Joseph, Son of a Yankee Spy

By S. S. Chapman

This is the story of my great-grandfather, Joseph Whitney. He was the third son of parents who moved to Florida from Maine in 1845, the year it became a state. He was born in Picolata on the St. Johns river eighteen miles west of St. Augustine in 1848. His mother died when he was only nine-years-old. He and his three brothers were then in the care of their fi fty-seven-year-old father who was very preoccupied with a mysterious life of his own. This is the story of one boys life as a Florida-pioneer in the years that led up to the Civil War

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450029506

S. S. Chapman

Sheralon Sue Chapman is a mother and grandmother, elementary school teacher, and fi fth generation Floridian. She was born, attended school, and still lives in St. Petersburg, FL. She inherited from her father a love for history and all things past. And from her mother she learned the stories that are recorded in this book.

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Copyright © 2010 by S. S. Chapman.

Library of Congress Control Number:          2010900597

ISBN:              Hardcover                    978-1-4500-2949-0

                         Softcover                     978-1-4500-2948-3

                        Ebook                           978-1-4500-2950-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 1

Joseph stood at the edge of the open grave. There had been so many, but this was by far the hardest to accept. She had been sick for so long with the cancer in her throat. He had watched it eat away at her until, in the end, he could see her food as she swallowed it. His mind fought the reality that his mother, Mahala, was gone. She was too young. She was only thirty-one years old.

There were six small graves nearby. In Joseph’s nine years, he had watched his younger brothers and one sister come into this world and leave it. And now this land of scrub oaks and palmettos seemed even harsher than usual.

Joseph’s thoughts were disturbed by the baby’s cries. Harmon, eight months old, had been asleep on a quilt in the shade of the oak tree. Joseph went to pick him up. He held him high and looked into his sleepy eyes, Will you be next, little fellow?

Joseph had reason to worry about the baby. When he was barely three years old, his eighteen month old brother, Sedate, died.