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diff --git a/38662-h/38662-h.htm b/38662-h/38662-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8578521 --- /dev/null +++ b/38662-h/38662-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13929 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Life of George Borrow, by Clement K. Shorter</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of George Borrow, by Clement K. +Shorter + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Life of George Borrow + + +Author: Clement K. Shorter + + + +Release Date: January 24, 2012 [eBook #38662] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF GEORGE BORROW*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the [1920] J. M. Dent & Sons edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p0ab.jpg"> +<img alt= +"George Borrow" +title= +"George Borrow" +src="images/p0as.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">THE WAYFARER’S LIBRARY</p> +<div class="gapdoubleline"> </div> +<h1>The<br /> +LIFE OF<br /> +GEORGE BORROW</h1> +<p style="text-align: center">Clement K. Shorter</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p0bb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" +src="images/p0bs.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">LONDON & +TORONTO: J. M. DENT & SONS, Ltd.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & +CO.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page1"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 1</span><span class="GutSmall">TO</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">AUGUSTINE BIRRELL</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">A FRIEND OF LONG YEARS AND A +TRUE</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LOVER OF GEORGE BORROW</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">C. K. S.</span></p> +<h2><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +3</span>INTRODUCTION</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is a substantial biography of +George Borrow in two large volumes by the late Dr. Knapp, an +American professor who gave many years of devotion to the +subject. But I have had the singular advantage over Dr. +Knapp in that all the private letters and personal papers left by +Borrow to his step-daughter and heir, Henrietta MacOubrey, have +come into my hands. These include Borrow’s letters to +his wife and step-daughter, many of which will be found scattered +through this biography. This book was first published under +the title of <i>George Borrow and his Circle</i>, but I am +grateful to a publisher for sending it forth once more in a form +which makes it available to a larger public. Certain new +letters from Borrow to his wife which have been found since the +first appearance of this book have been added, together with +other hitherto unprinted documents, making this issue of <i>The +Life of George Borrow</i> of much more value than its +predecessor.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Clement K. +Shorter.</span></p> +<p><i>Dec.</i> 9<i>th</i>, 1919.</p> +<h2><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +5</span>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">chap.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">I.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Captain Borrow of the West Norfolk +Militia</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">II.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Borrow’s Mother</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">III.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">John Thomas Borrow</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">IV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">A Wandering Childhood</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">V.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Gurneys and the Taylors of +Norwich</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page36">36</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">VI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">At the Norwich Grammar +School</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page44">44</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">VII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">In a Lawyer’s Office</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">VIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">An Old-time Publisher</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page55">55</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">IX.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“Faustus” and +“Romantic Ballads”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">X.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“Celebrated Trials” and +John Thurtell</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page67">67</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Borrow and the Fancy</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Eight Years of Vagabondage</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Sir John Bowring</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page81">81</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XIV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Borrow and the Bible +Society</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">St. Petersburg and John P. +Hasfeld</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XVI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Manchu +Bible—“Targum”—“The +Talisman”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XVII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Three Visits to Spain</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page110">110</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XVIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Borrow’s Spanish +Circle</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page130">130</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XIX.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Mary Borrow</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XX.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“The Children of the Open +Air”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page147">147</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“The Bible in +Spain”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page153">153</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Richard Ford</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page160">160</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">In Eastern Europe</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page168">168</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXIV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“Lavengro”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page183">183</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">A Visit to Cornish Kinsmen</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page191">191</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXVI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">In the Isle of Man</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page195">195</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXVII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Oulton Broad and Yarmouth</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page199">199</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXVIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">In Scotland and Ireland</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page207">207</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXIX.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“The Romany +Rye”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page222">222</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXX.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Edward Fitzgerald</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page227">227</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXXI.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">“Wild Wales”</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page235">235</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXXII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Life in London</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page244">244</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXXIII.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Friends of Later Years</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page250">250</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXXIV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Henrietta Clarke</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page255">255</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">XXXV.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Aftermath</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page268">268</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">Index</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page273">273</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>CHAPTER +I<br /> +<span class="smcap">Captain Borrow of the West Norfolk +Militia</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">George Henry Borrow</span> was born at +Dumpling Green near East Dereham, Norfolk, on the 5th of July, +1803. It pleased him to state on many an occasion that he +was born at East Dereham.</p> +<blockquote><p>On an evening of July, in the year 18—, at +East D—, a beautiful little town in a certain district of +East Anglia, I first saw the light,</p> +</blockquote> +<p>he writes in the opening lines of <i>Lavengro</i>, using +almost the identical phraseology that we find in the opening +lines of Goethe’s <i>Wahrheit und Dichtung</i>. Here +is a later memory of Dereham from <i>Lavengro</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>What it is at present I know not, for thirty years +and more have elapsed since I last trod its streets. It +will scarcely have improved, for how could it be better than it +was? I love to think on thee, pretty, quiet D—, thou +pattern of an English country town, with thy clean but narrow +streets branching out from thy modest market-place, with their +old-fashioned houses, with here and there a roof of venerable +thatch, with thy one half-aristocratic mansion, where resided the +Lady Bountiful—she, the generous and kind, who loved to +visit the sick, leaning on her golden-headed cane, while the +sleek old footman walked at a respectful distance behind. +Pretty, quiet D—, with thy venerable church, in which +moulder the mortal remains of England’s sweetest and most +pious bard.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then follows an exquisite eulogy of the poet Cowper, which +readers of <i>Lavengro</i> know full well. Three years +before <a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span>Borrow was born William Cowper died in this very town, +leaving behind him so rich a legacy of poetry and of prose, and +moreover so fragrant a memory of a life in which humour and +pathos played an equal part. It was no small thing for a +youth who aspired to any kind of renown to be born in the +neighbourhood of the last resting-place of the author of <i>The +Task</i>.</p> +<p>Yet Borrow was not actually born at East Dereham, but a mile +and a half away, at the little hamlet of Dumpling Green, in what +was then a glorious wilderness of common and furze bush, but is +now a quiet landscape of fields and hedges. You will find +the home in which the author of <i>Lavengro</i> first saw the +light without much difficulty. It is a fair-sized +farmhouse, with a long low frontage separated from the road by a +considerable strip of garden. It suggests a prosperous +yeoman class, and I have known farm-houses in East Anglia not one +whit larger dignified by the name of “hall.” +Nearly opposite is a pond. The trim hedges are a delight to +us to-day, but you must cast your mind back to a century ago when +they were entirely absent. The house belonged to George +Borrow’s maternal grandfather, Samuel Perfrement, who +farmed the adjacent land at this time. Samuel and Mary +Perfrement had eight children, the third of whom, Ann, was born +in 1772.</p> +<p>In February, 1793, Ann Perfrement, aged twenty-one, married +Thomas Borrow, aged thirty-five, in the Parish Church of East +Dereham, and of the two children that were born to them George +Henry Borrow was the younger. Thomas Borrow was the son of +one John Borrow of St. Cleer in Cornwall, who died before this +child was born, and is described by his grandson as the scion +“of an ancient but reduced Cornish family, tracing descent +from the de Burghs, and entitled to carry their arms.”</p> +<p>When Thomas Borrow was born the family were nothing more than +small farmers, and Thomas Borrow and his brothers were working on +the land in the intervals of attending the parish school. +At the age of eighteen Thomas was apprenticed to a maltster at +Liskeard, and about this time he joined the local Militia. +Tradition has it that his career as a maltster was cut short by +his knocking his master down in a scrimmage. The victor +fled from the scene of his prowess, and enlisted as a private +soldier in the Coldstream Guards. <a name="page9"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 9</span>This was in 1783, and in 1792 he was +transferred to the West Norfolk Militia; hence his appearance at +East Dereham, where, now a serjeant, his occupations for many a +year were recruiting and drilling. It is recorded that at a +theatrical performance at East Dereham he first saw, presumably +on the stage of the county-hall, his future wife—Ann +Perfrement. She was, it seems, engaged in a minor part in a +travelling company, not, we may assume, altogether with the +sanction of her father, who, in spite of his inheritance of +French blood, doubtless shared the then very strong English +prejudice against the stage. However, Ann was one of eight +children, and had, as we shall find in after years, no +inconsiderable strength of character, and so may well at twenty +years of age have decided upon a career for herself. In any +case we need not press too hard the Cornish and French origin of +George Borrow to explain his wandering tendencies, nor need we +wonder at the suggestion of Nathaniel Hawthorne, that he was +“supposed to be of gypsy descent by the mother’s +side.” You have only to think of the father, whose +work carried him from time to time to every corner of England, +Scotland, and Ireland, and of the mother with her reminiscence of +life in a travelling theatrical company, to explain in no small +measure the glorious vagabondage of George Borrow.</p> +<p>Behold then Thomas Borrow and Ann Perfrement as man and wife, +he being thirty-five years of age, she twenty-one. A +roving, restless life was in front of the pair for many a day, +the West Norfolk Militia being stationed in some eight or nine +separate towns within the interval of ten years between Thomas +Borrow’s marriage and his second son’s birth. +The first child, John Thomas Borrow, was born on the 15th April, +1801. The second son, George Henry Borrow, the subject of +this memoir, was born in his grandfather’s house at +Dumpling Green, East Dereham, his mother having found a natural +refuge with her father while her husband was busily recruiting in +Norfolk. The two children passed with their parents from +place to place, and in 1809 we find them once again in East +Dereham. From his son’s two books, <i>Lavengro</i> +and <i>Wild Wales</i>, we can trace the father’s later +wanderings until his final retirement to Norwich on a +pension. In 1810 the family were at Norman Cross in +Huntingdonshire, when Captain Borrow had to assist in <a +name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>guarding the +French prisoners of war; for it was the stirring epoch of the +Napoleonic conflict, and within the temporary prison “six +thousand French and other foreigners, followers of the Grand +Corsican, were now immured.”</p> +<blockquote><p>What a strange appearance had those mighty +casernes, with their blank blind walls, without windows, or +grating, and their slanting roofs, out of which, through orifices +where the tiles had been removed, would be protruded dozens of +grim heads, feasting their prison-sick eyes on the wide expanse +of country unfolded from that airy height. Ah! there was +much misery in those casernes; and from those roofs, doubtless, +many a wistful look was turned in the direction of lovely +France. Much had the poor inmates to endure, and much to +complain of, to the disgrace of England be it said—of +England, in general so kind and bountiful. Rations of +carrion meat, and bread from which I have seen the very hounds +occasionally turn away, were unworthy entertainment even for the +most ruffian enemy, when helpless and a captive; and such, alas! +was the fare in those casernes.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But here we have only to do with Thomas Borrow, of whom we get +many a quaint glimpse in <i>Lavengro</i>, our first and our last +being concerned with him in the one quality that his son seems to +have inherited, as the associate of a prize-fighter—Big Ben +Brain. Borrow records in his opening chapter that Ben Brain +and his father met in Hyde Park probably in 1790, and that after +an hour’s conflict “the champions shook hands and +retired, each having experienced quite enough of the +other’s prowess.” Borrow further relates that +four months afterwards Brain “died in the arms of my +father, who read to him the Bible in his last +moments.” More than once in his after years the old +soldier seems to have had a shy pride in that early conflict, +although the piety which seems to have come to him with the +responsibilities of wife and children led him to count any +recalling of the episode as a “temptation.” +When Borrow was about thirteen years of age, he overheard his +father and mother discussing their two boys, the elder being the +father’s favourite and George the mother’s:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I will hear nothing against my +first-born,” said my father, “even in the way of +insinuation: he is my joy and pride; the very image of myself in +my youthful days, long before I fought Big Ben, though perhaps +not quite so tall or strong built. As for the other, God +bless the child! I love him, I’m sure; but I must be +blind not to see the difference between him and his +brother. Why, he has neither my hair nor my eyes; and then +<a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>his +countenance! why, ’tis absolutely swarthy, God forgive me! +I had almost said like that of a gypsy, but I have nothing to say +against that; the boy is not to be blamed for the colour of his +face, nor for his hair and eyes; but, then, his ways and +manners!—I confess I do not like them, and that they give +me no little uneasiness.” <a name="citation11a"></a><a +href="#footnote11a" class="citation">[11a]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow throughout his narrative refers to his father as +“a man of excellent common sense,” and he quotes the +opinion of William Taylor, who had rather a bad reputation as a +“freethinker” with all the church-going citizens of +Norwich, with no little pride. Borrow is of course the +“young man” of the dialogue. He was then +eighteen years of age:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Not so, not so,” said the young man +eagerly; “before I knew you I knew nothing, and am still +very ignorant; but of late my father’s health has been very +much broken, and he requires attention; his spirits also have +become low, which, to tell you the truth, he attributes to my +misconduct. He says that I have imbibed all kinds of +strange notions and doctrines, which will, in all probability, +prove my ruin, both here and hereafter; +which—which—”</p> +<p>“Ah! I understand,” said the elder, with +another calm whiff. “I have always had a kind of +respect for your father, for there is something remarkable in his +appearance, something heroic, and I would fain have cultivated +his acquaintance; the feeling, however, has not been +reciprocated. I met him the other day, up the road, with +his cane and dog, and saluted him; he did not return my +salutation.”</p> +<p>“He has certain opinions of his own,” said the +youth, “which are widely different from those which he has +heard that you profess.”</p> +<p>“I respect a man for entertaining an opinion of his +own,” said the elderly individual. “I hold +certain opinions; but I should not respect an individual the more +for adopting them. All I wish for is tolerance, which I +myself endeavour to practise. I have always loved the +truth, and sought it; if I have not found it, the greater my +misfortune.” <a name="citation11b"></a><a +href="#footnote11b" class="citation">[11b]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>When Borrow is twenty years of age we have another glimpse of +father and son, the father in his last illness, the son eager as +usual to draw out his parent upon the one subject that appeals to +his adventurous spirit, “I should like to know something +about Big Ben,” he says:</p> +<blockquote><p>“You are a strange lad,” said my +father; “and though of late I have begun to entertain a +more favourable opinion than heretofore, there is still much +about you that I do not understand. <a +name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>Why do you +bring up that name? Don’t you know that it is one of +my temptations? You wish to know something about him? +Well, I will oblige you this once, and then farewell to such +vanities—something about him. I will tell +you—his—skin when he flung off his clothes—and +he had a particular knack in doing so—his skin, when he +bared his mighty chest and back for combat; and when he fought he +stood, so if I remember right—his skin, I say, was brown +and dusky as that of a toad. Oh me! I wish my elder +son was here!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Concerning the career of Borrow’s father there seem to +be no documents other than one contained in <i>Lavengro</i>, yet +no <i>Life of Borrow</i> can possibly be complete that does not +draw boldly upon the son’s priceless tributes. And so +we come now to the last scene in the career of the elder +Borrow—his death-bed—which is also the last page of +the first volume of <i>Lavengro</i>. George Borrow’s +brother has arrived from abroad. The little house in Willow +Lane, Norwich, contained the mother and her two sons sorrowfully +awaiting the end, which came on 28th February, 1824.</p> +<blockquote><p>At the dead hour of night—it might be about +two—I was awakened from sleep by a cry which sounded from +the room immediately below that in which I slept. I knew +the cry—it was the cry of my mother; and I also knew its +import, yet I made no effort to rise, for I was for the moment +paralysed. Again the cry sounded, yet still I lay +motionless—the stupidity of horror was upon me. A +third time, and it was then that, by a violent effort, bursting +the spell which appeared to bind me, I sprang from the bed and +rushed downstairs. My mother was running wildly about the +room; she had awoke and found my father senseless in the bed by +her side. I essayed to raise him, and after a few efforts +supported him in the bed in a sitting posture. My brother +now rushed in, and, snatching up a light that was burning, he +held it to my father’s face. “The surgeon! the +surgeon!” he cried; then, dropping the light, he ran out of +the room, followed by my mother; I remained alone, supporting the +senseless form of my father; the light had been extinguished by +the fall, and an almost total darkness reigned in the room. +The form pressed heavily against my bosom; at last methought it +moved. Yes, I was right; there was a heaving of the breast, +and then a gasping. Were those words which I heard? +Yes, they were words, low and indistinct at first, and then +audible. The mind of the dying man was reverting to former +scenes. I heard him mention names which I had often heard +him mention before. It was an awful moment; I felt +stupefied, but I still contrived to support my dying +father. There was a pause; again my father spoke: I heard +him speak of Minden, and of Meredith, the old Minden Serjeant, +and then he uttered another name, which at one period <a +name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 13</span>of his life +was much on his lips, the name of —; but this is a solemn +moment! There was a deep gasp: I shook, and thought all was +over; but I was mistaken—my father moved, and revived for a +moment; he supported himself in bed without my assistance. +I make no doubt that for a moment he was perfectly sensible, and +it was then that, clasping his hands, he uttered another name +clearly, distinctly—it was the name of Christ. With +that name upon his lips the brave old soldier sank back upon my +bosom, and, with his hands still clasped, yielded up his +soul.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Did Borrow’s father ever really fight Big Ben Brain or +Bryan in Hyde Park, or is it all a fantasy of the artist’s +imagining? We shall never know. Borrow called his +<i>Lavengro</i> “An Autobiography” at one stage of +its inception, although he wished to repudiate the +autobiographical nature of his story at another. Dr. Knapp +in his anxiety to prove that Borrow wrote his own memoirs in +<i>Lavengro</i> and <i>Romany Rye</i> tells us that he had no +creative faculty—an absurd proposition. But I think +we may accept the contest between Ben Brain and Thomas Borrow, +and what a revelation of heredity that impressive death-bed scene +may be counted. Borrow on one occasion in later life +declared that his favourite books were the Bible and the Newgate +Calendar. We know that he specialised on the Bible and +Prize-Fighting in no ordinary fashion—and here we see his +father on his death-bed struggling between the religious +sentiments of his maturity and the one great worldly escapade of +his early manhood.</p> +<h2><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +14</span>CHAPTER II<br /> +<span class="smcap">Borrow’s Mother</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Throughout</span> his whole life George +Borrow adored his mother, who seems to have developed into a +woman of great strength of character far remote from the pretty +play-actor who won the heart of a young soldier at East Dereham +in the last years of the eighteenth century. We would +gladly know something of the early years of Ann Perfrement. +Her father was a farmer, whose farm at Dumpling Green we have +already described. He did not, however, “farm his own +little estate” as Borrow declared. The +grandfather—a French Protestant—came, if we are to +believe Borrow, from Caen in Normandy after the Revocation of the +Edict of Nantes, but there is no documentary evidence to support +the contention. However, the story of the Huguenot +immigration into England is clearly bound up with Norwich and the +adjacent district. And so we may well take the name of +“Perfrement” as conclusive evidence of a French +origin, and reject as utterly untenable the not unnatural +suggestion of Nathaniel Hawthorne, that Borrow’s mother was +“of gypsy descent.” She was one of the eight +children of Samuel and Mary Perfrement, all of whom seem to have +devoted their lives to East Anglia. We owe to Dr. +Knapp’s edition of <i>Lavengro</i> one exquisite glimpse of +Ann’s girlhood that is not in any other issue of the +book. Ann’s elder sister, curious to know if she was +ever to be married, falls in with the current superstition that +she must wash her linen and “watch” it drying before +the fire between eleven and twelve at night. Ann Perfrement +was ten years old at the time. The two girls walked over to +East Dereham, purchased the necessary garment, washed it in the +pool near the house that may still be seen, and watched and +watched. Suddenly when the clock struck twelve they heard, +or thought they heard, a footstep on the path, the wind howled, +and the elder sister sprang to the door, locked and bolted it, +and then fell in convulsions on the floor. The +superstition, which Borrow <a name="page15"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 15</span>seems to have told his mother had a +Danish origin, is common enough in Ireland and in Celtic +lands. It could scarcely have been thus rehearsed by two +Norfolk children had they not had the blood of a more imaginative +race in their veins. In addition to this we find more than +one effective glimpse of Borrow’s mother in +<i>Lavengro</i>. We have already noted the episode in which +she takes the side of her younger boy against her husband, with +whom John was the favourite. We meet her again when after +his father’s death George had shouldered his knapsack and +made his way to London to seek his fortune by literature. +His elder brother had remained at home, determined upon being a +painter, but joined George in London, leaving the widowed mother +momentarily alone in Norwich.</p> +<blockquote><p>“And how are things going on at home?” +said I to my brother, after we had kissed and embraced. +“How is my mother, and how is the dog?”</p> +<p>“My mother, thank God, is tolerably well,” said my +brother, “but very much given to fits of crying. As +for the dog, he is not so well; but we will talk more of these +matters anon,” said my brother, again glancing at the +breakfast things. “I am very hungry, as you may +suppose, after having travelled all night.”</p> +<p>Thereupon I exerted myself to the best of my ability to +perform the duties of hospitality, and I made my brother +welcome—I may say more than welcome; and when the rage of +my brother’s hunger was somewhat abated, we recommenced +talking about the matters of our little family, and my brother +told me much about my mother; he spoke of her fits of crying, but +said that of late the said fits of crying had much diminished, +and she appeared to be taking comfort; and, if I am not much +mistaken, my brother told me that my mother had of late the +prayer-book frequently in her hand, and yet oftener the Bible. <a +name="citation15"></a><a href="#footnote15" +class="citation">[15]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Ann Borrow lived in Willow Lane, Norwich, for thirty-three +years. That Borrow was a devoted husband these pages will +show. He was also a devoted son. When he had made a +prosperous marriage he tried hard to persuade his mother to live +with him at Oulton, but all in vain. She had the wisdom to +see that such an arrangement is rarely conducive to a son’s +domestic happiness. She continued to live in the little +cottage made sacred by many associations until almost the end of +her days. Here she had lived in earlier years with her +husband and her two ambitious boys, and in Norwich, doubtless, +she had made her own friendships, <a name="page16"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 16</span>although of these no record +remains. The cottage still stands in its modest court, and +now serves the worthy purpose of a museum for Borrow +relics. In Borrow’s day it was the property of Thomas +King, a carpenter. You enter from Willow Lane through a +covered passage into what was then known as King’s +Court. Here the little house faces you, and you meet it +with a peculiarly agreeable sensation, recalling more than one +incident in <i>Lavengro</i> that transpired there. Thomas +King, the carpenter, was in direct descent in the maternal line +from the family of Parker, which gave to Norwich one of its most +distinguished sons in the famous Archbishop of Queen +Elizabeth’s day. He extended his business as +carpenter sufficiently to die a prosperous builder. Of his +two sons one, also named Thomas, became physician to Prince +Talleyrand, and married a sister of John Stuart Mill. All +this by the way, but there is little more to record of +Borrow’s mother apart from the letters addressed to her by +her son, which occur in their due place in these records. +Yet one little memorandum among my papers which bears Mrs. +Borrow’s signature may well find place here:</p> +<blockquote><p>In the year 1797 I was at Canterbury. One +night at about one o’clock Sir Robert Laurie and Captain +Treve came to our lodgings and tapped at our bedroom door, and +told my husband to get up, and get the men under arms without +beat of drum as soon as possible, for that there was a mutiny at +the Nore. My husband did so, and in less than two hours +they had marched out of town towards Sheerness without making any +noise. They had to break open the store-house in order to +get provender, because the Quartermaster, Serjeant Rowe, was out +of the way. The Dragoon Guards at that time at Canterbury +were in a state of mutiny. <span class="smcap">Ann +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>CHAPTER III<br /> +<span class="smcap">John Thomas Borrow</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">John Thomas Borrow</span> was born two +years before his younger brother, that is, on the 15th of April, +1801. His father, then Serjeant Borrow, was wandering from +town to town, and it is not known where his elder son first saw +the light. John Borrow’s nature was cast in a +somewhat different mould from that of his brother. He was +his father’s pride. Serjeant Borrow could not +understand George with his extraordinary taste for the society of +queer people—the wild Irish and the ragged Romanies. +John had far more of the normal in his being. Borrow gives +us in <i>Lavengro</i> our earliest glimpse of his brother:</p> +<blockquote><p>He was a beautiful child; one of those +occasionally seen in England, and in England alone; a rosy, +angelic face, blue eyes, and light chestnut hair; it was not +exactly an Anglo-Saxon countenance, in which, by the by, there is +generally a cast of loutishness and stupidity; it partook, to a +certain extent, of the Celtic character, particularly in the fire +and vivacity which illumined it; his face was the mirror of his +mind; perhaps no disposition more amiable was ever found amongst +the children of Adam, united, however, with no inconsiderable +portion of high and dauntless spirit. So great was his +beauty in infancy, that people, especially those of the poorer +classes, would follow the nurse who carried him about in order to +look at and bless his lovely face. At the age of three +months an attempt was made to snatch him from his mother’s +arms in the streets of London, at the moment she was about to +enter a coach; indeed, his appearance seemed to operate so +powerfully upon every person who beheld him, that my parents were +under continual apprehension of losing him; his beauty, however, +was perhaps surpassed by the quickness of his parts. He +mastered his letters in a few hours, and in a day or two could +decipher the names of people on the doors of houses and over the +shop-windows.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>John received his early education at the Norwich Grammar +School, while the younger brother was kept under the paternal +wing. Father and mother, with their younger boy George, +were always on the move, passing from county to county and from +country to country, as Serjeant Borrow, <a +name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>soon to be +Captain, attended to his duties of drilling and recruiting, now +in England, now in Scotland, now in Ireland. We are given a +fascinating glimpse of John Borrow in <i>Lavengro</i> by way of a +conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Borrow over the education of +their children. It was agreed that while the family were in +Edinburgh the boys should be sent to the High School, and so at +the historic school that Sir Walter Scott had attended a +generation before the two boys were placed, John being removed +from the Norwich Grammar School for the purpose. Among his +many prejudices of after years Borrow’s dislike of Scott +was perhaps the most regrettable, otherwise he would have gloried +in the fact that their childhood had had one remarkable point in +common. Each boy took part in the feuds between the Old +Town and the New Town. Exactly as Scott records his prowess +at “the manning of the Cowgate Port,” and the combats +maintained with great vigour, “with stones, and sticks, and +fisticuffs,” as set forth in the first volume of Lockhart, +so we have not dissimilar feats set down in +<i>Lavengro</i>. Side by side also with the story of +“Green-Breeks,” which stands out in Scott’s +narrative of his school combats, we have the more lurid account +by Borrow of David Haggart. Literary biography is made more +interesting by such episodes of likeness and of contrast.</p> +<p>We next find John Borrow in Ireland with his father, mother, +and brother. George is still a child, but he is precocious +enough to be learning the language, and thus laying the +foundation of his interest in little-known tongues. John is +now an ensign in his father’s regiment. “Ah! he +was a sweet being, that boy soldier, a plant of early promise, +bidding fair to become in after time all that is great, good, and +admirable.” Ensign John tells his little brother how +pleased he is to find himself, although not yet sixteen years +old, “a person in authority with many Englishmen under +me. Oh! these last six weeks have passed like hours in +heaven.” That was in 1816, and we do not meet John +again until five years later, when we hear of him rushing into +the water to save a drowning man, while twenty others were +bathing who might have rendered assistance. Borrow records +once again his father’s satisfaction:</p> +<blockquote><p>“My boy, my own boy, you are the very image +of myself, the day I took off my coat in the park to fight Big +Ben,” said my <a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +19</span>father, on meeting his son, wet and dripping, +immediately after his bold feat. And who cannot excuse the +honest pride of the old man—the stout old man?</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In the interval the war had ended, and Napoleon had departed +for St. Helena. Peace had led to the pensioning of militia +officers, or reducing to half-pay of the juniors. The elder +Borrow had settled in Norwich. George was set to study at +the Grammar School there, while his brother worked in Old +Crome’s studio, for here was a moment when Norwich had its +interesting Renaissance, and John Borrow was bent on being an +artist. He had worked with Crome once before—during +the brief interval that Napoleon was at Elba—but now he set +to in real earnest, and we have evidence of a score of pictures +by him that were catalogued in the exhibitions of the Norwich +Society of Artists between the years 1817 and 1824. They +include one portrait of the artist’s father, and two of his +brother George. Old Crome died in 1821, and then John went +to London to study under Haydon. Borrow declares that his +brother had real taste for painting, and that “if +circumstances had not eventually diverted his mind from the +pursuit, he would have attained excellence, and left behind him +some enduring monument of his powers.” “He +lacked, however,” he tells us, “one thing, the want +of which is but too often fatal to the sons of genius, and +without which genius is little more than a splendid toy in the +hands of the possessor—perseverance, dogged +perseverance.” It is when he is thus commenting on +his brother’s characteristics that Borrow gives his own +fine if narrow eulogy of Old Crome. John Borrow seems to +have continued his studies in London under Haydon for a year, and +then to have gone to Paris to copy pictures at the Louvre. +He mentions a particular copy that he made of a celebrated +picture by one of the Italian masters, for which a Hungarian +nobleman paid him well. His three years’ absence was +brought to an abrupt termination by news of his father’s +illness. He returned to Norwich in time to stand by that +father’s bedside when he died. The elder Borrow died, +as we have seen, in February, 1824. The little home in +King’s Court was kept on for the mother, and as John was +making money by his pictures it was understood that he should +stay with her. On the 1st April, however, George <a +name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>started for +London, carrying the manuscript of <i>Romantic Ballads from the +Danish</i> to Sir Richard Phillips, the publisher. On the +29th of the same month he was joined by his brother John. +John had come to London at his own expense, but in the interests +of the Norwich Town Council. The council wanted a portrait +of one of its mayors for St. Andrew’s Hall—that +Valhalla of Norwich municipal worthies which still strikes the +stranger as well-nigh unique in the city life of England. +The municipality would fain have encouraged a fellow-citizen, and +John Borrow had been invited to paint the portrait. +“Why,” it was asked, “should the money go into +a stranger’s pocket and be spent in London?” +John, however, felt diffident of his ability and declined, and +this in spite of the fact that the £100 offered for the +portrait must have been very tempting. “What a pity +it was,” he said, “that Crome was dead.” +“Crome,” said the orator of the deputation that had +called on John Borrow,</p> +<blockquote><p>“Crome; yes, he was a clever man, a very +clever man, in his way; he was good at painting landscapes and +farm-houses, but he would not do in the present instance, were he +alive. He had no conception of the heroic, sir. We +want some person capable of representing our mayor standing under +the Norman arch of the cathedral.” <a +name="citation20"></a><a href="#footnote20" +class="citation">[20]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>At the mention of the heroic John bethought himself of Haydon, +and suggested his name; hence his visit to London, and his +proposed interview with Haydon. The two brothers went +together to call upon the “painter of the heroic” at +his studio in Connaught Terrace, Hyde Park. There was some +difficulty about their admission, and it turned out afterwards +that Haydon thought they might be duns, as he was very hard up at +the time. His eyes glistened at the mention of the +£100. “I am not very fond of painting +portraits,” he said, “but a mayor is a mayor, and +there is something grand in that idea of the Norman +arch.” And thus Mayor Hawkes came to be painted by +Benjamin Haydon, and his portrait may be found, not without +diligent search, among the many municipal worthies that figure on +the walls of that most picturesque old Hall in Norwich. +Here is Borrow’s description of the painting:</p> +<blockquote><p>The original mayor was a mighty, portly man, with +a bull’s head, black hair, body like that of a dray horse, +and legs and <a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>thighs corresponding; a man six foot high at the +least. To his bull’s head, black hair, and body the +painter had done justice; there was one point, however, in which +the portrait did not correspond with the original—the legs +were disproportionably short, the painter having substituted his +own legs for those of the mayor.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>John Borrow described Robert Hawkes to his brother as a person +of many qualifications:</p> +<blockquote><p>—big and portly, with a voice like +Boanerges; a religious man, the possessor of an immense pew; +loyal, so much so that I once heard him say that he would at any +time go three miles to hear any one sing <i>God save the +King</i>; moreover, a giver of excellent dinners. Such is +our present mayor, who, owing to his loyalty, his religion, and a +little, perhaps, to his dinners, is a mighty favourite.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Haydon, who makes no mention of the Borrows in his +<i>Correspondence</i> or <i>Autobiography</i>, although there is +one letter of George Borrow’s to him in the former work, +had been in jail for debt three years prior to the visit of the +Borrows. He was then at work on his greatest success in +“the heroic”—<i>The Raising of Lazarus</i>, a +canvas nineteen feet long by fifteen high. The debt was one +to house decorators, for the artist had ever large ideas. +The bailiff, he tells us, <a name="citation21"></a><a +href="#footnote21" class="citation">[21]</a> was so agitated at +the sight of the painting of Lazarus in the studio that he cried +out, “Oh, my God! Sir, I won’t arrest +you. Give me your word to meet me at twelve at the +attorney’s, and I’ll take it.” In 1821 +Haydon married, and a little later we find him again +“without a single shilling in the world—with a large +picture before me not half done.” In April, 1822, he +is arrested at the instance of his colourman, “with whom I +had dealt for fifteen years,” and in November of the same +year he is arrested again at the instance of “a miserable +apothecary.” In April, 1823, we find him in the +King’s Bench Prison, from which he was released in +July. <i>The Raising of Lazarus</i> meanwhile had gone to +pay his upholsterer £300, and his <i>Christ’s Entry +into Jerusalem</i> had been sold for £240, although it had +brought him £3000 in receipts at exhibitions. Clearly +heroic pictures did not pay, and Haydon here took up “the +torment of portrait-painting” as he called it.</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span>“Can you wonder,” he wrote in July, 1825, +“that I nauseate portraits, except portraits of clever +people. I feel quite convinced that every portrait-painter, +if there be purgatory, will leap at once to heaven, without this +previous purification.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Perhaps it was Mayor Hawkes who helped to inspire this +feeling. Yet the hundred pounds that John Borrow was able +to procure must have been a godsend, for shortly before this we +find him writing in his diary of the desperation that caused him +to sell his books. “Books that had cost me £20 +I got only £3 for. But it was better than +starvation.” Indeed it was in April of this year that +the very baker was “insolent,” and so in May, 1824, +as we learn from Tom Taylor’s <i>Life</i>, he produced +“a full-length portrait of Mr. Hawkes, a late Mayor of +Norwich, painted for St. Andrew’s Hall in that +city.” But I must leave Haydon’s troubled +career, which closes so far as the two brothers are concerned +with a letter from George to Haydon written the following year +from 26 Bryanston Street, Portman Square:</p> +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I +should feel extremely obliged if you would allow me to sit to you +as soon as possible. I am going to the south of France in +little better than a fortnight, and I would sooner lose a +thousand pounds than not have the honour of appearing in the +picture.—Yours sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>. <a name="citation22"></a><a href="#footnote22" +class="citation">[22]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>As Borrow was at the time in a most impoverished condition, it +is not easy to believe that he would have wished to be taken at +his word. He certainly had not a thousand pounds to +lose. But he did undoubtedly, as we shall see, take that +journey on foot through the south of France, after the manner of +an earlier vagabond of literature—Oliver Goldsmith. +Haydon was to be far too much taken up with his own troubles +during the coming months to think any more about the Borrows when +he had once completed the portrait of the mayor, which he had +done by July of this year. Borrow’s letter to him is, +however, an obvious outcome of a remark dropped by the painter on +the occasion of his one visit to his studio when the following +conversation took place:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I’ll stick to the heroic,” said +the painter; “I now and then dabble in the comic, but what +I do gives me no pleasure, the <a name="page23"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 23</span>comic is so low; there is nothing +like the heroic. I am engaged here on a heroic +picture,” said he, pointing to the canvas; “the +subject is ‘Pharaoh dismissing Moses from Egypt,’ +after the last plague—the death of the first-born,—it +is not far advanced—that finished figure is Moses”: +they both looked at the canvas, and I, standing behind, took a +modest peep. The picture, as the painter said, was not far +advanced, the Pharaoh was merely in outline; my eye was, of +course, attracted by the finished figure, or rather what the +painter had called the finished figure; but, as I gazed upon it, +it appeared to me that there was something +defective—something unsatisfactory in the figure. I +concluded, however, that the painter, notwithstanding what he had +said, had omitted to give it the finishing touch. “I +intend this to be my best picture,” said the painter; +“what I want now is a face for Pharaoh; I have long been +meditating on a face for Pharaoh.” Here, chancing to +cast his eye upon my countenance, of whom he had scarcely taken +any manner of notice, he remained with his mouth open for some +time. “Who is this?” said he at last. +“Oh, this is my brother, I forgot to introduce +him—.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We wish that the acquaintance had extended further, but this +was not to be. Borrow was soon to commence the wanderings +which were to give him much unsatisfactory fame, and the pair +never met again. Let us, however, return to John Borrow, +who accompanied Haydon to Norwich, leaving his brother for some +time longer to the tender mercies of Sir Richard Phillips. +John, we judge, seems to have had plenty of shrewdness, and was +not without a sense of his own limitations. A chance came +to him of commercial success in a distant land, and he seized +that chance. A Norwich friend, Allday Kerrison, had gone +out to Mexico, and writing from Zacatecas in 1825 asked John to +join him. John accepted. His salary in the service of +the Real del Monte Company was to be £300 per annum. +He sailed for Mexico in 1826, having obtained from his Colonel, +Lord Orford, leave of absence for a year, it being understood +that renewals of that leave of absence might be granted. He +was entitled to half-pay as a Lieutenant of the West Norfolk +Militia, and this he settled upon his mother during his +absence. His career in Mexico was a failure. There +are many of his letters to his mother and brother extant which +tell of the difficulties of his situation. He was in three +Mexican companies in succession, and was about to be sent to +Columbia to take charge of a mine when he was stricken with a +fever, and died at Guanajuato on 22nd November, 1833. He +had far exceeded any leave that his Colonel could <a +name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>in fairness +grant, and before his death his name had been taken off the army +rolls.</p> +<p>I have said that there are letters of John Borrow’s +extant. These show a keen intelligence, great practicality, +and common sense. George—in 1829—had asked his +brother as to joining him in Mexico. “If the country +is soon settled I shall say ‘yes,’” John +answers. With equal wisdom he says to his brother, +“Do not enter the army; it is a bad spec.” In +this same year, 1829, John writes to ask whether his mother and +brother are “still living in that windy house of old +King’s; it gives me the rheumatism to think of +it.” In 1830 he writes to his mother that he wishes +his brother were making money. “Neither he nor I have +any luck, he works hard and remains poor.” In +February of 1831 John writes to George suggesting that he should +endeavour to procure a commission in the regiment, and in July of +the same year to try the law again:</p> +<blockquote><p>I am convinced that your want of success in life +is more owing to your being unlike other people than to any other +cause.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>John, as we have seen, died in Mexico of fever. George +was at St. Petersburg working for the Bible Society when his +mother writes from Norwich to tell him the news. John had +died on 22nd November, 1833. “You are now my only +hope,” she writes, “. . . do not grieve, my dear +George. I trust we shall all meet in heaven. Put a +crape on your hat for some time.” Had George +Borrow’s brother lived it might have meant very much in his +life. There might have been nephews and nieces to soften +the asperity of his later years. Who can say? +Meanwhile, <i>Lavengro</i> contains no happier pages than those +concerned with this dearly loved brother.</p> +<h2><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +25</span>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Wandering Childhood</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> do not need to inquire too +deeply as to Borrow’s possible gypsy origin in order to +account for his vagabond propensities. The lives of his +parents before his birth, and the story of his own boyhood, +sufficiently account for the dominant tendency in Borrow. +His father and mother were married in 1793. Almost every +year they changed their domicile. In 1801 a son was born to +them,—they still continued to change their domicile. +Captain Borrow followed his regiment from place to place, and his +family accompanied him on these journeys. Dover, +Colchester, Sandgate, Canterbury, Chelmsford—these are some +of the towns where the Borrows sojourned. It was the merest +accident—the Peace of Amiens, to be explicit—that led +them back to East Dereham in 1803, so that the second son was +born in his grandfather’s house. George was only a +month old when he was carried off to Colchester; in 1804 he was +in the barracks of Kent, in 1805 of Sussex, in 1806 at Hastings, +in 1807 at Canterbury, and so on. The whole of the first +thirteen years of Borrow’s life is filled up in this way, +until in 1816 he and his parents found a home of some permanence +in Norwich. In 1809–10 they were at East Dereham, in +1810–11 at Norman Cross, in 1812 wandering from Harwich to +Sheffield, and in 1813 wandering from Sheffield to Edinburgh; in +1814 they were in Norwich, and in 1815–16 in Ireland. +In this last year they returned to Norwich, the father to retire +on full pay, and to live in Willow Lane until his death. +How could a boy, whose first twelve years of life had been made +up of such continual wandering, have been other than a restless, +nomad-loving man, envious of the free life of the gypsies, for +whom alone in later life he seemed to have kindliness? +Those twelve years are to most boys merely the making of a moral +foundation for good or ill; to Borrow they were everything, and +at least four personalities captured his imagination during that +short span, as we see if we follow <a name="page26"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 26</span>his juvenile wanderings more in +detail to Dereham, Norman Cross, Edinburgh, and Clonmel, and the +personalities are Lady Fenn, Ambrose Smith, David Haggart, and +Murtagh. Let us deal with each in turn:</p> +<p>In our opening chapter we referred to the lines in +<i>Lavengro</i>, where Borrow recalls his early impressions of +his native town, or at least the town in the neighbourhood of the +hamlet in which he was born. Borrow, we may be sure, would +have repudiated “Dumpling Green” if he could. +The name had a humorous suggestion. To this day they call +boys from Norfolk “Norfolk Dumplings” in the +neighbouring shires. But East Dereham was something to be +proud of. In it had died the writer who, through the +greater part of Borrow’s life, remained the favourite poet +of that half of England which professed the Evangelical creed in +which Borrow was brought up. Cowper was buried here by the +side of Mary Unwin, and every Sunday little George would see his +tomb just as Henry Kingsley was wont to see the tombs in Chelsea +Old Church. The fervour of devotion to Cowper’s +memory that obtained in those early days must have been a +stimulus to the boy, who from the first had ambitions far beyond +anything that he was to achieve. Here was his first +lesson. The second came from Lady Fenn—a more vivid +impression for the child. Twenty years before Borrow was +born Cowper had sung her merits in his verse. She and her +golden-headed cane are commemorated in <i>Lavengro</i>. +Dame Eleanor Fenn had made a reputation in her time. As +“Mrs. Teachwell” and “Mrs. Lovechild” she +had published books for the young of a most improving character, +<i>The Child’s Grammar</i>, <i>The Mother’s +Grammar</i>, <i>A Short History of Insects</i>, and <i>Cobwebs to +Catch Flies</i> being of the number. The forty-fourth +edition of <i>The Child’s Grammar</i> by Mrs. Lovechild +appeared in 1851, and the twenty-second edition of <i>The +Mother’s Grammar</i> in 1849. But it is her husband +that her name most recalls to us. Sir John Fenn gave us the +delightful Paston Letters—of which Horace Walpole said that +“they make all other letters not worth +reading.” Walpole described “Mr. Fenn of East +Dereham in Norfolk” as “a smatterer in antiquity, but +a very good sort of man.” Fenn, who held the original +documents of the Letters, sent his first two volumes, when +published, to Buckingham Palace, and the King acknowledged <a +name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>the gifts by +knighting the editor, who, however, died in 1794, before George +Borrow was born. His widow survived until 1813, and Borrow +was in his seventh or eighth year when he caught these notable +glimpses of his “Lady Bountiful,” who lived in +“the half-aristocratic mansion” of the town. +But we know next to nothing of Borrow in East Dereham, from which +indeed he departed in his eighth year. There are, however, +interesting references to his memories of the place in +<i>Lavengro</i>, the best of which is when he goes to church with +the gypsies and dreams of an incident in his childhood:</p> +<blockquote><p>It appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew +of the old church of pretty Dereham. I had occasionally +done so when a child, and had suddenly woke up. Yes, +surely, I had been asleep and had woke up; but no! if I had been +asleep I had been waking in my sleep, struggling, striving, +learning and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away +whilst I had been asleep—ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit +had come on whilst I had been asleep—how circumstances had +altered, and above all myself whilst I had been asleep. No, +I had not been asleep in the old church! I was in a pew, it +is true, but not the pew of black leather in which I sometimes +fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and then my +companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I +was no longer with my respectable father and mother, and my dear +brother, but with the gypsy cral and his wife, and the gigantic +Tawno, the Antinous of the dusky people. And what was I +myself? No longer an innocent child but a moody man, +bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of my strivings and +strugglings; of what I had learnt and unlearnt.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But Borrow left Dereham in his eighth year, only to revisit it +when famous.</p> +<p>In <i>Lavengro</i> Borrow recalls childish memories of +Canterbury and of Hythe, at which latter place he saw the church +vault filled with ancient skulls as we may see it there +to-day. And after that the book which impressed itself most +vividly upon his memory was <i>Robinson Crusoe</i>. How +much he came to revere Defoe the pages of <i>Lavengro</i> most +eloquently reveal to us. “Hail to thee, spirit of +Defoe! What does not my own poor self owe to +thee?” In 1810–11 his father was in the +barracks at Norman Cross in Huntingdonshire. Here the +Government had bought a large tract of land, and built upon it a +huge wooden prison, and overlooking this a substantial barrack +also of wood, the only brick building on the <a +name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>land being +the house of the Commandant. The great building was +destined for the soldiers taken prisoners in the French +wars. The place was constructed to hold 5000 prisoners, and +500 men were employed by the War Office in 1808 upon its +construction. The first batch of prisoners were the victims +of the battle of Vimeiro in that year. Borrow’s +description of the hardships of the prisoners has been called in +question by a later writer, Arthur Brown, who denies the story of +bad food and “straw-plait hunts,” and charges Borrow +with recklessness of statement. “What could have been +the matter with the man to write such stuff as this?” asks +Brown in reference to Borrow’s story of bad meat and bad +bread: which was not treating a great author with quite +sufficient reverence. Borrow was but recalling memories of +childhood, a period when one swallow does make a summer. He +had doubtless seen examples of what he described, although it may +not have been the normal condition of things. Brown’s +own description of the Norman Cross prison was interwoven with a +love romance, in which a French officer fell in love with a girl +of the neighbouring village of Yaxley, and after Waterloo +returned to England and married her. When he wrote his +story a very old man was still living at Yaxley, who remembered, +as a boy, having often seen the prisoners on the road, some very +well dressed, some in tatters, a few in uniform. The +milestone is still pointed out which marked the limit beyond +which the officer-prisoners might not walk. The buildings +were destroyed in 1814, when all the prisoners were sent home, +and the house of the Commandant, now a private residence, alone +remains to recall this episode in our history. But +Borrow’s most vivid memory of Norman Cross was connected +with the viper given to him by an old man, who had rendered it +harmless by removing the fangs. It was the possession of +this tame viper that enabled the child of eight—this was +Borrow’s age at the time—to impress the gypsies that +he met soon afterwards, and particularly the boy Ambrose Smith, +whom Borrow introduced to the world in <i>Lavengro</i> as Jasper +Petulengro. Borrow’s frequent meetings with +Petulengro are no doubt many of them mythical. He was an +imaginative writer, but Petulengro was a very real person, who +lived the usual roving gypsy life. There is no reason to +assume otherwise than that Borrow did actually meet him <a +name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>at Norman +Cross when he was eight years old, and Ambrose a year younger, +and not thirteen as Borrow states. In the original +manuscript of <i>Lavengro</i> in my possession, +“Ambrose” is given instead of “Jasper,” +and the name was altered as an afterthought. It is of +course possible that Borrow did not actually meet Jasper until +his arrival in Norwich, for in the first half of the nineteenth +century various gypsy families were in the habit of assembling +their carts and staking their tents on the heights above Norwich, +known as Mousehold Heath, that glorious tract of country that has +been rendered memorable in history by the tragic life of Kett the +tanner, and has been immortalised in painting by Turner and +Crome. Here were assembled the Smiths and Hernes and +Boswells, names familiar to every student of gypsy lore. +Jasper Petulengro, as Borrow calls him, or Ambrose Smith, to give +him his real name, was the son of Fāden Smith, and his name +of Ambrose was derived from his uncle, Ambrose Smith, who was +transported for stealing harness. Ambrose was twice +married, and it was his second wife, Sanspirella Herne, who comes +into the Borrow story. He had families by both his +wives. Ambrose had an extraordinary varied career. It +will be remembered by readers of the <i>Zincali</i> that when he +visited Borrow at Oulton in 1842 he complained that “There +is no living for the poor people, brother, the chokengres +(police) pursue us from place to place, and the gorgios are +become either so poor or miserly that they grudge our cattle a +bite of grass by the wayside, and ourselves a yard of ground to +light a fire upon.” After a time Ambrose left the +eastern counties and crossed to Ireland. In 1868 he went to +Scotland, and there seems to have revived his fortunes. In +1878 he and his family were encamped at Knockenhair Park, about a +mile from Dunbar. Here Queen Victoria, who was staying at +Broxmouth Park near by with the Dowager Duchess of Roxburghe, +became interested in the gypsies, and paid them a visit. +This was in the summer of 1878. Ambrose was then a very old +man. He died in the following October. His wife, +Sanspi or Sanspirella, received a message of sympathy from the +Queen. Very shortly after Ambrose’s death, however, +most of the family went off to America, where doubtless they are +now scattered, many of them, it may be, leading successful lives, +utterly oblivious of the associations of one <a +name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>of their +ancestors with Borrow and his great book. Ambrose Smith was +buried in Dunbar cemetery, the Christian service being read over +his grave, and his friends erected a stone to him which bears the +following inscription:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">In Memory of<br /> +<span class="smcap">Ambrose Smith</span>, who died 22nd<br /> +October 1878, aged 74 years.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">Also</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Thomas</span>, +his son,<br /> +who died 28th May 1879, aged 48 years.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Three years separated the sojourn of the Borrow family at +Norman Cross from their sojourn in Edinburgh—three years of +continuous wandering. The West Norfolk Militia were +watching the French prisoners at Norman Cross for fifteen +months. After that we have glimpses of them at Colchester, +at East Dereham again, at Harwich, at Leicester, at Huddersfield, +concerning which place Borrow incidentally in <i>Wild Wales</i> +writes of having been at school, in Sheffield, in +Berwick-on-Tweed, and finally the family are in Edinburgh, where +they arrive on 6th April, 1813. We have already referred to +Borrow’s presence at the High School of Edinburgh, the +school sanctified by association with Walter Scott and so many of +his illustrious fellow-countrymen. He and his brother were +at the High School for a single session, that is, for the winter +session of 1813–14, although with the licence of a maker of +fiction he claimed, in <i>Lavengro</i>, to have been there for +two years. But it is not in this brief period of schooling +of a boy of ten that we find the strongest influence that +Edinburgh gave to Borrow. Rather may we seek it in the +acquaintanceship with the once too notorious David Haggart. +Seven years later than this all the peoples of the three kingdoms +were discussing David Haggart, the Scots Jack Sheppard, the +clever young prison-breaker, who was hanged at Edinburgh in 1821 +for killing his gaoler in Dumfries prison. How much David +Haggart filled the imagination of every one who could read in the +early years of last century is demonstrated by a reference to the +Library Catalogue of the British Museum, where we find pamphlet +after pamphlet, broadsheet after broadsheet, treating of the +adventures, trial, and execution <a name="page31"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 31</span>of this youthful gaolbird. But +by far the most valuable publication with regard to Haggart is +one that Borrow must have read in his youth. This was a +life of Haggart written by himself, a little book that had a wide +circulation. From this little biography we learn that +Haggart was born in Golden Acre, near Canon-Mills, in the county +of Edinburgh in 1801, his father, John Haggart, being a +gamekeeper, and in later years a dog-trainer. The boy was +at school under Mr. Robin Gibson at Canon-Mills for two +years. He left school at ten years of age, and from that +time until his execution seems to have had a continuous career of +thieving. He tells us that before he was eleven years old +he had stolen a bantam cock from a woman belonging to the New +Town of Edinburgh. He went with another boy to Currie, six +miles from Edinburgh, and there stole a pony, but this was +afterwards returned. When but twelve years of age he +attended Leith races, and it was here that he enlisted in the +Norfolk Militia, then stationed in Edinburgh Castle. This +may very well have brought him into contact with Borrow in the +way described in <i>Lavengro</i>. He was only, however, in +the regiment for a year, for when it was sent back to England the +Colonel in command of it obtained young Haggart’s +discharge. These dates coincide with Borrow’s +presence in Edinburgh. Haggart’s history for the next +five or six years was in truth merely that of a wandering +pickpocket, sometimes in Scotland, sometimes in England, and +finally he became a notorious burglar. Incidentally he +refers to a girl with whom he was in love. Her name was +Mary Hill. She belonged to Ecclefechan, which Haggart more +than once visited. He must therefore have known Carlyle, +who had not then left his native village. In 1820 we find +him in Edinburgh, carrying on the same sort of depredations both +there and at Leith—now he steals a silk plaid, now a +greatcoat, and now a silver teapot. These thefts, of +course, landed him in gaol, out of which he breaks rather +dramatically, fleeing with a companion to Kelso. He had, +indeed, more than one experience of gaol. Finally, we find +him in the prison of Dumfries destined to stand his trial for +“one act of house-breaking, eleven cases of theft, and one +of prison-breaking.” While in prison at Dumfries he +planned another escape, and in the attempt to hit a gaoler named +Morrin on the head with a stone he unexpectedly killed him. +His <a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>escape +from Dumfries gaol after this murder, and his later wanderings, +are the most dramatic part of his book. He fled through +Carlisle to Newcastle, and then thought that he would be safer if +he returned to Scotland, where he found the rewards that were +offered for his arrest faced him wherever he went. He +turned up again in Edinburgh, where he seems to have gone about +freely, although reading everywhere the notices that a reward of +seventy guineas was offered for his apprehension. Then he +fled to Ireland, where he thought that his safety was +assured. At Dromore he was arrested and brought before the +magistrate, but he spoke with an Irish brogue, and declared that +his name was John M‘Colgan, and that he came from +Armagh. He escaped from Dromore gaol by jumping through a +window, and actually went so far as to pay three pound ten +shillings for his passage to America, but he was afraid of the +sea, and changed his mind, and lost his passage money at the last +moment. After this he made a tour right through Ireland, in +spite of the fact that the Dublin <i>Hue and Cry</i> had a +description of his person which he read more than once. His +assurance was such that in Tullamore he made a pig-driver +apologise before the magistrate for charging him with theft, +although he had been living on nothing else all the time he was +in Ireland. Finally, he was captured, being recognised by a +policeman from Edinburgh. He was brought from Ireland to +Dumfries, landed in Calton gaol, Edinburgh, and was tried and +executed.</p> +<p>We may pass over the brief sojourn in Norwich that was +Borrow’s lot in 1814, when the West Norfolk Militia left +Scotland. When Napoleon escaped from Elba the West Norfolk +Regiment was despatched to Ireland, and Captain Borrow again took +his family with him. We find the boy with his family at +Clonmel from May to December of 1815. Here Borrow’s +elder brother, now a boy of fifteen, was promoted from Ensign to +Lieutenant. In January, 1816, the Borrows moved to +Templemore, returning to England in May of that year. +Borrow, we see, was less than a year in Ireland, and he was only +thirteen years of age when he left the country. But it +seems to have been the greatest influence that guided his +career. Three of the most fascinating chapters in +<i>Lavengro</i> were one outcome of that brief sojourn, a thirst +for the acquirement of languages was another, and perhaps a taste +for romancing a third. Borrow never came to have the <a +name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>least +sympathy with the Irish race, or its national aspirations. +As the son of a half-educated soldier he did not come in contact +with any but the vagabond element of Ireland, exactly as his +father had done before him. Captain Borrow was asked on one +occasion what language is being spoken:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Irish,” said my father with a loud +voice, “and a bad language it is. . . . There’s +one part of London where all the Irish live—at least the +worst of them—and there they hatch their villainies to +speak this tongue.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And Borrow followed his father’s prejudices throughout +his life, although in the one happy year in which he wrote <i>The +Bible in Spain</i> he was able to do justice to the country that +had inspired so much of his work:</p> +<blockquote><p>Honour to Ireland and her “hundred thousand +welcomes”! Her fields have long been the greenest in +the world; her daughters the fairest; her sons the bravest and +most eloquent. May they never cease to be so. <a +name="citation33a"></a><a href="#footnote33a" +class="citation">[33a]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>In later years Orangemen were to him the only attractive +element in the life of Ireland, and we may be sure that he was +not displeased when his stepdaughter married one of them. +Yet the creator of literature works more wisely than he knows, +and Borrow’s books have won the wise and benign +appreciation of many an Irish and Roman Catholic reader, whose +nationality and religion Borrow would have anathematised. +Irishmen may forgive Borrow much, because he was one of the first +of modern English writers to take their language seriously. <a +name="citation33b"></a><a href="#footnote33b" +class="citation">[33b]</a> It is true that he had but the +most superficial knowledge of it. He admits—in +<i>Wild Wales</i>—that he only knew it “by +ear.” The abundant Irish literature that has been so +diligently studied during the last quarter of a century was a +closed book to Borrow, whose few translations from the Irish have +but little value. Yet <a name="page34"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 34</span>the very appreciation of Irish as a +language to be seriously studied in days before Dr. George +Sigerson and Dr. Douglas Hyde had waxed enthusiastic and +practical kindles our gratitude. Then what a character is +Murtagh. We are sure there was a Murtagh, although, unlike +Borrow’s other boyish and vagabond friend Haggart, we know +nothing about him but what Borrow has to tell. Yet what a +picture is this where Murtagh wants a pack of cards:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I say, Murtagh!”</p> +<p>“Yes, Shorsha dear!”</p> +<p>“I have a pack of cards.”</p> +<p>“You don’t say so, Shorsha ma vourneen?—you +don’t say that you have cards fifty-two?”</p> +<p>“I do, though; and they are quite new—never been +once used.”</p> +<p>“And you’ll be lending them to me, I +warrant?”</p> +<p>“Don’t think it!—But I’ll sell them to +you, joy, if you like.”</p> +<p>“Hanam mon Dioul! am I not after telling you that I have +no money at all?”</p> +<p>“But you have as good as money, to me, at least; and +I’ll take it in exchange.”</p> +<p>“What’s that, Shorsha dear?”</p> +<p>“Irish!”</p> +<p>“Irish?”</p> +<p>“Yes, you speak Irish; I heard you talking it the other +day to the cripple. You shall teach me Irish.”</p> +<p>“And is it a language-master you’d be making of +me?”</p> +<p>“To be sure!—what better can you do?—it +would help you to pass your time at school. You can’t +learn Greek, so you must teach Irish!”</p> +<p>Before Christmas, Murtagh was playing at cards with his +brother Denis, and I could speak a considerable quantity of +broken Irish. <a name="citation34"></a><a href="#footnote34" +class="citation">[34]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>With what distrust as we learn again and again in +<i>Lavengro</i> did Captain Borrow follow his son’s +inclination towards languages, and especially the Irish language, +in his early years, although anxious that he should be well +grounded in Latin. Little did the worthy Captain dream that +this, and this alone, was to carry down his name through the +ages:</p> +<blockquote><p>Ah, that Irish! How frequently do +circumstances, at first sight the most trivial and unimportant, +exercise a mighty and permanent influence on our habits and +pursuits!—how frequently is a stream turned aside from its +natural course by some little rock or knoll, causing it to make +an abrupt turn! On a wild <a name="page35"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 35</span>road in Ireland I had heard Irish +spoken for the first time; and I was seized with a desire to +learn Irish, the acquisition of which, in my case, became the +stepping-stone to other languages. I had previously learnt +Latin, or rather Lilly; but neither Latin nor Lilly made me a +philologist.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow was never a philologist, but this first inclination for +Irish was to lead him later to Spanish, to Welsh, and above all +to Romany, and to make of him the most beloved traveller and the +strangest vagabond in all English literature.</p> +<h2><a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +36</span>CHAPTER V<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Gurneys and the Taylors of +Norwich</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Norwich</span> may claim to be one of the +most fascinating cities in the kingdom. To-day it is known +to the wide world by its canaries and its mustard, although its +most important industry is the boot trade, in which it employs +some eight thousand persons. To the visitor it has many +attractions. The lovely cathedral with its fine Norman +arches, the Erpingham Gate so splendidly Gothic, the noble Castle +Keep so imposingly placed with the cattle-market +below—these are all as Borrow saw them nearly a century +ago. So also is the church of St. Peter Mancroft, where Sir +Thomas Browne lies buried. And to the picturesque Mousehold +Heath you may still climb and recall one of the first struggles +for liberty and progress that past ages have seen, the Norfolk +rising under Robert Kett which has only not been glorified in +song and in picture, because—</p> +<blockquote><p>Treason doth never prosper—what’s the +reason?<br /> +Why if it prosper none dare call it treason.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And Kett’s so-called rebellion was destined to failure, +and its leader to cruel martyrdom. Mousehold Heath has been +made the subject of paintings by Turner and Crome, and of fine +word pictures by George Borrow. When Borrow and his parents +lighted upon Norwich in 1814 and 1816 the city had inspiring +literary associations. Before the invention of railways it +seemed not uncommon for a fine intellectual life to emanate from +this or that cathedral city. Such an intellectual life was +associated with Lichfield when the Darwins and the Edgeworths +gathered at the Bishop’s Palace around Dr. Seward and his +accomplished daughters. Norwich has more than once been +such a centre. The first occasion was in the period of +which we write, when the Taylors and the Gurneys flourished in a +region of ideas; the second was during the years from 1837 to +1849, when <a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +37</span>Edward Stanley held the bishopric. This later +period does not come into our story, as by that time Borrow had +all but left Norwich. But of the earlier period, the period +of Borrow’s more or less fitful residence in +Norwich—1814 to 1833—we are tempted to write at some +length. There were three separate literary and social +forces in Norwich in the first decades of the nineteenth +century—the Gurneys of Earlham, the Taylor-Austin group, +and William Taylor, who was in no way related to Mrs. John Taylor +and her daughter, Sarah Austin. The Gurneys were truly a +remarkable family, destined to leave their impress upon Norwich +and upon a wider world. At the time of his marriage in 1773 +to Catherine Bell, John Gurney, wool-stapler of Norwich, took his +young wife, whose face has been preserved in a canvas by +Gainsborough, to live in the old Court House in Magdalen Street, +which had been the home of two generations of the Gurney +family. In 1786 John Gurney went with his continually +growing family to live at Earlham Hall, some two or three miles +out of Norwich on the Earlham Road. Here that family of +eleven children—one boy had died in infancy—grew +up. Not one but has an interesting history, which is +recorded by Mr. Augustus Hare and other writers. Elizabeth, +the fourth daughter, married Joseph Fry, and as Elizabeth Fry +attained to a world-wide fame as a prison reformer. Hannah +married Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton of Slave Trade Abolition; +Richenda, the Rev. Francis Cunningham, who sent George Borrow +upon his career; while Louisa married Samuel Hoare of +Hampstead. Of her Joseph John Gurney said at her death in +1836 that she was “superior in point of talent to any other +of my father’s eleven children.” It is with the +eleventh child, however, that we have mainly to do, for this son, +Joseph John Gurney, alone appears in Borrow’s pages. +The picture of these eleven Quaker children growing up to their +various destinies under the roof of Earlham Hall is an attractive +one. Men and women of all creeds accepted the catholic +Quaker’s hospitality. Mrs. Opie and a long list of +worthies of the past come before us, and when Mr. Gurney, in +1802, took his six unmarried daughters to the Lakes Old Crome +accompanied them as drawing-master.