citizens, liberty one of her most enlightened, firm and determined
advocates, and the judiciary, one of its brightest ornaments.
"As a small tribute of respect to the memory of the deceased, rendered
peculiarly appropriate as it emanates from a department to which he was
both personally and professionally attached, and from a court over which
presides one who has long been his political associate and personal
friend, I offer for adoption the following:
"Resolved, That the court do forthwith adjourn and that the Judge, the
Bar and the other officials of the court attend the funeral of the
deceased.
"The court and the Bar assenting to the resolution immediately
adjourned."--_Spectator_, 1894.
SAME TO SAME.
Isleham, Jackson's River, March 7th, 1823.
_My Dear Ann_:
I arrived here on Thursday about 12 o'clock, after a very disagreeable
and fatiguing journey. The day I left home, I had good roads and fair
weather, and I reached Roadcap's on the great Calf Pasture River, near
the Panther's Gap, where I lodged. The next day I traveled in the rain
from morning till night, and over wretched roads, often a half leg deep
in mire. My horse was so wearied and exhausted I could get no further
than the Hot Springs, twenty miles. The next day I rode through sleet
and rain, mire and mud to Capt. Massie's, where I stopped until the
weather improved. I then took your brother Benjamin with me to this
point, where we have since been enjoying fine weather--the sky is now
serene and the air mild.
The day I left Staunton Mrs. Massie set out for Fincastle on a visit to
her sister, Mary, (Mrs. Woodville), who is, I am sorry to say, in
declining health. She will make an effort to fetch Mary to her home,
thinking the air and water of the Valley cannot fail to be of service to
her. Capt. Massie and the children, your father and mother, and, indeed,
all the family are in their usual good health and spirits.
A thaw has set in, the ice is breaking up, and the water courses rising.
Vegetation is a fortnight later than last year at this time. The maple
sugar season, which usually occurs in February, is just now beginning.
Nelly is very busy over her pots and pans, but has only made
thirty-three pounds. This she sends you to-day by Ben, who also carries,
among other things, the cloth for a suit of clothes sister Massie
presented me--the cloth is of her own manufacture and of fine and
durable texture. Have this suit made up for me immediately and have the
pantaloons cut by my wedding small clothes--they fit better than any of
my others. If you are too busy to give this matter your attention ask
Miss Tapp to attend to it. William will purchase the trimmings from Mr.
Cowan. [Note--Joseph Cowan then the leading dry goods merchant in
Staunton.]
I have decided to send your carriage horses by Ben and to run the risque
of making my journey through Pendleton on the mare I bought of Capt.
Massie. She is rough, much marked with harness, but is young, active and
though spirited, gentle. I prefer such a riding horse, unsightly though
she be, to the slow, lifeless movements of Kelly, who is at the best a
shuffling nag.
I am adding to the furniture and comforts of our house here--have
directed Mrs. Walton to make you some handsome counterpanes and some
linen sheets, table cloths and towels from the flax grown on the farm. I
have also bought a supply of feather beds and pillows, and purchased a
mirror and dinner service of Liverpool ware, the latter for use on great
days and holidays when you favor the place with your presence.
The servants have put up 5,900 pounds of pork and large supplies of
lard. There is every prospect that we shall have plenty of fruit and
vegetables, so that you will want none of the creature comforts when on
your visit in August. The ice-house has not been commenced, and I fear
will not be finished this season. Walton's delays are vexations--I
suspect he has an object in them--he fears to make this place too
comfortable lest you may prefer it to Staunton, in which case his
services might, and would be dispensed with. If I should be forced by
his repeated neglect of my orders to decline his services for the
future, he will have fared as he hath wrought.
I hope to get a letter from you at the Warm Springs--do not expect
another from me before my return. Ben unites with me in love to you,
William and Susan.
I remain your affectionate husband,
JOHN H. PEYTON.
P.S.--Tell William the river could not be forded, or I should have sent
for his minerals and other curiosities at McClintic's. Ben will take him
his Indian arrows and stone cannon ball, though there is no account of
the _Indians ever having used big guns_. Nelly sends Susan some maple
sugar.
