The Clopton Chronicles
A Project of the Clopton Family Genealogical Society
OF POSSUMS AND LAND BARONS
AND WONDERS OF THE SEA
Regarding
William Henry Harrison Clopton & His Wife
Martha Isabel Lancaster
By Suellen Clopton Blanton,[1]
bblanton@fast.net
Love, Life and Renewal
I can’t believe you would marry Lou
or that she would marry you.
It seems to me you could both do better.
Following the Civil War, the people of Putnam
County, Georgia endured, survived, and overcame the destruction of their land
and way of life. William Henry
Harrison “Billy” Clopton[2]
and his wife, Martha Isabel “Mattie” Lancaster[3]
raised eight children in the little community called Pea Ridge.
They faced daunting hardship with grace and a sense of humor, evident in
the many delightful letters and stories which have survived the years. Their children had a rollicking good
time, whether they were scandalizing the neighbors, entertaining the preacher,
or exploring untamed Florida.
Martha Isabel Lancaster Clopton
The economy in the region was in ruins, and the young people
soon sought adventure and riches elsewhere. Their eldest child, daughter Harriet Isabel “Hattie Belle,”
was the first Putnam County Clopton to move to Florida. She became a school teacher in the frontier
town of Kissimmee. There she met the handsome William Horne Girtman, and the family was absolutely horrified when
Hattie Belle married this man from that rough and wooly town of Miami. It was bad enough she had to sashay
down to Florida to teach school, but it was just about the last straw when she
married a man who owned a saloon, my dear![4] The Pea Ridge folk were tee totaling
Methodist, at least, officially.
That is, they didn’t drink whiskey for fun. Not that whiskey didn’t have it’s place. It ranked supreme for medicinal
purposes, which was good because some people were sick a lot. Some of the
best ‘shine in the country was produced right there in Putnam County, and somebody had to drink it, but nobody admitted it.
And
what kind of a name was Girtman? Putnam County folk married Americans,
Americans with real American
names. The Girtman’s were Germans,
for goodness sakes. He probably
wasn’t even a Methodist! It isn’t
known whether the folk back home knew Will Girtman traded with the Seminole
Indians. When they came to town to
trade, his establishment was one of their first stops. They would trade feathers, hides, baby
alligators, and fruits for his whiskey.[5]
Despite
the family’s dire predictions, the Girtman family became bonified members of
Miami Society. Will became a
member of the Miami Board of Trade, and most of his family was active in Miami
city’s affairs. By 1945, his
family was listed in Leaders and Pioneers
of South Florida.[6] Their only child, Zelma Belle
“Rosebud,” was two when her mother died, and had just celebrated her fifth
birthday, three days before her father’s death. Hattie Belle’s brother, Gabriel Harrison “Gabe” Clopton, and
his wife Elizabeth Celine “Aunt Bet” Girtman, her husband’s sister, raised Rosebud.
The
second child to go to Florida was third son, Gabe. In 1894 Mattie wrote her son a letter[7]
filled with delicious gossip. All
the families were related in one way or another, of course. They all attended Concord Methodist
Church and many mentioned in the letter are now buried there.[8] Note how subtle the reference is to the
birth process. Evidently she
served as a midwife in the neighborhood.
Oct
12th 1894
Dear
Gabe
Your
last letter came yesterday. It
found us well except colds. Jim
Brown[9]
was right sick Sunday, Monday & Tuesday. He went back to the store Wednesday. Harvey[10]
has a cold & cough. I think I
am taking it. I don’t feel very
well. I got my feet went Wednesday
morning. Biss got sick and they
sent for me soon before sun up and I did not have a chance to warm my feet ‘til
after twelve oclock. Biss has a
fine son. I tell you the babies
are coming fast and there is more to follow. I saw Mr. Callaway this morning. The are well.
