COL. HENRY PEYTON—A HERO OF 1776.

interesting letter from jefferson to c. peyton, of albemarle.

We publish below an interesting letter written by the illustrious Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence, to his connection, the late Craven Peyton, Esq., of Monteagle, Albemarle county, Va. Craven Peyton was one of the first gentlemen of his day in Virginia, but his tastes were social and literary rather than political, and he passed a long and useful life in the quiet of his plantation, loved and admired by all who enjoyed the privilege of his friendship and partook of the elegant hospitalities of his old Virginia home—one of the stately mansions and most extensive landed estates in Virginia. He married Miss Lewis, a niece of the President, and left among other issue a son, Charles L. Peyton, of Greenbrier, now surviving at an advanced age, and a daughter who married an esteemed townsman, William C. Eskridge, Esq., the father of William Peyton Eskridge, of this city. Craven Peyton was a nephew of the Revolutionary patriot, Colonel Henry Peyton, whose third and last son, old enough for military duty, was killed by a cannon ball from the British fleet during the siege of Charleston, S. C. He fell into the arms of the late Lieut., afterwards Gen. Porterfield, of Augusta, who immediately communicated the sad intelligence of his death to his father. Col. Peyton, when he heard of it, was struck dumb with grief, but in a moment recovering his equilibrium and self-control, exclaimed, "Would to God I had another to put in his place." Such was the stuff of our Revolutionary heroes. Col. Henry Peyton was the father of Miss Fanny Peyton, wife of Chancellor Brown, and great-grandfather of the late distinguished and still lamented Col. John B. Baldwin and Mrs. Alexander H. H. Stuart:[30]

Monticello, August 12, 1821.

Dear Sir—Instead of answering your letter yesterday, I desired the bearer to tell you I should see you at Monteagle to-day, being anxious, also, to see my sister before I set out for Bedford, whom you mention to be still unwell. I accordingly mounted my horse just now to visit you, but found him so lame I was obliged to turn back. With respect to the fodder I had, on Mr. Bacon's suggestion, searched for and found the account of it, which he had given me, at the time and I had forgotten; that, therefore, is right and there can be no difficulty between us. I have not yet learned from Mr. Estor Randolph when he will be able to make me payment. The moment he does I will transmit to you. I have not yet urged him, because I know he is a most anxious man always to pay a debt and that he will soon inform me. With respect to ——, if he ever becomes a sober man, there will be no difficulty of reconciliation on Anne's account, but as long as he is subject to drink, his society is dangerous and we shall reject it.

I shall be glad to know the exact state of my sister's health; and pray, if she needs it, that Dr. Watkins may be requested to attend to her, and to place it on my account. I shall not stay more than a week in Bedford.

Affectionately yours, Craven Peyton, Esq. Th. Jefferson.

OLD LETTER OF COL. JOHN L. PEYTON.

to his uncle, maj. t. preston lewis.

Shirley, near Staunton, Feb'y 28th, 1858.

Dear Uncle:

I was much gratified to get your letter, brief as it was, a few days since, and was surprised to hear that you had been so long and so seriously indisposed. I hope by this time you have entirely recovered, and if not, I must renew my suggestion and invitation to you again. My suggestion that you ought to leave Washington for a time, and my invitation that you should pass that time in the fresh air and quiet comforts of my house at Shirley. By coming and staying a month or two with me you might be permanently improved in health, and it would not, as you seem to apprehend, increase your expenses, or cut off your salary in Washington. Gov. Floyd, under the circumstances of the case would not hesitate to grant you a furlough. The pleasure I would enjoy from your society would be very great, and my wife asks me to assure you that nothing would give her more pleasure than to have you come.

The weather here is charming, and spring-like, which is something unusual at this season, but is what we expected after the vile "spell" we have had for the past five weeks.

Staunton has been quite up in the books this winter between lectures, concerts, auctions, exhibitions and other pastimes and amusements.

Among the eminent strangers we have had lecture here, was George D. Prentice, of the "Louisville Journal." I did not hear his lecture, but dined with him one day while here at Judge J. H. McCue's, and confess I was not much impressed which is still further evidence of the soundness of the opinion I formed when travelling west in 1848, namely: The farther I went west the more convinced I was that the wise men came from the East.

Few persons left here for Richmond on the 22nd, and those who did were so worried by the great crowd that they saw little, and enjoyed what they saw, less.

Everett's[31] oration surpassed any anticipations I had formed of it, while Hunter's fell far below the public expectation. What can compensate a man for falling below the public estimate on such an occasion! It almost drives a man to believe every effort a mockery—and that he is apt to reap by his efforts not fame, but despair.

