[Letter from Andrew D. Campbell to Elizabeth Upshur Teackle, July 25, 1813]

Glasgow the 25^th July 1813

My very dear friend, Mrs. Teackle, very probably received this by the same conveyance with another letter written about a fortnight ago to be delivered, or at least forwarded to you, for there is, I fear, little chance of your meeting, by no less a personage than my intimate and particular friend Mr. Francis Jeffrey of the Edinburgh review who happens in some points and places to be as vulnerable as other mere mortal men. Who would suppose that a person whose mind is so full of science and whose disposition, if it is to be judged by his writings, is of so satirical and caustic a nature, could possibly fall in love, and that too love of so desperate a species as evidences his running the numerous risques attendant, upon a British subject going to America while war impatiently rages between our countries. Yet true it is, and of a Verity that a Miss Wilkes of New York, a descendant of our Patriot or demagogue of that name did so overpour his heart, all unsusceptible as you may have supposed it to be, when she was here traveling with a family of the name of Simon, and as she dares not alone continue to cross the Atlantic. He is resolved upon going there, and by making her his Wife and a British Subject at the same time, causing his home to be numbered in the front row of Blue Stockings¹ in Edinburgh. In nothing doubting, but she will place superior to the Hamiltons. Tho Edgeworth says even to the Madame de Stael, who is here a Star of the first magnitude in this our Northern Hemisphere during the next winter.

Teackle knew Jeffrey a little and I do much wish that your occasional excursions to Philadelphia may lead you there during his short abode. You will be quite delighted with him. His information so wonderfully

extensive, his manner of communicating it so very agreeable, and above all, he is so good hearted and so warm hearted that you would quite like him. Besides, as I have given him a hint of your abilities, who knows but he may be anxious to enlist you in the Corps Critique and then you may laud your friends and favorites, and cut up without mercy all those who are deficient in moral or in ability, to say nothing of the opportunity given of writing your own essay while ostensibly you are reassuring that of another whose time you much approved of Jeffreys conduct in calling our fav’rite Moore to an account upon the ground of his writings being too much impassioned and in so far as my Memory serves me, the spirit of the Review has not been hostile to America or Americans. Tis true they have not afforded much scope for censure or applause as few works of eminence have yet issued from your press, but all will be coming in good time, tho very probably neither during your or my existence. Whenever I heard of Jeffrey’s intention, I wrote instantly a few lines to you and also having learned from your last letter that your dear little Girl was to be some time in Philadelphia with Mrs. Bancker, I immediately also wrote to her and enclosed both to Jeffrey telling him that he would never be forgiven if he was in Philadelphia tho’ but for a day and did not call upon Mrs. B, to see your daughter and to be prepared upon his return home to answer to me all questions which I might think proper to put to him that I might ascertain how far you have been informing me of her Value and accomplishments as they exist, or as seen thro’ the Medium of a Mothers or of a Criticks eye. Nor need you be alarmed for his

report, as I can assure you he is one of the mildest of men and neither looks for or expects perfection. Should you by good fortune happen to meet him, he will give you all particulars of your friend and family which you may wish to inquire. I am grieved to tell you that in September last my dear mother was struck with a paralytic affection which deprived her of the use of her left side and we very much feared would have terminated her mortal career, but thank God, she has much recovered and greatly regained the use of her left limb and arm, altho’ we are under frequent apprehension of a recurrence. She often inquires for Littleton, and for you, and for your daughter and recollects my having told her that you might in benign mercy and compassion to my miserable Bachelor state, allow me to have her in my old age to nurse my rheumatic pains and to still my wayward and fretful humours, and inquire when I intend following my friend Jeffrey as she considers my marrying this side of the Water, as almost hopeless. I defend myself by pleading my Brothers example, that it would be quite incorrect to take precedence of him, but so soon as he becomes Benedict, I will then begin to look about here or return to America where, certainly, I was first taught to Love. But then, like many other women of my fancy, have not, I fear, any very great prospect of being realized, and yet [can acct], I do not know why they should not. War is not to continue for ever betwixt us and I may not always be compelled to attend to business altho’, in truth, I am too careless of money and the extravagant to lay aside much to permit my going exactly where I

I would wish to go. Your feelings and your observations upon the subject of peace and of war, you see much pleasure and my thoughts are in perfect unison with yours. But how dared you to write in the bold free style you did?

