A HOMESTEAD WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUSI don't have a picture of my great - great - grandfather
Charles Gordon Hartman (1824 - 1898),
but I do have this 1920 photo of two of his children:
Charles Hartman (1854 – 19??) and
Sarah Elisabeth Hartman Lindsey (1856 - 1937; my great - grandmother),
and two of Sarah's children:
Paul Jones Lindsey (1895 - 1983; my grandfather)
and Gail Hartman Lindsey (1899 - 1944)
Two weeks ago, I shared a letter that Sarah (pictured above) wrote in 1893, mailed from her homestead in Nebraska to her niece in Ohio. When Sarah and her husband James and their young children left for Nebraska in 1887, they were accompanied by Sarah's father, Charles Gordon Hartman.
In the following letter, he describes the earlier years of their homesteading experience, before
the drought overtook Nebraska.
from Charles Gordon Hartman, 1824 – 1898
to his eldest daughter "Emma"
Emily Eugenia Hartman, 1846 – 1928
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Madrid, Nebraska, written on February 15, 1889
My dear Daughter,
Am going to town tomorrow; and take this opportunity to drop you a few lines and let you know that we are all well and hope you and your little family are the same. I was awful glad to get your last letter, and should have written sooner but have been very busy helping Jimmie [his son - in - law ~ Sarah's husband James] to get his house and stabling fixed in time for Joe Young, who arrived with his stock on the first of February, and his family get here a week ago today. They are all very well pleased with the country and all their surroundings. Jimmie did not get his house completed to move into but moved into a house adjoining his claim until we can get the house completed.
My house is up but not plastered yet. We will get at it next week and finish it up so I hope that when I write next time I will write from The Lone Ranch. I have not given it any other name yet as that seems to be the most appropriate as yet. I never enjoyed better health any winter for the last 20 years than I have this. I never had such an appetite before in my life. I eat more than twice as much in a day as i ever did and my food agrees with me. I have not weighed since I have been here but think I must weigh 15 or so more pounds than I did when I came.
You ask what difference there is between a preemption claim and a homestead. A preemption claim can be paid out, after 6 months residence upon it with a reasonable amount of improvements, by paying $1.25 per acre. Or you can let it run 33 months before you prove up and pay for it, after proving up on your preemptions. You can after that take a homestead, which you can improve, and get a Patent from the govt for nothing after 5 years' residence on it. And you can at any time file a claim upon 160 acres of land as a tree or timber claim, and by that means get possession of 480 acres of land for $200, the amount you paid for proving up your preemption.
Mr. Young says that Frank and James Ca?? are coming out this month to see the country. I hope Frank [his son Franklin, b 1855] will come out. If he does, I know he will like it well enough to see out and come out here; he could make four times as much money here with half the capital as he does there. I have not had a line from Frank since I left home, but I heard yesterday that there was a registered letter in the office for me, and I suppose it is from Frank as I have written him twice for money since I have been here and have not heard from him yet. My insurance has been delinquent since the 30th of last month and it will take $10.80 to pay for last and this month which be due in a few days. I hope that he has sent me enough pay that and busy some things that I will e compelled to buy before I can commence housekeeping.
I expect I will feel our loss more than I do now when I get moved to myself. You write in your last letter that you lay awake at nights thinking of Mother [Ellen Brewer, 1821 - 1880]. You must try my dear girl and bear the loss without worrying yourself so much, for I know the poor dear soul is better off than she was when she was with us.
I did not sell your sewing machine but left it with Mrs. Crozier to sell. She has not sold it yet. Mr. Young says Blanch said Sam Sh??'s widow would buy it about April when she got some money due her for the sale of some horses Sam owned before he died. You must write me as soon as you get this letter for I am getting almost homesick to hear from you all. I hope the baby and all the rest of you are well.
Sallie [Sarah] has not had time to write you as she has had 3 extra men to cook for besides James and me for 19 days, men who were working on Jimmie's well, and just got it done yesterday -- but he has one extra hand yet for a week or ten days longer and after that she will have some time to write you. Sallie's baby is getting to talk a good many words. She calls me Grammy Papa tolerably plain [this would be little Nellie 1887 - 1991, who died two years later when she fell from a horse]. She and all the rest of the children are fat as bears.
Tell Eyrie and Fred to write me as I want to hear from you all often. Send me some newspapers as often as you can; even if they are old it will be news to me. Jimmie is living in the house on the claim he wanted you to come out and take adjoining his old claim. The young man who owns it proved up on the 7th of January and got a loan of $500 on it and when I heard that Frank was coming out, I asked the young man if he would sell it; he says he would for $1200. There is but very little vacant land in this township, and in six months there will not be an acre vacant. Jimmy paid $50 cash for 19 days work boring his well, that ought to be done in 5 or 6 days with a proper set of tools. I could have made over $200.00 by this time if I had brought them with me when I came. I do hope Frank will buy me a set of tools.
I must close with love to all -- Your loving father, C. G. Hartman
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A story of the Nebraska hardships:"But at last a thaw came. Thin rivulets of snow water trickled for an hour so and were soaked up by the hungry, warming earth. A greenish - brown mist hung about the cottonwoods across the river. Gray April wept her dripping days away in mist that beaded every bush and tree, but there was no rain, not enough moisture to start the grass. . . . they might raise nothing at all this year, have nothing to eat . . .
"When the fires of autumn ran yellow through the low places, Marie gripped the unaccustomed lines over the temperamental buckskins, while Jules swung the leather - lashed willow whip. With a jerk of the wagon they were off into the hills, the land of deep - grassed valleys, blue lakes . . . the habitation of gray wolves, cattlemen, and rattlesnakes . . . ." (207, 327)
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Sunday, October 28th
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