dancing parties to come
to her home for lunch during the intermission. She became known for
the excellent meals she provided. In those days dances began at 2
o’clock in the afternoon and lasted until midnight.
She was the mother of nine daughters and two
sons. Her life was truly one of service and loving tenderness. Never forgetting
the poor and waiting on the sick. She possessed nobility of the soul, sweetness
of disposition, firmness of purpose and rare judgment in the discernment of
right and wrong.
She served her church for 40 years as a Relief
Society worker, and she was always liberal in her donations to the cause of
righteousness. She has 47 grandchildren at the time of this writing, January 8,
1942. In the family of one of her daughters three sons are bishops, five of her
grandsons and great grandsons and one granddaughter have been on missions.
She was left a widow
in 1892 with 6 of her 11 children at home. Courage never failed her.
Her Patriarchal blessing said that she would remain here as long as life was
sweet. On February 24, 1917, she asked her grandson Alma F. Smith, whom she
loved, to dedicate her to the Lord, and soon after passed peacefully away.
Her life was a real
conversion for eternal happiness. Her memory is cherished by her family
and grandchildren.