</p> +<p>In 1803—the year of Borrow’s birth—John +Gurney became a partner in the great London Bank of Overend <a +name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span>and Gurney, +and his son, Joseph John, in that same year went up to +Oxford. In 1809 Joseph returned to take his place in the +bank, and to preside over the family of unmarried sisters at +Earlham, father and mother being dead, and many members of the +family distributed. Incidentally, we are told by Mr. Hare +that the Gurneys of Earlham at this time drove out with four +black horses, and that when Bishop Bathurst, Stanley’s +predecessor, required horses for State occasions to drive him to +the cathedral, he borrowed these, and the more modest episcopal +horses took the Quaker family to their meeting-house. It +does not come within the scope of this book to trace the fortunes +of these eleven remarkable Gurney children, or even of +Borrow’s momentary acquaintance, Joseph John Gurney. +His residence at Earlham, and his life of philanthropy, are a +romance in a way, although one wonders whether if the name of +Gurney had not been associated with so much of virtue and +goodness the crash that came long after Joseph John +Gurney’s death would have been quite so full of affliction +for a vast multitude. Joseph John Gurney died in 1847, in +his fifty-ninth year; his sister, Mrs. Fry, had died two years +earlier. The younger brother and twelfth child—Joseph +John being the eleventh—Daniel Gurney, the last of the +twelve children, lived till 1880, aged eighty-nine. He had +outlived by many years the catastrophe to the great banking firm +with which the name of Gurney is associated. This great +firm of Overend and Gurney, of which yet another brother, Samuel, +was the moving spirit, was organised nine years after his +death—in 1865—into a joint-stock company, which +failed to the amount of eleven millions in 1866. At the +time of the failure, which affected all England, much as did the +Liberator smash a generation later, the only Gurney in the +directorate was Daniel Gurney, to whom his sister, Lady Buxton, +allowed a pension of £2000 a year. This is a long +story to tell by way of introduction to one episode in +<i>Lavengro</i>. This episode had place in the year 1817, +when Borrow was but fourteen years of age and Gurney was +twenty-nine. It is doubtful if Borrow met Joseph John +Gurney more than on the one occasion. At the commencement +of his engagement with the Bible Society he writes to its +secretary, Mr. Jowett (18th March, 1833), to say that he must +procure from Mr. Cunningham “a letter of introduction from +him to John <a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span>Gurney,” and this second and last interview must +have taken place at Earlham before his departure for Russia.</p> +<p>But if Borrow was to come very little under the influence of +Joseph John Gurney, his destiny was to be considerably moulded by +the action of Gurney’s brother-in-law, Cunningham, who +first put him in touch with the Bible Society. Joseph John +Gurney and his sisters were the very life of the Bible Society in +those years.</p> +<p>With the famous “Taylors of Norwich” Borrow seems +to have had no acquaintance, although he went to school with a +connection of that family, James Martineau. These socially +important Taylors were in no way related to William Taylor of +that city, who knew German literature, and scandalised the more +virtuous citizens by that, and perhaps more by his fondness for +wine and also for good English beer—a drink over which his +friend Borrow was to become lyrical. When people speak of +the Norwich Taylors they refer to the family of Dr. John Taylor, +who in 1733 was elected to the charge of the Presbyterian +congregation in Norwich. His eldest son, Richard, married +Margaret, the daughter of a mayor of Norwich of the name of +Meadows; and Sarah, another daughter of that same worshipful +mayor, married David Martineau, grandson of Gaston Martineau, who +fled from France at the time of the Revocation of the Edict of +Nantes. <a name="citation39"></a><a href="#footnote39" +class="citation">[39]</a> Harriet and James Martineau were +grandchildren of this David. The second son of Richard and +Margaret Taylor was John, who married Susannah Cook. +Susannah is the clever Mrs. John Taylor of this story, and her +daughter of even greater ability was Sarah Austin, the wife of +the famous jurist. Here we are only concerned with Mrs. +John Taylor, called by her friends the “Madame Roland of +Norwich.” Lucy Aikin describes how she “darned +her boy’s grey worsted stockings while holding her own with +Southey, Brougham, or Mackintosh.” One of her +daughters married Henry Reeve, and, as I have said, another +married John Austin. Borrow was twenty years of age and +living in Norwich when Mrs. Taylor died. It is to be +regretted that in the early impressionable years his position as +a lawyer’s clerk did not allow of his coming into a circle +in which he might have gained certain qualities of <i>savoir +faire</i> and <i>joie de vivre</i>, which he was all his days to +lack. Of the Taylor family <a name="page40"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 40</span>the Duke of Sussex said that they +reversed the ordinary saying that it takes nine tailors to make a +man. The witticism has been attributed to Sydney Smith, but +Mrs. Ross gives evidence that it was the Duke’s—the +youngest son of George III. In his <i>Life of Sir James +Mackintosh</i> Basil Montagu, referring to Mrs. John Taylor, +says:</p> +<blockquote><p>Norwich was always a haven of rest to us, from the +literary society with which that city abounded. Dr. Sayers +we used to visit, and the high-minded and intelligent William +Taylor; but our chief delight was in the society of Mrs. John +Taylor, a most intelligent and excellent woman, mild and +unassuming, quiet and meek, sitting amidst her large family, +occupied with her needle and domestic occupations, but always +assisting, by her great knowledge, the advancement of kind and +dignified sentiment and conduct.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We note here the reference to “the high-minded and +intelligent William Taylor,” because William Taylor, whose +influence upon Borrow’s destiny was so pronounced, has been +revealed to many by the slanders of Harriet Martineau, that +extraordinary compound of meanness and generosity, of +poverty-stricken intelligence and rich endowment. In her +<i>Autobiography</i>, published in 1877, thirty-four years after +Robberds’s <i>Memoir of William Taylor</i>, she dwells upon +the drinking propensities of William Taylor, who was a +schoolfellow of her father’s. She admits, indeed, +that Taylor was an ideal son, whose “exemplary filial duty +was a fine spectacle to the whole city.”</p> +<p>William Taylor’s life is pleasantly interlinked with +Scott and Southey. Lucy Aikin records that she heard Sir +Walter Scott declare to Mrs. Barbauld that Taylor had laid the +foundations of his literary career—had started him upon the +path of glory through romantic verse to romantic prose, from +<i>The Lay of the Last Minstrel</i> to <i>Waverley</i>. It +was the reading of Taylor’s translation of +Bürger’s <i>Lenore</i> that did all this. +“This, madam,” said Scott, “was what made me a +poet. I had several times attempted the more regular kinds +of poetry without success, but here was something that I thought +I could do.” Southey assuredly loved Taylor, and each +threw at the feet of the other the abundant literary learning +that both possessed. This we find in a correspondence +which, reading more than a century after it was written, still +has its charm. The son of a wealthy manufacturer of <a +name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>Norwich, +Taylor was born in that city in 1765. He was in early years +a pupil of Mrs. Barbauld. At fourteen he was placed in his +father’s counting-house, and soon afterwards was sent +abroad, in the company of one of the partners, to acquire +languages. He learnt German thoroughly at a time when few +Englishmen had acquaintance with its literature. To +Goethe’s genius he never did justice, having been offended +by that great man’s failure to acknowledge a book that +Taylor sent to him, exactly as Carlyle and Borrow alike were +afterwards offended by similar delinquencies on the part of +Walter Scott. When he settled again in Norwich he commenced +to write for the magazines, among others for Sir Richard +Phillips’s <i>Monthly Magazine</i>, and to correspond with +Southey. At the time Southey was a poor man, thinking of +abandoning literature for the law, and hopeful of practising in +Calcutta. The Norwich Liberals, however, aspired to a +newspaper to be called <i>The Iris</i>. Taylor asked +Southey to come to Norwich and to become its editor. +Southey declined and Taylor took up the task, The <i>Norwich +Iris</i> lasted for two years. Southey never threw over his +friendship for Taylor, although their views ultimately came to be +far apart. Writing to Taylor in 1803 he says:</p> +<blockquote><p>Your theology does nothing but mischief; it serves +only to thin the miserable ranks of Unitarianism. The +regular troops of infidelity do little harm; and their +trumpeters, such as Voltaire and Paine, not much more. But +it is such pioneers as Middleton, and you and your German +friends, that work underground and sap the very citadel. +That <i>Monthly Magazine</i> is read by all the +Dissenters—I call it the Dissenters’ +Obituary—and here are you eternally mining, mining, under +the shallow faith of their half-learned, half-witted, half-paid, +half-starved pastors.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But the correspondence went on apace, indeed it occupies the +larger part of Robberds’s two substantial volumes. It +is in the very last letter from Taylor to Southey that we find an +oft-quoted reference to Borrow. The letter is dated 12th +March, 1821:</p> +<blockquote><p>A Norwich young man is construing with me +Schiller’s <i>Wilhelm Tell</i> with the view of translating +it for the Press. His name is George Henry Borrow, and he +has learnt German with extraordinary rapidity; indeed, he has the +gift of tongues, and, though not yet eighteen, understands twelve +languages—English, <a name="page42"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 42</span>Welsh, Erse, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, +German, Danish, French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese; he +would like to get into the Office for Foreign Affairs, but does +not know how.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Although this was the last letter to Southey that is published +in the memoir, Taylor visited Southey at Keswick in 1826. +Taylor’s three volumes of the <i>Historic Survey of German +Poetry</i> appeared in 1828, 1829, and 1830. Sir Walter +Scott, in the last year of his life, wrote from Abbotsford on +23rd April, 1832, to Taylor to protest against an allusion to +“William Scott of Edinburgh” being the author of a +translation of <i>Goetz von Berlichingen</i>. Scott +explained that he (Walter Scott) was that author, and also made +allusion to the fact that he had borrowed with acknowledgment two +lines from Taylor’s <i>Lenore</i> for his own—</p> +<blockquote><p>Tramp, tramp along the land,<br /> +Splash, splash across the sea,</p> +</blockquote> +<p>adding that his recollection of the obligation was infinitely +stronger than of the mistake. It would seem, however, that +the name “William” was actually on the title-page of +the London edition of 1799 of <i>Goetz von +Berlichingen</i>. When Southey heard of the death of Taylor +in 1836 he wrote:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was not aware of my old friend’s illness, +or I should certainly have written to him, to express that +unabated regard which I have felt for him eight-and-thirty years, +and that hope which I shall ever feel, that we may meet in the +higher state of existence. I have known very few who +equalled him in talents—none who had a kinder heart; and +there never lived a more dutiful son, or a sincerer friend.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Taylor’s many books are now all forgotten. His +translation of Bürger’s <i>Lenore</i> one now only +recalls by its effect upon Scott; his translation of +Lessing’s <i>Nathan the Wise</i> has been superseded. +His voluminous <i>Historic Survey of German Poetry</i> only lives +through Carlyle’s severe review in the <i>Edinburgh +Review</i> <a name="citation42"></a><a href="#footnote42" +class="citation">[42]</a> against the many strictures in which +Taylor’s biographer attempts to defend him. Taylor +had none of Carlyle’s inspiration. Not a line of his +work survives in print in our day, but it was no small thing to +have been the friend and correspondent of Southey, whose figure +in literary history looms larger now than it did when <a +name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>Emerson asked +contemptuously, “Who’s Southey?”; and to have +been the wise mentor of George Borrow is in itself to be no small +thing in the record of letters. There is a considerable +correspondence between Taylor and Sir Richard Phillips in +Robberds’s <i>Memoir</i>, and Phillips seemed always +anxious to secure articles from Taylor for the <i>Monthly</i>, +and even books for his publishing-house. Hence the +introduction from Taylor that Borrow carried to London might have +been most effective if Phillips had had any use for poor and +impracticable would-be authors.</p> +<h2><a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +44</span>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<span class="smcap">At the Norwich Grammar School</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> George Borrow first entered +Norwich after the long journey from Edinburgh, Joseph John +Gurney, born 1788, was twenty-six years of age, and William +Taylor, born 1765, was forty-nine. Borrow was eleven years +of age. Captain Borrow took temporary lodgings at the Crown +and Angel Inn in St. Stephen’s Street, George was sent to +the Grammar School, and his elder brother started to learn +drawing and painting with John Crome (“Old Crome”) of +many a fine landscape. But the wanderings of the family +were not yet over. Napoleon escaped from Elba, and the West +Norfolk Militia were again put on the march. This time it +was Ireland to which they were destined, and we have already +shadowed forth, with the help of <i>Lavengro</i>, that momentous +episode. The victory of Waterloo gave Europe peace, and in +1816 the Borrow family returned to Norwich, there to pass many +quiet years. In 1819 Captain Borrow was +pensioned—eight shillings a day. From 1816 till his +father’s death in 1824 Borrow lived in Norwich with his +family. Their home was in King’s Court, Willow Lane, +a modest one-storey house in a <i>cul-de-sac</i>, which we have +already described. In King’s Court, Willow Lane, +Borrow lived at intervals until his marriage in 1840, and his +mother continued to live in the house until, in 1849, she agreed +to join her son and daughter-in-law at Oulton. Yet the +house comes little into the story of Borrow’s life, as do +the early houses of many great men of letters, nor do subsequent +houses come into his story; the house at Oulton and the house at +Hereford Square are equally barren of association; the broad +highway and the windy heath were Borrow’s natural +home. He was never a “civilised” being; he +never shone in drawing-rooms. Let us, however, return to +Borrow’s school-days, of which the records are all too +scanty, and not in the least invigorating. <a +name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>The Norwich +Grammar School has an interesting tradition. We pass to the +cathedral through the beautiful Erpingham Gate built about 1420 +by Sir Thomas Erpingham, and we find the school on the +left. It was originally a chapel, and the porch is at least +five hundred years old. The schoolroom is sufficiently +old-world-looking for us to imagine the schoolboys of past +generations sitting at the various desks. The school was +founded in 1547, but the registers have been lost, and so we know +little of its famous pupils of earlier days. Lord Nelson +and Rajah Brooke are the two names of men of action that stand +out most honourably in modern times among the scholars. In +literature Borrow had but one schoolfellow, who afterwards came +to distinction—James Martineau. Borrow’s +headmaster was the Reverend Edward Valpy, who held the office +from 1810 to 1829, and to whom is credited the destruction of the +school archives. Borrow’s two years of the Grammar +School were not happy ones. Borrow, as we have shown, was +not of the stuff of which happy schoolboys are made. He had +been a wanderer—Scotland, Ireland, and many parts of +England had assisted in a fragmentary education; he was now +thirteen years of age, and already a vagabond at heart. But +let us hear Dr. Augustus Jessopp, who was headmaster of the same +Grammar School from 1859 to 1879. Writing of a meeting of +old Norvicensians to greet the Rajah, Sir James Brooke, in 1858, +when there was a great “whip” of the “old +boys,” Dr. Jessopp tells us that Borrow, then living at +Yarmouth, did not put in an appearance among his +schoolfellows:</p> +<blockquote><p>My belief is that he never was popular among them, +that he never attained a high place in the school, and he was a +“free boy.” In those days there were a certain +number of day boys at Norwich school, who were nominated by +members of the Corporation, and who paid no tuition fees; they +had to submit to a certain amount of snubbing at the hands of the +boarders, who for the most part were the sons of the county +gentry. Of course, such a proud boy as George Borrow would +resent this, and it seems to have rankled with him all through +his life. . . . To talk of Borrow as a +“scholar” is absurd. “A picker-up of +learning’s crumbs” he was, but he was absolutely +without any of the training or the instincts of a scholar. +He had had little education till he came to Norwich, and was at +the Grammar School little more than two years. It is pretty +certain that he knew no Greek when he entered there, and he never +seems to have acquired more than the elements of that +language.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>Yet the +only real influence that Borrow carried away from the Grammar +School was concerned with foreign languages. He did take to +the French master and exiled priest, Thomas d’Eterville, a +native of Caen, who had emigrated to Norwich in 1793. +D’Eterville taught French, Italian, and apparently, to +Borrow, a little Spanish; and Borrow, with his wonderful memory, +must have been his favourite pupil. In the fourteenth and +fifteenth chapters of <i>Lavengro</i> he is pleasantly described +by his pupil, who adds, with characteristic “bluff,” +that d’Eterville said “on our arrival at the +conclusion of Dante’s <i>Hell</i>, ‘vous serez un +jour un grand philologue, mon cher.’”</p> +<p>Borrow’s biographers have dwelt at length upon one +episode of his schooldays—the flogging he received from +Valpy for playing truant with three other boys. One, by +name John Dalrymple, faltered on the way, the two faithful +followers of George in his escapade being two brothers named +Theodosius and Francis Purland, whose father kept a +chemist’s shop in Norwich. The three boys wandered +away as far as Acle, eleven miles from Norwich, whence they were +ignominiously brought back and birched. John +Dalrymple’s brother Arthur, son of a distinguished Norwich +surgeon, who became Clerk of the Peace at Norwich in 1854, and +died in 1868, has left a memorandum concerning Borrow, from which +I take the following extract:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was at school with Borrow at the Free School, +Norwich, under the Rev. E. Valpy. He was an odd, wild boy, +and always wanting to turn Robinson Crusoe or Buccaneer. My +brother John was about Borrow’s age, and on one occasion +Borrow, John, and another, whose name I forget, determined to run +away and turn pirates. John carried an old horse pistol and +some potatoes as his contribution to the general stock, but his +zeal was soon exhausted, he turned back at Thorpe Lunatic Asylum; +but Borrow went off to Yarmouth, and lived on the Caister Denes +for a few days. I don’t remember hearing of any +exploits. He had a wonderful facility for learning +languages, which, however, he never appears to have turned to +account.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>James Martineau, afterwards a popular preacher and a +distinguished theologian of the Unitarian creed, here comes into +the story. He was a contemporary with Borrow at the Norwich +Grammar School as already stated, but the two boys had little in +common. There was nothing of the vagabond about James +Martineau, and concerning Borrow—<a name="page47"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 47</span>if on no other subject—he would +probably have agreed with his sister Harriet, whose views we +shall quote in a later chapter. In Martineau’s +<i>Memoirs</i>, voluminous and dull, there is only one reference +to Borrow; <a name="citation47"></a><a href="#footnote47" +class="citation">[47]</a> but a correspondent once ventured to +approach the eminent divine concerning the rumour as to +Martineau’s part in the birching of the author of <i>The +Bible in Spain</i>, and received the following letter:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">35 <span +class="smcap">Gordon Square</span>, <span +class="smcap">London</span>, W.C., <i>December</i> 6, 1895.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—Two or three years +ago Mr. Egmont Hake (author, I think, of a life of Gordon) sought +an interview with me, as reputed to be Borrow’s sole +surviving schoolfellow, in order to gather information or test +traditions about his schooldays. This was with a view to a +memoir which he was compiling, he said, out of the literary +remains which had been committed to him by his executors. I +communicated to him such recollections as I could clearly depend +upon and leave at his disposal for publication or for suppression +as he might think fit. Under these circumstances I feel +that they are rightfully his, and that I am restrained from +placing them at disposal elsewhere unless and until he renounces +his claim upon them. But though I cannot repeat them at +length for public use, I am not precluded from correcting +inaccuracies in stories already in circulation, and may therefore +say that Mr. Arthur Dalrymple’s version of the Yarmouth +escapade is wrong in making his brother John a partner in the +transaction. John had quite too much sense for that; the +only victims of Borrow’s romance were two or three silly +boys—mere lackeys of Borrow’s commanding +will—who helped him to make up a kit for the common +knapsack by pilferings out of their fathers’ shops.</p> +<p>The Norwich gentleman who fell in with the boys lying in the +hedgerow near the half-way inn knew one of them, and wormed out +of him the drift of their enterprise, and engaging a postchaise +packed them all into it, and in his gig saw them safe home.</p> +<p>It is true that I had to <i>hoist</i> (not +“horse”) Borrow for his flogging, but not that there +was anything exceptional or capable of leaving permanent scars in +the infliction. Mr. Valpy was not given to excess of that +kind.</p> +<p>I have never read <i>Lavengro</i>, and cannot give any opinion +about the correct spelling of the “Exul sacerdos” +name.</p> +<p>Borrow’s romance and William Taylor’s love of +paradox would doubtless often run together, like a pair of +well-matched steeds, and carry them away in the same +direction. But there was a strong—almost +wild—<i>religious</i> sentiment in Borrow, of which only +faint traces appear in W. T. In Borrow it had always a +tendency to pass from a sympathetic to an antipathetic +form. He <a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +48</span>used to gather about him three or four favourite +schoolfellows, after they had learned their class lesson and +before the class was called up, and with a sheet of paper and +book on his knee, invent and tell a story, making rapid little +pictures of each <i>dramatis persona</i> that came upon the +stage. The plot was woven and spread out with much +ingenuity, and the characters were various and well +discriminated. But two of them were sure to turn up in +every tale, the Devil and the Pope, and the working of the drama +invariably had the same issue—the utter ruin and disgrace +of these two potentates. I had often thought that there was +a presage here of the mission which produced <i>The Bible in +Spain.</i>—I am, dear sir, very truly yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">James +Martineau</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Yet it is amusing to trace the story through various +phases. Dr. Martineau’s letter was the outcome of his +attention being called to a statement made in a letter written by +a lady in Hampstead to a friend in Norwich, which runs as +follows:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">11<i>th</i> Nov. +1893.</p> +<p>Dr. Martineau, to amuse some boys at a school treat, told us +about George Borrow, his schoolfellow: he was always reading +adventures of smugglers and pirates, etc., and at last, to carry +out his ideas, got a set of his schoolfellows to promise to join +him in an expedition to Yarmouth, where he had heard of a ship +that he thought would take them. The boys saved all the +food they could from their meals, and what money they had, and +one morning started very early to walk to Yarmouth. They +got halfway—to Blofield, I think—when they were so +tired they had to rest by the roadside, and eat their +lunch. While they were resting a gentleman, whose son was +at the Free School, passed in his gig. He thought it was +very odd so many boys, some of whom he had seen, should be +waiting about, so he drove back and asked them if they would come +to dine with him at the inn. Of course they were only too +glad, poor boys: but as soon as he had got them all in he sent +his servant with a letter to Mr. Valpy, who sent a coach and +brought them all back. You know what a cruel man that Dr. +V. was. He made Dr. Martineau take poor Borrow on his back, +“horse him,” I think he called it, and flogged him so +that Dr. M. said he would carry the marks for the rest of his +life, and he had to keep his bed for a fortnight. The other +boys got off with lighter punishment, but Borrow was the +ringleader. Those were the “good old +times”! I have heard Dr. M. say that not for another +life would he go through the misery he suffered as “town +boy” at that school.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Miss Frances Power Cobbe, who lived next door to Borrow in +Hereford Square, Brompton, in the ’sixties, as we shall see +later, has a word to say on the point:</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +49</span>Dr. Martineau once told me that he and Borrow had been +schoolfellows at Norwich some sixty years before. Borrow +had persuaded several of his other companions to rob their +fathers’ tills, and then the party set forth to join some +smugglers on the coast. By degrees the truants all fell out +of line and were picked up, tired and hungry, along the road, and +brought back to Norwich School, where condign chastisement +awaited them. George Borrow, it seems, received his large +share <i>horsed</i> on James Martineau’s back! The +early connection between the two old men, as I knew them, was +irresistibly comic to my mind. Somehow when I asked Mr. +Borrow once to come and meet some friends at our house he +accepted our invitation as usual, but, on finding that Dr. +Martineau was to be of the party, hastily withdrew his acceptance +on a transparent excuse; nor did he ever after attend our little +assemblies without first ascertaining that Dr. Martineau was not +to be present. <a name="citation49"></a><a href="#footnote49" +class="citation">[49]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Valpy of the Norwich Grammar School is scarcely to be +blamed that he was not able to make separate rules for a quite +abnormal boy. Yet, if he could have known, Borrow was +better employed playing truant and living up to his life-work as +a glorified vagabond than in studying in the ordinary school +routine. George Borrow belonged to a type of +boy—there are many such—who learn much more out of +school than in its bounds; and the boy Borrow, picking up brother +vagabonds in Tombland Fair, and already beginning, in his own +peculiar way, his language craze, was laying the foundations that +made <i>Lavengro</i> possible.</p> +<h2><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>CHAPTER VII<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Lawyer’s Office</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Doubts</span> were very frequently +expressed in Borrow’s lifetime as to his having really been +articled to a solicitor, but that point has been set at rest by +reference to the Record Office. Borrow was articled to +Simpson and Rackham of Tuck’s Court, St. Giles’s, +Norwich, “for the term of five years”—from +March, 1819, to March, 1824,—and these five years were +spent in and about Norwich, and were full of adventure of a kind +with which the law had nothing to do. If Borrow had had the +makings of a lawyer he could not have entered the profession +under happier auspices. The firm was an old established one +even in his day. It had been established in Tuck’s +Court as Simpson and Rackham, then it became Rackham and Morse, +Rackham, Cooke and Rackham, and Rackham and Cooke; finally, Tom +Rackham, a famous Norwich man in his day, moved to another +office, and the firm of lawyers who at present occupy the +original offices is called Leathes Prior and Sons. Borrow +has told us frankly what a poor lawyer’s clerk he +made—he was always thinking of things remote from that +profession, of gypsies, of prize-fighters, and of +word-makers. Yet he loved the head of the firm, William +Simpson, who must have been a kind and tolerant guide to the +curious youth. Simpson was for a time Town Clerk of +Norwich, and his portrait hangs in the Blackfriars Hall. +Borrow went to live with Mr. Simpson in the Upper Close near the +Grammar School. Archdeacon Groome recalled having seen +Borrow “reserved and solitary” haunting the precincts +of the playground; another schoolboy, William Drake, remembered +him as “tall, spare, dark-complexioned.” <a +name="citation50"></a><a href="#footnote50" +class="citation">[50]</a></p> +<p>Borrow tells us how at this time he studied the Welsh language +and later the Danish; his master said that his inattention would +assuredly make him a bankrupt, and his father sighed over his +eccentric and impracticable son. <a name="page51"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 51</span>The passion for languages had indeed +caught hold of Borrow. Among my Borrow papers I find a +memorandum in the handwriting of his stepdaughter, in which she +says:</p> +<blockquote><p>I have often heard his mother say, that when a +mere child of eight or nine years, all his pocket-money was spent +in purchasing foreign Dictionaries and Grammars; he formed an +acquaintance with an old woman who kept a bookstall in the +market-place of Norwich, whose son went voyages to Holland with +cattle, and brought home Dutch books, which were eagerly bought +by little George. One day the old woman was crying, and +told him that her son was in prison. “For doing +what?” asked the child. “For taking a silk +handkerchief out of a gentleman’s pocket.” +“Then,” said the boy, “your son stole the +pocket handkerchief?” “No dear, no, my son did +not steal,—he only glyfaked.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We have no difficulty in recognising here the heroine of the +Moll Flanders episode in <i>Lavengro</i>. But it was not +from casual meetings with Welsh grooms and Danes and Dutchmen +that Borrow acquired even such command of various languages as +was undoubtedly his. We have it on the authority of an old +fellow-pupil at the Grammar School, Burcham, afterwards a London +police-magistrate, that William Taylor gave him lessons in +German, <a name="citation51"></a><a href="#footnote51" +class="citation">[51]</a> but he acquired most of his varied +knowledge in these impressionable years in the Corporation +Library of Norwich. Dr. Knapp found, in his very laudable +examination of some of the books, Borrow’s neat pencil +notes, the making of which was not laudable on the part of his +hero. One book here marked was on ancient Danish +literature, the author of which, Olaus Wormius, gave him the hint +for calling himself Olaus Borrow for a time—a signature +that we find in some of Borrow’s published +translations. Borrow at this time had aspirations of a +literary kind, and Thomas Campbell accepted a translation of +Schiller’s <i>Diver</i>, which was sighed “O. +B.” There were also translations from the German, +Dutch, Swedish, and Danish, in the <i>Monthly Magazine</i>. +Clearly Borrow was becoming a formidable linguist, if not a very +exact master of words. Still he remained a vagabond, and +loved to wander over Mousehold Heath, to the gypsy encampment, +and to make friends with the Romany folk; he loved also to haunt +the horse fairs for which Norwich was so celebrated; and he was +not averse from the companionship of wilder spirits <a +name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>who loved +pugilism, if we may trust <i>Lavengro</i>, and if we may assume, +as we justly may, that he many times cast youthful, sympathetic +eyes on John Thurtell in these years, the to-be murderer of +Weare, then actually living with his father in a house on the +Ipswich Road, Thurtell, the father, being in no mean position in +the city—an alderman, and a sheriff in 1815. Yes, +there was plenty to do and to see in Norwich, and Borrow’s +memories of it were nearly always kindly.</p> +<p>At the very centre of Borrow’s Norwich life was William +Taylor, concerning whom we have already written much. It +was a Jew named Mousha, a quack it appears, who pretended to know +German and Hebrew, and had but a smattering of either language, +who first introduced Borrow to Taylor, and there is a fine +dialogue between the two in <i>Lavengro</i>, of which this is the +closing fragment:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Are you happy?” said the young +man.</p> +<p>“Why, no! And, between ourselves, it is that which +induces me to doubt sometimes the truth of my opinions. My +life, upon the whole, I consider a failure; on which account, I +would not counsel you, or anyone, to follow my example too +closely. It is getting late, and you had better be going, +especially as your father, you say, is anxious about you. +But, as we may never meet again, I think there are three things +which I may safely venture to press upon you. The first is, +that the decencies and gentlenesses should never be lost sight +of, as the practice of the decencies and gentlenesses is at all +times compatible with independence of thought and action. +The second thing which I would wish to impress upon you is, that +there is always some eye upon us; and that it is impossible to +keep anything we do from the world, as it will assuredly be +divulged by somebody as soon as it is his interest to do +so. The third thing which I would wish to press upon +you—”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the youth, eagerly bending +forward.</p> +<p>“Is”—and here the elderly individual laid +down his pipe upon the table—“that it will be as well +to go on improving yourself in German!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Taylor it was who, when Borrow determined to try his fortunes +in London with those bundles of unsaleable manuscripts, gave him +introductions to Sir Richard Phillips and to Thomas +Campbell. It was in the agnostic spirit that he had learned +from Taylor that he wrote during this period to his one friend in +London, Roger Kerrison. Kerrison was grandson of Sir Roger +Kerrison, Mayor of Norwich in 1778, as his son Thomas was after +him in 1806. Roger was articled, <a name="page53"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 53</span>as was Borrow, to the firm of Simpson +and Rackham, while his brother Allday was in a drapery store in +Norwich, but with mind bent on commercial life in Mexico. +George was teaching him Spanish in these years as a preparation +for his great adventure. Roger had gone to London to +continue his professional experience. He finally became a +Norwich solicitor and died in 1882. Allday went to +Zacatecas, Mexico, and acquired riches. John Borrow +followed him there and met with an early death, as we have +seen. Borrow and Roger Kerrison were great friends at this +time; but when <i>Lavengro</i> was written they had ceased to be +this, and Roger is described merely as an +“acquaintance” who had found lodgings for him on his +first visit to London. As a matter of fact that trip to +London was made easy for Borrow by the opportunity given to him +of sharing lodgings with Roger Kerrison at Milman Street, Bedford +Row, where Borrow put in an appearance on 1st April, 1824, some +two months after the following letter was written:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mr. Roger Kerrison</span>, 18 <span class="smcap">Milman +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Bedford Row</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, +<i>Jany.</i> 20, 1824.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Roger</span>,—I did not +imagine when we separated in the street, on the day of your +departure from Norwich, that we should not have met again: I had +intended to have come and seen you off, but happening to dine at +W. Barron’s I got into discourse, and the hour slipt past +me unawares.</p> +<p>I have been again for the last fortnight laid up with that +detestable complaint which destroys my strength, impairs my +understanding, and will in all probability send me to the grave, +for I am now much worse than when you saw me last. But +<i>nil desperandum est</i>, if ever my health mends, and possibly +it may by the time my clerkship is expired, I intend to live in +London, write plays, poetry, etc., abuse religion and get myself +prosecuted, for I would not for an ocean of gold remain any +longer than I am forced in this dull and gloomy town.</p> +<p>I have no news to regale you with, for there is none abroad, +but I live in the expectation of shortly hearing from you, and +being informed of your plans and projects; fear not to be prolix, +for the slightest particular cannot fail of being interesting to +one who loves you far better than parent or relation, or even +than the God whom bigots would teach him to adore, and who +subscribes himself, Yours unalterably,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow might improve his German—not sufficiently, as we +shall see in our next chapter—but he would certainly <a +name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>never make a +lawyer. Long years afterwards, when, as an old man, he was +frequently in Norwich, he not seldom called at that office in +Tuck’s Court, where five strange years of his life had been +spent. A clerk in Rackham’s office in these later +years recalls him waiting for the principal as he in his youth +had watched others waiting. <a name="citation54"></a><a +href="#footnote54" class="citation">[54]</a></p> +<h2><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +55</span>CHAPTER VIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">An Old-Time Publisher</span></h2> +<blockquote><p>“<i>That’s a strange man</i>!” +<i>said I to myself</i>, <i>after I had left the house</i>, +“<i>he is evidently very clever</i>; <i>but I cannot say +that I like him much with his Oxford Reviews and Dairyman’s +Daughters</i>.”—<span +class="smcap">Lavengro</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrow</span> lost his father on the 28th +February, 1824. He reached London on the 2nd April of the +same year, and this was the beginning of his many +wanderings. He was armed with introductions from William +Taylor, and with some translations in manuscript from Danish and +Welsh poetry. The principal introduction was to Sir Richard +Phillips, a person of some importance in his day, who has so far +received but inadequate treatment in our own. Phillips was +active in the cause of reform at a certain period in his life, +and would seem to have had many sterling qualities before he was +spoiled by success. He was born in the neighbourhood of +Leicester, and his father was “in the farming line,” +and wanted him to work on the farm, but he determined to seek his +fortune in London. After a short absence, during which he +clearly proved to himself that he was not at present qualified to +capture London, young Phillips returned to the farm. Borrow +refers to his patron’s vegetarianism, and on this point we +have an amusing story from his own pen! He had been, when +previously on the farm, in the habit of attending to a favourite +heifer:</p> +<blockquote><p>During his sojournment in London this animal had +been killed; and on the very day of his return to his +father’s house, he partook of part of his favourite at +dinner, without his being made acquainted with the circumstance +of its having been slaughtered during his absence. On +learning this, however, he experienced a sudden indisposition; +and declared that so great an effect had the idea of his having +eaten part of his slaughtered favourite upon him, that he would +never again taste animal food; a vow to which he has hitherto +firmly adhered.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Farming not being congenial, Phillips hired a small room in +Leicester, and opened a school for instruction in the three <a +name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>R’s, a +large blue flag on a pole being his “sign” or signal +to the inhabitants of Leicester, who seem to have sent their +children in considerable numbers to the young schoolmaster. +But little money was to be made out of schooling, and a year +later Phillips was, by the kindness of friends, started in a +small hosiery shop in Leicester. Throwing himself into +politics on the side of reform, Phillips now founded the +<i>Leicester Herald</i>, to which Dr. Priestley became a +contributor. The first number was issued gratis in May, +1792. His <i>Memoir</i> informs us that it was an article +in this newspaper that secured for its proprietor and editor +eighteen months’ imprisonment in Leicester gaol, but he was +really charged with selling Paine’s <i>Rights of +Man</i>. The worthy knight had probably grown ashamed of +<i>The Rights of Man</i> in the intervening years, and hence the +reticence of the memoir. Phillips’s gaoler was the +once famous Daniel Lambert, the notorious “fat man” +of his day. In gaol Phillips was visited by Lord Moira and +the Duke of Norfolk. It was this Lord Moira who said in the +House of Lords in 1797 that “he had seen in Ireland the +most absurd, as well as the most disgusting tyranny that any +nation ever groaned under.” Moira became +Governor-General of Bengal and Commander-in-Chief of the Army in +India. The Duke of Norfolk, a stanch Whig, distinguished +himself in 1798 by a famous toast at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, +Arundel Street, Strand:—“Our sovereign’s +health—the majesty of the people!” which greatly +offended George III., who removed Norfolk from his +lord-lieutenancy. Phillips seems to have had a very lax +imprisonment, as he conducted the <i>Herald</i> from gaol, +contributing in particular a weekly letter. Soon after his +release he disposed of the <i>Herald</i>, or permitted it to +die. It was revived a few years later as an organ of +Toryism. He had started in gaol another journal, <i>The +Museum</i>, and he combined this with his hosiery business for +some time longer, when an opportune fire relieved him of an +apparently uncongenial burden, and with the insurance money in +his pocket he set out for London once more. Here he started +as a hosier in St. Paul’s Churchyard, lodging meantime in +the house of a milliner, where he fell in love with one of the +apprentices, Miss Griffiths, “a native of +Wales.” His affections were won, we are naïvely +informed in the <i>Memoir</i>, by the young woman’s talent +in the preparation of a vegetable <a name="page57"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 57</span>pie. This is our first glimpse +of Lady Phillips—“a quiet, respectable woman,” +whom Borrow was to meet at dinner long years afterwards. +Inspired, it would seem, by the kindly exhortation of Dr. +Priestley, he now transformed his hosiery business in St. +Paul’s Churchyard into a “literary repository,” +and started a singularly successful career as a publisher. +There he produced his long-lived periodical, <i>The Monthly +Magazine</i>, which attained to so considerable a fame.</p> +<p>This, then, was the man to whom George Borrow presented +himself in 1824. Phillips was fifty-seven years of +age. He had made a moderate fortune and lost it, and was +now enjoying another perhaps less satisfying; it included the +profits of <i>The Monthly Magazine</i>, repurchased after his +bankruptcy, and some rights in many school-books. But the +great publishing establishment in Bridge Street had long been +broken up. Borrow would have found Taylor’s +introduction to Phillips quite useless had the worthy knight not +at the moment been keen on a new magazine and seen the importance +of a fresh “hack” to help to run it. Moreover, +had he not written a great book which only the Germans could +appreciate, <i>Twelve Essays on the Phenomena of +Nature</i>? Here, he thought, was the very man to produce +this book in a German dress. Taylor was a thorough German +scholar, and he had vouched for the excellent German of his pupil +and friend. Hence a certain cordiality which did not win +Borrow’s regard, but was probably greater than many a young +man would receive to-day from a publisher-prince upon whom he +might call laden only with a bundle of translations from the +Danish and the Welsh. Here—in +<i>Lavengro</i>—is the interview between publisher and +poet, with the editor’s factotum Bartlett, whom Borrow +calls Taggart, as witness:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Well, sir, what is your pleasure?” +said the big man, in a rough tone, as I stood there, looking at +him wistfully—as well I might—for upon that man, at +the time of which I am speaking, my principal, I may say my only +hopes, rested.</p> +<p>“Sir,” said I, “my name is So-and-so, and I +am the bearer of a letter to you from Mr. So-and-so, an old +friend and correspondent of yours.”</p> +<p>The countenance of the big man instantly lost the suspicious +and lowering expression which it had hitherto exhibited; he +strode forward and, seizing me by the hand, gave me a violent +squeeze.</p> +<p><a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +58</span>“My dear sir,” said he, “I am rejoiced +to see you in London. I have been long anxious for the +pleasure—we are old friends, though we have never before +met. Taggart,” said he to the man who sat at the +desk, “this is our excellent correspondent, the friend and +pupil of our excellent correspondent.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Phillips explains that he has given up publishing, except +“under the rose,” had only <i>The Monthly +Magazine</i>, here <a name="citation58"></a><a href="#footnote58" +class="citation">[58]</a> called <i>The Magazine</i>, but +contemplated yet another monthly, <i>The Universal Review</i>, +here called <i>The Oxford</i>. He gave Borrow much the same +sound advice that a publisher would have given him +to-day—that poetry is not a marketable commodity, and that +if you want to succeed in prose you must, as a rule, write +trash—the most acceptable trash of that day being <i>The +Dairyman’s Daughter</i>, which has sold in hundreds of +thousands, and is still much prized by the Evangelical folk who +buy the publications of the Religious Tract Society. +Phillips, moreover, asked him to dine to meet his wife, his son, +and his son’s wife, and we know what an amusing account of +that dinner Borrow gives in <i>Lavengro</i>. Moreover, he +set Borrow upon his first piece of hack-work, the <i>Celebrated +Trials</i>, and gave him something to do upon <i>The Universal +Review</i> and also upon <i>The Monthly</i>. <i>The +Universal</i> lasted only for six numbers, dying in January, +1825. In that year appeared the six volumes of the +<i>Celebrated Trials</i>, of which we have something to say in +our next chapter. Borrow found Phillips most exacting, +always suggesting the names of new criminals, and leaving it to +the much sweated author to find the books from which to extract +the necessary material. Then came the final +catastrophe. Borrow could not translate Phillips’s +great masterpiece, <i>Twelve Essays on the Proximate Causes</i>, +into German with any real effectiveness although the testimonial +of the enthusiastic Taylor had led Phillips to assume that he +could. Borrow, as we shall see, knew many languages, and +knew them well colloquially, but he was not a grammarian, and he +could not write accurately in any one of the numerous +tongues. His wonderful memory gave him the words, but not +always any thoroughness of construction. He could make a +good translation of a poem by Schiller, because he brought his +own poetic fancy to the venture, but he had no interest in +Phillips’s philosophy, and so he doubtless made a very bad +<a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +59</span>translation, as German friends were soon able to assure +Phillips, who had at last to go to a German for a translation, +and the book appeared at Stuttgart in 1826. Meanwhile, +Phillips’s new magazine, <i>The Universal Review</i>, went +on its course. It lasted only for a few numbers, as we have +said—from March, 1824, to January, 1825—and it was +entirely devoted to reviews, many of them written by Borrow, but +without any distinction calling for comment to-day. Dr. +Knapp thought that Gifford was the editor, with Phillips’s +son and George Borrow assisting. Gifford translated +<i>Juvenal</i>, and it was for a long time assumed that Borrow +wished merely to disguise Gifford’s identity when he +referred to his editor as the translator of +<i>Quintilian</i>. But Sir Leslie Stephen has pointed out +in <i>Literature</i> that John Carey (1756–1826), who +actually edited <i>Quintilian</i> in 1822, was Phillips’s +editor. “All the poetry which I reviewed,” +Borrow tells us, “appeared to be published at the expense +of the authors. All the publications which fell under my +notice I treated in a gentlemanly . . . manner—no +personalities, no vituperation, no shabby insinuations; decorum, +decorum was the order of the day.” And one feels that +Borrow was not very much at home. But he went on with his +<i>Newgate Lives and Trials</i>, which, however, were to be +published with another imprint, although at the instance of +Phillips. By that time he and that worthy publisher had +parted company. Probably Phillips had set out for Brighton, +which was to be his home for the remainder of his life.</p> +<h2><a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +60</span>CHAPTER IX<br /> +<span class="smcap">“Faustus” and “Romantic +Ballads”</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the early pages of +<i>Lavengro</i> Borrow tells us nearly all we are ever likely to +know of his sojourn in London in the years 1824 and 1825, during +which time he had those interviews with Sir Richard Phillips +which are recorded in our last chapter. Dr. Knapp, indeed, +prints a little note from him to his friend Kerrison, in which he +begs his friend to come to him as he believes he is dying. +Roger Kerrison, it would seem, had been so frightened by +Borrow’s depression and threats of suicide that he had left +the lodgings at 16 Milman Street, Bedford Row, and removed +himself elsewhere, and so Borrow was left friendless to fight +what he called his “horrors” alone. The +depression was not unnatural. From his own vivid narrative +we learn of Borrow’s bitter failure as an author. No +one wanted his translations from the Welsh and the Danish, and +Phillips clearly had no further use for him after he had compiled +his <i>Newgate Lives and Trials</i> (Borrow’s name in +<i>Lavengro</i> for <i>Celebrated Trials</i>), and was doubtless +inclined to look upon him as an impostor for professing, with +William Taylor’s sanction, a mastery of the German language +which had been demonstrated to be false with regard to his own +book. No “spirited publisher” had come forward +to give reality to his dream thus set down:</p> +<blockquote><p>I had still an idea that, provided I could +persuade any spirited publisher to give these translations to the +world, I should acquire both considerable fame and profit; not, +perhaps, a world-embracing fame such as Byron’s; but a fame +not to be sneered at, which would last me a considerable time, +and would keep my heart from breaking;—profit, not equal to +that which Scott had made by his wondrous novels, but which would +prevent me from starving, and enable me to achieve some other +literary enterprise. I read and re-read my ballads, and the +more I read them the more I was convinced that the public, in the +event of their being published, would freely purchase, and hail +them with the merited applause.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>He has +a tale to tell us in <i>Lavengro</i> of a certain <i>Life and +Adventures of Joseph Sell</i>, <i>the Great Traveller</i>, the +purchase of which from him by a publisher at the last moment +saved him from starvation and enabled him to take to the road, +there to meet the many adventures that have become immortal in +the pages of <i>Lavengro</i>. Dr. Knapp has encouraged the +idea that <i>Joseph Sell</i> was a real book, ignoring the fact +that the very title suggests doubts, and was probably meant to +suggest them. In Norfolk, as elsewhere, a +“sell” is a word in current slang used for an +imposture or a cheat, and doubtless Borrow meant to make merry +with the credulous. There was, we may be perfectly sure, no +<i>Joseph Sell</i>, and it is more reasonable to suppose that it +was the sale of his translation of Klinger’s <i>Faustus</i> +that gave him the much needed money at this crisis. Dr. +Knapp pictures Borrow as carrying the manuscript of his +translation of <i>Faustus</i> with him to London. There is +not the slightest evidence of this. It may be reasonably +assumed that Borrow made the translation from Klinger’s +novel during his sojourn in London. It is true the preface +is dated “Norwich, April 1825,” but Borrow did not +leave London until the end of May, 1825, that is to say, until +after he had negotiated with “W. Simpkin and R. +Marshall,” now the well-known firm of Simpkin and Marshall, +for the publication of the little volume. That firm, +unfortunately, has no record of the transaction. My +impression is that Borrow in his wandering after old volumes on +crime for his great compilation, <i>Celebrated Trials</i>, came +across the French translation of Klinger’s novel published +at Amsterdam. From that translation he acknowledges that he +borrowed the plate which serves as frontispiece—a plate +entitled “The Corporation Feast.” It represents +the corporation of Frankfort at a banquet turned by the devil +into various animals. It has been erroneously assumed that +Borrow had had something to do with the designing of this plate, +and that he had introduced the corporation of Norwich in vivid +portraiture into the picture. Borrow does, indeed, +interpolate a reference to Norwich into his translation of a not +too complimentary character, for at that time he had no very +amiable feelings towards his native city. Of the +inhabitants of Frankfort he says:</p> +<blockquote><p>They found the people of the place modelled after +so unsightly a pattern, with such ugly figures and flat features, +that the devil <a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +62</span>owned he had never seen them equalled, except by the +inhabitants of an English town called Norwich, when dressed in +their Sunday’s best. <a name="citation62"></a><a +href="#footnote62" class="citation">[62]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>In the original German version of 1791 we have the town of +Nuremberg thus satirised. But Borrow was not the first +translator to seize the opportunity of adapting the reference for +personal ends. In the French translation of 1798, published +at Amsterdam, and entitled <i>Les Aventures du Docteur Faust</i>, +the translator has substituted Auxerre for Nuremberg. What +makes me think that Borrow used only the French version in his +translation is the fact that in his preface he refers to the +engravings of that version, one of which he reproduced; whereas +the engravings are in the German version as well.</p> +<p>Friedrich Maximilian von Klinger (1752–1831), who was +responsible for Borrow’s “first book,” was +responsible for much else of an epoch-making character. It +was he who by one of his many plays, <i>Sturm und Drang</i>, gave +a name to an important period of German literature. In 1780 +von Klinger entered the service of Russia, and in 1790 married a +natural daughter of the Empress Catherine. Thus his novel, +<i>Faust’s Leben</i>, <i>Thaten und Höllenfahrt</i>, +was actually first published at St. Petersburg in 1791. +This was seventeen years before Goethe published his first part +of <i>Faust</i>, a book which by its exquisite poetry was to +extinguish for all self-respecting Germans Klinger’s turgid +prose. Borrow, like the translator of Rousseau’s +<i>Confessions</i> and of many another classic, takes refuge more +than once in the asterisk. Klinger’s <i>Faustus</i>, +with much that was bad and even bestial, has merits. The +devil throughout shows his victim a succession of examples of +“man’s inhumanity to man.” Borrow nowhere +mentions Klinger’s name in his book, of which the +title-page runs:</p> +<blockquote><p>Faustus: His Life, Death, and Descent into +Hell. Translated from the German. London: W. Simpkin +and R. Marshall, 1825.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I doubt very much if he really knew who was the author, as the +book in both the German editions I have seen as well as in the +French version bears no author’s name on its +title-page. A letter of Borrow’s in the possession of +an American collector indicates that he was back in Norwich in +September, <a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +63</span>1825, after, we may assume, three months’ +wandering among gypsies and tinkers. It is written from +Willow Lane, and is apparently to the publishers of +<i>Faustus</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>As your bill will become payable in a few days, I +am willing to take thirty copies of <i>Faustus</i> instead of the +money. The book has been <i>burnt</i> in both the libraries +here, and, as it has been talked about, I may perhaps be able to +dispose of some in the course of a year or so.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This letter clearly demonstrates that the guileless Simpkin +and the equally guileless Marshall had paid Borrow for the right +to publish <i>Faustus</i>, and even though part of the payment +was met by a bill, I think we may safely find in the transaction +whatever verity there may be in the <i>Joseph Sell</i> +episode. “Let me know how you sold your +manuscript,” writes Borrow’s brother to him so late +as the year 1829. And this was doubtless +<i>Faustus</i>. The action of the Norwich libraries in +burning the book would clearly have had the sympathy of one of +its few reviewers had he been informed of the circumstance. +It is thus that the <i>Literary Gazette</i> for 16th July, 1825, +refers to Borrow’s little book:</p> +<blockquote><p>This is another work to which no respectable +publisher ought to have allowed his name to be put. The +political allusions and metaphysics, which may have made it +popular among a low class in Germany, do not sufficiently season +its lewd scenes and coarse descriptions for British +palates. We have occasionally publications for the +fireside—these are only fit for the fire.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow returned then to Norwich in the autumn of 1825 a +disappointed man so far as concerned the giving of his poetical +translations to the world, from which he had hoped so much. +No “spirited publisher” had been forthcoming, +although Dr. Knapp’s researches have unearthed a +“note” in <i>The Monthly Magazine</i>, which, after +the fashion of the anticipatory literary gossip of our day, +announced that Olaus Borrow was about to issue <i>Legends and +Popular Superstitions of the North</i>, “in two elegant +volumes.” But this never appeared. Quite a +number of Borrow’s translations from divers languages had +appeared from time to time, beginning with a version of +Schiller’s “Diver” in <i>The New Monthly +Magazine</i> for 1823, continuing with Stolberg’s +“Ode to a Mountain Torrent” in <i>The Monthly +Magazine</i>, and including the “Deceived +Merman.” These <a name="page64"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 64</span>he collected into book form and, not +to be deterred by the coldness of heartless London publishers, +issued them by subscription. Three copies of the slim +octavo book lie before me, with separate title-pages:</p> +<p>(1) Romantic Ballads, Translated from the Danish; and +Miscellaneous Pieces by George Borrow. Norwich: Printed and +Published by S. Wilkin, Upper Haymarket, 1826.</p> +<p>(2) Romantic Ballads, Translated from the Danish; and +Miscellaneous Pieces by George Borrow. London: Published by +John Taylor, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall, 1826.</p> +<p>(3) Romantic Ballads, Translated from the Danish; and +Miscellaneous Pieces, by George Borrow. London: Published +by Wightman and Cramp, 24 Paternoster Row, 1826.</p> +<p>The book contains an introduction in verse by Allan +Cunningham, whose acquaintance Borrow seems to have made in +London. It commences:</p> +<blockquote><p>Sing, sing, my friend, breathe life again<br /> +Through Norway’s song and Denmark’s strain:<br /> +On flowing Thames and Forth, in flood,<br /> +Pour Haco’s war-song, fierce and rude.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Cunningham had not himself climbed very far up the literary +ladder in 1825, although he was forty-one years of age. At +one time a stonemason in a Scots village, he had entered +Chantrey’s studio, and was “superintendent of the +works” to that eminent sculptor at the time when Borrow +called upon him in London, and made an acquaintance which never +seems to have extended beyond this courtesy to the younger +man’s <i>Danish Ballads</i>. The point of sympathy of +course was that in the year 1825 Cunningham had published <i>The +Songs of Scotland</i>, <i>Ancient and Modern</i>.</p> +<p>Five hundred copies of the <i>Romantic Ballads</i> were +printed in Norwich by S. Wilkin, about two hundred being +subscribed for, mainly in that city, the other three hundred +being dispatched to London—to Taylor, whose name appears on +the London title-page, although he seems to have passed on the +book very quickly to Wightman and Cramp, for what reason we are +not informed. Borrow tells us that the two hundred +subscriptions of half a guinea “amply paid expenses,” +but he must have been cruelly disappointed, as he was doomed to +be more than once in his career, by the lack of public +appreciation outside of Norwich. Yet there were many +reasons for this. If Scott had made the ballad popular, <a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>he had also +destroyed it for a century—perhaps for ever—by +substituting the novel as the favourite medium for the +storyteller. Great ballads we were to have in every decade +from that day to this, but never another “best +seller” like <i>Marmion</i> or <i>The Lady of the +Lake</i>. Our <i>popular</i> poets had to express +themselves in other ways. Then Borrow, although his verse +has been underrated by those who have not seen it at its best, or +who are incompetent to appraise poetry, was not very effective +here, notwithstanding that the stories in verse in <i>Romantic +Ballads</i> are all entirely interesting. This fact is most +in evidence in a case where a real poet, not of the greatest, has +told the same story. We owe a rendering of “The +Deceived Merman” to both George Borrow and Matthew Arnold, +but how widely different the treatment! The story is of a +merman who rose out of the water and enticed a mortal—fair +Agnes or Margaret—under the waves; she becomes his wife, +bears him children, and then asks to return to earth. +Arriving there she refuses to go back when the merman comes +disconsolately to the church-door for her. Here are a few +lines from the two versions, which demonstrate that here at least +Borrow was no poet and that Arnold was a very fine one:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: center">GEORGE BORROW</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">MATTHEW ARNOLD</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="poetry">“Now, Agnes, Agnes list to me,<br /> +Thy babes are longing so after thee.”<br /> +“I cannot come yet, here must I stay<br /> +Until the priest shall have said his say.”<br /> +And when the priest had said his say,<br /> +She thought with her mother at home she’d stay.<br /> +“O Agnes, Agnes, list to me,<br /> +Thy babes are sorrowing after thee.”<br /> +“Let them sorrow and sorrow their fill,<br /> +But back to them never return I will.”</p> +</td> +<td><p class="poetry">We climbed on the graves, on the stones +worn with rains,<br /> +And we gazed up the aisles through the small leaded panes.<br /> +She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:<br /> +“Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!<br /> +Dear heart,” I said, “we are long alone;<br /> +The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.”<br /> +But, ah, she gave me never a look,<br /> +For her eyes were sealed on the holy book!<br /> +Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.<br /> +Come away, children, call no more!<br /> +Come away, come down, call no more!</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>It says much for the literary proclivities of Norwich at this +period that Borrow should have had so kindly a reception <a +name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>for his book +as the subscription list implies. At the end of each of +Wilkin’s two hundred copies a “list of +subscribers” is given. It opens with the name of the +Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Bathurst; it includes the equally familiar +names of the Gurdons, Gurneys, Harveys, Rackhams, Hares (then as +now of Stow Hall), Woodhouses—all good Norfolk or Norwich +names that have come down to our time. Mayor Hawkes, who is +made famous in <i>Lavengro</i> by Haydon’s portrait, is +there also. Among London names we find John Bowring, +Borrow’s new friend, and later to be counted an enemy, +Thomas Campbell, Benjamin Haydon and John Timbs. But the +name that most strikes the eye is that of +“Thurtell.” Three of the family are among the +subscribers including Mr. George Thurtell of Eaton, near Norwich, +brother of the murderer; there also is the name of John Thurtell, +executed for murder exactly a year before. This would seem +to imply that Borrow had been a long time collecting these names +and subscriptions, and doubtless before the all-too-famous crime +of the previous year he had made Thurtell promise to become a +subscriber, and, let us hope, had secured his half-guinea. +That may account, with so sensitive and impressionable a man as +our author, for the kindly place that Weare’s unhappy +murderer always had in his memory. Borrow, in any case, was +now, for a few years, to become more than ever a vagabond. +Not a single further appeal did he make to an unsympathetic +literary public for a period of five years at least.</p> +<h2><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +67</span>CHAPTER X<br /> +<span class="smcap">“Celebrated Trials” and John +Thurtell</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrow’s</span> first book was +<i>Faustus</i>, and his second was <i>Romantic Ballads</i>, the +one being published, as we have seen, in 1825, the other in +1826. This chronology has the appearance of ignoring the +<i>Celebrated Trials</i>, but then it is scarcely possible to +count <i>Celebrated Trials</i> <a name="citation67a"></a><a +href="#footnote67a" class="citation">[67a]</a> as one of +Borrow’s books at all. It is largely a compilation, +exactly as the <i>Newgate Calendar</i> and Howell’s +<i>State Trials</i> are compilations. In his preface to the +work Borrow tells us that he has differentiated the book from the +<i>Newgate Calendar</i> <a name="citation67b"></a><a +href="#footnote67b" class="citation">[67b]</a> and the <i>State +Trials</i> <a name="citation67c"></a><a href="#footnote67c" +class="citation">[67c]</a> by the fact that he had made +considerable compression. This was so, and in fact in many +cases he has used the blue pencil rather than the pen—at +least in the earlier volumes. But Borrow attempted +something much more comprehensive than the <i>Newgate +Calendar</i> and the <i>State Trials</i> in his book. In +the former work the trials range from 1700 to 1802; in the latter +from the trial of Becket in 1163 to the trial of Thistlewood in +1820. Both works are concerned solely with this +country. Borrow went all over Europe, and the trials of +Joan of Arc, Count Struensee, Major André, Count +Cagliostro, Queen Marie Antoinette, the Duc d’Enghien, and +Marshal Ney, are included in his volumes. Moreover, while +what may be called state trials are numerous, including many of +the cases in <i>Howell</i>, the greater number are of a domestic +nature, including nearly <a name="page68"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 68</span>all that are given in the <i>Newgate +Calendar</i>. In the first two volumes he has naturally +mainly state trials to record; the later volumes record sordid +everyday crimes, and here Borrow is more at home. His style +when he rewrites the trials is more vigorous, and his narrative +more interesting. It is to be hoped that the exigent +publisher, who he assures us made him buy the books for his +compilation out of the £50 that he paid for it, was able to +present him with a set of the <i>State Trials</i>, if only in one +of the earlier and cheaper issues of the work than the one that +now has a place in every lawyer’s library.</p> +<p>The third volume of <i>Celebrated Trials</i>, although it +opens with the trial of Algernon Sidney, is made up largely of +crime of the more ordinary type, and this sordid note continues +through the three final volumes. I have said that +<i>Faustus</i> is an allegory of “man’s inhumanity to +man.” That is emphatically, in more realistic form, +the distinguishing feature of <i>Celebrated Trials</i>. +Amid these records of savagery, it is a positive relief to come +across such a trial as that of poor Joseph Baretti. +Baretti, it will be remembered, was brought to trial because, +when some roughs set upon him in the street, he drew a dagger, +which he usually carried “to carve fruit and +sweetmeats,” and killed his assailant. In that age, +when our law courts were a veritable shambles, how cheerful it is +to find that the jury returned a verdict of +“self-defence.” But then Sir Joshua Reynolds, +Edmund Burke, Dr. Johnson, and David Garrick gave evidence to +character, representing Baretti as “a man of benevolence, +sobriety, modesty, and learning.” This trial is an +oasis of mercy in a desert of drastic punishment. Borrow +carries on his “trials” to the very year before the +date of publication, and the last trial in the book is that of +“Henry Fauntleroy, Esquire,” for forgery. +Fauntleroy was a quite respectable banker of unimpeachable +character, to whom had fallen at a very early age the charge of a +banking business that was fundamentally unsound. It is +clear that he had honestly endeavoured to put things on a better +footing, that he lived simply, and had no gambling or other +vices. At a crisis, however, he forged a document, in other +words signed a transfer of stock which he had no right to do, the +“subscribing witness” to his power of attorney being +Robert Browning, a clerk in the Bank of England, and father of <a +name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>the +distinguished poet. Well, Fauntleroy was sentenced to be +hanged—and he was duly hanged at Newgate on 30th October, +1824, only thirteen years before Queen Victoria came to the +throne!</p> +<p>Borrow has affirmed that from a study of the <i>Newgate +Calendar</i> and the compilation of his <i>Celebrated Trials</i> +he first learned to write genuine English, and it is a fact that +there are some remarkably dramatic effects in these volumes, +although one here withholds from Borrow the title of +“author” because so much is “scissors and +paste,” and the purple passages are only occasional. +All the same I am astonished that no one has thought it worth +while to make a volume of these dramatic episodes, which are +clearly the work of Borrow, and owe nothing to the innumerable +pamphlets and chap-books that he brought into use. Take +such an episode as that of Schening and Harlin, two young German +women, one of whom pretended to have murdered her infant in the +presence of the other because she madly supposed that this would +secure them bread—and they were starving. The trial, +the scene at the execution, the confession on the scaffold of the +misguided but innocent girl, the respite, and then the +execution—these make up as thrilling a narrative as is +contained in the pages of fiction. Assuredly Borrow did not +spare himself in that race round the bookstalls of London to find +the material which the grasping Sir Richard Phillips required +from him. He found, for example, Sir Herbert Croft’s +volume, <i>Love and Madness</i>, the supposed correspondence of +Parson Hackman and Martha Reay, whom he murdered. That +correspondence is now known to be an invention of +Croft’s. Borrow accepted it as genuine, and +incorporated the whole of it in his story of the Hackman +trial.</p> +<p>But after all, the trial which we read with greatest interest +in these volumes is that of John Thurtell, because Borrow had +known Thurtell in his youth, and gives us more than one glimpse +of him in <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>The Romany Rye</i>.</p> +<p>Rarely in our criminal jurisprudence has a murder trial +excited more interest than that of John Thurtell for the murder +of Weare—the Gill’s Hill Murder, as it was +called. Certainly no murder of modern times has had so many +indirect literary associations. Borrow, Carlyle, Hazlitt, +Walter Scott, and Thackeray are among those who have given it <a +name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>lasting fame +by comment of one kind or another; and the lines ascribed to +Theodore Hook are perhaps as well known as any other memory of +the tragedy:</p> +<blockquote><p>They cut his throat from ear to ear,<br /> + His brain they battered in,<br /> +His name was Mr. William Weare,<br /> + He dwelt in Lyon’s Inn.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Carlyle’s division of human beings of the upper classes +into “noblemen, gentlemen, and gigmen,” which occurs +in his essay on Richter, and a later reference to gigmanhood +which occurs in his essay on Goethe’s Works, had their +inspiration in an episode in the trial of Thurtell, when the +question being asked, “What sort of a person was Mr. +Weare?” brought the answer, “He was always a +respectable person.” “What do you mean by +respectable?” the witness was asked. “He kept a +gig,” was the reply, which brought the word +“gigmanity” into our language. <a +name="citation70"></a><a href="#footnote70" +class="citation">[70]</a></p> +<p>I have said that John Thurtell and two members of his family +became subscribers for Borrow’s <i>Romantic Ballads</i>, +and it is certain that Borrow must often have met Thurtell, that +is to say looked at him from a distance, in some of the scenes of +prize-fighting which both affected, Borrow merely as a youthful +spectator, Thurtell as a reckless backer of one or other +combatant. Thurtell’s father was an alderman of +Norwich living in a good house on the Ipswich Road when the +son’s name rang through England as that of a +murderer. The father was born in 1765 and died in +1846. Four years after his son John was hanged he was +elected Mayor of Norwich, in recognition of his violent +ultra-Whig or blue and white political opinions. He had +been nominated as mayor both in 1818 and 1820, but it was perhaps +the extraordinary “advertisement” of his son’s +shameful death that gave the citizens of Norwich the necessary +enthusiasm to elect Alderman Thurtell as mayor in 1828. It +was in those oligarchical days a not unnatural fashion to be +against the Government. The feast at the Guildhall on this +occasion was attended by four hundred and sixty guests. A +year before John Thurtell was hanged, in 1823, his father moved a +violent political resolution in <a name="page71"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 71</span>Norwich, but was out-Heroded by +Cobbett, who moved a much more extreme one over his head and +carried it by an immense majority. It was a brutal time, +and there cannot be a doubt that Alderman Thurtell, while busy +setting the world straight, failed to bring up his family very +well. John, as we shall see, was hanged; Thomas, another +brother, was associated with him in many disgraceful +transactions; while a third brother, George, also a subscriber, +by the way, to Borrow’s <i>Romantic Ballads</i>, who was a +landscape gardener at Eaton, died in prison in 1848 under +sentence for theft. Apart from a rather riotous and bad +bringing up, which may be pleaded in extenuation, it is not +possible to waste much sympathy over John Thurtell. He had +thoroughly disgraced himself in Norwich before he removed to +London. There he got further and further into difficulties, +and one of the many publications which arose out of his trial and +execution was devoted to pointing the moral of the evils of +gambling. It was bad luck at cards, and the loss of much +money to William Weare, who seems to have been an exceedingly +vile person, that led to the murder. Thurtell had a friend +named Probert who lived in a quiet cottage in a byway of +Hertfordshire—Gill’s Hill, near Elstree. He +suggested to Weare in a friendly way that they should go for a +day’s shooting at Gill’s Hill, and that Probert would +put them up for the night. Weare went home, collected a few +things in a bag, and took a hackney coach to a given spot, where +Thurtell met him with a gig. The two men drove out of +London together. The date was 24th October, 1823. On +the high-road they met and passed Probert and a companion named +Joseph Hunt, who had even been instructed by Thurtell to bring a +sack with him—this was actually used to carry away the +body—and must therefore have been privy to the intended +murder. By the time the second gig containing Probert and +Hunt arrived near Probert’s cottage, Thurtell met it in the +roadway, according to their accounts, and told the two men that +he had done the deed; that he had killed Weare first by +ineffectively shooting him, then by dashing out his brains with +his pistol, and finally by cutting his throat. Thurtell +further told his friends, if their evidence was to be trusted, +that he had left the body behind a hedge. In the night the +three men placed the body in a sack and carried it to a pond near +<a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +72</span>Probert’s house and threw it in. The next +night they fished it out and threw it into another pond some +distance away. Thurtell meanwhile had divided the +spoil—some £20, which he said was all that he had +obtained from Weare’s body—with his companions. +Hunt, it may be mentioned, afterwards declared his conviction +that Thurtell, when he first committed the murder, had removed +his victim’s principal treasure, notes to the value of +three or four hundred pounds. Suspicion was aroused, and +the hue and cry raised through the finding by a labourer of the +pistol in the hedge, and the discovery of a pool of blood on the +roadway. Probert promptly turned informer; Hunt also tried +to save himself by a rambling confession, and it was he who +revealed where the body was concealed, accompanying the officers +to the pond and pointing out the exact spot where the corpse +would be found. When recovered the body was taken to the +Artichoke inn at Elstree, and here the coroner’s inquest +was held. Meanwhile Thurtell had been arrested in London +and taken down to Elstree to be present at the inquest. A +verdict of murder against all three miscreants was given by the +coroner’s jury, and Weare’s body was buried in +Elstree Churchyard.</p> +<p>In January, 1824, John Thurtell was brought to trial at +Hertford Assizes, and Hunt also. But first of all there +were some interesting proceedings in the Court of King’s +Bench, before the Chief Justice and two other judges, complaining +that Thurtell had not been allowed to see his counsel. And +there were other points at issue. Thurtell’s counsel +moved for a criminal injunction against the proprietor of the +Surrey Theatre in that a performance had been held there, and was +being held, which assumed Thurtell’s guilt, the identical +horse and gig being exhibited in which Weare was supposed to have +ridden to the scene of his death. Finally this was +arranged, and a <i>mandamus</i> was granted “commanding the +admission of legal advisers to the prisoner.” At last +the trial came on at Hertford before Mr. Justice Park. It +lasted two days, although the judge wished to go on all night in +order to finish in one. But the protest of Thurtell, +supported by the jury, led to an adjournment. Probert had +been set free and appeared as a witness. The jury gave a +verdict of guilty, and Thurtell and Hunt were sentenced to be +hanged, but Hunt escaped with transportation. <a +name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>Thurtell made +his own speech for the defence, which had a great effect upon the +jury, until the judge swept most of its sophistries away. +It was, however, a very able performance. Thurtell’s +line of defence was to declare that Hunt and Probert were the +murderers, and that he was a victim of their perjuries. If +hanged, he would be hanged on circumstantial evidence only, and +he gave, with great elaboration, the details of a number of cases +where men had been wrongfully hanged upon circumstantial +evidence. His lawyers had apparently provided him with +books containing these examples from the past, and his month in +prison was devoted to this defence, which showed great +ability. The trial took place on 6th January, 1824, and +Thurtell was hanged on the 9th, in front of Hertford Gaol: his +body was given to the Anatomical Museum in London. A +contemporary report says that Thurtell, on the scaffold,</p> +<blockquote><p>fixed his eyes on a young gentleman in the crowd, +whom he had frequently seen as a spectator at the commencement of +the proceedings against him. Seeing that the individual was +affected by the circumstances, he removed them to another +quarter, and in so doing recognised an individual well known in +the sporting circles, to whom he made a slight bow.