MAJOR JOHN LEWIS.
Mrs. Peyton made a visit to her mother at the Sweet Springs after the
death of her father, Major John Lewis, which occurred at the Springs in
1823. Major Lewis ought to live in the memory of posterity, as he was in
more ways than one a remarkable man, renowned among his comrades for
courage, integrity, his high sense of honor and indomitable
perseverance. Let us premise a word as to this heroic old man. He had
long served in the Indian wars on the border and was present at the
battle of Point Pleasant in 1774, an officer under command of his
distinguished uncle, Gen. Andrew Lewis, commander-in-chief. During the
arduous march from Fort Union through the wilderness and at the battle
he infused his own spirit and energy into all about him, was already
renowned for his precocious military talent at the opening of the
Revolutionary war. About two years later he joined the Continental army
as a Lieutenant, was engaged in nearly all the battles in the Northern
Colonies, Monmouth, Saratoga, Trenton, etc., and spent the winter of
1777, at Valley Forge. Though a very young man he attracted and made the
lasting friendship of Washington. He rose to the rank of Major, in which
rank he served at the battle of Monmouth. At the close of the war, to
which he had devoted his energies, and just as he was in sight of the
glorious summit "where fame's proud temple shines afar," and his
services would doubtless have been rewarded by high command, the strife
ended by the recognition of American Independence. In 1783, Major Lewis
returned to his Virginia home, without having won that extended fame
which was so liberally meted out to those in high commands. From 1783,
to Wayne's victorious campaign against the Western Indians, in 1794,
Major Lewis was much on the frontier, had many encounters with savages
and border ruffians, had many hair-breadth escapes and won great
applause for his personal strength and boldness. In his frays with these
fierce borderers he displayed extraordinary physical strength as well as
indomitable pluck. He was only five feet ten inches high, but was
strongly and compactly built, and his muscular power was enormous. It
was commonly said that he was the strongest man in Virginia. His
shoulders were broad and his chest deep. His countenance was frank,
open, manly and cheerful, but at periods of danger stern and severe. In
nature he was kind and gentle, was a humane and benevolent man, neither
showing ferocity nor indulging in cruelty. He died an Elder in the
Presbyterian church, universally respected by all who knew him. During
his career he made the acquaintance of Gen. Jackson, afterwards seventh
President of the United States, who entertained and expressed the
highest opinion of his military genius and of his pure and upright
character. In 1830, when South Carolina threatened nulification, General
Jackson declared to a Virginian gentleman then in Washington, "That if
he had a man like John Lewis to second him, he could go to South
Carolina, hang Calhoun and end nulification within a month and forever."
In 1830, the United States government made a large grant of lands to his
heirs as a further recompense for his military services. It was during
Mrs. Peyton's visit to her home in the Sweet Springs Valley, after her
father's death, that the following letter was written:--
JOHN H. PEYTON TO MRS. PEYTON:
Staunton, June 24th, 1823.
I duly received the letter of my dear wife on the 15th, giving me the
agreeable intelligence that she and Susan had improved in health and
were well. Let me say a word here on the subject of your and her health.
Do not let her habits of life become too delicate. If you will both
continue the practice of taking a cold bath every morning, you will soon
regain your former healthy tone, and Susan become stronger and teethe
easily. Whenever you suffer with heat and need refreshment resort to the
warm bath, not oftener, however, than once a day. Do not allow the nurse
to carry Susan in her arms as much as heretofore; let her place the
child on the floor to there exercise by getting on her own way--"We must
crawl before we can walk." Nothing can supply the want of exercise, it
gives the child confidence and the conversation of the nurse and the
pointing out of objects pleases its fancy and arouses its faculties.
Children that are too much nursed and coddled are apt to be weak and
delicate and are sometimes even deformed by the carelessness of nurses
in keeping them too long in improper positions. We cannot be too
particular with this lovely child in whom we so much delight. The
Masonic procession occurs to-day; it is in honor of John the Baptist.
