



Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net





Note: This version preserves the irregular chapter numbering scheme of
the original printing; ignoring the first and last chapters, the rest
are numbered I-II, IV, XI, XV-XXIII, XXVI-XXVII, XXIX-XXXV. Also, many
variant and alternative spellings have been preserved, except where
obviously misspelled in the original.




LIFE GLEANINGS



Compiled by

T. J. MACON



RICHMOND, VA.



1913

W. H. ADAMS, Publisher

Richmond, Virginia




PREFACE


My Life's Gleanings is not intended to be a technical history
chronologically arranged, but a reproduction of events that my memory
recalls. By retrospecting to occurrences that happened during my
journey of life. To those who were contemporaneous with the gleanings
alluded to they will recognize them. To the younger reader he will
glean what happened in the past. The incident and anecdote is founded
on facts. I launch the book on the highway of public approval, hoping
the reader will not be disappointed.                      THE AUTHOR.




MY LIFE'S GLEANINGS

COMPILED BY T. J. MACON




CHAPTER I.


The author of these pages first saw the light of day at the family
home of his father, Mr. Miles Gary Macon, called "Fairfield," situated
on the banks of that historic river, the "Chicahominy," in the good
old County of Hanover, in Virginia. My grandfather, Colonel William
Hartwell Macon, started each of his sons on the voyage of life with a
farm, and the above was allotted to my respected parent. Belonging to
the place, about one or two miles from the dwelling, was a grist mill
known as "Mekenses," and how the name of "Macon" could have been
corrupted to "Mekenses," is truly unaccountable, yet such is the case.
The City of Richmond was distant about eight miles to the South. This
old homestead passed out of the Macon family possession about seventy
years ago, and a Mr. Overton succeeded my father in the ownership of
"Fairfield" and the mill. Later a Doctor Gaines purchased it. My
highly respected parents were the fortunate possessors of a large and
flourishing family of ten children, all of whom were born at
"Fairfield."

The Macon manor house was situated just on the edge of the famous
trucking section of Hanover County, which agricultural characteristic
gave its soil an extensive reputation for the production of the
celebrated and highly-prized melons and sweet potatoes of Hanover,
known to Eastern Virginia for their toothsomeness and great size. This
fine old plantation was surrounded by country estates belonging to
Virginia families, who were very sociable, cultured and agreeable
people. My father and mother were thoroughly imbued with the spirit of
that old-time genial country hospitality, which was never found
anywhere in this country more cordial, nor probably even equal, to it.
It afforded them infinite pleasure to visit and to receive the calls
of their neighbors. It was then the invariable custom, when guests
were entertained, for the host to set out refreshments, always the
best the larder afforded, and to insist upon a liberal partaking of
it, for a refusal of the good cheer was indeed a rare thing, and it
was not considered polite to decline joining in wishing good health
and prosperity to your friends and neighbors, always of course in
moderate bumpers, not in excess, and then the viands bountifully
spread out were truly tempting, real old Virginia style of cooking,
such as beaten biscuits that would almost melt in one's mouth, and
other dishes almost too numerous to mention, and then such a hearty
welcome accompanied the feast and "flow of soul," and when the parting
came there was always an appealing invitation for a "speedy coming
again"--a wish for another visit.

Now there was no sham-pretence in these old Virginia manners, but
genuine heartfelt hospitality, which sprang from kind hearts. A
striking habit or custom at that happy period in the "Old Dominion"
life in the country was the intrusting of the white children of the
family to the care of a good old  nurse, or "Mammy," as they
were affectionately called by them; their mothers turned the children
over to their watchful supervision and they were truly faithful and
proud of their control of the little young masters and mistresses,
thus relieving their "old mistress" of all care in rearing them. Well
do I remember my "old Mammy," whose kindness and affectionate
t