He told me that the Grimes folks were selling out making preparations to
go to Fla, and Shug[11]
is going too. Jake Dennis is going
to live at Uncle Blumers[12]
so I heard. Mr. Armour sold his
mill to old Owens that use to keep Mr. Reddick’s mill some years ago, Jim
Bickins wife’s father.[13]
Tom
Knight[14]
came home a day or two ago. He was
sick had several chills in Macon [Georgia] will go back
as soon as he gets well enough.
Lou Brake & Hattie Reynolds[15]
came down last Sunday. Hattie went
home today it rained nearly all the time she was here. I did not see her. It rained so much I could not get out
of the house. Lou has just steped
in here to see if your Papa was going to town tomorrow and if she could go with
him. I don’t know what she is
going for. Some say she is fixing
to go to Fla with Shug & them.
I heard that Shug said it would be cheaper for you to send Lou the money
to go on than for you to come after her, some how I cant believe you would
marry Lou or that she would marry you.
It seems to me you could both do better. But I don’t reccon I ought to spend my opinion as I have not
been consulted about the matter.
If you should marry you have my blessing. I have no objection to Lou only the close blood relationship
that’s between you.[16] Now I want to know what Johnnie[17]
wants us to send him I cant imagine.
So do write as soon as you get this and tell me or make him write. All send you much love, your loving
Mother.
Since
I wrote this letter I thought it must be the package that was sent [to]
Johnnie that I sent him the card about. I will get Billie[18]
to attend to it tomorrow. Write
soon. Tell Johnnie if he can to
send that money to G---?ine he is grumbling about it. Boo[19]
has been hauling corn over a week has his crib full and is putting it in the
long room now. May Clements &
Lou Knight[20] are going
to Atlanta next Monday on an excursion.
It will be one dollar & sixty cts round trip. Barnum & Baileys circus will be
there.
Taken in Miami, Florida in 1923, Gabriel Harrison Clopton sits in the center with his nephew, Walter Johnston Clopton his left, and his cousin James Gabriel Callaway, on the right. Note the stuffed alligator at Gabe’s foot posed as if to bite his foot off.
A story appeared in the Miami Herald in 1945
celebrating that city’s founding.
A photograph of Elizabeth Cilene Girtman, Gabe Clopton’s wife, was
featured with the article. The
caption reads Mrs. Elizabeth Clopton – Miami’s Second Birthday.
This is the
day when those proverbially wise babes and sucklings can shut up and let the
graybeards do the talking. And
they are talking. Talking of the
days of half a century ago when Miami was about to snap its umbilical cord and
become a city. For today is the 49th
birthday of the city of Miami. At
least three formal events are on today’s program marking the anniversary, but
the event will be celebrated in the homes of the city’s pioneers in salty
recollection of those early days.
First observance of the day was held in the Woman’s club at a 12:30 p.m.
luncheon presided over by Mrs. Charles Enterline, club president. Commissioner James A. Dunn,
representing the city, welcomed the city’s pioneers. Response was by J. K. Dorn, president of the Miami Pioneers,
Inc. Robert Jordan Beckman spoke
on “Why I Am Glad I Was Born In Miami” and Miss Christine Holt’s subject was
“Why I Love Miami.” Benediction
was to be said by William Mark Brown, 92-year-old Miamian, who was the city’s
first alderman and claims any number of other firsts in the city’s life at the
turn of the century. Miami
Pioneers, Inc. will meet at 5:30 p.m. today on the mezzanine floor of the YMCA
to swap yarns. A concert on “The
History of Miami In Music,” under direction of Caesar La Monaca, will be
presented at 8 p.m. in Bayfront Park bandshell to wind up the day’s observance.
Kittens
and Possums and Preachers, Oh My!
Gabe looks like a buckeyed
rabbit
but he was fat and fine.
Carrie Lou “Lucie” Clopton Callaway
Carrie Lou “Lucie,” the second daughter, stayed in Putnam
County. Married to James Willis
Callaway in 1887, she had ten children.
