The Memories of Fifty Years / Containing Brief Biographical Notices of Distinguished Americans, and Anecdotes of Remarkable Men; Interspersed with Scenes and Incidents Occurring during a Long Life of Observation Chiefly Spent in the Southwest

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STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN & SON. PRINTED BY MOORE BROS.
MY BROTHER AND NEPHEW, THE HONORABLE OVID GARTEN SPARKS, AND COLONEL THOMAS HARDEMAN, OF MACON, GEORGIA.
This Volume is Dedicated
BY THEIR AGED AND AFFECTIONATE RELATIVE, TRUSTING THEY WILL ESTEEM IT, WHEN HE SHALL HAVE PASSED TO ETERNITY, AS SOME EVIDENCE OF THE AFFECTION BORNE THEM BY
The Author.
In the same week, and within three days of the same date, I received from three Judges of the Supreme Court, of three States, the request that I would record my remembrances of the men and things I had known for fifty years. The gentlemen making this request were Joseph Henry Lumpkin, of Georgia; William L. Sharkey, of Mississippi, and James G. Taliaferro, of Louisiana.
From Judge Sharkey the request was verbal; from the other two it came in long and, to me, cherished letters. All three have been my intimate friends—Lumpkin from boyhood; the others for nearly fifty years. Judge Lumpkin has finished his work in time, and gone to his reward. Judges Sharkey and Taliaferro yet live, both now over seventy years of age. The former has retired from the busy cares of office, honored, trusted, and beloved; the latter still occupies a seat upon the Bench of the Supreme Court of Louisiana.
These men have all sustained unreproached reputations, and retained through their long lives the full confidence of the people of their respective States. I did not feel at liberty to resist their appeal: I had resided in all three of the States; had known long and intimately their people; had been extensively acquainted with very many of the most prominent men of the nation—and in the following pages is my compliance.
I have trusted only to my memory, and to a journal kept for many years, when a younger man than I am to-day—hastening to the completion of my seventieth year. Doubtless, I have made many mistakes of minor importance; but few, I trust, as to matters of fact. Of one thing I am sure: nothing has been wilfully written which can wound the feelings of any.