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Note: 1850 United States Federal Census Name: Joel Tuttle
Age: 33
Birth Year: abt 1817
Birthplace: Ohio
Home in 1850: Fearing, Washington, Ohio
Gender: Male
Family Number: 35
Household Members:
Name Age
Joel Tuttle 62, m, farmer, b-CT
Mary Tuttle 69, f, b-CT
Joel Tuttle 33, m, b-OH
1860 United States Federal Census
Name: Joel Tuttle
Age in 1860: 44
Birth Year: abt 1816
Birthplace: Ohio
Home in 1860: Fearing, Washington, Ohio
Gender: Male
Post Office: Fearing
Household Members:
Name Age
Mary Tuttle 78, f, b-CT (mother)
Joel Tuttle 44, m, day labor, b-OH (son)
Article Published In Marietta Times, March 31, 1870, p. 3, col. 4:
Joel Tuttle The Joker:
"Many readers remember honest "Joel Tuttle,"who, for the greater part of his life, resided in Fearing Township, Washington County, Ohio. JOE was not exactly sane, yet he was a great wit -a queen's buffoon. Many times his ready wit extricated him from unhappy complications. His mirth-provoking comicalities always drew around him a crowd, especially on show days. He recited poetry, caricatured the showmen, cried quack nostrums, played the beggar and the forlorn traveler, and could always acquire "pin" money from strangers by piteous lamentations about his "mamma" being sick, and about to die. His grief would appear would so deeply sincere, that the by standers invariably "shell out," and Joe went home happy and richer by his artful presentation of his case. Occasionally, he played the pettifogger before a magistrate -greatly delighted when he was retained on the opposite side of a case in which his father -the late Joel Tuttle- was engaged.
Esq. Joel, the elder, was once prosecuting a thief. The evidence was clear, and there was but one witness. Joe, the wit, took up the defense. Before the day of trial, he went to the prosecuting witness and asked him if he would swear positively to the facts. "I will," replied the witness. "I will give you a dollar if you will," says Joe. The witness pocketed the money. The day of trial came. The elder Tuttle introduced his witness, but he was astonished when confronted by Joe, demanding the discharge of the prisoner on the ground that the State's witness had been bribed to testify!
Joe stoutly maintained his position, and the witness was called to the stand. Says Joe: "Weren't you offered a dollar if you would swear agin this man?" "Well-y-y-yes-but-" "But didn't you get it, too --in clean cash-- old feller?" demanded Joe, stretching, himself up to the fullness of a lawyer's best attitude when he has propounded a "clincher."
Joe was triumphant. His case was gained, and the prisoner was discharged.
Joe was once imprisoned in our county jail for a slight deviation from the path of rectitude. He was a lone inmate for nearly two months. On being released, some one asked him how he liked it. "Oh, it is not hard work, but d--d steady!!" replied Joe.
He was walking along our streets, one day, musing in his quiet way, when he suddenly stopped, and peering into the window of a small shop, where a smart young chap was fumbling muslins, he drolly asked the shop keeper "What be kept for sale." "Blockheads!" quoth he of the yard-stick. "Well, then, I reckon they're durn'd good sale, as there's only, one left in yer shop!" was Joe's reply, and on he went -hands in his pockets -whistling "Yankee-Doodle."
It is related of Joe that he once went to a protracted meeting, in a certain locality, between Duck Creek and Lowell. He was a stranger in the neighborhood, and was better dressed than usual. Entering the church, he took a seat near the pulpit. The preacher, who was also a stranger, had not yet arrived. Joe, becoming impatient, took the hymn book, and gave out the familiar hymn commencing---
On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, And cast a wishful eye, To Canaan's fair and happy land, Where my possessions lie, The audience, supposing him to be the minister, arose and commenced singing, while Joe slid out.
Poor Joe! With all his eccentricities, be had a kindly heart. He loved his, "mamma," as he always called her, with a love stronger than life; and, be the day or the night never so stormy, his footsteps were always directed to the home of his mother. I have seen the tear drops gather in his eyes when he talked of his guardian angel. Nature's tenderest fountains were bubbling up in his heart. His voice was subdued, and full reason seemed enthroned.
But now, poor Joe is dead! He had sought a home in the West, with whom, I know not. I think he died some time last year. He may have wandered away alone, or among strangers, and died of neglect, for aught I know. When he died, a pearl of real wit was buried with him."
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