Crawford's statue of Washington is said to be the finest specimen of the kind extant, by the side of which that hobby-horse concern, Mill's Statue of President Jackson, in Washington is a miserable failure. The "horse" of Crawford is agreed to be above praise, while that of "Mills," in front of the President's house is said to be a ewe-necked tacky, a mealy-mouthed, wall-eyed brute, who looks as if old Jackson, in the language of a Tennessee poet:

"Had placed on him a bridle and a saddle, Then on his back had leapt astraddle."

and had been ever since fastened there by iron rods, which are said to run up the horse's hind legs, keeping him on an equipoise, and forever facing the White House.

Among those who were attracted to Richmond was Howe, but what, (if any) impressions were made on his mind, is not known, as he has since observed a severe silence.

I was not surprised to learn of the rage for fashion and extravagance in Washington. It is always so with the parvenues, whether in Washington or on 5th Avenue. The "new-rich" have no other way of bringing themselves into notice and contempt. They constitute a beastly crew, who change their principles much oftener than their linen. I cordially participate in your feelings of disgust for such a gang.

Betty joins me in affectionate salutations. Hoping to hear from you soon, I am dear Uncle, as ever,

Your affectionate nephew

John Lewis Peyton.

Thos. P. Lewis, Esq.,} War Department, } Washington, D. C. }

LETTER OF COL. JOHN LEWIS PEYTON.

a disputed poem—proof that the earl of derby did not write the poem to general lee.

Staunton, Va., December 3, 1877.

To the Baltimore Gazette:

In your paper of the 30th of November you introduce the following lines, with the remark, "On the fly-leaf of the copy of the Iliad given by the late Earl of Derby to General Robert E Lee were the following verses:"

The grave old bard, who never dies, Receive him in our native tongue; I send thee, but with weeping eyes, The story that he sung. Thy Troy has fallen—thy dear land Is marred beneath the spoiler's heel; I cannot trust my trembling hand To write the grief I feel. Oh, home of tears! But let her bear This blazon to the end of time; No nation rose so white and fair, None fell so pure of crime. The widow's moan, the orphan's wail, Are round thee; but in truth be strong; Eternal right, though all things fail, Can never be made wrong. An angel's heart, an angel's mouth, (Not Homer's) could alone for me Hymn forth the great Confederate South; Virginia first—then Lee.

Permit me to say that you are in error in attributing these lines to the late Earl of Derby. Lord Derby was an eminent statesman, as well as distinguished scholar, and during the whole period of the civil war in our country was the leader of the opposition, or Tory party in the British Parliament. Never during this time did he criticise adversely the policy of Lord Palmerston in refusing recognition to the Confederate government. So far from it, he distinctly and repeatedly announced his concurrence in the course of the British cabinet. Had he been at the head of her majesty's government at that period I am satisfied that he would have adhered strictly to the policy of Palmerston and Gladstone in this particular. This was his firm position, though urged to use his influence to secure Confederate recognition by many influential gentlemen of the Tory party, among them Sir Seymour Fitzgerald, the present governor of Bombay; Mr. Beresford Hope, M. P.; Mr. Gregory, M. P. for Galway, and others not so well known in this country.

Such was Lord Derby's anxiety to relieve the distress arising from the cotton famine in Lancashire, lest it might lead to popular agitation in favor of a recognition of the Southern States, that he made a single subscription to the relief fund of £5,000. Not only in this case, but in many others throughout the war, he showed himself anything else than what was styled in those days in England "a friend and sympathizer with the South."

It is not at all likely, then, that his lordship would, whatever his admiration of the character and military genius of General Lee, have addressed him the foregoing lines, nor is it true. The lines were written by a young and gifted English poet, now no more, Philip Stanhope Worsely. Mr. W. was a scholar of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and died about ten years since. He gave the world in 1861 a translation of the Odyssey in the Gregorian stanza—one of the most pleasing hitherto produced—and in 1865 published a translation of the Iliad in the Spenserian stanza. A copy of this latter work he sent to General Lee, with a little poem of presentation written on the fly-leaf. It was seen by the General's friends, who requested a transcript of the verses for publication, but he would never permit them to be printed, his native modesty shrinking from the warm panegyric they embodied. Now that both poet and soldier have passed away there is no good reason why they should be withheld from the public eye, and I must express my gratification at seeing them in The Gazette. At the same time it is due to the memories of both that the error into which you have unconsciously fallen should be corrected, and this is the sole motive with which I have addressed you this brief and hasty note.

J. Lewis Peyton.