Dr. Stephens delivers the address [Rev. Dr. Stephens, Rector of Trinity
Church, Staunton,] and the dinner is given at Mrs. Chamber's tavern. I
can only participate in the dinner, as there is a trial of a negro for a
rape committed on a white married woman, which will occupy my attention
throughout the day. Now that he is within the toils of justice, I shall
see that he does not struggle out and make his escape. Such brutal deeds
must meet their just punishment.
Your friend Mrs. Baldwin is much engaged entertaining her brother and
his family, who are on a visit from Winchester. Such spare time as I
have is spent with Johnson and his family, where I am almost domiciled,
[Chapman Johnson the distinguished lawyer.] Johnson's health is much
improved and his spirits are better. He no longer suffers with
depression. He makes many friendly enquiries after you and his
god-daughter, Susan Madison. He goes to the Sweet this summer with his
family and sister-in-law, Agnes Nicholson.
I have directed the servants to make you a supply of currant jelly and
walnut pickles. Sinah has also salted down, for winter use, a quantity
of excellent butter. Is there anything else you would like to have done?
If so, speak--you will not have to speak twice.
On Thursday I commenced my harvest. The wheat is much better than last
year, and than I supposed it would be. The recent rains have improved
the oats and corn, and there is promise of an abundant yield. Our hearts
should be filled with thankfulness for the countless blessings God
showers upon us. Why are we not stimulated to more and greater acts of
beneficence.
My health has improved since I last wrote--my cold is gone, my appetite
good and my spirits buoyant. I do not think I will ever lay aside my
flannel again, certainly not before May is out. Dr. Boys and Gen. Brown
both told me recently that they never removed theirs without taking
cold, and for several years they have worn it all the year round.
I received a letter from Capt. Massie a few days since, from which I am
happy to learn that he is recovering. I hope to meet Woodville soon, on
his way to see his friends in Culpeper. I hear that Aunt McDowell is at
Smithfield with your grandmother Preston, whose health is much impaired.
James M. Preston writes urging me to make them a visit and to fetch you
and Susan along. Ballard is a stirring and promising lad. [afterward Wm.
Ballard Preston, Secretary of the Navy in President Taylor's Cabinet.]
My engagements will not admit of my writing more.--Remember me
affectionately to your mother, to Sister Woodville, to Sarah, Lynn, and
all the children. Kiss Sue for me, and for yourself accept my best
wishes for your health and happiness. Write as often as possible.
Your affectionate husband,
JOHN H. PEYTON.
Note.--Ben was by birth an African chief, and became Mr. Peyton's
favorite man-servant. Captured on the African coast in 1807, he was
brought to Virginia with a cargo of negroes and sold. At the auction Mr.
P., who happened to be on the Lower James river at the time, became his
purchaser. He was then about twelve years old, a strong, athletic boy,
who grew to be 6 feet 2 inches high, and was as black as ink. He was
named Ben Potter, probably after one of his captors. The interpreter
gave an interesting account of Ben, and of the deference and respect
paid him on the voyage by his fellow captives.--The young negro was so
much impressed with the appearance and bearing of Mr. Peyton that he
begged him through the interpreter, to become his purchaser. This he
consented to do and Ben continued his faithful servant through life,
till his (Mr. Peyton's) death in 1847. Ben was soon deeply attached to
his master, was confided in, and trusted by Mr. Peyton and his family.
On leaving home to go the round of the circuit, Mr. Peyton always placed
his wife and children under Ben's protection and never had cause to
regret it. He was sober, industrious and honest--every way worthy of
the trust reposed in him. Thirty odd years later, when Mr. Peyton was
prostrated by paralysis in 1845, his attached servant and friend was
ploughing in a field near the Montgomery Hall Mansion. Hearing cries of
alarm from the family, he abandoned his team and ran to the house, and
elbowing himself into his master's room assisted in ministering to him
till the arrival of the family physician.