By 1907, their ages ranged from the eldest, Annie Belle Callaway,
nineteen years old, to little Martha Clopton Callaway, aged four months. Annie Belle had married and moved to
Atlanta where he mother wrote her in 1907.
Eatonton,
Ga
August
18, 1907
My
dear child:
Your
letter came yesterday and I will get Jim Brown[21]
to go to town tomorrow and get the money and pay all your endebtedness and I
thank you so so much for what you sent me I had not had any money
in so long it certainly is a comfort to have a few dollars to spend as you like
there is so many little things I need that I can get with them. There was quarterly meeting at Concord[22]
yesterday and the -?- meeting -?- today the presiding Elder is going to help
bro. Pace[23]. I wanted to go to church yesterday you
know I am bad about quarterly meetings.
We made Martha[24]
a little dress and petticoat and had everything ready but I did not have any
hat. I sent by your father to get
me a Sailor from Miss Pauline she said it was so late in the season she had
sold all the nice ones she had but she sent two and was just like Aunt Charitys[25]
and the other one was just like Aunt Polly Pyes. I did not keep either one of them. I decided to wear my Mrs. McLeroy[26]
hat again but the next morning Gabe[27]
was a little sick and could not go so Martha and I staid at home with him. Jim B. took the children they had a
small crowd they said and they brought lots of the dinner home. Jim B. has a bad foot has a rising and
it [he] can hardly walk at all I don’t hear him
say anything about getting home[28]
he seems to be satisfied I do wish there was something he could do and did not
have to go back at all.
Stinson
and Myrtle[29] came out
last Saturday and went back Sunday afternoon. I was not real well had a very bad cold he is at work
now. I have not seen him since he
started the -?-. Last Monday they
are at your aunt Jessies and are well pleased I think. I expected to go in with your papa
early one morning last week and spend the day and come back with him late that
evening you know he took the mail last week for Johnnie and he spent the week
at the springs and Kinderhook.[30] I have not been to town because we have
had a rain nearly every evening this week some as hard rains as I ever
saw. Jim and I went to Florries a
few days after you all left. I spent
a very pleasent afternoon we went and came around by Mr. Wheelers. I don’t know when I ever had been over
that piece of road from Mr. Wheelers down to Alex not since I married I don’t
think. Miss Rosa and Johnson[31]
have just been by here (have not left).
I cant know that the poor little baby is any better. She is the poorest little creature I
ever saw. They say she is some
better but I cant see any change.
Minnie
is at the Springs she and Miss Minnie[32]
and all the boys I am afraid they will run all the boarders off. M. is no better. She is in a bad fix I don’t know what
the trouble is. Sarah and L.[33]
are all ready they will get all their clothes soiled going to meeting and will
have to iron them all again. We
have made all your petticoats and I had forgotten all about the skirt till I
saw it in the trunk the other day.
We will make that tomorrow.
May[34] [arrived]
home from Jamestown and Washington D.C. and staid at home a few days and she and
Kizzie went to Lincoln County with Callie Montgomery and have been there about
a week they are all coming home tomorrow I think. Well I will try and finish this letter after waiting over
night. I will send the buttons by
the children when they come you are welcome to them don’t think about paying
for them they are as much yours as any of the others. I never would let you wear them you know how unfortunate you
have always been with such things.
I do wish you could see dear sweet little old Martha she is so
smart crys for me and knows her name can almost sit alone she is the worst
spoilt thing you ever saw and of the other children has to keep her out of
doors all the time when it is not raining but I do know she is the
sweetest thing I ever did see. The
box of pencils and other things came alright and are much appreciated by us all. I never such a chance of them [I
never get a chance to use them].
I will have to stop now and cook dinner as brother Pace and Sister Pace
are coming here to dinner and I have got to get a dinner with -?- to cook the
chickens and [the] garden is almost gone. Give my love to Florence and E. and Sallie and Mrs.
Miller. I hope Sallie will have a
fine time on her trip let me hear from you and soon I will have to stop now as it
is mail time all send love to you and each and [every one of you] up
there your loving Mama.