Tis time you had these trifling circumstances called "facts." Or as Cobbett calls them “stubborn facts” to support, and have you not if your letter had passed a post office ordeal. But what would those Mighty in your land have said to criticism so severe, and so dually sense because true.

Could your Government have foreseen the utter destruction of the French Armies in Prussia with all its attendant consequences. This whole force almost entirely driven out of Spain and Portugal, and these nations, resuming their wanted spirit, animated by British assistance their policy would be very different.

It rejoices me that you, and I am sure you agree to the sentiments of your husband and most of my friends, view their conduct in its proper light, for altho’ you had viewed it differently it would not have made the slightest change in the very sincere regard which I have long felt for yourself, and sometimes, as I well know political biases slants the eyes of many, yet to find we are agreed upon this important, though most unpleasant subject, adds to the ideas which experience confers of Your discrimination and of your candour in acknowledging [can], altho’ those of your Countrymen and all the writing to our enemy. God knows one only in political name and meaning. While you reproached

your government for their very inefficient mode of connecting their warlike operations by land. I admire your delicacy in not balancing these disasters by the success of your Arms at sea. This you thought a point too tender to touch upon with me, and indeed it did vex me very much. You will not suppose that I consider your countrymen less able or less willing to support the honor of their flag than mine, but it did grieve me that my Countrymen with experience so much superior to yours in Naval tactics, should have been so constantly overcome, even by inferior force of ships of guns and of men. The lessons given us may, however, do us much good. We were too confident of superiority, too proud to our equals, too haughty to our inferiors. The tide of Military Inf and of Naval events have begun to turn, and it is probable they may continue alternately successful until your Government, which drew their sword, see it prudent to sheathe it. And I must agree with Prince Regent that deeply as the continuance of the war is to be regretted, and ardent as the desire is to be again upon a friendly footing, so much for the interests of each, yet this nations men must submit to any sacrifice of the Maritime rights of the Empire, which have raised it to its present eminence, to purchase peace with any nation. You and I will not discuss these rights.

We will continue in peace and amity and in this interchange of those sentiments of mutual regard, which have so long existed and which from our different lots in life is all that is permitted, and when the arms of either

country are imminently successful, neither of us will rejoice with unmixed pleasure knowing that feelings of regret must give vexation and disappointment to the minds and hearts of the other.

Your description of this awful rable State of Baltimore is truly melancholy and freely remanded aim of Moore’s epistle to Lord Forbes, indeed the epistle was in fact an anticipated description. Such a state of lawless anarchy is much to be lamented and the undisciplined inhabitants of that place are very much to be pitied. If attended with good effects, which you seem to think have followed and may increase, of bringing your countrymen round to a new sense of the superior advantages of federalism and promote harmony and unanimity, we will not quarrel with their outrageous behavior. Also, I heard at one time thoughts of establishing himself in Baltimore, but of this I have not heard anything for a long time. Does any such intention still continue and what is become of Nancy Smith and Mrs. Gilmor? You have not mentioned them lately, and you know the former was always a great favorite of mine. Surely her husband, Mr. Donnell, must ‘ere this have attained much polish and softness from so long a friend on the society of one so mild, gentle, and refined. Her family will all be growing up and as your Country women all marry when very young. I suppose if ever I get back to America, I