From that hour to Mr. Peyton's death in 1847, he slept in his room,
helped to watch over him, administered his medicine, drove him in his
phaeton, when his health admitted of it, and looked after his comfort in
every way, and was never over thirty minutes out of his presence till
Mr. P. died, when he seemed broken-hearted. Mr. Peyton's executor
offered Ben his freedom and a life annuity, which he declined--he
preferred to remain with his old Master's children, and did so until his
death, which occurred about 1855, the aged, trusted Servant sinking into
the grave a sincere Christian, loved and respected by all who knew him,
and with the confident hope that he would meet his old Master and friend
among the Saints above. Among those whose admiration for the character
of this faithful servant led them often to speak of him with pleasure,
was the late Col. John B. Baldwin, who never, while he lived, allowed
Ben, and the history of his good and faithful services, which for
several years came under his observation, to go unmentioned--or
unrewarded.
JOHN H. PEYTON TO MRS. PEYTON.
Warm Springs, Sept. 1st., 1823.
_My Beloved Ann_:
On the day we parted the Judge (Archibald Stuart) and myself arrived
without adventure at General Blackburn's.
On the next day at Colonel Cameron's and on Tuesday at two o'clock
arrived at Huntersville, the seat of Justice of Pocahontas county--a
place as much out of the world as Crim Tartary. Owing to the bad
conditions of the roads we were much fatigued and bore many marks of
travel-stain. The so-called town of Huntersville consists of two
ill-constructed time-worn, (though it is not time which has worn them,)
weather-beaten cabins built of logs and covered with clapboards. My
negro cabins on Jackson's river are palaces in comparison with them.
One of these wretched hovels is the residence of John Bradshaw, the
other is called the Loom-house for these people are self-sustaining.
They spin and weave. The big wheel and the little wheel are birring in
every hut and throwing off the woolen and linen yarn to be worked up for
family purposes. The home-spun cloth, too, is stronger and more durable
than that brought by our merchants from Northern manufacturers.
In Bradshaw's dwelling there is a large fire-place, which occupies one
entire side, the gable end. The chimney is enormous and so short that
the room is filled with light which enters this way. It is an ingenious
contrivance for letting all the warmth escape through the chimney,
whilst most of the smoke is driven back into the chamber. In the
chimney-corner I prepared my legal papers before a roaring fire,
surrounded by rough mountaineers, who were drinking whiskey and as night
advanced, growing riotous. In the back part of the room two beds were
curtained off with horse-blankets--one for the Judge, the other for
myself. To the left of the fire-place stood old Bradshaw's couch. In the
loft, to which they ascended, by means of a ladder, his daughter and
the hired woman slept, and at times of a crowd, a wayfarer. The other
guests were sent to sleep in the Loom-house, in which was suspended in
the loom, a half-woven piece of cloth. Three beds were disposed about
the room, which completed its appointments--one was allotted to Sampson
Matthews, a second to John Baxter, the third to George Mays, and John
Brown. The loom was used as a hat-rack at night and for sitting on, in
the absence of chairs, in the day. As there was not a chair or stool
beyond those used by the weaving women, my clients _roosted_ on the loom
while detailing their troubles and receiving advice.
Bradshaw's table is well supplied. There is profusion, if not
prodigality in the rich, lavish bounty of the goodly tavern. We had no
venison, as this is a shy season with the deer, but excellent mutton
with plenty of apple sauce, peach pie, and roasting ears. As a mark of
deference and respect to the Court, I presume, we had a
table-cloth--they are not often seen on Western tables and when they
are, are not innocent of color--and clean sheets upon our beds. This
matter of the sheets is no small affair in out of the way places, as it
not unfrequently happens that wanderers communicate disease through the
bedclothing. Old Bradshaw's family is scrupulously clean, which is
somewhat remarkable in a region where cleanliness is for the most part
on the outside. A false modesty seems to prevent those salutary
ablutions which are so necessary to health, and I did not commend myself
to the good graces of the hired woman by insisting on my foot-bath every
morning.