Several months later she wrote the following letter[35]
to her brother, James Brown “Boss,” who, along with brothers, Gabriel Harrison
and Harvey Gordor, was living in Miami, Florida.
November
3, 1907
My
dear Jim:
I will start a letter to you I don’t know when I will get it down. I am glad to say we are all well and that [Cuyler][36] is better. You know Cuyler has been sick with dyptheria … they thought
at first he would be sure to die.
I commenced this letter three days ago and have not had time to write
any more on it. Johnnie[37]
told me when Cuyler was so sick that he would write you and Gabe a card and
tell you about it. I asked him
today if he wrote it he said I never did you surely can’t depend on him to do
anything. Cuyler is up and about
now they have fumigated the house and none of the other children have taken
it. I hope none of them will. I can’t help but feel uneasy. They had Cuyler at Mrs. Pinkertons[38]
burial he was sick that day and had a fever at the church. Minnie[39]
told me he had croup mighty bad the night before he got worse from that day.
I left Martha at home with Sara[40]
and have been glad ever since that I did.
I wish you could see the precious darling. She [Martha] gets prettier, fatter, smarter and sweeter
everyday. [She]
can sit alone now and she is just as bad as she can be. Annie Belle[41]
sent her a pair of little blue shoes.
The children think they are the cutest things they ever saw. They talk about you every day. They
sing, “have you seen my Jimmie Brown” and have your old white shoes that you
had the sore foot in. Hattie says
they look like you. There is no
one at home now but Martha, Lucius[42]
and myself. The other day Lucius was
right quiet for a long time and then he commenced smiling and said mama I love
to see Jim Brown I wish he would come back home he “haffs” so “wunnie” just
this way he shut one eye and tried to show how you laughed.
We have just finished digging the potatoes and making the syrup and a
good crop of each one about 125 bushels of potatoes and 30 gallons of syrup
that will be a plenty to last us all the year.
The last third Sunday Bro.[43]
and Sister Pace came home with us to dinner. I had a nice fat possum for dinner and when I began to put
the dinner on the table I told Lucius to stay and keep the kittens. I was in the kitchen and heard such a
commotion in the dining room I rushed in and Aunt Lou (Lucius’ kitten) had
jumped on the table and garbed the possum by the leg and Lucius had her by the
tail and pulling. They were making
an awful racket. I took the kitten
by the neck and threw her out of the door but she never turned the possum
loose.
Mr. C. says tell you that George gets thinner as the weather gets colder. We are having some right cold weather
now had a killing frost the middle of Oct. but have not had any ice yet. How is Rosebud tell her I say “Thank
you I am well how are you” she will understand dont you reckon any of them ever
will write to me anymore.
The school children are busying fixing for the fair they are very
confident of the first prize which is fifty dollars. I hope they will get it. Everybody is in bed and asleep but me so I will have to stop
and go to bed too. I got a picture
of Gabe and Bettie[44]
the other day. I was so glad to
get it I think they both look better than I ever saw them. Gab looks like a buckeyes rabbit but he
was fat and fine. …..
send all the love you want please write some to your loving Lucie.
Lucie was a loving and affectionate mother. About 1910 she sent this poem[45] to her daughter, Annie Belle.
Annie Belle Clopton Stanford
The curfew tells the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea,
The cotton pickers homeward plod their weary
way;
And leave the world to darkness and to me.
And while Tom milks the lowing herd,
I’ll write my darling child a word.
Martha’s asleep, the darling tot.
And Sarah cooks the supper hot.
Grandpa sits calmly under his tree,
With Lucius standing by his knee.
Hattie busily spreads the cloth for tea
(Buttermilk)
Singing as merry as can be.
Miss Lucie feeds the little chicks,
And beats old Bill with many licks.
Gabe is bringing in some chips,
With very pouting, stuck out lips.
Papa comes tired from the lot,
Ready for his supper hot.
Now all this likes to be complete
Is you to fill your vacant sea.