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The reader of <i>Lavengro</i> might speculate whether that +“young gentleman” was Borrow, but Borrow was in +Norwich in January, 1824, his father dying in the following +month. In his <i>Celebrated Trials</i> Borrow tells the +story of the execution with wonderful vividness, and supplies +effective quotations from “an eyewitness.” +Borrow no doubt exaggerated his acquaintance with Thurtell, as in +his <i>Robinson Crusoe</i> romance he was fully entitled to do +for effect. He was too young at the time to have been much +noticed by a man so much his senior. The writer who accepts +Borrow’s own statement that he really gave him “some +lessons in the noble art” is too credulous, and the +statement that Thurtell’s house “on the Ipswich Road +was a favourite rendezvous for the Fancy” is unsupported by +evidence. Old Alderman Thurtell owned the house in +question, and we find no evidence that he encouraged his +son’s predilection for prize-fighting.</p> +<h2><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>CHAPTER XI<br /> +<span class="smcap">Borrow and The Fancy</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">George Borrow</span> had no sympathy with +Thurtell the gambler. I find no evidence in his career of +any taste for games of hazard or indeed for games of any kind, +although we recall that as a mere child he was able to barter a +pack of cards for the Irish language. But he had certainly +very considerable sympathy with the notorious criminal as a +friend and patron of prize-fighting. This now discredited +pastime Borrow ever counted a virtue. Was not his +God-fearing father a champion in his way, or, at least, had he +not in open fight beaten the champion of the moment, Big Ben +Brain? Moreover, who was there in those days with blood in +his veins who did not count the cultivation of the Fancy as the +noblest and most manly of pursuits! Why, William Hazlitt, a +prince among English essayists, whose writings are a beloved +classic in our day, wrote in <i>The New Monthly Magazine</i> in +these very years his own eloquent impression, and even introduces +John Thurtell more than once as “Tom Turtle,” little +thinking then of the fate that was so soon to overtake him. +What could be more lyrical than this:</p> +<blockquote><p>Reader, have you ever seen a fight? If not, +you have a pleasure to come, at least if it is a fight like that +between the Gas-man and Bill Neate.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And then the best historian of prize-fighting, Henry Downes +Miles, the author of <i>Pugilistica</i>, has his own statement of +the case. You will find it in his monograph on John +Jackson, the pugilist who taught Lord Byron to box, and received +the immortality of an eulogistic footnote in <i>Don +Juan</i>. Here is Miles’s defence:</p> +<blockquote><p>No small portion of the public has taken it for +granted that pugilism and blackguardism are synonymous. It +is as an antidote to these slanderers that we pen a candid +history of the boxers; and taking the general habits of men of +humble origin (elevated by their courage and bodily gifts to be +the associates of those more fortunate in worldly position), we +fearlessly maintain that <a name="page75"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 75</span>the best of our boxers present as +good samples of honesty, generosity of spirit, goodness of heart +and humanity, as an equal number of men of any class of +society.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>From Samuel Johnson onwards literary England has had a +kindness for the pugilist, although the magistrate has long, and +rightly, ruled him out as impossible. Borrow carried his +enthusiasm further than any, and no account of him that +concentrates attention upon his accomplishment as a distributor +of Bibles and ignores his delight in fisticuffs, has any grasp of +the real George Borrow. Indeed it may be said, and will be +shown in the course of our story, that Borrow entered upon Bible +distribution in the spirit of a pugilist rather than that of an +evangelist. But to return to Borrow’s pugilistic +experiences. He claims, as we have seen, occasionally to +have put on the gloves with John Thurtell. He describes +vividly enough his own conflicts with the Flaming Tinman and with +Petulengro. His one heroine, Isopel Berners, had +“Fair Play and Long Melford” as her ideal, +“Long Melford” being the good right-handed blow with +which Lavengro conquered the Tinman. Isopel, we remember, +had learned in Long Melford Union to “Fear God and take +your own part!”</p> +<p>George Borrow, indeed, was at home with the whole army of +prize-fighters, who came down to us like the Roman Caesars or the +Kings of England in a noteworthy procession, their dynasty +commencing with James Fig of Thame, who began to reign in 1719, +and closing with Tom King, who beat Heenan in 1863, or with Jem +Mace, who flourished in a measure until 1872. With what +zest must Borrow have followed the account of the greatest battle +of all, that between Heenan and Tom Sayers at Farnborough in +1860, when it was said that Parliament had been emptied to +patronise a prize-fight; and this although Heenan complained that +he had been chased out of eight counties. For by this time, +in spite of lordly patronage, pugilism was doomed, and the more +harmless boxing had taken its place. “Pity that +corruption should have crept in amongst them,” sighed +Lavengro in a memorable passage, in which he also has his paean +of praise for the bruisers of England:</p> +<blockquote><p>Let no one sneer at the bruisers of +England—what were the gladiators of Rome, or the +bull-fighters of Spain, in its palmiest days, compared to +England’s bruisers?</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>Yes: +Borrow was never hard on the bruisers of England, and followed +their achievements, it may be said, from his cradle to his +grave. His beloved father had brought him up, so to speak, +upon memories of one who was champion before George was +born—Big Ben Brain of Bristol. Brain, although always +called “Big Ben,” was only 5 feet 10 in. high. +He was for years a coal porter at a wharf off the Strand. +It was in 1791 that Ben Brain won the championship which placed +him upon a pinnacle in the minds of all robust people. The +Duke of Hamilton once backed him against the then champion, Tom +Johnson, for five hundred guineas. “Public +expectation,” says <i>The Oracle</i>, a contemporary +newspaper, “never was raised so high by any pugilistic +contest; great bets were laid, and it is estimated £20,000 +was wagered on this occasion.” Ben Brain was the +undisputed conqueror, we are told, in eighteen rounds, occupying +no more than twenty-one minutes. Brain died in 1794, and +all the biographers tell of the piety of his end, so that +Borrow’s father may have read the Bible to him in his last +moments, as Borrow avers, but I very much doubt the accuracy of +the following:</p> +<blockquote><p>Honour to Brain, who four months after the event +which I have now narrated was champion of England, having +conquered the heroic Johnson. Honour to Brain, who, at the +end of other four months, worn out by the dreadful blows which he +had received in his manly combats, expired in the arms of my +father, who read the Bible to him in his latter moments—Big +Ben Brain.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Brain actually lived for four years after his fight with +Johnson, but perhaps the fight in Hyde Park between +Borrow’s father and Ben, as narrated in <i>Lavengro</i>, is +all romancing. It makes good reading in any case, as does +Borrow’s eulogy of some of his own contemporaries of the +prize-ring.</p> +<p>It is all very accurate history. We know that there +really was this wonderful gathering of the bruisers of England +assembled in the neighbourhood of Norwich in July, 1820, that is +to say, sixteen miles away at North Walsham. More than +25,000 men, it is estimated, gathered to see Edward Painter of +Norwich fight Tom Oliver of London for a purse of a hundred +guineas. There were three Belchers, heroes of the +prize-ring, but Borrow here refers to Tom, whose younger brother, +Jem, had died in 1811 at the age of thirty. Tom <a +name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>Belcher died +in 1854 at the age of seventy-one. Thomas Cribb was +champion of England from 1805 to 1820. One of Cribb’s +greatest fights was with Jem Belcher in 1807, when, in the +forty-first and last round, as we are told by the chroniclers, +“Cribb proving the stronger man put in two weak blows, when +Belcher, quite exhausted, fell upon the ropes and gave up the +combat.” Cribb had a prolonged career of glory, but +he died in poverty in 1848. Happier was an earlier +champion, John Gully, who held the glorious honour for three +years—from 1805 to 1808. Gully turned tavern-keeper, +and making a fortune out of sundry speculations, entered +Parliament as member for Pontefract, and lived to be eighty years +of age.</p> +<p>It is necessary to dwell upon Borrow as the friend of +prize-fighters, because no one understands Borrow who does not +realise that his real interests were not in literature but in +action. He would have liked to join the army but could not +obtain a commission. And so he had to be content with such +fighting as was possible. He cared more for the men who +could use their fists than for those who could but wield the +pen. He would, we may be sure, have rejoiced to know that +many more have visited the tomb of Tom Sayers in Highgate +Cemetery than have visited the tomb of George Eliot in the same +burial-ground. A curious moral obliquity this, you may +say. But to recognise it is to understand one side of +Borrow, and an interesting side withal.</p> +<h2><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +78</span>CHAPTER XII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Eight Years of Vagabondage</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> has been much nonsense +written concerning what has been called the “veiled +period” of George Borrow’s life. This has +arisen from a letter which Richard Ford of the <i>Handbook for +Travellers in Spain</i> wrote to Borrow after a visit to him at +Oulton in 1844. Borrow was full of his projected +<i>Lavengro</i>, the idea of which he outlined to his +friends. He was a genial man in those days, on the wave of +a popular success. Was not <i>The Bible in Spain</i> +passing merrily from edition to edition! Borrow, it is +clear, told Ford that he was writing his +“Autobiography”—he had no misgiving then as to +what he should call it—and he evidently proposed to end it +in 1825 and not in 1833, when the Bible Society gave him his real +chance in life. His friend Ford indeed begged him not to +“drop a curtain” over the eight years succeeding +1825. “No doubt,” says Ford, “it will +excite a mysterious interest,” but then he adds in effect +it will lead to a wrong construction being put upon the +omission. Well, there can be but one interpretation, and +that not an unnatural one. Borrow had a very rough time +during these years. His vanity was hurt, and no +wonder. It seems a strange matter to us now that Charles +Dickens should have been ashamed of the blacking-bottle episode +of his boyhood. Genius has a right to a +poverty-stricken—even to a sordid, boyhood. But +genius has no right to a sordid manhood, and here was George +“Olaus” Borrow, who was able to claim the friendship +of William Taylor, the German scholar; who was able to boast of +his association with sound scholastic foundations, with the High +School at Edinburgh and the Grammar School at Norwich; who was a +great linguist and had made rare translations from the poetry of +many nations, starving in the byways of England and of +France. What a fate for such a man that he should have been +so unhappy for eight years; should have led the most penurious of +<a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>roving +lives, and almost certainly have been in prison as a common +tramp. <a name="citation79"></a><a href="#footnote79" +class="citation">[79]</a> It was all very well to romance +about a poverty-stricken youth. But when youth had fled +there ceased to be romance, and only sordidness was +forthcoming. From his twenty-third to his thirty-first year +George Borrow was engaged in a hopeless quest for the means of +making a living. There is, however, very little +mystery. Many incidents of each of these years are revealed +at one or other point. His home, to which he returned from +time to time, was with his mother at the cottage in Willow Lane, +Norwich. Whether he made sufficient profit out of a horse, +as in <i>The Romany Rye</i>, to enable him to travel upon the +proceeds, as Dr. Knapp thinks, we cannot say. Dr. Knapp is +doubtless right in assuming that during this period he led +“a life of roving adventure,” his own authorised +version of his career at the time, as we may learn from the +biography in his handwriting from <i>Men of the Time</i>. +But how far this roving was confined to England, how far it +extended to other lands, we do not know. We are, however, +satisfied that he starved through it all, that he rarely had a +penny in his pocket. At a later date he gave it to be +understood at times that he had visited the East, and that India +had revealed her glories to him. We do not believe +it. Defoe was Borrow’s master in literature, and he +shared Defoe’s right to lie magnificently on +occasion. Borrow certainly did some travel in these years, +but it was sordid, lacking in all dignity—never afterwards +to be recalled. For the most part, however, he was in +England. We know that Borrow was in Norwich in 1826, for we +have seen him superintending the publication of the <i>Romantic +Ballads</i> by subscription in that year. In that year also +he wrote the letter to Haydon, the painter, to say that he was +ready to sit for him, but that he was “going to the south +of France in a little better than a fortnight.” We +know also that he was in Norwich in 1827, because it was then, +and not in 1818 as described in <i>Lavengro</i>, that he +“doffed his hat” to the famous trotting stallion +Marshland Shales, when that famous old horse was exhibited at +Tombland Fair on the Castle Hill. We meet him next as the +friend of Dr. Bowring. The letters to Bowring we must leave +to another chapter, but they commence in 1829 <a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>and continue +through 1830 and 1831. Through them all Borrow shows +himself alive to the necessity of obtaining an appointment of +some kind, and meanwhile he is hard at work upon his translations +from various languages, which, in conjunction with Dr. Bowring, +he is to issue as <i>Songs of Scandinavia</i>. It has been +said that in 1829 he made the translation of the <i>Memoirs of +Vidocq</i>, which appeared in that year with a short preface by +the translator. <a name="citation80a"></a><a href="#footnote80a" +class="citation">[80a]</a> But these little volumes bear no +internal evidence of Borrow’s style, and there is no +external evidence to support the assumption that he had a hand in +their publication. His occasional references to Vidocq are +probably due to the fact that he had read this little book.</p> +<p>I have before me one very lengthy manuscript of Borrow’s +of this period. It is dated December, 1829, and is +addressed, “To the Committee of the Honourable and +Praiseworthy Association, known by the name of the Highland +Society.” <a name="citation80b"></a><a href="#footnote80b" +class="citation">[80b]</a> It is a proposal that they +should publish in two thick octavo volumes a series of +translations of the best and most approved poetry of the ancient +and modern Scots-Gaelic bards. Borrow was willing to give +two years to the project, for which he pleads “with no +sordid motive.” It is a dignified letter, which will +be found in one of Dr. Knapp’s appendices—so +presumably Borrow made two copies of it. The offer was in +any case declined, and so Borrow passed from disappointment to +disappointment during these eight years, which no wonder he +desired, in the coming years of fame and prosperity, to veil as +much as possible. The lean years in the lives of any of us +are not those upon which we delight to dwell, or upon which we +most cheerfully look back. <a name="citation80c"></a><a +href="#footnote80c" class="citation">[80c]</a></p> +<h2><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +81</span>CHAPTER XIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sir John Bowring</span></h2> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Poor</span> George. . . . I wish he +were making money. He works hard and remains +poor”—thus wrote John Borrow to his mother in 1830 +from Mexico, and it disposes in a measure of any suggestion of +mystery with regard to five of those years that he wished to +veil. They were not spent, it is clear, in rambling in the +East, as he tried to persuade Colonel Napier many years +later. They were spent for the most part in diligent +attempt at the capture of words, in reading the poetry and the +prose of many lands, and in making translations of unequal merit +from these diverse tongues. This is indisputably brought +home to me by the manuscripts in my possession. These +manuscripts represent years of work. Borrow has been +counted a considerable linguist, and he had assuredly a reading +and speaking acquaintance with a great many languages. But +this knowledge was acquired, as all knowledge is, with infinite +trouble and patience. I have before me hundreds of small +sheets of paper upon which are written English words and their +equivalents in some twenty or thirty languages. These serve +to show that Borrow learnt a language as a small boy in an +old-fashioned system of education learns his Latin or +French—by writing down simple +words—“father,” “mother,” +“horse,” “dog,” and so on with the same +word in Latin or French in front of them. Of course Borrow +had a superb memory and abundant enthusiasm, and so was enabled +to add one language to another and to make his translations from +such books as he could obtain with varied success. I +believe that nearly all the books that he handled came from the +Norwich library, and when Mrs. Borrow wrote to her elder son to +say that George was working hard, as we may fairly assume, from +the reply quoted, that she did, she was recalling this laborious +work at translation that must have gone on for years. We +have seen <a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>the first fruit in the translation from the +German—or possibly from the French—of Klinger’s +<i>Faustus</i>; we have seen it in <i>Romantic Ballads</i> from +the Danish, the Irish, and the Swedish. Now there really +seemed a chance of a more prosperous utilisation of his gift, for +Borrow had found a zealous friend who was prepared to go forward +with him in his work of giving to the English public translations +from the literatures of the northern nations. This friend +was Dr. John Bowring, who made a very substantial reputation in +his day.</p> +<p>Bowring has told his own story in a volume of +<i>Autobiographical Recollections</i>, a singularly dull book for +a man whose career was at once so varied and so full of +interest. He was born at Exeter in 1792 of an old +Devonshire family, and entered a merchant’s office in his +native city on leaving school. He early acquired a taste +for the study of languages, and learnt French from a refugee +priest precisely in the way in which Borrow had done. He +also acquired Italian, Spanish, German and Dutch, continuing with +a great variety of other languages. Indeed, only the very +year after Borrow had published <i>Faustus</i>, he published his +<i>Ancient Poetry and Romances of Spain</i>, and the year after +Borrow’s <i>Romantic Ballads</i> came Bowring’s +<i>Servian Popular Poetry</i>. With such interest in common +it was natural that the two men should be brought together, but +Bowring had the qualities which enabled him to make a career for +himself, and Borrow had not. In 1811, as a clerk in a +London mercantile house, he was sent to Spain, and after this his +travels were varied. He was in Russia in 1820, and in 1822 +was arrested at Calais and thrown into prison, being suspected by +the Bourbon Government of abetting the French Liberals. +Canning as Foreign Minister took up his cause, and he was +speedily released. He assisted Jeremy Bentham in founding +<i>The Westminster Review</i> in 1824. Meanwhile he was +seeking official employment, and in conjunction with Mr. +Villiers, afterwards Earl of Clarendon, and that ambassador to +Spain who befriended Borrow when he was in the Peninsula, became +a commissioner to investigate the commercial relations between +England and France. After the Reform Bill of 1832 Bowring +was frequently a candidate for Parliament, and was finally +elected for Bolton in 1841. In the meantime he assisted +Cobden in the formation of the Anti-Corn Law League in +1838. Having suffered great monetary losses in <a +name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 83</span>the interval +he applied for the appointment of Consul at Canton, of which +place he afterwards became Governor, being knighted in +1854. At one period of his career at Hong Kong his conduct +was made the subject of a vote of censure in Parliament, Lord +Palmerston, however, warmly defending him. Finally +returning to England in 1862, he continued his literary work with +unfailing zest. He died at Exeter, in a house very near +that in which he was born, in 1872. His extraordinary +energies cannot be too much praised, and there is no doubt but +that in addition to being the possessor of great learning he was +a man of high character. His literary efforts were +surprisingly varied. There are at least thirty-six volumes +with his name on the title-page, most of them unreadable to-day; +even such works, for example, as his <i>Visit to the Philippine +Isles</i> and <i>Siam and the Siamese</i>, which involved travel +into then little-known lands. Perhaps the only book by him +that to-day commands attention is his translation of +Chamisso’s <i>Peter Schlemihl</i>. The most readable +of many books by him into which I have dipped is his <i>Servian +Popular Poetry</i> of 1827, in which we find interesting stories +in verse that remind us of similar stories from the Danish in +Borrow’s <i>Romantic Ballads</i> published only the year +before. The extraordinary thing, indeed, is the many points +of likeness between Borrow and Bowring. Both were +remarkable linguists; both had spent some time in Spain and +Russia; both had found themselves in foreign prisons. They +were alike associated in some measure with Norwich—Bowring +through friendship with Taylor—and I might go on to many +other points of likeness or of contrast. It is natural, +therefore, that the penniless Borrow should have welcomed +acquaintance with the more prosperous scholar. Thus it is +that, some thirty years later, Borrow described the introduction +by Taylor:</p> +<blockquote><p>The writer had just entered into his eighteenth +year, when he met at the table of a certain Anglo-Germanist an +individual, apparently somewhat under thirty, of middle stature, +a thin and weaselly figure, a sallow complexion, a certain +obliquity of vision, and a large pair of spectacles. This +person, who had lately come from abroad, and had published a +volume of translations, had attracted some slight notice in the +literary world, and was looked upon as a kind of lion in a small +provincial capital. After dinner he argued a great deal, +spoke vehemently against the Church, and uttered the most +desperate Radicalism that was perhaps ever <a +name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>heard, +saying, he hoped that in a short time there would not be a king +or queen in Europe, and inveighing bitterly against the English +aristocracy, and against the Duke of Wellington in particular, +whom he said, if he himself was ever president of an English +republic—an event which he seemed to think by no means +improbable—he would hang for certain infamous acts of +profligacy and bloodshed which he had perpetrated in Spain. +Being informed that the writer was something of a philologist, to +which character the individual in question laid great +pretensions, he came and sat down by him, and talked about +languages and literature. The writer, who was only a boy, +was a little frightened at first.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The quarrels of authors are frequently amusing but rarely +edifying, and this hatred of Bowring that possessed the soul of +poor Borrow in his later years is of the same texture as the +rest. We shall never know the facts, but the position is +comprehensible enough. Let us turn to the extant +correspondence which, as far as we know, opened when Borrow paid +what was probably his third visit to London in 1829:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">17 <span class="smcap">Great Russell +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Bloomsbury</span>. +[<i>Dec.</i> 6, 1829.]</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—Lest I should +intrude upon you when you are busy, I write to inquire when you +will be unoccupied. I wish to shew you my translation of +<i>The Death of Balder</i>, Ewald’s most celebrated +production, which, if you approve of, you will perhaps render me +some assistance in bringing forth, for I don’t know many +publishers. I think this will be a proper time to introduce +it to the British public, as your account of Danish literature +will doubtless cause a sensation. My friend Mr. R. Taylor +has my <i>Kæmpe Viser</i>, which he has read and approves +of; but he is so very deeply occupied, that I am apprehensive he +neglects them: but I am unwilling to take them out of his hands, +lest I offend him. Your letting me know when I may call +will greatly oblige,—Dear Sir, your most obedient +servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">17 <span class="smcap">Great Russell +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Bloomsbury</span>. +[<i>Dec.</i> 28, 1829.]</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I trouble you +with these lines for the purpose of submitting a little project +of mine for your approbation. When I had last the pleasure +of being at yours, you mentioned that we might at some future +period unite our strength in composing a kind of Danish +Anthology. You know, as well as I, that by far the most +remarkable portion of Danish poetry is comprised in those ancient +popular productions termed <i>Kæmpe </i><a +name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 85</span><i>Viser</i>, +which I have translated. Suppose we bring forward at once +the first volume of the Danish Anthology, which should contain +the heroic and supernatural songs of the <i>K. V.</i>, which are +certainly the most interesting; they are quite ready for the +press with the necessary notes, and with an introduction which I +am not ashamed of. The second volume might consist of the +Historic songs and the ballads and Romances, this and the third +volume, which should consist of the modern Danish poetry, and +should commence with the celebrated “Ode to the +Birds” by Morten Borup, might appear in company at the +beginning of next season. To Ölenslager should be +allotted the principal part of the fourth volume; and it is my +opinion that amongst his minor pieces should be given a good +translation of his Aladdin, by which alone he has rendered his +claim to the title of a great poet indubitable. A proper +Danish Anthology cannot be contained in less than 4 volumes, the +literature being so copious. The first volume, as I said +before, might appear instanter, with no further trouble to +yourself than writing, if you should think fit, a page or two of +introductory matter.—Yours most truly, my dear Sir,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">17 <span class="smcap">Great Russell +Street</span>, <i>Decr.</i> 31, 1829.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I received your +note, and as it appears that you will not be disengaged till next +Friday evening (this day week) I will call then. You think +that no more than two volumes can be ventured on. Well! be +it so! The first volume can contain 70 choice +<i>Kæmpe Viser</i>; viz. all the heroic, all the +supernatural ballads (which two classes are by far the most +interesting), and a few of the historic and romantic songs. +The sooner the work is advertised the better, <i>for I am +terribly afraid of being forestalled in the Kæmpe Viser by +some of those Scotch blackguards</i> who affect to translate from +all languages, of which they are fully as ignorant as Lockhart is +of Spanish. I am quite ready with the first volume, which +might appear by the middle of February (the best time in the +whole season), and if we unite our strength in the second, I +think we can produce something worthy of fame, for we shall have +plenty of matter to employ talent upon.—Most truly +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">17 <span class="smcap">Great Russell +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Bloomsbury</span>, +<i>Jany.</i> 7, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I send the +prospectus for your inspection and for the correction of your +master hand. I have endeavoured to assume a Danish style, I +know not whether I have been successful. Alter, I pray you, +whatever false logic has crept into it, find a remedy for its +incoherencies, and render it fit for its intended <a +name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +86</span>purpose. I have had for the two last days a rising +headache which has almost prevented me doing anything. I +sat down this morning and translated a hundred lines of the +<i>May-day</i>; it is a fine piece.—Yours most truly, my +dear Sir,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">17 <span class="smcap">Great Russell +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Bloomsbury</span>, +<i>Jany.</i> 14, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I approve of the +prospectus in every respect; it is business-like, and there is +nothing flashy in it. I do not wish to suggest one +alteration. I am not idle: I translated yesterday from your +volume longish <i>Kæmpe Visers</i>, among which is the +“Death of King Hacon at Kirkwall in Orkney,” after +his unsuccessful invasion of Scotland. To-day I translated +“The Duke’s Daughter of Skage,” a noble ballad +of 400 lines. When I call again I will, with your +permission, retake Tullin and attack <i>The Surveyor</i>. +Allow me, my dear Sir, to direct your attention to +Ölenschlæger’s <i>St. Hems Aftenspil</i>, which +is the last in his Digte of 1803. It contains his best +lyrics, one or two of which I have translated. It might, I +think, be contained within 70 pages, and I could translate it in +3 weeks. Were we to give the whole of it we should gratify +Ölenschlæger’s wish expressed to you, that one +of his larger pieces should appear. But it is for you to +decide entirely on what <i>is</i> or what is <i>not</i> to be +done. When you see the <i>foreign</i> editor I should feel +much obliged if you would speak to him about my reviewing Tegner, +and enquire whether a <i>good</i> article on Welsh poetry would +be received. I have the advantage of not being a +Welsh-man. I would speak the truth, and would give +translations of some of the best Welsh poetry; and I really +believe that my translations would not be the worst that have +been made from the Welsh tongue.—Most truly yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>Jany.</i>, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I write this to +inform you that I am at No. 7 Museum St., Bloomsbury. I +have been obliged to decamp from Russell St. for the cogent +reason of an execution having been sent into the house, and I +thought myself happy in escaping with my things. I have got +half of the Manuscript from Mr. Richard Taylor, but many of the +pages must be rewritten owing to their being torn, etc. He +is printing the prospectus, but a proof has not yet been struck +off. Send me some as soon as you get them. I will +send one with a letter to <i>H. G.</i>—Yours eternally,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 87</span><span +class="smcap">To Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>Jany.</i> 25, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I find that you +called at mine, I am sorry that I was not at home. I have +been to Richard Taylor, and you will have the prospectuses this +afternoon. I have translated Ferroe’s +“Worthiness of Virtue” for you, and the two other +pieces I shall translate this evening, and you shall have them +all when I come on Wednesday evening. If I can at all +assist you in anything, pray let me know, and I shall be proud to +do it.—Yours most truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>Feby.</i> 20, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—To my great +pleasure I perceive that the books have all arrived safe. +But I find that, instead of an Icelandic Grammar, you have lent +me an <i>Essay on the origin of the Icelandic Language</i>, which +I here return. Thorlakson’s Grave-ode is +superlatively fine, and I translated it this morning, as I +breakfasted. I have just finished a translation of +Baggesen’s beautiful poem, and I send it for your +inspection.—Most sincerely yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p><i>P.S.</i>—When I come we will make the modifications +of this piece, if you think any are requisite, for I have various +readings in my mind for every stanza. I wish you a very +pleasant journey to Cambridge, and hope you will procure some +names amongst the literati.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>March</i> 9, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I have thought +over the Museum matter which we were talking about last night, +and it appears to me that it would be the very thing for me, +provided that it could be accomplished. I should feel +obliged if you would deliberate upon the best mode of proceeding, +so that when I see you again I may have the benefit of your +advice.—Yours most sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>To this letter Bowring replied the same day. He promised +to help in the Museum project “by every sort of counsel and +creation.” “I should rejoice to see you +<i>nicked</i> in the British Museum,” he concludes.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span><span +class="smcap">To Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>Friday Evening</i>, <i>May</i> 21, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I shall be happy +to accept your invitation to meet Mr. Grundtvig to-morrow +morning. As at present no doubt seems to be entertained of +Prince Leopold’s accepting the sovereignty of Greece, would +you have any objection to write to him concerning me? I +should be very happy to go to Greece in his service. I do +not wish to go in a civil or domestic capacity, and I have, +moreover, no doubt that all such situations have been long since +filled up; I wish to go in a military one, for which I am +qualified by birth and early habits. You might inform the +Prince that I have been for years on the +Commander-in-Chief’s List for a commission, but that I have +not had sufficient interest to procure an appointment. One +of my reasons for wishing to reside in Greece is, that the mines +of Eastern Literature would be acceptable to me. I should +soon become an adept in Turkish, and would weave and transmit to +you such an anthology as would gladden your very heart. As +for <i>The Songs of Scandinavia</i>, all the ballads would be +ready before departure, and as I should take books, I would in a +few months send you translations of the modern lyric +poetry. I hope this letter will not displease you. I +do not write it from <i>flightiness</i>, but from +thoughtfulness. I am uneasy to find myself at four and +twenty drifting on the sea of the world, and likely to continue +so.—Yours most sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +St.</span>, <i>June</i> 1, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I send you +<i>Hafbur and Signe</i> to deposit in the Scandinavian Treasury, +and I should feel obliged by your doing the following things.</p> +<p>1. Hunting up and lending me your Anglo-Saxon Dictionary +as soon as possible, for Grundtvig wishes me to assist him in the +translation of some Anglo-Saxon Proverbs.</p> +<p>2. When you write to Finn Magnussen to thank him for his +attention, pray request him to send the <i>Feeroiska Quida</i>, +or popular songs of Ferroe, and also <i>Broder Run’s +Historie</i>, <i>or the History of Friar Rush</i>, the book which +Thiele mentions in his <i>Folkesagn</i>.—Yours most +sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +Street</span>, <i>June</i> 7, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I have looked +over Mr. Grundtvig’s manuscripts. It is a very long +affair, and the language is Norman-Saxon. £40 would +not be an extravagant price for a transcript, and so <a +name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>they told him +at the museum. However, as I am doing nothing particular at +present, and as I might learn something from transcribing it, I +would do it for £20. He will call on you to-morrow +morning, and then if you please you may recommend me. The +character closely resembles the ancient Irish, so I think you can +answer for my competency.—Yours most truly,</p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +<blockquote><p><i>P.S.</i>—Do not lose the original copies +of the Danish translations which you sent to the <i>Foreign +Quarterly</i>, for I have no duplicates. I think <i>The +Roses</i> of Ingemann was sent; it is not printed; so if it be +not returned, we shall have to re-translate it.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">7 <span class="smcap">Museum +St.</span>, <i>Sept.</i> 14, 1830.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I return you the +Bohemian books. I am going to Norwich for some short time +as I am very unwell, and hope that cold bathing in October and +November may prove of service to me. My complaints are, I +believe, the offspring of ennui and unsettled prospects. I +have thoughts of attempting to get into the French service, as I +should like prodigiously to serve under Clausel in the next +Bedouin campaign. I shall leave London next Sunday and will +call some evening to take my leave; I cannot come in the morning, +as early rising kills me.—Most sincerely yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow’s next letter to Bowring that has been preserved +is dated 1835 and was written from Portugal. With that I +will deal when we come to Borrow’s travels in the +Peninsula. Here it sufficeth to note that during the years +of Borrow’s most urgent need he seems to have found a kind +friend if not a very zealous helper in the “Old +Radical” whom he came to hate so cordially.</p> +<h2><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +90</span>CHAPTER XIV<br /> +<span class="smcap">Borrow and The Bible Society</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> George Borrow should have +become an agent for the Bible Society, then in the third decade +of its flourishing career, has naturally excited doubts as to his +moral honesty. The position was truly a contrast to an +earlier ideal contained in the letter to his Norwich friend, +Roger Kerrison, that we have already given, in which, with all +the zest of a Shelley, he declares that he intends to live in +London, “write plays, poetry, etc., abuse religion, and get +myself prosecuted.” But that was in 1824, and Borrow +had suffered great tribulation in the intervening eight +years. He had acquired many languages, wandered far and +written much, all too little of which had found a +publisher. There was plenty of time for his religious +outlook to have changed in the interval, and in any case Borrow +was no theologian. The negative outlook of “Godless +Billy Taylor,” and the positive outlook of certain +Evangelical friends with whom he was now on visiting terms, were +of small account compared with the imperative need of making a +living—and then there was the passionate longing of his +nature for a wider sphere—for travelling activity which +should not be dependent alone upon the vagabond’s +crust. What matter if, as Harriet Martineau—most +generous and also most malicious of women, with much kinship with +Borrow in temperament—said, that his appearance before the +public as a devout agent of the Bible Society excited a +“burst of laughter from all who remembered the old Norwich +days”; what matter if another “scribbling +woman,” as Carlyle called such strident female writers as +were in vogue in mid-Victorian days—Frances Power +Cobbe—thought him “insincere”; these were +unable to comprehend the abnormal heart of Borrow, so entirely at +one with Goethe in <i>Wilhelm Meister’s +Wanderjahre</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +91</span>Bleibe nicht am Boden heften,<br /> +Frisch gewagt und frisch hinaus!<br /> +Kopf und Arm, mit heitern Kräften,<br /> +Ueberall sind sie zu Haus;<br /> +Wo wir uns der Sonne freuen,<br /> +Sind wir jede Sorge los;<br /> +Dass wir uns in ihr zerstreuen,<br /> +Darum ist die Welt so gross. <a name="citation91a"></a><a +href="#footnote91a" class="citation">[91a]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here was Borrow’s opportunity indeed. Verily I +believe that it would have been the same had it been a society +for the propagation of the writings of Defoe among the +Persians. With what zest would Borrow have undertaken to +translate <i>Moll Flanders</i> and <i>Captain Singleton</i> into +the languages of Hafiz and Omar! But the Bible Society was +ready to his hand, and Borrow did nothing by halves. A good +hater and a staunch friend, he was loyal to the Bible Society in +no half-hearted way, and not the most pronounced quarrel with +forces obviously quite out of tune with his nature led to any +real slackening of that loyalty. In the end a portion of +his property went to swell the Bible Society’s funds. <a +name="citation91b"></a><a href="#footnote91b" +class="citation">[91b]</a></p> +<p>When Borrow became one of its servants, the Bible Society was +only in its third decade. It was founded in the year 1804, +and had the names of William Wilberforce, Granville Sharp, and +Zachary Macaulay on its first committee. To circulate the +authorised version of the Bible without note or comment was the +first ideal that these worthy men set before them; never to the +entire satisfaction of the great printing organisations, which +already had a considerable financial interest in such a +circulation. For long years the words “Sold under +cost price” upon the Bibles of the Society excited mingled +feelings among those interested in the book trade. The +Society’s first idea was limited to Bibles in the English +tongue. This was speedily modified. <a +name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>A Bible +Society was set up in Nuremberg to which money was granted by the +parent organisation. A Bible in the Welsh language was +circulated broadcast through the Principality, and so the +movement grew. From the first it had one of its principal +centres in Norwich, where Joseph John Gurney’s house was +open to its committee, and at its annual gatherings at Earlham +his sister Elizabeth Fry took a leading part, while Wilberforce, +Charles Simeon, the famous preacher, and Legh Richmond, whose +<i>Dairyman’s Daughter</i> Borrow failed to appreciate, +were of the company. “Uncles Buxton and Cunningham +are here,” we find one of Joseph John Gurney’s +daughters writing in describing a Bible Society gathering. +This was John Cunningham, rector of Harrow, and it was his +brother who helped Borrow to his position in connection with the +Society, as we shall see. At the moment of these early +meetings Borrow is but a boy, meeting Joseph Gurney on the banks +of the river near Earlham, and listening to his discourse upon +angling. The work of the Bible Society in Russia may be +said to have commenced when one John Paterson of Glasgow, who had +been a missionary of the Congregational body, went to St. +Petersburg during those critical months of 1812 that Napoleon was +marching into Russia. Paterson indeed, William Canton tells +us, was “one of the last to behold the old Tartar wall and +high brick towers” and other splendours of the Moscow which +in a month or two were to be consumed by the flames. +Paterson was back again in St. Petersburg before the French were +at the gates of Moscow, and it is noteworthy that while Moscow +was burning, and the Czar was on his way to join his army, this +remarkable Scot was submitting to Prince Galitzin a plan for a +Bible Society in St. Petersburg, and a memorial to the Czar +thereon:</p> +<blockquote><p>The plan and memorial were examined by the Czar on +the 18th (of December); with a stroke of his pen he gave his +sanction—“So be it, Alexander”; and as he +wrote, the last tattered remnants of the Grand Army struggled +across the ice of the Niemen. <a name="citation92"></a><a +href="#footnote92" class="citation">[92]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>The Society was formed in January 1813, and when the Czar +returned to St. Petersburg in 1815, after the shattering of +Napoleon’s power, he authorised a new translation of the <a +name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>Bible into +modern Russian. From Russia it was not a far cry, where the +spirit of evangelisation held sway, to Manchuria and to +China. To these remote lands the Bible Society desired to +send its literature. In 1822 the gospel of St. Matthew was +printed in St. Petersburg in Manchu. Ten years later the +type of the whole New Testament in that language was lying in the +Russian capital. “All that was required was a Manchu +scholar to see the work through the press.” Here came +the chance for Borrow. At this period there resided at +Oulton Hall, Suffolk, but a few miles from Norwich, a family of +the name of Skepper, Edmund and Anne his wife, with their two +children, Breame and Mary. Mary married in 1817 one Henry +Clarke, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He died afterwards +of consumption. A posthumous child of the marriage, +Henrietta Mary, was born two months after her father died. +Mary Clarke, as she now was, threw herself with zest into all the +religious enthusiasms of the locality, and the Rev. Francis +Cunningham, Vicar of St. Margaret’s, Lowestoft, was one of +her friends. Borrow had met Mary Clarke on one of her +visits to Lowestoft, and she had doubtless been impressed with +his fine presence, to say nothing of the intelligence and varied +learning of the young man. The following note, the first +communication I can find from Borrow to his future wife, +indicates how matters stood at the time:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Clarke</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">St. +Giles</span>, <span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, 22 +<i>October</i>, 1832.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>,—According to +promise I transmit you a piece of Oriental writing, namely the +tale of Blue Beard, translated into Turkish by myself. I +wish it were in my power to send you something more worthy of +your acceptance, but I hope you will not disdain the gift, +insignificant though it be. Desiring to be kindly +remembered to Mr. and Mrs. Skepper and the remainder of the +family,—I remain, dear Madam, your most obedient humble +servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That Borrow owed his introduction to Mr. Cunningham to Mrs. +Clarke is clear, although Cunningham, in his letter to the Bible +Society urging the claims of Borrow, refers to the fact that a +“young farmer” in the neighbourhood had introduced +him. This was probably her brother, Breame <a +name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>Skepper. Dr. Knapp was of the opinion that Joseph +John Gurney obtained Borrow his appointment, but the recently +published correspondence of Borrow with the Bible Society makes +it clear that Cunningham wrote—on 27th December, +1832—recommending Borrow to the secretary, the Rev. Andrew +Brandram. How little he knew of Borrow is indicated by the +fact that he referred to him as “independent in +circumstances.” Brandram told Caroline Fox many years +afterwards that Gurney had effected the introduction, but this +was merely a lapse of memory. In fact we find Borrow asking +to be allowed to meet Gurney before his departure. In any +case he has himself told us, in one of the brief biographies of +himself that he wrote, that he promptly walked to London, +covering the whole distance of 112 miles in twenty-seven hours, +and that his expenses amounted to 5½d. laid out in a pint +of ale, a half-pint of milk, a roll of bread and two +apples. He reached London in the early morning, called at +the offices of the Bible Society in Earl Street, and was kindly +received by Andrew Brandram and Joseph Jowett, the two +secretaries. He was asked if he would care to learn Manchu, +and go to St. Petersburg. He was given six months for the +task, and doubtless also some money on account. He returned +to Norwich more luxuriously—by mail coach. In June, +1833, we find a letter from Borrow to Jowett, dated from Willow +Lane, Norwich, and commencing, “I have mastered Manchu, and +I should feel obliged by your informing the committee of the +fact, and also my excellent friend, Mr. Brandram.” A +long reply to this by Jowett is among my Borrow Papers, but the +Bible Society clearly kept copies of its letters, and a portion +of this one has been printed. It shows that Borrow went +through much heart-burning before his destiny was finally +settled. At last he was again invited to London, and found +himself as one of two candidates for the privilege of going to +Russia. The examination consisted of a Manchu hymn, of +which Borrow’s version seems to have proved the more +acceptable, and he afterwards printed it in his +<i>Targum</i>. Finally, on the 5th of July, 1833, Borrow +received a letter from Jowett offering him the appointment with a +salary of £200 a year and expenses. The letter +contained his first lesson in the then unaccustomed discipline of +the Evangelical vocabulary. He was not at first at home in +the precise measure <a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +95</span>of unction required by his new friends. Borrow had +spoken of the prospect of becoming “useful to the Deity, to +man, and to himself.” “Doubtless you +meant,” commented Jowett, “the prospect of glorifying +God,” and Jowett frankly tells him that his tone of +confidence in speaking of himself “had alarmed some of the +excellent members of our committee.” Borrow adapted +himself at once, and is congratulated by Jowett in a later +communication upon the “truly Christian” spirit of +his next letter.</p> +<p>By an interesting coincidence there was living in Norwich at +the moment when Borrow was about to leave it, a man who had long +identified himself with good causes in Russia, and had lived in +that country for a considerable period of his life. John +Venning was born in Totnes in 1776, and he is buried—in the +Rosary Cemetery—at Norwich, where he died in 1858, after +twenty-eight years’ residence in that city. He +started for St. Petersburg four years after John Howard had died, +ostensibly on behalf of the commercial house with which he was +associated, but with the intention of carrying on the work of +that great man in prison reform. Alexander I. was on the +throne, and he made Venning his friend, frequently conversing +with him upon religious subjects. He became the treasurer +of a society for the humanising of Russian prisons; but when +Nicholas became Czar in 1825 Venning’s work became more +difficult, though the Emperor was sympathetic. Venning +returned to England in 1830, and thus opportunely, in 1833, was +able to give his fellow-townsman letters of introduction to +Prince Galitzin and other Russian notables, so that Borrow was +able to set forth under the happiest auspices—with an +entire change of conditions from those eight years of +semi-starvation that he was now to leave behind him for +ever. Borrow left London for St. Petersburg on 31st July, +1833, not forgetting to pay his mother before he left the +£17 he had had to borrow during his time of stress. +Always devoted to his mother, Borrow sent her sums of money at +intervals from the moment the power of earning came to him. +We shall never know, we can only surmise, something of the +self-sacrificing devotion of that mother during the years in +which Borrow had failed to find remunerative work. Wherever +he wandered there had always been a home in the Willow Lane +cottage. It is probable that much the greater <a +name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>part of the +period of his eight years of penury was spent under her +roof. Yet we may be sure that the good mother never once +reproached her son. She had just that touch of idealism in +her character that made for faith and hope. In any case +never more was Borrow to suffer penury, or to be a burden on his +mother. Henceforth, to her dying day, she was to be his +devoted care.</p> +<h2><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>CHAPTER XV<br /> +<span class="smcap">St. Petersburg and John P. +Hasfeld</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrow</span> travelled by way of Hamburg +and Lübeck to Travemünde, whence he went by sea to St. +Petersburg, now called Petrograd, where he arrived on the +twentieth of August, 1833. He was back in London in +September, 1835, and thus it will be seen that he spent two years +in Russia. After the hard life he had led, everything was +now rose-coloured. “Petersburg is the finest city in +the world,” he wrote to Mr. Jowett; “neither London +nor Paris nor any other European capital which I have visited has +sufficient pretensions to enter into comparison with it in +respect to beauty and grandeur.” But the striking +thing about Borrow in these early years was his capacity for +making friends. He had not been a week in St. Petersburg +before he had gained the regard of one William Glen, who, in +1825, had been engaged by the Bible Society to translate the Old +Testament into Persian. The clever Scot, of whom Borrow was +informed by a competent judge that he was “a Persian +scholar of the first water,” was probably too heretical for +the Society, which recalled him, much to his chagrin. +“He is a very learned man, but of very simple and +unassuming manners,” wrote Borrow to Jowett. His +version of the <i>Psalms</i> appeared in 1830, and of +<i>Proverbs</i> in 1831. Thus he was going home in despair, +but seems to have had “good talk” on the way with +Borrow in St. Petersburg. In 1845 his complete Old +Testament in Persian appeared in Edinburgh. This William +Glen has been confused with another William Glen, a law student, +who taught Carlyle Greek, but they had nothing in common. +Borrow and Carlyle could not possibly have had friends in +common. Borrow was drawn towards this William Glen by his +enthusiasm for the Persian language. But Glen departed out +of his life very quickly. Hasfeld, who entered it about the +same time, was to stay longer. Hasfeld was a Dane, now +thirty-three years of age, <a name="page98"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 98</span>who, after a period in the Foreign +Office at Copenhagen, had come to St. Petersburg as an +interpreter to the Danish Legation, but made quite a good income +as a professor of European languages in cadet schools and +elsewhere. The English language and literature would seem +to have been his favourite topic. His friendship for Borrow +was a great factor in Borrow’s life in Russia and +elsewhere. If Borrow’s letters to Hasfeld should ever +come to light, they will prove the best that he wrote. +Hasfeld’s letters to Borrow were preserved by him. +Three of them are in my possession. Others were secured by +Dr. Knapp, who made far too little use of them. They are +all written in Danish on foreign notepaper: flowery, +grandiloquent productions we may admit, but if we may judge a man +by his correspondents, we have a revelation of a more human +Borrow than the correspondence with the friends at Earl Street +reveals:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">St. +Petersburg</span>, 6/18 <i>November</i>, 1836.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,—Much water +has run through the Neva since I last wrote to you, my last +letter was dated 5/17th April; the last letter I received from +you was dated Madrid, 23rd May, and I now see with regret that it +is still unanswered; it is, however, a good thing that I have not +written as often to you as I have thought about you, for +otherwise you would have received a couple of letters daily, +because the sun never sets without you, my lean friend, entering +into my imagination. I received the Spanish letter a day or +two before I left for Stockholm, and it made the journey with me, +for it was in my mind to send you an epistle from Svea’s +capital, but there were so many petty hindrances that I was +nearly forgetting myself, let alone correspondence. I lived +in Stockholm as if each day were to be my last, swam in +champagne, or rested in girls’ embraces. You +doubtless blush for me; you may do so, but don’t think that +that conviction will murder my almost shameless candour, the only +virtue which I possess, in a superfluous degree. In Sweden +I tried to be lovable, and succeeded, to the astonishment of +myself and everybody else. I reaped the reward on the most +beautiful lips, which only too often had to complain that the +fascinating Dane was faithless like the foam of the sea and the +ice of spring. Every wrinkle which seriousness had +impressed on my face vanished in joy and smiles; my frozen heart +melted and pulsed with the rapid beat of gladness; in short, I +was not recognisable. Now I have come back to my old +wrinkles, and make sacrifice again on the altar of friendship, +and when the incense, this letter, reaches you, then prove to me +your pleasure, wherever you may be, and let an echo of +friendship’s voice resound from Granada’s Alhambra or +Sahara’s deserts. But I know that you, <a +name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 99</span>good soul, +will write and give me great pleasure by informing me that you +are happy and well; when I get a letter from you my heart +rejoices, and I feel as if I were happy, and that is what +happiness consists of. Therefore let your soldierlike +letters march promptly to their place of +arms—paper—and move in close columns to St. +Petersburg, where they will find warm winter quarters. I +have received a letter from my correspondent in London, Mr. +Edward Thomas Allan, No. 11 North Audley St.; he informs me that +my manuscript has been promenading about, calling on publishers +without having been well received; some of them would not even +look at it, because it smelt of Russian leather; others kept it +for three or six weeks and sent it back with “Thanks for +the loan.” They probably used it to get rid of the +moth out of their old clothes. It first went to Longman and +Co.’s, Paternoster Row; Bull of Hollis St.; Saunders and +Otley, Conduit St.; John Murray of Albemarle St., who kept it for +three weeks; and finally it went to Bentley of New Burlington +St., who kept it for SIX weeks and returned it; now it is to pay +a visit to a Mr. Colburn, and if he won’t have the +abandoned child, I will myself care for it. If this finds +you in London, which is quite possible, see whether you can do +anything for me in this matter. Thank God, I shall not buy +bread with the shillings I perhaps may get for a work which has +cost me seventy nights, for I cannot work during the day. +In <i>The Athenæum</i>, No. 436, issued on the 3rd March +this year, you will find an article which I wrote, and in which +you are referred to; in the same paper you will also find an +extract from my translation. I hope that article will meet +with your approbation. Ivan Semionewitch sends his kind +regards to you. I dare not write any more, for then I +should make the letter a double one, and it may perhaps go after +you to the continent; if it reaches you in England, write AT ONCE +to your sincere friend,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">J. P. +Hasfeld</span>.</p> +<p>My address is, Stieglitz and Co., St. Petersburg.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">St. +Petersburg</span>, 9<i>th</i>/21<i>st</i> <i>July</i>, 1842.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I do not know +how I shall begin, for you have been a long time without any news +from me, and the fault is mine, for the last letter was from you; +as a matter of fact, I did produce a long letter for you last +year in September, but you did not get it, because it was too +long to send by post and I had no other opportunity, so that, as +I am almost tired of the letter, you shall, nevertheless, get it +one day, for perhaps you will find something interesting in it; I +cannot do so, for I never like to read over my own letters. +Six days ago I commenced my old hermit life; my sisters left me +on the 3rd/15th July, and are now, with God’s help, in +Denmark. They left with the French steamer +<i>Amsterdam</i>, and had two Russian ladies with them, who are +to spend a few months with us and visit the sea +watering-places. These ladies are the Misses Koladkin, and +have learnt English from me, and became my sisters’ friends +as soon as they could <a name="page100"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 100</span>understand each other. My +sisters have also made such good progress in your language that +they would be able to arouse your astonishment. They read +and understand everything in English, and, thank you, very much +for the pleasure you gave them with your “Targum”; +they know how to appreciate “King Christian stood by the +high mast,” and everything which you have translated of +languages with which they are acquainted. They have not had +more than sixty real lessons in English. After they had +taken ten lessons, I began, to their great despair, to speak +English, and only gave them a Danish translation when it was +absolutely necessary. The result was that they became so +accustomed to English that it scarcely ever occurs to them to +speak Danish together; when one cannot get away from me one must +learn from me. The brothers and sisters remaining behind +are now also to go to school when they get home, for they have +recognised how pleasant it is to speak a language which servants +and those around one do not understand. During all the +winter my dearest thought was how, this summer, I was going to +visit my long, good friend, who was previously lean and who is +now fat, and how I should let him fatten me a little, so as to be +able to withstand better the long winter in Russia; I would then +in the autumn, like the bears, go into my winter lair fat and +sleek, and of all these romantic thoughts none has materialised, +but I have always had the joy of thinking them and of continuing +them; I can feel that I smile when such ideas run through my +mind. I am convinced that if I had nothing else to do than +to employ my mind with pleasant thoughts, I should become fat on +thoughts alone. The principal reason why this real pleasure +journey had to be postponed, was that my eldest sister, Hanna, +became ill about Easter, and it was not until the end of June +that she was well enough to travel. I will not speak about +the confusion which a sick lady can cause in a bachelor’s +house, occasionally I almost lost my patience. For the +amount of roubles which that illness cost I could very well have +travelled to America and back again to St. Petersburg; I have, +however, the consolation in my reasonable trouble that the money +which the doctor and chemist have received was well spent. +The lady got about again after she had caused me and Augusta just +as much pain, if not more, than she herself suffered. +Perhaps you know how amiable people are when they suffer from +liver trouble; I hope you may never get it. I am not +anxious to have it either, for you may do what the devil you like +for such persons, and even then they are not satisfied. We +have had great festivals here by reason of the Emperor’s +marriage; I did not move a step to see the pageantry; moreover, +it is difficult to find anything fresh in it which would afford +me enjoyment; I have seen illuminations and fireworks, the only +attractive thing there was must have been the King of Prussia; +but as I do not know that good man, I have not very great +interest in him either; nor, so I am told, did he ask for me, and +he went away without troubling himself in the slightest about me; +it was a good thing that I did not bother him.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">J. P. H.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><a +name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span><span +class="smcap">St. Petersburg</span>, 26<i>th</i> +<i>April</i>/8<i>th</i> <i>May</i>, 1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I thank you for +your friendly letter of the 12th April, and also for the +invitation to visit you. I am thinking of leaving Russia +soon, perhaps permanently, for twenty-seven years are enough of +this climate. It is as yet undecided when I leave, for it +depends on business matters which must be settled, but I hope it +will be soon. What I shall do I do not yet know either, but +I shall have enough to live on; perhaps I shall settle down in +Denmark. It is very probable that I shall come to London in +the summer, and then I shall soon be at Yarmouth with you, my old +true friend. It was a good thing that you at last wrote, +for it would have been too bad to extend your disinclination to +write letters even to me. The last period one stays in a +country is strange, and I have many persons whom I have to +separate from. If you want anything done in Russia, let me +know promptly; when I am in movement I will write, so that you +may know where I am and what has become of me. I have been +ill nearly all the winter, but now feel daily better, and when I +get on the water I shall soon be well. We have already had +hot and thundery weather, but it has now become cool again. +I have already sold the greater part of my furniture, and am +living in furnished apartments which cost me seventy roubles per +month; I shall soon be tired of that. I am expecting a +letter from Denmark which will settle matters, and then I can get +ready and spread my wings to get out into the world, for this is +not the world, but Russia. I see you have changed houses, +for last year you lived at No. 37. With kindest regards to +your dear ones, I am, dear friend, yours sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">John P. +Hasfeld</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>CHAPTER XVI<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Manchu +Bible—“Targum”—“The +Talisman”</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> for the absurd object for which +Borrow was sent to Russia the less said the better. Any of +my readers who care for the survey of human folly associated with +undiscriminating Bible worship can read of this particular +example in the Society’s own records. <a +name="citation102"></a><a href="#footnote102" +class="citation">[102]</a> The Bible Society wanted the +Bible to be set up in the Manchu language, the official language +of the Chinese Court and Government. A Russian scholar +named Lipóftsof, who had spent twenty years in China, +undertook in 1821 to translate the New Testament into Manchu for +£560. Lipóftsof had done his work in 1826, and +had sent two manuscript copies to London. In 1832 the Rev. +William Swan of the London Missionary Society in passing through +St. Petersburg discovered a transcript of a large part of the Old +and New Testament in Manchu, made by one Pierot, a French Jesuit, +many years before. This transcript was unavailable, but a +second was soon afterwards forthcoming for free publication if a +qualified Manchu scholar could be found to see it through the +Press. Mr. Swan’s communication of these facts to the +Bible Society in London gave Borrow his opportunity. It was +his task to find the printers, buy the paper, and hire the +qualified compositors for setting the type. It must be +admitted Borrow worked hard for his £200 a year. +First he had to ask the diplomatists for permission from the +Russian Government, not now so friendly to British missionary +zeal. The Russian Bible Society had been suppressed in +1826. He succeeded here. Then he had to continue his +studies in the Manchu language. He had written from Norwich +to Mr. Jowett on 9th June, 1833, “I have mastered +Manchu,” but on 20th January, 1834, we find him writing to +the <a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 103</span>same +correspondent: “I pay about six shillings, English, for +each lesson, which I grudge not, for the perfect acquirement of +Manchu is one of my most ardent wishes.” <a +name="citation103a"></a><a href="#footnote103a" +class="citation">[103a]</a> Then he found the +printers—a German firm, Schultz and Beneze—who +probably printed the two little books of Borrow’s own for +him as a “make weight.” He purchased paper for +his Manchu translation with an ability that would have done +credit to a modern newspaper manager. Every detail of these +transactions is given in his letters to the Bible Society, and +one cannot but be amused at Borrow’s explanation to the +Reverend Secretary of the little subterfuges by which he proposed +to “best” the godless for the benefit of the +godly:</p> +<blockquote><p>Knowing but too well that it is the general +opinion of the people of this country that Englishmen are made of +gold, and that it is only necessary to ask the most extravagant +price for any article in order to obtain it, I told no person, to +whom I applied, who I was, or of what country; and I believe I +was supposed to be a German. <a name="citation103b"></a><a +href="#footnote103b" class="citation">[103b]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then came the composing or setting up of the type of the +book. When Borrow was called to account by his London +employers, who were not sure whether he was wasting time, he +replied: “I have been working in the printing-office as a +common compositor, between ten and thirteen hours every +day.” In another letter Borrow records further +difficulties with the printers after the composition had been +effected. Several of the working printers, it appears, +“went away in disgust.” Then he adds:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was resolved “to do or die,” and, +instead of distressing and perplexing the Committee with +complaints, to write nothing until I could write something +perfectly satisfactory, as I now can; and to bring about that +result I have spared neither myself nor my own money. I +have toiled in a close printing-office the whole day, during +ninety degrees of heat, for the purpose of setting an example, +and have bribed people to work whom nothing but bribes would +induce so to do. I am obliged to say all this in +self-justification. No member of the Bible Society would +ever have heard a syllable respecting what I have undergone but +for the question, “What has Mr. Borrow been about?” +<a name="citation103c"></a><a href="#footnote103c" +class="citation">[103c]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>It is +not my intention to add materially to the letters of Borrow from +Russia and from Spain that have already been published, although +many are in my possession. They reveal an aspect of the +life of Borrow that has been amply dealt with already, and it is +an aspect that interests me but little. Here, however, is +one hitherto unpublished letter that throws much light upon +Borrow’s work at this time, and shows, moreover, how well +he was learning the cant phrases which found acceptance with his +friends in Earl Street:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +the Rev. Andrew Brandram</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">St. +Petersburg</span>, 18<i>th</i> <i>Oct.</i>, 1833.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Reverend Sir</span>,—Supposing that +you will not be displeased to hear how I am proceeding, I have +taken the liberty to send a few lines by a friend <a +name="citation104"></a><a href="#footnote104" +class="citation">[104]</a> who is leaving Russia for +England. Since my arrival in Petersburg I have been +occupied eight hours every day in transcribing a Manchu +manuscript of the Old Testament belonging to Baron Schilling, and +I am happy to be able to say that I have just completed the last +of it, the Rev. Mr. Swan, the Scottish missionary, having before +my arrival copied the previous part. Mr. Swan departs to +his mission in Siberia in about two months, during most part of +which time I shall be engaged in collating our transcripts with +the original. It is a great blessing that the Bible Society +has now prepared the whole of the Sacred Scriptures in Manchu, +which will doubtless, when printed, prove of incalculable benefit +to tens of millions who have hitherto been ignorant of the will +of God, putting their trust in idols of wood and stone instead of +in a crucified Saviour. I am sorry to say that this country +in respect to religion is in a state almost as lamentable as the +darkest regions of the East, and the blame of this rests entirely +upon the Greek hierarchy, who discountenance all attempts to the +spiritual improvement of the people, who, poor things, are +exceedingly willing to receive instruction, and, notwithstanding +the scantiness of their means in general for the most part, +eagerly buy the tracts which a few pious English Christians cause +to be printed and hawked in the neighbourhood. But no one +is better aware, Sir, than yourself that without the Scriptures +men can never be brought to a true sense of their fallen and +miserable state, and of the proper means to be employed to free +themselves from the thraldom of Satan. The last few copies +which remained of the New Testament in Russian were purchased and +distributed a few days ago, and it is lamentable to be compelled +to state that at the present there appears no probability of +another edition being permitted in the modern language. It +is true that there are near twenty thousand copies of the +Sclavonic bible in the shop which is entrusted with the sale of +<a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span>the +books of the late Russian Bible Society, but the Sclavonian +translation is upwards of a thousand years old, having been made +in the eighth century, and differs from the dialect spoken at +present in Russia as much as the old Saxon does from the modern +English. Therefore it cannot be of the slightest utility to +any but the learned, that is, to about ten individuals in one +thousand. I hope and trust that the Almighty will see fit +to open some door for the illumination of this country, for it is +not to be wondered if vice and crime be very prevalent here when +the people are ignorant of the commandments of God. Is it +to be wondered that the people follow their every day pursuits on +the Sabbath when they know not the unlawfulness of so +doing? Is it to be wondered that they steal when only in +dread of the laws of the country, and are not deterred by the +voice of conscience which only exists in a few? This +accounts for their profanation of their Sabbath, their proneness +to theft, etc. It is only surprising that so much goodness +is to be found in their nature as is the case, for they are mild, +polite, and obliging, and in most of their faces is an expression +of great kindness and benignity. I find that the slight +knowledge which I possess of the Russian tongue is of the utmost +service to me here, for the common opinion in England that only +French and German are spoken by persons of any respectability in +Petersburg is a great and injurious error. The nobility, it +is true, for the most part speak French when necessity obliges +them, that is, when in company with foreigners who are ignorant +of Russian, but the affairs of most people who arrive in +Petersburg do not lie among the nobility, therefore a knowledge +of the language of the country, unless you associate solely with +your own countrymen, is indispensable. The servants speak +no language but their native tongue, and also nine out of ten of +the middle classes of Russians. I might as well address Mr. +Lipóftsof, who is to be my coadjutor in the edition of the +New Testament (in Manchu), in Hebrew as in either French or +German, for though he can read the first a little he cannot speak +a word of it or understand when spoken. I will now conclude +by wishing you all possible happiness. I have the honour to +be, etc.,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>When the work was done at so great a cost of money, and of +energy and enthusiasm on the part of George Borrow, it was found +that the books were useless. Most of these New Testaments +were afterwards sent out to China, and copies distributed by the +missionaries there as opportunities offered. It was found +then—why not before is not explained—that the Manchus +in China were able to read Chinese, preferring it to their own +language, which indeed had become almost confined to official +use. <a name="citation105"></a><a href="#footnote105" +class="citation">[105]</a> In fact what was <a +name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 106</span>a congenial +livelihood for Borrow—this production of a Bible in the +Manchu tongue—would have been death and desolation to the +highly placed caste of the Chinese Empire had these been +compelled to make use of Borrow’s efforts. The +experiment was not to be made. The Bible Society had such +comfort for their subscribers as is contained in the fact that in +the year 1859 editions of <i>St. Matthew</i> and <i>St. Mark</i> +were published in Manchu and Chinese side by side, the Manchu +text being a reprint of that edited by Borrow, and that these +books are still in use in Chinese Turkestan. But Borrow had +here to suffer one of the many disappointments of his life. +If not actually a gypsy he had all a gypsy’s love of +wandering. No impartial reader of the innumerable letters +of this period can possibly claim that there was in Borrow any of +the proselytising zeal or evangelical fervour which wins for the +names of Henry Martyn and of David Livingstone so much honour and +sympathy even among the least zealous. At the best +Borrow’s zeal for religion was of the order of Dr. Keate, +the famous headmaster of Eton—“Blessed are the pure +in heart . . . if you are not pure in heart, by God, I’ll +flog you!” Borrow had got his New Testaments printed, +and he wanted to distribute them because he wished to see still +more of the world, and had no lack of courage to carry out any +well-defined scheme of the organisation which was employing +him. Borrow had thrown out constant hints in his letters +home. People had suggested to him, he said, that he was +printing Testaments for which he would never find readers. +If you wish for readers, they had said to him, “you must +seek them among the natives of Pekin and the fierce hordes of +desert Tartary.” And it was this last most courageous +thing that Borrow proposed. Let him, he said to Mr. Jowett, +fix his headquarters at Kiachta upon the northern frontier of +China. The Society should have an agent there:</p> +<blockquote><p>I am a person of few words, and will therefore +state without circumlocution that I am willing to become that +agent. I speak Russ, Manchu, and the Tartar or broken +Turkish of the Russian steppes, and have also some knowledge of +Chinese, which I might easily improve at Kiachta, half of the +inhabitants of which town are Chinamen. I am therefore not +altogether unqualified for such an adventure. <a +name="citation106"></a><a href="#footnote106" +class="citation">[106]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>The +Bible Committee considered this and other plans through the +intervening months, and it seems clear that at the end they would +have sanctioned some form of missionary work for Borrow in the +Chinese Empire; but on 1st June, 1835, he wrote to say that the +Russian Government, solicitous of maintaining good relations with +China, would not grant him a passport across Siberia except on +the condition that he carried not one single Manchu Bible +thither. <a name="citation107"></a><a href="#footnote107" +class="citation">[107]</a> And so Borrow’s dreams +were left unfulfilled. He was never to see China or the +farther East, although, because he was a dreamer and like his +hero, Defoe, a bit of a liar, he often said he had. In +September, 1835, he was back in England awaiting in his +mother’s home in Norwich further commissions from his +friends of the Bible Society.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Work on the Manchu New Testament did not entirely absorb +Borrow’s activities in St. Petersburg. He seems to +have made a proposition to another organisation, as the following +letter indicates. The proposal does not appear to have +borne any fruit:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Prayer Book and Homily Society</span>,<br /> +No. 4 <span class="smcap">Exeter Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">London</span>, <i>January</i> 16<i>th</i>, +1835.