Henry Albert Ankeny Family

 

 

 

My paternal grandparents homesteaded on 150 acres in Sioux County in 1889. 

 

Grandmother was 16 when she married my grandfather in Dec 26, 1888 in Dixon County.

 

Their first child - a girl was born on Oct 7, 1889 when her mother was 17. Shelter was very poor and the little girl died of exposure and was buried on the banks of Hat Creek in located on East half of the NE and East half of the SE quarter of Sec 23, Twp 35, Range 54 of 6th Meridian.

 

The Grand Island-Wyoming Railroad purchased a corner of their property in 1890. 

 

At age 31 she became a widow In 1903, responsible for six children. Roy is my father.

 

She married her first husband's uncle and they had two children.  

 

 

My grandparents were Henry A. and Lillie Ankeny

 

 

 

My Grandmother wrote the following story, relating to her Sioux County experience in 1889-1890; in 1953 at age 81 from Long Beach, California where she had moved from Laurel, Nebraska in 1921.

 

 

 

 

 "My Memory of Traveling west to Sioux County, Nebraska"

We started for Sioux County and the homestead about 350 miles across the plains. No houses, only a shack or an Indian colony.

 

I wondered where we were going to live in such a country. One night we came to the house on the claim. Mr. and Mrs. Kappen were there. They had a baby about six months old.

 

His claim joined ours and the house was on the property line.  He had gone out with Bert in the summer. They had built the house on the line to "hold" both homesteads. That winter, they built ours and moved theirs where they wanted it - about one-fourth mile from ours.   That winter we all lived together. About three miles on Hat Creek where they had to winter the cattle - a sheltered place with water and feed. Also, a warm place for us to live.

 

There was some wood there, so we had wood to burn in the cook stove which was the only stove we had. It was only one room about 14' x 20' with a bed in opposite corner with sheets hung up for privacy. We were there three or four months, and then we had our house.

 

The men had to break up some of the land and put in some crops. That summer, Bert's father Charles and Bert's brother, Frank came out.

 

Men from Coleridge, who had taken a claim near ours, built a "claim shack" on their places. Frank and their father lived and boarded with us.

 

After they put in some flax in the sod, they all needed some money. They had several horses, so they decided to go up and work on the railroad being built up in South Dakota in the Black Hills, up across the Cheyenne River (about 25 miles north of their claim).

 

We pitched our tent in a spot near a big outfit, not a blade of grass in sight. We just had land dust. We had a covered wagon and we had a trunk in it to keep my clothes. Our bed was in there too. The cook

stove and table was in the tent.

 

I had four or five men to cook for, and Bert's father helped me part of the time. About every other day he had to haul water from the well three miles away at a ranch to get water to use for drinking and cooking. He got what he could haul in a barrel.

 

It was hot and dusty and there were only three other women in camp. I stayed in the covered

wagon most of the time as it was the only place that was cool at all.

 

It was a big outfit, making the grade on the Burlington road down into Nebraska. One day a windstorm and rain came up.  The dishes were on the table covered with a table cloth and the wind and dust was terrible. It blew the cloth off. The dust covered the table and dishes. The rain started and the men came

inside the little tent and it was full. After awhile the rain stopped and it was supper time. The wood was wet and everything was such a mess. The men said they would clean up and get something to eat. So I went to the wagon and got out of it (out of cooking supper).

 

We were gone from home about three or four weeks when we had gone up to the camp north of the Cheyenne River the water was low and we had no trouble crossing. But when we came back the water was high and we had watched some of the teams and wagons go over. We were kind of afraid, but we watched a bunch of Indians ford over. We thought if they could do it, so could we. Grandpa, that's what I call Bert's father, had a fine Hamiltonian mare and buckboard. He followed Frank and his team and wagon and the water came up over the seat of the cart and the horse had to swim out of the way. We were the last across and something went wrong. One of the horses pulled the whole load. We drifted down stream about 200 feet. We thought we would never get over. When we got out, (we found) the double tree was caught and the one horse didn 't have a chance to pull. The water came into the wagon and the trunk had about two inches of water in it.

 

Well, we got home all right. After that it was hot and dry and the hail had taken the crop the boys had put in.

