Notes for Joseph Allen EADDY

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Notes for Joseph Allen EADDY

The compilers are indebted to Lillian (Eaddy) Potter for the article,
"Family Echos". Mrs. Potter's parents migrated to Florida during the
desperate years following the Civil War. Mrs. Potter tells about her
parents' earliest experiences there and what it was like to go back to
Johnsonville to visit her grandparents. This passage forms the first
chapter of a family chronicle written for her own grandchildren,
Charlotte Irene Hunter, Patrick Teasley Hunter, II, and Debra Rosamond
Hunter.

FAMILY ECHOS
by
Lillian Allene (Eaddy) Potter

My father was Joseph Allen Eaddy, son of Henry Edison Eaddy and Eliza
Louisa Ann (Huggins) Eaddy. Henry Edison Eaddy was born 1832 and died in
1912. Eliza Huggins was born in 1834 and died in 1916. Both she and her
husband died quietly in their sleep. They reared their family of
thirteen in Johnsonville, South Carolina.

My mother was Lillie Belle Eaddy, daughter of Trisvan Eaddy. Trisvan
Eaddy was the son of John D. Eaddy, Henry Edison Eaddy's half-brother.
Trisvan was born in 1833 and died in 1888. He was first married to Rose
Timmons, but they had no children. His second wife was Addeline (Addie)
Ham, a niece of Rose Timmons. Addie was born in 1847 and died in 1879 at
Scranton, South Carolina.

Joseph Allen Eaddy and Lillie Belle Eaddy were married September 20, 1879
at Scranton, SC. They were distant cousins. Although they did not live
far apart, they had never met until about a year before they were
married. They met at a picnic -- a church gathering. Mother thought
that Joe Eaddy was the most handsome lad there. The young man, Joe, was
attracted also to the petite Lillie Belle. My grandparents were victims
of the "Torn South". They had not only experienced the hardships of the
Civil War, but had to suffer the atrocities of the Reconstruction Days.
Perhaps the people of South Carolina were among those who suffered most
from the indignities of rabble rule and the unjust decisions of the
courts. No wonder that they were an embittered people; one does not
forget such turmoil and personal experiences within one's lifetime.

Her father, Trisvan Eaddy, was a prisoner of war. My grandmother went to
see him and took her baby, my mother, with her. No doubt that Trisvan
Eaddy was happy to see both of them, but my mother came home with scarlet
fever. She told me about the time that her grandmother's place was being
auctioned off. (I have the impression that it was before she married
Trisvan Eaddy.)

Trisvan Eaddy bought every article, even the dipper. I don't think that
my grandparents were big slave owners, but during my girlhood days we
frequently visited in Johnsonville where my grandparents and several
uncles and aunts still lived. I met and talked with an old former slave
that had once been my father's companion and valet (body slave). He was
so happy to see "Massa Joe": that tears of joy flowed down his cheek as
he embraced my father. He still felt like one of the family and there
was a happy reunion of old friends.

Mamma and Papa were married just a few weeks after Mamma's mother died
quite unexpectedly. She and Mamma were making the wedding plans and
guests lists when my grandmother, who had been ill, sat up in bed and
then fell back, dying. Mamma, being the oldest daughter, had the care of
helping to rear the younger sisters and brothers. Aunt Rosa, who was
just four years younger than Mamma married Papa's brother Lem (Leon) in a
few years. Uncle Charlie and Uncle Oscar and Aunt Fannie were largely
under my mother's care until they married. As the boys grew older, they
stayed with their father. Years later, when Aunt Fannie died, she left
four children. Mamma took them in and cared for them for years.

The baby, Fannie Lee Brinkly, lived only four months; Herbert was soon
old enough to go to Ohio with his father; Oliver and Hugh stayed with us
for ten years or more. They seemed like my own brothers. Oliver and
Hugh now live in Ohio.

My parents had little formal education, for when they grew up in South
Carolina, they could not go to public schools and there was little money
for private tutors. But they grew up in homes that prized knowledge and
culture. Mother had made such advancement that she tutored and even
taught school before she married at the age of seventeen. They were
taught to read worthwhile books and to study. Not only did they have a
deep and abiding love for books, but also for music.

