Post by RogueWarrior1957 on Aug 23, 2004 4:52:14 GMT 12.75
To prepare the setting for my tale, and a little background history...I was born in north central Mississippi, my early childhood colored with tales around the hearth of different family members who had served in the Civil War. The most intrigueing of which came from my maternal grandfather about one of his uncles. Here is the tale of "Trotter" Bell as told by my grandpa.
After emigrating from Scotland, the Bell clan moved westward out of the Carolinas to the Signal Mountain area outside present day Chattanooga, Tennessee. The old log house still stands on the side of the mountain at my last visit through that area.
Great-great-grandfather Tom Bell, and his Native American wife, Minerva, raised quite a large family in their mountain retreat. Family legend has it that she married this Scotsman rather than go on the Trail of Tears. Their oldest son, Thomas Bell II was my great-grandfather. The tale centers around one of the younger boys, "Trotter."
The Bell clan owned no slaves, being fairly poor and having plenty of kids to work as field hands. They preferred to stay neutral in this new conflict between the North and the South. The younger boy "Trotter" was already quite the figure of a man barrel-chested and standing 6 foot 6 in his stocking feet at the age of 16. He and his childhood friend, Charlie Bowers (Burrows?) decided that they had no interest in joining either side and tried every trick to evade the draft. From the vantage point of the family home aside the mountain, the road could be viewed for quite a distance, and whenever a stranger was seen to be headed up the road, the two boys would light out the back door through the woods, hiding until "Grandma Minerva" gave the signal that all was safe. I suppose this didn't set too well with the local constabulary having draft dodgers in their midst, so one morning they set out through the woods tracking the two boys with bloodhounds. None of the usual evasive tactics seemed to work with the dogs hot on their heels, so Trotter suggested to his friend that they had to do something. Trotter said, "Charlie, we's probably about to git dawg bit if'n we try this...but we's about to git caught if'n we don't do sumpthin'!" The two waited on a low lying tree limb until the dogs were underneath, then jumped down on top of the dogs and using their suspenders, hanged the dogs from the tree limb and made good their escape, albeit with numerous dog bites.
Family legend tells that the boys grew tired of their running and finally joined the Confederate Forces. I'm sure there were many more tales about these two that would bear repeating. Sadly a lot of family history is lost with time...most of the older members have already passed on. Both Trotter and Charlie survived the Civil War and went on to have families of their own. I remember Trotter's son, Gaston, as an old, old man, my grandfather's age back when I was a wee lad. My grandfather lived until I was 16, passing at the ripe old age of 96 in 1974. Too bad I didn't know enough then to write down all his old tales of way back when.
Not knowing if "Trotter" was a real name or a nickname, I haven't found anything about him in searching the Civil War Records...I don't even know what regiment he would have been in. But the story, whether actual or something contrived by a grandpa to entertain his wide-eyed grandson, has stayed with me all these years.
After emigrating from Scotland, the Bell clan moved westward out of the Carolinas to the Signal Mountain area outside present day Chattanooga, Tennessee. The old log house still stands on the side of the mountain at my last visit through that area.
Great-great-grandfather Tom Bell, and his Native American wife, Minerva, raised quite a large family in their mountain retreat. Family legend has it that she married this Scotsman rather than go on the Trail of Tears. Their oldest son, Thomas Bell II was my great-grandfather. The tale centers around one of the younger boys, "Trotter."
The Bell clan owned no slaves, being fairly poor and having plenty of kids to work as field hands. They preferred to stay neutral in this new conflict between the North and the South. The younger boy "Trotter" was already quite the figure of a man barrel-chested and standing 6 foot 6 in his stocking feet at the age of 16. He and his childhood friend, Charlie Bowers (Burrows?) decided that they had no interest in joining either side and tried every trick to evade the draft. From the vantage point of the family home aside the mountain, the road could be viewed for quite a distance, and whenever a stranger was seen to be headed up the road, the two boys would light out the back door through the woods, hiding until "Grandma Minerva" gave the signal that all was safe. I suppose this didn't set too well with the local constabulary having draft dodgers in their midst, so one morning they set out through the woods tracking the two boys with bloodhounds. None of the usual evasive tactics seemed to work with the dogs hot on their heels, so Trotter suggested to his friend that they had to do something. Trotter said, "Charlie, we's probably about to git dawg bit if'n we try this...but we's about to git caught if'n we don't do sumpthin'!" The two waited on a low lying tree limb until the dogs were underneath, then jumped down on top of the dogs and using their suspenders, hanged the dogs from the tree limb and made good their escape, albeit with numerous dog bites.
Family legend tells that the boys grew tired of their running and finally joined the Confederate Forces. I'm sure there were many more tales about these two that would bear repeating. Sadly a lot of family history is lost with time...most of the older members have already passed on. Both Trotter and Charlie survived the Civil War and went on to have families of their own. I remember Trotter's son, Gaston, as an old, old man, my grandfather's age back when I was a wee lad. My grandfather lived until I was 16, passing at the ripe old age of 96 in 1974. Too bad I didn't know enough then to write down all his old tales of way back when.
Not knowing if "Trotter" was a real name or a nickname, I haven't found anything about him in searching the Civil War Records...I don't even know what regiment he would have been in. But the story, whether actual or something contrived by a grandpa to entertain his wide-eyed grandson, has stayed with me all these years.