 

About a month after that my first baby was born - a little three and one-half pound girl. She lived to be three months old and died of lung fever they called it. (It was) 30 miles to a doctor. A man went to get some medicine but the doctor was drunk. When the neighbor got back with the medicine the baby had died. She had pretty brown eyes and brown hair and she weighed twelve and one-half pounds then. We named her Gertrude Myrtle and she was buried at Hat Creek.

 

About a month later, Bert and I drove over to the Indian reservation and talked to some Indians. They told us where we could get some hay as that was what Bert was after to feed the horses and cow.

 

A few days after that, I was alone. All the homesteaders had gone to Harrison, the county seat to prove up on someone 's claim. I saw two horseback riders coming and I knew they were Indians, but I wasn 't afraid. They came up to the wagon out in front of the house and came toward the door. I went to the door and stood, holding the door partly open and spoke to them. They just grunted and pulled the door open and walked in. They didn't talk -just begged.

 

They wanted tobacco and sugar and something to eat. I told them we never had tobacco and I didn't have any coffee or sugar - that I would give them some bread and milk which I did. They stayed awhile then left.  Some of the women on the places said when they came they were so afraid they pulled down the curtains and locked the doors.

 

The next year there was an Indian uprising about 40 miles from us and some of the settlers went to the Fort but they didn't come near us.

 

    Note: The year she refers to was 1890. The Indians at Pine Ridge, South Dakota

    were objecting to failed treaty agreements and the bad conditions in which they were

    forced to live.

     

    They objected for months and on December 29,1890, the terrible Indian massacre

    at Wounded Knee occurred.

     

    The "Fort" Lillie refers to, was probably Fort Robinson about 25 miles south of

    their home near Hat Creek on the South Dakota - Nebraska border.

     

    However, Lillie had returned to Cedar County in July 1890.

     

The Burlington built the railroad down into Nebraska and it came right across our place and the men worked on it there too. It was so near that I could hear the men talk. They were a tough bunch of men.

 

 We had men working for us and the men who slept up stairs got body lice.  We had to boil all the blankets to get rid of them.

 

The Olince Land Company hired a lot of men to file claims. They would pay them "so much" after they "proved up. " So a lot of the men lived on the claims.

 

The Company had a Commissary store which furnished them food and anything they wanted to buy, up to a certain amount. Some of these men bought lemon extract, vanilla and sarsaparilla and tonics. There was no place they could buy anything to drink. By the time (they had) to "prove up, " most of them had no money left and had to bum a ride. Anyway, Olince Land Company got the majority of the land there.

 

We didn't make any money out there. We had our land in corn in Cedar County. The corn didn't sell - was only offered 12 or 15 cents per bushel. So Bert shipped a car out to Sioux County as there was no corn out there. But it didn't sell for enough to pay expenses of shipping it, so we lost money on that.

 

The cowboys and some two or three who were not far away, hung up their belts with the "six-shooter " and hat and played cards with the men. (They played) mostly poker, but not for high stakes because none of them had much money.

 

One Saturday evening, we had company. A nice looking young man in a store Western suit, a big Texas hat and fancy. We liked to have company and the men asked him to stay. He admired the horses.

 

 Grandpa's driving horse and a riding horse that Bert thought a lot of. About noon he left walking. We thought that was strange, but he would catch a ride.

 

The next week-end he and a pal came back. Saturday evening, as he told us later they waited around for us to go to bed, then they got the two horses and saddles and left. Sunday morning we all got up late and the first thing - Frank wanted to know where the horses were.

 

Because the two light-weight horses got to fighting, so they changed the horses around and put one of Frank's heavy horses in with the riding horse. Well, we didn't know who took them, but the men went to the sheriff of the County. They went across the Dakota Territory line toward the Black Hills. They found where they had gone up into lthe foothills and there they got trace of one of them - the one who had stayed all night a couple of weeks before.

 

Then one morning they saw the horse in front of an eating place and she looked so tired and worn out. She just stood there and soon the man came out and greeted them with a "six shooter, " and asked

what they were looking at. They told them they were looking for that horse and why he stole it.

He said he bought it the day before. They had to believe him or seemed to, but they left and got a

sheriff from Sundance to get him and they got him the next day.