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—Your letters dated July +and November 17, 1834, and addressed to the Rev. F. Cunningham, +have been laid before the Committee of the Prayer Book and Homily +Society, who have agreed to print the translation of the first +three Homilies into the Russian language at St. Petersburg, under +the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Biller, so soon as they shall have +caused the translation to undergo a thorough revision, and shall +have certified the same to this Society. I write by this +post to Mrs. Biller on the subject. In respect to the +second Homily in Manchu, if we rightly understand your statement, +an edition of five hundred copies may be sent forth, the whole +expense of which, including paper and printing, will amount to +about £12. If we are correct in this the Committee +are willing to bear the expense of five hundred copies, by way of +trial, their wish being this, viz.: that printed copies should be +put into the hands of the most competent persons, who shall be +invited to offer such remarks on the translation as shall seem +desirable; especially that Dr. Morrison of Canton should be +requested to submit copies to the inspection of Manchu scholars +as he shall think fit. When the translation has been +thoroughly revised, the Committee will consider the propriety of +printing a larger edition. They think that the plan of +submitting copies in letters of gold to the <a +name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>inspection +of the highest personages in China should probably be deferred +till the translation has been thus revised. We hope that +this resolution will be satisfactory to you; but the Committee, +not wishing to prescribe a narrower limit than such as is +strictly necessary, have directed me to say, that should the +expense of an edition of five hundred copies of the Homily in +Manchu exceed £12, they will still be willing to meet it, +but not beyond the sum of £15.</p> +<p>Should you print this edition be pleased to furnish us with +twenty-five copies, and send twenty-five copies at the least to +Rev. Dr. Morrison, at Canton, if you have the means of doing so; +if not, we should wish to receive fifty copies, that <i>we</i> +may send twenty-five to Canton. In this case you will be at +liberty to draw a bill upon us for the money, within the limits +specified above, in such manner as is most convenient. +Possibly Mr. and Mrs. Biller may be able to assist you in this +matter. Believe me, dear Sir, yours most sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">C. R. +Pritchett</span>.</p> +<p>Mr. G. Borrow.</p> +<p>I am not aware whether I am addressing a clergyman or a +layman, and therefore shall direct as above. Will you be so +kind as to send the MS. of the Russian Homilies to Mrs. +Biller?</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During Borrow’s last month or two in St. Petersburg he +printed two thin octavo volumes of translations—some of +them verses which, undeterred by the disheartening reception of +earlier efforts, he had continued to make from each language in +succession that he had the happiness to acquire, although most of +the poems are from his old portfolios. These little books +were named <i>Targum</i> and <i>The Talisman</i>. Dr. Knapp +calls the latter an appendix to the former. They are +absolutely separate volumes of verse. The publishers, it +will be seen, are the German firm that printed the Manchu New +Testament, Schultz and Beneze. Borrow’s preface to +<i>Targum</i> is dated “St. Petersburg, June 1, +1835.” Here in <i>Targum</i> we find the trial poem +which in competition with a rival candidate had won him the +privilege of going to Russia for the Bible Society—<i>The +Mountain Chase</i>. Here also among new verses are some +from the Arabic, the Persian, and the Turkish. If it be +true, as his friend Hasfeld said, that here was a poet who was +able to render another without robbing the garland of a single +leaf—that would but prove that the poetry which Borrow +rendered was not of the first order. Nor taking another +standard—the capacity to render <a name="page109"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 109</span>the ballad with a force that +captures “the common people”—can we agree with +William Bodham Donne, who was delighted with <i>Targum</i> and +said that “the language and rhythm are vastly superior to +Macaulay’s <i>Lays of Ancient Rome</i>.” In +<i>The Talisman</i> we have four little poems from the Russian of +Pushkin followed by another poem, <i>The Mermaid</i>, by the same +author. Three other poems in Russian and Polish complete +the little book. Borrow left behind him in St. Petersburg +with his friend, Hasfeld, a presentation copy for Pushkin, who, +when he received it, expressed regret that he had not met his +translator while Borrow was in St. Petersburg.</p> +<h2><a name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +110</span>CHAPTER XVII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Three Visits to Spain</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> his journey to Russia Borrow +had acquired valuable experience, but nothing in the way of fame, +although his mother had been able to record in a letter to St. +Petersburg that she had heard at a Bible Society gathering in +Norwich his name “sounded through the hall” by Mr. +Joseph John Gurney and Mr. Cunningham, to her great +delight. “All this is very pleasing to me,” she +said, “God bless you!” Even more pleasing to +Borrow must have been a letter from Mary Clarke, his future wife, +who was able to tell him that she heard Francis Cunningham refer +to him as “one of the most extraordinary and interesting +individuals of the present day.” But these tributes +were not all-satisfying to an ambitious man, and this Borrow +undoubtedly was. His Russian journey was followed by five +weeks of idleness in Norwich varied by the one excitement of +attending a Bible meeting at Oulton with the Reverend Francis +Cunningham in the chair, when “Mr. George Borrow from +Russia” <a name="citation110"></a><a href="#footnote110" +class="citation">[110]</a> made one of the usual conventional +missionary speeches, Mary Clarke’s brother, Breame Skepper, +being also among the orators. Borrow begged for more work +from the Society. He urged the desirability of carrying out +its own idea of an investigation in Portugal and perhaps also in +Spain, and hinted that he could write a small volume concerning +what he saw and heard which might cover the expense of the +expedition. So much persistency conquered. Borrow +sailed from London on 6th November, 1835, and reached Lisbon on +12th November, this his first visit to the Peninsula lasting +exactly eleven months. The next four years and six months +were to be spent mainly in <a name="page111"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 111</span>Spain. Broadly the time +divides itself in the following fashion:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>1st Tour (<i>via</i> Lisbon), Nov. 1835 to Oct. 1836.</p> +</td> +<td><p>2nd Tour (<i>via</i> Cadiz), Nov. 1836 to Sept. 1838.</p> +</td> +<td><p>3rd Tour (<i>via</i> Cadiz), Dec. 1838 to Mar. 1840.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lisbon.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Cadiz.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Cadiz.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mafia.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Lisbon.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Seville.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Evora.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Seville.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Madrid.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Badajoz.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Madrid.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Gibraltar.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Madrid.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Salamanca.</p> +</td> +<td><p>Tangier.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p>Coruña.</p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p>Oviedo.</p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p>Toledo.</p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>What a world of adventure do the mere names of these places +call up. Borrow entered the Peninsula at an exciting period +of its history. Traces of the great war in which +Napoleon’s legions faced those of Wellington still +abounded. Here and there a bridge had disappeared, and some +of Borrow’s strange experiences on ferry-boats were +indirectly due to the results of Napoleon’s ambition. +Everywhere there was still war in the land. Portugal indeed +had just passed through a revolution. The partisans of the +infant Queen Maria II. had been fighting with her uncle Dom +Miguel for eight years, and it was only a few short months before +Borrow landed at Lisbon that Maria had become undisputed +queen. Spain, to which Borrow speedily betook himself, was +even in a worse state. She was in the throes of a six +years’ war. Queen Isabel II., a child of three, +reigned over a chaotic country with her mother Dona Christina as +regent; her uncle Don Carlos was a formidable claimant to the +throne and had the support of the absolutist and clerical +parties. Borrow’s political sympathies were always in +the direction of absolutism; but in religion, although a staunch +Church of England man, he was certainly an anti-clerical one in +Roman Catholic Spain. In any case he steered judiciously +enough between contending factions, describing the fanatics of +either side with vigour and sometimes with humour. Mr. +Brandram’s injunction to Borrow “to be on his guard +against becoming too much committed to one particular +party” seems to have been unnecessary.</p> +<p>Borrow’s three expeditions to Spain have more to be said +for them than had his journey to St. Petersburg. The <a +name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 112</span>work of the +Bible Society was and is at its highest point of human service +when distributing either the Old or the New Testament in +Christian countries, Spain, England, or another. Few there +be to-day in any country who, in the interests of civilisation, +would deny to the Bible a wider distribution. In a remote +village of Spain a Bible Society’s colporteur, carrying a +coloured banner, sold me a copy of Cipriano de Valera’s New +Testament for a peseta. But in the minds of the worthy +people who ran the Bible Society eighty years ago it was not so +much that humanity was to be bettered as that Roman Catholicism +was to be worsened. Every New Testament sold in Spain was +in the eyes of the English fanatic who subscribed his silver a +blow to the Church of that land. Otherwise and as to the +humanising influence of the propaganda it may be said that the +villages of Spain that Borrow visited could even at that time +compare favourably, morally and educationally, with villages of +his own county of Norfolk at the same period. The morals of +the agricultural labourers of the English fen country eighty +years ago were a scandal, and the peasantry read nothing; more +than half of them could not read. They had not, moreover, +the humanising passion for song and dance that Andalusia +knew. But this is not to deny that the Bible Society under +Borrow’s instrumentality did a good work in Spain, nor that +they did it on the whole in a broad and generous way. +Borrow admits that there was a section of the Roman Catholic +clergy “favourably disposed towards the circulation of the +Gospel,” and the Society actually fixed upon a Roman +Catholic version of the Spanish Bible, that by Scio de San +Miguel, although this version Borrow considered a bad +translation. Much has been said about the aim of the Bible +Society to provide the Bible without notes or comment—in +its way a most meritorious aim, although then as now opposed to +the instinct of a large number of the priests of the Roman +Church. It is true that their attitude does not in any way +possess the sanction of the ecclesiastical authorities. It +may be urged, indeed, that the interpretation of the Bible by a +priest, usually of mature judgment, and frequently of a higher +education than the people with whom he is associated, is at least +as trustworthy as its interpretation at the hands of very +partially educated young women and exceedingly inadequately +equipped young <a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>men who to-day provide interpretation and comment in so +many of the Sunday Schools of Protestant countries.</p> +<p>Behold George Borrow, then, first in Portugal and a little +later in Spain, upon his great mission—avowedly at first a +tentative mission—rather to see what were the prospects for +Bible distribution than to distribute Bibles. But +Borrow’s zeal knew no such limitations. Before very +long he had a shop in one of the principal streets of +Madrid—the Calle del Principe—much more in the heart +of things than the very prosperous Bible Society of our day +ventures upon. <a name="citation113"></a><a href="#footnote113" +class="citation">[113]</a> Meanwhile he is at present in +Portugal not very certain of his movements, and he writes to his +old friend Dr. Bowring the following letter with a request with +which Bowring complied, although in the coldest manner:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Dr. John Bowring</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Evora in the +Alemtejo</span>, 27 <i>Decr.</i>, 1835.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—Pray excuse me for +troubling you with these lines. I write to you, as usual, +for assistance in my projects, convinced that you will withhold +none which it may be in your power to afford, more especially +when by so doing you will perhaps be promoting the happiness of +our fellow creatures. I returned from dear, glorious Russia +about three months since, after having edited there the Manchu +New Testament in eight volumes. I am now in Portugal, for +the Society still do me the honour of employing me. For the +last six weeks I have been wandering amongst the wilds of the +Alemtejo and have introduced myself to its rustics, banditti, +etc., and become very popular amongst them, but as it is much +more easy to introduce oneself to the cottage than the hall +(though I am not entirely unknown in the latter), I want you to +give or procure me letters to the most liberal and influential +minds of Portugal. I likewise want a letter from the +Foreign Office to Lord De Walden, in a word, I want to make what +interest I can towards obtaining the admission of the Gospel of +Jesus into the public schools of Portugal which are about to be +<a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>established. I beg leave to state that this is +<i>my plan</i>, and not other persons’, as I was merely +sent over to Portugal to observe the disposition of the people, +therefore I do not wish to be named as an Agent of the B.S., but +as a person who has plans for the mental improvement of the +Portuguese; should I receive <i>these letters</i> within the +space of six weeks it will be time enough, for before setting up +my machine in Portugal I wish to lay the foundation of something +similar in Spain. When you send the Portuguese letters +direct thus:</p> +<p style="text-align: right">Mr. George Borrow,<br /> +to the care of Mr. Wilby,<br /> +Rua Dos Restauradores, Lisbon.</p> +<p>I start for Spain to-morrow, and I want letters something +similar (there is impudence for you) for Madrid, <i>which I +should like to have as soon as possible</i>. I do not much +care at present for an introduction to the Ambassador at Madrid, +as I shall not commence operations seriously in Spain until I +have disposed of Portugal. I will not apologise for writing +to you in this manner, for you know me, but I will tell you one +thing, which is that the letter which you procured for me, on my +going to St. Petersburg, from Lord Palmerston, assisted me +wonderfully. I called twice at your domicile on my return; +the first time you were in Scotland, the second in France, and I +assure you I cried with vexation. Remember me to Mrs. +Bowring and God bless you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p><i>P.S.</i>—I am told that Mendizábal is liberal, +and has been in England; perhaps he would assist me.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During this eleven months’ stay in the Peninsula Borrow +made his way to Madrid, and here he interviewed the British +Minister, Sir George Villiers, afterwards fourth Earl of +Clarendon, and had received a quite remarkable encouragement from +him for the publication and distribution of the Bible. He +also interviewed the Spanish Prime Minister, Mendizábal, +“whom it is as difficult to get nigh as it is to approach +the North Pole,” and he has given us a picturesque account +of the interview in <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. It was +agreed that 5,000 copies of the Spanish Testament were to be +reprinted from Scio’s text at the expense of the Bible +Society, and all these Borrow was to handle as he thought +fit. Then Borrow made his way to Granada, where, under date +30th August, 1836, his autograph may be read in the +visitors’ book of the Alhambra:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><i>George Borrow +Norvicensis</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 115</span>Here +he studied his friends the gypsies, now and probably then, as we +may assume from his <i>Zincali</i>, the sordid scum on the +hillside of that great city, but now more assuredly than then +unutterably demoralised by the numerous but curious tourists who +visit this rabble under police protection, the very policeman or +gendarme not despising a peseta for his protective +services. But Borrow’s hobbies included the Romanies +of every land, and a year later he produced and published a gypsy +version of the Gospel of St. Luke. In October, 1836, Borrow +was back in England. He found that the Bible Society +approved of him. In November of the same year he left +London for Cadiz on his second visit to Spain. The journey +is described in <i>The Bible in Spain</i>; but here, from my +Borrow Papers, is a kind letter that Mr. Brandram wrote to +Borrow’s mother on the occasion:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">No. 10 <span +class="smcap">East Street</span>, <i>Jany.</i> 11, 1837.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,—I have the +joyful news to send you that your son has again safely arrived at +Madrid. His journey we were aware was exceedingly perilous, +more perilous than we should have allowed him to take had we +sooner known the extent of the danger. He begs me to write, +intending to write to you himself without delay. He has +suffered from the intense cold, but nothing beyond +inconvenience. Accept my congratulations, and my best +wishes that your dear son may be preserved to be your comfort in +declining years—and may the God of all consolation himself +deign to comfort your heart by the truths of that holy volume +your son is endeavouring, in connection with our Society, to +spread abroad.—Believe me, dear Madam, yours +faithfully,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">A. +Brandram</span>.</p> +<p>Mrs. Borrow, Norwich.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A brilliant letter from Seville followed soon after, and then +he went on to Madrid, not without many adventures. +“The cold nearly killed me,” he said. “I +swallowed nearly two bottles of brandy; it affected me no more +than warm water.” This to kindly Mr. Brandram, who +clearly had no teetotaler proclivities, for the letter, as he +said, “filled his heart with joy and gladness.” +Meanwhile those five thousand copies of the New Testament were +a-printing, Borrow superintending the work with the assistance of +a new friend, Dr. Usoz. “As soon as the book is +printed and issued,” he tells Mr. Brandram, “I will +ride forth from Madrid into the wildest parts of Spain, . . +.” and so, after some correspondence <a +name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>with the +Society which is quite entertaining, he did. The reader of +<i>The Bible in Spain</i> will note some seventy separate towns +and villages that Borrow visited, not without countless +remarkable adventures on the way. “I felt some +desire,” he says in <i>The Romany Rye</i>, “to meet +with one of those adventures which upon the roads of England are +generally as plentiful as blackberries in autumn.” +Assuredly in this tour of Spanish villages Borrow met with no +lack of adventures. The committee of the Bible Society +authorised this tour in March, 1837, and in May Borrow started +off on horseback attended by his faithful servant, Antonio. +This tour was to last five months, and “if I am +spared,” he writes to his friend Hasfeld, “and have +not fallen a prey to sickness, Carlists, banditti, or wild +beasts, I shall return to Madrid.” He hopes a little +later, he tells Hasfeld, to be sent to China. We have then +a glimpse of his servant, the excellent Antonio, which +supplements that contained in <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. +“He is inordinately given to drink, and is of so +quarrelsome a disposition that he is almost constantly involved +in some broil.” Not all his weird experiences were +conveyed in his letters to the Bible Society’s +secretary. Some of these letters, however—the more +highly coloured ones—were used in <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>, word for word, and wonderful reading they must have +made for the secretary, who indeed asked for more, although, with +a view to keeping Borrow humble—an impossible +task—Mr. Brandram takes occasion to say “Mr. +Graydon’s letters, as well as yours, are deeply +interesting,” Graydon being a hated rival, as we shall +see. The question of money was also not overlooked by the +assiduous secretary. “I know you are no +accountant,” he writes, “but do not forget there are +some who are,” and a financial document was forwarded to +Borrow about this time as a stimulus and a warning.</p> +<p>But Borrow was happy, for next to the adventures of five +glorious months in the villages between Madrid and Coruña +nothing could be more to his taste than a good, wholesome +quarrel. He was imprisoned by order of the Spanish +Government and released on the intervention of the British +Embassy. He tells the story so graphically in <i>The Bible +in Spain</i> that it is superfluous to repeat it; but here he +does not tell of the great quarrel with regard <a +name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 117</span>to +Lieutenant Graydon that led him to attack that worthy zealot in a +letter to the Bible Society. This attack did indeed cause +the Society to recall Graydon, whose zealous proclamation of +anti-Romanism must, however, have been more to the taste of some +of its subscribers than Borrow’s “trimming” +methods. Moreover, Graydon worked for love of the cause and +required no salary, which must always have been in his +favour. Borrow was ten days in a Madrid prison, and there, +as ever, he had extraordinary adventures if we may believe his +own narrative, but they are much too good to be torn from their +context. Suffice to say here that in the actual +correspondence we find breezy controversy between Borrow and the +Society. Borrow thought that the secretary had called in +question the accuracy of his statements as to this or that +particular in his conduct. Ever a fighter, he appealed to +the British Embassy for confirmation of his word, and finally Mr. +Brandram suggested he should come back to England for a time and +talk matters over with the members of the committee. An +interesting letter to his future wife belongs to this period:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Clarke</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Toledo</span>, +<i>Decr.</i> 5, 1837.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,—I received +your letter the day previous to my leaving Madrid for this place, +whither I arrived in safety on the 2nd inst. I have availed +myself of the very first opportunity of answering it which has +presented itself. Permit me in the first place to +sympathise sincerely in the loss which you have, it appears, +lately sustained in your excellent brother, more especially as he +was my own good kind friend. I little deemed when I parted +from him only one short year since, at Oulton, that I was doomed +never to press his honest hand again; but why should we +grieve? He was a devout and humble Christian, and we have +no reason to doubt that he has been admitted to the joys of his +Lord; he was also zealous in his way, and although he had but two +talents entrusted to him, he turned them to the best account and +doubled them; perhaps he now rules over as many heavenly cities; +therefore why, why should we grieve? Indeed it is possible +that if we knew all, we should deem that we had high and cogent +reason to rejoice that the Lord has snatched him from earth and +earthly ties at this particular season. His principles were +very excellent, but an evil and undue influence, continually +exerted over him, might have gradually corrupted his heart, until +it became alienated from loyalty and true religion, which are +indeed inseparable; <a name="page118"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 118</span>for the latter he might have +substituted the vulgar savage bigotry of what is called +“Dissent,” for the former “Radicalism,” +that upas tree of the British Isles whose root is in the infernal +pit.</p> +<p>You have stated to me how unpleasantly you are situated, and +certain heavy trials which you have lately been subjected +to. You have, moreover, done me the honour to ask my advice +upon these points. I give it without hesitation and in a +very few words. Maintain unflinchingly your right, your +whole right, without yielding one particle, without abandoning +one position, as the slightest manifestation of weakness and +hesitation will be instantly taken advantage of by your +adversaries, and be fraught with danger to yourself. Permit +me here to state that it was in anticipation of something allied +to the evil spirit which has lately been displayed towards you, I +advised you on my last visit never to be persuaded to resign the +house which you now occupy; it is one of the strongest of your +entrenchments—abandon it and the foot of the enemy is in +your camp, and with the help of law and chicanery you might be +reduced to extremity. A line of the poet Spencer is +strongly applicable to your situation:</p> +<p style="text-align: center">“Be firm, be firm, and +everywhere be firm.”</p> +<p>I would likewise strongly advise that with the least possible +delay you call in the entire amount of whatever claim you possess +on the landed property lately your brother’s, else I +foresee that you will be involved in an endless series of dispute +and litigation, which by one single act of resolution you may +avoid. Remember that no forbearance on your part will be +properly appreciated, and that every kindly feeling and desire of +conciliation which you may display, will be set down to fear, and +the consciousness of standing on weak ground. I am old in +the knowledge of the world and those who dwell upon it, and would +rather trust myself to the loving mercies of the hungry wolves of +the Spanish mountains, than to the generosity and sense of +justice of the Radicals of England. However determined you +may show yourself, no reasonable person can cast any blame upon +you, for from the contents of your letter, it appears, that your +enemies have kept no terms with you, and entirely unprovoked, +have done all in their power to outrage and harrow your +feelings. Enough on this point.</p> +<p>Toledo was formerly the capital of Spain. Its population +at present barely amounts to fifteen thousand souls, though in +the time of the Romans and also during the Middle Ages, its +population is said to have amounted to between two and three +hundred thousand souls, which at present however does not amount +to fifteen thousand. It is situated about twelve leagues +(40 miles) to the westward of Madrid, and is built upon a steep +rocky hill, round which flows the Tagus on all sides but the +North. It still possesses a great many remarkable edifices, +notwithstanding that it has long since fallen into decay. +Its Cathedral is the most magnificent of Spain, and is the See of +<a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 119</span>the +Primate. In the tower of this Cathedral is the famous bell +of Toledo, the largest in the world, with the exception of the +monster-bell of Moscow, which I have also seen. It weighs +1543 arrobes, or 37-032 pounds. It has, however, a +disagreeable sound, owing to a large cleft in its side. +Toledo could once boast the finest pictures in Spain, but many +were stolen or destroyed [by the] French during the Peninsular +War, and still more have lately been removed by order of the +Government. Perhaps the most remarkable still +remains. I allude to that which represents the burial of +the Count of Orgaz, the masterpiece of Domenico the Greek, a most +extraordinary genius some of whose productions possess merit of a +very high order; the picture in question is in the little parish +church of San Tomé, at the bottom of the aisle, at the +left hand of the altar. Could it be purchased, I should say +it would be cheap at £5,000. You will easily guess +that I did not visit Toledo for the sake of seeing its +curiosities, but rather in the hope of propagating the +Word. I have this day caused three hundred advertisements +to be affixed to the walls, informing the people where it is to +be had. I have humble hope in the Lord that he will bless +my labours, notwithstanding that Toledo abounds with priests, +friars, and other minions of cruel Rome. Should you see my +dear Mrs. Ritson, pray remember me kindly to her and assure her +that I often think of her, and the same you may say to Miss +Henrietta. I hope my dear Mother is well. God bless +you at all times and seasons.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +<p><i>P.S.</i>—My Gipsy Translation of Luke is ready for +the press, and I shall commence printing it as soon as I return +to Madrid. I hope that in the event of any of these +singular people visiting your neighbourhood you will seek them +out, and speak to them of Christ, and tell them what is being +done for their brethren in a far foreign land. A Gipsy +woman and her child have paid me several visits since my arrival +here; her husband is in the prison for mule-stealing, and next +week departs for ten years slavery in the galleys. She is +in great trouble and affliction, and says that I am the only +friend she has ever met with in Spain. She goes about +telling fortunes, in order to support her husband in prison, +notwithstanding that he had previously abandoned her, and +departed for Granada with another Gypsy woman of the name of +Aurora, who persuaded him to commit the robbery, for which he is +now suffering. If this is not conjugal affection, what +is?</p> +<p>Mrs. Clarke,<br /> + Oulton Cottage,<br /> + Lowestoft,<br /> + Suffolk,<br /> + + +England.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In the beginning of September, 1838, Borrow was again <a +name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>in England, +when he issued a lengthy and eloquent defence of his conduct and +a report on “Past and Future Operations in +Spain.” In December of the same year Borrow was again +on his way to Cadiz upon his third and last visit to Spain.</p> +<p>Borrow reached Cadiz on this his last visit on 31st December, +1838, and went straight to Seville, where he arrived on 2nd +January, 1839. Here he took a beautiful little house, +“a paradise in its way,” in the Plazuela de la Pila +Seca, and furnished it—clearly at the expense of his friend +Mrs. Clarke of Oulton, who must have sent him a cheque for the +purpose. He had been corresponding regularly with Mrs. +Clarke, who had told him of her difficulties with lawyers and +relatives, and Borrow had advised her to cut the Gordian knot and +come to Spain. But Mrs. Clarke and her daughter, Henrietta, +did not arrive from England until June.</p> +<p>In the intervening months Borrow had been working more in his +own interests than in those of the patient Bible Society, for he +started to gather material for his <i>Gypsies in Spain</i>, and +this book was for the most part actually written in +Seville. It was at this period that he had the many +interviews with Colonel Elers Napier that we quote at length in +our next chapter.</p> +<p>A little later he is telling Mr. Brandram of his adventure +with the blind girl of Manzanares who could talk in the Latin +tongue, which she had been taught by a Jesuit priest, an episode +which he retold in <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. “When +shall we hear,” he asks, “of an English rector +instructing a beggar girl in the language of Cicero?” +To which Mr. Brandram, who was rector of Beckenham, replied +“Cui bono?” The letters of this period are the +best that he ever wrote, and are incorporated more exactly than +the earlier ones in <i>The Bible in Spain</i>.</p> +<p>Four letters to his mother within the period of his second and +third visits may well be presented together here from my Borrow +Papers:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Ann Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Madrid</span>, +<i>July</i> 27, 1838.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mother</span>,—I am in +perfect health though just returned from a long expedition in +which I have been terribly <a name="page121"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 121</span>burnt by the sun. In about ten +days I sold nearly a thousand Testaments among the labourers of +the plains and mountains of Castille and La Mancha. +Everybody in Madrid is wondering and saying such a thing is a +miracle, as I have not entered a town, and the country people are +very poor and have never seen or heard of the Testament +before. But I confess to you that I dislike my situation +and begin to think that I have been deceived; the B.S. have had +another person on the sea-coast who has nearly ruined their cause +in Spain by circulating seditious handbills and tracts. The +consequence has been that many of my depots have been seized in +which I kept my Bibles in various parts of the country, for the +government think that he is employed by me; I told the B.S. all +along what would be the consequence of employing this man, but +they took huff and would scarce believe me, and now all my words +are come true; I do not blame the government in the slightest +degree for what they have done in many points, they have shown +themselves to be my good friends, but they have been driven to +the step by the insane conduct of the person alluded to. I +told them frankly in my last letter that I would leave their +service if they encouraged him; for I will not be put in prison +again on his account, and lose another servant by the gaol fever, +and then obtain neither thanks nor reward. I am going out +of town again in a day or two, but I shall now write very +frequently, therefore be not alarmed for I will run into no +danger. Burn this letter and speak to no one about it, nor +any others that I may send. God bless you, my dear +mother.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Ann Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Willow Lane</span>, +<span class="smcap">St. Giles</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Norwich</span> (<span +class="smcap">Inglaterra</span>)</p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Madrid</span>, +<i>August</i> 5, 1838.</p> +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My dear Mother</span>,—I +merely write this to inform you that I am back to Madrid from my +expedition. I have been very successful and have sold a +great many Testaments. Indeed all the villages and towns +within thirty miles have been supplied. In Madrid itself I +can do nothing as I am closely watched by order of the government +and not permitted to sell, so that all I do is by riding out to +places where they cannot follow me. I do not blame them, +for they have much to complain of, though nothing of me, but if +the Society will countenance such men as they have lately done in +the South of Spain they must expect to reap the +consequences. It is very probable that I may come to +England in a little time, and then you will see me; but do not +talk any more about yourself being “no more seen,” +for it only serves to dishearten me, and God knows I have enough +to make me melancholy already. I am in a great hurry and +cannot write any more at present.—I remain, dear mother, +yours affectionately,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 122</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. Ann Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">(No date.)</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mama</span>,—As I am afraid +that you may not have received my last letter in consequence of +several couriers having been stopped, I write to inform you that +I am quite well.</p> +<p>I have been in some difficulties. I was selling so many +Testaments that the priests became alarmed, and prevailed on the +government to put a stop to my selling any more; they were +likewise talking of prosecuting me as a witch, but they have +thought better of it. I hear it is very cold in England, +pray take care of yourself, I shall send you more in a few +weeks.—God bless you, my dear mama,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was in the middle of his third and last visit to Spain that +Borrow wrote this next letter to his mother which gives the first +suggestion of the romantic and happy termination of his final +visit to the Peninsula:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Ann Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Seville</span>, +<span class="smcap">Spain</span>, <i>April</i> 27, 1839.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mother</span>,—I should have +written to you before I left Madrid, but I had a long and +dangerous journey to make, and I wished to get it over before +saying anything to you. I am now safely arrived, by the +blessing of God, in Seville, which, in my opinion, is the most +delightful town in the world. If it were not a strange +place with a strange language I know you would like to live in +it, but it is rather too late in the day for you to learn Spanish +and accommodate yourself to Spanish ways. Before I left +Madrid I accomplished a great deal, having sold upwards of one +thousand Testaments and nearly five hundred Bibles, so that at +present very few remain; indeed, not a single Bible, and I was +obliged to send away hundreds of people who wanted to purchase, +but whom I could not supply. All this has been done without +the slightest noise or disturbance or anything that could give +cause of displeasure to the government, so that I am now on very +good terms with the authorities, though they are perfectly aware +of what I am about. Should the Society think proper to be +guided by the experience which I have acquired, and my knowledge +of the country and the people, they might if they choosed sell at +least twelve thousand Bibles and Testaments yearly in Spain, but +let them adopt or let any other people adopt any other principle +than that on which I act and everything will miscarry. All +the difficulties, as I told my friends the time I was in England, +which I have had to encounter were owing to the faults and +imprudencies of other people, and, I may say, still <a +name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>are +owing. Two Methodist schoolmasters have lately settled at +Cadiz, and some little time ago took it into their heads to speak +and preach, as I am informed, against the Virgin Mary; +information was instantly sent to Madrid, and the blame, or part +of it, was as usual laid to me; however, I found means to clear +myself, for I have powerful friends in Madrid, who are well +acquainted with my views, and who interested themselves for me, +otherwise I should have been sent out of the country, as I +believe the two others have been or will be. I have said +nothing on this point in my letters home, as people would perhaps +say that I was lukewarm, whereas, on the contrary, I think of +nothing but the means best adapted to promote the cause; but I am +not one of those disposed to run a ship on a rock when only a +little skill is necessary to keep her in the open sea.</p> +<p>I hope Mrs. Clarke will write shortly; tell her if she wishes +for a retreat I have found one here for her and Henrietta. +I have my eye on a beautiful one at fifteen pence a day. I +call it a small house, though it is a paradise in its way, having +a stable, courtyard, fountain, and twenty rooms. She has +only to write to my address at Madrid and I shall receive the +letter without fail. Henrietta had better bring with her a +Spanish grammar and pocket dictionary, as not a word of English +is spoken here. The house-dog—perhaps a real English +bulldog would be better—likewise had better come, as it may +be useful. God bless you therefore for the present, my +dearest mother.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow had need of friends more tolerant of his idiosyncrasies +than the “powerful friends” he describes to his +mother, for the worthy secretary of the Bible Society was still +in a critical mood:</p> +<blockquote><p>You narrate your perilous journey to Seville, and +say at the beginning of the description, “my usual +wonderful good fortune accompanying us.” This is a +mood of speaking to which we are not accustomed—it savours, +some of our friends would say, a little of the profane.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I find among my papers an interesting letter to Mrs. Clarke of +this period:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Clarke</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Seville</span>, +10 <i>January</i>, 1839.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,—As I left +England very suddenly and had many preparations to make at +exceedingly short notice, I was unable to perform my wish, and I +believe my promise, of writing <a name="page124"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 124</span>to you before my departure. I +took shipping at Falmouth and arrived at Cadiz without any +circumstance worthy of remark occurring. I am now, and have +been for the last week, in Seville, the principal town of +Andalusia, one of the most beautiful provinces in Spain. I +proceed to Madrid within a few days, but it is my intention to +return as soon as possible to these parts, and commence +operations here, where up to the present moment nothing has been +done towards propagating the word of God. Indeed my sole +motive for visiting Madrid, and subjecting myself to a fatiguing +journey through a country which I have already twice traversed, +is to furnish myself with a sufficient stock of Testaments for +distribution in the principal villages of Andalusia, as it is my +intention to address myself chiefly to the peasantry, whom +hitherto I have invariably found far more docile to instruction, +and eager to acquire knowledge, than the brethren of the large +towns. I intend, however, to make Seville my headquarters, +and a depot for the books intended for other places. +Nothing can be more delightful than the situation of this place, +which stands on the eastern bank of the Guadalquivir, the largest +river in Spain, with the exception of the Ebro; smiling meadows, +orange-groves and gardens encompass it on every side; while far +away towards the south east are descried the blue ridges and +misty pinnacles of the noble chain of mountains called the +Sierrania de Ronda. The streets are narrow and crooked like +those of all the old Spanish and Moorish towns. Indeed in +many of them, whilst standing in the middle, you can touch both +sides with your hands extended. Yet the narrowness of the +streets is by no means an inconvenience in this climate, +especially in the summer when the sun burns with great heat and +fury, but on the contrary is a very great comfort, as the hot +beams are excluded, and the houses by this means kept seasonably +cool. Nothing pleases me more than the manner in which the +houses of Seville are built. They are, for the most part, +of two stories, which surround a quadrangular court, of large or +small dimensions, according to the size of the edifice—the +upper story being furnished with a gallery overhanging the court, +and offering an agreeable place for walking to those not disposed +to go abroad. In most of the courts is a stone fountain, +continually streaming with cool and delicious water, and not +unfrequently at the angles orange trees are planted, which +perfume the air with their fruit and blossoms. There are +many magnificent edifices in Seville, especially the Cathedral +and Alcazar or castle. The former is indeed a glorious +pile, constructed at various periods, and so large and covering +so much ground that St. Paul’s, magnificent edifice as it +certainly is, would look contemptible, if placed by its +side. Its tower which is called La Giralda is the work of +the Moors, and once formed part of a mosque, and was the place +from which the Imams at morn and eve summoned the children of +Ismael to their devotions with the awful and true cry +“There is but one God”; stultified however by the +sequence “Mahomet is the Prophet <a +name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 125</span>of +God.” The Alcazar is also the work of the Moors, and +was the palace of their kings as long as they lorded on the banks +of the Guadalquivir; it contains halls of grandeur indescribable, +and which are worthy specimens of the perfection to which +architecture was carried in Spain by the Moors who certainly +deserve to be styled Lords of Masonry, and who perhaps were upon +the whole the most extraordinary nation which has appeared upon +the earth since the time of the creation.</p> +<p>I must however proceed no further at present in describing the +remarkable objects of Seville as there are other matters which I +must now touch upon, and which relate immediately to +yourself. Respecting your questions as to what quarter I +would advise you to direct your course, as soon as your affairs +shall have been arranged to your satisfaction, I beg leave to +answer that I do not think that yourself and Miss Hen. could do +better than come out to Seville, for a time, where you would be +far out of the reach of the malignity of your ill-wishers, and +might soon become useful helpers in the cause of God. With +your income you might live here with the greatest respectability, +tenant one of the charming houses, which I have just described, +and enjoy one of the finest climates in the world. +Therefore you had better give this point your very serious +consideration. I do not think that Colchester or Edinburgh +would please you half so much as Seville, where you would find a +few excellent and worthy English families, long established in +Spain, and following with great success the pursuits of +commerce.</p> +<p>Perhaps it would be well to invest part of your money in the +purchase of some vessel trading to the Mediterranean if such +extraordinary good interest, with perfect security, can be +obtained, as you have stated. However, pray act with the +greatest caution and endeavour thoroughly to know your people +before you place confidence in any person. Should Mr. W. +apply to you again, I think you may tell him that you will +reconsider the matter provided he will give you one thousand +pounds for your interest in your charming little estate. I +have no doubt that he would comply.</p> +<p>The best general advice that I can give you for the present is +to make the most of any species of property which you may deem it +advisable to dispose of, and by no precipitate haste run the risk +of incurring a loss. Let no person persuade you, whether +legal adviser or not, to take any step by which you may deem that +your interests will be in the slightest degree compromised, and +be reserved in your communications to all respecting your +ultimate intentions. I shall write to you speedily from +Madrid and then I hope to have the satisfaction of hearing from +you.</p> +<p>Pray let Hen. continue to collect as much money as possible +towards affording spiritual instruction to the Spanish +Gypsies. Pay a visit to dear Mrs. Ritson and communicate to +her my best remembrances and kindest regards and inform her at +the <a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 126</span>same +time that if she please she may subscribe in this good +cause. I am shortly about to publish, on my own account, a +work which I hope will prove of no slight spiritual benefit to +these unhappy people.—I remain, dearest Madam, ever +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +<p>Mrs. Clarke,<br /> + Oulton Cottage,<br /> + Oulton,<br /> + near +Lowestoft,<br /> + + +Suffolk,<br /> + + +England.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>On 29th July, 1839, Borrow was instructed by his Committee to +return to England, but he was already on the way to Tangier, +whence in September he wrote a long and interesting letter to Mr. +Brandram, which was afterwards incorporated in <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>. He had left Mrs. Clarke and her daughter in +Seville, and they joined him at Gibraltar later. We find +him <i>en route</i> for Tangier, staying two days with Mr. John +M. Brackenbury, the British Consul in Cadiz, who found him a most +fascinating man.</p> +<p>His Tangier life is fully described in <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>. Here he picked up a Jewish youth, Hayim Ben +Attar, who returned to Spain as his servant, and afterwards to +England.</p> +<p>Borrow, at the end of September, was back again in Seville, in +his house near the cathedral, in the Plazuela de la Pila Seca, +which, when I visited Seville in the spring of the year 1913, I +found had long been destroyed to make way for new +buildings. Here he received the following letter from Mr. +George Browne of the Bible Society:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mr. Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bible +House</span>, <i>Oct.</i> 7, 1839.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,—Mr. Brandram +and myself being both on the eve of a long journey, I have only +time to inform you that yours of the 2d ult. from Tangier, and +21st from Cadiz came to hand this morning. Before this time +you have doubtless received Mr. Brandram’s letter, +accompanying the resolution of the Comee., of which I apprised +you, but which was delayed a few days, for the purpose of +reconsideration. We are not able to suggest precisely the +course you should take in regard to the books left at Madrid and +elsewhere, and how far it may be absolutely necessary or not for +you to visit that city again before you return. The books +you speak of, as at Seville, may be sent to Gibraltar rather than +to England, as well as any books you <a name="page127"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 127</span>may deem it expedient or find it +necessary to bring out of the country. As soon as your +arrangements are completed we shall look for the pleasure of +seeing you in this country. The haste in which I am +compelled to write allows me to say no more than that my best +wishes attend you, and that I am, with sincere regard, yours +truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Browne</span>.</p> +<p>I thank you for your kind remembrance of Mrs. Browne. +Did I thank you for your letter to her? She feels, I assure +you, very much obliged. Your description of Tangier will be +another interesting “morceau” for her.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Where is Borrow?” asked the Bible Society +meanwhile of the Consuls at Seville and Cadiz, but Borrow had +ceased to care. He hoped to become a successful author with +his <i>Gypsies</i>; he would at any rate secure independence by +marriage, which must have been already mooted. In November +he and Mrs. Clarke were formally betrothed, and would have been +married in Spain, but a Protestant marriage was impossible +there. When preparing to leave Seville he had one of those +fiery quarrels with which his life was to be studded. This +time it was with an official of the city over a passport, and the +official promptly locked him up for thirty hours. Hence the +following letter in response to his complaint. The writer +is Mr., afterwards Sir George, Jerningham, then Secretary of +Legation at Madrid, who, it may be mentioned, came from +Costessey, four miles from Norwich. It is written from the +British Legation, and is dated 23rd December, 1839:</p> +<blockquote><p>I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of +your two letters, the one without date, the second dated the +19<i>th</i> <i>November</i> (which however ought to have been +<i>December</i>), respecting the outrageous conduct pursued +towards you at Seville by the Alcalde of the district in which +you resided. I lost no time in addressing a strong +representation thereon to the Spanish Minister, and I have to +inform you that he has acquainted me with his having written to +Seville for exact information upon the whole subject, and that he +has promised a further answer to my representation as soon as his +inquiries shall have been answered. In the meantime I shall +not fail to follow up your case with proper activity.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow was still in Seville, hard at work upon the +<i>Gypsies</i>, all through the first three months of the year +1840. In April the three friends left Cadiz for +London. A letter of <a name="page128"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 128</span>this period from Mr. Brackenbury, +the British Consul at Cadiz, is made clear by these facts:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">British +Consulate</span>, <span class="smcap">Cadiz</span>, +<i>January</i> 27<i>th</i>, 1840.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I received on +the 19th your very acceptable letter without date, and am +heartily rejoiced to find that you have received satisfaction for +the insult, and that the Alcalde is likely to be punished for his +unjustifiable conduct. If you come to Cadiz your baggage +may be landed and deposited at the gates to be shipped with +yourselves wherever the steamer may go, in which case the +authorities would not examine it, if you bring it into Cadiz it +would be examined at the gates—or, if you were to get it +examined at the Custom House at Seville and there sealed with the +seal of the Customs—it might then be transhipped into the +steamer or into any other vessel without being subjected to any +examination. If you take your horse, the agents of the +steamer ought to be apprized of your intention, that they may be +prepared, which I do not think they generally are, with a +suitable box.</p> +<p>Consuls are not authorised to unite Protestant subjects in the +bonds of Holy Matrimony in popish countries—which seems a +peculiar hardship, because popish priests could not, if they +would—hence in Spain no Protestants can be legally +married. Marriages solemnised abroad according to the law +of that land wheresoever the parties may at the time be +inhabitants are valid—but the law of Spain excludes their +priests from performing these ceremonies where both parties are +Protestants—and where one is a Papist, except a +dispensation be obtained from the Pope. So you must either +go to Gibraltar—or wait till you arrive in England. I +have represented the hardship of such a case more than once or +twice to Government. In my report upon the Consular Act, 6 +<span class="smcap">Geo.</span> IV. cap. 87—eleven years +ago—I suggested that provision should be made to legalise +marriages solemnised by the Consul within the Consulate, and that +such marriages should be registered in the Consular +Office—and that duly certified copies thereof should be +equivalent to certificates of marriages registered in any church +in England. These suggestions not having been acted upon, I +brought the matter under the consideration of Lord John Russell +(I being then in England at the time of his altering the Marriage +Act), and proposed that Consuls abroad should have the power of +magistrates and civil authorities at home for receiving the +declarations of British subjects who might wish to enter into the +marriage state—but they feared lest the introduction of +such a clause, simple and efficacious as it would have been, +might have endangered the fate of the Bill; and so we are as +Protestants deprived of all power of being legally married in +Spain.</p> +<p><a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 129</span>What +sort of a horse is your hack?—What colour? What +age? Would he carry me?—What his action? What +his price? Because if in all these points he would suit me, +perhaps you would give me the refusal of him. You will of +course enquire whether your Arab may be legally exported.</p> +<p>All my family beg to be kindly remembered to you.—I am, +my dear sir, most faithfully yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">J. M. +Brackenbury</span>.</p> +<p>There is a young gentleman here, who is in Spain partly on +account of his health—partly for literary purposes. I +will give him, with your leave, a line of introduction to you +whenever he may go to Seville. He is the Honourable R. +Dundas Murray, brother of Lord Elibank, a Scottish nobleman.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +130</span>CHAPTER XVIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Borrow’s Spanish Circle</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are many interesting +personalities that pass before us in Borrow’s three +separate narratives, as they may be considered, of his Spanish +experiences. We would fain know more concerning the two +excellent secretaries of the Bible Society—Samuel Brandram +and Joseph Jowett. We merely know that the former was +rector of Beckenham and was one of the Society’s +secretaries until his death in 1850; that the latter was rector +of Silk Willoughby in Lincolnshire, and belonged to the same +family as Jowett of Balliol. But there are many quaint +characters in Borrow’s own narrative to whom we are +introduced. There is Maria Diaz, for example, his landlady +in the house in the Calle de Santiago in Madrid, and her husband, +Juan Lopez, also assisted Borrow in his Bible distribution. +Very eloquent are Borrow’s tributes to the pair in the +pages of <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. “Honour to Maria +Diaz, the quiet, dauntless, clever, Castilian female! I +were an ingrate not to speak well of her.” We get a +glimpse of Maria and her husband long years afterwards—a +pensioner in a Spanish almshouse revealing himself as the son of +Borrow’s friends. Eduardo Lopez was only eight years +of age when Borrow was in Madrid, and he really adds nothing to +our knowledge. Then there were those two incorrigible +vagabonds—Antonio Buchini, his Greek servant with an +Italian name, and Benedict Mol, the Swiss of Lucerne, who turns +up in all sorts of improbable circumstances as the seeker of +treasure in the Church of St. James of Compostella—only a +masterly imagination could have made him so interesting. +Concerning these there is nothing to supplement Borrow’s +own story. But we have attractive glimpses of Borrow in the +frequently quoted narrative of Colonel Napier, and this is so +illuminating that I venture to reproduce it at greater length +than previous biographers have done. Edward Elers Napier, +who was born <a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>in 1808, was the son of one Edward Elers of the Royal +Navy. His widow married the famous Admiral Sir Charles +Napier, who adopted her four children by her first husband. +Edward Elers, the younger, or Edward Napier, as he came to be +called, was educated at Sandhurst and entered the army, serving +for some years in India. Later his regiment was ordered to +Gibraltar, and it was thence that he made several sporting +excursions into Spain and Morocco. Later he served in +Egypt, and when, through ill-health, he retired in 1843 on +half-pay, he lived for some years in Portugal. In 1854 he +returned to the army and did good work in the Crimea, becoming a +lieutenant-general in 1864. He died in 1870. He +wrote, in addition to these <i>Excursions</i>, several other +books, including <i>Scenes and Sports in Foreign Lands</i>. +It was during his military career at Gibraltar that he met George +Borrow at Seville, as the following extracts from his book +testify. Borrow’s pretension to have visited the East +is characteristic—and amusing:—</p> +<blockquote><p>1839. <i>Saturday</i> 4<i>th</i>.—Out +early, sketching at the Alcazar. After breakfast it set in +a day of rain, and I was reduced to wander about the galleries +overlooking the “patio.” Nothing so dreary and +out of character as a rainy day in Spain. Whilst occupied +in moralising over the dripping water-spouts, I observed a tall, +gentlemanly-looking man, dressed in a zamarra, leaning over the +balustrades, and apparently engaged in a similar manner with +myself. Community of thoughts and occupation generally +tends to bring people together. From the stranger’s +complexion, which was fair, but with brilliant black eyes, I +concluded he was not a Spaniard; in short, there was something so +remarkable in his appearance that it was difficult to say to what +nation he might belong. He was tall, with a commanding +appearance; yet, though apparently in the flower of manhood, his +hair was so deeply tinged with the winter of either age or sorrow +as to be nearly snow-white. Under these circumstances, I +was rather puzzled as to what language I should address him +in. At last, putting a bold face on the matter, I +approached him with a “Bonjour, monsieur, quel triste +temps!”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” replied he in the purest Parisian +accent; “and it is very unusual weather here at this time +of the year.”</p> +<p>“Does ‘monsieur’ intend to be any time at +Seville?” asked I. He replied in the +affirmative. We were soon on a friendly footing, and from +his varied information I was both amused and instructed. +Still I became more than ever in the dark as to his nationality; +I found he could speak English as fluently as French. I +tried him on the Italian track; again he was perfectly at +home. He had a Greek servant, to whom he gave his orders in +Romaïc. <a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +132</span>He conversed in good Castilian with “mine +host”; exchanged a German salutation with an Austrian +Baron, at the time an inmate of the fonda; and on mentioning to +him my morning visit to Triano, which led to some remarks on the +gypsies, and the probable place from whence they derived their +origin, he expressed his belief that it was from Moultan, and +said that, even to this day, they retained many Moultanee and +Hindoostanee expressions, such as “pánee” +(water), “buree pánee” (the sea), etc. +He was rather startled when I replied “in Hindee,” +but was delighted on finding I was an Indian, and entered freely, +and with depth and acuteness, on the affairs of the East, most of +which part of the world he had visited.</p> +<p>In such varied discourse did the hours pass so swiftly away +that we were not a little surprised when Pépé, the +“mozo” (and I verily believe all Spanish waiters are +called Pépé), announced the hour of dinner; after +which we took a long walk together on the banks of the +river. But, on our return, I was as much as ever in +ignorance as to who might be my new and pleasant +acquaintance.</p> +<p>I took the first opportunity of questioning Antonio Baillie +(Buchini) on the subject, and his answer only tended to increase +my curiosity. He said that nobody knew what nation the +“mysterious Unknown” belonged to, nor what were his +motives for travelling. In his passport he went by the name +of —, and as a British subject, but in consequence of a +suspicion being entertained that he was a Russian spy, the police +kept a sharp look-out over him. Spy or no spy, I found him +a very agreeable companion; and it was agreed that on the +following day we should visit together the ruins of Italica.</p> +<p><i>May</i> 5.—After breakfast, the “Unknown” +and myself, mounting our horses, proceeded on our expedition to +the ruins of Italica. Crossing the river, and proceeding +through the populous suburb of Triano, already mentioned, we went +over the same extensive plain that I had traversed in going to +San Lucar, but keeping a little more to the right a short ride +brought us in sight of the Convent of San Isidrio, surrounded by +tall cypress and waving date-trees. This once +richly-endowed religious establishment is, together with the +small neighbouring village of Santi Ponci, I believe, the +property of the Duke of Medina Coeli, at whose expense the +excavations are now carried on at the latter place, which is the +ancient site of the Roman Italica.</p> +<p>We sat down on a fragment of the walls, and sadly recalling +the splendour of those times of yore, contrasted with the +desolation around us, the “Unknown” began to feel the +vein of poetry creeping through his inward soul, and gave vent to +it by reciting, with great emphasis and effect, and to the +astonishment of the wondering peasant, who must have thought him +“loco,” the following well-known and beautiful +lines:—</p> +<p>“Cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower, grown,<br /> + Matted and massed together, hillocks heap’d<br +/> +<a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>On what +were chambers, arch crush’d, column strown<br /> + In fragments, choked up vaults, and frescoes +steep’d<br /> +In subterranean damps, where the owl peep’d,<br /> + Deeming it midnight; Temples, baths, or +halls—<br /> +Pronounce who can: for all that Learning reap’d<br /> + From her research hath been, that these are +walls.”</p> +<p>I had been too much taken up with the scene, the verses, and +the strange being who was repeating them with so much feeling, to +notice the approach of one who now formed the fourth person of +our party. This was a slight female figure, beautiful in +the extreme, but whose tattered garments, raven hair (which fell +in matted elf-locks over her naked shoulders), swarthy +complexion, and flashing eyes, proclaimed to be of the wandering +tribe of “gitanos.” From an intuitive sense of +natural politeness she stood with crossed arms, and a slight +smile on her dark and handsome countenance, until my companion +had ceased, and then addressed us in the usual whining tone of +supplication, with “Caballeritos, una limosita! Dios +se lo pagara a ustedes!” (“Gentlemen, a little +charity! God will repay it to you!”) The gypsy +girl was so pretty, and her voice so sweet, that I involuntarily +put my hand in my pocket.</p> +<p>“Stop!” said the “Unknown.” +“Do you remember what I told you about the Eastern origin +of these people? You shall see I am correct. Come +here, my pretty child,” said he in Moultanee, “and +tell me where are the rest of your tribe?”</p> +<p>The girl looked astounded, replied in the same tongue, but in +broken language; when, taking him by the arm, she said, in +Spanish: “Come, caballero; come to one who will be able to +answer you;” and she led the way down amongst the ruins +towards one of the dens formerly occupied by the wild beasts, and +disclosed to us a set of beings scarcely less savage. The +sombre walls of this gloomy abode were illumined by a fire, the +smoke from which escaped through a deep fissure in the massy +roof; whilst the flickering flames threw a blood-red glare on the +bronzed features of a group of children, of two men, and a +decrepit old hag; who appeared busily engaged in some culinary +preparations.</p> +<p>On our entrance, the scowling glance of the males of the +party, and a quick motion of the hand towards the folds of the +“faja,” caused in <i>me</i>, at least, anything but a +comfortable sensation; but their hostile intentions, if ever +entertained, were immediately removed by a wave of the hand from +our conductress, who, leading my companion towards the sibyl, +whispered something in her ear. The old crone appeared +incredulous. The “Unknown” uttered one word; +but that word had the effect of magic; she prostrated herself at +his feet, and in an instant, from an object of suspicion he +became one of worship to the whole family, to whom, on taking +leave, he made a handsome present, and departed with their united +blessings, to the astonishment of myself, and what looked very +like terror in our Spanish guide.</p> +<p><a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>I +was, as the phrase goes, dying with curiosity, and, as soon as we +mounted our horses, exclaimed, “Where, in the name of +goodness, did you pick up your acquaintance and the language of +these extraordinary people?” “Some years ago, +in Moultan,” he replied. “And by what means do +you possess such apparent influence over them?” But +the “Unknown” had already said more than he perhaps +wished on the subject. He drily replied that he had more +than once owed his life to gipsies, and had reason to know them +well; but this was said in a tone which precluded all further +queries on my part. The subject was never again broached, +and we returned in silence to the fonda. . . .</p> +<p><i>May</i> 7<i>th</i>.—Pouring with rain all day, during +which I was mostly in the society of the +“Unknown.” This is a most extraordinary +character, and the more I see of him the more I am puzzled. +He appears acquainted with everybody and everything, but +apparently unknown to every one himself. Though his figure +bespeaks youth—and by his own account his age does not +exceed thirty—yet the snows of eighty winters could not +have whitened his locks more completely than they are. But +in his dark and searching eye there is an almost supernatural +penetration and lustre, which, were I inclined to superstition, +might induce me to set down its possessor as a second Melmoth; +and in that character he often appears to me during the troubled +rest I sometimes obtain through the medium of the great soother, +“laudanum.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The next most interesting figure in the Borrow gallery of this +period is Don Luis de Usóz y Rio, who was a good friend to +Borrow during the whole of his sojourn in Spain. It was he +who translated Borrow’s appeal to the Spanish Prime +Minister to be permitted to distribute Scio’s New +Testament. He watched over Borrow with brotherly +solicitude, and wrote him more than one excellent letter, of +which the two following from my Borrow Papers, the last written +at the close of the Spanish period, are the most interesting:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mr. George Borrow</span><br /> +(<i>Translated from the Spanish</i>)</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Piazza di +Spagna</span> 47, <span class="smcap">Rome</span>, 7 +<i>April</i>, 1838.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I received your +letter, and thank you for the same. I know the works under +the name of “Boz,” about which you write, and also +the <i>Memoirs of the Pickwick Club</i>, and although they seemed +to me good, I have failed to appreciate properly their qualities, +because much of the dramatic style and dialogue in the same are +very difficult for those who know English merely from +books. I made here a better acquaintance <a +name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 135</span>than that +of Mezzofanti (who knows nothing), namely, that of Prof. +Michel-Angelo Lanci, already well known on account of his work, +<i>La sacra scrittura illustrata con monumenti fenico-assiri ed +egiziani</i>, etc., etc. (The Scriptures, illustrated with +Phœnician-Assyrian and Egyptian monuments), which I am +reading at present, and find very profound and interesting, and +more particularly very original. He has written and +presented me a book, <i>Esposizione dei versetti del Giobbe +intorno al cavallo</i> (Explanation of verses of Job about a +horse), and in these and other works he proves himself to be a +great philologist and Oriental scholar. I meet him almost +daily, and I assure you that he seems to me to know everything he +treats thoroughly, and not like Gayangos or Calderon, etc., +etc. His philosophic works have created a great stir here, +and they do not please much the friars here; but as here they are +not like the police barbarians there, they do not forbid it, as +they cannot. Lanci is well known in Russia and in Germany, +and when I bring his works there, and you are there and have not +read them, you will read them and judge for yourself.</p> +<p>Wishing you well, and always at your service, I remain, always +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Luis de Usoz y +Rio</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mr. George Borrow</span><br /> +(<i>Translated from the Spanish</i>)</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Naples</span>, +28 <i>August</i>, 1839.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I received your +letter of the 28 July written from Sevilla, and I am waiting for +that which you promise me from Tangier.</p> +<p>I am glad that you liked Sevilla, and I am still more glad of +the successful shipment of the beloved book. In +distributing it, you are rendering the greatest service that +generous foreigners (I mean Englishmen) can render to the real +freedom and enlightenment in Spain, and any Spaniard who is at +heart a gentleman must be grateful for this service to the +Society and to its agent. In my opinion, if Spain had +maintained the customs, character, and opinions that it had three +centuries ago, it ought to have maintained also unity in +religious opinions: but that at present the circumstances have +changed, and the moral character and the advancement of my +unfortunate country would not lose anything in its purification +and progress by (the grant of) religious liberty.</p> +<p>You are saying that I acted very light-mindedly in judging +Mezzofanti without speaking to him. You know that the other +time when I was in Italy I had dealings and spoke with him, and +that I said to you that he had a great facility for speaking +languages, but that otherwise he was no good. Because I +have seen him several times in the Papal chapels with a certain +air <a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 136</span>of +an ass and certain grimaces of a blockhead that cannot happen to +a man of talent. I am told, moreover, that he is a spy, and +that for that reason he was given the hat. I know, +moreover, that he has not written anything at all. For that +reason I do not wish to take the trouble of seeing him.</p> +<p>As regards Lanci, I am not saying anything except that I am +waiting until you have read his work without passion, and that if +my books have arrived at Madrid, you can ask my brother in +Santiago.</p> +<p>You are judging of him and of Pahlin in the way you reproach +me with judging Mezzofanti; I thank you, and I wish for the +dedication Gabricote; and I also wish for your return to Madrid, +so that in going to Toledo you would get a copy of Aristophanes +with the order that will be given to you by my brother, who has +got it.</p> +<p>If for the Gabricote or other work you require my clumsy pen, +write to Florence and send me a rough copy of what is to be done, +in English or in Spanish, and I will supply the finished +work. From Florence I intend to go to London, and I should +be obliged if you would give me letters and instructions that +would be of use to me in literary matters, but you must know that +my want of knowledge of <i>speaking</i> English makes it +necessary that the Englishmen who speak to me should know +Spanish, French, or Italian.</p> +<p>As regards robberies, of which you accuse Southern people, +from the literatures of the North, do you think that the +robberies committed by the Northerners from the Southern +literature would be left behind? Erunt vitia donec +homines.—Always yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Eleutheros</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Yet another acquaintance of these Spanish days was Baron +Taylor—Isidore Justin Séverin Taylor, to give him +his full name—who had a career of wandering achievement, +with Government pay, that must have appealed to Borrow. +Although his father was an Englishman he became a naturalised +Frenchman, and he was for a time in the service of the French +Government as Director of the Théâtre +Français, when he had no little share in the production of +the dramas of Victor Hugo and Dumas. Later he was +instrumental in bringing the Luxor obelisk from Egypt to +Paris. He wrote books upon his travels in Spain, Portugal +and Morocco. He wandered all over Europe in search of art +treasures for the French Government, and may very well have met +Borrow again and again. Borrow tells us that he had met +Taylor in France, in Russia, and in Ireland, before he met him in +Andalusia, collecting pictures for the French Government. +Borrow’s description of their meetings is +inimitable:—</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +137</span>Whenever he descries me, whether in the street or the +desert, the brilliant hall or amongst Bedouin <i>haimas</i>, at +Novogorod or Stambul, he flings up his arms and exclaims, +“<i>O ciel</i>! I have again the felicity of seeing +my cherished and most respectable Borrow.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The last and most distinguished of Borrow’s colleagues +while in Spain was George Villiers, fourth Earl of Clarendon, +whom we judge to have been in private life one of the most +lovable men of his epoch. George Villiers was born in +London in 1800, and was the grandson of the first Earl, Thomas +Villiers, who received his title when holding office in Lord +North’s administration, but is best known from his +association in diplomacy with Frederick the Great. His +grandson was born, as it were, into diplomacy, and at twenty +years of age was an <i>attaché</i> to the British Embassy +in St. Petersburg. Later he was associated with Sir John +Bowring in negotiating a commercial treaty with France. In +August, 1833, he was sent as British Minister—“envoy +extraordinary” he was called—to Madrid, and he had +been two years in that seething-pot of Spanish affairs, with +Christinos and Carlists at one another’s throats, when +Borrow arrived in the Peninsula. His influence was the +greater with a succession of Spanish Prime Ministers in that in +1838 he had been largely instrumental in negotiating the +quadruple alliance between England, France, Spain, and +Portugal. In March, 1839—exactly a year before Borrow +took his departure—he resigned his position at Madrid, +having then for some months exchanged the title of Sir George +Villiers for that of Earl of Clarendon through the death of his +uncle; Borrow thereafter having to launch his various complaints +and grievances at his successor, Mr.—afterwards Sir +George—Jerningham, who, it has been noted, had his home in +Norfolk, at Costessey, four miles from Norwich. Villiers +returned to England with a great reputation, although his Spanish +policy was attacked in the House of Lords. In that same +year, 1839, he joined Lord Melbourne’s administration as +Lord Privy Seal, O’Connell at the time declaring that he +ought to be made Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, so sympathetic was +he towards concession and conciliation in that then feverishly +excited country. This office actually came to him in 1847, +and he was Lord-Lieutenant through that dark period of +Ireland’s history, <a name="page138"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 138</span>including the Famine, the Young +Ireland rebellion, and the Smith O’Brien rising. He +pleased no one in Ireland. No English statesman could ever +have done so under such ideals of government as England would +have tolerated then, and for long years afterwards. The +Whigs defended him, the Tories abused him, in their respective +organs. He left Ireland in 1852 and was more than once +mentioned as possible Prime Minister in the ensuing years. +He was Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in Lord +Aberdeen’s administration during the Crimean War, and he +held the same office under Lord Palmerston, again under Lord John +Russell in 1865, and under Mr. Gladstone in 1868. He might +easily have become Prime Minister. Greville in his +<i>Diary</i> writes of Prince Albert’s desire that he +should succeed Lord John Russell, but Clarendon said that no +power on earth would make him take that position. He said +he could not speak, and had not had parliamentary experience +enough. He died in 1870, leaving a reputation as a skilful +diplomatist and a disinterested politician, if not that of a +great statesman. He had twice refused the +Governor-Generalship of India, and three times a marquisate.