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 phæton, 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:
On the 15th at 5 o'clock we left Baltimore on the steamboat for Philadelphia. The view of the city, Fort McHenry, the light-house on North Point, and of the Chesapeake Bay, with its numerous vessels spreading their canvas to the winds just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, was animating and enlivening, majestic and sublime. From the prow of the vessel, I contemplated this interesting scene as long as the light enabled me to enjoy its beauties. Soon after dusk a pealing bell summoned us to the supper table, where we were surprised to find a sumptuous repast spread out. We had not anticipated such variety or delicacy of food. After partaking of the good cheer, we drew lots for our berths. I was unlucky—my berth was so warm, not to say hot and stuffy, that before I could get any sleep our arrival at French town was announced. Turning out at 12 o'clock at night, but with no regrets, we shortly after continued our journey, and at 3 o'clock in the morning, found ourselves at New Castle. Here we re-shipped in a steamboat without berths. This I did not regret after my recent experience of them, and Benjamin and myself essayed to secure a half-hour's sleep stretched upon two pine benches. How long we might have courted sleep on these hard and narrow couches, I know not. We were not left to make the experiment any length of time, but were shortly roused up by the bustle among the seamen and passengers preparatory to landing at Philadelphia. The breakfast table, when we entered the so-called saloon, was smoking with coffee and steak, and about the time we had paid our respects to both, the boat was at Chestnut street wharf. Landing here we proceeded immediately to Campbell's, and it was a glad surprise to find him astir, thanks to the business habits of the city of brotherly love.
Under his guidance, after another cup of coffee and a hot roll, we proceeded to attend to the numerous commissions with which we were charged. This occupied us something over four hours, when we bade our friends adieu and went aboard the New York steamer. About 6 o'clock p. m. we reached Princeton, where I spent four of the happiest years of my youth, and which I had not seen since taking my degree in 1797. The stages were running with such rapidity, however, that it was impossible to call, as I wished, upon my old friends, Dr. Alexander and Prof. Comfort, or deliver the letter for Miss Waddell, but I chanced to meet a young gentleman of my acquaintance from Washington, who stopped at Princeton, by whom I sent it to her.
I shall make it a point to stay over a day at Princeton on my return. In due time we arrived here. Benjamin is perfectly well, does not regard either the fatigues or loss of sleep, but I am worse for the wear and tear. And I would not advise those to take the trip whose only business is pleasure.
On yesterday I dined with Mr. Gallagher, where I met Mr. Reid, who, you may remember, preached some time since at the Presbytery in Staunton. He is to preach in New York to-day, and I hope to hear him. He is highly esteemed here as a preacher and man. In the evening I took tea with Mrs. Murray, mother of my brother Rowze's wife, where all the family were collected round me making enquiries after their relatives and friends in Virginia. For the most part I was unable to gratify their curiosity, having recently neither seen nor heard of the kith and kin in Richmond or the Northern Neck.
At 10 o'clock tomorrow I shall set out for West Point with Gen. Huston, of Tennessee, to whom I was introduced on yesterday by Gen. Scott. [Gen. Winfield Scott.] I requested Miss Heiskell of Philadelphia, to execute Jane and Lynn's commissions, which she promised to do against my return.
Give my love to all the family,
Yours affectionately, though in much haste,
John H. Peyton.