must carry pocketfuls of sugar plums to render myself agreeable not to the children, but to the Grand Children of my friends and companions of gr and gg. Your saying that you had been in Baltimore with Mr. John Eyre and not mentioning other Ladies has led me to this inquiry, and you too my dear Friend have been unwell and were there on your return from the Springs of Pennsylvania, and my illness, with the thought of its running me to another world have thrown you into tears while writing. I must not say all that I have felt while reading your letter and thinking of you, but my heart has been very full. Morning has been very busy and in the silent solitude of my peaceful abode, an evening of peculiar stillness. Sunday, I have retraced many of these moments which gave so much delight when passing and which offered so much pure pleasure on reflection. You ask what claim you have on my regard, and every line of your letter answers this question.

When first I had the pleasure of meeting with you, did I not find your heart open as I say? Has it not continued so ever since. Yourself and your sister took a warm interest in me while I was detached from all friends and relations. From many I experienced kind hospitality, but from yourself, from Littleton, from poor Stratton, I received warm friendship. Then I valued it highly and an extended knowledge of the world. An acquaintance with many, and intimacy with not a few, has increased it to all, but particularly

to you for with you it has principally continued, to say nothing of some saucy allusions which your sister made the last time I was at Church Neck, of my being more infatuated with the gay and the flippant, than the grave and the philosophical. I cannot help taking much credit to myself for my discernment. The solid philosopher has almost forgotten me and if I am to believe my friend, Mrs. Col^l Hamilton has become quite the gay and the dashing Lady, while in you, my friend, I have known no change and now I do not fear any. Nor will I now allow any claim of the health of either to cloud the future. Your constitution never appeared very strong, but it is not the most fragile that are overthrown, and often the sickly plant becomes the sturdiest tree. To preserve our spirits under the pressure of illness is almost impossible. Tis enough to retain sufficient to present any additional load upon the weakness of the body, but to have suffered for years and now make more than distant allusions when writing to me, was not kind. You only let me know it when you are recovered, and I thank God that you are recovered, but if sickness should again attack you do not keep me in ignorance of it, as I will fear that you consider me merely the friend of health and of prosperity. Tis true, I can say little and cannot do any thing to alleviate any of these calamities to which our frail existence is subject, but if the

sincere participation of one deeply interested in every event of your life can ameliorate any misfortune and surely it can do so all your ills be much softened.

I too have suffered long and with much severe pain, but soon after receiving your letter which, altho’ dated in November, did not arrive until February. I resolved upon leaving home, business, and all possible cares and endeavours by travelling, amusement and the Cheltenham Springs to recover my former healthy state. A friend of mine, lately married, his young wife and myself set off for London and passed thro’ several of the principal places in England upon our route. Thus I found myself so much better as to be able to take a share in the pleasures and gaieties with which it abounds, and having increased our party by the addition of a sister of my friend and my Brother, we left it to make an excursion to Portsmouth and the beautiful little Isle of Wight. At Portsmouth we saw the Dockyard with all its immense establishment and preparations for war. Went on board the Victory of 110 Guns, which you will recollect to be the ship on board of which our Gallant Nelson conquered and fell in a blaze of Victory and of Glory to which no other man ever reached. The Isle of Wight has been so celebrated for beautiful and [xxxnstic] scenery

that its fame must have reached you. We explored and admired it all and returning by a different route to London, terminated one of the most agreeable trips I ever was upon. From thence I went to Cheltenham, one of our most agreeable watering places, the waters of which has been strongly recommended to me, and they have restored me to all my wonted health and Vigour and as you told me you are better than you have been for years. I am very hopeful that each of us have received our leases of life, and are again beginning with fresh spirits to perform its duties and enjoy its pleasures.

Should however such an event as must occur to us all be my lot while you exist, you will not fail to receive a remembrance of your friend, and melancholy as the thought and the request is, you will not omit leaving to me a few lines which flowing as all yours do, and of another heart may contain some wish which it may be in my power to accomplish.

