290 Norte Carona Troops, 1861-’65.

a private road which led to a creek at the base of the hill on
which Hamby house stood. In the plan of attack, part of
the company under Colonel G. W. Flowers was to approach
from the north while the other part under Captain Ellis, was
to approach from the south, and then surround the house.
In the enthusiasm of the moment all seemed to forget the dan-
ger. Colonel Flowers’ men had gotten within seventy-five
yards and Captain Ellis’ men within twenty yards of the
house when its defenders poured a volley of minie balls
through the port holes. James Polk Linney, only 16 years
old, and Jones Brown, about 18 years of age, were killed. As
the squad that followed Captain Ellis to the south side of the
house got within fifty yards of the east end of the house, W.
¥. Patterson and Burrel Connolly, two Confederate veterans,
rushed up the hill to the house, Patterson before, Linney
next and Connolly next. When they reached the house I
heard the voice of my brother for the last time, say: “Boys,
they are going to shoot.” Immediately the guns of the rob-
bers were heard and Patterson and Connolly rode away, while
Linney sat on his horse at the east end of the house with his
body bent as though he were trying to adjust his spur. Soon
he went to the ground still holding the reins of his horse.
He was mortally wounded by a minie ball passing through
his head, having entered just below the right eye. The rob-
bers gave him no assistance, not even a drink of water, until
Monday evening, when he died.

Brown was charging up the hill on the west side when he
was wounded. Some of the men were compelled to jump
from their horses and throw themselves on the ground in or-
der to escape being shot down. Their horses became fright-

ened and breaking loose from them, ran to where Wade’s men ~

had their horses. Two of these horses were the ones captured
from Wade at Mr. Green’s. These men did not recover their

horses at this time.
Under the severe fire the men were compelled to retreat,

and when they had retreated to a small stream, Brown, who
had been shot, fell from his horse and died in the presence of
Rev. L. P. Gwaltney, who was then a boy about the age of
Brown. Mr. Gwaltney says:

A BatrLe AFTER THE War. 291

‘““As we were approaching Holman’s Ford the word passed
along the line that the house standing on an eminence to our
right was the headquarters of the desperate land pirates
whom we were pursuing. Brown looking in that direction,

turned and said, ‘They are going to fight, sure.’ Pointing

his finger toward a wood above the Hamby house, some
women were plainly to be seen retreating into the woods,
‘That,’ said he, ‘means business.’ Then, taking his gun from
his shoulder and laying it across his saddle, holding it and the
reins of his horse with his left hand and laying his right
hand on the butt of his revolver, he rode silently on. After
crossing the Yadkin river a detour of perhaps half a mile
was made when we found ourselves halted on the bank of a
roaring, rocky little stream, while our advance was slowly
crossing the rough and rapid stream. The sun was stooping
low towards the summits of the Blue Ridge in our rear,
Brown casting his eye over his shoulder, gazed at the beauti-
ful scene and observed, ‘What a beautiful Sunday to be en-
gaged in work like this, guiding his horse into the stream
and ere all had landed, our advance had reached the open
field and the fray was on. As we emerged from the thicket
skirting the stream, Brown fired his gun towards the house.
James Linney, brave, noble youth, was shot from his horse
near the fatal den. Brown hastily drawing his revolver,
with flashing eye and face aflame, plunged forward to the
fray, only a few leaps were taken, only twice did his faithful
revolver speak when the fearful whack of the enemy’s bullet,
as distinctly heard as the smiting together of the palms of the
hands, indicated some one was struck. Brown suddenly
reined his horse, threw up his right hand from which his
smoking revolver fell and exclaimed, ‘I’m shot, I’m killed.’
The hope was expressed that he was not seriously hurt. ‘Ah,’
he said, pointing to his bleeding leg from which the blood was
flowing in a stream, ‘I shall be dead in five minutes.’ Then
lifting his eyes upward as if in prayer, he cried, ‘O, such a
little time to prepare to die.’ These were the last words I
heard him speak. Almost simultaneous with this we began
to dismount and a confused retreat began. Passing the spot
the writer snatched his revolver and brought it away. Cast-