During Reconstruction days when my father grew up, goods and money were
scarce. My grandfather, a very versatile man, with few tools, made much
of the household furniture. After his death, the family said that since
Grandfather had thought so much of me, they wanted me to have a big chest
that he had made. I had corresponded with him frequently, and he had
always shown an interest in my school work. The chest still bears the
date and shipping name: TO J. A. Eaddy, Bushnell, Florida.

There are five drawers in the middle tier; on either side are two smaller
drawers and two compartments for hats. The top drawer on either side is
divided into sections where the children kept their socks. There are
hand carved keyholes in each drawer and keys were made to fit. However,
when I got the chest the keys had been lost. The drawers and compartment
were fitted with hand-turned knobs.

Some years ago I gave the old chest to Grace for my new grandchild,
Patrick. His mother had the chest refinished. We learned that there
were five kinds of wood used in it: pear, maple, oak, walnut, and
cherry. The chest must be more than 100 years old, and it is still in
daily use.

I remember another piece of furniture that my grandfather made. It was
the dining table. The table legs were hand carved with the base being
lion feet, and there were extension leaves, too. It was given to Aunt
Belle.

Papa was an avid reader of informational books, including the history of
foreign nations, philosophy and social studies; and he kept a lively
interest in correct grammar, and especially enjoyed poetry. Mamma had a
special interest in literature. I was always amazed that Papa could help
me in algebra, geometry, grammar, and history; and yes he could even help
me with Latin. When he heard a speaker say, "for you and I," he would
decry the speaker's careless use of grammar. More than any other books,
I think both Mamma and Papa studied books on medicine. They learned to
recognize symptoms of many diseases and knew proper medication. They had
to rely on that acquired knowledge in rearing their ten children. I
remember quite well some of their remedies. If a child had a fever as
high as 101 degrees, he was given nitre or peach-tree-leaves tea. Then
he was covered with a blanket to sweat off the fever. If the fever was
intermittent and accompanied by chills, he was given five grains of
quinine, (I have filled many a five grain capsule with quinine bought in
bulk in eight ounce blue bottles.) For a sick stomach he would be given
a glass of hot mustard water--and that emptied the stomach without
delay. If his tongue were coated, that was a sure sign of biliousness,
and he was given a "round of calomel" and a big dose of salts. After I
had fainted a time or two and was sick enough for the "post to knock me
down", (That was what I told my Dad when I came back into the house with
a big knot on my head.), it was decided that I would not take calomel.
For a cough there was teaspoon of sugar with a few drops of turpentine on
it. If there were lung involvements, Antiphlogistine and mustard
plaster. (How we hated those!) And for everything else, there was castor
oil. Ugh! But we seldom had a doctor. The doctors had a big area and
sometimes were hard to get, for they traveled by horse and buggy. We
children were spared one common treatment, the wearing of asafetida bag
around our necks to keep off colds. Lots of other children at school did
wear them.

The houses were not adequately heated. We children had to wear long
underwear and stockings from fall until May. Sometimes our parents were
more lenient than other parents in letting us discard the long underwear
earlier.

My older brothers were born in South Carolina. Then my parents moved to
Florida, near Yalaha where my grandfather's brother lived. Instead of
"Eaddy" that family was McEaddy. Even when I was a little girl, we
sometimes visited "Aunt Kizzie: and the others who lived there. Some of
the McEaddys still live in that neighborhood.

In June of 1968, a lawyer from Lake County came into the Abstract Office
to inquire if Sumter County Abstract Company had a plat of Bloomfield, an
old settlement now in Lake County, but once included in Sumter County.
Bloomfield: Bloomfield? Why was the name Bloomfield so familiar? I
searched old records, but did not find anything on Bloomfield. The name
continued to baffle me until I remembered that Bloomfield was the place
where Mamma and Papa lived when they first came to Florida. That was the
place where Joe was born. He was the first "Florida Cracker." Then I
recalled stories Mother had told us of her experiences there.

It was a veritable wilderness. They lived in a cabin; no neighbors were
within sight; high broom sage grew rampant. From her window Mamma
watched deer come down to the nearby lake to drink. Game was plentiful.
At night Mamma, still in her twenties, would be frightened at the howling
of the animals that dared to come near the cabin.

