456 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[2nd s, ifo 101., Dec. 5. '57. 



scrupulous adherence to truth ;" words of fathom- 

 able meaning. When I was a boy I asked for the 

 work at a circulating library in the country, and 

 the librarian, with a smile, assured me that the 

 author had a very low character for truth, on 

 which I chose another book. On examining the 

 contents, I find that there is no reason to assume 

 any amount of invention : but there is very good 

 reason why a suspicion of exaggeration and flour- 

 ish should be insisted on to render other dis- 

 couragements unnecessary. I have no doubt the 

 librarian above-mentioned did not care whether I 

 read true or false travels, but thought this a bet- 

 ter mode of dissuasion than telling me the book 

 was not fit for a boy to read. The work is nomi- 

 nally a series of letters addressed to a son who 

 was not fourteen years old when they were pub- 

 lished : but the writer quite forgets his son, and 

 speaks to the world at large. It is plain enou^ 

 that the letters were not letters separately written 

 off and sent, but chapters consecutively composed 

 and at hand for reference. The address to a 

 young son is therefore only a disgusting piece of 

 forgetfulness. But what is more strange is that 

 his wife was alive when he published these letters 

 containing the scrape into which he got with his 

 host's wife at Aleppo, his attempt to induce a 

 young English lady to go with him as her sole 

 protector from Zante to India ; and so forth. It 

 IS true that, according to his own account, all 

 these amours were arrested by circumstances at a 

 point short of criminality : but the only question 

 which arises is whether Capt. Campbell did not 

 tell less than the truth instead of more. But as 

 his widow, who survived him, entertained the 

 most tender regard for his memoiy, we may hope 

 the best, or at least be satisfied with the legal 

 condonation which ensued. 



The journey through Europe is certainly not 

 marked by any stretches of invention : the author 

 has a richly informed mind, and is to all appear- 

 ance both a scholar and a gentleman. His satiri- 

 cal remarks upon the Roman bishops and clergy 

 are full of reflection : I mean, they are made in a 

 manner which glances off homewards. This would 

 procure him no favour in 1796 : in truth, had he 

 been politically as averse to our institutions as 

 theologically — though that is hardly the word — 

 to our hierarchy, he might have had a chance of 

 the Attorney- General picking a quarrel with him. 

 But he is a stanch friend of the constitution. 

 His voyage from Aleppo through Diarbekir, Mo- 

 sul, Bagdad, Bassora, is not marked by any won- 

 ders. His shipwreck and capture by Hyder's 

 governor, the treatment which he received as a 

 prisoner, and the attempts made to enlist him in 

 the Sultan's service, he having formerly been in 

 the service of the Nizam, are all credible. His 

 negociation, as a prisoner, with the Jelnadar 



Hyat Sahib at Bidanore, by which the fort and its 

 dependencies were delivered up to General Ma- 

 thews, are attested both by General Mathews and 

 by Lord Macartney. Nor do the efforts which 

 he made to induce the government to keep the 

 terms which he made with Hyat Sahib at all 

 detract from his character for truth. To the rea- 

 sons given above, I suspect we must add the 

 foUowmg : — Fifty years ago there was much dis- 

 position to assume that a lively narrative must 

 be a romance : a voyager who traveiled out of 

 latitude, longitude, and dinner was supposed to be 

 at least verging upon the poetical. Capt. Campbell 

 is a narrator of no common power. The story of 

 his voyage from Aleppo to Bassora, disguised as 

 the slave of a Tartar who carried dispatches, is 

 one of the most spirited narratives I ever read. 

 A few extracts, even though of some length, will 

 be read with interest, fie made an agreement 

 with tliis Hassan Artaz that they should change 

 horses whenever he pleased, and that he should re- 

 gulate the speed, though appearing at all the rest- 

 ing-places as a Frank slave. The Tartar, who was 

 a man of humour, used to throw him the best food 

 under pretence of disliking it, and to make true 

 believers wash his feet, merely, as he said, to show 

 his power (these couriers being all powerfid on 

 the road), in a manner which Campbell could not 

 help laughing at. This the Tartar resented, with 

 reason, as exposing them to suspicion, as follows : 



" 'Surely God made laughter for the derision and shame 

 of mankind, and gave it to the Franks and the monkies ; 

 for the one ha, ha, ha's, and the other lie, lie, he's, and 

 both are malicious, mischievous, and good for nothing 

 but to fret and tantalise all that come across them. Not 

 but that, with all their laughter, they have the wisdom 

 to take special care of themselves ; for half a dozen mon- 

 kies will he, he, he, and empty a whole orchard of its 

 fruit in the reckoning of a hundred ; and a Frank will 

 ha, ha, ha, and eat you up pillaws and poultrj' like a 

 wolf, and drink up wine with the same moderation that a 

 canal drinks up water. But with all their he, he, he's, 

 and ha, ha, ha's, it sometimes turns out that they are 

 caught : the monkey is seized in a trap, and caged or 

 knocked on the head, and the Frank is put in jail, and 

 bastinadoed or hanged, and the tune is changed, and it is 

 ho, ho, ho 1 ' Here he began to mimic crying so admira- 

 bly, that I burst out laughing again. * Observe, Jimmel,' 

 said he, hastily, ' observe ! you can't refrain ! But by our 

 holy prophet,' said he seriously, ' it may end as I said : 

 so look to yourself and avoid laughter in caravanseras, 

 or we part; for there are places, and that was one of 

 them last night, where suspicion would ruin you. And 

 if you lost j'our life, what should I say for myself on my 

 return to Aleppo? Eh, what should I say for myself? 

 Ha, ha, ha, would not do ! No, no, they would not believe 

 it, and I should lose my character.' " 



Walter Scott wels not likely to miss reading a 

 book by the head of a branch of Campbells, espe- 

 cially if it were reputed to savour of the marvel- 

 lous. Let those who remember the Talisman, 

 and the ride which the Hakim gave the Knight of 