I feel reluctant to pursue this subject, and yet my mind is so much occupied that I cannot change it. The night is getting late and in place of endeavoring to break the thread of pleasing melancholy ideas which crowd upon me or of putting them upon paper, I will say good night and commend you to my God.

Monday evening.

The business of the day is over. I have been to dine half a dozen miles in the country, and there learned that my Sister, Mrs. Muirhead, has been safely delivered of a Boy which gives much happiness to all her friends to any one of whom she is very dear. She was long married without having any family and this is her second child.

Altho’ it is rather late yet I must endeavour to get this sent off by tomorrow. Least as the sailing of the Castel is very near at hand. I would be very sorry to miss the opportunity, it being doubtful when another may occur. And I have about ten thousand things to say before I can think of closing this. How much you flatter me with your proposed tour of the lakes, and how very fortunate it happens that your thoughts of this best made corresponds so exactly with mine. Would to Heaven you were here now for I know all of the most stylistick gigs and one of the handsomest and best horses for such an excursion. And if Salmagundi had not quizzed all London to travelling, I would cause my present ride a leader, as our hills are rather too much for one horse. But upon the mode we would not differ. My Brother and two of my Sisters with two friends of theirs have returned nothing [an hair] from Loch Catherine and they were very happy.

Althou a large party and in full style, but were you here, I would be quite jealous of allowing any one to interfere with me in sharing you the beauties of the County and the one horse shay is the only mode by which I could get you to myself. As for Littleton he is a sad bar² to be sure, but although (will you believe it?) I have almost entirely left off flirting, yet there are two or three young Ladies with whom I sometimes indulge a little, he shall have my greatest fav’ourite, which he will only consider my fair exchange. Nor will we confine our excursions to Loch Catherine. There are many other places in our neighborhood worthy the admiration of travelers. And perhaps in many, many we shall extend our excursion to [Rokeby] which I visited when last in England with my friends and found very beautiful, altho’ totally different from the grandeur of the Trossachs. This last work of Scott’s is much decried here, but I think without cause as it contains many very fine passages and nothing materially different from the style of all Scott’s former publications. You have greatly excited my curiosity to see your review of the Lady of the Lake which certainly is the most superior of his works, and I hope an early opportunity may be found of your getting it first to see. If you could get it conveyed to Jeffrey and seen, he would take great care of it. Nothing gives me so much pleasure as the Phantasmic offerings of an

finest of our Oracles informed mind implying natural feeling undistracted by formality as the desire of dazzling.

But my friend, how came you to burst so suddenly upon me, as your last letter did with such a display of poetic talent, which you have been keeping so long concealed? And how am I to thank you for the very elegant and flattering Acrostic? I have quite entertained and delighted never recollecting your ever making an attempt until I read your Hymn to the all alluring deity. That I should admire it, you will not consider any great compliment as anything which you write will always give me pleasure, but I have read it to several, and some of them not a little fastidious, and it has met with constant approbation. There is so much information shown and combined with so much spirit, beauty, and pathos, that I can hardly believe it a first production, and almost, from your account, a solitary one. There must since have preceded, and if many have not followed, you deserve to be punished for not exerting properly those faculties of which you are possessed. Of the Acrostic document of each further than to say that it is not lingering regard which surrounded by my friends, here, remains for you. It is one piece, warm and affectionate, as first animated me when I knew you sufficiently to be able justly to appreciate

your value. The Visions of our Youth are not vanished, but embodied into the friendship of riper years and neither the intervention of time or space will be allowed to cast the slightest chill. I often reflect upon some of the trifling occurrences of our early acquaintances and among others do you remember the “rich scene" at Eyres when the Coche bag was opened, and my first epistle to yourself discussed there, and read aloud for the amusement of Eyre Hall. Never was poor Mortal in a more awkward predicament. Yet finally it was owing to some circumstances of apparently a little importance which first taught us to know each other. The compliments which you have been pleased to pay me I receive as I know they were intended, but my dear friend, I dare now shew them to anyone, as they would think you quite spoil me, and being already possessed of quite sufficient sauciness, I do not wish you to be supposed producing any increased proportion. Therefore, the Acrostic lies in my Secretary in a snug little drawer of its own, and whenever I wish to indulge my vanity (which is very often) I peruse it. Before leaving this poetical discussion, I would have wanted to give you my opinion fully upon Childe Harold,³ Lord Byron’s last poetical production. Excepting the Paeion, but I have not time more could I do it sufficient justice, altho’ you do not mention

yet I think you must have seen the Book, if not, pray do not lose time in getting and in reading it.

Dismal as his views are, even to vices and thinking there is much in them, which gives me very great pleasure. You rightly observe, a pen so strong as his ought to be more employed in the science of virtue, but unfortunately, his life has been different. The Childe Harold and Lord B. are one. His cause of dissipation continues. You may have heard of one of our most dissipated Women of quality Lady Oxford. It is said that she and Lord Byron are going together to Sicily and accompanied by Lord Oxford. Nor is Lord B this lady’s first favorite. Her Graces you can not have yet seen. It consists of not a few pages, but there is some very fine description in them. If I find this can be delayed tomorrow, I will copy one or two passages, but I am writing almost against time, which perhaps you may think a fortunate occurrence as there would not be any and to the what about of this letter for her, and I gone though Lord knows how many pages, and have hardly yet said a word respecting the little Eliza. If she bears any resemblance to what you were little further advanced than she is now, the [epiltul] battle could not be appropriate. You described her looks, her dark eyes, her cherry lips, and hair that was to be black, but you have not described her person

whether tall &c &c like yourself or of the Sally Handy make. Now this is of so much importance, I cannot understand your missing it, and if Jeffrey has not the good fortune of seeing her, I must trust to your giving me an accurate account, and in the mean time, I view her in my mind’s eye resembling yourself in figure. Her dark eyes and hair being of course to her Father. At her age you need not regret timidity or Bashfulness. She is now 12 years old and there is a period at which I have frequently noticed young Ladies are more puzzled how to conduct themselves than at any other. They are too big as Children, to little or rather too young for Ladies, and much of their future manner and habits depend upon a year or two at that time of life. Mrs. Bancker, having so long stood high in your estimation, is, I make no doubt, fully competent to the important charge, but I shall not be sorry to hear her being prevented leaving yourself until she is 15, which is quite sufficiently early for her going to Philadelphia to compleat all those branches of Education into which you can initiate her, and receiving that Polished female which nothing but mixing often with eloquent Society

can give.

Her wont of confidence in herself you must conquer, and probably this might be best done by a companion of her own years living with her. If she has been accustomed to be exclusively with yourself, it is natural for a young mind to perceive and to feel the very great distance betwixt what she is learning and what she perceives her teacher possesses and fearing men to arrive at that pitch produces despondence, which emulation and outstripping unequal in age insures spirit and perseverance. Do you laugh at my giving lessons on this subject? We have an old saying that Bachelors, wives, and Maid’s Bairns are always to be perfection itself until experience has taught them the reverse. But I do feel interested so much in your Elizabeth that you will excuse me. You have much cause to be grateful to Heaven that her temper is so sweet, mild, and affectionate, for these qualities do not run in the blood like wooden legs in a family, and be at much pains to preserve it, and to prevent any transference of filial affection to any other person — even Mrs. Bancker. I cannot endure Mother’s amusing themselves or dissipating their time removed from their family and having their children to find attention and