Papa worked some distance from the cabin. It was there that he so nearly
died of Meningitis. The meningitis was caused by a deep infection. My
father, a quick and energetic worker, was doing the work of two men that
day when he failed to shift position quite quickly enough, and his heel
was accidentally caught. Infection followed and he became very, very
ill. The doctor despaired of my father's life. For days he lay
desperately ill and unconscious. Every now and then he would groan, "Law
Susanna! Law--Susanna" My mother thought that he was calling a former
sweetheart. However the "Law! Susanna" was just the expression of
unbearable pain.

The doctor called Mother into consultation and told her that there was
one chance to save Papa's life. He must give my father all the calomel
that could be piled on a dime. The dose would help him or kill him, and
that right speedily. What a decision for a frightened and lonely young
woman to make, still in her twenties and with three small boys and a tiny
baby in arms. She, knowing that there was at least a chance, consented
to the dose of calomel for Papa. And he lived!

Paralysis followed and there were many hard days and weeks and months
ahead. The only visible signs left were a slightly drawn lip that a
small mustache hid and one slightly smaller eye. I was always awed and
could not understand how, for months, he had been able to sleep with one
eye open.

When Papa was able to travel, he and Mamma and their three little boys
and the baby Joe went to South Carolina to stay with my grandparents at
Johnsonville until Papa should recover sufficiently to go back to work.

Those were trying times. Mamma was sensitive, especially when Papa's
older sister Lula and her husband, Mr. Dorrill, would come to
Johnsonville in their fine carriage with a colored driver. The fine
steed would come prancing down the driveway, and my mother's heart would
all but sink in despair. You can imagine how insecure she felt, although
Papa's family were all very nice to her.

As soon as Papa had improved sufficiently, they moved to Belleview,
Florida, and Mama's father and her brothers, Oscar, Marion, and Charlie
moved there too. Mamma's brother John T. stayed in South Carolina.

While they were at Belleview, Mamma's father (Trisvan Eaddy) was killed
by a train. My uncles always suspected that there had been foul play.
They thought that he had been murdered and laid across the track, for his
money belt was gone. Mamma said that when she heard the blast of the
train whistle, she just had a premonition that some of her kin had been
hit by the train. When Papa came in, she anxiously asked, "Which one was
it?"

During my childhood, every time I passed through Belleview I would look
for the two-story yellow house where my parents had lived.

Source: "Family Echos" by Lillian Allene (Eaddy) Potter.

JOSEPH ALLEN EADDY
BY
Dr. KENNETH M. EADDY, Ed. D.

Joseph Allen Eaddy was born in Williamsburg County, South Carolina and
died in Bushnell, Florida following a successful and exciting life. He
was an adventurer, timber man, and early settler of Bushnell, Sumter
County, Florida. It was told that he traveled from South Carolina to
Florida with some other men to buy timber and land. They visited the
areas now occupied by Orlando and Tampa; but, decided to move elsewhere.
The land was too low and yellow fever was prevalent. Joseph Allen Eaddy
eventually found his way to the Bushnell Florida area.

Joseph Allen Eaddy corresponded with his cousin, Lillie Belle Eaddy, to
whom he had become engaged. They sent numerous letters to each other in
which he described his adventures in search of timberland. He also wrote
to her about his investment in a silver mine in Arizona. When someone
questioned the wisdom of such an investment and the danger of being
deceived, he arranged to visit his mine and determine for himself whether
he had been defrauded. He traveled to Arizona by way of ship, train,
stagecoach, and horseback to find that his mine was productive and his
investment sound.

Joseph Allen Eaddy and Lillie Belle Eaddy were married September 20, 1879
at Scranton, South Carolina. They moved to Florida where he built a two
story brick house in which to rear their family of ten children. The
town of Bushnell, Florida grew up around them as their descendants and
relatives populated the area.

Source: Dr. Kenneth M. Eaddy recounted these narratives from memory and
indicated that he had learned about these events by reading the letters
and other papers which were in the possession of his Aunt Lillian Allene
(Eaddy) Potter. Those letters were originally stored in the large wooden
chest mentioned in her article, "Family Echos". That chest was presumed
to have been made by Henry Edison Eaddy, her grandfather and given to
Lillian. As of this date, the contents of the chest have now been lost
and presumed destroyed. One of these items was the alleged document
signed by a James Eddy in petition for a tract of land about 1730-31 in
which he claimed land grants on behalf of his wife and two children who
were lost in a shipwreck in Charleston Harbor in the hurricane of about
1728.

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