</p> +<p>Sir George Villiers seems to have been very courteous to +Borrow during the whole of the time they were together in +Spain. It would have been easy for him to have been quite +otherwise. Borrow’s Bible mission synchronised with a +very delicate diplomatic mission of his own, and in a measure +clashed with it. The government of Spain was at the time +fighting the ultra-clericals. Physical and moral strife +were rife in the land. Neither Royalists nor Carlists could +be expected to sympathise with Borrow’s schemes, which were +fundamentally to attack their Church. But Villiers was at +all times friendly, and, as far as he could be, helpful. +Borrow seems to have had ready access to him, and he answered his +many letters. He gave Borrow an opportunity of an interview +with the formidable Prime Minister Mendizábal, and he +interviewed another minister and persuaded him to permit Borrow +to print and circulate his Bibles. He intervened +successfully to release Borrow from his Madrid prison. But +Villiers could not have had any sympathy with Borrow other than +as a British subject to be protected on the Roman citizen +principle. We do not suppose that when <i>The Bible in +Spain</i> appeared he was one <a name="page139"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 139</span>of those who were captivated by its +extraordinary qualities. When Borrow crossed his path in +later life he received no special consideration, such as would be +given very promptly in our day by a Cabinet minister to a man of +letters of like distinction. We find him on one occasion +writing to the ex-minister, now Lord Clarendon, asking his help +for a consulship. Clarendon replied kindly enough, but +sheltered himself behind the statement that the Prime Minister +was overwhelmed with applications for patronage. Yet +Clarendon, who held many high offices in the following years, +might have helped if he had cared to do so. Some years +later—in 1847—there was further correspondence when +Borrow desired to become a Magistrate of Suffolk. Here +again Clarendon wrote three courteous letters, and appears to +have done his best in an unenthusiastic way. But nothing +came of it all.</p> +<h2><a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +140</span>CHAPTER XIX<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mary Borrow</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the many Borrow manuscripts +in my possession I find a page of unusual pathos. It is the +inscription that Borrow wrote for his wife’s tomb, and it +is in the tremulous handwriting of a man weighed down by the one +incomparable tragedy of life’s pilgrimage:</p> +<blockquote><p><i>Sacred to the Memory of Mary Borrow</i>,<br /> +<i>the Beloved and Affectionate Wife of</i><br /> +<i>George Borrow</i>, <i>Esquire</i>, <i>who departed</i><br /> +<i>this Life on the</i> 30<i>th</i> <i>Jan.</i> 1869.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The death of his wife saddened Borrow, and assisted to +transform him into the unamiable creature of Norfolk +tradition. But it is well to bear in mind, when we are +considering Borrow on his domestic and personal side, that he was +unquestionably a good and devoted husband throughout his married +life of twenty-nine years. It was in the year 1832 that +Borrow and his wife first met. He was twenty-nine; she was +a widow of thirty-eight. She was undeniably very +intelligent, and was keenly sympathetic to the young vagabond of +wonderful adventures on the highways of England, now so ambitious +for future adventure in distant lands. Her maiden name was +Mary Skepper. She was one of the two children of Edmund +Skepper and his wife Anne, who lived at Oulton Hall in Suffolk, +whither they had removed from Beccles in 1805. Mary’s +brother inherited the Oulton Hall estate of three hundred acres, +and she had a mortgage, the interest of which yielded £450 +per annum. In July, 1817, Mary married, at Oulton Church, +Henry Clarke, a lieutenant in the Navy, who died eight months +later of consumption. Two months after his death their +child Henrietta Mary, the “Hen.” who was +Borrow’s life companion, was born. There is a letter +among my Borrow <a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +141</span>Papers addressed to the widow by her husband’s +father at this time. It is dated 17th June, 1818, and runs +as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>I read your very kind, affectionate, and +respectful Letter of the 15th Inst, with Feelings of Satisfaction +and thankfulness—thankful that God has mercifully given you +so pleasing a Pledge of the Love of my late dear, but lamented +son, and I most sincerely hope and trust that dear little +Henrietta will live to be the Joy and Consolation of your Life: +and satisfyed I am that you are what I always esteemed you to be, +<i>one</i> of the best of Women; God grant! that you may be, as I +am sure you deserve to be <i>one</i> of the happiest—His +Ways of Providence are past finding out; to you—they seem +indeed to have been truly afflictive: but we cannot possibly say +that they are really so; we cannot doubt His Wisdom nor ought we +to distrust His Goodness, let us avow, then, where we have not +the Power of fathoming—viz. the dispensations of God; in +His good time He will show us, perhaps, that every painful Event +which has happened was abundantly for the best—I am truly +glad to hear that you and the sweet Babe, my little grand +Daughter, are doing so well, and I hope I shall have the pleasure +shortly of seeing you either at Oulton or Sisland. I am +sorry to add that neither Poor L. nor myself are +well.—Louisa and my Family join me in kind love to you, and +in best regards to your worthy Father, Mother, and Brother.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mary Skepper was certainly a bright, intelligent girl, as I +gather from a manuscript poem before me written to a friend on +the eve of leaving school. As a widow, living at first with +her parents at Oulton Hall, and later with her little daughter in +the neighbouring cottage, she would seem to have busied herself +with all kinds of philanthropies, and she was clearly in sympathy +with the religious enthusiasms of certain neighbouring families +of Evangelical persuasion, particularly the Gurneys and the +Cunninghams. The Rev. Francis Cunningham was rector of +Pakefield, near Lowestoft from 1814 to 1830. He married +Richenda, sister of the distinguished Joseph John Gurney and of +Elizabeth Fry, in 1816. In 1830 he became vicar of St. +Margaret’s, Lowestoft. His brother, John William +Cunningham, was vicar of Harrow, and married a Verney of the +famous Buckinghamshire family. This John William Cunningham +was a great light of the Evangelical Churches of his time, and +was for many years editor of <i>The Christian Observer</i>. +His daughter Mary Richenda married Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, +the well-known judge, and the brother of Sir Leslie +Stephen. <a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +142</span>But to return to Francis Cunningham, whose acquaintance +with Borrow was brought about through Mrs. Clarke. +Cunningham was a great supporter of the British and Foreign Bible +Society, and was the founder of the Paris branch. It was +speedily revealed to him that Borrow’s linguistic abilities +could be utilised by the Society, and he secured the co-operation +of his brother-in-law, Joseph John Gurney, in an effort to find +Borrow work in connection with the Society.</p> +<p>We do not meet Mary Clarke again until 1834, when we find a +letter from her to Borrow addressed to St. Petersburg, in which +she notifies to him that he has been “mentioned at many of +the Bible Meetings this year,” adding that “dear Mr. +Cunningham” had spoken so nicely of him at an Oulton +gathering. “As I am not afraid of making you +proud,” she continues, “I will tell you one of his +remarks. He mentioned you as one of the most extraordinary +and interesting individuals of the present day.” +Henceforth clearly Mary Clarke corresponded regularly with +Borrow, and one or two extracts from her letters are given by Dr. +Knapp. Joseph Jowett of the Bible Society forwarded +Borrow’s letters from Russia to Cunningham, who handed them +to Mrs. Clarke and her parents. Borrow had proposed to +continue his mission by leaving Russia for China, but this Mary +Clarke opposed:</p> +<blockquote><p>I must tell you that your letter chilled me when I +read your intention of going as a Missionary or Agent, with the +Manchu Scriptures in your hand, to the Tartars, that land of +incalculable dangers.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In 1835 Borrow was back in England at Norwich with his mother, +and on a visit to Mary Clarke and the Skeppers at Oulton. +Mrs. Skepper died just before his arrival in England—that +is, in September, 1835—while her husband died in February, +1836. Her only brother died in the following year.</p> +<p>Thus we see Mary Clarke, aged forty-three, left to fight the +world with her daughter, aged nineteen, and not only to fight the +world but her own family, particularly her brother’s widow, +owing to certain ambiguities in her father’s will. It +was these legal quarrels that led Mary Clarke and her daughter to +set sail for Spain, where Mary <a name="page143"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 143</span>had had the indefatigable and +sympathetic correspondent during the previous year of +trouble. Borrow and Mary Clarke met, as we have seen, at +Seville and there, at a later period, they became +“engaged.” Mrs. Clarke and her daughter +Henrietta sailed for Spain in the <i>Royal Tar</i>, leaving +London for Cadiz in June, 1839. Much keen correspondence +between Borrow and Mrs. Clarke had passed before the final +decision to visit Spain. His mother was one of the few +people who knew of Mrs. Clarke’s journey to Seville, and +must have understood, as mothers do, what was pending, although +her son did not. When the engagement is announced to +her—in November, 1839—she writes to Mary Clarke a +kindly, affectionate letter:</p> +<blockquote><p>I shall now resign him to your care, and may you +love and cherish him as much as I have done. I hope and +trust that each will try to make the other happy.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There is no reason whatever to accept the suggestion that has +been made that Borrow married for money. And this because +he had said in one of his letters, “It is better to suffer +the halter than the yoke,” the kind of thing that a man +might easily say on the eve of making a proposal which he was not +sure would be accepted. Nor can a casual remark of +Borrow’s—“marriage is by far the best way of +getting possession of an estate”—be counted as +conclusive. That Borrow was all his life devoted to his +wife I think is proved by his many letters to her that are given +in this volume. Borrow’s further tribute to his wife +and stepdaughter in <i>Wild Wales</i> is well known:</p> +<blockquote><p>Of my wife I will merely say that she is a perfect +paragon of wives, can make puddings and sweets and treacle +posset, and is the best woman of business in Eastern +Anglia. Of my stepdaughter—for such she is, though I +generally call her daughter, and with good reason, seeing that +she has always shown herself a daughter to me—that she has +all kinds of good qualities, and several accomplishments, knowing +something of conchology, more of botany, drawing capitally in the +Dutch style, and playing remarkably well on the guitar—not +the trumpery German thing so called, but the real Spanish +guitar.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow belonged to the type of men who would never marry did +not some woman mercifully take them in hand. Mrs. Clarke, +when she set out for Spain, had doubtless <a +name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 144</span>determined +to marry Borrow. It is clear that he had no idea of +marrying her. Yet he was certainly “engaged,” +as we learn from a letter to Mr. Brackenbury, when he wrote a +letter from Seville to Mr. Brandram, dated 18th March, in which +he said: “I wish very much to spend the remaining years of +my life in the northern parts of China, as I think I have a call +to those regions. . . . I hope yet to die in the cause of +my Redeemer.” Surely never did man take so curious a +view of the responsibilities of marriage. Possibly here +also Borrow was adapting himself to the language of the Bible +Society. He must have known that his proposal would be +declined—as it was.</p> +<p>Very soon after the engagement Borrow experienced his third +term of imprisonment in Spain, this time, however, only for +thirty hours, and all because he had asked the Alcalde, or mayor +of the district in which he lived, for his passport, and had +quarrelled with his worship over the matter. Borrow gave up +the months of this winter of 1839 rather to writing his first +important book, <i>The Gypsies of Spain</i>, than to the concerns +of the Bible Society, which fidgeted exceedingly, no doubt +imaging heavy bills for expenses, with no corresponding reports +of the usual character to be read out at meetings. Finally +Borrow, with Mrs. Clarke and her daughter, sailed from Cadiz on +the 3rd April, 1840, as we have already related. He had +with him his Jewish servant, Hayim Ben Attar, and his Arabian +horse, Sidi Habismilk, both of which were to astonish the natives +of the Suffolk broads. The party reached London on 16th +April and stayed at the Spread Eagle Inn, Gracechurch +Street. The marriage took place at St. Peter’s +Church, Cornhill, on 23rd April, 1840.</p> +<p>There are only two letters from Mrs. Borrow to her husband +extant. They were written in the Hereford Square days +between the years 1860 and 1869—the last year of Mrs. +Borrow’s life. The pair had been married some +twenty-five years at least, and it is made clear by those letters +alone that at the end of this period they were still a most +happily assorted couple. Mrs. Borrow must have gone to +Brighton for her health on two separate occasions, each time +accompanied by her daughter. Borrow, who had enjoyed many a +pleasant ramble on his own account, as we shall see—rambles +which extended as far away as Constantinople—is <a +name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +145</span>“keeping house” in Hereford Square, +Brompton, the while. It will be noted that Mrs. Borrow +signed herself “Carreta,” the pet name that her +husband always gave her. It has been suggested that as +“carreta” means a Spanish dray-cart, +“carita,” “my dear,” was probably +meant. But, careless as was the famous word-master over the +spelling of words in the tongues that he never really mastered +scientifically, he could scarcely have made so obvious a blunder +as this, and there must have been some particular experience in +the lives of husband and wife that led to the playful +designation. <a name="citation145a"></a><a href="#footnote145a" +class="citation">[145a]</a> Here are the two letters:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Grenville +Place</span>, <span class="smcap">Brighton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Sussex</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Husband</span>,—I am +thankful to say that I arrived here quite safe on Saturday, and +on Wednesday I hope to see you at home. We may not be home +before the evening about six o’clock, sooner or later, so +do not be anxious, as we shall be careful. We took tea with +the Edwards at six o’clock the day I came; they are a very +kind, nice family. You must take a walk when we come home, +but remember now we have a young servant, and do not leave the +house for very long together. The air here is very fresh, +and much cooler than in London, and I hope after the five +days’ change I shall be benefited, but I wish to come home +on Wednesday. See to all the doors and windows of a night, +and let Jane keep up the chain, and lock the back door by the hop +plant before it gets dark. Our love to Lady +Soame.—And with our best love to you, believe me, your +own</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Carreta</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><i>Sunday morning</i>, 10 +<i>o’clock</i>.</p> +<p>If I do not hear from you I shall conclude all is well, and +you may do the same with regard to us. Have the tea ready a +little before six on Wednesday. Henrietta is wonderfully +improved by the change, and sends dear and best love to you.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span><span +class="smcap">To George Borrow</span>, <span +class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">33 <span class="smcap">Grenville +Place</span>, <span class="smcap">Brighton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Sussex</span>.<br /> +<i>Thursday morning</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Husband</span>,—As it is +raining again this morning I write a few lines to you. I +cannot think that we have quite so much rain as you have at +Brompton, for I was out <i>twice</i> yesterday an hour in the +morning in a Bath chair, and a little walk in the evening on the +Marine Parade, and I have been out little or much every day, and +hope I feel a little better. Our dear Henrietta likewise +says that she feels the better for the air and change. As +we are here I think we had better remain till Tuesday next, when +the fortnight will be up, but I fear you feel very lonely. +I hope you get out when you can, and that you take care of your +health. I hope Ellen continues to attend to yr. comfort, +and that when she gives orders to Mrs. Harvey or the Butcher that +she shews you what they send. I shall want the stair +carpets down, and the drawing-room <i>nice</i>—blinds and +shutters closed to prevent the sun, also bed-rooms prepared, with +well <i>aired sheets</i> and counterpane <i>by next +Tuesday</i>. I suppose we shall get to Hereford Square +perhaps about five o’clock, but I shall write again. +You had better dine at yr. usual time, and as we shall get a +dinner here we shall want only tea.</p> +<p>Henrietta’s kindest dear love and mine, remaining yr. +true and affectionate wife.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Carreta</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>No reader can peruse the following pages without recognising +the true affection for his wife that is transparent in +Borrow’s letters to her. Arthur Dalrymple’s +remark that he had frequently seen Borrow and his wife +travelling—</p> +<blockquote><p>He stalking along with a huge cloak wrapped round +him in all weathers, and she trudging behind him like an Indian +squaw, with a carpet bag, or bundle, or small portmanteau in her +arms, and endeavouring under difficulty to keep up with his +enormous strides—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>is clearly a travesty. “Mrs. Borrow was devoted to +her husband, and looked after business matters; and he always +treated her with exceeding kindness,” is the verdict of +Miss Elizabeth Jay, who was frequently privileged to visit the +husband and wife at Oulton.</p> +<h2><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +147</span>CHAPTER XX<br /> +“<span class="smcap">The Children of the Open +Air</span>”</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Behold</span> George Borrow, then, in a +comfortable home on the banks of Oulton Broad—a family +man. His mother—sensible woman—declines her +son’s invitation to live with the newly-married pair. +She remains in the cottage at Norwich where her husband +died. The Borrows were married in April, 1840, by May they +had settled at Oulton. It was a pleasantly secluded estate, +and Borrow’s wife had £450 a year. He had, a +month before his marriage, written to Mr. Brandram to say that he +had a work nearly ready for publication, and “two others in +a state of forwardness.” The title of the first of +these books he enclosed in his letter. It was <i>The +Zincali</i>: <i>Or an Account of the Gypsies of Spain</i>. +Mr. Samuel Smiles, in his history of the House of +Murray—<i>A Publisher and his Friends</i>—thus +relates the circumstances of its publication:—</p> +<blockquote><p>In November 1840 a tall, athletic gentleman in +black called upon Mr. Murray offering a MS. for perusal and +publication. . . . Mr. Murray could not fail to be taken at +first sight with this extraordinary man. He had a splendid +physique, standing six feet two in his stockings, and he had +brains as well as muscles, as his works sufficiently show. +The book now submitted was of a very uncommon character, and +neither the author nor the publisher were very sanguine about its +success. Mr. Murray agreed, after perusal, to print and +publish 750 copies of <i>The Gypsies in Spain</i>, and divide the +profits with the author.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was at the suggestion of Richard Ford, then the greatest +living English authority on Spain, that Mr. Murray published the +book. It did not really commence to sell until <i>The Bible +in Spain</i> came a year or so later to bring the author +reputation. From November, 1840, to June, 1841, only three +hundred copies had been sold in spite of friendly reviews in some +half-dozen journals, including <i>The Athenæum</i> and +<i>The Literary Gazette</i>. The first edition, it may be +mentioned, contained on its title-page a description of the +author as <a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +148</span>“late agent of the British and Foreign Bible +Society in Spain.” There is very marked compression +in the edition now in circulation, and a perusal of the first +edition reveals many interesting features that deserve to be +restored for the benefit of the curious. But nothing can +make <i>The Zincali</i> a great piece of literature. It was +summarised by the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> at the time as “a +hotch-potch of the jockey, tramper, philologist, and +missionary.” That description, which was not intended +to be as flattering as it sounds to-day, appears more to apply to +<i>The Bible in Spain</i>. But <i>The Zincali</i> is too +confused, too ill-arranged a book to rank with Borrow’s +four great works. There are passages in it, indeed, so +eloquent, so romantic, that no lover of Borrow’s writings +can afford to neglect them. But this was not the book that +gypsy-loving Borrow, with the temperament of a Romany, should +have written, or could have written had he not been obsessed by +the “science” of his subject. His real work in +gypsydom was to appear later in <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>The Romany +Rye</i>. For Borrow was not a man of science—a +philologist, a folk-lorist of the first order.</p> +<p>No one, indeed, who had read only <i>The Zincali</i> among +Borrow’s works could see in it any suspicion of the writer +who was for all time to throw a glamour over the gypsy, to make +the “children of the open air” a veritable cult, to +earn for him the title of “the walking lord of gypsy +lore,” and to lay the foundations of an admirable +succession of books both in fact and fiction—but not one as +great as his own. It is clear that the city of Seville, +with sarcastic letters from Bible Society secretaries on one +side, and some manner of love romance on the other, was not so +good a place for an author to produce a real book as Oulton was +to become. Richard Ford’s judgment was sound when he +said with quite wonderful prescience:</p> +<blockquote><p>How I wish you had given us more about yourself, +instead of the extracts from those blunder-headed old Spaniards, +who knew nothing about gypsies! I shall give you the +<i>rap</i>, on that, and a hint to publish your whole adventures +for the last twenty years. <a name="citation148"></a><a +href="#footnote148" class="citation">[148]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Henceforth Borrow was to write about himself and to <a +name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>become a +great author in consequence. For in writing about himself +as in <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>The Romany Rye</i> he was to write +exactly as he felt about the gypsies, and to throw over them the +glamour of his own point of view, the view of a man who loved the +broad highway and those who sojourned upon it. In <i>The +Gypsies of Spain</i> we have a conventional estimate of the +gypsies. “There can be no doubt that they are human +beings and have immortal souls,” he says, even as if he +were writing a letter to the Bible Society. All his +anecdotes about the gypsies are unfavourable to them, suggestive +only of them as knaves and cheats. From these pictures it +is a far cry to the creation of Jasper Petulengro and Isopel +Berners. The most noteworthy figure in <i>The Zincali</i> +is the gypsy soldier of Valdepenas, an unholy rascal. +“To lie, to steal, to shed human blood”—these +are the most marked characteristics with which Borrow endows the +gypsies of Spain. “Abject and vile as they have ever +been, the gitános have nevertheless found admirers in +Spain,” says the author who came to be popularly recognised +as the most enthusiastic admirer of the gypsies in Spain and +elsewhere. Read to-day by the lover of Borrow’s other +books <i>The Zincali</i> will be pronounced a readable collection +of anecdotes, interspersed with much dull matter, with here and +there a piece of admirable writing. But the book would +scarcely have lived had it not been followed by four works of so +fine an individuality. Well might Ford ask Borrow for more +about himself and less of the extracts from “blunder-headed +old Spaniards.” When Borrow came to write about +himself he revealed his real kindness for the gypsy folk. +He gave us Jasper Petulengro and the incomparable description of +“the wind on the heath.” He kindled the +imagination of men, proclaimed the joys of vagabondage in a +manner that thrilled many hearts. He had some predecessors +and many successors, but “none could then, or can ever +again,” says the biographer of a later Rye, “see or +hear of Romanies without thinking of Borrow.” In her +biography of one of these successors in gypsy lore, Charles +Godfrey Leland, Mrs. Pennell discusses the probability that +Borrow and Leland met in the British Museum. That is +admitted in a letter from Leland to Borrow in my +possession. To this letter Borrow made no reply. It +was wrong of him. But he was then—in 1873—a +prematurely <a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +150</span>old man, worn out and saddened by neglect and a sense +of literary failure. For this and for the other vagaries of +those latter years Borrow will not be judged harshly by those who +read his story here. Nothing could be more courteous than +Borrow’s one letter to Leland, written in the failing +handwriting—once so excellent—of the last sad decade +of his life:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">22 <span +class="smcap">Hereford Square</span>, <span +class="smcap">Brompton</span>, <i>Nov.</i> 2, 1871.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I have received your +letter and am gratified by the desire you express to make my +acquaintance. Whenever you please to come I shall be happy +to see you.—Yours truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The meeting did not, through Leland’s absence from +London, then take place. Two years later it was another +story. The failing powers were more noteworthy. +Borrow was by this time dead to the world, as the documents +before me abundantly testify. It is not, therefore, +necessary to assume, as Leland’s friends have done, that +Borrow never replied because he was on the eve of publishing a +book of his own about the gypsies.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Langham +Hotel</span>, <span class="smcap">Portland Place</span>, +<i>March</i> 31<i>st</i>, 1873.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I sincerely trust +that the limited extent of our acquaintanceship will not cause +this note to seem to you too presuming. <i>Breviter</i>, I +have thrown the results of my observations among English gypsies +into a very unpretending little volume consisting almost entirely +of facts gathered from the Romany, without any theory. As I +owe all my interest in the subject to your writings, and as I am +sincerely grateful to you for the impulse which they gave me, I +should like very much to dedicate my book to you. Of course +if your kindness permits I shall submit the proofs to you, that +you may judge whether the work deserves the honour. I +should have sent you the MS., but not long after our meeting at +the British Museum I left for Egypt, whence I have very recently +returned, to find my publisher clamorous for the promised +copy.</p> +<p>It is <i>not</i>—God knows—a mean and selfish +desire to help my book by giving it the authority of your name, +which induces this request. But I am earnestly desirous for +my conscience’ sake to publish nothing in the Romany which +shall not be true and sensible, even as all that you have written +is true and sensible. Therefore, <i>should</i> you take the +pains to glance over my proof, I <a name="page151"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 151</span>should be grateful if you would +signify to me any differences of opinion should there be ground +for any. Dr. A. F. Pott in his <i>Zigeuner</i> (vol. ii. p. +224), intimates very decidedly that you took the word +<i>shastr</i> (Exhastra de Moyses) from Sanskrit and put it into +Romany; declaring that it would be very important if +<i>shaster</i> were Romany. I mention in my book that +English gypsies call the New Testament (also any MS.) a +<i>shaster</i>, and that a betting-book on a racecourse is called +a <i>shaster</i> “because it is written.” I do +not pretend in my book to such deep Romany as you have +achieved—all that I claim is to have collected certain +words, facts, phrases, etc., out of the Romany of the +roads—corrupt as it is—as I have found it +to-day. I deal only with the gypsy of the +<i>Decadence</i>. With renewed apology for intrusion should +it seem such, I remain, yours very respectfully,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Charles G. +Leland</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Francis Hindes Groome remarked when reviewing Borrow’s +<i>Word Book</i> in 1874, <a name="citation151"></a><a +href="#footnote151" class="citation">[151]</a> that when <i>The +Gypsies of Spain</i> was published in 1841 “there were not +two educated men in England who possessed the slightest knowledge +of Romany.” In the intervening thirty-three years all +this was changed. There was an army of gypsy scholars or +scholar gypsies of whom Leland was one, Hindes Groome another, +and Professor E. H. Palmer a third, to say nothing of many +scholars and students of Romany in other lands. Not one of +them seemed when Borrow published his <i>Word Book of the +Romany</i> to see that he was the only man of genius among +them. They only saw that he was an inferior philologist to +them all. And so Borrow, who prided himself on things that +he could do indifferently quite as much as upon things that he +could do well, suffered once again, as he was so often doomed to +suffer, for the lack of appreciation which was all in all to him, +and his career went out in a veritable blizzard. He +published nothing after his <i>Romano Lavo-Lil</i> appeared in +1874. He was then indeed a broken and a bitter man, with no +further interest in life. Dedications of books to him +interested him not at all. In any other mood, or a few +years earlier, Leland’s book, <i>The English Gypsies</i>, +would have gladdened his heart. In his preface Leland +expresses “the highest respect for the labours of Mr. +George Borrow in this field,” he quotes Borrow continually +and with sympathy, and renders him honour as a philologist that +has usually been withheld. “To Mr. Borrow is due <a +name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>the +discovery that the word <i>jockey</i> is of gypsy origin and +derived from <i>chuckiri</i>, which means a whip,” and he +credits Borrow with the discovery of the origin of +“tanner” for sixpence; he vindicates him as against +Dr. A. F. Pott—a prince among students of gypsydom—of +being the first to discover that the English gypsies call the +Bible the <i>shaster</i>. But there is a wealth of +scientific detail in Leland’s books that is not to be found +in Borrow’s, as also there is in Francis Hindes +Groome’s works. What had Borrow to do with +science? He could not even give the word +“Rúmani” its accent, and called it +“Romany.” He “quietly +appropriated,” says Groome, “Bright’s Spanish +gypsy words for his own work, mistakes and all, without one word +of recognition. I think one has the ancient impostor +there.” “His knowledge of the strange history +of the gypsies was very elementary, of their manners almost more +so, and of their folk-lore practically <i>nil</i>,” says +Groome elsewhere. Yet Mr. Hindes Groome readily +acknowledges that Borrow is above all writers on the +gypsies. “He communicates a subtle insight into +gypsydom”—that is the very essence of the +matter. Controversy will continue in the future as in the +present as to whether the gypsies are all that Borrow thought +them. Perhaps “corruption has crept in among +them” as it did with the prize-fighters. They have +intermarried with the gorgios, thrown over their ancient customs, +lost all their picturesque qualities, it may be. But Borrow +has preserved in literature for all time, as not one of the +philologists and folk-lore students has done, a remarkable type +of people. But this is not to be found in his first +original work, <i>The Zincali</i>, nor in his last, <i>The Romano +Lavo-Lil</i>. This glamour is to be found in +<i>Lavengro</i> and <i>The Romany Rye</i>, to which books we +shall come in due course. Here we need only refer to the +fact that Borrow had loved the gypsies all his life—from +his boyish meeting with Petulengro until in advancing years the +prototype of that wonderful creation of his imagination—for +this the Petulengro of <i>Lavengro</i> undoubtedly was—came +to visit him at Oulton. Well might Leland call him +“the Nestor of Gypsydom.”</p> +<h2><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +153</span>CHAPTER XXI<br /> +“<span class="smcap">The Bible in Spain</span>”</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> an admirable appreciation of our +author, the one in which he gives the oft-quoted eulogy +concerning him as “the delightful, the bewitching, the +never-sufficiently-to-be-praised George Borrow,” Mr. +Birrell records the solace that may be found by small boys in the +ambiguities of a title-page, or at least might have been found in +it in his youth and in mine. In those days in certain +Puritan circles a very strong line was drawn between what was +known as Sunday reading, and reading that might be permitted on +week-days. The Sunday book must have a religious +flavour. There were magazines with that particular flavour, +every story in them having a pious moral withal. Very +closely watched and scrutinised was the reading of young people +in those days and in those circles. Mr. Birrell, doubtless, +speaks from autobiographical memories when he tells us of a small +boy with whose friends <i>The Bible in Spain</i> passed muster on +the strength of its title-page. For Mr. Birrell is the son +of a venerated Nonconformist minister; and perhaps he, or at +least those who were of his household, had this religious +idiosyncrasy. It may be that the distinction which pervaded +the evangelical circles of Mr. Birrell’s youth as to what +were Sunday books, as distinct from books to be read on +week-days, has disappeared. In any case think of the +advantage of the boy of that generation who was able to handle a +book with so unexceptionable a title as <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>. His elders would succumb at once, particularly +if the boy had the good sense to call their attention to the +sub-title—“The Journeys, Adventures, and +Imprisonments of an Englishman in an Attempt to Circulate the +Scriptures in the Peninsula.” Nothing could be said +by the most devout of seniors against so prepossessing a +title-page. But what of the boy who had thus passed the +censorship? What a revelation of adventure <a +name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>was open to +him. Perhaps he would skip the “preachy” parts +in which Borrow was doubtless sincere, although the sincerity has +so uncertain a ring to-day. Here are five passages, for +example, which do not seem to belong to the book:</p> +<blockquote><p>In whatever part of the world I, a poor wanderer +in the Gospel’s cause, may chance to be</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>very possibly the fate of St. Stephen might overtake me; but +does the man deserve the name of a follower of Christ who would +shrink from danger of any kind in the cause of Him whom he calls +his Master? “He who loses his life for my sake shall +find it,” are words which the Lord Himself uttered. +These words were fraught with consolation to me, as they +doubtless are to every one engaged in propagating the Gospel, in +sincerity of heart, in savage and barbarian lands.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Unhappy land! not until the pure light of the Gospel has +illumined thee, wilt thou learn that the greatest of all gifts is +charity!</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>and I thought that to convey the Gospel to a place so wild and +remote might perhaps be considered an acceptable pilgrimage in +the eyes of my Maker. True it is that but one copy remained +of those which I had brought with me on this last journey; but +this reflection, far from discouraging me in my projected +enterprise, produced the contrary effect, as I called to mind +that, ever since the Lord revealed Himself to man, it has seemed +good to Him to accomplish the greatest ends by apparently the +most insufficient means; and I reflected that this one copy might +serve as an instrument for more good than the four thousand nine +hundred and ninety-nine copies of the edition of Madrid.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>I shall not detain the course of my narrative with reflections +as to the state of a Church which, though it pretends to be +founded on scripture, would yet keep the light of scripture from +all mankind, if possible. But Rome is fully aware that she +is not a Christian Church, and having no desire to become so, she +acts prudently in keeping from the eyes of her followers the page +which would reveal to them the truths of Christianity.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>All this does not ring quite true, and in any case it is too +much on the lines of “Sunday reading” to please the +small boy, who must, however, have found a thousand things in +that volume that were to his taste—some of the wildest <a +name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 155</span>adventures, +hairbreadth escapes, extraordinary meetings again and again with +unique people—with Benedict Mol, for example, who was +always seeking for treasure. Gypsies, bull-fighters, quaint +and queer characters of every kind, come before us in rapid +succession. Rarely, surely, have so many adventures been +crowded into the same number of pages. Only when Borrow +remembers, as he has to do occasionally, that he is an agent of +the Bible Society does the book lose its vigour and its +charm. We have already pointed out that the foundations of +the volume were contained in certain letters written by Borrow +during his five years in Spain to the secretaries of the Bible +Society in London. The recent publication of these letters +has revealed to us Borrow’s methods. When he had +settled down at Oulton he took down his notebooks, one of which +is before me, but finding this was not sufficient, he asked the +Bible Society for the loan of his letters to them. Other +letters that he hoped to use were not forthcoming, as the +following note from Miss Gurney to Mrs. Borrow indicates:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Earlham</span>, +12<i>th</i> <i>June</i>, 1840.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Borrow</span>,—I am sorry +I cannot find any of Mr. Borrow’s letters from Spain. +I don’t think we ever had any, but my brother is from home +and I therefore cannot inquire of him.</p> +<p>I send you the only two I can find. I am very glad he is +going to publish his travels, which I have no doubt will be very +interesting. It must be a pleasant object to assist him by +copying the manuscripts. If I should visit Lowestoft this +summer I shall hope to see you, but I have no immediate prospect +of doing so. With kind regards to all your party, I am, +Dear Mrs. Borrow, Yours sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">C. +Gurney</span>. <a name="citation155"></a><a href="#footnote155" +class="citation">[155]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>The Bible Society, applied to in the same manner, lent Borrow +all his letters to that organisation and its secretaries.</p> +<p>Not all were returned. Many came to Dr. Knapp when he +purchased the half of the Borrow papers that were sold after +Borrow’s death; the remainder are in my possession.</p> +<p>It is a nice point, seventy years after they were written, <a +name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 156</span>as to whom +they belong. In any case the Bible Society must have kept +copies of everything, for when, in 1911, they came to publish the +<i>Letters</i> the collection was sufficiently complete. +That publication revealed some interesting sidelights. It +proved on the one hand that Borrow had drawn more upon his +diaries than upon his letters, although he frequently reproduced +fragments of his diaries in his letters. It revealed +further the extraordinary frankness with which Borrow wrote to +his employers. It is true that it further reveals the +manner in which he throws a sop of godliness to the worthy +secretaries. But the main point is in the discovery +revealed to us that Borrow was not an artist in his +letters. Borrow was never a good letter writer, although I +think that many of the letters that appear for the first time in +these pages will prove that his letters are very interesting as +contributions to biography. If some of the letters that +helped to make up <i>The Bible in Spain</i> are interesting, it +is because in them Borrow incorporated considerable fragments of +anecdote and adventure from his note-books. It is quite a +mistake to assume, as does Dr. Knapp, that the “Rev. and +Dear Sir” at the head of a letter was the only +variation. You will look in vain in the Bible Society +correspondence for many a pearl that is contained in <i>The Bible +in Spain</i>, and happily you will look in vain in <i>The Bible +in Spain</i> for many an unctuous sentence which concludes some +of the original letters. In one case, indeed, a letter +concludes with Heber’s hymn—</p> +<blockquote><p>“From Greenland’s Icy +Mountains,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>with which Borrow’s correspondent must already have been +sufficiently familiar. But Borrow could not be other than +Borrow, and the secretaries of the Bible Society had plentiful +matter with which to astonish them. The finished +production, however, is a fascinating book. You read it +again and it becomes still more entertaining. No wonder +that it took the world by storm and made its author the lion of a +season. “A queer book will be this same <i>Bible in +Spain</i>,” wrote Borrow to John Murray in August, 1841, +“containing all my queer adventures in that queer country . +. . it will make two nice foolscap octavo volumes.” +It actually made three volumes, and Borrow was as irritated at +Mr. Murray’s delay in publishing as that publisher +afterwards <a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>became at Borrow’s own delay over +<i>Lavengro</i>. The whole book was laboriously copied out +by Mrs. Borrow. When this copy was sent to Mr. Murray, it +was submitted to his “reader,” who reported +“numerous faults in spelling and some in grammar,” to +which criticism Borrow retorted that the copy was the work of +“a country amanuensis.” The book was published +in December, 1842, but has the date 1843 on its title-page. +In its three-volumed form 4750 copies of the book were issued by +July, 1843, after which countless copies were sold in cheaper +one-volumed form. Success had at last come to Borrow. +He was one of the most talked-of writers of the day. His +elation may be demonstrated by his discussion with Dawson Turner +as to whether he should leave the manuscript of <i>The Bible in +Spain</i> to the Dean and Chapter’s Library at Norwich or +to the British Museum, by his gratification at the fact that Sir +Robert Peel referred to his book in the House of Commons, and by +his pleasure in the many appreciative reviews which, indeed, were +for the most part all that an ambitious author could +desire. “Never,” said <i>The Examiner</i>, +“was book more legibly impressed with the unmistakable mark +of genius.” “There is no taking leave of a book +like this,” said the <i>Athenæum</i>. +“Better Christmas fare we have never had it in our power to +offer our readers.”</p> +<p>The publication of <i>The Bible in Spain</i> made Borrow +famous for a time. Hitherto he had been known only to a +small religious community, the coterie that ran the Bible +Society. Even the large mass of people who subscribed to +that Society knew its agent in Spain only by meagre allusions in +the Annual Reports. Now the world was to talk about him, +and he enjoyed being talked about. Borrow declared—in +1842—that the five years he passed in Spain were the most +happy years of his existence. But then he had not had a +happy life during the previous years, as we have seen, and in +Russia he had a toilsome task with an added element of +uncertainty as to the permanence of his position. The five +years in Spain had plentiful adventure, and they closed in a +pleasant manner. Yet the year that followed, even though it +found him almost a country squire, was not a happy one. +Once again the world did not want him and his books—not the +<i>Gypsies of Spain</i> for example. Seven weeks after +publication it had sold only to the extent of <a +name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 158</span>some three +hundred copies. But the happiest year of Borrow’s +life was undoubtedly the one that followed the publication of +<i>The Bible in Spain</i>. Up to that time he had been a +mere adventurer; now he was that most joyous of beings—a +successful author; and here, from among his Papers, is a +carefully preserved relic of his social triumph:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">at Mr. Murray’s</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bookseller</span>, <span +class="smcap">Albemarle Street</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: right" class="poetry">4 <span +class="smcap">Carlton Terrace</span>, <i>Tuesday</i>, 30<i>th</i> +<i>May</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">The Prussian Minister and Madam Bunsen would be +very happy to see Mr. Borrow to-morrow, Wednesday evening, about +half past nine o’clock or later, when some German national +songs will be performed at their house, which may possibly suit +Mr. Borrow’s taste. They hoped to have met him last +night at the Bishop of Norwich’s, but arrived there too +late. They had already commissioned Lady Hall (sister to +Madam Bunsen) to express to Mr. Borrow their wish for his +acquaintance.</p> +<p>In a letter to his wife he writes of this visit to the +Prussian Minister, where he had for company “Princes and +Members of Parliament.” “I was the star of the +evening,” he says; “I thought to myself, ‘what +a difference!’” There is an independent version +of the function in the <i>Annals of the Harford Family</i>, where +a correspondent writes:</p> +<p class="poetry">There was present the amusing author of <i>The +Bible in Spain</i>, a man who is remarkable for his extraordinary +powers as a linguist, and for the originality of his character, +not to speak of the wonderful adventures he narrates, and the +ease and facility with which he tells them. He kept us +laughing a good part of breakfast time by the oddity of his +remarks, as well as the positiveness of his assertions, often +rather startling, and, like his books, partaking of the +marvellous.</p> +<p>Borrow’s next letter to his wife is more chastened:</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Suffolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right" class="poetry"><i>Wednesday</i>, 58 +<span class="smcap">Jermyn Street</span>.</p> +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I +was glad to receive your letter; I half expected one on +Tuesday. I am, on the whole, very comfortable, and people +are kind. I passed last Sunday at Clapham with Mrs. Browne; +I was glad to go there for it was a gloomy day. They are +now glad enough to ask me: I suppose I must stay in London <a +name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>through +next week. I have an invitation to two grand parties, and +it is as well to have something for one’s money. I +called at the Bible Society—all remarkably civil, Joseph +especially so. I think I shall be able to manage with my +own Dictionary. There is now a great demand for +Morrison. Yesterday I again dined at the Murrays. +There was a family party; very pleasant. To-morrow I dine +with an old school-fellow. Murray is talking of printing a +new edition to sell for five shillings: those rascals, the +Americans, have, it seems, reprinted it, and are selling it for +<i>eighteen</i> pence. Murray says he shall print ten +thousand copies; it is chiefly wanted for the Colonies. He +says the rich people and the libraries have already got it, and +he is quite right, for nearly three thousand copies have been +sold at 27s. <a name="citation159"></a><a href="#footnote159" +class="citation">[159]</a> There is no longer the high +profit to be made on books there formerly was, as the rascals +abroad pirate the good ones, and in the present state of +copyright there is no help; we can, however, keep the American +edition out of the Colonies, which is something. I have +nothing more to say save to commend you not to go on the water +without me; perhaps you would be overset; and do not go on the +bridge again till I come. Take care of Habismilk and +Craffs; kiss the little mare and old Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The earliest literary efforts of Borrow in Spain were his two +translations of St. Luke’s Gospel—the one into +Romany, the other into Basque. This last book he did not +actually translate himself, but procured “from a Basque +physician of the name of Oteiza.”</p> +<h2><a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +160</span>CHAPTER XXII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Richard Ford</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> most distinguished of +Borrow’s friends in the years that succeeded his return +from Spain was Richard Ford, whose interests were so largely +wrapped up in the story of that country. Ford was possessed +of a very interesting personality, which was not revealed to the +public until Mr. Rowland E. Prothero issued his excellent +biography in 1905, although Ford died in 1858. This delay +is the more astonishing as Ford’s <i>Handbook for +Travellers in Spain</i> was one of the most famous books of its +day. Ford’s father, Sir Richard Ford, was a friend of +William Pitt, and twice sat in Parliament, being at one time +Under-Secretary of State for the Home Department. He ended +his official career as a police magistrate at Bow Street, but +deserves to be better known to fame as the creator of the mounted +police force of London. Ford was born with a silver spoon +in his mouth, inheriting a fortune from his father, and from his +mother an extraordinary taste for art. Although called to +the Bar he never practised, but spent his time in travelling on +the Continent, building up a valuable collection of books and +paintings. He was three times married, and all these unions +seem to have been happy, in spite of an almost unpleasant +celerity in the second alliance, which took place nine months +after the death of his first wife. A very large portion of +his life he devoted to Spain, which he knew so intimately that in +1845 he produced that remarkable <i>Handbook</i> in two closely +printed volumes, a most repellent-looking book in appearance to +those who are used to contemporary typography, usually so +attractive. Ford, in fact, was so full of his subject that +instead of a handbook he wrote a work which ought to have +appeared in half a dozen volumes. In later editions the +book was condensed into one of Mr. Murray’s usual +guide-books, but the curious may still enjoy the work in its +earliest form, so rich in discussions of the <a +name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 161</span>Spanish +people, their art and architecture, their history and their +habits. The greater part of the letters in Mr. +Prothero’s collection are addressed to Addington, who was +our ambassador to Madrid for some years, until he was superseded +by George Villiers, Lord Clarendon, with whom Borrow came so much +in contact. Those letters reveal a remarkably cultivated +mind and an interesting outlook on life, an outlook that was +always intensely anti-democratic. It is impossible to +sympathise with him in his brutal reference to the execution by +the Spaniards of Robert Boyd, a young Irishman who was captured +with Torrijos by the Spanish Government in 1831. Richard +Ford apparently left Spain very shortly before George Borrow +entered that country. Ford passed through Madrid on his way +to England in September, 1833. He then settled near Exeter, +purchasing an Elizabethan cottage called Heavitree House, with +twelve acres of land, and devoted himself to turning it into a +beautiful mansion. Presumably he first met Borrow in Mr. +John Murray’s famous drawing-room soon after the +publication of <i>The Gypsies in Spain</i>. He tells +Addington, indeed, in a letter of 14th January, 1841:</p> +<blockquote><p>I have made acquaintance with an extraordinary +fellow, George Borrow, who went out to Spain to convert the +gypsies. He is about to publish his failure, and a curious +book it will be. It was submitted to my perusal by the +hesitating Murray.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Ford’s article upon Borrow’s book appeared in +<i>The British and Foreign Review</i>, and Ford was delighted +that the book had created a sensation, and that he had given +sound advice as to publishing the manuscript. When <i>The +Bible in Spain</i> was ready, Ford was one of the first to read +it. Then he wrote to John Murray:</p> +<blockquote><p>I read Borrow with great delight all the way down +per rail. You may depend upon it that the book will sell, +which after all is the rub.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And in that letter Ford describes the book as putting him in +mind of <i>Gil Blas</i> with “a touch of +Bunyan.” Lockhart himself reviewed the book in <i>The +Quarterly</i>, so Ford had to go to the rival organ—<i>The +Edinburgh Review</i>—receiving £44 for the article, +which sum, he tells us, he invested in Château Margaux.</p> +<p><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +162</span>Ford’s first letter to Borrow in my collection is +written in Spanish, but I content myself with giving only a +translation:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span><br /> +(<i>Translated from the Spanish</i>)</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Heavitree +House</span>, <span class="smcap">Exeter</span>, <i>Jan.</i> 19, +1842.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>,—I was glad to +hear from you of the successful termination of your literary +work. Fancy those rogues of Zincali! They have +managed to make good money—I always thought Messrs. M. very +decent people, it usually happens that those who have much to do +with good class of people become themselves somewhat large-minded +and liberal. You must admit that I am a model critic, and +that I cry, “Luck to the Books.” Full well do I +know how you thank the most noble and illustrious public! +Go ahead, therefore, and leave nothing forgotten in the ink-pot; +but by all that is holy, shun the Spanish historians, who are +liars and fools! I regret very much that you should have +left London; I leave here on Saturday with the intention of +paying a visit of about three weeks to the maternal home, as is +my custom in the month of the Christmas boxes. Very much +would I have liked to see you and discuss with you about things +of Spain and other gypsy lore and fancy topics, but of which at +present nothing do I understand. I shall not fail to take +with me the papers and documents which you kindly sent me to +Cheltenham. I will make them into a parcel and leave them +with Messrs. Murray, so that you can send for them whenever you +like. I shall do my best to penetrate those mysteries and +that strange people. Mr. Murray, junior, writes in a +pleased tone respecting <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. I should +like to write an article on a subject so full of interest. +Possibly my article on the gypsies will appear in the next +number, and in such case it will prove more useful to you than if +it appeared now. The life and memory of reviews are very +short. They appear like butterflies, and die in a +day. The dead and the departed have no friends. The +living to the feast, the dead to the grave. No sooner does +a new number appear than the last one is already forgotten and +joins the things of the past. What do you think? At a +party recently in which a drawing was held, I drew the <i>Krallis +de los Zincali</i>. I beg to enclose the table (or index) +for your Majesty’s guidance; really, I must have in my +veins a few drops of the genuine wanderer. Mr. Gagargos has +been just appointed Spanish Consul in Tunis, where he will not +lack means for progressing in the Arabic language and +literature.—Yours, in all friendliness,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Richard +Ford</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here is a second letter of the following month:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><i>February</i> +26<i>th</i>, <span class="smcap">Heavitree House</span>, <span +class="smcap">Exeter</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Batuschca Borrow</span>,—I am glad +that the paper pleased you, and I think it calculated to promote +the sale, which a too copious <a name="page163"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 163</span>extracting article does not always +do, as people think that they have had the cream. Napier +sent me £44 for the thirty-two pages; this, with +Kemble’s £50, 8s. for the <i>Zincali</i>, nearly +reaches £100: I lay it out in claret, being not amiss to do +in the world, and richer by many hundreds a year than last year, +but with a son at Eton and daughters coming out, and an overgrown +set of servants, money is never to be despised, and I find that +expenditure by some infernal principle has a greater tendency to +increase than income, and that when the latter increases it never +does so in the ratio of the former—enough of that. +How to write an article without being +condensed—epigrammatical and <i>epitomical cream-skimming +that is</i>—I know not, one has so much to say and so +little space to say it in.</p> +<p>I rejoice to hear of your meditated biography; really I am +your wet nurse, and you ought to dedicate it to me; take time, +but not too much; avoid, all attempts to write fine; just dash +down the first genuine uppouring idea and thoughts in the +plainest language and that which comes first, and then fine it +and compress it. Let us have a glossary; for people cry out +for a Dragoman, and half your local gusto evaporates.</p> +<p>I am amazed at the want of profits—’tis sad to +think what meagre profits spring from pen and ink; but Cervantes +died a beggar and is immortal. It is the devil who comes +into the market with ready money: <i>No</i> solvendum in futuro: +I well know that it is cash down which makes the mare to go; +dollars will add spurs even to the Prince of Mustard’s +paces.</p> +<p>It is a bore not receiving even the crumbs which drop from +such tables as those spread by Mr. Eyre: Murray, however, is a +deep cove, <i>y muy pratico en cosas de libreteria</i>: and he +knew that the <i>first out</i> about Afghan would sell +prodigiously. I doubt now if Lady Sale would now be such a +general Sale. Murray builds solid castles in Eyre. +Los de España rezalo bene de ser siempre muy Cosas de +España: Cachaza! Cachaza! firme, firme! +Arriba! no dejei nada en el tintero; basta que sea nuevo y muy +piquunte cor sal y ajo: a los Ingleses le gustan mucho las +Longanizas de Abarbenel y los buenos Choriyos de Montanches:</p> +<p>El handbook sa her concluido jeriayer: abora principia el +trabajo: Tengo benho un monton de papel acombroso. El +menester reducirlo a la mitad y eso so hara castratandolo de lo +bueno duro y particolar a romperse el alma:</p> +<p>I had nothing to do whatever with the <i>manner</i> in which +the handbook puff was affixed to your book. I wrote the +said paper, but concluded that Murray would put it, as usual, in +the flyleaf of the book, as he does in his others, and the <i>Q. +Rev.</i></p> +<p>Sabe mucho el hijo—ha imaginado altacar mi obresilla al +flejo de vuestra immortalidad y lo que le toca de corazon, +facilitarsele la venta.</p> +<p>Yo no tengo nada en eso y quedé tanalustado amo +V<sup>m</sup> a la primera vista de aquella hoja volante. +Conque Mantengare V<sup>m</sup> <a name="page164"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 164</span>bueno y alegre y mande V<sup>m</sup> +siempre, a S: S: S: y buen Critico, L: I: M: B.,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">R. F.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During these years—1843 and onwards—Borrow was +regularly corresponding with Ford, as we learn from Ford’s +own words:—</p> +<blockquote><p>Borrow writes me word that his Life is nearly +ready, and it will run the Bible hull down. If he tells +truth it will be a queer thing. I shall review it for +<i>The Edinburgh</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To George +Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">123 <span class="smcap">Park +Mansions</span>, <i>Thursday</i>, <i>April</i> 13, 1843.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Batuschca B.</span>,—Knowing that +you seldom see a newspaper I send you one in which Peel speaks +very handsomely of your labour. Such a public testimonial +is a good puff, and I hope will attract +purchasers.—Sincerely yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">R. F.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This refers to a speech of Peel’s in the House of +Commons, in which in reply to a very trivial question by Dr. +Bowring, then M.P. for Bolton, upon the subject of the +correspondence of the British Government with Turkey, the great +statesman urged:</p> +<blockquote><p>It might have been said to Mr. Borrow, with +respect to Spain, that it would be impossible to distribute the +Bible in that country in consequence of the danger of offending +the prejudices which prevail there; yet he, a private individual, +by showing some zeal in what he believed to be right, succeeded +in triumphing over many obstacles. <a name="citation164"></a><a +href="#footnote164" class="citation">[164]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow was elated with the compliment, and asked Mr. Murray +two months later if he could not advertise the eulogium with one +of his books.</p> +<p>In June, 1844, while the <i>Handbook for Travellers in +Spain</i> was going to press, Ford went on a visit to Borrow at +Oulton Hall, and describes the pair as “two rum coves in a +queer country”; and further gives one of the best +descriptions of the place:</p> +<blockquote><p>His house hangs over a lonely lake covered with +wild fowl, and is girt with dark firs through which the wind +sighs sadly.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>When the <i>Handbook for Travellers in Spain</i> was published +<a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 165</span>in 1845 +it was agreed that Borrow should write the review for <i>The +Quarterly</i>. Instead of writing a review Borrow, +possessed by that tactlessness which so frequently overcame him, +wrote an article on “Spain and the Spaniards,” very +largely of abuse, an absolutely useless production from the point +of view of Ford the author, and of Lockhart, his editor +friend. Borrow never forgave Lockhart for returning this +manuscript, but that it had no effect on Ford’s friendship +is shown by the letter on p. 167, dated 1846, written long after +the unfortunate episode, and another in Dr. Knapp’s +<i>Life</i>, dated 1851.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><i>Oct.</i> 6, 1844, <span +class="smcap">Cheltenham</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Madam</span>,—I trouble you +with a line to say that I have received a letter from Don Jorge, +from Constantinople. He evidently is now anxious to be +quietly back again on the banks of your peaceful lake; he speaks +favourably of his health, which has been braced up by change of +air, scenery, and occupations, so I hope he will get through next +winter without any bronchitis, and go on with his own +biography.</p> +<p>He asks me when <i>Handbook</i> will be done? Please to +tell him that it is done and printing, but that it runs double +the length which was contemplated: however, it will be a +<i>queer</i> book, and tell him that we reserve it until his +return to <i>review</i> it. I am now on the point of +quitting this pretty place and making for my home at Hevitre, +where we trust to arrive next Thursday.</p> +<p>Present my best compliments to your mother, and believe me, +your faithful and obedient servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Rch. +Ford</span>.</p> +<p>When you write to Don Jorge thank him for his letter.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">123 <span class="smcap">Parliament +Street</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grosvenor Square</span>, <i>Feb.</i> 17, +1845.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Borrow</span>,—<i>El hombre +propose pero Dios es que dispose</i>. I had hoped to have +run down and seen you and yours in your quiet Patmos; but the +Sangrados will it otherwise. I have never been quite free +from a tickling pain since the bronchitis of last year, and it +has recently assumed the form of extreme relaxation and +irritation in the uvula, which is that pendulous appendage which +hangs over the orifice of the throat. Mine has become so +seriously elongated that, after submitting for four days last +week to its being burnt with caustic every morning in the hopes +that it might thus crimp and contract itself, I <a +name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>have been +obliged to have it amputated. This has left a great +soreness, which militates against talking and deglutition, and +would render our charming chats after the Madeira over la +cheminea del <i>cueldo</i> inadvisable. I therefore defer +the visit: my Sangrado recommends me, when the summer advances, +to fly away into change of air, change of scene; in short, must +seek an <i>hejira</i> as you made. How strange the +coincidence! but those who have wandered much about require +periodical migration, as the encaged quail twice a year beats its +breast against the wires.</p> +<p>I am not quite determined where to go, whether to Scotland and +the sweet heath-aired hills, or to the wild rocks and clear trout +streams of the Tyrol; it is a question between the gun and the +rod. If I go north assuredly si Dios quiere I will take +your friendly and peaceful abode in my way.</p> +<p>As to my immediate plans I can say nothing before Thursday, +when the Sangrado is to report on some diagnosis which he +expects.</p> +<p>Meanwhile <i>Handbook</i> is all but out, and Lockhart and +Murray are eager to have you in the <i>Q. R.</i> I enclose +you a note from the editor. How feel you inclined? I +would send you down 30 sheets, and you might run your eye through +them. <i>There are plums in the pudding</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Richard +Ford</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A proof in slip form of the rejected review, with +Borrow’s corrections written upon it, is in my +possession. Our author pictures Gibraltar as a human entity +thus addressing Spain:</p> +<blockquote><p>Accursed land! I hate thee, and far from +being a defence, will invariably prove a thorn in thy side.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And so on through many sentences of excited rhetoric. +Borrow forgot while he wrote that he had a book to review—a +book, moreover, issued by the publishing house which issued the +periodical in which his review was to appear. And this book +was a book in ten thousand—a veritable mine of information +and out of the way learning. Surely this slight reference +amid many dissertations of his own upon Spain was to damn his +friend’s book with faint praise:</p> +<blockquote><p>A Handbook is a Handbook after all, a very useful +thing, but still—the fact is that we live in an age of +humbug, in which everything, to obtain note and reputation, must +depend less upon its own intrinsic merit than on the name it +bears. The present book is about one of the best books ever +written upon Spain; but we are afraid that it will never be +estimated at its proper value; for after all a Handbook is a +Handbook.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 167</span>Yet +successful as was Ford’s <i>Handbook</i>, it is doubtful +but that Borrow was right in saying that it had better have been +called <i>Wanderings in Spain</i> or <i>Wonders of the +Peninsula</i>. How much more gracious was the statement of +another great authority on Spain—Sir William +Stirling-Maxwell—who said that “so great a literary +achievement had never before been performed under so humble a +title.” The article, however, furnishes a trace of +autobiography in the statement by Borrow that he had long been in +the habit of reading <i>Don Quixote</i> once every nine +years. Yet he tells us that he prefers Le Sage’s +<i>Gil Blas</i> to <i>Don Quixote</i>, “the characters +introduced being certainly more true to nature.” But +altogether we do not wonder that Lockhart declined to publish the +article. Here is the last letter in my possession; after +this there is one in the Knapp collection dated 1851, +acknowledging a copy of <i>Lavengro</i>, in which Fords adds: +“Mind when you come to see the Exhibition you look in here, +for I long to have a chat,” and so the friendship appears +to have collapsed as so many friendships do. Ford died at +Heavitree in 1858:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Heavitree</span>, <i>Jany.</i> 28, 1846.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Querido Don Jorge</span>,—How are +you getting on in health and spirits? and how has this absence of +winter suited you? Are you inclined for a run up to town +next week? I propose to do so, and Murray, who has got +Washington Irving, etc., to dine with him on Wednesday the 4th, +writes to me to know if I thought you could be induced to join +us. Let me whisper in your ear, yea: it will do you good +and give change of air, scene and thought: we will go and beat up +the renowned Billy Harper, and see how many more ribs are stoved +in.</p> +<p>I have been doing a paper for the <i>Q. R.</i> on Spanish +Architecture; how gets on the <i>Lavengro</i>? I see the +“gypsies” are coming out in the <i>Colonial</i>, +which will have a vast sale.</p> +<p>John Murray seems to be flourishing in spite of corn and +railomania.</p> +<p>Remember me kindly and respectfully to your Ladies, and beg +them to tell you what good it will do you to have a frisk up to +town, and a little quiet chat with your pal and amigo,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Richard +Ford</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +168</span>CHAPTER XXIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Eastern Europe</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> 1844 Borrow set out for the most +distant holiday that he was ever to undertake. Passing +through London in March, 1844, he came under the critical eye of +Elizabeth Rigby, afterwards Lady Eastlake, that formidable critic +who four years later—in 1848—wrote the cruel review +of <i>Jane Eyre</i> in <i>The Quarterly</i> that gave so much +pain to Charlotte Brontë. She was not a nice +woman. These sharp, “clever” women-critics +rarely are; and Borrow never made a pleasant impression when such +women came across his path—instance Harriet Martineau, +Frances Cobbe, and Agnes Strickland. We should sympathise +with him, and not count it for a limitation, as some of his +biographers have done. The future Lady Eastlake thus +disposes of Borrow in her one reference to him:</p> +<blockquote><p><i>March</i> 20.—Borrow came in the evening; +now a fine man, but a most disagreeable one; a kind of character +that would be most dangerous in rebellious times—one that +would suffer or persecute to the utmost. His face is +expressive of strong-headed determination.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Quoting this description of Borrow, Dr. Knapp describes it as +“shallow”—for “he was one of the kindest +of men, as my documents show.” The description is +shallow enough, because the writer had no kind of comprehension +of Borrow; but then, perhaps, his champion had not. Borrow +was neither one of the “kindest of men” nor the +reverse. He was a good hater and a whole-hearted lover, and +to be thus is to fill a certain uncomfortable but not +discreditable place in the scheme of things. About a month +later Borrow was on the way to the East, travelling by Paris and +Vienna.</p> +<p>In May he is in Vienna, whence he writes to his +wife:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 169</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Vienna</span>, +<i>May</i> 16, 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—I arrived +here the day before yesterday, and so early as yesterday I had +begun a letter for you, but I now commence another, as I have +rather altered my intentions since that time. I thought at +first I should not like this place, for the difficulty of finding +accommodation in the inns is very great. I went to four, +but found them all full, and though I at last got into one, it +was in every respect inconvenient and uncomfortable; to-day, +however, I have taken a lodging for a month, two handsome +chambers at about 25 shillings per week. I do not like +dark, gloomy places, as they affect my poor spirits +terribly. You will find the address farther on, and I wish +you to write to me, for I long so much to hear from my +dearest. Since I last wrote I have traversed nearly the +whole breadth of Germany. On leaving Strasbourg I passed +through what is called the Black Forest, a range of mountains +covered with pine forests; the scenery was grand and beautiful to +a degree. I then came to wide plains, which crossing I +reached Ulm and Augsburg, which last place, as you will see by +the map, is in the heart of Germany. It is celebrated for +what is called the Confession of Augsburg: that is, the +declaration of faith which was published there by Luther and the +other reformers. I then went to Munich, a beautiful city, +the capital of the Kingdom of Bavaria, where there is a most +noble gallery of pictures; the porter is a giant about seven feet +high. I entered into discourse with him, and found him very +good-natured and communicative. From Munich I went to +Ratisbon, a fine old place, and there I embarked in a steamer +which goes down the Danube, the noblest river in Europe—you +cannot conceive anything equal to the grandeur of its +banks. Almost all the way from Ratisbon to Vienna it runs +amongst huge mountains covered with forests from the top to the +bottom; the stream is wonderfully rapid, running like a mill +flush; the waters are whitish, being continually fed by the snows +of the Alps. Here and there upon the banks you see the +ruins of old castles, which add considerably to the effect of the +scene; before reaching Vienna, however, it leaves the mountains +and spreads itself over a wide plain, in the midst of which +Vienna stands. Since I last wrote to you I have had some +strange adventures, but the strangest of all is the +following.</p> +<p>We were two days in coming down the Danube, and the first +night we stopped at Lenz, a frontier town of Austria, in the +heart of the mountains. I was very tired and low-spirited, +and, after looking about the town a little while, I went to the +inn where I had put up and went to bed. The evening was +dull, sultry and oppressive; the room, however, where I lay, +overlooked the Danube, and a refreshing coolness came from the +water through the window, which I had left open. I had <a +name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 170</span>composed +myself and was just falling to sleep, when I was roused by a +knock at the door. “Come in,” I cried, and a +man in a pair of high Hessian boots, and dressed in black, walked +into the room. I had seen him on board the steamer, and had +held some conversation with him in French about Spain, concerning +which he seemed very inquisitive. He held something in his +hand which I could not distinguish, as it was dark, so much so +that I should have hardly recognized the man himself but for his +Hessian boots. He came straight to the bed and seized my +hand. “So it is you,” said he; “I almost +thought I recognized you on board the vessel by your manner of +discourse, but now I am certain: I have just seen your name below +inscribed by your own hand in the travellers’ book. +How astonishing, that I should thus have met the very person whom +I have long had the greatest desire to see!” +“Who are you?” said I; “I have not the pleasure +of knowing you.” “I am the Dean of +Ratisbon,” said he; “and I come to beg, as the +greatest of favours, that you would condescend to write your name +in this book, which I always carry about with me when I +travel.” He then put into my hand Murray’s +cheap edition of “The Bible in Spain,” and, ringing +the bell, called for a light. “I am a Roman +Catholic,” said he, “but I know how to appreciate +genius, especially such as yours. Whenever you set foot in +Ratisbon again, pray, pray take up your abode in my house . . +.”</p> +<p>Vienna is a very strange place; I do not much like it, but I +think I can settle down here for a month tolerably well, +especially now I have procured a nice lodging, and commence +writing a little anew. God grant that I may be successful; +perhaps if I am I may yet see better days, and get rid of the +thoughts which have so long beset me. Though I have been +here only two days, I have already seen a great deal, amongst +other things the Emperor and the Empress; they go to the royal +chapel every morning, which, though in the palace, is open to +everybody. It is a small but beautiful chapel, very simple, +with a Christ on the Cross over the altar, a picture on the right +hand side, and Maria with her crown of rays on the left; four +tall Heyduks, or Hungarian soldiers, stand in front of the altar, +with their backs to the people and their faces to the officiating +priests. The singing was admirable; the <i>theatre +band</i>, which is perhaps the best in the world, being all +there, it was so powerful that the voices of the priests could +scarcely be heard. The Emperor sat in a kind of covered +gallery, his head and the upper part of his body visible through +a window; when the service was over, however, I had a full view +of him. I stood in one of the ante-rooms, through which he +passed to the interior of the palace; the Empress was at his +right hand. He is a small, diminutive man, not much more +than five feet high; his features, however, are pleasing and +good-humoured. The Empress is a head and shoulders taller, +and is about the finest woman I ever saw; she looked what she +is—Empress of one <a name="page171"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 171</span>of the most powerful nations of the +world. What a beautiful country is Germany, in every point +of view superior to France, which is anything but +beautiful. Notwithstanding its inhabitants call it +“the lovely country,” I have traversed it from south +to north, and from west to east, and have scarcely seen anything +pretty about it, save Versailles, and that is all art, whereas in +this country you see not a trace of art, nothing but wild and +beautiful nature. The people, moreover, are kind and good, +and not continually boasting of themselves and country like the +French. About nine days ago I wrote to my dear mother from +Augsburg; I hope she received the letter, and that she informed +you, my dearest, as I entreated her to do. I am now a great +way from you; Vienna is one of the cities in Europe the most +distant from England, double as far as Madrid, and more remote +even than St. Petersburg; it is about one thousand miles from +Paris. The Austrians are quite a distinct race, differing +very much from the Prussians and the people of the North of +Germany. You scarcely see any foreigners here—few +English or French—it is too far for a common trip, and the +means of conveyance much more slow than in other parts. +From here (D.V.) I intend to go to Hungary, which is close by, +being only a day’s journey down the Danube; and from +thence, when I have spoken with the Gypsies, I shall make the +best of my way to Constantinople, and then home by Russia. +I want, if I possibly can, to compose my poor mind, for it is no +use running about countries unless the mind is at rest. I +knew that before I left home, but I had become so unsettled and +wretched, as you know, that I could not rest or do anything; the +last winter did me no good, and, indeed, we have all of us some +reason to remember it. I go on taking those +homœopathic globules, but whether they are of any use or +effect I can scarcely say; there is one thing, however, which I +am sure is of much greater use and comfort to me—it is the +little book which my dearest gave me when I left her; I look into +it every morning, and sometimes twice or thrice a day. I +have done everything you bid me when I set out, and I hope to God +that when I return I shall find you well. You are almost my +only comfort here on earth, and without you I feel that I should +be lost and wild, and my sensations, alas, never deceive +me. I hope that in a week or two my dear mother will come +over and see you, and that she will be a comfort to you, and you +to her; poor, dear thing, she loves you, as well she has right, +for a kind, dear, and true wife you have been to her son. +Take care of those —, <i>leurs oreilles sont toujours +ouvertes</i>. Don’t let us be blinded a third +time. I hope all the animals are well. I saw to-day +in the street two enormous parrots or mackaws to sell—one +was quite white, and the other red. I thought of poor, dear +Hen.; I am making a collection of coins for her, gold and silver, +and I hope at my return to bring her some French, Turkish, and +Russian money. I shall be glad to get home, for it is +doleful to be alone, especially at night; I have, <a +name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 172</span>however, +your little book, which I take in my hand, and which frequently +puts me to sleep. And now, my Carreta, I must conclude, +having said all I have to say for the present. This is my +direction:—</p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: right">Mr. Borrow,<br /> +Chez Mr. Guglielmi,<br /> +Rothenthurmstrasse N<sup>o</sup> 642, 3. étage,<br /> +Vienna,<br /> +Austria.