Loving
Mamma
A
Strange Fish
Mr. Clopton was a confederate
veteran
and was wounded in the
service wearing
a silver plate as a
protection to a part
of the skull for many years.
Before his death in
1915, William Henry Harrison
Clopton visited three of his sons who were living in Miami and wrote the
following letter to his Pea Ridge family.
February
25, 1905
My
Dear Niece:
I
received your most welcome letter a few days ago. Was glad to hear from you all (and)
glad to hear that you was well.
Sorry to hear that you had such cold weather. We have had some cold weather - for this country. Everything is green and more pretty
flowers. I wish you was here to go
around with me to see all the
pretty flowers and boats and strange looking fis[h]
and sea animals and -?-. Jim was very sick for two or three days so I had to stay with him and
give him medicine.[46] I have not seen much of Rosebud and the
Girtmans. I spent one evening on
the Ocean beach [and] it is a grand sight to see the great [waves]
coming and brake on the beach. I
am going to the house of -?- before many days then I can get some
shells. Tell Mrs. Spivey I am
getting her some shells. I have
had a good time but I will be glad when the time comes for me to come home. I wrote Johnnie to see Terrell
Wingfield and see if it made any difference if I was not sworn in until time
for me to commence my work but he don’t seem to notice it. Give my love to all the family. Kiss all the children for me.
Your
Grandpa W.H.C.
P.S. When you write … the number of the box
is No. 85
AGED CITIZEN OF COUNTY
DIED FRIDAY NIGHT
On last Friday night, at the home of his daughter,
Mrs. J. W. Callaway, near Eatonton, occurred the death of Mr. William Clopton,
“Uncle Billy,” as he was known to all our people.
Probably no citizen of the county was more widely
known or more universally respected and highly esteemed. He had lived to a ripe old age, filling
the years with useful service, and many there are who have been the recipients
of numerous kindnesses at his hands.
Mr. Clopton was a confederate veteran and was
wounded in the service, wearing a silver plate as a protection to a part of the
skull for many years; and this, it
is thought, was largely responsible for severe spells of nervousness from which
he had been a sufferer, and which was probably the indirect cause of his
death. He was, however, sick only
a day or so previous to his death, which came as quite a surprise and a severe
blow to his relatives and hosts of friends.
Mrs. Clopton, his wife, preceded him to the grave
many years, and also one daughter.
He is survived by his daughter, Mrs. Callaway, at whose home he died,
and by six sons, two of whom, Messrs, John and Tom Clopton, reside in Putnam,
one in Atlanta, and three in Miami, Fla.
The sympathy of the town and county is extended to these in their
sorrow.
For many years Mr. Clopton was Tax Receiver of
Putnam, always being regarded as one of her best officers; courteous and kind,
but businesslike and efficient at all times. The funeral services were held at Concord church Saturday
afternoon and the interment made in the cemetery at that place.[47]
Uncle Johnnie
At that moment about six hands grabbed
The 300 pound conductor. They raised him
High in the air and set him down on a hot stove.
All these letters
were lovingly picked up by the mailman, fourth child, John Godkin Clopton,
known universally as Uncle Johnnie.
He never bothered to point out to his sisters and nieces that postage
was required, and for years he quietly affixed stamps to their missives. Uncle Johnnie’s nephew, Henry King
Stanford, remembered him well.
Johnnie
carried the US mail on at least two RFD routes in Putnam County. I got a tremendous kick out of sitting
with Uncle Johnnie in the buggy drawn by a mule. I still remember how he would bring the families along the
way not only the US mail, but various items of groceries and household
goods. The customers had given him
the money the previous day and specified what they would like for him to bring
out from town!
Once,
he tried to cross the ford on swollen Crooked Creek, but obviously did not
notice the depth of the water, because the buggy and mail were washed away; but
he and the mule escaped.
My mother’s sister, Sara Elizabeth Callaway, told me once how she came back from Eatonton in a buggy and noticed all along the way that some letters had been blown by the wind out of Johnnie’s buggy. She picked them all up, she said, and gave them to Uncle Johnnie the next day.
