How do you get a title like “Bull of the Brushies?” You gotta have “tenacity, a bulldog determination, a keen sense of humor and an ever ready of repartee,” or at least that’s how the Watauga Democrat saw it back in 1931 when they recalled Romulus Z. Linney.
He has popped up in this column for the last several weeks. Until his death in 1910, Linney was an influential and quotable personality that made his name as, first a lawyer, then a politician in western North Carolina.
He was born Romulus Zechariah Linney in Rutherford County to a wealthy judge. An education took him to Alexander County where he attended Dr. Miller’s School. He joined the war effort as a private in the 7th North Carolina and was shot at the Battle of Chancellorsville. The wound ended his service, so he went back to Dr. Miller’s to study law. There, Linney’s personality developed into a flamboyant orator, representing clients throughout communities in the Brushy Mountain chain. He was one of those attorneys that people came to watch spin language into engrossing stories that swayed juries and astounded spectators.
Photo: The Bull of the Brushies and his famous progeny, great-grandson playwright Romulus Linney IV and great-great-granddaughter, actress Laura Linney.
Once, he had a doctor on the stand. The physician was testifying that an “old lady” was “mentally incapable” of devising her own will. Linney’s client stood to lose an inheritance as a result, so counselor went to work on Dr. Jobez Long. Linney kept asking about patients treated by the doctor. The list got lengthy. When the good doctor had to admit that all of those mentioned were dead, Rom Linney pounced on that fact. Despite objections, the litigator said, “it seems that you have practiced on every person that I have mentioned and they have all died – died – DIED. Just what measure of success in treating afflicted humanity have you acquired, anyway?” More objections followed as the judge was entertained by Linney’s antics of impugning the character of a doctor who had practiced medicine for 38 years.
Linney ended his examination of the witness by declaring to the only audience that mattered, “Gentlemen of the jury, this pompous, grizzled old patriarch has the consummate egotism and effrontery to pass judgment on the mental qualifications of that poor, unfortunate woman when he admits under oath that he attempted to cure every person I have named and that each one has crossed over the river under his skillful medical attention.” Damning. He later had to apologize to Dr. Long for such an attack, admitting that he was “a very fine physician and bore a sterling reputation among the medical fraternity.”
That’s how you get to be known as the “Bull of the Brushies.”
In addition to bringing the railroad to Taylorsville and helping fund what became Appalachian State University, Linney parlayed his power of persuasion to become a politician. He gained election to the NC General Assembly as a Democrat, then turned independent when he was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives as a Republican. There, he locked horns with Jim Crow Democrats in an exchange of speeches, getting the best of them and winning the approval of the Speaker of the House. Like Sam Ervin, who came after him, Rom Linney used lots of folksy sayings to convey his point among voters and in the halls of Congress. Perhaps his best was when he said only two things never changed his opinion on a subject, “a dead horse and a live ass.” That too is how you get the fiery reputation left by Romulus Z. Linney.