</p> +<blockquote><p>God bless you, my dearest; I should like to hear +from you. You will probably receive this in about ten days, +so that I could have an answer from you before I leave. +Kiss Hen. remember me to dear Lucy and Mr. and Mrs. Utting; and +God bless you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In June he is in Buda Pesth, whence he wrote to his wife:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Pesth</span>, +<span class="smcap">Hungary</span>, 14<i>th</i> <i>June</i> +1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—I was so +glad to get your letter which reached me about nine days ago; on +receiving it, I instantly made preparations for quitting Vienna, +but owing to two or three things which delayed me, I did not get +away till the 20th; I hope that you received the last letter +which I sent, as I doubt not that you are all anxious to hear +from me. You cannot think how anxious I am to get back to +you, but since I am already come so far, it will not do to return +before my object is accomplished. Heaven knows that I do +not travel for travelling’s sake, having a widely different +object in view. I came from Vienna here down the Danube, +but I daresay I shall not go farther by the river, but shall +travel through the country to Bucharest in Wallachia, which is +the next place I intend to visit; but Hungary is a widely +different country to Austria, not at all civilised, no coaches, +etc., but only carts and wagons; however, it is all the same +thing to me as I am quite used to rough it; Bucharest is about +three hundred miles from here; the country, as I have said +before, is wild, but the people are quite harmless—it is +only in Spain that any danger is to be feared from your fellow +creatures. In Bucharest I shall probably stay a +fortnight. I have a letter to a French gentleman there from +Baron Taylor. Pesth is very much like Edinburgh—there +is an old and a new town, and it is only the latter which is +called Pesth, the name of the old is Buda, which stands on the +side of an enormous mountain overlooking the new town, the Danube +running between. The two towns together contain about +120,000 inhabitants; I delivered the <a name="page173"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 173</span>letter which dear Woodfall was kind +enough to send; it was to a person, a Scotchman, who is +superintending in the building of the chain bridge over the +Danube; he is a very nice person, and has shown me every kind of +civility; indeed, every person here is very civil; yesterday I +dined at the house of a rich Greek; the dinner was magnificent, +the only drawback was that they pressed me too much to eat and +drink; there was a deal of champagne, and they would make me +drink it till I was almost sick, for it is a wine that I do not +like, being far too sweet. Since I have been here I have +bathed twice in the Danube, and find myself much the better for +it; I both sleep and eat better than I did. I have also +been about another chapter, and get on tolerably well; were I not +so particular I should get on faster, but I wish that everything +that I write in this next be first rate. Tell Mama that +this chapter begins with a dialogue between her and my father; I +have likewise contrived to bring in the poor old dog in a manner +which I think will be interesting. I began this letter some +days ago, but have been so pleasantly occupied that I have made +little progress till now. Clarke, poor fellow, does not +know how to make enough of me. He says he could scarcely +believe his eyes when he first received the letter, as he has +just got <i>The Bible in Spain</i> from England, and was reading +it. This is the 17th, and in a few days I start for a place +called Debreczen, from whence I shall proceed gradually on my +journey. The next letter which you receive will probably be +from Transylvania, the one after that from Bucharest, and the +third D.V. from Constantinople. If you like you may write +to Constantinople, directing it to the care of the English +Ambassador, but be sure to pay the postage.</p> +<p>Before I left Vienna Baron Hammer, the great Orientalist, +called upon me; his wife was just dead, poor thing, which +prevented him showing me all the civility which he would +otherwise have done. He took me to the Imperial +Library. Both my books were there, <i>Gypsies</i> and +<i>Bible</i>. He likewise procured me a ticket to see the +Imperial treasure. (Tell Henrietta that I saw there the +diamond of Charles the Bold; it is as large as a walnut.) I +likewise saw the finest opal, as I suppose, in the world; it was +the size of a middling pear; there was likewise a hyacinth as big +as a swan’s egg; I likewise saw a pearl so large that they +had wrought the figure of a cock out of it, and the cock was +somewhat more than an inch high, but the thing which struck me +most was the sword of Tamerlane, generally called Timour the +Tartar; both the hilt and scabbard were richly adorned with +diamonds and emeralds, but I thought more of the man than I did +of them, for he was the greatest conqueror the world ever saw (I +have spoken of him in <i>Lavengro</i> in the chapter about David +Haggart). Nevertheless, although I have seen all these fine +things, I shall be glad to get back to my Carreta and my darling +mother and to dear Hen. From Debreczen I hope to write to +kind dear Woodfall, and to Lord <a name="page174"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 174</span>from Constantinople. I must +likewise write to Hasfeld. The mulct of thirty pounds upon +Russian passports is only intended for the subjects of +Russia. I see by the journals that the Emperor has been in +England; I wonder what he is come about; however, the less I say +about that the better, as I shall soon be in his country. +Tell Hen that I have got her a large piece of Austrian gold +money, worth about forty-two shillings; it is quite new and very +handsome; considerably wider than the Spanish ounce, only not +near so thick, as might be expected, being of considerably less +value; when I get to Constantinople I will endeavour to get a +Turkish gold coin. I have also got a new Austrian silver +dollar and a half one; these are rather cumbersome, and I +don’t care much about them—as for the large gold +coin, I carry it in my pocket-book, which has been of great use +to me hitherto. I have not yet lost anything, only a pocket +handkerchief or two as usual; but I was obliged to buy two other +shirts at Vienna; the weather is so hot, that it is quite +necessary to change them every other day; they were beautiful +linen ones, and I think you will like them when you see. I +shall be so glad to get home and continue, if possible, my old +occupation. I hope my next book will sell; one comfort is +that nothing like it has ever been published before. I hope +you all get on comfortably, and that you catch some fish. I +hope my dear mother is well, and that she will continue with you +till the end of July at least; ah! that is my month, I was born +in it, it is the pleasantest month in the year; would to God that +my fate had worn as pleasant an aspect as the month in which I +was born. God bless you all. Write to me, <i>to the +care of the British Embassy</i>, Constantinople. Kind +remembrances to Pilgrim.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In the intervening journey between Pesth and Constantinople he +must have talked long and wandered far and wide among the +gypsies, for Charles L. Brace in his <i>Hungary in</i> 1851 gives +us a glimpse of him at Grosswardein holding conversation with the +gypsies:</p> +<blockquote><p>They described his appearance—his tall, +lank, muscular form—and mentioned that he had been much in +Spain, and I saw that it must be that most ubiquitous of +travellers, Mr. Borrow.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The four following letters require no comment:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Debreczen</span>, <span +class="smcap">Hungary</span>, 8<i>th</i> <i>July</i> 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Carreta</span>,—I write +to you from Debreczen, a town in the heart of Hungary, where I +have been for the last fortnight with the exception of three days +during which I was making a journey to Tokay, which is about +forty miles distant. <a name="page175"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 175</span>My reason for staying here so long +was my liking the place where I have experienced every kind of +hospitality; almost all the people in these parts are +Protestants, and they are so fond of the very name of Englishman +that when one arrives they scarcely know how to make enough of +him; it is well the place is so remote that very few are ever +seen here, perhaps not oftener than once in ten years, for if +some of our scamps and swell mob were once to find their way +there the good people of Hungary would soon cease to have much +respect for the English in general; as it is they think that they +are all men of honour and accomplished gentlemen whom it becomes +them to receive well in order that they may receive from them +lessons in civilisation; I wonder what they would think if they +were to meet such fellows as Squarem and others whom I could +mention. I find my knowledge of languages here of great +use, and the people are astonished to hear me speak French, +Italian, German, Russian, and occasionally Gypsy. I have +already met with several Gypsies; those who live abroad in the +wildernesses are quite black; the more civilised wander about as +musicians, playing on the fiddle, at which they are very expert, +they speak the same languages as those in England, with slight +variations, and upon the whole they understand me very +well. Amongst other places I have been to Tokay, where I +drank some of the wine. I am endeavouring to bring two or +three bottles to England, for I thought of my mother and yourself +and Hen., and I have got a little wooden case made; it is very +sweet and of a pale straw colour; whether I shall be able to +manage it I do not know; however, I shall make the attempt. +At Tokay the wine is only two shillings the bottle, and I have a +great desire that you should taste some of it. I sincerely +hope that we shall soon all meet together in health and +peace. I shall be glad enough to get home, but since I am +come so far it is as well to see as much as possible. Would +you think it, the Bishop of Debreczen came to see me the other +day and escorted me about the town, followed by all the +professors of the college; this was done merely because I was an +Englishman and a Protestant, for here they are almost all of the +reformed religion and full of love and enthusiasm for it. +It is probable that you will hear from Woodfall in a day or two; +the day before yesterday I wrote to him and begged him to write +to you to let you know, as I am fearful of a letter miscarrying +and your being uneasy. This is unfortunately post day and I +must send away the letter in a very little time, so that I cannot +say all to you that I could wish; I shall stay here about a week +longer, and from here shall make the best of my way to +Transylvania and Bucharest; I shall stay at Bucharest about a +fortnight, and shall then dash off for Constantinople—I +shan’t stay there long—but when once there it matters +not as it is a civilised country from which start steamers to any +part where you may want to go. I hope to receive a letter +from you there. You cannot imagine what pleasure I felt +when I got your last. Oh, it was <a +name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 176</span>such a +comfort to me! I shall have much to tell you when I get +back. Yesterday I went to see a poor wretch who is about to +be hanged; he committed a murder here two years ago, and the day +after tomorrow he is to be executed—they expose the people +here who are to suffer three days previous to their +execution—I found him in a small apartment guarded by +soldiers, with hundreds of people staring at him through the door +and the windows; I was admitted into the room as I went with two +officers; he had an enormous chain about his waist and his feet +were manacled; he sat smoking a pipe; he was, however, very +penitent, and said that he deserved to die, as well he might; he +had murdered four people, beating out their brains with a club; +he was without work, and requested of an honest man here to +receive him into his house one night until the morning. In +the middle of the night he got up, and with his brother, who was +with him, killed every person in the house and then plundered it; +two days after, he was taken; his brother died in prison; I gave +him a little money, and the gentleman who was with me gave him +some good advice; he looked most like a wild beast, a huge mantle +of skin covered his body; for nine months he had not seen the +daylight; but now he is brought out into a nice clean apartment, +and allowed to have everything he asks for, meat, wine, +tobacco—nothing is refused him during these last three +days. I cannot help thinking that it is a great cruelty to +keep people so long in so horrid a situation; it is two years +nearly since he has been condemned. Do not be anxious if +you do not hear from me regularly for some time. There is +no escort post in the countries to which I am going. God +bless my mother, yourself, and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Hermanstadt</span>, <i>July</i> 30, 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—I write +to you a line or two from this place; it is close upon the +frontier of Wallachia. I hope to be in Bucharest in a few +days—I have stopped here for a day owing to some difficulty +in getting horses—I shall hasten onward as quick as +possible. In Bucharest there is an English Consul, so that +I shall feel more at home than I do here. I am only a few +miles now from the termination of the Austrian dominions, their +extent is enormous, the whole length of Hungary and Transylvania; +I shall only stay a few days in Bucharest and shall then dash off +straight for Constantinople; I have no time to lose as there is a +high ridge of mountains to cross called the Balkans, where the +winter commences at the beginning of September. I thought +you would be glad to hear from me, on which account I +write. I sent off a letter about a week ago from +Klausenburg, which I hope you will receive. I have written +various times from Hungary, though whether the letters have +reached you is more than I can say. I wrote to Woodfall <a +name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 177</span>from +Debreczen. I have often told you how glad I shall be to get +home and see you again. If I have tarried, it has only been +because I wished to see and learn as much as I could, for it was +no use coming to such a distance for nothing. By the time I +return I shall have made a most enormous journey, such as very +few have made. The place from which I write is very +romantic, being situated at the foot of a ridge of enormous +mountains which extend to the clouds, they look higher than the +Pyrenees. My health, thank God, is very good. I +bathed to-day and feel all the better for it; I hope you are +getting on well, and that all our dear family is +comfortable. I hope my dear mother is well. Oh, it is +so pleasant to hope that I am still not alone in the world, and +that there are those who love and care for me and pray for +me. I shall be very glad to get to Constantinople, as from +there there is no difficulty; and a great part of the way to +Russia is by sea, and when I am in Russia I am almost at +home. I shall write to you again from Bucharest if it +please God. It is not much more than eighty miles from +here, but the way lies over mountains, so that the journey will +take three or four days. We travel here in tilted carts +drawn by ponies; the carts are without springs, so that one is +terribly shaken. It is, however, very healthy, especially +when one has a strong constitution. The carts are chiefly +made of sticks and wickerwork; they are, of course, very slight, +and indeed if they were not so they would soon go to pieces owing +to the jolting. I read your little book every morning; it +is true that I am sometimes wrong with respect to the date, but I +soon get right again; oh, I shall be so glad to see you and my +mother and old Hen. and Lucy and the whole dear circle. I +hope Crups is well, and the horse. Oh, I shall be so glad +to come back. God bless you, my heart’s darling, and +dear Hen.; kiss her for me, and my mother.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Bucharest</span>, <i>August</i> 5, 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—I write +you a few lines from the house of the Consul, Mr. Colquhoun, to +inform you that I arrived at Bucharest quite safe: the post +leaves to-day, and Mr. C. has kindly permitted me to send a note +along with the official despatches. I am quite well, thank +God, but I thought you would like to hear from me. +Bucharest is in the province of Wallachia and close upon the +Turkish frontier. I shall remain here a week or two as I +find the place a very interesting one; then I shall proceed to +Constantinople. I wrote to you from Hermanstadt last week +and the week previous from Clausenburgh, and before I leave I +shall write again, and not so briefly as now. I have +experienced every possible attention from Mr. C., who is a very +delightful person, and indeed everybody is <a +name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 178</span>very kind +and attentive. I hope sincerely that you and Hen. are quite +well and happy, and also my dear mother. God bless you, +dearest.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Bucharest</span>, <i>August</i> 14, 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Carreta</span>,—To-morrow +or the next day I leave Bucharest for Constantinople. I +wrote to you on my arrival a few days ago, and promise to write +again before my departure. I shall not be sorry to get to +Constantinople, as from thence I can go wherever I think proper +without any difficulty. Since I have been here, Mr. +Colquhoun, the British Consul-General, has shown me every +civility, and upon the whole I have not passed the time +disagreeably. I have been chiefly occupied of late in +rubbing up my Turkish a little, which I had almost forgotten; +there was a time when I wrote it better than any other +language. It is coming again rapidly, and I make no doubt +that in a little time I should speak it almost as well as +Spanish, for I understand the groundwork. In Hungary and +Germany I picked up some curious books, which will help to pass +the time at home when I have nothing better to do. It is a +long way from here to Constantinople, and it is probable that I +shall be fifteen or sixteen days on the journey, as I do not +intend to travel very fast. It is possible that I shall +stay a day or two at Adrianople, which is half way. If you +should not hear from me for some time don’t be alarmed, as +it is possible that I shall have no opportunities of writing till +I get to Constantinople. Bucharest, where I am now, is +close on the Turkish frontier, being only half a day’s +journey. Since I have been here, I have bought a Tartar +dress and a couple of Turkish shirts. I have done so in +order not to be stared at as I pass along. It is very +beautiful and by no means dear. Yesterday I wrote to +M. Since I have been here I have seen some English +newspapers, and see that chap H. has got in with M. Perhaps +his recommendation was that he had once insulted us. +However, God only knows. I think I had never much +confidence in M. I can read countenances as you know, and +have always believed him to be selfish and insincere. I, +however, care nothing about him, and will not allow, D.V., any +conduct of his to disturb me. I shall be glad to get home, +and if I can but settle down a little, I feel that I can +accomplish something great. I hope that my dear mother is +well, and that you are all well. God bless you. It is +something to think that since I have been away I have to a +certain extent accomplished what I went about. I am +stronger and better and hardier, my cough has left me, there is +only occasionally a little huskiness in the throat. I have +also increased my stock of languages, and my imagination is +brightened. Bucharest is a strange place with much grandeur +and much filth. Since I have been here I have dined almost +<a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 179</span>every +day with Mr. C., who wants me to have an apartment in his +house. I thought it, however, better to be at an inn, +though filthy. I have also dined once at the Russian +Consul-General’s, whom I knew in Russia. Now God +bless you my heart’s darling; kiss also Hen., write to my +mother, and remember me to all friends.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The best letter that I have of this journey, and indeed the +best letter of Borrow’s that I have read, is one from +Constantinople to his wife—the only letter by him from that +city:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Constantinople</span>, 16<i>th</i> <i>September</i> +1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My darling Carreta</span>,—I am +about to leave Constantinople and to return home. I have +given up the idea of going to Russia; I find that if I go to +Odessa I shall have to remain in quarantine for fourteen days, +which I have no inclination to do; I am, moreover, anxious to get +home, being quite tired of wandering, and desirous of being once +more with my loved ones. This is a most interesting place, +but unfortunately it is extremely dear. The Turks have no +inns, and I am here at an English one, at which, though +everything is comfortable, the prices are very high. To-day +is Monday, and next Friday I purpose starting for Salonica in a +steamboat—Salonica is in Albania. I shall then cross +Albania, a journey of about three hundred miles, and get to +Corfu, from which I can either get to England across Italy and +down the Rhine, or by way of Marseilles and across France. +I shall not make any stay in Italy if I go there, as I have +nothing to see there. I shall be so glad to be at home with +you once again, and to see my dear mother and Hen. Tell +Hen. that I picked up for her in one of the bazaars a curious +Armenian coin; it is silver, small, but thick, with a most +curious inscription upon it. I gave fifteen piastres for +it. I hope it and the rest will get safe to England. +I have bought a chest, which I intend to send by sea, and I have +picked up a great many books and other things, and I wish to +travel light; I shall, therefore, only take a bag with a few +clothes and shirts. It is possible that I shall be at home +soon after your receiving this, or at most three weeks +after. I hope to write to you again from Corfu, which is a +British island with a British garrison in it, like Gibraltar; the +English newspapers came last week. I see those wretched +French cannot let us alone, they want to go to war; well, let +them; they richly deserve a good drubbing. The people here +are very kind in their way, but home is home, especially such a +one as mine, with true hearts to welcome me. Oh, I was so +glad to get your letters; they were rather of a distant date, it +is true, but they <a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>quite revived me. I hope you are all well, and my +dear mother. Since I have been here I have written to Mr. +Lord. I was glad to hear that he has written to Hen. +I hope Lucy is well; pray remember me most kindly to her, and +tell her that I hope to see her soon. I count so of getting +into my summer-house again, and sitting down to write; I have +arranged my book in my mind, and though it will take me a great +deal of trouble to write it, I feel that when it is written it +will be first-rate. My journey, with God’s help, has +done me a great deal of good. I am stronger than I was, and +I can now sleep. I intend to draw on England for forty or +fifty pounds; if I don’t want the whole of it, it will be +all the same. I have still some money left, but I have no +wish to be stopped on my journey for want of it. I am sorry +about what you told me respecting the railway, sorry that the old +coach is driven off the road. I shall patronise it as +little as possible, but stick to the old route and Thurton +George. What a number of poor people will these railroads +deprive of their bread. I am grieved at what you say about +poor M.; he can take her into custody, however, and oblige her to +support the children; such is law, though the property may have +been secured to her, she can be compelled to do that. Tell +Hen. that there is a mosque here, called the mosque of Sultan +Bajazet; it is full of sacred pigeons; there is a corner of the +court to which the creatures flock to be fed, like bees, by +hundreds and thousands; they are not at all afraid, as they are +never killed. Every place where they can roost is covered +with them, their impudence is great; they sprang originally from +two pigeons brought from Asia by the Emperor of +Constantinople. They are of a deep blue. God bless +you, dearest.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He returned home by way of Venice and Rome as the following +two letters indicate:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Venice</span>, +22<i>nd</i> <i>Octr.</i> 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—I arrived +this day at Venice, and though I am exceedingly tired I hasten to +write a line to inform you of my well-being. I am now +making for home as fast as possible, and I have now nothing to +detain me. Since I wrote to you last I have been again in +quarantine for two days and a half at Trieste, but I am glad to +say that I shall no longer be detained on that account. I +was obliged to go to Trieste, though it was much out of my way, +otherwise I must have remained I know not how long in Corfu, +waiting for a direct conveyance. After my liberation I only +stopped a day at Corfu in order that I might lose no more time, +though I really wished to tarry there a little longer, the people +were so kind. On the <a name="page181"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 181</span>day of my liberation, I had four +invitations to dinner from the officers. I, however, made +the most of my time, and escorted by one Captain Northcott, of +the Rifles, went over the fortifications, which are most +magnificent. I saw everything that I well could, and shall +never forget the kindness with which I was treated. The +next day I went to Trieste in a steamer, down the whole length of +the Adriatic. I was horribly unwell, for the Adriatic is a +bad sea, and very dangerous; the weather was also very rough; +after stopping at Trieste a day, besides the quarantine, I left +for Venice, and here I am, and hope to be on my route again the +day after to-morrow. I shall now hurry through Italy by way +of Ancona, Rome, and Civita Vecchia to Marseilles in France and +from Marseilles to London, in not more than six days’ +journey. Oh, I shall be so glad to get back to you and my +mother (I hope she is alive and well) and Hen. I am glad to +hear that we are not to have war with those silly people, the +French. The idea made me very uneasy, for I thought how +near Oulton lay to the coast. You cannot imagine what a +magnificent old town Venice is; it is clearly the finest in +Italy, although in decay; it stands upon islands in the sea, and +in many places is intersected with canals. The Grand Canal +is four miles long, lined with palaces on either side. I, +however, shall be glad to leave it, for there is no place to me +like Oulton, where live two of my dear ones. I have told +you that I am very tired, so that I cannot write much more, and I +am presently going to bed, but I am sure that you will be glad to +hear from me, however little I may write. I think I told +you in my last letter that I had been to the top of Mount Olympus +in Thessaly. Tell Hen. that I saw a whole herd of wild deer +bounding down the cliffs, the noise they made was like thunder; I +also saw an enormous eagle—one of Jupiter’s birds, +his real eagles, for, according to the Grecian mythology, Olympus +was his favourite haunt. I don’t know what it was +then, but at present the most wild savage place I ever saw; an +immense way up I came to a forest of pines; half of them were +broken by thunderbolts, snapped in the middle, and the ruins +lying around in the most hideous confusion; some had been blasted +from top to bottom and stood naked, black, and charred, in +indescribable horridness; Jupiter was the god of thunder, and he +still seems to haunt Olympus. The worst is there is little +water, so that a person might almost perish there of thirst; the +snow-water, however, when it runs into the hollows is the most +delicious beverage ever tasted—the snow, however, is very +high up. My next letter, I hope, will be from Marseilles, +and I hope to be there in a very few days. Now, God bless +you, my dearest; write to my mother, and kiss Hen., and remember +me kindly to Lucy and the Atkinses.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 182</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Rome</span>, 1 +<i>Nov.</i> 1844.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Carreta</span>,—My last +letter was from Ancona; the present is, as you see, from +Rome. From Ancona I likewise wrote to Woodfall requesting +he would send a letter of credit for twelve or fifteen pounds, +directing to the care of the British Consul at Marseilles. +I hope you received your letter and that he received his, as by +the time I get to Marseilles I shall be in want of money by +reason of the roundabout way I have been obliged to come. I +am quite well, thank God, and hope to leave here in a day or +two. It is close by the sea, and France is close by, but I +am afraid I shall be obliged to wait some days at Marseilles +before I shall get the letter, as the post goes direct from no +part of Italy, though it is not more than six days’ +journey, or seven at most, from Ancona to London. It was +that wretched quarantine at Corfu that has been the cause of all +this delay, as it caused me to lose the passage by the steamer +[original torn here] Ancona, which forced me to go round by +Trieste and Venice, five hundred miles out of my way, at a +considerable expense. Oh, I shall be so glad to get +home. As I told you before, I am quite well; indeed, in +better health than I have been for years, but it is very +vexatious to be stopped in the manner I have been. God +bless you, my darling. Write to my mother and kiss her,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +183</span>CHAPTER XXIV<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lavengro</span></h2> +<p><i>The Bible in Spain</i> bears on its title-page the date +1843. In the intervening eight or nine years he had +travelled much—suffered much. During all these years +he had been thinking about, talking about, his next book, making +no secret of the fact that it was to be an Autobiography. +Even before <i>The Bible in Spain</i> was issued he had written +to Mr. John Murray foreshadowing a book in which his father, +William Taylor, and others were to put in an appearance. In +the “Advertisement” to <i>The Romany Rye</i> he tells +us that “the principal part of <i>Lavengro</i> was written +in the year ’43, that the whole of it was completed before +the termination of the year ’46, and that it was in the +hands of the publisher in the year ’48.” As the +idea grew in his mind, his friend, Richard Ford, gave him much +sound advice:</p> +<blockquote><p>Never mind nimminy-pimminy people thinking +subjects <i>low</i>. Things are low in manner of +handling. Draw Nature in rags and poverty, yet draw her +truly, and how picturesque! I hate your silver fork, kid +glove, curly-haired school.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And so in the following years, now to Ford, now to Murray, he +traces his progress, while in 1844 he tells Dawson Turner that he +is “at present engaged in a kind of Biography in the +Robinson Crusoe style.” But in the same year he went +to Buda-Pesth, Venice, and Constantinople. The first +advertisement of the book appeared in <i>The Quarterly Review</i> +in July, 1848, when <i>Lavengro</i>, <i>An Autobiography</i>, was +announced. Later in the same year Mr. Murray advertised the +book as <i>Life</i>, <i>A Drama</i>, and Dr. Knapp, who had in +his collection the original proof-sheets of <i>Lavengro</i>, +reproduced the title-page of the book which then stood as +<i>Life</i>, <i>A Drama</i>, and bore the date 1849. +Borrow’s procrastination in delivering the complete book +worried John Murray exceedingly. Not unnaturally, for in +1848 he had offered the book at his annual sale dinner to the +booksellers who had <a name="page184"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 184</span>subscribed to it liberally. +Eighteen months later Murray was still worrying Borrow for the +return of the proof-sheets of the third and last volume. +Not until January, 1850, do we hear of it as <i>Lavengro</i>, +<i>An Autobiography</i>, and under this title it was advertised +in <i>The Quarterly Review</i> for that month as “nearly +ready for publication.” In April, 1850, we find +Woodfall, John Murray’s printer, writing letter after +letter urging celerity, to which Mrs. Borrow replies, excusing +the delay on account of her husband’s indifferent +health. They have been together in lodgings at +Yarmouth. “He had many plunges into the briny Ocean, +which seemed to do him good.” Murray continued to +exhort, but the final chapter did not reach him. “My +sale is fixed for December 12th,” he writes in November, +“and if I cannot show the book then I must throw it +up.” This threat had little effect, for on 13th +December we find Murray still coaxing his dilatory author, +telling him with justice that there were passages in his book +“equal to Defoe.” The very printer, Mr. +Woodfall, joined in the chase. “The public is quite +prepared to devour your book,” he wrote, which was +unhappily not the case. Nor was Ford a happier prophet, +although a true friend when he wrote—“I am sure it +will be <i>the</i> book of the year when it is brought +forth.” The activity of Mrs. Borrow in this matter of +the publication of <i>Lavengro</i> is interesting. +“My husband . . . is, I assure you, doing all he can as +regards the completion of the book,” she writes to Mr. +Murray in December, 1849, and in November of the following year +Murray writes to her to say that he is engraving Phillips’s +portrait of Borrow for the book. “I think a cheering +letter from you will do Mr. Borrow good,” she writes +later. Throughout the whole correspondence between +publisher and printer we are impressed by Mrs. Borrow’s +keen interest in her husband’s book, her anxiety that he +should be humoured. Sadly did Borrow need to be humoured, +for if he had cherished the illusion that his book would really +be the “Book of the Year” he was to suffer a cruel +disillusion. Scarcely any one wanted it. All the +critics abused it. In <i>The Athenæum</i> it was +bluntly pronounced a failure. “The story of +<i>Lavengro</i> will content no one,” said Sir William +Stirling-Maxwell in <i>Fraser’s Magazine</i>. The +book “will add but little to Mr. Borrow’s +reputation,” said <i>Blackwood</i>. The only real +insight <a name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +185</span>into the book’s significance was provided by +Thomas Gordon Hake in a letter to <i>The New Monthly Review</i>, +in which journal the editor, Harrison Ainsworth, had already +pronounced a not very favourable opinion. +“<i>Lavengro’s</i> roots will strike deep into the +soil of English letters,” wrote Dr. Hake, and he then +pronounced a verdict now universally accepted. George Henry +Lewes once happily remarked that he would make an appreciation of +Boswell’s <i>Life of Johnson</i> a test of +friendship. Many of us would be almost equally inclined to +make such a test of Borrow’s <i>Lavengro</i>. +Tennyson declared that an enthusiasm for Milton’s +<i>Lycidas</i> was a touchstone of taste in poetry. May we +not say that an enthusiasm for Borrow’s <i>Lavengro</i> is +now a touchstone of taste in English prose literature?</p> +<p>But the reception of <i>Lavengro</i> by the critics, and also +by the public, may be said to have destroyed Borrow’s moral +fibre. Henceforth, it was a soured and disappointed man who +went forth to meet the world. We hear much in the gossip of +contemporaries of Borrow’s eccentricities, it may be of his +rudeness and gruffness, in the last years of his life. Only +those who can realise the personality of a self-contained man, +conscious, as all genius has ever been, of its achievement, and +conscious also of the failure of the world to recognise, will +understand—and will sympathise.</p> +<p>Borrow, as we have seen, took many years to write +<i>Lavengro</i>. “I am writing the work,” he +told Dawson Turner, “in precisely the same manner as <i>The +Bible in Spain</i>, viz., on blank sheets of old account-books, +backs of letters, etc.,” and he recalls Mahomet writing the +Koran on mutton bones as an analogy to his own +“slovenliness of manuscript.” I have had plenty +of opportunity of testing this slovenliness in the collection of +manuscripts of portions of <i>Lavengro</i> that have come into my +possession. These are written upon pieces of paper of all +shapes and sizes, although at least a third of the book in +Borrow’s very neat handwriting is contained in a leather +notebook, of which I give examples of the title-page and opening +leaf in facsimile. The title-page demonstrates the earliest +form of Borrow’s conception. Not only did he then +contemplate an undisguised autobiography, but even described +himself, as he frequently did in his conversation, as “a +Norfolk man.” Before the book was finished, however, +he repudiated the autobiographical <a name="page186"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 186</span>note, and by the time he sat down to +write <i>The Romany Rye</i> we find him fiercely denouncing his +critics for coming to such a conclusion. “The +writer,” he declares, “never said it was an +autobiography; never authorised any person to say it was +one.” Which was doubtless true, in a measure. +Yet I find among my Borrow Papers the following letter from +Whitwell Elwin, who, writing from Booton Rectory on 21st October, +1853, and addressing him as “My dear Mr. Borrow,” +said:</p> +<blockquote><p>I hoped to have been able to call upon you at +Yarmouth, but a heavy cold first, and now occupation, have +interfered with my intentions. I daresay you have seen the +mention made of your <i>Lavengro</i> in the article on Haydon in +the current number of <i>The Quarterly Review</i>, and I thought +you might like to know that every syllable, both comment and +extract, was inserted by the writer (a man little given to +praise) of his own <i>accord</i>. Murray sent him your +book, and that was all. No addition or modification was +made by myself, and it is therefore the unbiassed judgment of a +<i>very critical</i> reviewer. Whenever you appear again +before the public I shall endeavour to do ample justice to your +past and present merits, and there is one point in which you +could aid those who understand you and your books in bringing +over general readers to your side. I was myself acquainted +with many of the persons you have sketched in your +<i>Lavengro</i>, and I can testify to the extraordinary vividness +and accuracy of the portraits. What I have seen, again, of +yourself tells me that romantic adventures are your natural +element, and I should <i>a priori</i> expect that much of your +history would be stranger than fiction. But you must +remember that the bulk of readers have no personal acquaintance +with you, or the characters you describe. The consequence +is that they fancy there is an immensity of romance mixed up with +the facts, and they are irritated by the inability to distinguish +between them. I am confident, from all I have heard, that +this was the source of the comparatively cold reception of +<i>Lavengro</i>. I should have partaken the feeling myself +if I had not had the means of testing the fidelity of many +portions of the book, from which I inferred the equal fidelity of +the rest. I think you have the remedy in your own hands, +viz., by giving the utmost possible matter-of-fact air to your +sequel. I do not mean that you are to tame down the truth, +but some ways of narrating a story make it seem more credible +than others, and if you were so far to defer to the ignorance of +the public they would enter into the full spirit of your rich and +racy narrative. You naturally look at your life from your +own point of view, and this in itself is the best; but when you +publish a book you invite the reader to participate in the events +of your career, and it is necessary then to look a little at +things <a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +187</span>from <i>his</i> point of view. As he has not your +knowledge you must stoop to him. I throw this out for your +consideration. My sole wish is that the public should have +a right estimate of you, and surely you ought to do what is in +your power to help them to it. I know you will excuse the +liberty I take in offering this crude suggestion. Take it +for what it is worth, but anyhow . . .</p> +</blockquote> +<p>To this letter, as we learn from Elwin’s <i>Life</i>, +“instead of roaring like a lion,” as Elwin had +expected, he returned quite a “lamb-like note.”</p> +<p>Read by the light in which we all judge the book to-day, this +estimate by Elwin was about as fatuous as most contemporary +criticisms of a masterpiece. Which is only to say that it +is rarely given to contemporary critics to judge accurately of +the great work that comes to them amid a mass that is not +great. That Elwin, although not a good editor of Pope, was +a sound critic of the literature of a period anterior to his own +is demonstrated by the admirable essays from his pen that have +been reprinted with an excellent memoir of him by his son. +In this memoir we have a capital glimpse of our hero:</p> +<blockquote><p>Among the notables whom he had met was Borrow, +whose <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>Romany Rye</i> he afterwards +reviewed in 1857 under the title of “Roving Life in +England.” Their interview was characteristic of +both. Borrow was just then very sore with his snarling +critics, and on some one mentioning that Elwin was a +<i>quartering</i> reviewer, he said, “Sir, I wish you a +better employment.” Then hastily changing the subject +he called out, “What party are <i>you</i> in the +Church—Tractarian, Moderate, or Evangelical? I am +happy to say I am the old <i>High</i>.” “I am +happy to say I am <i>not</i>,” was Elwin’s emphatic +reply. Borrow boasted of his proficiency in the Norfolk +dialect, which he endeavoured to speak as broadly as +possible. “I told him,” said Elwin, “that +he had not cultivated it with his usual success.” As +the conversation proceeded it became less disputatious, and the +two ended by becoming so cordial that they promised to visit each +other. Borrow fulfilled his promise in the following +October, when he went to Booton, and was “full of anecdote +and reminiscence,” and delighted the rectory children by +singing them songs in the gypsy tongue. Elwin during this +visit urged him to try his hand at an article for the +<i>Review</i>. “Never,” he said; “I have +made a resolution never to have anything to do with such a +blackguard trade.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>While writing of Whitwell Elwin and his association with +Borrow, which was sometimes rather strained as we <a +name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 188</span>shall see +when <i>The Romany Rye</i> comes to be published, it is +interesting to turn to Elwin’s final impression of Borrow, +as conveyed in a letter which the recipient has kindly placed at +my disposal. It was written from Booton Rectory, and is +dated 27th October, 1893:</p> +<blockquote><p>I used occasionally to meet Borrow at the house of +Mr. Murray, his publisher, and he once stayed with me here for +two or three days about 1855. He always seemed to me quite +at ease “among refined people,” and I should not have +ascribed his dogmatic tone, when he adopted it, to his resentment +at finding himself out of keeping with his society. A +spirit of self-assertion was engrained in him, and it was +supported by a combative temperament. As he was proud of +his bodily prowess, and rather given to parade it, so he took the +same view of an argument as of a battle with fists, and thought +that manliness required him to be determined and +unflinching. But this, in my experience of him, was not his +ordinary manner, which was calm and companionable, without +rudeness of any kind, unless some difference occurred to provoke +his pugnacity. I have witnessed instances of his care to +avoid wounding feelings needlessly. He never kept back his +opinions which, on some points, were shallow and even absurd; and +when his antagonist was as persistently positive as himself, he +was apt to be over vehement in contradiction. I have heard +Mr. Murray say that once in a dispute with Dr. Whewell at a +dinner the language on both sides grew so fiery that Mrs. Whewell +fainted.</p> +<p>He told me that his composition cost him a vast amount of +labour, that his first draughts were diffuse and crude, and that +he wrote his productions several times before he had condensed +and polished them to his mind. There is nothing choicer in +the English language than some of his narratives, descriptions, +and sketches of character, but in his best books he did not +always prune sufficiently, and in his last work, <i>Wild +Wales</i>, he seemed to me to have lost the faculty +altogether. Mr. Murray long refused to publish it unless it +was curtailed, and Borrow, with his usual self-will and +self-confidence, refused to retrench the trivialities. +Either he got his own way in the end, or he revised his +manuscript to little purpose.</p> +<p>Probably most of what there was to tell of Borrow has been +related by himself. It is a disadvantage in <i>Lavengro</i> +and <i>Romany Rye</i> that we cannot with certainty separate fact +from fiction, for he avowed in talk that, like Goethe, he had +assumed the right in the interests of his autobiographical +narrative to embellish it in places; but the main outline, and +larger part of the details, are the genuine record of what he had +seen and done, and I can testify that some of his minor +personages who were known to me in my boyhood are described with +perfect accuracy.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Two letters by Mr. Elwin to Borrow, from my Borrow <a +name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 189</span>Papers, +both dated 1853—two years after <i>Lavengro</i> was +written—may well have place here:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Booton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, <i>Oct.</i> 26, 1853.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Borrow</span>,—I shall +be rejoiced to see you here, and I hope you will fasten a little +luggage to the bow of your saddle, and spend as much time under +my roof as you can spare. I am always at home. Mrs. +Elwin is sure to be in the house or garden, and I, at the worst, +not further off than the extreme boundary of my parish. +Pray come and that quickly. Your shortest road from Norwich +is through Horsford, and from thence to the park wall of +Haverland Hall, which you skirt. This will bring you out by +a small wayside public house, well known in these parts, called +“The Rat-catchers.” At this point you turn +sharp to the left, and keep the straight road till you come to a +church with a new red brick house adjoining, which is your +journey’s end.</p> +<p>The conclusion of your note to me is so true in sentiment, and +so admirable in expression, that I hope you will introduce it +into your next work. I wish it had been said in the article +on Haydon. Cannot you strew such criticisms through the +sequel to <i>Lavengro</i>? They would give additional charm +and value to the work. Believe me, very truly yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">W. +Elwin</span>.</p> +<p>You are of course aware that if <i>I</i> had spoken of +<i>Lavengro</i> in the <i>Q. R.</i> I should have said much more, +but as I hoped for my turn hereafter, I preferred to let the +passage go forth unadulterated.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Booton +Rectory</span>, <span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, <i>Nov.</i> +5, 1853.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Borrow</span>,—You bore +your mishap with a philosophic patience, and started with an +energy which gives the best earnest that you would arrive safe +and sound at Norwich.</p> +<p>I was happy to find yesterday morning, by the arrival of your +kind present, a sure notification that you were well home.</p> +<p>Many thanks for the tea, which we drink with great zest and +diligence. My legs are not as long as yours, nor my breath +either. You soon made me feel that I must either turn back +or be left behind, so I chose the former. Mrs. Elwin and my +children desire their kind regards. They one and all +enjoyed your visit. Believe me, very truly yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">W. +Elwin</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I have said that I possess large portions of <i>Lavengro</i> +in manuscript. Borrow’s always helpful wife, however, +copied <a name="page190"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +190</span>out the whole manuscript for the publishers, and this +“clean copy” came to Dr. Knapp, who found even here a +few pages of very valuable writing deleted, and these he has very +rightly restored in Mr. Murray’s edition of +<i>Lavengro</i>. Why Borrow took so much pains to explain +that his wife had copied <i>Lavengro</i>, as the following +document implies, I cannot think. I find in his handwriting +this scrap of paper signed by Mary Borrow, and witnessed by her +daughter:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><i>Janry.</i> 30, +1869,</p> +<p>This is to certify that I transcribed <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>, <i>Lavengro</i>, and some other works of my husband +George Borrow, from the original manuscripts. A +considerable portion of the transcript of <i>Lavengro</i> was +lost at the printing-office where the work was printed.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Mary +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Witness: Henrietta M., daughter of Mary Borrow.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It only remains here to state the melancholy fact once again +that <i>Lavengro</i>, great work of literature as it is now +universally acknowledged to be, was not “the book of the +year.” The three thousand copies of the first issue +took more than twenty years to sell, and it was not until 1872 +that Mr. Murray resolved to issue a cheaper edition. The +time was not ripe for the cult of the open road, the zest for +“the wind on the heath” that our age shares so +keenly.</p> +<h2><a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +191</span>CHAPTER XXV<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Visit to Cornish Kinsmen</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> Borrow had been a normal man of +letters he would have been quite satisfied to settle down at +Oulton, in a comfortable home, with a devoted wife. The +question of money was no longer to worry him. He had +moreover a money-making gift, which made him independent in a +measure of his wife’s fortune. From <i>The Bible in +Spain</i> he must have drawn a very considerable amount, +considerable, that is, for a man whose habits were always +somewhat penurious. <i>The Bible in Spain</i> would have +been followed up, were Borrow a quite other kind of man, by a +succession of books almost equally remunerative. Even for +one so prone to hate both books and bookmen there was always the +wind on the heath, the gypsy encampment, the now famous +“broad,” not then the haunt of innumerable +trippers. But Borrow ever loved wandering more than +writing. Almost immediately after his marriage—in +1840—he hinted to the Bible Society of a journey to China; +a year later, in June, 1841, he suggested to Lord Clarendon that +Lord Palmerston might give him a consulship: he consulted Hasfeld +as to a possible livelihood in Berlin, and Ford as to travel in +Africa. He seems to have endured residence at Oulton with +difficulty during the succeeding three years, and in 1844 we find +him engaged upon the continental travel that we have already +recorded. In 1847 he had hopes of the consulship at Canton, +but Bowring wanted it for himself, and a misunderstanding over +this led to an inevitable break of old friendship. +Borrow’s passionate love of travel was never more to be +gratified at the expense of others. He tried, indeed, to +secure a journey to the East from the British Museum Trustees, +and then gave up the struggle. Further wanderings, which +were many, were to be confined to Europe and indeed to England, +Scotland, Ireland, and the Isle of Man. His first journey, +however, was not at his own initiative. Mrs. Borrow’s +health was unequal to the severe <a name="page192"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 192</span>winters at Oulton, and so the +Borrows made their home at Yarmouth from 1853 to 1860. +During these years he gave his vagabond propensities full +play. No year passed without its record of wandering. +His first expedition was the outcome of a burst of notoriety that +seems to have done for Borrow what the success of his <i>Bible in +Spain</i> could not do—reveal his identity to his Cornish +relations. The <i>Bury Post</i> of 17th September, 1853, +recorded that Borrow had at the risk of his life saved at least +one member of a boat’s crew wrecked on the coast at +Yarmouth:</p> +<blockquote><p>The moment was an awful one, when George Borrow, +the well-known author of <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>, dashed into the surf and saved one life, and through +his instrumentality the others were saved. We ourselves +have known this brave and gifted man for years, and, daring as +was his deed, we have known him more than once to risk his life +for others. We are happy to add that he has sustained no +material injury.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This paragraph in the Bury St. Edmunds newspaper was copied +into the <i>Plymouth Mail</i>, and was there read by the Borrows +of Cornwall, who had heard nothing of their relative, Thomas +Borrow the army captain, and his family for fifty years or +more. One of Borrow’s cousins by marriage, Robert +Taylor of Penquite, invited him to his father’s homeland, +and Borrow accepted, glad, we may be sure, of any excuse for a +renewal of his wanderings. And so on the 23rd of December, +1853, Borrow made his way from Yarmouth to Plymouth by rail, and +thence walked twenty miles to Liskeard, where quite a little +party of Borrow’s cousins were present to greet him. +The Borrow family consisted of Henry Borrow of Looe Down, the +father of Mrs. Taylor, William Borrow of Trethinnick, Thomas +Nicholas and Elizabeth Borrow, all first cousins, except Anne +Taylor. Anne, talking to a friend, describes Borrow on this +visit better than any one else has done:</p> +<blockquote><p>A fine tall man of about six feet three; +well-proportioned and not stout; able to walk five miles an hour +successively; rather florid face without any hirsute appendages; +hair white and soft; eyes and eyebrows dark; good nose and very +nice mouth; well-shaped hands;—altogether a person you +would notice in a crowd.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow stayed at Penquite with his cousins from 24th <a +name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 193</span>December to +9th January, then he went on a walking tour to Land’s End, +through Truro and Penzance; he was back at Penquite from 26th +January to 1st February, and then took a week’s tramp to +Tintagel, King Arthur’s Castle, and Pentire. +Naturally he made inquiries into the language, already extinct, +but spoken within the memory of the older inhabitants. +“My relations are most excellent people,” he wrote to +his wife from London on his way back, “but I could not +understand more than half of what they said.”</p> +<p>I have only one letter to Mrs. Borrow written during this +tour:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Penquite</span>, +27<i>th</i> <i>Janry.</i> 1854.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—I just write +you a line to inform you that I have got back safe here from the +Land’s End. I have received your two letters, and +hope you received mine from the Land’s End. It is +probable that I shall yet visit one or two places before I leave +Cornwall. I am very much pleased with the country. +When you receive this if you please write a line <i>by return of +post</i> I think you may; the Trethinnick people wish me to stay +with them for a day or two. When you see the Cobbs pray +remember me to them; I am sorry Horace has lost his aunt, he will +<i>miss her</i>. Love to Hen. Ever yours, +dearest,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>(Keep this.)</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was the failure of <i>The Romany Rye</i> that prevented +Borrow from writing the Cornish book that he had caused to be +advertised in the flyleaf of that work. Borrow would have +made a beautiful book upon Cornwall. Even the title, +<i>Penquite and Pentyre</i>; <i>or</i>, <i>The Head of the Forest +and the Headland</i>, has music in it. And he had in these +twenty weeks made himself wonderfully well acquainted not only +with the topography of the principality, but with its folklore +and legend. The gulf that ever separated the Borrow of the +notebook and the unprepared letter from the Borrow of the +finished manuscript was extraordinary, and we may deplore with +Mr. Walling the absence of this among Borrow’s many +unwritten books.</p> +<p>Borrow was back in Yarmouth at the end of February, +1854—he had not fled the country as Dalrymple had <a +name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +194</span>suggested—but in July he was off again for his +great tour in Wales, in which he was accompanied by his wife and +daughter. Of that tour we must treat in another and later +chapter, for <i>Wild Wales</i> was not published until +1862. The year following his great tour in Wales he went on +a trip to the Isle of Man.</p> +<h2><a name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +195</span>CHAPTER XXVI<br /> +<span class="smcap">In the Isle of Man</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> holiday which Borrow gave +himself the year following his visit to Wales, that is to say, in +September, 1855, is recorded in his unpublished diaries. He +never wrote a book as the outcome of that journey, although he +caused one to be advertised under the title of <i>Bayr Jairgey +and Glion Doo</i>: <i>Wanderings in Search of Manx +Literature</i>. Borrow, it will be remembered, learnt the +Irish language as a mere child, much to his father’s +disgust. Although he never loved the Irish people, the +Celtic Irish, that is to say, whose genial temperament was so +opposed to his own, he did love the Irish language, which he more +than once declared had incited him to become a student of many +tongues. He never made the mistake into which so many have +fallen of calling it “Erse.” He was never an +accurate student of the Irish language, but among Englishmen he +led the way in the present-day interest in that tongue—an +interest which is now so pronounced among scholars of many +nationalities, and has made in Ireland so definite a revival of a +language that for a time seemed to be on the way to +extinction. Two translations from the Irish are to be found +in his <i>Targum</i> published so far back as 1835, and many +other translations from the Irish poets were among the +unpublished manuscripts that he left behind him. It would +therefore be with peculiar interest that he would visit the Isle +of Man which, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, was an +Irish-speaking land, but in 1855 was at a stage when the language +was falling fast into decay. What survived of it was still +Irish with trifling variations in the spelling of words. +“Cranu,” a tree, for example, had become +“Cwan,” and so on—although the pronunciation +was apparently much the same. When the tall, white-haired +Englishman talked to the older inhabitants who knew something of +the language they were delighted. <a +name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +196</span>“Mercy upon us,” said one old woman, +“I believe, sir, you are of the old Manx!” +Borrow was actually wandering in search of Manx literature, as +the title of the book that he announced implied. He +inquired about the old songs of the island, and of everything +that survived of its earlier language. Altogether Borrow +must have had a good time in thus following his favourite +pursuit.</p> +<p>But these stories are less human than a notebook in my +hands. This is a long leather pocket-book, in which, under +the title of “Expedition to the Isle of Man,” we +have, written in pencil, a quite vivacious account of his +adventures. It records that Borrow and his wife and +daughter set out through Bury to Peterborough, Rugby, and +Liverpool. It tells of the admiration with which +Peterborough’s “noble cathedral” inspired +him. Liverpool he calls a “London in +miniature”:</p> +<blockquote><p>Strolled about town with my wife and Henrietta; +wonderful docks and quays, where all the ships of the world +seemed to be gathered—all the commerce of the world to be +carried on; St. George’s Crescent; noble shops; strange +people walking about, an Herculean mulatto, for example; the old +china shop; cups with Chinese characters upon them; an horrible +old Irishwoman with naked feet; Assize Hall a noble edifice.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The party left Liverpool on 20th August, and Borrow, when in +sight of the Isle of Man, noticed a lofty ridge of mountains +rising to the clouds:</p> +<blockquote><p>Entered into conversation with two of the +crew—Manx sailors—about the Manx language; one, a +very tall man, said he knew only a very little of it as he was +born on the coast, but that his companion, who came from the +interior, knew it well; said it was a mere gibberish. This +I denied, and said it was an ancient language, and that it was +like the Irish; his companion, a shorter man, in shirt sleeves, +with a sharp, eager countenance, now opened his mouth and said I +was right, and said that I was the only gentleman whom he had +ever heard ask questions about the Manx language. I spoke +several Irish words which they understood.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>When he had landed he continued his investigations, asking +every peasant he met the Manx for this or that English word:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Are you Manx?” said I. +“Yes,” he replied, “I am Manx.” +“And what do you call a river in Manx?” +“A river,” he <a name="page197"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 197</span>replied. “Can you speak +Manx?” I demanded. “Yes,” he replied, +“I speak Manx.” “And you call a river a +river?” “Yes,” said he, “I +do.” “You don’t call it owen?” said +I. “I do not,” said he. I passed on, and +on the other side of the bridge went for some time along an +avenue of trees, passing by a stone water-mill, till I came to a +public-house on the left hand. Seeing a woman looking out +of the window, I asked her to what place the road led. +“To Castletown,” she replied. “And what +do you call the river in Manx?” said I. “We +call it an owen,” said she. “So I +thought,” I replied, and after a little further discourse +returned, as the night was now coming fast on.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One man whom Borrow asked if there were any poets in Man +replied that he did not believe there were, that the last Manx +poet had died some time ago at Kirk Conoshine, and this man had +translated Parnell’s <i>Hermit</i> beautifully, and the +translation had been printed. He inquired about the Runic +Stones, which he continually transcribed. Under date +Thursday, 30th August, we find the following:</p> +<blockquote><p>This day year I ascended Snowdon, and this +morning, which is very fine, I propose to start on an expedition +to Castletown and to return by Peel.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Very gladly would I follow Borrow more in detail through this +interesting holiday by means of his diary, <a +name="citation197"></a><a href="#footnote197" +class="citation">[197]</a> but it would make my book too +long. As he had his wife and daughter with him there are no +letters by him from the island.</p> +<p>Three years later we find that Borrow has not forgotten the +friends of that Manx holiday. This letter is from the Vicar +of Malew in acknowledgment of a copy of <i>The Romany Rye</i> +published in the interval:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Malew +Vicarage</span>, <span class="smcap">Ballasalla</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Isle of Man</span>, 27 <i>Jany.</i> 1859.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I return you my +most hearty thanks for your most handsome present of <i>Romany +Rye</i>, and no less handsome letter relative to your tour in the +Isle of Man and the literature of the Manx. Both I value +very highly, and from both I shall derive useful hints for my +introduction to the new edition of the <i>Manx Grammar</i>. +I hope you will have no objection <a name="page198"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 198</span>to my quoting a passage or two from +the advertisement of your forthcoming book; and if I receive no +intimation of your dissent, I shall take it for granted that I +have your kind permission. The whole notice is so apposite +to my purpose, and would be so interesting to every Manxman, that +I would fain insert the whole bodily, did the Author and the +limits of an Introduction permit. The <i>Grammar</i> will, +I think, go to press in March next. It is to be published +under the auspices of “The Manx Society,” instituted +last year “for the publication of National documents of the +Isle of Man.” As soon as it is printed I hope to beg +the favour of your acceptance of a copy.—I am, my dear Sir, +your deeply obliged humble servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">William +Gill</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +199</span>CHAPTER XXVII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Oulton Broad and Yarmouth</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">George Borrow</span> wandered far and +wide, but he always retraced his footsteps to East Anglia, of +which he was so justly proud. From his marriage in 1840 +until his death in 1881 he lived twenty-seven years at Oulton or +at Yarmouth. “It is on sand alone that the sea +strikes its true music,” Borrow once remarked, +“Norfolk sand”—and it was in the waves and on +the sands of the Norfolk coast that Borrow spent the happiest +hours of his restless life. Oulton Cottage is only about +two miles from Lowestoft, and so, walking or driving, these +places were quite near one another. But both are in +Suffolk. Was it because Yarmouth—ten miles +distant—is in Norfolk that it was always selected for +seaside residence? I suspect that the careful Mrs. Borrow +found a wider selection of “apartments” at a moderate +price. In any case the sea air of Yarmouth was good for his +wife, and the sea bathing was good for him, and so we find that +husband and wife had seven separate residences at Yarmouth during +the years of Oulton life. <a name="citation199"></a><a +href="#footnote199" class="citation">[199]</a> But Oulton +was ever to be Borrow’s headquarters, even though between +1860 and 1874 he had a house in London. Borrow was +thirty-seven years of age when he settled down at Oulton. +He was, he tells us in <i>The Romany Rye</i>, “in tolerably +easy circumstances and willing to take some rest after a life of +labour.” Their home was a cottage on the Broad, for +the Hall, which was also Mrs. Borrow’s property, was let on +lease to a farmer. The cottage, however, was an extremely +pleasant residence with a lawn running down to the river. A +more substantial house has been built on this site since +Borrow’s day. The summer-house is generally assumed +to be the same, but has <a name="page200"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 200</span>certainly been re-roofed since the +time when Henrietta Clarke drew the picture of it that is +reproduced in this book. Probably the whole summer-house is +new, but at any rate the present structure stands on the site of +the old one. Here Borrow did his work, wrote and wrote and +wrote, until he had, as he said, “mountains of +manuscripts.” Here first of all he completed <i>The +Zincali</i> (1841), commenced in Seville; then he wrote or rather +arranged <i>The Bible in Spain</i> (1843), and then at long +intervals, diversified by extensive travel holidays, he wrote +<i>Lavengro</i> (1851), <i>The Romany Rye</i> (1857), and <i>Wild +Wales</i> (1860)—these are the five books and their dates +that we most associate with Borrow’s sojourn at +Oulton. When <i>Wild Wales</i> was published he had removed +to London.</p> +<p>By far the best glimpses of Borrow during these years of +Suffolk life are those contained in a letter contributed by his +friend, Elizabeth Harvey, to <i>The Eastern Daily Press</i> of +Norwich over the initials “E. H.”:</p> +<blockquote><p>When I knew Mr. Borrow he lived in a lovely +cottage whose garden sloped down to the edge of Oulton +Broad. He had a wooden room built on the very margin of the +water, where he had many strange old books in various +languages. I remember he once put one before me, telling me +to read it. “Oh, I can’t,” I +replied. He said, “You ought, it’s your own +language.” It was an old Saxon book. He used to +spend a great deal of his time in this room writing, translating, +and at times singing strange words in a stentorian voice, while +passers-by on the lake would stop to listen with astonishment and +curiosity to the singular sounds. He was 6 feet 3 inches, a +splendid man, with handsome hands and feet. He wore neither +whiskers, beard, nor moustache. His features were very +handsome, but his eyes were peculiar, being round and rather +small, but very piercing, and now and then fierce. He would +sometimes sing one of his Romany songs, shake his fist at me and +look quite wild. Then he would ask, “Aren’t you +afraid of me?” “No, not at all,” I would +say. Then he would look just as gentle and kind, and say, +“God bless you, I would not hurt a hair of your +head.” He was an expert swimmer, and used to go out +bathing, and dive under water an immense time. On one +occasion he was bathing with a friend, and after plunging in +nothing was seen of him for some while. His friend began to +be alarmed, when he heard Borrow’s voice a long way off +exclaiming, “There, if that had been written in one of my +books they would have said it was a lie, wouldn’t +they?” He was very fond of animals, and the animals +were fond of him. He would go for a walk with two dogs and +a cat following him. The <a name="page201"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 201</span>cat would go a quarter of a mile or +so and then turn back home. He delighted to go for long +walks and enter into conversation with any one he might meet on +the road, and lead them into histories of their lives, +belongings, and experiences. When they used some word +peculiar to Norfolk (or Suffolk) countrymen he would say, +“Why, that’s a Danish word.” By and by +the man would use another peculiar expression, “Why, +that’s Saxon”; a little later on another, “Why, +that’s French.” And he would add, “Why, +what a wonderful man you are to speak so many +languages.” One man got very angry, but Mr. Borrow +was quite unconscious that he had given any offence. He +spoke a great number of languages, and at the Exhibition of 1851, +whither he went with his stepdaughter, he spoke to the different +foreigners in their own language, until his daughter saw some of +them whispering together and looking as if they thought he was +“uncanny,” and she became alarmed and drew him +away. He, however, did not like to hear the English +language adulterated with the introduction of foreign +words. If his wife or friends used a foreign word in +conversation, he would say, “What’s that, trying to +come over me with strange languages.”</p> +<p>I have gone for many a walk with him at Oulton. He used +to go on, singing to himself or quite silent, quite forgetting me +until he came to a high hill, when he would turn round, seize my +hand, and drag me up. Then he would sit down and enjoy the +prospect. He was a great lover of nature, and very fond of +his trees. He quite fretted if, by some mischance, he lost +one. He did not shoot or hunt. He rode his Arab at +times, but walking was his favourite exercise. He was +subject to fits of nervous depression. At times also he +suffered from sleeplessness, when he would get up and walk to +Norwich (25 miles), and return the next night recovered. +His fondness for the gypsies has been noticed. At Oulton he +used to allow them to encamp in his grounds, and he would visit +them, with a friend or alone, talk to them in Romany, and sing +Romany songs. He was very fond of ghost stories and +believed in the supernatural. He was keenly sympathetic +with any one who was in trouble or suffering. He was no man +of business and very guileless, and led a very harmless, quiet +life at Oulton, spending his evenings at home with his wife and +step-daughter, generally reading all the evening. He was +very hospitable in his own home, and detested meanness. He +was moderate in eating and drinking, took very little breakfast, +but ate a very great quantity at dinner, and then had only a +draught of cold water before going to bed. He wrote much in +praise of “strong ale,” and was very fond of good +ale, of whose virtue he had a great idea. Once I was +speaking of a lady who was attached to a gentleman, and he asked, +“Well, did he make her an offer?” +“No,” I said. “Ah,” he exclaimed, +“if she had given him some good ale he would.” +But although he talked so much about ale I never saw him take +much. He was very temperate, and would eat what was set +before him, often not thinking of what <a +name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 202</span>he was +doing, and he never refused what was offered him. He took +much pleasure in music, especially of a light and lively +character. My sister would sing to him, and I played. +One piece he seemed never to tire of hearing. It was a +polka, “The Redowa,” I think, and when I had finished +he used to say, “Play that again, E—.” He +was very polite and gentlemanly in ladies’ society, and we +all liked him.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is refreshing to read this tribute, from which I have +omitted nothing salient, because a very disagreeable Borrow has +somehow grown up into a tradition. I note in reading some +of the reviews of Dr. Knapp’s <i>Life</i> that he is +charged, or half-charged, with suppressing facts, “because +they do not reflect credit upon the subject of his +biography.” Now, there were really no facts to +suppress. Borrow was at times a very irritable man, he was +a very self-centred one. His egotism might even be +pronounced amazing by those who had never met an author. +But those of us who have, recognise that with very few exceptions +they are all egotists, although some conceal it from the +unobservant more deftly than others. Many authors of power +have died young and unrecognised; but recognition has usually +come to those men of genius who have lived into middle age. +It did not come to Borrow. He had therefore a right to be +soured. This sourness found expression in many ways. +Borrow, most sound of churchmen, actually quarrelled with his +vicar over the tempers of their respective dogs. Both the +vicar, the Rev. Edwin Proctor Denniss, and his parishioner wrote +one another acrid letters. Here is Borrow’s parting +shot:</p> +<blockquote><p>Circumstances over which Mr. Borrow has at present +no control will occasionally bring him and his family under the +same roof with Mr. Denniss; that roof, however, is the roof of +the House of God, and the prayers of the Church of England are +wholesome from whatever mouth they may proceed.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Surely that is a kind of quarrel we have all had in our day, +and we think ourselves none the less virtuous in +consequence. Then there was Borrow’s very natural +ambition to be made a magistrate of Suffolk. He tells Mr. +John Murray in 1842 that he has caught a bad cold by getting up +at night in pursuit of poachers and thieves. “A +terrible neighbourhood this,” he adds, “not a +magistrate dare do <a name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +203</span>his duty.” And so in the next year he wrote +again to the same correspondent:</p> +<blockquote><p>Present my compliments to Mr. Gladstone, and tell +him that the <i>Bible in Spain</i> will have no objection to +becoming one of the “Great Unpaid.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Gladstone, although he had admired <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>, and indeed had even suggested the modification of one +of its sentences, did nothing. Lockhart, Lord Clarendon, +and others who were applied to were equally powerless or +indifferent. Borrow never got his magistracy. To-day +no man of equal eminence in literature could possibly have failed +of so slight an ambition. Moreover, Borrow wanted to be a +J.P., not from mere snobbery as many might, but for a definite, +practical object. I am afraid he would not have made a very +good magistrate, and perhaps inquiry had made that clear to the +authorities. Lastly, there was Borrow’s quarrel with +the railway which came through his estate. He had thoughts +of removing to Bury, where Dr. Hake lived, or to Troston Hall, +once the home of the interesting Capell Lofft. But he was +not to leave Oulton. In intervals of holidays, journeys, +and of sojourn in Yarmouth it was to remain his home to the +end. In 1849 his mother joined him at Oulton. She had +resided for thirty-three years at the Willow Lane Cottage. +She was now seventy-seven years of age. She lived on near +her son as a tenant of his tenant at Oulton Hall until her death +nine years later, dying in 1858 in her eighty-seventh year. +She lies buried in Oulton Churchyard, with a tomb thus +inscribed:</p> +<blockquote><p>Sacred to the memory of Ann Borrow, widow of +Captain Thomas Borrow. She died on the 16th of August 1858, +aged eighty-six years and seven months. She was a good wife +and a good mother.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During these years at Oulton we have many glimpses of +Borrow. Dr. Jessopp, for example, has recorded in <i>The +Athenæum</i> newspaper his own hero-worship for the author +of <i>Lavengro</i>, whom he was never to meet. This +enthusiasm for <i>Lavengro</i> was shared by certain of his +Norfolk friends of those days:</p> +<blockquote><p>Among those friends were two who, I believe, are +still alive, and who about the year 1846 set out, without telling +me of <a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>their intention, on a pilgrimage to Oulton to see +George Borrow in the flesh. In those days the journey was +not an inconsiderable one; and though my friends must have known +that I would have given my ears to be of the party, I suppose +they kept their project to themselves for reasons of their +own. Two, they say, are company and three are none; two men +could ride in a gig for sixty miles without much difficulty, and +an odd man often spoils sport. At any rate, they left me +out, and one day they came back full of malignant pride and joy +and exultation, and they flourished their information before me +with boastings and laughter at my ferocious jealousy; for they +had seen, and talked with, and eaten and drunk with, and sat at +the feet of the veritable George Borrow, and had grasped his +mighty hand. To me it was too provoking. But what had +they to tell?</p> +<p>They found him at Oulton, living, as they affirmed, in a house +which belonged to Mrs. Borrow and which her first husband had +left her. The household consisted of himself, his wife, and +his wife’s daughter; and among his other amusements he +employed himself in training some young horses to follow him +about like dogs and come at the call of his whistle. As my +two friends were talking with him Borrow sounded his whistle in a +paddock near the house, which, if I remember rightly, was +surrounded by a low wall. Immediately two beautiful horses +came bounding over the fence and trotted up to their +master. One put his nose into Borrow’s outstretched +hand and the other kept snuffing at his pockets in expectation of +the usual bribe for confidence and good behaviour. Borrow +could not but be flattered by the young Cambridge men paying him +the frank homage they offered, and he treated them with the +robust and cordial hospitality characteristic of the man. +One or two things they learnt which I do not feel at liberty to +repeat.