He
never learned to drive a car; so when the U. S. government ordered all carriers
to drive automobiles, Uncle Johnnie had to employ a driver to take him around.
One memory of Uncle
Johnnie has remained vivid all down through the years. We were walking through the dog
trot of the home in which his brother and sister-in-law[48]
lived. He turned and pointed to a
framed certificate on the wall and blurted out: “You will never get a diploma from high school or from a
college when you go that will be worth as much as this one!”[49] When I asked him what it was, he said
proudly: “It is the certificate I
received from the government when I retired from my mail-carrier route, and it
pays me $100.00 per month the rest of my life!”
Uncle Johnnie preparing to deliver the
mail in rural Putnam County, Georgia
Uncle Johnnie enjoyed
having a drink or two from time to time.
In an undated article appearing in The Eatonton Messenger,[50]
fellow Pea Ridger, Benjamin Arnold Bustin recounted one memorable event
involving Uncle Johnnie.
Dr. J. A. Knight had a half brother named William,[51]
but Pea Ridge called him Bill, and the name was so familiar that if you had
called him anything but Bill Knight the oldest inhabitant would not have known
who you were talking about.
Bill Knight cultivated a farm on the head waters of
Blue Branch, one of the most celebrated streams of Pea Ridge, celebrated as the
haunts of Brer Possum and Brer Coon, but chiefly because in its swampy recesses
stands a large granite rock behind which Wiley Arnold,[52]
David Hitchcock, Louis Yancey and Rev. James A. Baugh[53] hid when Sherman’s Army was hiking
through Pea Ridge.
Having so much cotton in the field Bill Knight
concluded to have a cotton picking one Saturday afternoon, so he secured about
three gallons or so of John Barley Corn, and invited all of his neighbors,
white and black, but Bill found out to his sorrow after it was too late that he
had too much juice, and the result was disastrous.
When Sunday morning dawned, there were so many
headaches [none of the men were] able to go to Sunday School. Dr. Knight went down in the field and
said he found shoes, socks, hats, breeches and other human paraphernalia
scattered over about three acres of ground. One acre of cotton in different sections had been pulled up
by the roots, and the cotton scattered in all directions; he said the ground
looked like it had been the battle field of all the “Scrub Bulls” on Pea Ridge,
and when he weighed the cotton he found they had picked exactly one hundred and
seventy-six pounds!
Uncle Johnnie Clopton is about the only known
survivor, ask him but I know he will shut up like a clam.
He
and his fellow merry makers did not limit their well lubricated exploits to
Putnam County. Tom Gregory shared
his Uncle Johnnie story with the readers of The Eatonton Messenger 1998.[54]
During the prime days of railroads, the Central and
Georgia ran through Eatonton and had excursions every summer. For a small price a person could ride
to Tybee near Savannah, spend all day on the beach, and return Sunday
night. The price was exceedingly
low, so people would fill the coaches every weekend. It was a fun thing to do.
I
have pictures in my files of Uncle Bill Gregory and Uncle Johnny Clopton,
dressed in the latest in men’s swimwear, standing on the beach at Tybee. One Sunday afternoon, the cars were
filled with young folks from Middle Georgia. They were all in the mood for fun. They had boxes and boxes of good food and some had bottles
of beverages. The beverages made
the trip memorable since the atmosphere became merrier as the riders began
sharing their drinks.
[They
said] the coaches became the scene of one great party as the train moved
northward. The conductor did not
protest as the excursionists moved from one car to the other, singing and
talking real loud.
Soon
it was obvious that the party was getting out of hand and the conductor felt
that order had to be restored. He
walked through several times begging the crowd to take it easy. His pleas fell on deaf ears, so he soon
walked in and in a loud voice demanded that they get quiet or he would stop the
train.
