acre of the McIntoshes--Nehemathla--Onchees--The Last
of the Race--A Brave Warrior--A White Man's Friendship--The
Death-Song--Tuskega; or, Jim's Boy

CHAPTER XXXIII.
FUN, FACT, AND FANCY.

Eugenius Nesbitt--Washington Poe--Yelverton P. King--Preparing to
Receive the Court--Walton Tavern, in Lexington--Billy Springer, of
Sparta--Freeman Walker--An Augusta Lawyer--A Georgia Major--Major
Walker's Bed--Uncle Ned--Discharging a Hog on His Own Recognizance
--Morning Admonition and Evening Counsel--A Mother's Request--
Invocation--Conclusion

THE MEMORIES OF FIFTY YEARS.

CHAPTER I.

REVOLUTIONARY TRADITIONS.

MIDDLE GEORGIA--COLONEL DAVID LOVE--HIS WIDOW--GOVERNOR DUNMORE--
COLONEL TARLETON--BILL CUNNINGHAM--COLONEL FANNIN--MY GRANDMOTHER'S
BIBLE--SOLOMON'S MAXIM APPLIED--ROBERTUS LOVE--THE INDIAN WARRIOR--
DRAGON CANOE--A BUXOM LASS--GENERAL GATES--MARION--MASON L. WEEMS--
WASHINGTON--"BILLY CRAFFORD."

My earliest memories are connected with the first settlement of Middle
Georgia, where I was born. My grandparents on the mother's side, were
natives of North Carolina; and, I believe, of Anson county. My
grandfather, Colonel David Love, was an active partisan officer in the
service of the Continental Congress. He died before I was born; but my
grandmother lived until I was seventeen years of age. As her oldest
grandchild, I spent much of my time, in early boyhood, at her home
near the head of Shoulderbone Creek in the county of Green. She was a
little, fussy, Irish woman, a Presbyterian in religion, and a very
strict observer of all the duties imposed upon her sect, especially in
keeping holy the Sabbath day. All her children were grown up, married,
and, in the language of the time, "gone away." She was in truth a lone
woman, busying herself in household and farming affairs. With a few
negroes, and a miserably poor piece of land, she struggled in her
widowhood with fortune, and contrived, with North Carolina frugality
and industry, not only to make a decent living, but to lay up
something for a rainy day, as she phrases it. In her visits to her
fields and garden, I ran by her side and listened to stories of Tory
atrocities and Whig suffering in North Carolina during the Revolution.
The infamous Governor Dunmore, the cruel Colonel Tarleton, and the
murderous and thieving Bill Cunningham and Colonel Fannin, both
Tories, and the latter natives to the soil, were presented graphically
to me in their most h