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Arthur W. Upcher of Sheringham Hall, Cromer, also provided +in <i>The Athenæum</i> a quaint reminiscence of Borrow in +which he recalled that Lavengro had called upon Miss Anna +Gurney. This lady had, assuredly with less guile, treated +him much as Frances Cobbe would have done. She had taken +down an Arabic grammar, and put it into his hand, asking for +explanation of some difficult point which he tried to decipher; +but meanwhile she talked to him continuously. “I +could not,” said Borrow, “study the Arabic grammar +and listen to her at the same time, so I threw down the book and +ran out of the room.” He soon after met Mr. Upcher, +to whom he made an interesting revelation:</p> +<blockquote><p>He told us there were three personages in the +world whom <a name="page205"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +205</span>he had always a desire to see; two of these had slipped +through his fingers, so he was determined to see the third. +“Pray, Mr. Borrow, who were they?” He held up +three fingers of his left hand and pointed them off with the +forefinger of the right: the first Daniel O’Connell, the +second Lamplighter (the sire of Phosphorus, Lord Berners’s +winner of the Derby), the third, Anna Gurney. The first two +were dead and he had not seen them; now he had come to see Anna +Gurney, and this was the end of his visit.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>At one moment of the correspondence we obtain an interesting +glimpse of a great man of science. Mr. Darwin sent the +following inquiry through Dr. Hooker, afterwards Sir Joseph +Hooker, and it reached Borrow through his friend Thomas +Brightwell:</p> +<blockquote><p>Is there any Dog in Spain closely like our English +Pointer, in <i>shape</i> and size, and +<i>habits</i>,—namely in pointing, backing, and not giving +tongue. Might I be permitted to quote Mr. Borrow’s +answer to the query? Has the improved English pointer been +introduced into Spain?</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">C. +Darwin</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow took constant holidays during these Oulton days. +We have elsewhere noted his holidays in Eastern Europe, in the +Isle of Man, in Wales, and in Cornwall. Letters from other +parts of England would be welcome, but I can only find two, and +these are but scraps. Both are addressed to his wife, each +without date:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, +<i>Feb.</i> 2<i>nd.</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I reached this +place yesterday and hope to be home to-night (Monday). I +walked the whole way by Kingston, Hampton, Sunbury (Miss +Oriel’s place), Windsor, Wallingford, etc., a good part of +the way was by the Thames. There has been much wet +weather. Oxford is a wonderful place.</p> +<p>Kiss Hen., and God bless you!</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Tunbridge +Wells</span>, <i>Tuesday evening</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I have arrived +here safe—it is a wonderful place, a small city of palaces +amidst hills, rocks, and woods, and is full of fine people. +Please to carry up stairs and lock in the drawer the little paper +sack of letters in the parlour; lock <a name="page206"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 206</span>it up with the bank book and put +this along with it—also be sure to keep the window of my +room fastened and the door locked, and keep the key in your +pocket. God bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One of the very last letters of Borrow that I possess is to an +unknown correspondent. It is from a rough +“draft” in his handwriting:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Oulton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span>, <i>May</i> 1875.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—Your letter of the +eighth of March I only lately received, otherwise I should have +answered it sooner. In it you mention Chamberlayne’s +work, containing versions of the Lord’s Prayer translated +into a hundred languages, and ask whether I can explain why the +one which purports to be a rendering into Waldensian is evidently +made in some dialect of the Gaelic. To such explanation as +I can afford you are welcome, though perhaps you will not deem it +very satisfactory. I have been acquainted with +Chamberlayne’s work for upwards of forty years. I +first saw it at St. Petersburg in 1834, and the translation in +question very soon caught my attention. I at first thought +that it was an attempt at imposition, but I soon relinquished +that idea. I remembered that Helvetia was a great place for +Gaelic. I do not mean in the old time when the Gael +possessed the greater part of Europe, but at a long subsequent +period: Switzerland was converted to Christianity by Irish monks, +the most active and efficient of whom was Gall. These +people founded schools in which together with Christianity the +Irish or Gaelic language was taught. In process of time, +though the religion flourished, the Helveto Gaelic died away, but +many pieces in that tongue survived, some of which might still +probably be found in the recesses of St. Gall. The noble +abbey is named after the venerable apostle of Christianity in +Helvetia; so I deemed it very possible that the version in +question might be one of the surviving fruits of Irish missionary +labour in Helvetia, not but that I had my doubts, and still have, +principally from observing that the language though certainly not +modern does not exhibit any decided marks of high +antiquity. It is much to be regretted that Chamberlayne +should have given the version to the world under a title so +calculated to perplex and mislead as that which it bears, and +without even stating how or where he obtained it. This, +sir, is all I have to say on the very obscure subject about which +you have done me the honour to consult me.—Yours truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +207</span>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Scotland and Ireland</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrow</span> has himself given +us—in <i>Lavengro</i>—a picturesque record of his +early experiences in Scotland. It is passing strange that +he published no account of his two visits to the North in maturer +years. Why did he not write <i>Wild Scotland</i> as a +companion volume to <i>Wild Wales</i>? He preserved in +little leather pocket-books or leather-covered exercise-books +copious notes of both tours. Two of his notebooks came into +the possession of the late Dr. Knapp, Borrow’s first +biographer, and are thus described in his Bibliography:</p> +<blockquote><p><i>Note Book of a Tour in Scotland</i>, <i>the +Orkneys and Shetland in Oct. and Dec.</i> 1858. 1 large +vol. leather.</p> +<p><i>Note Book of Tours around Belfast and the Scottish Borders +from Stranraer to Berwick-upon-Tweed in July and August</i> +1866. 1 vol. leather.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Of these Dr. Knapp made use only to give the routes of +Borrow’s journeys so far as he was able to interpret +them. It may be that he was doubtful as to whether his +purchase of the manuscript carried with it the copyright of its +contents, as it assuredly did not; it may be that he quailed +before the minute and almost undecipherable handwriting. +But similar notebooks are in my possession, and there are, +happily, in these days typists—you pay them by the hour, +and it means an infinity of time and patience—who will copy +the most minute and the most obscure documents. There are +some of the notebooks of the Scottish tour of 1858 before me, and +what is of far more importance—Borrow’s letters to +his wife while on this tour. Borrow lost his mother in +August, 1858, and this event was naturally a great blow to his +heart. A week or two later he suffered a cruel blow to his +pride also, nothing less than the return of the manuscript of his +much-prized translation from the Welsh of <i>The Sleeping +Bard</i>—and this by his “prince of <a +name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +208</span>publishers,” John Murray. “There is +no money in it,” said the publisher, and he was doubtless +right. The two disasters were of different character, but +both unhinged him. He had already written <i>Wild +Wales</i>, although it was not to be published for another four +years. He had caused to be advertised—in 1857—a +book on Cornwall, but it was never written in any definitive +form, and now our author had lost heart, and the Cornish +book—<i>Penquite and Pentyre</i>—and the Scots book +never saw the light. In these autumn months of 1858 +geniality and humour had parted from Borrow; this his diary makes +clear. He was ill. His wife urged a tour in Scotland, +and he prepared himself for a rough, simple journey, of a kind +quite different from the one in Wales. The north of +Scotland in the winter was scarcely to be thought of for his wife +and step-daughter Henrietta. He tells us in one of these +diaries that he walked “several hundred miles in the +Highlands.” His wife and daughter were with him in +Wales, as every reader of <i>Wild Wales</i> will recall, but the +Scots tour was meant to be a more formidable pilgrimage, and they +went to Great Yarmouth instead. The first half of the +tour—that of September—is dealt with in letters to +his wife, the latter half is reflected in his diary. The +letters show Borrow’s experiences in the earlier part of +his journey, and from his diaries we learn that he was in Oban on +22nd October, Aberdeen on 5th November, Inverness on the 9th, and +thence he went to Tain, Dornoch, Wick, John o’ +Groat’s, and to the island towns, Stromness, Kirkwall, and +Lerwick. He was in Shetland on the 1st of +December—altogether a bleak, cheerless journey, we may +believe, even for so hardy a tramp as Borrow, and the tone of the +following extract from one of his rough notebooks in my +possession may perhaps be explained by the circumstance. +Borrow is on the way to Loch Laggan and visits a desolate +churchyard, Coll Harrie, to see the tomb of John Macdonnel or Ian +Lom:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was on a Highland hill in an old Popish +burying-ground. I entered the ruined church, disturbed a +rabbit crouching under an old tombstone—it ran into a hole, +then came out running about like wild—quite +frightened—made room for it to run out by the doorway, +telling it I would not hurt it—went out again and examined +the tombs. . . . Would have <a name="page209"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 209</span>examined much more but the wind and +rain blew horribly, and I was afraid that my hat, if not my head, +would be blown into the road over the hill. Quitted the +place of old Highland Popish devotion—descended the hill +again with great difficulty—grass slippery and the ground +here and there quaggy, resumed the road—village—went +to the door of house looking down the valley—to ask its +name—knock—people came out, a whole family, looking +sullen and all savage. The stout, tall young man with the +grey savage eyes—civil questions—half-savage +answers—village’s name Achaluarach—the +neighbourhood—all Catholic—chiefly Macdonnels; said +the English, <i>my countrymen</i>, had taken the whole +country—“but not without paying for it,” I +replied—said I was soaking wet with a kind of sneer, but +never asked me in. I said I cared not for wet. A +savage, brutal Papist and a hater of the English—the whole +family with bad countenances—a tall woman in the background +probably the mother of them all. Bade him good-day, he made +no answer and I went away. Learnt that the river’s +name was Spean.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He passed through Scotland in a disputative vein, which could +not have made him a popular traveller. He tells a Roman +Catholic of the Macdonnel clan to read his Bible and “trust +in Christ, not in the Virgin Mary and graven images.” +He went up to another man who accosted him with the remark that +“It is a soft day,” and said, “You should not +say a ‘soft’ day, but a wet day.” Even +the Spanish, for whom he had so much contempt and scorn when he +returned from the Peninsula, are “in many things a wise +people”—after his experiences of the Scots. +There is abundance of Borrow’s prejudice, intolerance, and +charm in this fragment of a diary; but the extract I have given +is of additional interest as showing how Borrow wrote all his +books. The notebooks that he wrote in Spain and Wales were +made up of similar disjointed jottings. Here is a note of +more human character interspersed with Borrow’s diatribes +upon the surliness of the Scots. He is at Invergarry, on +the banks of Loch Oich. It is the 5th of October:</p> +<blockquote><p>Dinner of real haggis; meet a conceited +schoolmaster. This night, or rather in the early morning, I +saw in the dream of my sleep my dear departed mother—she +appeared to be coming out of her little sleeping-room at Oulton +Hall—overjoyed I gave a cry and fell down at her knee, but +my agitation was so great that it burst the bonds of sleep, and I +awoke.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But the letters to Mrs. Borrow are the essential documents <a +name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 210</span>here, and +not the copious diaries which I hope to publish elsewhere. +The first letter to “Carreta” is from Edinburgh, +where Borrow arrived on Sunday, 19th September, 1858:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 38 <span class="smcap">Camperdown +Place</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, <span +class="smcap">Norfolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Edinburgh</span>, <i>Sunday</i> (<i>Sept.</i> +19<i>th</i>, 1858).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I just write a +line to inform you that I arrived here yesterday quite +safe. We did not start from Yarmouth till past three +o’clock on Thursday morning; we reached Newcastle about ten +on Friday. As I was walking in the street at Newcastle a +sailor-like man came running up to me, and begged that I would +let him speak to me. He appeared almost wild with +joy. I asked him who he was, and he told me he was a +Yarmouth north beach man, and that he knew me very well. +Before I could answer, another sailor-like, short, thick fellow +came running up, who also seemed wild with joy; he was a comrade +of the other. I never saw two people so out of themselves +with pleasure, they literally danced in the street; in fact, they +were two of my old friends. I asked them how they came down +there, and they told me that they had been down fishing. +They begged a thousand pardons for speaking to me, but told me +they could not help it. I set off for Alnwick on Friday +afternoon, stayed there all night, and saw the castle next +morning. It is a fine old place, but at present is +undergoing repairs—a Scottish king was killed before its +walls in the old time. At about twelve I started for +Edinburgh. The place is wonderfully altered since I was +here, and I don’t think for the better. There is a +Runic stone on the castle brae which I am going to copy. It +was not there in my time. If you write direct to me at the +Post Office, Inverness. I am thinking of going to Glasgow +to-morrow, from which place I shall start for Inverness by one of +the packets which go thither by the North-West and the Caledonian +Canal. I hope that you and Hen. are well and +comfortable. Pray eat plenty of grapes and +partridges. We had upon the whole a pleasant passage from +Yarmouth; we lived plainly but well, and I was not at all +ill—the captain seemed a kind, honest creature. +Remember me kindly to Mrs. Turnour and Mrs. Clarke, and God bless +you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In his unpublished diary Borrow records his journey from +Glasgow through beautiful but over-described scenery to +Inverness, where he stayed at the Caledonian Hotel:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 38 <span +class="smcap">Camperdown Place</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Inverness</span>, <i>Sunday</i> (<i>Sept.</i> +26th).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—This is the +third letter which I have written to you. Whether you have +received the other two, or will receive this, I am +doubtful. I have been several times to the post office, but +we found no letter from you, though I expected to find one +awaiting me when I arrived. I wrote last on Friday. I +merely want to know once how you are, and if all is well I shall +move onward. It is of not much use staying here. +After I had written to you on Friday I crossed by the ferry over +the Firth and walked to Beauly, and from thence to Beaufort or +Castle Downie; at Beauly I saw the gate of the pit where old +Fraser used to put the people whom he owed money to—it is +in the old ruined cathedral, and at Beaufort saw the ruins of the +house where he was born. Lord Lovat lives in the house +close by. There is now a claimant to the title, a +descendant of Old Fraser’s elder brother who committed a +murder in the year 1690, and on that account fled to South +Wales. The present family are rather uneasy, and so are +their friends, of whom they have a great number, for though they +are flaming Papists they are very free of their money. I +have told several of their cousins that the claimant has not a +chance as the present family have been so long in +possession. They almost blessed me for saying so. +There, however, can be very little doubt that the title and +estate, more than a million acres, belong to the claimant by +strict law. Old Fraser’s brother was called Black +John of the Tasser. The man whom he killed was a piper who +sang an insulting song to him at a wedding. I have heard +the words and have translated them; he was dressed very finely, +and the piper sang:</p> +<p>“You’re dressed in Highland robes, O John,<br /> + But ropes of straw would become ye better;<br /> +You’ve silver buckles your shoes upon<br /> + But leather thongs for them were fitter.”</p> +<p>Whereupon John drew his dagger and ran it into the +piper’s belly; the descendants of the piper are still +living at Beauly. I walked that day thirty-four miles +between noon and ten o’clock at night. My letter of +credit is here. This is a dear place, but not so bad as +Edinburgh. <i>If you have written</i>, don’t write +any more till you hear from me again. God bless you and +Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Swindled out of a shilling by rascally ferryman,” +is Borrow’s note in his diary of the episode that he +relates to his wife of crossing the Firth. He does not tell +her, but <a name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +212</span>his diary tells us, that he changed his inn on the day +he wrote this letter: the following jottings from the diary cover +the period:</p> +<blockquote><p><i>Sept.</i> 29<i>th</i>.—Quit the +“Caledonian” for “Union Sun”—poor +accommodation—could scarcely get anything to +eat—unpleasant day. Walked by the river—at +night saw the comet again from the bridge.</p> +<p><i>Sept.</i> 30<i>th</i>.—Breakfast. The stout +gentleman from Caithness, Mr. John Miller, gave me his +card—show him mine—his delight.</p> +<p><i>Oct.</i> 1<i>st</i>.—Left Inverness for Fort Augustus +by steamer—passengers—strange man—tall +gentleman—half doctor—breakfast—dreadful +hurricane of wind and rain—reach Fort +Augustus—inn—apartments—Edinburgh +ale—stroll over the bridge to a wretched village—wind +and rain—return—fall asleep before +fire—dinner—herrings, first-rate—black ale, +Highland mutton—pudding and cream—stroll round the +fort—wet grass—stormy-like—wind and +rain—return—kitchen—kind, intelligent woman +from Dornoch—no Gaelic—shows me a Gaelic book of +spiritual songs by one Robertson—talks to me about +Alexander Cumming, a fat blacksmith and great singer of Gaelic +songs.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But to return to Borrow’s letters to his wife:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 38 <span class="smcap">Camperdown +Terrace</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gt. Yarmouth</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Inverness</span>, <i>September</i> 29<i>th</i>, +1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—I have got +your letter, and glad enough I was to get it. The day after +to-morrow I shall depart from here for Fort Augustus at some +distance up the lake. After staying a few days there, I am +thinking of going to the Isle of Mull, but I will write to you if +possible from Fort Augustus. I am rather sorry that I came +to Scotland—I was never in such a place in my life for +cheating and imposition, and the farther north you go the worse +things seem to be, and yet I believe it is possible to live very +cheap here, that is if you have a house of your own and a wife to +go out and make bargains, for things are abundant enough, but if +you move about you are at the mercy of innkeepers and suchlike +people. The other day I was swindled out of a shilling by a +villain to whom I had given it for change. I ought, +perhaps, to have had him up before a magistrate provided I could +have found one, but I was in a wild place and he had a clan about +him, and if I had had him up I have no doubt I should have been +out-sworn. I, however, have met one fine, noble old +fellow. The other night I lost my way amongst horrible +moors and wandered for miles and miles without seeing a +soul. At last I saw a light which came from the window of a +rude hovel. I tapped <a name="page213"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 213</span>at the window and shouted, and at +last an old man came out; he asked me what I wanted, and I told +him I had lost my way. He asked me where I came from and +where I wanted to go, and on my telling him he said I had indeed +lost my way, for I had got out of it at least four miles, and was +going away from the place I wanted to get to. He then said +he would show me the way, and went with me several miles over +most horrible places. At last we came to a road where he +said he thought he might leave me, and wished me +good-night. I gave him a shilling. He was very +grateful and said, after considering, that as I had behaved so +handsomely to him he would not leave me yet, as he thought it +possible I might yet lose my way. He then went with me +three miles farther, and I have no doubt that, but for him, I +should have lost my way again, the roads were so tangled. I +never saw such an old fellow, or one whose conversation was so +odd and entertaining. This happened last Monday night, the +night of the day in which I had been swindled of the shilling by +the other; I could write a history about those two shillings.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 39 <span class="smcap">Camperdown +Terrace</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gt. Yarmouth</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Inverness</span>, 30<i>th</i> <i>September</i> +1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I write another +line to tell you that I have got your second letter—it came +just in time, as I leave to-morrow. In your next, address +to George Borrow, Post Office, Tobermory, Isle of Mull, +Scotland. You had, however, better write without delay, as +I don’t know how long I may be there; and be sure only to +write once. I am glad we have got such a desirable tenant +for our Maltings, and should be happy to hear that the cottage +was also let so well. However, let us be grateful for what +has been accomplished. I hope you wrote to Cooke as I +desired you, and likewise said something about how I had waited +for Murray. . . . I met to-day a very fat gentleman from +Caithness, at the very north of Scotland; he said he was +descended from the Norse. I talked to him about them, and +he was so pleased with my conversation that he gave me his card, +and begged that I would visit him if I went there. As I +could do no less, I showed him my card—I had but +one—and he no sooner saw the name than he was in a +rapture. I am rather glad that you have got the next door, +as the locality is highly respectable. Tell Hen. that I +copied the Runic stone on the Castle Hill, Edinburgh. It +was brought from Denmark in the old time. The inscription +is imperfect, but I can read enough of it to see that it was +erected by a man to his father and mother. I again write +the direction for your next: George Borrow, Esq., Post Office, +Tobermory, Isle of Mull, Scotland. God bless you and +Hen. Ever yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 214</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 39 <span +class="smcap">Camperdown Terrace</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gt. Yarmouth</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Fort +Augustus</span>, <i>Sunday</i>, <i>October</i> 7<i>th</i>, +1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I write a line +lest you should be uneasy. Before leaving the Highlands I +thought I would see a little more about me. So last week I +set on a four days’ task, a walk of a hundred miles. +I returned here late last Thursday night. I walked that day +forty-five miles; during the first twenty the rain poured in +torrents and the wind blew in my face. The last seventeen +miles were in the dark. To-morrow I proceed towards +Mull. I hope that you got my letters, and that I shall find +something from you awaiting me at the post office. The +first day I passed over Corryarrick, a mountain 3000 feet +high. I was nearly up to my middle in snow. As soon +as I had passed it I was in Badenoch. The road on the +farther side was horrible, and I was obliged to wade several +rivulets, one of which was very boisterous and nearly threw me +down. I wandered through a wonderful country, and picked up +a great many strange legends from the people I met, but they were +very few, the country being almost a desert, chiefly inhabited by +deer. When amidst the lower mountains I frequently heard +them blaring in the woods above me. The people at the inn +here are by far the nicest I have met; they are kind and +honourable to a degree. God bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 39 <span class="smcap">Camperdown +Terrace</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">(Fragment? undated.)</p> +<p>On Tuesday I am going through the whole of it to +Icolmkill—I should start to-morrow—but I must get my +shoes new soles, for they have been torn to pieces by the roads, +and likewise some of my things mended, for they are in a sad +condition.</p> +<p>I shall return from Thurso to Inverness, as I shall want some +more money to bring me home. So pray do not let the credit +be withdrawn. What a blessing it is to have money, but how +cautious people ought to be not to waste it. Pray remember +me most kindly to our good friend Mr. Hills. Send the +Harveys the pheasant as usual with my kind regards. I think +you should write to Mr. Dalton of Bury telling him that I have +been unwell, and that I send my kind regards and respects to +him. I send dear Hen a paper in company with this, in which +I have enclosed specimens of the heather, the moss and the fern, +or “raineach,” of Mull.—God bless you both.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Do not delay in sending the order. Write at the same +time telling me how you are.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 215</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. George Borrow</span>, 39 <span +class="smcap">Camperdown Terrace</span>, <span +class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, <span +class="smcap">Norfolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Inverness</span>, <i>Nov.</i> 7<i>th</i>, 1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—After I wrote +to you I walked round Mull and through it, over Benmore. I +likewise went to Icolmkill, and passed twenty-four hours +there. I saw the wonderful ruin and crossed the +island. I suffered a great deal from hunger, but what I saw +amply repaid me; on my return to Tobermory I was rather unwell, +but got better. I was disappointed in a passage to Thurso +by sea, so I was obliged to return to this place by train. +On Tuesday, <span class="smcap">D.V.</span>, I shall set out on +foot, and hope to find your letter awaiting me at the post office +at Thurso. On coming hither by train I nearly lost my +things. I was told at Huntly that the train stopped ten +minutes, and meanwhile the train drove off <i>purposely</i>; I +telegraphed to Keith in order that my things might be secured, +describing where they were, under the seat. The reply was +that there was nothing of the kind there. I instantly said +that I would bring an action against the company, and walked off +to the town, where I stated the facts to a magistrate, and gave +him my name and address. He advised me to bring my +action. I went back and found the people frightened. +They telegraphed again—and the reply was that the things +were safe. There is nothing like setting oneself up +sometimes. I was terribly afraid I should never again find +my books and things. I, however, got them, and my old +umbrella, too. I was sent on by the mail train, but lost +four hours, besides undergoing a great deal of misery and +excitement. When I have been to Thurso and Kirkwall I shall +return as quick as possible, and shall be glad to get out of the +country. As I am here, however, I wish to see all I can, +for I never wish to return. Whilst in Mull I lived very +cheaply—it is not costing me more than seven shillings a +day. The generality of the inns, however, in the lowlands +are incredibly dear—half-a-crown for breakfast, consisting +of a little tea, a couple of small eggs, and bread and +butter—<i>two</i> shillings for attendance. Tell Hen. +that I have some moss for her from Benmore—also some +seaweed from the farther shore of Icolmkill. God bless +you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, +<span class="smcap">Norfolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Thurso</span>, +21<i>st</i> <i>Nov.</i> 1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—I reached +this place on Friday night, and was glad enough to get your kind +letter. I shall be so glad to get home to you. Since +my last letter to you I have walked nearly 160 miles. I was +terribly taken in with respect to distances—however, I +managed to make my way. I have been to Johnny Groat’s +House, which is about twenty-two miles from this place. I +had tolerably fine weather all the way, but <a +name="page216"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 216</span>within two +or three miles of that place a terrible storm arose; the next day +the country was covered with ice and snow. There is at +present here a kind of Greenland winter, colder almost than I +ever knew the winter in Russia. The streets are so covered +with ice that it is dangerous to step out; to-morrow D. and I +pass over into Orkney, and we shall take the first steamer to +Aberdeen and Inverness, from whence I shall make the best of my +way to England. It is well that I have no farther to walk, +for walking now is almost impossible—the last twenty miles +were terrible, and the weather is worse now than it was +then. I was terribly deceived with respect to +steamboats. I was told that one passed over to Orkney every +day, and I have now been waiting two days, and there is not yet +one. I have had quite enough of Scotland. When I was +at Johnny Groat’s I got a shell for dear Hen, which I hope +I shall be able to bring or send to her. I am glad to hear +that you have got out the money on the mortgage so +satisfactorily. One of the greatest blessings in this world +is to be independent. My spirits of late have been rather +bad, owing principally to my dear mother’s death. I +always knew that we should miss her. I dreamt about her at +Fort Augustus. Though I have walked so much I have suffered +very little from fatigue, and have got over the ground with +surprising facility, but I have not enjoyed the country so much +as Wales. I wish that you would order a hat for me against +I come home; the one I am wearing is very shabby, having been so +frequently drenched with rain and storm-beaten. I cannot +say the exact day that I shall be home but you may be expecting +me. The worst is that there is no depending on the +steamers, for there is scarcely any traffic in Scotland in +winter. My appetite of late has been very poorly, chiefly, +I believe, owing to badness of food and want of regular +meals. Glad enough, I repeat, shall I be to get home to you +and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, +<span class="smcap">Norfolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Kirkwall</span>, +<span class="smcap">Orkney</span>, <i>November</i> 27<i>th</i>, +1858. <i>Saturday</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I am, as you +see, in Orkney, and I expect every minute the steamer which will +take me to Shetland and Aberdeen, from which last place I go by +train to Inverness, where my things are, and thence home. I +had a stormy passage to Stromness, from whence I took a boat to +the Isle of Hoy, where I saw the wonderful Dwarf’s House +hollowed out of the stone. From Stromness I walked +here. I have seen the old Norwegian Cathedral; it is of red +sandstone, and looks as if cut out of rock. It is different +from almost everything of the kind I ever saw. It is stern +and grand to a degree. I have also seen the ruins of the +old Norwegian Bishop’s palace in which King Hacon died; +also the ruins of the palace of Patrick, Earl of Orkney. I +have been treated here with every kindness <a +name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 217</span>and +civility. As soon as the people knew who I was they could +scarcely make enough of me. The Sheriff, Mr. Robertson, a +great Gaelic scholar, said he was proud to see me in his house; +and a young gentleman of the name of Petrie, Clerk of Supply, has +done nothing but go about with me to show me the wonders of the +place. Mr. Robertson wished to give me letters to some +gentleman at Edinburgh. I, however, begged leave to be +excused, saying that I wished to get home, as, indeed, I do, for +my mind is wearied by seeing so many strange places. On my +way to Kirkwall I saw the stones of Stennis—immense blocks +of stone standing up like those of Salisbury Plain. All the +country is full of Druidical and Pictish remains. It is, +however, very barren, and scarcely a tree is to be seen, only a +few dwarf ones. Orkney consists of a multitude of small +islands, the principal of which is Pomona, in which Kirkwall +is. The currents between them are terrible. I hope to +be home a few days after you receive these lines, either by rail +or steamer. This is a fine day, but there has been dreadful +weather here. I hope we shall have a prosperous +passage. I have purchased a little Kirkwall newspaper, +which I send you with this letter. I shall perhaps post +both at Lerwick or Aberdeen. I sent you a Johnny +Groat’s newspaper, which I hope you got. Don’t +tear either up, for they are curious. God bless you and +Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, +<span class="smcap">Norfolk</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Stirling</span>,<i> Dec.</i> 14<i>th</i>, 1858.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I write a line +to tell you that I am well and that I am on my way to England, +but I am stopped here for a day, for there is no +conveyance. Wherever I can walk I get on very +well—but if you depend on coaches or any means of +conveyance in this country you are sure to be disappointed. +This place is but thirty-five miles from Edinburgh, yet I am +detained for a day—there is no train. The waste of +that day will prevent me getting to Yarmouth from Hull by the +steamer. Were it not for my baggage I would walk to +Edinburgh. I got to Aberdeen, where I posted a letter for +you. I was then obliged to return to Inverness for my +luggage—125 miles. Rather than return again to +Aberdeen, I sent on my things to Dunkeld and walked the 102 miles +through the Highlands. When I got here I walked to Loch +Lomond and Loch Katrine, thirty-eight miles over horrible +roads. I then got back here. I have now seen the +whole of Scotland that is worth seeing, and walked 600 +miles. I shall be glad to be out of the country; a person +here must depend entirely upon himself and his own legs. I +have not spent much money—my expenses during my wanderings +averaged a shilling a day. As I was walking through +Strathspey, singularly enough I met two or three of the +Phillips. I did not know them, but a child came running +after me to ask <a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +218</span>me my name. It was Miss P. and two of the +children. I hope to get to you in two or three days after +you get this. God bless you and dear Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In spite of Borrow’s vow never to visit Scotland again, +he was there eight years later—in 1866—but only in +the Lowlands. His stepdaughter, Hen., or Henrietta Clarke, +had married Dr. MacOubrey, of Belfast, and Borrow and his wife +went on a visit to the pair. But the incorrigible vagabond +in Borrow was forced to declare itself, and leaving his wife and +daughter in Belfast he crossed to Stranraer by steamer on 17th +July, 1866, and tramped through the lowlands, visiting +Ecclefechan and Gretna Green. We have no record of his +experiences at these places. The only literary impression +of the Scots tour of 1866, apart from a brief reference in Dr. +Knapp’s <i>Life</i>, is an essay on Kirk Yetholm in +<i>Romano Lavo-Lil</i>. We would gladly have exchanged it +for an account of his visits to Abbotsford and Melrose, two +places which he saw in August of this year.</p> +<p>In his letter of 27th November from Kirkwall it will be seen +that Borrow records the kindness received from “a young +gentleman of the name of Petrie.” It is pleasant to +find that when he returned to England he did not forget that +kindness, as the next letter demonstrates:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Petrie</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Kirkwall</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">39 <span class="smcap">Camperdown +Place</span>, <span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>,<i> Jany.</i> +14, 1859.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—Some weeks ago I +wrote to Mr. Murray [and] requested him to transmit to you two +works of mine. Should you not have received them by the +time this note reaches you, pray inform me and I will write to +him again. They may have come already, but whenever they +may come to hand, keep them in remembrance of one who will never +forget your kind attention to him in Orkney.</p> +<p>On reaching Aberdeen I went to Inverness by rail. From +there I sent off my luggage to Dunkeld, and walked thither by the +Highland road. I never enjoyed a walk more—the +weather was tolerably fine, and I was amidst some of the finest +scenery in the world. I was particularly struck with that +of Glen Truim. Near the top of the valley in sight of the +Craig of Badenoch on the left hand side of the way, I saw an +immense cairn, probably the memorial of some bloody clan +battle. On my journey I picked up from the mouth of an old +Highland woman a most remarkable tale concerning the death of +Fian or Fingal. <a name="page219"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 219</span>It differs entirely from the Irish +legends which I have heard on the subject—and is of a truly +mythic character. Since visiting Shetland I have thought a +great deal about the Picts, but cannot come to any satisfactory +conclusion. Were they Celts? were they Laps? Macbeth +could hardly have been a Lap, but then the tradition of the +country that they were a diminutive race, and their name was +Pight or Pict, which I almost think is the same as +petit—pixolo—puj—pigmy. It is a truly +perplexing subject—quite as much so as that of Fingal, and +whether he was a Scotsman or an Irishman I have never been able +to decide, as there has been so much to be said on both sides of +the question. Please present my kind remembrances to Mrs. +Petrie and all friends, particularly Mr. Sheriff Robertson, who +first did me the favour of making me acquainted with +you.—And believe me to remain, dear Sir, ever sincerely +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Thank you for the newspaper—the notice was very kind, +but rather too flattering.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>On the same day that Borrow wrote, Mr. Petrie sent his +acknowledgment of the books, and so the letters crossed:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was very agreeably surprised on opening a +packet, which came to me per steamer ten days ago, to find that +it contained a present from you of your highly interesting and +valuable works <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>Romany Rye</i>. +Coming from any person such books would have been highly prized +by me, and it is therefore specially gratifying to have them +presented to me by their author. Please to accept of my +sincere and heartfelt thanks for your kind remembrance of me and +your valuable gift. May I request you to confer an +additional favour on me by sending me a slip of paper to be +pasted on each of the five volumes, stating that they were +presented to me by you. I would like to hand them down as +an heirloom to my family. I am afraid you will think that I +am a very troublesome acquaintance.</p> +<p>I would have written sooner, but I expected to have had some +information to give you about some of the existing superstitions +of Orkney which might perhaps have some interest for you. I +have, however, been much engrossed with county business during +the last fortnight, and must therefore reserve my account of +these matters till another opportunity.</p> +<p>Mr. Balfour, our principal landowner in Orkney, is just now +writing an article on the ancient laws and customs of the county +to be prefixed to a miscellaneous collection of documents, +chiefly of the sixteenth century. He is taking the +opportunity to give an account of the nature of the tenures by +which the ancient Jarls held the Jarldom, and the manner in which +the odalret became gradually supplanted. I have furnished +him with <a name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +220</span>several of the documents, and am just now going over it +with him. It is for the Bannatyne Club in Edinburgh that he +is preparing it, but I have suggested to him to have it printed +for general sale, as it is very interesting, and contains a great +mass of curious information condensed into a comparatively small +space. Mr. Balfour is very sorry that he had not the +pleasure of meeting you when you were here.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>My last glimpse of George Borrow in Scotland during his +memorable trip of the winter of 1858 is contained in a letter +that I received some time ago from the Rev. J. Wilcock of St. +Ringan’s Manse, Lerwick, which runs as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><i>Nov.</i> 18th, +1903.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—As I see that you +are interested in George Borrow, would you allow me to supply you +with a little notice of him which has not appeared in +print? A friend here—need I explain that this is +written from the capital of the Shetlands?—a friend, I say, +now dead, told me that one day early in the forenoon, during the +winter, he had walked out from the town for a stroll into the +country. About a mile out from the town is a piece of water +called the Loch of Clickimin, on a peninsula, in which is an +ancient (so-called) “Pictish Castle.” His +attention was attracted by a tall, burly stranger, who was +surveying this ancient relic with deep interest. As the +water of the loch was well up about the castle, converting the +plot of ground on which it stood almost altogether into an +island, the stranger took off shoes and stockings and trousers, +and waded all round the building in order to get a thorough view +of it. This procedure was all the more remarkable from the +fact, as above mentioned, that the season was winter. I +believe that there was snow on the ground at the time. My +friend noticed on meeting him again in the course of the same +walk that he was very lightly clothed. He had on a cotton +shirt, a loose open jacket, and on the whole was evidently +indifferent to the rigour of our northern climate at that time of +the year.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In addition to the visit to Belfast in 1866, Borrow was in +Ireland the year following his Scots tour of 1858, that is to say +from July to November, 1859. He went, accompanied by his +wife and daughter, by Holyhead to Dublin, where, as Dr. Knapp has +discovered, they resided at 75 St. Stephen’s Green, +South. Borrow, as was his custom, left his family while he +was on a walking tour which included Connemara and on northward +to the Giant’s Causeway. He was keenly interested in +the two Societies in Dublin engaged upon the study of ancient +Irish literature, and he became <a name="page221"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 221</span>a member of the Ossianic Society in +July of this year. I have a number of Borrow’s +translations from the Irish in my possession, but no notebooks of +his tour on this occasion.</p> +<p>All Irishmen who wish their country to preserve its +individuality should have a kindly feeling for George +Borrow. Opposed as he was to the majority of the people in +religion and in politics, he was about the only Englishman of his +time who took an interest in their national literature, language +and folk-lore. Had he written such another travel book +about Ireland as he wrote about Wales he would certainly have +added to the sum of human pleasure.</p> +<p>I find only one letter to his wife during this Irish +journey:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Ballina</span>, +<span class="smcap">County Mayo</span>, <i>Thursday +Morning</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—I write to +you a few lines. I have now walked 270 miles, and have +passed through Leinster and Connaught. I have suffered a +good deal of hardship, for this is a very different country to +walk in from England. The food is bad and does not agree +with me. I shall be glad to get back, but first of all I +wish to walk to the Causeway. As soon as I have done that I +shall get on railroad and return, as I find there is a railroad +from Londonderry to Dublin. Pray direct to me at Post +Office, Londonderry. I have at present about seven pounds +remaining, perhaps it would bring me back to Dublin; however, to +prevent accidents, have the kindness to enclose me an order on +the Post Office, Londonderry, for five pounds. I expect to +be there next Monday, and to be home by the end of the +week. Glad enough I shall be to get back to you and +Hen. I got your letter at Galway. What you said about +poor Flora was comforting—pray take care of her. +Don’t forget the order. I hope to write in a day or +two a kind of duplicate of this. I send Hen. heath from +Connemara, and also seaweed from a bay of the Atlantic. I +have walked across Ireland; the country people are civil; but I +believe all classes are disposed to join the French. The +idolatry and popery are beyond conception. God bless you, +dearest.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Love to Hen. and poor Flora. (Keep this.)</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +222</span>CHAPTER XXIX<br /> +<span class="smcap">“the romany rye”</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">George Borrow’s</span> three most +important books had all a very interesting history. We have +seen the processes by which <i>The Bible in Spain</i> was built +up from note-books and letters. We have seen further the +most curious apprenticeship by which <i>Lavengro</i> came into +existence. The most distinctly English book—at least +in a certain absence of cosmopolitanism—that Victorian +literature produced was to a great extent written on scraps of +paper during a prolonged Continental tour which included +Constantinople and Budapest. In <i>Lavengro</i> we have +only half a book, the whole work, which included what came to be +published as <i>The Romany Rye</i>, having been intended to +appear in four volumes. The first volume was written in +1843, the second in 1845, after the Continental tour, which is +made use of in the description of the Hungarian, and the third +volume in the years between 1845 and 1848. Then in 1852 +Borrow wrote out an “advertisement” of a fourth +volume, which runs as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>Shortly will be published in one volume. +Price 10s. <i>The Rommany Rye</i>, Being the fourth volume +of <i>Lavengro</i>. By George Borrow, author of <i>The +Bible in Spain</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But this volume did not make an appearance +“shortly.” Its author was far too much offended +with the critics, too disheartened it may be to care to offer +himself again for their gibes. The years rolled on, much of +the time being spent at Yarmouth, a little of it at Oulton. +There was a visit to Cornwall in 1854, and another to Wales in +the same year. The Isle of Man was selected for a holiday +in 1855, and not until 1857 did <i>The Romany Rye</i> +appear. The book was now in two volumes, and we see that +the word Romany had dropped an “m”:</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +223</span>The Romany Rye: A Sequel to +“Lavengro.” By George Borrow, author of +“The Bible in Spain,” “The Gypsies of +Spain,” etc., “Fear God, and take your own +part.” In Two Volumes. London: John Murray, +Albemarle Street, 1857.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We are introduced once more to many old favourites, to +Petulengro, to the Man in Black, and above all to Isopel +Berners. The incidents of <i>Lavengro</i> are supposed to +have taken place between the 24th May, 1825, and the 18th July of +that year. In <i>The Romany Rye</i> the incidents +apparently occur between 19th July and 3rd August, 1825. In +the opinion of that most eminent of gypsy experts, Mr. John +Sampson, the whole of the episodes in the five volumes occurred +in seventy-two days. Mr. Sampson agrees with Dr. Knapp in +locating Mumper’s Dingle in Momber or Monmer Lane, +Willenhall, Shropshire. The dingle has disappeared—it +is now occupied by the Monmer Lane Ironworks—but you may +still find Dingle Bridge and Dingle Lane. The book has +added to the glamour of gypsydom, and to the interest in the +gypsies which we all derive from <i>Lavengro</i>, but Mr. Sampson +makes short work of Borrow’s gypsy learning on its +philological side. “No gypsy,” he says, +“ever uses <i>chal</i> or <i>engro</i> as a separate word, +or talks of the <i>dukkering dook</i> or of <i>penning a +dukkerin</i>.” “Borrow’s genders are +perversely incorrect”; and “Romany”—a +word which can never get out of our language, let philologists +say what they will—should have been +“Romani.” +“‘Haarsträubend’ is the fitting +epithet,” says Mr. Sampson, “which an Oriental +scholar, Professor Richard Pischel of Berlin, finds to describe +Borrow’s etymologies.” But all this is very +unimportant, and the book remains in the whole of its forty-seven +chapters not one whit less a joy to us than does its predecessor +<i>Lavengro</i>, with its visions of gypsies and highwaymen and +boxers.</p> +<p>But then there is its “Appendix.” That +appendix of eleven petulant chapters undoubtedly did Borrow harm +in his day and generation. Now his fame is too great, and +his genius too firmly established for these strange dissertations +on men and things to offer anything but amusement or +edification. They reveal, for example, the singularly +non-literary character of this great man of letters. +Much—too much—has been made of his dislike of Walter +Scott and his writings. As a matter of fact Borrow tells us +that he <a name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +224</span>admired Scott both as a prose writer and as a +poet. “Since Scott he had read no modern +writer. Scott was greater than Homer,” he told +Frances Cobbe. But he takes occasion to condemn his +“Charlie o’er the water nonsense,” and declares +that his love of and sympathy with certain periods and incidents +have made for sympathy with what he always calls +“Popery.” Well, looking at the matter from an +entirely opposite point of view, Cardinal Newman declared that +the writings of Scott had had no inconsiderable influence in +directing his mind towards the Church of Rome.</p> +<blockquote><p>During the first quarter of this century a great +poet was raised up in the North, who, whatever were his defects, +has contributed by his works, in prose and verse, to prepare men +for some closer and more practical approximation to Catholic +truth. The general need of something deeper and more +attractive than what had offered itself elsewhere may be +considered to have led to his popularity; and by means of his +popularity he re-acted on his readers, stimulating their mental +thirst, feeding their hopes, setting before them visions, which, +when once seen, are not easily forgotten, and silently +indoctrinating them with nobler ideas, which might afterwards be +appealed to as first principles.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And thus we see that Borrow had a certain prescience in this +matter. But Borrow, in good truth, cared little for modern +English literature. His heart was entirely with the poets +of other lands—the Scandinavians and the Kelts. In +Virgil he apparently took little interest, nor in the great +poetry of Greece, Rome and England, although we find a reference +to Theocritus and Dante in his books. Fortunately for his +fame he had read <i>Gil Blas</i>, <i>Don Quixote</i>, and, above +all, <i>Robinson Crusoe</i>, which last book, first read as a boy +of six, coloured his whole life. Defoe and Fielding and +Bunyan were the English authors to whom he owed most. Of +Byron he has quaint things to say, and of Wordsworth things that +are neither quaint nor wise. We recall the man in the field +in the twenty-second chapter of <i>The Romany Rye</i> who used +Wordsworth’s poetry as a soporific. And throughout +his life Borrow’s position towards his contemporaries in +literature was ever contemptuous. He makes no mention of +Carlyle or Ruskin or Matthew Arnold, and they in their turn, it +may be added, make no mention of him or of his works. +Thackeray he snubbed on one of the <a name="page225"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 225</span>few occasions they met, and Browning +and Tennyson were alike unrevealed to him. Borrow indeed +stands quite apart from the great literature of a period in which +he was a striking and individual figure. Lacking +appreciation in this sphere of work, he wrote of “the +contemptible trade of author,” counting it less creditable +than that of a jockey.</p> +<p>But all this is a digression from the progress of our +narrative of the advent of <i>The Romany Rye</i>. The book +was published in an edition of 1000 copies in April, 1857, and it +took thirty years to dispose of 3750 copies. Not more than +2000 copies of his book were sold in Great Britain during the +twenty-three remaining years of Borrow’s life. What +wonder that he was embittered by his failure! The reviews +were far from favourable, although Mr. Elwin wrote not unkindly +in an article in the <i>Quarterly Review</i> called “Roving +Life in England.” No critic, however, was as severe +as <i>The Athenæum</i>, which had called <i>Lavengro</i> +“balderdash” and referred to <i>The Romany Rye</i> as +the “literary dough” of an author “whose +dullest gypsy preparation we have now read.” In later +years, when, alas! it was too late, <i>The Athenæum</i>, +through the eloquent pen of Theodore Watts, made good +amends. But William Bodham Donne wrote to Borrow with +adequate enthusiasm:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">12 <span class="smcap">St. +James’s Square</span>,<i> May</i> 24<i>th</i>, 1857.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I received your +book some days ago, but would not write to you before I was able +to read it, at least once, since it is needless, I hope, for me +to assure you that I am truly gratified by the gift.</p> +<p>Time to read it I could not find for some days after it was +sent hither, for what with winding up my affairs here, the +election of my successor, preparations for flitting, etc., etc., +I have been incessantly occupied with matters needful to be done, +but far less agreeable to do than reading <i>The Romany +Rye</i>. All I have said of <i>Lavengro</i> to yourself +personally, or to others publicly or privately, I say again of +<i>The Romany Rye</i>. Everywhere in it the hand of the +master is stamped boldly and deeply. You join the chisel of +Dante with the pencil of Defoe.</p> +<p>I am rejoiced to see so many works announced of yours, for you +have more that is worth knowing to tell than any one I am +acquainted with. For your coming progeny’s sake I am +disposed to wish you had worried the literary-craft less. +Brand and score them never so much, they will not turn and +repent, <a name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +226</span>but only spit the more froth and venom. I am +reckoning on my emancipation with an eagerness hardly proper at +my years, but I cannot help it, so thoroughly do I hate London, +and so much do I love the country. I have taken a house, or +rather a cottage, at Walton on Thames, just on the skirts of +Weybridge, and there I hope to see you before I come into +Norfolk, for I am afraid my face will not be turned eastward for +many weeks if not months.</p> +<p>Remember me kindly to Mrs. Borrow and Miss Clarke, and believe +me, my dear Sir, very truly and thankfully yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Wm. B. +Donne</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And perhaps a letter from the then Town Clerk of Oxford is +worth reproducing here:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Town +Clerk’s Office</span>, <span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, +19<i>th</i> <i>August</i> 1857.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—We have, attached to our +Corporation, an ancient jocular court composed of 13 of the poor +old freemen who attend the elections and have a king who sits +attired in scarlet with a crown and sentences interlopers +(non-freemen) to be cold-burned, <i>i.e.</i> a bucket or so of +water introduced to the offender’s sleeve by means of the +city pump; but this infliction is of course generally commuted by +a small pecuniary compensation.</p> +<p>They call themselves “Slaveonians” or +“Sclavonians.” The only notice we have of them +in the city records is by the name of “Slovens +Hall.” Reading <i>Romany Rye</i> I notice your +account of the Sclaves and venture to trouble you with this, and +to enquire whether you think that the Sclaves might be connected +through the Saxons with the ancient municipal institutions of +this country. You are no doubt aware that Oxford is one of +the most ancient Saxon towns, being a royal bailiwick and +fortified before the Conquest,—Yours truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George P. +Hester</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In spite of contemporary criticism, <i>The Romany Rye</i> is a +great book, or rather it contains the concluding chapters of a +great book. Sequels are usually proclaimed to be inferior +to their predecessors. But <i>The Romany Rye</i> is not a +sequel. It is part of <i>Lavengro</i>, and is therefore +Borrow’s most imperishable monument.</p> +<h2><a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +227</span>CHAPTER XXX<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edward Fitzgerald</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Edward FitzGerald</span> once declared +that he was about the only friend with whom Borrow had never +quarrelled. There was probably no reason for this +exceptional amity other than the “genius for +friendship” with which FitzGerald has been rightly +credited. There were certainly, however, many points of +likeness between the two men which might have kept them at +peace. Both had written copiously and out of all proportion +to the public demand for their work. Both revelled in +translation. FitzGerald’s eight volumes in a +magnificent American edition consist mainly of translations from +various tongues which no man presumably now reads. All the +world has read and will long continue to read his translation or +paraphrase of Omar Khayyám’s +<i>Rubáiyát</i>. “Old Fitz,” as +his friends called him, lives by that, although his letters are +among the best in literature. Borrow wrote four books that +will live, but had publishers been amenable he would have +published forty, and all as unsaleable as the major part of +FitzGerald’s translations. Both men were Suffolk +squires, and yet delighted more in the company of a class other +than their own, FitzGerald of boatmen, Borrow of gypsies; both +were counted eccentrics in their respective villages. +Perhaps alone among the great Victorian authors they lived to be +old without receiving in their lives any popular recognition of +their great literary achievements, if we except the momentary +recognition of <i>The Bible in Spain</i>. But FitzGerald +had a more cultivated mind than Borrow. He loved literature +and literary men whilst Borrow did not. His criticism of +books is of the best, and his friendships with bookmen are among +the most interesting in literary history. “A +solitary, shy, kind-hearted man,” was the verdict upon him +of the frequently censorious Carlyle. When Anne Thackeray +asked her father which of his friends he had loved <a +name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 228</span>best, he +answered “Dear old Fitz, to be sure,” and Tennyson +would have said the same. Borrow had none of these gifts as +a letter-writer and no genius for friendship. The charm of +his style, so indisputable in his best work, is absent from his +letters; and his friends were alienated one after another. +Borrow’s undisciplined intellect and narrow upbringing were +a curse to him, from the point of view of his own personal +happiness, although they helped him to achieve exactly the work +for which he was best fitted. Borrow’s acquaintance +with FitzGerald was commenced by the latter, who, in July, 1853, +sent from Boulge Hall, Suffolk, to Oulton Hall, in the same +county, his recently published volume <i>Six Dramas of +Calderon</i>. He apologises for making so free with +“a great man; but, as usual, I shall feel least fear before +a man like yourself who both do fine things in your own language +and are deep read in those of others.” He also refers +to “our common friend Donne,” so that it is probable +that they had met at Donne’s house. The next letter, +also published by Dr. Knapp, that FitzGerald writes to Borrow is +dated from his home in Great Portland Street in 1856. He +presents his friend with a Turkish Dictionary, and announces his +coming marriage to Miss Barton, “Our united ages amount to +96!—a dangerous experiment on both sides”—as it +proved. The first reference to Borrow in the FitzGerald +<i>Letters</i> issued by his authorised publishers is addressed +to Professor Cowell in January, 1857:</p> +<blockquote><p>I was with Borrow a week ago at Donne’s, and +also at Yarmouth three months ago: he is well, but not yet agreed +with Murray. He read me a long translation he had made from +the Turkish: which I could not admire, and his taste becomes +stranger than ever.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But Borrow’s genius if not his taste was always admired +by FitzGerald, as the following letter among my Borrow Papers +clearly indicates. Borrow had published <i>The Romany +Rye</i> at the beginning of May:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton Hall</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Goldington +Hall</span>, <span class="smcap">Bedford</span>, <i>May</i> +24/57.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—Your Book was +put into my hands a week ago just as I was leaving London; so I +e’en carried it down <a name="page229"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 229</span>here, and have been reading it under +the best Circumstances:—at such a Season—in the +Fields as they now are—and in company with a Friend I love +best in the world—who scarce ever reads a Book, but knows +better than I do what they are made of from a hint.</p> +<p>Well, lying in a Paddock of his, I have been travelling along +with you to Horncastle, etc.,—in a very delightful way for +the most part; something as I have travelled, and love to travel, +with Fielding, Cervantes, and Robinson Crusoe—and a smack +of all these there seems to me, with something beside, in your +book. But, as will happen in Travel, there were some spots +I didn’t like so well—didn’t like <i>at +all</i>: and sometimes wished to myself that I, a poor “Man +of Taste,” had been at your Elbow (who are a Man of much +more than Taste) to divert you, or get you by some means to pass +lightlier over some places. But you wouldn’t have +heeded me, and won’t heed me, and <i>must</i> go your own +way, I think—And in the parts I least like, I am yet +thankful for honest, daring, and original Thought and Speech such +as one hardly gets in these mealy-mouthed days. It was very +kind of you to send me your book.</p> +<p>My Wife is already established at a House called +“Albert’s Villa,” or some such name, at +Gorlestone—but a short walk from you: and I am to find +myself there in a few days. So I shall perhaps tell you +more of my thoughts ere long. Now I shall finish this large +Sheet with a Tetrastich of one Omar Khayyam who was an Epicurean +Infidel some 500 years ago:</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p229b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"A tetrastich of Omar Khayyám" +title= +"A tetrastich of Omar Khayyám" +src="images/p229s.jpg" /> +</a> <a name="citation229"></a><a href="#footnote229" +class="citation">[229]</a></p> +<p style="text-align: right">and am yours very truly,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edward FitzGerald</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>In a +letter to Cowell about the same time—June 5, +1857—FitzGerald writes that he is about to set out for +Gorleston, Great Yarmouth:</p> +<blockquote><p>Within hail almost lives George Borrow, who has +lately published, and given me, two new volumes of Lavengro +called <i>Romany Rye</i>, with some excellent things, and some +very bad (as I have made bold to write to him—how shall I +face him!) You would not like the book at all I think.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was Cowell, it will be remembered, who introduced +FitzGerald to the Persian poet Omar, and afterwards regretted the +act. The first edition of <i>The Rubáiyát of +Omar Khayyám</i> appeared two years later, in 1859. +Edward Byles Cowell was born in Ipswich in 1826, and he was +educated at the Ipswich Grammar School. It was in the +library attached to the Ipswich Library Institution that Cowell +commenced the study of Oriental languages. In 1842 he +entered the business of his father and grandfather as a merchant +and maltster. When only twenty years of age he commenced +his friendship with Edward FitzGerald, and their correspondence +may be found in Dr. Aldis Wright’s <i>FitzGerald +Correspondence</i>. In 1850 he left his brother to carry on +the business and entered himself at Magdalen Hall, Oxford, where +he passed six years. At intervals he read Greek with +FitzGerald and, later, Persian. FitzGerald commenced to +learn this last language, which was to bring him fame, when he +was forty-four years of age. In 1856 Cowell was appointed +to a Professorship of English History at Calcutta, and from there +he sent FitzGerald a copy of the manuscript of <i>Omar +Khayyám</i>, afterwards lent by FitzGerald to +Borrow. Much earlier than this—in +1853—FitzGerald had written to Borrow:</p> +<blockquote><p>At Ipswich, indeed, is a man whom you would like +to know, I think, and who would like to know you; one Edward +Cowell: a great scholar, if I may judge. . . . Should you +go to Ipswich do look for him! a great deal more worth looking +for (I speak with no sham modesty, I am sure) than +yours,—E. F. G.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Twenty-six years afterwards—in 1879—we find +FitzGerald writing to Dr. Aldis Wright to the effect that Cowell +had been seized with “a wish to learn Welsh under George +Borrow”:</p> +<blockquote><p>And as he would not venture otherwise, I gave him +a Note of Introduction, and off he went, and had an hour with the +<a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 231</span>old Boy, +who was hard of hearing and shut up in a stuffy room, but cordial +enough; and Cowell was glad to have seen the Man, and tell him +that it was his <i>Wild Wales</i> which first inspired a thirst +for this language into the Professor.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There is one short letter from FitzGerald to Borrow in Dr. +Aldis Wright’s <i>FitzGerald Letters</i>. It is dated +June, 1857, and from it we learn that FitzGerald lent Borrow the +Calcutta manuscript of <i>Omar Khayyám</i>, upon which he +based his own immortal translation, and from a letter to W. H. +Thompson in 1861 we learn that Cowell, who had inspired the +writing of FitzGerald’s <i>Omar Khayyám</i>, Donne +and Borrow were the only three friends to whom he had sent copies +of his “peccadilloes in verse” as he calls his +remarkable translation, and this two years after it was +published. A letter, dated July 6, 1857, asks for the +return of FitzGerald’s copy of the Ouseley manuscript of +<i>Omar Khayyám</i>, Borrow having clearly already +returned the Calcutta manuscript. This letter concludes on +a pathetic note:</p> +<blockquote><p>My old Parson Crabbe is bowing down under +epileptic fits, or something like, and I believe his brave old +white head will soon sink into the village church sward. +Why, <i>our</i> time seems coming. Make way, gentlemen!</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow comes more than once into the story of +FitzGerald’s great translation of <i>Omar +Khayyám</i>, which in our day has caused so great a +sensation, and deserves all the enthusiasm that it has excited as +the</p> +<blockquote><p>“. . . golden Eastern lay,<br /> +Than which I know no version done<br /> +In English more divinely well,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>to quote Tennyson’s famous eulogy. Cowell, to his +after regret, for he had none of FitzGerald’s <i>dolce far +niente</i> paganism, had sent FitzGerald from Calcutta, where he +was, the manuscript of Omar Khayyam’s +<i>Rubáiyát</i> in Persian, and FitzGerald was +captured by it. Two years later, as we know, he produced +the translation, which was so much more than a translation. +“Omar breathes a sort of consolation to me,” he wrote +to Cowell. “Borrow is greatly delighted with your MS. +of Omar which I showed <a name="page232"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 232</span>him,” he says in another +letter to Cowell (23rd June, 1857), “delighted at the +terseness so unusual in Oriental verse.”</p> +<p>The next two letters by FitzGerald from my Borrow Papers are +of the year 1859, the year of the first publication of the +<i>Rubáiyát</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">10 <span class="smcap">Marine +Parade</span>, <span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Borrow</span>,—I have come +here with three nieces to give them sea air and change. +They are all perfectly quiet, sensible, and unpretentious girls; +so as, if you will come over here any day or days, we will find +you board and bed too, for a week longer at any rate. There +is a good room below, which we now only use for meals, but which +you and I can be quite at our sole ease in. Won’t you +come?</p> +<p>I purpose (and indeed have been some while intentioning) to go +over to Yarmouth to look for you. But I write this note in +hope it may bring you hither also.</p> +<p>Donne has got his soldier boy home from +India—Freddy—I always thought him a very nice fellow +indeed. No doubt life is happy enough to all of them just +now. Donne has been on a visit to the Highlands—which +seems to have pleased him—I have got an MS. of Bahram and +his Seven Castles (Persian), which I have not yet cared to look +far into. Will you? It is short, fairly transcribed, +and of some repute in its own country, I hear. Cowell sent +it me from Calcutta; but it almost requires <i>his</i> company to +make one devote one’s time to Persian, when, with what +remains of one’s old English eyes, one can read the Odyssey +and Shakespeare.</p> +<p>With compliments to the ladies, believe me, Yours very +truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Edward +FitzGerald</span>.</p> +<p>I didn’t know you were back from your usual summer tour +till Mr. Cobb told my sister lately of having seen you.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bath +House</span>, <span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span>, +<i>October</i> 10/59.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Borrow</span>,—This time last +year I was here and wrote to ask about you. You were gone +to Scotland. Well, where are you now? As I also said +last year: “If you be in Yarmouth and have any mind to see +me I will go over some day; or here I am if you will come +here. And I am quite alone. As it is I would bus it +to Yarmouth but I don’t know if you and yours be there at +all, nor if there, whereabout. If I don’t hear at all +I shall suppose you are not there, on one of your excursions, or +not wanting to be rooted out; a condition I too well +understand. <a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +233</span>I was at Gorleston some months ago for some while; just +after losing my greatest friend, the Bedfordshire lad who was +crushed to death, coming home from hunting, his horse falling on +him. He survived indeed two months, and I had been to bid +him eternal adieu, so had no appetite for anything but +rest—rest—rest. I have just seen his widow off +from here. With kind regards to the ladies, Yours very +truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Edward +FitzGerald</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In a letter to George Crabbe the third, and the grandson of +the poet, in 1862, FitzGerald tells him that he has just been +reading Borrow’s <i>Wild Wales</i>, “which <i>I</i> +like well because I can hear him talking it. But I +don’t know if others will like it.” “No +one writes better English than Borrow in general,” he +says. But FitzGerald, as a lover of style, is vexed with +some of Borrow’s phrases, and instances one: +“‘The scenery was beautiful <i>to a +degree</i>.’ <i>What</i> degree? When did this +vile phrase arise?” The criticism is just, but +Borrow, in common with many other great English authors whose +work will live, was not uniformly a good stylist. He has +many lamentable fallings away from the ideals of the +stylist. But he will, by virtue of a wonderful +individuality, outlive many a good stylist. His four great +books are immortal, and one of them is <i>Wild Wales</i>.</p> +<p>We have a glimpse of FitzGerald in the following letter in my +possession, by the friend who had introduced him to Borrow, +William Bodham Donne:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">40 <span class="smcap">Weymouth +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Portland Place</span>, <span +class="smcap">W.</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 28/62.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Borrow</span>,—Many thanks +for the copy of <i>Wild Wales</i> reserved for and sent to me by +Mr. R. Cooke. Before this copy arrived I had obtained one +from the London Library and read it through, not exactly <i>stans +pede in uno</i>, but certainly almost at a stretch. I could +not indeed lay it down, it interested me so much. It is one +of the very best records of home travel, if indeed so strange a +country as Wales is can properly be called <i>home</i>, I have +ever met with.</p> +<p>Immediately on closing the third volume I secured a few pages +in <i>Fraser’s Magazine</i> for <i>Wild Wales</i>, for +though you do not stand in need of my aid, yet my notice will not +do you a mischief, and some of the reviewers of <i>Lavengro</i> +were, I recollect, shocking blockheads, misinterpreting the +letter and <a name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +234</span>misconceiving the spirit of that work. I have, +since we met in Burlington Arcade, been on a visit to +FitzGerald. He is in better spirits by far than when I saw +him about the same time in last year. He has his pictures +and his chattels about him, and has picked up some acquaintance +among the merchants and mariners of Woodbridge, who, although far +below his level, are yet better company than the two old skippers +he was consorting with in 1861. They—his present +friends—came in of an evening, and sat and drank and +talked, and I enjoyed their talk very much, since they discussed +of what they understood, which is more than I can say generally +of the fine folks I occasionally (very occasionally now) meet in +London. I should have said more about your book, only I +wish to keep it for print: and you don’t need to be told by +me that it is very good.—With best regards to Mrs. Borrow +and Miss Clarke, I am, yours ever truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">W. B. +Donne</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The last letter from FitzGerald to Borrow is dated many years +after the correspondence I have here printed. From it we +gather that there had been no correspondence in the +interval. FitzGerald writes from Little Grange, Woodbridge, +in January, 1875, to say that he had received a message from +Borrow that he would be glad to see him at Oulton. “I +think the more of it,” says FitzGerald, “because I +imagine, from what I have heard, that you have slunk away from +human company as much as I have.” He hints that they +might not like one another so well after a fifteen years’ +separation. He declares with infinite pathos that he has +now severed himself from all old ties, has refused the +invitations of old college friends and old school-fellows. +To him there was no companionship possible for his declining days +other than his reflections and verses. It is a fine letter, +filled with that graciousness of spirit that was ever a trait in +FitzGerald’s noble nature. The two men never met +again. Borrow died in 1881, FitzGerald two years later.</p> +<h2><a name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +235</span>CHAPTER XXXI<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Wild Wales</span>”</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> year 1854 was an adventurous +one in Borrow’s life, for he, so essentially a Celt, had in +that year two interesting experiences of the “Celtic +Fringe.” He spent the first months of the year in +Cornwall, as we have seen, and from July to November he was in +Wales. That tour he recorded in pencilled note-books, four +of which are in the Knapp Collection in New York, and are duly +referred to in Dr. Knapp’s biography, and two of which are +in my possession. In addition to this I have the complete +manuscript of <i>Wild Wales</i> in Borrow’s handwriting, +and many variants of it in countless, carefully written +pages. Therein lie the possibilities of a singularly +interesting edition of <i>Wild Wales</i> should opportunity offer +for its publication. When I examine the manuscript, with +its demonstration of careful preparation, I do not wonder that it +took Borrow eight years—from 1854 to 1862—to prepare +this book for the press. Assuredly we recognise here, as in +all his books, that he realised Carlyle’s definition of +genius—“the transcendent capacity of taking +trouble—first of all.”</p> +<p>It was on 27th July, 1854, that Borrow, his wife and her +daughter, Henrietta Clarke, set out on their journey to North +Wales. Dr. Knapp prints two kindly letters from Mrs. Borrow +to her mother-in-law written from Llangollen on this tour. +“We are in a lovely quiet spot,” she writes, +“Dear George goes out exploring the mountains. . . . +The poor here are humble, simple, and good.” In the +second letter Mrs. Borrow records that her husband “keeps a +<i>daily</i> journal of all that goes on, so that he can make a +most amusing book in a month.” Yet Borrow took eight +years to make it. The failure of <i>The Romany Rye</i>, +which was due for publication before <i>Wild Wales</i>, accounts +for this, and perhaps also the disappointment that another book, +long since ready, did not find a publisher. In the <a +name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 236</span>letter from +which I have quoted Mary Borrow tells Anne Borrow that her son +will, she expects at Christmas, publish <i>The Romany Rye</i>, +“together with his poetry in all the European +languages.” This last book had been on his hands for +many a day, and indeed in <i>Wild Wales</i> he writes of “a +mountain of unpublished translations” of which this book, +duly advertised in <i>The Romany Rye</i>, was a part.