As promised in a previous post, I have a bit more about the Ellis side of the family. Wild Bill, being the most famous Ellis, as a Deputy U.S. Marshal, (previous post) had a decendent that wound up being a lawman in Arkansas. In what must have been a fairly long tradition, his name was also William Ellis, remembered as Billy Ellis. This “Billy” was my Grandmother’s Brother. At the present time, the only tail I have of this relative, is how he lost half of his left ear.
It seems that Billy had been the Sheriff for a while and had the reputation of being somewhat of a ruffian. A kind of “my way or the highway guy”. As the story goes, there was a well known bootlegger running a profitable Still on a small island on the local fast running river. Revenuer’s had tried a couple of times to bring him in, and shut down the Still, but with no luck, and at least one of them got dead trying. Seems the old fart was mean, and also a pretty good shot. With the fast running river between him and all takers, it wasn’t easy getting the jump on him.
It seems that old Bill, had closed up the town for the night, and stopped by the backroom of the General Store (dry county) for a couple of night caps, when another patron, mentioned, that it was a shame about loosing that revenuer a week or so ago. Well, Bill had taken a bit of flack about this Still, being a dry county and all, and I guess he got a bit worked up over it. The evening ended with Bill heading down thru the sawgrass toward the river, carrying his Winchester Rifle, and everpresent Colt Peacemaker.
They didn’t get much snow in Northern Arkansas, but it was still pretty cold. Bill didn’t want to get his Rifle wet, so he stashed in on the bank and waded into the darkness, Colt firmly in hand. The current pushed him a couple hundred feet downriver of his entry point, but he made it across, wet to his armpits.
Once ashore he picked his way back upriver, to the point where he thought the Still was located. It was dark, but there must have be some bit of a moon, because as he cleared a bit of undergrowth, he could see a large bearded man tying a small barrell, between two logs. He knew that this was the “Shiner“. He stepped into the clearing, Colt at the ready, and yelled. The “Shiner” was quick and snatched up an old sawed off percusion double, then rolled to the side out of the way of the .45 slug headed his way, and pulled both triggers. One barrell misfired and the other was off target enough that Bill was only grazed by a couple of pellets, but the Colt was knocked loose from his hand by a more solid hit. The “Shiner” charged him using the sawed off as a club, but Bill got a hand on it when he swung , and they went down in a tangle. They wrestled, bit, punched and clawed until Bill whacked the “Shiner” a solid blow with a river rock. Bill tied the “Shiner’s” moaning body to the logs and barrell, then floated them back across the river, leading the “Shiner” back to town at Rifle point. Total cost of the adventure, Bill got half his left ear bit off, and had his Colt busted. The “Shiner” lost his right eye to a thumb, and his Still was smashed the next day, by, very enthusiastic Revenuer’s. (I expect that was the least of his worry’s considering the previously murdered Revenuer.)
I don’t much have more about the elder Ellis’s, just that my Uncle Billy was a farmer in Northern Arkansas.
ELLIS: Sept of the MacPherson Clan, HIGHLANDS, SCOTLAND.
Athblian shona duit !
