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.
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
The author of these pages first saw the light of day atthe family home of his father, Mr. Miles Gary Macon,called “Fairfield,” situated on the banks of that historicriver, the “Chicahominy,” in the good old County of Hanover,in Virginia. My grandfather, Colonel William HartwellMacon, started each of his sons on the voyage oflife with a farm, and the above was allotted to my respectedparent. Belonging to the place, about one or two milesfrom the dwelling, was a grist mill known as “Mekenses,”and how the name of “Macon” could have been corruptedto “Mekenses,” is truly unaccountable, yet such is thecase. The City of Richmond was distant about eight milesto the South. This old homestead passed out of the Maconfamily possession about seventy years ago, and a Mr. Overtonsucceeded my father in the ownership of “Fairfield”and the mill. Later a Doctor Gaines purchased it. Myhighly respected parents were the fortunate possessors ofa large and flourishing family of ten children, all of whomwere born at “Fairfield.”
The Macon manor house was situated just on the edgeof the famous trucking section of Hanover County, whichagricultural characteristic gave its soil an extensive reputationfor the production of the celebrated and highly-prizedmelons and sweet potatoes of Hanover, known to Eastern Virginia for their toothsomeness and great size.This fine old plantation was surrounded by country estatesbelonging to Virginia families, who were very sociable,cultured and agreeable people. My father and motherwere thoroughly imbued with the spirit of that old-timegenial country hospitality, which was never found anywherein this country more cordial, nor probably evenequal, to it. It afforded them infinite pleasure to visit andto receive the calls of their neighbors. It was then theinvariable custom, when guests were entertained, for thehost to set out refreshments, always the best the larderafforded, and to insist upon a liberal partaking of it, fora refusal of the good cheer was indeed a rare thing, andit was not considered polite to decline joining in wishinggood health and prosp