At
that moment about six hands grabbed the 300-pound conductor. They raised him high in the air and
then set him down on a hot stove in the corner. Some people still wonder if that incident had any part in
the railroad’s decision to stop passenger service to Eatonton. Most people said it didn’t.
Uncle
Johnnie died in 1947 and was laid to rest in Concord Methodist Church’s
cemetery. A memorial appeared in The
Eatonton Messenger,[55]
highlighting his good works, but, alas, devoid of any reference to his best
remembered exploits.
.
MEMORIAM
“Uncle
Johnnie”
I do not know how old he
is; I do not know how many brothers and sisters he had; I do not know even who
his Father and Mother were, or where he was born; but there is one thing we all
know, and that is, HE WAS UNCLE JOHNNIE!
John
G. Clopton lived such a life as to make himself known and loved by as many
different people as any man that ever lived in a County, and he wore, and still
wears, such a diadem because he lived the beautiful example of real service by
sharing his substance and thinking of others! If all the apples and oranges and ice cream cones that he so
willingly bought for little children as he casually passed them by could be
turned into pansies, the road that leads from his house to his now last resting
place would be lined on either side by ribbons of these lovely flowers; if all
of the writing tablets and pencils and schoolbooks that he bought little
children that he knew needed them could be turned into stoneblocks, they would
furnish stepping stones that would form an unbroken pathway from his home to
the quiet little cemetery in his beloved Concord; if the dollars that he so lavishly gave to young girls and
boys that he felt deserving could be turned into marble, his body could now be
resting in a mausoleum that would adorn and beautify the cemetery at Arlington;
if all of the spools of thread and the dress-goods that he bought and sent to
homes where he felt little children were in dire need could be turned into
ribbons, there would be enough to enclose a wall around the plot of ground
which marks Concord as Church property.
Why
all this about this humble man?
It’s because he proved himself a man who “Lived by the side of the road”
and was a friend to man.
He loved people; he
loved his county; he loved the old Songs of Zion and he loved his Church. He loved the traditions of the Old
South and his heart and his eyes would often swell with pride and tears as he
would recount the valiant deeds of heroes that he loved and whose memories he
cherished.
Yes,
Uncle Johnnie was a gentleman. He
was always kind and thoughtful of others; he gave to every man the right to his
own opinion tho’ he was always true to his own. He was a humble man and made no pretense at show or
lamour(sp) and admired the gentle virtures(sp) as he construed them in others. And now that he has gone to his
Heavenly reward, we will think of him as one of God’s hand men in making little
children happy and in comforting and helping those spirits who now and then
come to some melancholy moments.
And may soft winds blow over his last resting place and may gentle rains
and a mild Sun ever keep green the lonely spot that marks his untimely grave.
By his friend,
Flournoy Middlebrooks
June 16, 1947
The
fifth Clopton, Gabriel Harrison Clopton, also moved to Florida. Gabe, and his brother, “Boss,” worked
on a tomato farm. The main industry
in Florida at that time was growing fruits and vegetables for the winter
markets, especially organs, grapefruit, pineapples, guavas, mangoes, limes,
avocados, peppers, tomatoes, beans and eggplants They traveled mostly on foot. Prior to the Spanish-American War, they walked to Miami from
Bartow, Florida. At first they
returned home each Spring to help out at home. Eventually they decided to make Florida their home.
The message on the back
of this post card, date and author unknown, reads: “This is the way they pick oranges those sack you see on
there backs hold one half of a box of oranges These boxes are drawed to the packing
houses by mules and oxen and there they are washed and dried and packed in
other boxes. They use small ripers
to pack oranges if they didn’t when you would pull it would tare the hide on
them”
When
Gabe returned to Putnam County toward the end of his life, he was “taken into” the
home of his brother, William Thomas “Boo” Clopton. He loved to reminisce about his experiences in South
Florida. Of all these he was
proudest of the fact he was one of the carpenters who worked on Viscaya, the multi-million-dollar home
on Biscayne Bay of James Deering, a member of the very wealthy mid-Western farm
machinery manufacturing company.
BOSS
BECOMES A LAND BARON
This worked very well, or
perhaps I should just say
it worked, for two months.
James Brown Clopton, the
sixth child, was called “Boss,” by the family, and “Uncle Boss,” by nieces and
nephews who loved him dearly. When
he was a little boy he used to follow his older brothers out to the
fields. Too small to work, he
would sit on a stump while they hoed the crops. Thus, they dubbed him, “the boss,” and it stuck. He had a marvelous sense of humor and
was a first rate raconteur. He was one of the early Florida
pioneers. Happily, Clopton Cousin,
Wallace Theodore Jones,[56]
wrote an account of Boss’ one and only attempt to find fame and fortune in the
rich virgin soil of south Florida.
Early in 1904 [my brother] Watt and Cousin Jim
Clopton read or heard of a fast-growing little town named Miami, in South
Florida, and, in a spirit of adventure, went down to join in with what promised
to be something quite different and exciting. They found something different and exciting to be sure, in
fact too much so at first.
Homesteads were available free, the only requirement for a deed being to
live on the homestead for one year.
These were all some distance south of Miami. I don’t know how much acreage each one contained but the
land was covered with a thick growth of palmettos and a scattering of pine
trees, and inhabited by scores of rattlesnakes and millions of mosquitoes. The first job was to build a little
rough lumber shack to live in.
Now
if they were going to develop the land, as many others did, all they had to do
was to cut away the palmettos with machetes, pile them up to dry while, with
grub-hoes, they dug up all the tough and stubborn palmetto roots. Then they’d have to burn all of this,
after which they must plow the land and plant vegetables. Of course they’d have to buy lumber and
screens, a cook stove and a water pump to sink into the ground, and tools, and
mosquito repellent, and liniment and other medicines and, of course, food. They could, instead of buying beds, chairs, table, cabinets,
etc., - they could make these out of rough lumber, all the above mentioned for
sale by an old-timer who had already established a store and supply house. And they could make mattresses out of
pine straw. They could, maybe, but
would they?
But
there was an alternative. They
could apply for the homestead and just hold it as an investment to sell years
later. All they’d have to do was
just live on it for a year. They,
not surprisingly, elected the latter alternative, unanimously. They took with them on bicycles their
homestead assignment paper, a few small carpentry tools, extra clothing and as
much canned food as they could, all in baskets attached to handle bars. They had money enough to buy lumber,
screens, tools, etc., and they built a shack, with the advice and help of the
“Old Timer.” Now two overwhelming
obstacles loomed before them. They
had to have food for a whole year; and could they really bear to stay there 365
days? Jim came up with an idea to
solve both obstacles at once. They
had already got acquainted with Mr. E. L. Brady, Miami’s leading grocer, and
Jim had worked for him for a while before he decided on the homestead. He’d ask Mr. Brady to give them a job
to earn money for food, and also ask to let them both work alternate weeks to
relieve the loneliness, boredom and inconveniences. Mr. Brady agreed.
Jim worked the first week, having planned with Watt that they’d both
leave at the same time after breakfast on Sunday on bicycles. When they met half-way each would
inform the other of the situation ahead of him, what work was to be done and
how to do it. This worked very
well, or perhaps I should just say it worked, for two months.
Now the “Old Timers” store and supply house also served as a gathering place for homesteaders within two or three miles radius. Any time they wanted fellowship they could ride or walk the sand trails to the store, usually in the evening, build a bonfire surrounded by smoke screen fires against mosquitoes, swap stories, play cards, and drink drams. One evening Watt decided to walk to the store. When he was a few hundred yards from his planned destination, he became aware that he was being followed by a wild beast. He ran the rest of the way as fast as he could and just as he got within range of the light from the bonfire, he heard a growl and something big ran off into the bushes. The “Old Timer” said it was a panther,[57] so all the men spent the night around that fire, sleeping on the ground and taking turns tending the fire, for the panther would not come n