We remained five days at Huntersville closely engaged in the business of
the Court, which I found profitable. Pocahontas is a fine grazing
county, and the support of the people is mainly derived from their
flocks of cattle, horses and sheep, which they drive over the mountains
to market. There is little money among them except after these
excursions, but they have little need of it--even want is supplied by
the happy country they possess, and of which they are as fond as the
Swiss of their mountains. It is a pretty country, a country of
diversified and beautiful scenery in which there is a wealth of verdure
and variety which keeps the attention alive and the outward eye
delighted.
On Saturday the Judge and I visited Sandy Lockridge, where we were very
hospitably entertained. His house is every way a respectable dwelling,
with plenty of room and much good furniture. On Saturday we returned to
Col. Cameron's and this evening arrived here in sound health and
excellent spirits, notwithstanding our rough experiences. I was much
disappointed not to find a letter awaiting me from my dear wife. Ben
Crawford has, however, relieved my anxiety, by telling me that he saw
you on Saturday sitting at the front window of your dining-room writing,
and thought he heard the prattle of Susan in the room. I imagine you
were writing to me and hope tomorrow's mail will fetch the coveted
letter.
Your father's will has been recorded in Alleghany county and your
brother William has qualified as sole executor--the sale is to take
place day after tomorrow, but nothing will be sold but the live stock. I
have seen none of our relations or connections since I left home--have
learned these facts from others.
Accept the best wishes of your husband for yourself and our dear little
girl, and believe me,
Yours affectionately,
JOHN H. PEYTON.
LETTER FROM JOHN H. PEYTON TO HIS WIFE.
In 1826, John H. Peyton obtained an appointment as cadet at West Point
for his brother-in-law, John B. Lewis, of the Sweet Springs. As young
Lewis was inexperienced, had never traveled beyond the limits of
Virginia, Mr. Peyton determined to accompany him to the United States
Military Academy, though the journey at that day was long and tedious
and his professional engagements made his absence at any time a matter
of great inconvenience to himself and clients.
The following letter to Mrs. Peyton will be read at this day with
interest and something like astonishment, so great has been our progress
and development within the past sixty-five years--such changes would
hardly have occurred in European countries in centuries. At that day the
old-fashioned stage-coach was still in use, there were few macadamized
roads and no railways. The entire journey, therefore, from Staunton in
Virginia, to West Point, was made in what were called "hacks,"--most of
them rickety and unsafe, and in steamboats no better, and not so safe as
the Tug and Ferry boats of the present and as unlike as possible the
floating palaces of our day. It must be remembered that railroads were
not opened in the United States until 1830, and travel was somewhat in
the unsatisfactory state described by Mr. Pickwick.
"Travel," said Mr. Pickwick, "is in a troubled state, and the minds of
coachmen are unsettled. Stage-coaches are upsetting in all directions,
horses are bolting, boats are overturning and boilers are bursting."
Such was true in no Pickwickian sense in our country in 1826, and the
perils of traveling were increased by the use of high pressure engines
on the boats, and unskillful drivers and bad horses in the coaches.
There was not much improvement in things in Virginia since A. D. 1665,
when Colonel Valentine Peyton, of Nominy, in the county of Westmoreland,
Virginia, thus remarks in his last will and testament [See April number,
1881, of the New England Historical and Genealogical Register] before
leaving home, "_being about to take a voyage to Jamestown and knowing
the life of a man to be uncertain. I doe make this my last will and
testament_." If a man were indifferent to such dangers, there was little
pleasure to be derived from traveling. The taverns were miserable, and
the rural districts almost destitute of the comforts of civilized life.
Excitement there might have been in journeying then, but none of the
pleasant exhilaration which attends a jaunt in a Pullman now-a-days. Mr.
Peyton makes no complaints, though it is obvious from his description of
a half-hour's "nap" on the Baltimore boat, that he had not stumbled upon
a bed of roses.
JOHN H. PEYTON TO HIS WIFE.
New York, June 18th, 1826.
_My Dear Ann_: