Hudson Dexter Mead I Memories

I have attached here two memories of my great-grandfather, Hudson Dexter Mead I. Thanks again to Beth Denny for sending me these documents which are quite readable and included as PDF files. One is a transcribed copy of notes made by Hudson himself on a trip he took to Yellowstone in 1893. The other document is a written memory of Hudson by his daughter Kate Jean (my great aunt).

Mary Dexter Memory

The following is transcribed from a typewritten memory of Mary Dexter who married John Mead. They are my great-great grandparents, the parents of Hudson Mead I. I am so grateful to Beth Denny (the granddaughter of William Denny who married my great Aunt Mary, sister of Husdon Mead II) for sending me the original typewritten pages, along with a number of other memorabilia from Chadron in the early 1900’s. More information will follow in subsequent posts, hopefully sooner than every six months. The “Mary Mead Richardson” in the text is my great Aunt, who first married Frank Richardson, then later married William Denny (the grandfather of Beth).

I will just post the text below verbatim:

Mary Dexter Mead

Mary Mead Richardson

            A little girl of sixteen, with long, brown curls, a hoop skirt and pantalettes, makes a different picture from our school teacher of to-day, but, nevertheless, in 1856, near the town of Niles, Michigan, just such a school-teacher, named Mary Dexter, could have been seen, seriously talking to a group of children, many of whom were as old as herself.

            Mary was born in Argyle, New York, but, because her parents had both died when she was eighteen months old, she was sent to Niles where a kind aunt, who was already struggling with nine children, offered to take her and rear her as on of her own children.  So here she had grown to maidenhood, had received a tenth grade education and immediately started teaching a school in the country, a few miles from Niles.

            It was not long before John Mead, the son of the woman at whose home Mary boarded, found himself in love with the brown-eyed, fair-haired girl; but they had a foolish lovers’ quarrel and parted.  John was soon married to someone else and Mary became engaged to a young captain.

            Seven years later we see Mary in Connecticut.  During this time John’s little wife had died and the Civil War had claimed Mary’s lover.  Once again the old love flamed, and John and Mary were married in North Hartford, New York, in 1867. Sickness and the war had taken John’s money so, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity offered him by a brother, George Mead, who had…

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…already settled in Bonhomme, South Dakota.  Two years after their marriage, while their only child, Hudson, was still a mere infant, and set out at once to make their home in the new West.

            There was not a foot of railroad in Dakota at this time, and the settlements were few and set far apart.  The Sioux Indians roamed at will over the prairies, and the buffalo grazed in herds, unmolested by the white man’s greed.

            Mary and John left the train behind at Sioux City, Iowa, and boarded a steamboat, “The Miner”, which leisurely puffed its way up the muddy Missouri.  The rolling hills on both sides of the river impressed Mary deeply.  She had never seen anything like them before, and their vastness and monotony made her feel depressed and lonesome.

            The typical pioneer hospitality was shown to Mary and her husband upon their arrival at Bonhomme.  A widowed woman, having heard, through George Mead, that they were coming, immediately gave to them, three rooms of her four-roomed log cabin.  She had white-washed the walls and, with coffee sacks sewn together, had covered the earthen floor.  Merchandise boxes were soon deftly transposed into a table and chairs, and the whole place had the air of a comfortable home within a weeks time.

            The little town consisted of twelve buildings situated on a bluff overlooking the turbid Missouri.  Life was never quiet here for Mary, for, being ambitious and hospitable, she willingly entertained the missionaries as they stopped at this isolated place to preach the gospel to the unwilling Sante (Santee?) Indian.  When her work was done she often took long horseback rides with her sister-in-law through the waving grass along the banks of the Missouri.

            The following spring Mary’s husband decided to move his merchandise stock to Choteau Creek, a stage relay station.  Business…

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…was more prosperous here, so John, immediately built a small rooming house.  They prospered well, and Mary was happy in her new work.

            The next winter was very severe, and the Indians and white settlers alike lost heavily in cattle and horses.  Spring finally came, bringing General Custer and his command from the Southland.  Knowing that they were coming, Mary, with the help of her cook, baked fifty pies, forty loaves of bread, and six gallon jars of doughnuts.  It was evident that she had never before attempted to cook for an army.  Mary’s three sisters-in-law at Springfield, South Dakota, were sent for, and the three, with the help of several cooks, baked and cooked from five in the morning until midnight during the three days Custer’s army was required to stay at Choteau Creek, because of high water.

            The night before Custer’s army left, they invited Mary and her husband to their camp for the evening.  Everything was beautiful – the mellow moonlight, the flicker of shadows from the playful campfire, and the soldiers quartet singing softly that beautiful old tune, “Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming”.  The next morning the army marched away in great joy.  The band, mounted on white horses and playing, “The Girl I Left Behind Me”, led the procession as it made its way slowly into the prairie.  Little did they dream of the awful tragedy that awaited them at the little Big Horn.

            Thus far, Mary’s pioneer life had lacked the hardships of utter poverty; but, in the following summer, the grass hoppers came in such hordes as to darken the sun.  Everything in the fields was ruined, and the people were helpless.  Mary and John Choteau Creek and went to Springfield to take charge of a hotel belonging to Johns brother.  Their business did not prosper, and for this reason they moved to Pine Ridge Indian Agency where John had secured a tradeship.  This part of the country was even wilder and more desolate.  There…

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…were many roaming tribes of hostile Indians, and the little town of Pine Ridge was stockaded to protect the white people from the Red mans treachery.

            One day Mary heard that the biggest event of the Indians life, the Sun-dance, was going to take place just outside the Pine Ridge stockade.  Of course, Mary stubbornly insisted upon seeing it, much against the will of John.  She saw the eight-five hundred Indians walk solemnly on to the grounds prepared for their dance.  She saw the virgins cut the pole, drag it to the center of the place, and set it up, with a buffalos head on the top.  She saw the roses attached to the pole and the Indian braves bound to the roses by tying a rope on a stick which was passed through two deep, torturous slits in the breast.  She saw one of the braves run backward, tearing the flesh from his breast, then run to the pole in the center and throw his arms around it, as he sobbed and prayed.  Mary had seen all that she cared to of this dance.  She returned to her home, only to be reminded of the terrible scene by the constant crys and yells of the savages.

            After this affair all was quiet until about 1890 when the Indians waged war on the Seventh Cavalry because of the false promises a “White Messiah” had made to them.  This battle, called the Battle of Wounded Knee, brought on the disastrous Indian wars.  The settlers became alarmed and moved their families to Chadron, where they were lodged in the Court House.  Mary, either because of courage or her typical stubbornness, refused to leave when the rest of the people did.  The next day she drove to a place where she was supposed to meet a man who had come back after his furniture.  However, Mary was late, and the man had gone on, so Mary drove on to Chadron alone in the wagon.  About this time seven troops of the…

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… ninth cavalry were posted in and near the Agency, and the last Indian scare was over.

            For the next eighteen years Mary lived on a ranch on White River.  She enjoyed her life there, although she had to work hard, and money was often scarce.  She made pets of a deer, an antelope, and several magpies which were her only company except her husband and son.  When Mary left the ranch to come to Chadron, she was sixty-eight years old.  The rest of her life is of little real interest, although it was always active.  She refused to live with her only son, even when she had become very old, deaf, and nearly blind.  She lived in her own house amidst her relics of the past, happy in the memory each recalled.  She never gave up and fought with great courage the infirmities of old age to which she could not reconcile herself.

            Finally, in her eighty-seventh year, she was brought to our house, much against her will; but we knew too well the danger of leaving her alone in a house.  From that time on, she never saw a lonely day.  Nevertheless, she was unhappy because she “had to give up”, to use her expression, and to give up, meant to her, the end of her life.  Perhaps it was her courage that had kept her alive, for she had been at our house no more than six months when she died, on the thirteenth of January, 1927.

            Her life was long and useful, an unusual life but a life typical of the pioneer wife and mother.  Prosperity usually hung on the slender thread of chance, and happiness depended on a courage and willingness to endure and sacrifice.

Davenport Family Additions

It has been a long time for a new post. The Pandemic has meant I have had to keep my social distance from everyone, but the restrictions are easing. Along the way I have some new family additions to my family tree.

Elliot Hudson Clemons

b. September 11, 2020

Elliot is beautiful son of my daughter Stephanie and son-in-law Steven.

Montgomery Anna Martini

May 27, 2020

Montgomery is my newest step-granddaughter and the life of the party.

Rosella Grace Carauna

b. Oct 5 2020

Rosella Grace is not really a biological granddaughter, but a very close friend at church and she is just beautiful.

Mead Family Additions

My next project is to put together a bibliography of my Grandparents Hudson Dexter Mead II and Mary Esther (Magill) Mead. In my gathering of information I have discovered two new people to add the the family tree that I am sure my mom had no knowledge of, and perhaps even her dad Hudson had no knowledge of. We will never know, but now we know. We meaning whoever reads this and myself.

The information came from a search of the Greenwood Cemetery online database which uncovered the result shown directly below:

7 burial spaces all purchased by H D Mead on January 1, 1895
Greenwood Cemetery, Chadron, Nebraska

H D Mead would be my great grandfather Hudson Dexter Mead, born 26 Aug 1868 in Niles, Michigan and died 19 Feb 1950 in Chadron, Nebraska. His wife was our great grandmother Nora (Blake) Mead. Both are shown above in spaces 2 and 3.

What first caught my interest was that the list included two John G Mead’s. Hudson’s father (by great great grandfather) is John Groot Mead born 7 Apr 1838 in New York and buried 4 May 1920 in Chadron. His wife Mary Eliza (Dexter) Mead was born 5 May 1840 in New York and buried 15 Jan 1928 in Chadron. Both are shown above in spaces 10 and 12.

The other John G Mead record in space 1 is shown below:

John G (likely Groot) Mead, born Feb 1903 and died May 1904

My great grandparents Hudson and Nora Mead were married in 1902 and my grandfather Hudson Mead was born in 1906 and as far as we knew he had two sisters, Mary and Kate. Now we know he was preceded by a brother John who passed away before Grandpa was born. I have no other pictures or information that he even existed, but he did and would have been a great uncle to me if the Lord hadn’t taken him home as an infant.

The second thing that caught my attention was the listing of Arthur J Mead and A J Mead. I have posted previously about Arthur J Mead who is a half brother of my great grandfather Hudson who was born in 1862 in Michigan and died at his own hand in 1910 in Chadron, a sad story. Along with a wife who left him with four children sometime before 1910, and a previous wife who died about a year after they were married in 1885, now I discover a child who died as a baby 6 days old.

A (likely Arthur) J Mead, born and died in April 1895

This is not really surprising information as many of us have similar events in our lives that many that come after us would know nothing about. These events don’t really affect us, at least not directly from our perspective. But the Lord has plans for each of us. Some events are sad and some are joyful, but all are meant to grab our attention and get us to focus on Him.

It was no mere coincidence that I was also born in Chadron, Nebraska. Small world after all.

Crowders Mountain, NC

On our New Year visit to North Carolina to see my daughter Stephanie and son-in-law Steven, we spent an afternoon taking a hike up Crowders Mountain. It is nice to do that in January in North Carolina, something we couldn’t do in Michigan, at least not in our shorts and working up a sweat.

Google Map screen shot – about 20 miles west of Charlotte
Had a great lunch at Nellie’s Southern Kitchen in Belmont on way back home

Northeaster – Day 11 – The Gilded Age

On day 11 we visited two different mansions in Newport, Rhode Island. This was our last leisurely day before hitting the road back to Michigan. The tour guides at the mansions mentioned a few times about the history of the mansions being a part of the gilded age. For sure, the lifestyle of the people that would have owned and lived in these “summer cottages” was in a different world than the one I live in, or most anyone else for that manner.

In Bay City, we have some beautiful homes along Center Avenue and once a year the owners open some of them up for the public to visit and see inside. These homes in Bay City would maybe be suitable servants quarters for the mansions in Newport.

The first mansion we visited was “The Breakers”:

The second home we visited was “Chateau-sur-Mer”:

They were nice to visit and see the extravagant lifestyle that some people in this world actually live in (or used to live in). But as for me, I like my little 1200 square foot single story ranch home with attached two car garage.

Northeaster – Day 10 – Heritage

On day 10 we first visited Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There is a memorial at the cemetery that lists the name of Thomas Davenport who is my direct ancestor born in about 1615 in England and immigrated to the United States around 1635.

Inscriptions on the front of the monument – All relatives somehow
Thomas (my 8th great grandfather) who immigrated in 1615 and died 1685
This is confirmed through genealogy research and Y-DNA testing
This memorial notes Thomas as descending from Ormus de Davenport
John Davenport (born 1664) would be a seventh great uncle.
John was the brother of Jonathon Davenport who is my 7th great grandfather.

Next stop Plymouth, Massachusetts.

Followed by a short visit to another cemetery, Old Buriel Hill in Plymouth, where Adoniram Judson, a pioneering missionary, is buried.

Then a quick trip up the Cape Cod peninsula, just to say we’ve been there, and then on to Newton, Rhode Island and a visit to the gilded age.

Northeaster – Day 9 – Above Normal

Our second day in Boston found us at places where people with above normal income or above normal IQ’s can be found. Fortunately, no one stopped me to check my IQ and they did accept my credit card for our dinner.

Where else but at the MIT science museum.
I have heard of a few people that have gone here.
And bigger!
Older than my Commodore 64
Mark Zuckerburg hangout while in college I heard. I bet Legal Seafood now.
Dinner was awesome. The price … don’t ask.
In Boston Harbor – This can be yours for about $65 million
But alas, we must all still pay our taxes.