 

 

He told them the heavy horse gave out and they turned him loose and hid the saddle. On the way back he showed them where he tied the horse, so they got the horse and saddle back. At the same time they brought him back to Sioux County they stopped at our place and I had to get dinner for the sheriff and the thief.

 

He laughed and said to me, "You don't get around as well as you did when I was here before. " I was so mad because I had a week of real worry, with the boys gone after horse thieves. I imagined all kinds of things might happen to them. They put him in jail at Harrison and before his trial, he got out. We thought the other man helped him. Anyway, he didn't bother us again.

 

 

"We Decided to leave Sioux County and Move Back to Cedar County"

 

 

Lillie takes a train on April 21, 1890 from their home in Sioux County to their home in Laurel in Cedar County.

 

Bert continues to work as a freighter for the railroad that is being built.

 

Below are two letters he wrote to his beloved wife. The people he refers to are their homestead

neighbors and fellow railroad workers.

 

 

Collins, SD

4.24.1890

 

My Own Dearest Wife

 

You have been gone 3 days and I am still on deck. Am I lonesome! I don't know what you call it in English, but I would give "a mule" if I could step in and visit with you this evening.

 

You surprised them (their family in Laurel) no doubt. Hope you got through all right. I have not been alone any yet. Joe was here the first night. Henry Roseberry and brother the next. Tom Flannagan tonight with Davis, Pat and Harvey through the day. That's regular ain't it - seems awkward for me to cook, but I guess I will get used to it.

 

Zemus came over to plow on the timber claim - two of them. One of the boys went home by Harvey's and broke the lock on the door - stole the teacher's gold watch and chain. That is, we supposed it was him. He was riding a mule and tracked him up to the door and seen where he stopped there. She feels real bad about it.

 

The Engineers were up Tuesday and staked out two side tracks one mile south of the Dakota line

- by the school Marm's house. Will do the grading next week, so they say. That spoils our calculations

don't it.

 

The man that owns the timber claim will be here next week. I am waiting anxiously for him. If I could sell the claim to him I would start east tomorrow.

 

Will Koppen went over to Will Gordons and got everything that was there - said Will told him to.  When you write to Will ask him about it. Will Gordon wishes he had went back with you after you had

gone. Mable and Will thought you would come back with me.  

 

 It has been snowing for the last two days. Snowed hard all forenoon. I'm almost out of hay again.

 

I don't know much more to write. I have told you all the news. Take good care of yourself and

try and earn your feed! I am thinking of you all the time, but Darling, you are better off there than here.

Much as I would like to have you with me, I am glad you are away from that outfit.

 

I am going to Collins Sat 4th. I will probably get a letter from you - hope so anyway. Kiss all the

children for me and give my love to all the rest with lots of it for yourself.

 

Say Pet, I did not think I ever could love anyone so much as I do you now. Wish I could send you a kiss, but I will make up when I see you.

 

Your loving Bert

 

 

 

 

Collins, SD

5.17.1890

 

My Own Dear Lillie:

 

Yours of the 9th rec'd. Was so glad to hear from my Pet. I am going, up to the crossing today. I could not get any money and will have to go. The grass is big enough now, so the mules can rustle. I have not got time to answer all your questions now but will soon.

 

Uncle Henry can do as he thinks best about selling Bobby (one of his saddle horses). He isn't good for anything, but I would like to keep Bird. Now I would like to be starting East instead of North today. You can't imagine how lonesome it has been for me. Perhaps I can sell the mules up there, then I will be with you dear. I will finish this in Collins as I go through.

 

On the road waiting for Pat -he is down to Halls. Seems funny we should both write and tell each other what we were doing last Sunday, don't it Pet? We must have the same thoughts. I told you all the news in that letter so won't write much.

 

Mrs. Williams was down yesterday and got the cupboard. She bought you a pillow - said she was awful sorry. She wants you to write to her too, Pet. If I can get freighting to do I will not get the mail very regular, so don't be alarmed if you don't hear from me but once a week.

 

Love to all and lots of it for you.

 

Your loving Bert

 

Transcribed and Contributed by:  Harold Ankeny  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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