affection from others, than being surprised that they are not cared for in time. To improve her in dancing and in music a little is highly proper, but for God’s sakes don’t make her a prodigy of learning or of any thing. The rage here has been to cram such a quantity of every branch of learning into young Ladies of late, that I feel quite horrified at the thoughts of meeting with a thorough bred London Boarding School Miss, and recommend your laying your hands upon a new comedy entitled education⁴ which I saw when last in London, and was not a little amused with the Heroine who is quite “Aufait of Astronomy, Geography, Botany, Chronology, Physiology, and all of the other ologies.” Our merchants here send their Girls to town at an expense of £3 or £400 st[erlin]g a year for no purpose which I can discern, but to render them useless as wives to any man who has not as many thousands a year. Some of them however, by some good chance, do contin[ue] not to get sported, noticeably Londoners, all the pains taken upon them, and for these few, I have a very particular respect. Pray do therefore avoid attempting to make her all accomplished as it falls to the lot of the few to get well thro’ so serious an ordeal. Do not fail when next

you do me the pleasure of writing to me to give me a continued detail of her progress in the world whether with yourself or in Philadelphia, and I hope you never forget to give her my kindest and my best regards.

Does none of your Brothers in law intend following Littleton’s example and taking a run to this country when the state of affairs permit? I meet with people occasionally, tho not often, from different parts of America, but never coming from the Eastern Shore. In London, I frequently saw my old friends Col. and Mrs. Hamilton and learned a good deal of my Norfolk acquaintances. Mrs. H told me of your sister having been a good deal there some years back. If Eyre goes to Congress, Mrs. E will be dashing in Washington city, which I should think much preferable to the Norfolk circle as it is much changed since I was there. Tell her that I often think of her and bid her master my respects to her Husband. Am truly sorry to hear Mrs. Lyon has not been left so comfortable as I had hoped she had been, the Doctor having been a very economical man. To her also, when an opportunity occurs, I pray

you remember me.

You must have great pleasure in seeing all your uncles family turn out so well, and I am very much obliged by your kind attention in thinking the fair Juliet would suit me. I recollect her well and thought very highly of her when in Virginia, but if you tantalize me thus by telling me at once time that I may hope for Eliza and at another time for Miss Juliet, you will just be playing this game which I have been doing all my life and now that I am beginning to think it a foolish one, you wish me to play it over again. Ah! My friend is this your way of treating me now? You think I may do as you did - pick and choose out of 15 or 20, I forget which number you had upon your list at once. But matters are very different, as neither Ladies or Gentlemen remain for long unbuckled on your side the water. I suppose you next will tell me of Miss Juliet’s marriage, and by the time that I had quite ascertained the folly of being single, I think I shall hear of

of Elizabeth. Well surely if ever I do get to your country, I must expect long placed among the Patriarchs of it or the young Girls will make as much sport of me as we did of Donnell marrying one to whom he might have been Father. If I can ever get there, I will not require any addition to the Society which I so much enjoyed. I do not wish to make new acquaintances but will regret the loss of some of my old friends. Stratton’s daughter marrying a man of whom you think highly, gives me much pleasure. I thought Parker a very good honest fellow from the little I saw of him in the country. Pray tell me if Mrs. Stratton is still alive and what the rest of the Family are doing.

Nothing but writing to you could have kept me so long awake. I can hardly tell you how late, or, rather how early it is. While writing I often pause and think back, and such a train of circumstances follow, that my pen is quite idle, and my mind very busy, that America, I go to the Country, in consequence of the arrival of the little Messenger and thus

must find its way to Liverpool, and I have to write a short letter to Littleton. It is a good many years since he promised me a long one. I have given your and his remembrances to all my sisters and to my Mother. My Brother is not known to L., but he is an most excellent man. They all think very highly of him and of you, and desire my saying every thing that is kind and affectionate. Lilly, who painted these little trifling trimming which you press so very carefully will be quite gratified if you have [linen] to accomplish your purpose. We continue to live almost as one family althou I have an establishment separate and we are as one in every thing.

Adieu, my dearest friend. You know the pleasure it will give me to hear soon from you and you will not postpone it.

Ever your most faithfully
A.D. Campbell

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