</p> +<p>After an ascent of Snowdon arm in arm with Henrietta, Mrs. +Borrow remaining behind, Borrow left his wife and daughter to +find their way back to Yarmouth, and continued his journey, all +of which is most picturesquely described in <i>Wild +Wales</i>. Before that book was published, however, Borrow +was to visit the Isle of Man, Scotland, and Ireland. He was +to publish <i>The Romany Rye</i> (1857); to see his mother die +(1858); and to issue his very limited edition of <i>The Sleeping +Bard</i> (1860); and, lastly, to remove to Brompton (1860). +It was at the end of the year 1862 that <i>Wild Wales</i> was +published. It had been written during the two years +immediately following the tour in Wales, in 1855 and 1856. +It had been announced as ready for publication in 1857, but +doubtless the chilly reception of <i>The Romany Rye</i> in that +year, of which we have written, had made Borrow lukewarm as to +venturing once more before the public. The public was again +irresponsive. <i>The Cornhill Magazine</i>, then edited by +Thackeray, declared the book to be “tiresome +reading.” The <i>Spectator</i> reviewer was more +kindly, but nowhere was there any enthusiasm. Only a +thousand copies were sold, and a second edition did not appear +until 1865, and not another until seven years after +Borrow’s death. Yet the author had the encouragement +that comes from kindly correspondents. Here, for example, +is a letter that could not but have pleased him:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">West +Hill Lodge</span>, <span class="smcap">Highgate</span>,<br /> +<i>Dec.</i> 29<i>th</i>, 1862.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—We have had a great +Christmas pleasure this year—the reading of your <i>Wild +Wales</i>, which has taken us so deliciously into the lovely +fresh scenery and life of that pleasant mountain-land. My +husband and myself made a little walking tour over some of your +ground in North Wales this year; my daughter and her uncle, +Richard Howitt, did the same; and we have been ourselves +collecting material for a work, the scenes of which will be laid +amidst some of our and your favourite mountains. <a +name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span>But the +object of my writing was not to tell you this; but after assuring +you of the pleasure your work has given us—to say also that +in one respect it has tantalised us. You have told over and +over again to fascinated audiences, Lope de Vega’s ghost +story, but still leave the poor reader at the end of the book +longing to hear it in vain.</p> +<p>May I ask you, therefore, to inform us in which of Lope de +Vega’s numerous works this same ghost story is to be +found? We like ghost stories, and to a certain extent +believe in them, we deserve therefore to know the best ghost +story in the world.</p> +<p>Wishing for you, your wife and your Henrietta, all the +compliments of the season in the best and truest sense of +expression.—I am, dear sir, yours sincerely,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Mary +Howitt</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The reference to Lope de Vega’s ghost story is due to +the fact that in the fifty-fifth chapter of <i>Wild Wales</i>, +Borrow, after declaring that Lope de Vega was “one of the +greatest geniuses that ever lived,” added, that among his +tales may be found “the best ghost story in the +world.” Dr. Knapp found the story in Borrow’s +handwriting among the manuscripts that came to him, and gives it +in full. In good truth it is but moderately interesting, +although Borrow seems to have told it to many audiences when in +Wales, but this perhaps provides the humour of the +situation. It seems clear that Borrow contemplated +publishing Lope de Vega’s ghost story in a later +book. We note here, indeed, a letter of a much later date +in which Borrow refers to the possibility of a supplement to +<i>Wild Wales</i>, the only suggestion of such a book that I have +seen, although there is plenty of new manuscript in my Borrow +collection to have made such a book possible had Borrow been +encouraged by his publisher and the public to write it.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +J. Evan Williams</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">22 <span class="smcap">Hereford +Square</span>, <span class="smcap">Brompton</span>, <i>Decr.</i> +31, 1863.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I have received +your letter and thank you for the kind manner in which you are +pleased to express yourself concerning me. Now for your +questions. With respect to Lope De Vega’s ghost +story, I beg to say that I am thinking of publishing a supplement +to my <i>Wild Wales</i> in which, amongst other things, I shall +give a full account of the tale and point out where it is to be +found. You cannot imagine the number of letters I receive +on the subject of that ghost story. With regard to the +Sclavonian languages, I wish to observe that they are all well +deserving of study. The Servian and Bohemian contain a +great many old <a name="page238"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +238</span>traditionary songs, and the latter possesses a curious +though not very extensive prose literature. The Polish has, +I may say, been rendered immortal by the writings of Mickiewicz, +whose ‘Conrad Wallenrod’ is probably the most +remarkable poem of the present century. The Russian, +however, is the most important of all the Sclavonian tongues, not +on account of its literature but because it is spoken by fifty +millions of people, it being the dominant speech from the Gulf of +Finland to the frontiers of China. There is a remarkable +similarity both in sound and sense between many Russian and Welsh +words, for example “tcheló” is the Russian for +forehead, “tal” is Welsh for the same; +“iasnüy” (neuter “iasnoe”) is the +Russian for clear or radiant, “iesin” the Welsh, so +that if it were grammatical in Russian to place the adjective +after the noun as is the custom in Welsh, the Welsh compound +“Taliesin” (Radiant forehead) might be rendered in +Russian by “Tchelōiasnoe,” which would be +wondrously like the Welsh name; unfortunately, however, Russian +grammar would compel any one wishing to Russianise +“Taliesin” to say not “Tchelōiasnoe” +but “Iasnoetchelō.”—Yours truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Another letter that Borrow owed to his <i>Wild Wales</i> may +well have place here. It will be recalled that in his +fortieth chapter he waxes enthusiastic over Lewis Morris, the +Welsh bard, who was born in Anglesey in 1700 and died in +1765. Morris’s great-grandson, Sir Lewis Morris +(1833–1907), the author of the once popular <i>Epic of +Hades</i>, was twenty-nine years of age when he wrote to Borrow +as follows:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Reform +Club</span>. <i>Dec.</i> 29, 1862.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I have just finished +reading your work on <i>Wild Wales</i>, and cannot refrain from +writing to thank you for the very lifelike picture of the Welsh +people, North and South, which, unlike other Englishmen, you have +managed to give us. To ordinary Englishmen the language is +of course an insurmountable bar to any real knowledge of the +people, and the result is that within six hours of Paddington or +Euston Square is a country nibbled at superficially by droves of +holiday-makers, but not really better known than Asia +Minor. I wish it were possible to get rid of all obstacles +which stand in the way of the development of the Welsh people and +the Welsh intellect. In the meantime every book which like +yours tends to lighten the thick darkness which seems to hang +round Wales deserves the acknowledgments of every true +Welshman. I am, perhaps, more especially called upon to +express my thanks for the very high terms in which you speak of +my great-grandfather, Lewis Morris. I believe you <a +name="page239"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 239</span>have not +said a word more than he deserves. Some of the facts which +you mention with regard to him were unknown to me, and as I take +a very great interest in everything relating to my ancestor I +venture to ask you whether you can indicate any source of +knowledge with regard to him and his wife, other than those which +I have at present—viz., an old number of the <i>Cambrian +Register</i> and some notices of him in the <i>Gentleman’s +Magazine</i>, 1760–70. There is also a letter of his +in Lord Teignmouth’s <i>Life of Sir William Jones</i> in +which he claims kindred with that great scholar. Many of +his manuscript poems and much correspondence are now in the +library of the British Museum, most of them I regret to say a +sealed book to one who like myself had yet to learn Welsh. +But I am not the less anxious to learn all that can be +ascertained about my great ancestor. I should say that two +of his brothers, Richard and William, were eminent Welsh +scholars.</p> +<p>With apologies for addressing you so unceremoniously, and with +renewed thanks, I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Lewis +Morris</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>An interesting letter to Borrow from another once popular +writer belongs to this period:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +George Borrow</span>, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">The +“Press” Office</span>, <span +class="smcap">Strand</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Westminster</span>, <i>Thursday</i>.</p> +<p>One who has read and delighted in everything Mr. Borrow has +yet published ventures to say how great has been his delight in +reading <i>Wild Wales</i>. No philologist or linguist, I am +yet an untiring walker and versifier: and really I think that few +things are pleasanter than to walk and to versify. Also, +well do I love good ale, natural drink of the English. If I +could envy anything, it is your linguistic faculty, which unlocks +to you the hearts of the unknown races of these +islands—unknown, I mean, as to their real feelings and +habits, to ordinary Englishmen—and your still higher +faculty of describing your adventures in the purest and raciest +English of the day. I send you a Danish daily journal, +which you may not have seen. Once a week it issues articles +in English. How beautiful (but of course not new to you) is +the legend of Queen Dagmar, given in this number! A noble +race, the Danes: glad am I to see their blood about to refresh +that which runs in the royal veins of England. Sorry and +ashamed to see a Russell bullying and insulting them.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Mortimer +Collins</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>How greatly Borrow was disappointed at the comparative failure +of <i>Wild Wales</i> may be gathered from a <a +name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 240</span>curt +message to his publisher which I find among his papers:</p> +<blockquote><p>Mr. Borrow has been applied to by a country +bookseller, who is desirous of knowing why there is not another +edition of <i>Wild Wales</i>, as he cannot procure a copy of the +book, for which he receives frequent orders. That it was +not published in a cheap form as soon as the edition of 1862 was +exhausted has caused much surprise.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow, it will be remembered, left Wales at Chepstow, as +recorded in the hundred and ninth and final chapter of <i>Wild +Wales</i>, “where I purchased a first class ticket, and +ensconcing myself in a comfortable carriage, was soon on my way +to London, where I arrived at about four o’clock in the +morning.” In the following letter to his wife there +is a slight discrepancy, of no importance, as to time:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">53a Pall +Mall</span>, <span class="smcap">London</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Wife Carreta</span>,—I arrived +here about five o’clock this morning—time I saw +you. I have walked about 250 miles. I walked the +whole way from the North to the South—then turning to the +East traversed Glamorganshire and the county of Monmouth, and +came out at Chepstow. My boots were worn up by the time I +reached Swansea, and was obliged to get them new soled and +welted. I have seen wonderful mountains, waterfalls, and +people. On the other side of the Black Mountains I met a +cartload of gypsies; they were in a dreadful rage and were +abusing the country right and left. My last ninety miles +proved not very comfortable, there was so much rain. Pray +let me have some money by Monday as I am nearly without any, as +you may well suppose, for I was three weeks on my journey. +I left you on a Thursday, and reached Chepstow yesterday, +Thursday, evening. I hope you, my mother, and Hen. are +well. I have seen Murray and Cooke.—God bless you, +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>(Keep this.)</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Before Borrow put the finishing touches to <i>Wild Wales</i> +he repeated his visit of 1854. This was in 1857, the year +of <i>The Romany Rye</i>. Dr. Knapp records the fact +through a letter to Mr. John Murray from Shrewsbury, in which he +discusses the possibility of a second edition of <i>The Romany +Rye</i>: “I have lately been taking a walk in Wales of +upwards <a name="page241"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +241</span>of five hundred miles,” he writes. This +tour lasted from August 23rd to October 5th. I find four +letters to his wife that were written in this holiday. He +does not seem to have made any use of this second tour in his +<i>Wild Wales</i>, although I have abundance of manuscript notes +upon it in my possession.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Tenby</span>, +<i>Tuesday</i>, 25.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—Since +writing to you I have been rather unwell and was obliged to +remain two days at Sandypool. The weather has been horribly +hot and affected my head and likewise my sight slightly; moreover +one of the shoes hurt my foot. I came to this place to-day +and shall presently leave it for Pembroke on my way back, I shall +write to you from there. I shall return by Cardigan. +What I want you to do is to write to me directed to the post +office, Cardigan (in Cardiganshire), and either inclose a post +office order for five pounds or an order from Lloyd and Co. on +the banker of that place for the same sum; but at any rate write +or I shall not know what to do. I would return by railroad, +but in that event I must go to London, for there are no railroads +from here to Shrewsbury. I wish moreover to see a little +more. Just speak to the banker and don’t lose any +time. Send letter, and either order in it, or say that I +can get it at the bankers. I hope all is well. God +bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Trecastle</span>, <span +class="smcap">Brecknockshire</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">South Wales</span>, <i>August</i> +17<i>th</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I write to you +a few words from this place; to-morrow I am going to Llandovery +and from there to Carmarthen; for the first three or four days I +had dreadful weather. I got only to Worthen the first day, +twelve miles—on the next to Montgomery, and so on. It +is now very hot, but I am very well, much better than at +Shrewsbury. I hope in a few days to write to you again, and +soon to be back to you. God bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Lampeter</span>, +3<i>rd</i> <i>September</i> 1857.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Carreta</span>,—I am making +the best of my way to Shrewsbury (My face is turned towards +Mama). I write this from Lampeter, where there is a college +for educating clergymen <a name="page242"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 242</span>intended for Wales, which I am going +to see. I shall then start for Radnor by Tregaron, and hope +soon to be in England. I have seen an enormous deal since I +have been away, and have walked several hundred miles. +Amongst other places I have seen St. David’s, a wonderful +half ruinous cathedral on the S. Western end of Pembrokeshire, +but I shall be glad to get back. God bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Henrietta! Do you know who is handsome?</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Presteyne</span>, <span +class="smcap">Radnorshire</span>, <i>Monday morning</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I am just going +to start for Ludlow, and hope to be at Shrewsbury on Tuesday +night if not on Monday morning. God bless you and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">G. +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>When I get back I shall have walked more than 400 miles.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In <i>Wild Wales</i> we have George Borrow in his most genial +mood. There are none of the hair-breadth escapes and grim +experiences of <i>The Bible in Spain</i>, none of the romance and +the glamour of <i>Lavengro</i> and its sequel, but there is good +humour, a humour that does not obtain in the three more important +works, and there is an amazing amount of frank candour of a +biographical kind. We even have a reference to Isopel +Berners, referred to by Captain Bosvile as “the young woman +you used to keep company with . . . a fine young woman and a +virtuous.” It is the happiest of Borrow’s +books, and not unnaturally. He was having a genuine +holiday, and he had the companionship during a part of it of his +wife and daughter, of whom he was, as this book is partly written +to prove, very genuinely fond. He also enjoyed the +singularly felicitous experience of harking back upon some of his +earliest memories. He was able to retrace the steps he took +in the Welsh language during his boyhood:</p> +<blockquote><p>That night I sat up very late reading the life of +Twm O’r Nant, written by himself in choice Welsh. . . +. The life I had read in my boyhood in an old Welsh +magazine, and I now read it again with great zest, and no wonder, +as it is probably the most remarkable autobiography ever +penned.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is in this ecstatic mood that he passes through +Wales. Let me recall the eulogy on “Gronwy” +Owen, and here <a name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +243</span>it may be said that Borrow rarely got his spelling +correct of the proper names of his various literary heroes, in +the various Norse and Celtic tongues in which he delighted. +But how much Borrow delighted in his poets may be seen by his +eulogy on Goronwy Owen, which in its pathos recalls +Carlyle’s similar eulogies over poor German scholars who +interested him, Jean Paul Richter and Heyne, for example. +Borrow ignored Owen’s persistent intemperance and general +impracticability. Here and here only, indeed, does he +remind one of Carlyle. He had a great capacity for +hero-worship, although the two were not interested in the same +heroes. His hero-worship of Owen took him over large tracks +of country in search of that poet’s birthplace. He +writes of the delight he takes in inspecting the birth-places and +haunts of poets. “It is because I am fond of poetry, +poets, and their haunts, that I am come to Anglesey.” +“I proceeded on my way,” he says elsewhere, “in +high spirits indeed, having now seen not only the tomb of the +Tudors, but one of those sober poets for which Anglesey has +always been so famous.” And thus it is that <i>Wild +Wales</i> is a high-spirited book, which will always be a delight +and a joy not only to Welshmen, who, it may be hoped, have by +this time forgiven “the ecclesiastical cat” of +Llangollen, but to all who rejoice in the great classics of the +English tongue.</p> +<h2><a name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +244</span>CHAPTER XXXII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Life In London</span>, 1860–1874</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">George Borrow’s</span> earlier +visits to London are duly recorded, with that glamour of which he +was a master, in the pages of <i>Lavengro</i>. Who can +cross London Bridge even to-day without thinking of the +apple-woman and her copy of <i>Moll Flanders</i>; and many +passages of Borrow’s great book make a very special appeal +to the lover of London. Then there was that visit to the +Bible Society’s office made on foot from Norwich, and the +expedition a few months later to pass an examination in the +Manchu language. When he became a country squire and the +author of the very successful <i>Bible in Spain</i> Borrow +frequently visited London, and his various residences may be +traced from his letters. Take, for example, these five +notes to his wife, the first apparently written in 1848, but all +undated:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><i>Tuesday afternoon</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Wife</span>,—I just write +you a line to tell you that I am tolerably well as I hope you +are. Every thing is in confusion abroad. The French +King has disappeared and will probably never be heard of, though +they are expecting him in England. Funds are down nearly to +eighty. The Government have given up the income tax and +people are very glad of it. <i>I am not</i>. With +respect to the funds, if I were to sell out I should not know +what to do with the money. J. says they will rise. I +do not think they will, they may, however, fluctuate a +little.—Keep up your spirits, my heart’s dearest, and +kiss old Hen. for me.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">53<i>a</i>, <span class="smcap">Pall +Mall</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Wife Carreta</span>,—I write +you a line as I suppose you will be glad to have one. I +dine to-night with Murray and Cooke, and we are going to talk +over about <i>The Sleeping Bard</i>; <a name="page245"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 245</span>both are very civil. I have +been reading hard at the Museum and have lost no time. +Yesterday I went to Greenwich to see the Leviathan. It is +almost terrible to look at, and seems too large for the +river. It resembles a floating town—the paddle is 60 +feet high. A tall man can stand up in the funnel as it lies +down. ’Tis sad, however, that money is rather +scarce. I walked over Blackheath and thought of poor dear +Mrs. Watson. I have just had a note from FitzGerald. +We have had some rain but not very much. London is very +gloomy in rainy weather. I was hoping that I should have a +letter from you this morning. I hope you and Hen. have been +well.—God bless you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Pall +Mall</span>, 53<i>a</i>, <i>Saturday</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I am thinking +of coming to you on Thursday. I do not know that I can do +anything more here, and the dulness of the weather and the mists +are making me ill. Please to send another five pound note +by Tuesday morning. I have spent scarcely anything of that +which you sent except what I owe to Mrs. W., but I wish to have +money in my pocket, and Murray and Cooke are going to dine with +me on Tuesday; I shall be glad to be with you again, for I am +very much in want of your society. I miss very much my +walks at Llangollen by the quiet canal; but what’s to be +done? Everything seems nearly at a standstill in London, on +account of this wretched war, at which it appears to me the +English are getting the worst, notwithstanding their +boasting. They thought to settle it in an autumn’s +day; they little knew the Russians, and they did not reflect that +just after autumn comes winter, which has ever been the +Russians’ friend. Have you heard anything about the +rent of the Cottage? I should have been glad to hear from +you this morning. Give my love to Hen. and may God bless +you, dear.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>(Keep this.)</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">No. 53<i>a</i> <span +class="smcap">Pall Mall</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I hope you +received my last letter written on Tuesday. I am glad that +I came to London. I find myself much the better for having +done so. I was going on in a very spiritless manner. +Everybody I have met seems very kind and glad to see me. +Murray seems to be thoroughly staunch. Cooke, to whom I +mentioned the F.T., says that Murray was delighted with the idea, +and will be very glad of the 4th of <i>Lavengro</i>. I am +going to dine with Murray to-day, Thursday. W. called upon +me to-day. I wish you would send me a blank cheque, in a +letter so that if I want money I may be able to draw for a +little. <a name="page246"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +246</span>I shall not be long from home, but now I am here I wish +to do all that’s necessary. If you send me a blank +cheque, I suppose W. or Murray would give me the money. I +hope you got my last letter. I received yours, and Cooke +has just sent the two copies of <i>Lavengro</i> you wrote for, +and I believe some engravings of the picture. I shall wish +to return by the packet if possible, and will let you know when I +am coming. I hope to write again shortly to tell you some +more news. How is mother and Hen., and how are all the +creatures? I hope all well. I trust you like all I +propose—now I am here I want to get two or three things, to +go to the Museum, and to arrange matters. God bless you. +Love to mother and Hen.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. George Borrow</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">No. 58 <span class="smcap">Jermyn +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">St. James</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Carreta</span>,—I got here +safe, and upon the whole had not so bad a journey as might be +expected. I put up at the Spread Eagle for the night for I +was tired and <i>hungry</i>; have got into my old lodgings as you +see, those on the second floor, they are very nice ones, with +every convenience; they are expensive, it is true, but they are +<i>cheerful</i>, which is a grand consideration for me. I +have as yet seen nobody, for it is only now a little past +eleven. I can scarcely at present tell you what my plans +are, perhaps to-morrow I shall write again. Kiss Hen., and +God bless you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">G. B.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow was in London in 1845 and again in 1848. There +must have been other occasional visits on the way to this or that +starting point of his annual holiday, but in 1860 Borrow took a +house in London, and he resided there until 1874, when he +returned to Oulton. In a letter to Mr. John Murray, written +from Ireland in November, 1859, Mrs. Borrow writes to the effect +that in the spring of the following year she will wish to look +round “and select a pleasant holiday residence within three +to ten miles of London.” There is no doubt that a +succession of winters on Oulton Broad had been very detrimental +to Mrs. Borrow’s health, although they had no effect on +Borrow, who bathed there with equal indifference in winter as in +summer, having, as he tells us in <i>Wild Wales</i>, +“always had the health of an elephant.” And so +Borrow and his wife arrived in London in June, and took temporary +lodgings at 21 Montagu Street, Portman Square. In September +they went into occupation of a house in Brompton—22 +Hereford Square, which is now commemorated by a County Council +tablet. Here Borrow <a name="page247"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 247</span>resided for fourteen years, and here +his wife died on 30th January, 1869. She was buried in +Brompton Cemetery, where Borrow was laid beside her twelve years +later. For neighbours on the one side the Borrows had Mr. +Robert Collinson and, on the other, Miss Frances Power Cobbe and +her companion, Miss M. C. Lloyd. From Miss Cobbe we have +occasional glimpses of Borrow, all of them unkindly. She +was of Irish extraction, her father having been grandson of +Charles Cobbe, Archbishop of Dublin. Miss Cobbe was an +active woman in all kinds of journalistic and philanthropic +enterprises in the London of the ’seventies and +’eighties of the last century, writing in particular in the +now defunct newspaper, the <i>Echo</i>, and she wrote dozens of +books and pamphlets, all of them forgotten except her +<i>Autobiography</i>, in which she devoted several pages to her +neighbour in Hereford Square. Borrow had no sympathy with +fanatical women with many “isms,” and the pair did +not agree, although many neighbourly courtesies passed between +them for a time. Here is an extract from Miss Cobbe’s +<i>Autobiography</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>George Borrow, who, if he were not a gypsy by +blood, <i>ought</i> to have been one, was for some years our near +neighbour in Hereford Square. My friend was amused by his +quaint stories and his (real or sham) enthusiasm for Wales, and +cultivated his acquaintance. I never liked him, thinking +him more or less of a hypocrite. His missions, recorded in +<i>The Bible in Spain</i>, and his translations of the Scriptures +into the out-of-the-way tongues, for which he had a gift, were by +no means consonant with his real opinions concerning the veracity +of the said Bible.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One only needs to quote this by the light of the story as told +so far in these pages to see how entirely Miss Cobbe +misunderstood Borrow, or rather how little insight she was able +to bring to a study of his curious character. The rest of +her attempt at interpretation is largely taken up to demonstrate +how much more clever and more learned she was than Borrow. +Altogether it is a sorry spectacle, this of the +pseudo-philanthropist relating her conversations with a man +broken by misfortune and the death of his wife. Many of +Miss Cobbe’s statements have passed into current +acceptance. I do not find them convincing. Archdeacon +Whately on the other hand tells us that he always found <a +name="page248"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 248</span>Borrow +“most civil and hospitable,” and his sister gives us +the following “impression”:</p> +<blockquote><p>When Mr. Borrow returned from this Spanish +journey, which had been full, as we all know, of most +entertaining adventures, related with much liveliness and spirit +by himself, he was regarded as a kind of “lion” in +the literary circles of London. When we first saw him it +was at the house of a lady who took great pleasure in gathering +“celebrities” in various ways around her, and our +party was struck with the appearance of this renowned +traveller—a tall, thin, spare man with prematurely white +hair and intensely dark eyes, as he stood upright against the +wall of one of the drawing-rooms and received the homage of +lion-hunting guests, and listened in silence to their +unsuccessful attempts to make him talk.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>During this sojourn in London, which was undertaken because +Oulton and Yarmouth did not agree with his wife, Borrow suffered +the tragedy of her loss. Borrow dragged on his existence in +London for another five years, a much broken man. It is +extraordinary how little we know of Borrow during that fourteen +years’ sojourn in London; how rarely we meet him in the +literary memoirs of this period. Happily one or two +pleasant friendships relieved the sadness of his days; and in +particular the reminiscences of Walter Theodore Watts-Dunton +assist us to a more correct appreciation of the Borrow of these +last years of London life. Of Mr. Watts-Dunton’s +“memories,” we shall write in our next chapter. +Here it remains only to note that Borrow still continued to +interest himself in his various efforts at translation, and in +1861 and 1862 the editor of <i>Once a Week</i> printed various +ballads and stories from his pen. The volumes of this +periodical are before me, and I find illustrations by Sir John +Millais, Sir E. J. Poynter, Simeon Solomon and George Du Maurier; +stories by Mrs. Henry Wood and Harriet Martineau, and articles by +Walter Thornbury.</p> +<p>In 1862 <i>Wild Wales</i> was published, as we have +seen. In 1865 Henrietta married William MacOubrey, and in +the following year, Borrow and his wife went to visit the pair in +their Belfast home. In the beginning of the year 1869 Mrs. +Borrow died, aged seventy-three. There are no records of +the tragedy that are worth perpetuating. Borrow consumed +his own smoke. With his wife’s death his life was <a +name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 249</span>indeed a +wreck. No wonder he was so “rude” to that least +perceptive of women, Miss Cobbe. Some four or five years +more Borrow lingered on in London, cheered at times by walks and +talks with Gordon Hake and Watts-Dunton, and he then returned to +Oulton—a most friendless man.</p> +<h2><a name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +250</span>CHAPTER XXXIII<br /> +<span class="smcap">Friends of Later Years</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> should know little enough of +George Borrow’s later years were it not for his friendship +with Thomas Gordon Hake and Theodore Watts-Dunton. Hake was +born in 1809 and died in 1895. In 1839 he settled at Bury +St. Edmunds as a physician, and he resided there until +1853. Here he was frequently visited by the Borrows. +We have already quoted his prophecy concerning <i>Lavengro</i> +that “its roots will strike deep into the soil of English +letters.” In 1853 Dr. Hake and his family left Bury +for the United States, where they resided for some years. +Returning to England they lived at Roehampton and met Borrow +occasionally in London. During these years Hake was, +according to Mr. W. M. Rossetti, “the earthly Providence of +the Rossetti family,” but he was not, as his <i>Memoirs</i> +show, equally devoted to Borrow. In 1872, however, he went +to live in Germany and Italy for a considerable period. +Concerning the relationship between Borrow and Hake, Mr. +Watts-Dunton has written:</p> +<blockquote><p>After Hake went to live in Germany, Borrow told me +a good deal about their intimacy, and also about his own early +life: for, reticent as he naturally was, he and I got to be +confidential and intimate. His friendship with Hake began +when Hake was practising as a physician in Norfolk. It +lasted during the greater part of Borrow’s later +life. When Borrow was living in London his great delight +was to walk over on Sundays from Hereford Square to Coombe End, +call upon Hake, and take a stroll with him over Richmond +Park. They both had a passion for herons and for +deer. At that time Hake was a very intimate friend of my +own, and having had the good fortune to be introduced by him to +Borrow I used to join the two in their walks. Afterwards, +when Hake went to live in Germany, I used to take those walks +with Borrow alone. Two more interesting men it would be +impossible to meet. The remarkable thing was that there was +between them no sort of intellectual sympathy. In style, in +education, in experience, whatever Hake was, Borrow was +not. Borrow knew almost nothing of Hake’s writings, +either in prose <a name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +251</span>or in verse. His ideal poet was Pope, and when he +read, or rather looked into, Hake’s <i>World’s +Epitaph</i>, he thought he did Hake the greatest honour by +saying, “there are lines here and there that are nigh as +good as Pope!”</p> +<p>On the other hand, Hake’s acquaintance with +Borrow’s works was far behind that of some Borrovians who +did not know Lavengro in the flesh, such as Saintsbury and Mr. +Birrell. Borrow was shy, angular, eccentric, rustic in +accent and in locution, but with a charm for me, at least, that +was irresistible. Hake was polished, easy and urbane in +everything, and, although not without prejudice and bias, ready +to shine generally in any society.</p> +<p>So far as Hake was concerned the sole link between them was +that of reminiscence of earlier days and adventures in +Borrow’s beloved East Anglia. Among many proofs I +would adduce of this I will give one. I am the possessor of +the MS. of Borrow’s <i>Gypsies of Spain</i>, written partly +in a Spanish notebook as he moved about Spain in his colporteur +days. It was my wish that Hake would leave behind him some +memorial of Borrow more worthy of himself and his friend than +those brief reminiscences contained in <i>Memoirs of Eighty +Years</i>. I took to Hake this precious relic of <i>one of +the most wonderful men of the nineteenth century</i>, in order to +discuss with him differences between the MS. and the printed +text. Hake was writing in his invalid chair,—writing +verses. “What does it all matter?” he +said. “I do not think you understand Lavengro,” +I said. Hake replied, “And yet Lavengro had an +advantage over me, for <i>he</i> understood <i>nobody</i>. +Every individuality with which he was brought into contact had, +as no one knows better than you, to be tinged with colours of his +own before he could see it at all.” That, of course, +was true enough; and Hake’s asperities when speaking of +Borrow in <i>Memoirs of Eighty Years</i>,—asperities which +have vexed a good many Borrovians,—simply arose from the +fact that it was impossible for two such men to understand each +other. When I told him of Mr. Lang’s angry onslaught +upon Borrow in his notes to the <i>Waverley Novels</i>, on +account of his attacks upon Scott, he said, “Well, does he +not deserve it?” When I told him of Miss +Cobbe’s description of Borrow as a <i>poseur</i>, he said +to me, “I told you the same scores of times. But I +saw Borrow had bewitched you during that first walk under the +rainbow in Richmond Park. It was that rainbow, I think, +that befooled you.” Borrow’s affection for +Hake, however, was both strong and deep, as I saw after Hake had +gone to Germany and in a way dropped out of Borrow’s +ken. Yet Hake was as good a man as ever Borrow was, and for +certain others with whom he was brought in contact as full of a +genuine affection as Borrow was himself.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Watts-Dunton refers here to Hake’s asperities when +speaking of Borrow. They are very marked in the <i>Memoirs +of Eighty Years</i>, and nearly all the stories of Borrow’s +<a name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +252</span>eccentricities that have been served up to us by +Borrow’s biographers are due to Hake. It is here we +read of his snub to Thackeray. “Have you read my Snob +Papers in <i>Punch</i>?” Thackeray asked him. +“In <i>Punch</i>?” Borrow replied. “It is +a periodical I never look at.” He was equally rude, +or shall we say Johnsonian, according to Hake, when Miss Agnes +Strickland asked him if she might send him her <i>Queens of +England</i>. He exclaimed, “For God’s sake +don’t, madam; I should not know where to put them or what +to do with them.” Hake is responsible also for that +other story about the woman who, desirous of pleasing him, said, +“Oh, Mr. Borrow, I have read your books with so much +pleasure!” On which he exclaimed, “Pray, what +books do you mean, madam? Do you mean my account +books?” Dr. Johnson was guilty of many such vagaries, +and the readers of Boswell have forgiven him everything because +they are conveyed to them through the medium of a +hero-worshipper. Borrow never had a Boswell, and despised +the literary class so much that he never found anything in the +shape of an apologist until he had been long dead.</p> +<p>I find no letter from Hake to Borrow among my papers, but +three to his wife:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bury +St. Edmunds</span>, <i>Jan.</i> 27, ’48. +<i>Evening</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Borrow</span>,—It gave +me great pleasure, as it always does, to see your handwriting; +and as respects the subject of your note you may make yourself +quite easy, for I believe the idea has crossed no other mind than +your own. How sorry I am to learn that you have been so +unwell since your visit to us. I hope that by care you will +get strong during this bracing weather. I wish that you +were already nearer to us, and cannot resign the hope that we +shall yet enjoy the happiness of having you as our +neighbours. I have felt a strong friendship for Mr. +Borrow’s mind for many years, and have ardently wished from +time to time to know him, and to have realised my desire I +consider one of the most happy events of my life. Until +lately, dear Mrs. Borrow, I have had no opportunity of knowing +you and your sweet simple-hearted child; but now I hope nothing +will occur to interrupt a regard and friendship which I and Mrs. +Hake feel most truly towards you all. Tell Mr. Borrow how +much we should like to be his Sinbad. I wish he would bring +you all and his papers and come again to look about him. +There is an old hall at Tostock, which, I hear to-day, is quite +dry; if so it is worthy of your attention. It is a mile +from the Elmswell station, which is ten minutes’ time from +Bury. This <a name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +253</span>hall has got a bad name from having been long vacant, +but some friends of mine have been over it and they tell me there +is not a damp spot on the premises. It is seven miles from +Bury. Mrs. Hake has written about a house at Rougham, but +had no answer. The cottage at Farnham is to let +again. I know not whether Mr. Harvey will make an effort +for it. A little change would do you all good, and we can +receive Miss Clarke without any difficulty. Give our +kindest regards to your party, and believe me, dear Mrs. Borrow, +sincerely yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">T. G. +Hake</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bury +St. Edmunds</span>, <i>January</i> 19<i>th</i>, ’49.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Borrow</span>,—The +sight of your handwriting is always a luxury—but you say +nothing about coming to see us. We are pleased to get good +accounts of your party, and only wish you could report better of +yourself. I must take you fairly in hand when you come +again to the ancient quarters, for such they are becoming now +from your long absence. You might try bismuth and extract +of hop, which is often very strengthening to the stomach. +Five grains of extract of hop and five grains of trisnitrate of +bismuth made into two pills, which are to be taken at eleven and +repeated at four—daily. I am so pleased to learn that +Miss Clarke is better, as well as Mr. Borrow. I hope that +on some occasion the morphia may be of great comfort to him +should his night watchings return. It is good news that the +proofs are advancing—I hope towards a speedy end. +Messrs. Oakes and Co.’s Bank is as safe as any in the +kingdom and more substantial than any in this county. It +must be safe, for the partners are men of large property, and of +careful habits. I am happy to say we are all well here, but +my brother’s house in town is a scene of sad trouble. +He is himself laid up with bad scarlet fever as well as five +children, all severely attacked. One they have lost of this +fearful complaint.</p> +<p>Give our kindest regards to Mr. Borrow and accept them +yourselves. Ever, dear Mrs. Borrow, sincerely yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">T. G. +Hake</span>.</p> +<p>I send Beethoven’s epitaph for Miss Clarke’s album +according to promise. It is <i>not</i> by Wordsworth.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bury +St. Edmunds</span>, <i>June</i> 24, ’51.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. Borrow</span>,—I am +very sorry to hear that you are not feeling strong, and that +these flushes of heat are so frequent and troublesome. I +will prescribe a medicine for you which I hope may prove +serviceable. Let me hear again about your health, and be +assured you cannot possibly give me any trouble.</p> +<p>I am also glad to hear of Mr. Borrow. I envy him his +bath. I am looking out anxiously for the new quarterly +reviews. I wonder whether the <i>Quarterly</i> will contain +anything. Is there a prospect of vol. iv.? I really +look to passing a day and two half <a name="page254"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 254</span>days with you, and to bringing Mrs. +Hake to your classic soil some time in August—if we are not +inconveniencing you in your charming and snug cottage. I +hope Miss Clarke is well. Our united kind regards to you +all. George is quite brisk and saucy—Lucy and the +infant have not been well. Mrs. Hake has better accounts +from Bath. Believe me, dear Mrs. Borrow, very sincerely +yours,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">T. G. +Hake</span>.</p> +<p>Mr. Donne was pleased that Mr. Borrow liked his notice in +<i>Tait</i>. You can take a little cold sherry and water +after your dinner.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page255"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +255</span>CHAPTER XXXIV<br /> +<span class="smcap">Henrietta Clarke</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Borrow</span> never had a child, but happy +for him was the part played by his stepdaughter Henrietta in his +life. She was twenty-three years old when her mother +married him, and it is clear to me that she was from the +beginning of their friendship and even to the end of his life +devoted to her stepfather. Readers of <i>Wild Wales</i> +will recall not only the tribute that Borrow pays to her, which +we have already quoted, in which he refers to her “good +qualities and many accomplishments,” but the other pleasant +references in that book. “Henrietta,” he says +in one passage, “played on the guitar <a +name="citation255"></a><a href="#footnote255" +class="citation">[255]</a> and sang a Spanish song, to the great +delight of John Jones.” When climbing Snowdon he is +keen in his praises of the endurance of “the gallant +girl.” As against all this, there is an undercurrent +of depreciation of his stepdaughter among Borrow’s +biographers. The picture of Borrow’s home in later +life at Oulton is presented by them with sordid details. +The Oulton tradition which still survives among the few +inhabitants who lived near the Broad at Borrow’s death in +1881, and still reside there, is of an ill-kept home, supremely +untidy, and it is as a final indictment of his daughter’s +callousness that we have the following gruesome picture by Dr. +Knapp:</p> +<blockquote><p>On the 26th of July 1881 Mr. Borrow was found dead +in his house at Oulton. The circumstances were these. +His stepdaughter and her husband drove to Lowestoft in the +morning on some business of their own, leaving Mr. Borrow without +a living soul in the house with him. He had earnestly +requested them not to go away because he felt that he was in a +dying state; but the response intimated that he had often +expressed the same feeling before, and his fears had proved +groundless. During the interval of these few hours of +abandonment nothing can palliate or excuse, George Borrow died as +he had lived—<i>alone</i>! His age was seventy-eight +years and twenty-one days.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page256"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 256</span>Dr. +Knapp no doubt believed all this; <a name="citation256"></a><a +href="#footnote256" class="citation">[256]</a> it is endorsed by +the village gossip of the past thirty years, and the mythical +tragedy is even heightened by a further story of a farm tumbril +which carried poor Borrow’s body to the railway station +when it was being conveyed to London to be buried beside his wife +in Brompton Cemetery.</p> +<p>The tumbril story—whether correct or otherwise—is +a matter of indifference to me. The legend of the neglect +of Borrow in his last moments is, however, of importance, and the +charge can easily be disproved. I have before me Mrs. +MacOubrey’s diary for 1881. I have many such diaries +for a long period of years, but this for 1881 is of particular +moment. Here, under the date July 26th, we find the brief +note, <i>George Borrow died at three o’clock this +morning</i>. It is scarcely possible that Borrow’s +stepdaughter and her husband could have left him alone at three +o’clock in the morning in order to drive into Lowestoft, +less than two miles distant. At this time, be it +remembered, Dr. MacOubrey was eighty-one years of age. Now, +as to the general untidiness of Borrow’s home at the time +of his death—the point is a distasteful one, but it had +better be faced. Henrietta was nineteen years of age when +her mother married Borrow. She was sixty-four at the time +of his death, and her husband, as I have said, was eighty-one +years of age at that time, being three years older than +Borrow. Here we have three very elderly people keeping +house together and little accustomed overmuch to the assistance +of domestic servants. The situation at once becomes +clear. Mrs. Borrow had a genius for housekeeping and for +management. She watched over her husband, kept his +accounts, held the family purse, managed all his affairs. +She “managed” her daughter also, delighting in that +daughter’s accomplishments of drawing and botany, to which +may be added a zeal for the writing of stories which does not +seem, judging from the many manuscripts in her handwriting that I +have burnt, to have received much editorial encouragement. +In short, Henrietta was not domesticated. But just as I +have proved in preceding chapters that Borrow was happy in his +married life, so I would urge that as far as a somewhat +disappointed career <a name="page257"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 257</span>would permit to the sadly bereaved +author he was happy in his family circle to the end. It was +at his initiative that, when he had returned to Oulton after the +death of his wife, his daughter and her husband came to live with +him. He declared that to live alone was no longer +tolerable, and they gave up their own home in London to join him +at Oulton.</p> +<p>A new glimpse of Borrow on his domestic side has been offered +to the public even as this book is passing through the +press. Mr. S. H. Baldrey, a Norwich solicitor, has given +his reminiscences of the author of <i>Lavengro</i> to the leading +newspaper of that city. Mr. Baldrey is the stepson of the +late John Pilgrim of the firm of Jay and Pilgrim, who were +Borrow’s solicitors at Norwich in the later years of his +life. One at least of Mr. Baldrey’s many +reminiscences has in it an element of romance; that in which he +recalls Mrs. Borrow and her daughter:</p> +<blockquote><p>Mrs. Borrow always struck me as a dear old +creature. When Borrow married her she was a widow with one +daughter, Henrietta Clarke. The old lady used to dress in +black silk. She had little silver-grey corkscrew curls down +the side of her face; and she wore a lace cap with a mauve ribbon +on top, quite in the Early Victorian style. I remember that +on one occasion when she and Miss Clarke had come to Brunswick +House they were talking with my mother in the temporary absence +of George Borrow, who, so far as I can recall, had gone into +another room to discuss business with John Pilgrim.</p> +<p>“Ah!” she said, “George is a good man, but +he is a strange creature. Do you know he will say to me +after breakfast, ‘Mary, I am going for a walk,’ and +then I do not see anything more of him for three months. +And all the time he will be walking miles and miles. Once +he went right into Scotland, and never once slept in a +house. He took not even a handbag with him or a clean +shirt, but lived just like any old tramp.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Baldrey is clearly in error here, or shall we say that +Mrs. Borrow humorously exaggerated? We have seen that +Borrow’s annual holiday was a matter of careful +arrangement, and his knapsack or satchel is frequently referred +to in his descriptions of his various tours. But the matter +is of little importance, and Mr. Baldrey’s pictures of +Borrow are excellent, including that of his personal +appearance:</p> +<blockquote><p>As I recall him, he was a fine, powerfully built +man of about six feet high. He had a clean-shaven face with +a fresh complexion, almost approaching to the florid, and never a +wrinkle, <a name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +258</span>even at sixty, except at the corners of his dark and +rather prominent eyes. He had a shock of silvery white +hair. He always wore a very badly brushed silk hat, a black +frock coat and trousers, the coat all buttoned down before; low +shoes and white socks, with a couple of inches of white showing +between the shoes and the trousers. He was a tireless +walker, with extraordinary powers of endurance, and was also very +handy with his fists, as in those days a gentleman required to +be, more than he does now.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. John Pilgrim lived at Brunswick House, on the Newmarket +Road, Norwich, and here Borrow frequently visited him. Mr. +Baldrey recalls one particular visit:</p> +<blockquote><p>I have a curious recollection of his dining one +night at Brunswick House. John Pilgrim, who was a careful, +abstemious man, never took more than two glasses of port at +dinner. “John,” said Borrow, “this is a +good port. I prefer Burgundy if you can get it good; but, +lord, you cannot get it now.” It so happened that Mr. +Pilgrim had some fine old Clos-Vougeot in the cellar. +“I think,” said he, “I can give you a good drop +of Burgundy.” A bottle was sent for, and Borrow +finished it, alone and unaided. “Well,” he +remarked, “I think this is a good Burgundy. But +I’m not quite certain. I should like to try a little +more.” Another bottle was called up, and the guest +finished it to the last drop. “I am still,” he +said, “not quite sure about it, but I shall know in the +morning.” The next morning Mr. Pilgrim and I were +leaving for the office, when Borrow came up the garden path +waving his arms like a windmill. “Oh, John,” he +said, “that <i>was</i> Burgundy! When I woke up this +morning it was coursing through my veins like fire.” +And yet Borrow was not a man to drink to excess. I cannot +imagine him being the worse for liquor. He had wonderful +health and digestion. Neither a gourmand nor a gourmet, he +could take down anything, and be none the worse for it. I +don’t think you could have made him drunk if you tried.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And here is a glimpse of Borrow after his wife’s death, +for which we are grateful to Mr. Baldrey:</p> +<blockquote><p>After the funeral of Mrs. Borrow he came to +Norwich and took me over to Oulton with him. He was silent +all the way. When we got to the little white wicket gate +before the approach to the house he took off his hat and began to +beat his breast like an Oriental. He cried aloud all the +way up the path. He calmed himself, however, by the time +that Mr. Crabbe had opened the door and asked us in. Crabbe +brought in some wine, and we all sat down to table. I sat +opposite to Mrs. Crabbe; her husband was on my left hand. +Borrow sat at one end of the table, and the chair at the opposite +end was left vacant. We were talking <a +name="page259"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 259</span>in a casual +way when Borrow, pointing to the empty chair, said with profound +emotion, “There! It was there that I first saw +her.” It was a curious coincidence that though there +were four of us we should have left that particular seat +unoccupied at a little table of about four feet square.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But this is a lengthy digression from the story of Henrietta +Clarke, who married William MacOubrey, an Irishman—and an +Orangeman—from Belfast in 1865. The pair lived first +in Belfast and afterwards at 80 Charlotte Street, Fitzroy +Square. Before his marriage he had practised at 134 Sloane +Street, London. MacOubrey, although there had been some +doubt cast upon the statement, was a Doctor of Medicine of +Trinity College, Dublin, and a Barrister-at-Law. Within his +limitations he was an accomplished man, and before me lie not +only documentary evidence of his M.D. and his legal status, but +several printed pamphlets that bear his name. What is of +more importance, the many letters from and to his wife that have +passed through my hands and have been consigned to the flames +prove that husband and wife lived on most affectionate terms.</p> +<p>It is natural that Borrow’s correspondence with his +stepdaughter should have been of a somewhat private character, +and I therefore publish only a selection from his letters to her, +believing however that they will modify an existing tradition +very considerably:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—Have you +heard from the gentleman whom you said you would write to about +the farm? Mr. C. came over the other day and I mentioned +the matter to him, but he told me that he was on the eve of going +to London on law business and should be absent for some +time. His son is in Cambridge. I am afraid that it +will be no easy matter to find a desirable tenant and that none +are likely to apply but a set of needy speculators; indeed, there +is a general dearth of money. How is Dr. M.? God +bless you!</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I have +received some of the rent and send a cheque for eight +pounds. Have the kindness to acknowledge the receipt of +same by return of post. As soon as you arrive in London, +let me know, and I will send a cheque for ten pounds, <a +name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 260</span>which I +believe will pay your interest up to Midsummer. If there is +anything incorrect pray inform me. God bless you. +Kind regards to Miss Harvey.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—As soon as +Smith has paid his Michaelmas rent I will settle your interest up +to Midsummer. Twenty-one pounds was, I think, then due to +you, as you received five pounds on the account of the present +year. If, however, you are in want of money let me know +forthwith, and I will send you a small cheque. The document +which I mentioned has been witnessed by Mrs. Church and her +daughter. It is in one of the little tin boxes on the lower +shelf of the closet nearest to the window in my bedroom. I +was over at Mattishall some weeks ago. Things there look +very unsatisfactory. H. and his mother now owe me £20 +or more. The other man a year’s rent for a cottage +and garden, and two years’ rent for the gardens of two +cottages unoccupied. I am just returned from Norwich where +I have been to speak to F. I have been again pestered by +Pilgrim’s successor about the insurance of the +property. He pretends to have insured again. A more +impudent thing was probably never heard of. He is no agent +of mine, and I will have no communication with him. I have +insured myself in the Union Office, and have lately received my +second policy. I have now paid upwards of twelve pounds for +policies. F. says that he told him months ago that the +demand he made would not be allowed, that I insured myself and +was my own agent, and that as he shall see him in a few days he +will tell him so again. Oh what a source of trouble that +wretched fellow Pilgrim has been both to you and me.</p> +<p>I wish very much to come up to London. But I cannot +leave the country under present circumstances. There is not +a person in these parts in whom I can place the slightest +confidence. I must inform you that at our interview F. said +not a word about the matter in Chancery. God bless +you. Kind remembrances to Dr. M.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I wish to +know how you are. I shall shortly send a cheque for +thirteen pounds, which I believe will settle the interest account +up to Michaelmas. If you see anything inaccurate pray +inform me. I am at present tolerably well, but of late have +been very much troubled with respect to my people. Since I +saw you I have been three times over to Mattishall, but with very +little profit. The last time I was there I got the key of +the house from that fellow Hill, and let the place to another +person who I am told is not much better. One comfort is +that he cannot be worse. But now there is a +difficulty. Hill <a name="page261"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 261</span>refuses to yield up the land, and +has put padlocks on the gates. These I suppose can be +removed as he is not in possession of the key of the house. +On this point, however, I wish to be certain. As for the +house, he and his mother, who is in a kind of partnership with +him, have abandoned it for two years, the consequence being that +the windows are dashed out, and the place little better than a +ruin. During the four years he has occupied the land he has +been cropping it, and the crops have invariably been sold before +being reaped, and as soon as reaped carried off. During the +last two years there has not been a single live thing kept on the +premises, not so much as a hen. He now says that there are +some things in the house belonging to him. Anything, +however, which he has left is of course mine, though I +don’t believe that what he has left is worth +sixpence. I have told the incoming tenant to deliver up +nothing, and not permit him to enter the house on any +account. He owes me ten or twelve pounds, arrears of rent, +and at least fifteen for dilapidations. I think the fellow +ought to be threatened with an action, but I know not whom to +employ. I don’t wish to apply to F. Perhaps Dr. +M.’s London friend might be spoken to. I believe +Hill’s address is Alfred Hill, Mattishall, Norfolk, but the +place which he occupied of me is at Mattishall Burgh. I +shall be glad to hear from you as soon as is convenient. I +have anything but reason to be satisfied with the conduct of +S. He is cropping the ground most unmercifully, and is +sending sacks of game off the premises every week. Surely +he must be mad, as he knows I can turn him out next +Michaelmas. God bless you. Kind regards to Dr. +M. Take care of this.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I was glad to +hear that you had obtained your dividend. I was afraid that +you would never get it. I shall be happy to see you and Dr. +M. about the end of the month. Michaelmas is near at hand, +when your half-year’s interest becomes due. God bless +you. Kind remembrances to Dr. M.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Oulton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lowestoft</span>, <i>November</i> 29<i>th</i>, +1874.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I send a +cheque for £15, which will settle the interest account up +to Michaelmas last. On receipt of this have the kindness to +send me a line. I have been to Norwich, and now know all +about your affair. I saw Mr. Durrant, who, it seems, is the +real head of the firm to which I go. He received me in the +kindest manner, and said he was very glad to see me. I +inquired about J.P.’s affairs. He appeared at first +not desirous to speak about them, but presently became very +communicative. I inquired who had put the matter into +Chancery, and he told me he himself, which I was very glad to +hear. I asked whether the mortgagees would get their money, +and he replied that he <a name="page262"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 262</span>had no doubt they eventually would, +as far as principal was concerned. I spoke about interest, +but on that point he gave me slight hopes. He said that the +matter, if not hurried, would turn out tolerably satisfactory, +but if it were, very little would be obtained. It appears +that the unhappy creature who is gone had been dabbling in post +obit bonds, at present almost valueless, but likely to become +available. He was in great want of money shortly before he +died. Now, dear, pray keep up your spirits; I hope and +trust we shall meet about Christmas. Kind regards to Dr. +M.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +<p>Keep this. Send a line by return of post.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I thought I +would write to you as it seems a long time since I heard from +you. I have been on my expedition and have come back +safe. I had a horrible time of it on the sea—small +dirty boat crowded with people and rough weather. Poor Mr. +Brightwell is I am sorry to say dead—died in January. +I saw Mr. J. and P. and had a good deal of conversation with them +which I will talk to you about when I see you. Mr. P. sent +an officer over to M. I went to Oulton, and as soon as I +got there I found one of the farm cottages nearly in ruins; the +gable had fallen down—more expense! but I said that some +willow trees must be cut down to cover it. The place upon +the whole looks very beautiful. C. full of complaints, +though I believe he has a fine time of it. He and T. are at +daggers drawn. I am sorry to tell you that poor Mr. Leathes +is dying—called, but could not see him, but he sent down a +kind message to me. The family, however, were rejoiced to +see me and wanted me to stay. The scoundrel of a shoemaker +did not send the shoes. I thought he would not. The +shirt-collars were much too small. I, however, managed to +put on the shirts and am glad of them. At Norwich I saw +Lucy, who appears to be in good spirits. Many people have +suffered dreadfully there from the failure of the Bank—her +brother, amongst others, has been let in. I shall have much +to tell you when I see you. I am glad the Prussians are +getting on so famously. The Pope it seems has written a +letter to the King of Prussia and is asking favours of him. +A low old fellow!!! Remember me kindly to Miss H., and may +God bless you! Bring this back.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><i>March</i> 6, 1873.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I was so +grieved to hear that you were unwell. Pray take care of +yourself, and do not go out in this dreadful weather. Send +and get, on my account, six bottles of good port wine. Good +port may be had at the cellar at the <a name="page263"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 263</span>corner of Charles Street, opposite +the Hospital near Hereford Square—I think the name of the +man is Kitchenham. Were I in London I would bring it +myself. Do send for it. May God Almighty bless +you!</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, +<i>July</i> 12, 1873.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I shall be +glad to see you and Dr. M. as soon as you can make it convenient +to come. As for my coming up to London it is quite out of +the question. I am suffering greatly, and here I am in this +solitude without medicine or advice. I want very much to +pay you up your interest. I can do so without the slightest +inconvenience. I have money. It is well I have, as it +seems to be almost my only friend. God bless you. +Kind regards to Dr. M.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">To <span +class="smcap">Mrs. MacOubrey</span>, 50 <span +class="smcap">Charlotte Street</span>, <span +class="smcap">Fitzroy Square</span>, <span +class="smcap">London</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lowestoft</span>, <i>April</i> 1, 1874.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I have +received your letter of the 30th March. Since I last wrote +I have not been well. I have had a great pain in the left +jaw which almost prevented me from eating. I am, however, +better now. I shall be glad to see you and Dr. M. as soon +as you can conveniently come. Send me a line to say when I +may expect you. I have no engagements. Before you +come call at No. 36 to inquire whether anything has been sent +there. Leverton had better be employed to make a couple of +boxes or cases for the books in the sacks. The sacks can be +put on the top in the inside. There is an old coat in one +of the sacks in the pocket of which are papers. Let it be +put in with its contents just as it is. I wish to have the +long white chest and the two deal boxes also brought down. +Buy me a thick under-waistcoat like that I am now wearing, and a +lighter one for the summer. Worsted socks are of no +use—they scarcely last a day. Cotton ones are poor +things, but they are better than worsted. Kind regards to +Dr. M. God bless you!</p> +<p>Return me this when you come.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span>, 50 <span class="smcap">Charlotte +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Fitzroy Square</span>, <span +class="smcap">London</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Oulton</span>, +<i>Nov.</i> 14, 1876.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—You may buy +me a large silk handkerchief, like the one you brought +before. I shall be glad to see you and Dr. M. I am +very unwell.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 264</span><span +class="smcap">To Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I shall be +glad to see you and Dr. M. as soon as you can make it +convenient. In a day or two the house will be in good +repair and very comfortable. I want you to go to the bank +and have the cheque placed to my account. Lady Day is nigh +at hand, and it must be seen after. Buy for me a pair of +those hollow ground razors and tell Dr. M. to bring a little +laudanum. Come if you can on the first of March. It +is dear Mama’s birthday. God bless you! Kind +regards to Dr. M.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span>, 50 <span class="smcap">Charlotte +Street</span>, <span class="smcap">Fitzroy Square</span>, <span +class="smcap">London</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Mrs. +Church’s</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady’s +Lane</span>, <span class="smcap">Norwich</span>, <i>Feb.</i> 28, +1877.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Henrietta</span>,—I received +your letter this morning with the document. The other came +to hand at Oulton before I left. I showed Mr. F. the first +document on Wednesday, and he expressed then a doubt with regard +to the necessity of an affidavit from me, but he said it would +perhaps be necessary for him to see the security. I saw him +again this morning and he repeated the same thing. To-night +he is going to write up to his agent on the subject, and on +Monday I am to know what is requisite to be done—therefore +pray keep in readiness. On Tuesday, perhaps, I shall return +to Oulton, but I don’t know. I shall write again on +Monday. God bless you.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">George +Borrow</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Borrow died, as we have seen, in 1881, and was buried by the +side of his wife in Brompton Cemetery. By his will dated +1st December, 1880, he bequeathed all his property to his +stepdaughter, making his friend, Elizabeth Harvey, her +co-executrix. The will, a copy of which is before me, has +no public interest, but it may be noted that Miss Harvey refused +to act, as the following letter to Mrs. MacOubrey testifies:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Bury St. +Edmunds</span>, <i>August</i> 13<i>th</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Henrietta</span>,—I was +just preparing to write to you when yours arrived together with +Mrs. Reeve’s despatch. You know how earnestly I +desire your welfare—but <i>because</i> I do so I earnestly +advise you immediately to exercise the right you have of +appointing another trustee in my place. I am sure <a +name="page265"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 265</span>it will be +best for you. You ought to have a trustee at least +<i>not</i> older than yourself, and one who has health and +strength for discharging the office. I <i>know</i> what are +the duties of a trustee. There’s <i>always</i> a +considerable responsibility involved in the discharge of the +duties of a trustee—and it may easily occur that great +responsibility may be thrown on them, and it may become an +anxious business fit only for those who have youth and health and +strength of mind, and are likely to live.</p> +<p>My dear friend, you do not like to realise the old age of your +dear friends, but you must consider that I am quite past the age +for such an office, and my invalid state often prevents my +attending to my own small affairs. I have no relation or +confidential friend who can act for me. My executors were +Miss Venn and John Venn. Miss Venn departed last February +to a better land. John is in such health with heart disease +that he cannot move far from his home—he writes as one +<i>ready</i> and desiring to depart. I do not expect to see +<i>him</i> again. So you see, my dearest friend, I am not +able to undertake this trusteeship, and I think the sooner you +consult Mrs. Reeve as to the appointment of another +trustee—the better it will be—and the more +<i>permanent</i>. Had I known it was Mr. Borrow’s +intention to put down my name I should have prevented it, and he +would have seen that an aged and invalid lady was not the person +to carry out his wishes—for I am quite unable.</p> +<p>I pray that a fit person may be induced to undertake the +business, and that it may please God so to order all for your +good. It is indeed the greatest mercy that your dear +husband is well enough to afford you such help and such +comfort. Pray hire a proper servant who will obey +orders.—In haste, ever yrs. affectionately,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">E. +Harvey</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Another letter that has some bearing upon Borrow’s last +days is worth printing here:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">To +Mrs. MacOubrey</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Yarmouth</span>, +<i>August</i> 19, 1881.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Mrs. MacOubrey</span>,—I was +very sorry indeed to hear of Mr. Borrow’s death. I +thought he looked older the last time I saw him, but with his +vigorous constitution I have not thought the end so near. +You and Mr. MacOubrey have the comfort of knowing that you have +attended affectionately to his declining years, which would +otherwise have been very lonely. I have been abroad for a +short time, and this has prevented me from replying to your kind +letter before. Pray receive the assurance of my sympathy, +and with my kind remembrances to Mr. MacOubrey, believe me, yours +very truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">R. H. Inglis +Palgrave</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 266</span>Three +years later Dr. MacOubrey died in his eighty-fourth year, and was +interred at Oulton. Mrs. MacOubrey lived for a time at +Oulton and then removed to Yarmouth. A letter that she +wrote to a friend soon after the death of her husband is perhaps +some index to her character:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Oulton Cottage</span>, <span +class="smcap">Oulton</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Nr. +Lowestoft</span>, <i>Sept.</i> 3<i>rd</i>, 1884.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—I beg to thank +you for your kind thought of me. On Sunday night the 24th +Augst., it pleased God to take from me my excellent and beloved +husband—his age was nearly 84. He sunk simply from +age and weakness. I was his nurse by night and by day, +administering constant nourishment, but he became weaker and +weaker, till at last “The silver cord was +loosed.” My dear father died about this time three +years since, which makes the blow more stunning. I feel +very lonely now in my secluded residence on the banks of the +Broad—the music of the wild birds adds not to my pleasure +now. Trusting that yourself and Mrs. S— may long be +spared.—Believe me to remain, yours very truly,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Henrietta +MacOubrey</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The cottage at Oulton was soon afterwards pulled down, but the +summer-house where Borrow wrote a portion of his <i>Bible in +Spain</i> and his other works remained for some years. That +ultimately an entirely new structure took its place may be seen +by comparing the roof in Mrs. MacOubrey’s drawing with the +illustration of the structure as it is to-day. Mrs. +MacOubrey died in 1903 at Yarmouth, and the following inscription +may be found on her tomb in Oulton Churchyard:</p> +<blockquote><p>Sacred to the memory of Henrietta Mary, widow of +William MacOubrey, only daughter of Lieut. Henry Clarke, <span +class="smcap">R.N.</span>, and Mary Skepper, his wife, and +stepdaughter of George Henry Borrow, Esq., the celebrated author +of <i>The Bible in Spain</i>, <i>The Gypsies of Spain</i>, +<i>Lavengro</i>, <i>The Romany Rye</i>, <i>Wild Wales</i>, and +other works and translations. Henrietta Mary MacOubrey was +born at Oulton Hall in this Parish, May 17th, 1818, and died 23rd +December 1903. “And He shall give His angels charge +over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”—Psalm xci. +11.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The following extract from her will is of interest as +indicating the trend of a singularly kindly nature. The +intimate friends of Mrs. MacOubrey’s later years, whose +opinion is <a name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +267</span>of more value than that of village gossips, speak of +her in terms of sincere affection:</p> +<blockquote><p>I give the following charitable legacies, namely, +to the London Bible Society, in remembrance of the great interest +my dear father, George Henry Borrow, took in the success of its +great work for the benefit of mankind, the sum of one hundred +pounds. To the Foreign Missionary Society the sum of one +hundred pounds. To the London Religious Tract Society the +sum of one hundred pounds. To the London Society for the +Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the sum of one hundred +pounds.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +268</span>CHAPTER XXXV<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Aftermath</span></h2> +<blockquote><p>“We are all Borrovians +now.”—<span class="smcap">Augustine +Birrell</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is a curious fact that of only +two men of distinction in English letters in these later years +can it be said that they lived to a good old age and yet failed +of recognition for work that is imperishable. Many poets +have died young—Shelley and Keats for example—to whom +this public recognition was refused in their lifetime. But +given the happiness of reaching middle age, this recognition has +never failed. It came, for example, to Wordsworth and +Coleridge long after their best work was done. It came with +more promptness to all the great Victorian novelists. This +recognition did not come in their lifetime to two Suffolk +friends, Edward FitzGerald with <i>Omar Khayyám</i> and +George Borrow with <i>Lavengro</i>. In the case of +FitzGerald there was probably no consciousness that he had +produced a great poem. In any case his sunny Irish +temperament could easily have surmounted disappointment if he had +expected anything from the world in the way of literary +fame. Borrow was quite differently made. He was as +intense an egoist as Rousseau, whose work he had probably never +read, and would not have appreciated if he had read. He +longed for the recognition of the multitude through his books, +and thoroughly enjoyed it when it was given to him for a +moment—for his <i>Bible in Spain</i>. Such +appreciation as he received in his lifetime was given to him for +that book and for no other. There were here and there +enthusiasts for his <i>Lavengro</i> and <i>Romany Rye</i>. +Dr. Jessopp has told us that he was one. But it was not +until long after his death that the word “Borrovian” +<a name="citation268"></a><a href="#footnote268" +class="citation">[268]</a> came into the language. Not a +single great author among his contemporaries praised him for his +<i>Lavengro</i>, the book for which we most esteem him +to-day. His name is not <a name="page269"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 269</span>mentioned by Carlyle or Tennyson or +Ruskin in all their voluminous works. Among the novelists +also he is of no account. Dickens and Thackeray and George +Eliot knew him not. Charlotte Brontë does indeed write +of him with enthusiasm, <a name="citation269a"></a><a +href="#footnote269a" class="citation">[269a]</a> but she is alone +among the great Victorian authors in this particular. +Borrow’s <i>Lavengro</i> received no commendation from +contemporary writers of the first rank. He died in his +seventy-eighth year an obscure recluse whose works were all but +forgotten. Since that year, 1881, his fame has been +continually growing. His greatest work, <i>Lavengro</i>, +has been reprinted with introductions by many able critics; <a +name="citation269b"></a><a href="#footnote269b" +class="citation">[269b]</a> notable essayists have proclaimed his +worth. Of these Mr. Watts-Dunton and Mr. Augustine Birrell +have been the most assiduous. The efforts of the former +have already been noted. Mr. Birrell has expressed his +devotion in more than one essay. <a name="citation269c"></a><a +href="#footnote269c" class="citation">[269c]</a> Referring +to a casual reference <a name="page270"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 270</span>by Robert Louis Stevenson to <i>The +Bible in Spain</i>, <a name="citation270a"></a><a +href="#footnote270a" class="citation">[270a]</a> in which R. L. +S. speaks well of that book, Mr. Birrell, not without irony, +says:</p> +<blockquote><p>It is interesting to know this, interesting, that +is, to the great Clan Stevenson, who owe suit and service to +their liege lord; but so far as Borrow is concerned, it does not +matter, to speak frankly, two straws. The author of +<i>Lavengro</i>, <i>The Romany Rye</i>, <i>The Bible in +Spain</i>, and <i>Wild Wales</i> is one of those kings of +literature who never need to number their tribe. His +personality will always secure him an attendant company, who, +when he pipes, must dance.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This is to sum up the situation to perfection. You +cannot force people to become readers of Borrow by argument, by +criticism, or by the force of authority. You reach the +stage of admiration and even love by effects which rise remote +from all questions of style or taste. To say, as does a +recent critic, that “there is something in Borrow after +all; not so much as most people suppose, but still a great +deal,” <a name="citation270b"></a><a href="#footnote270b" +class="citation">[270b]</a> is to miss the compelling power of +his best books as they strike those with whom they are among the +finest things in literature. In attempting to interest new +readers in the man—and this book is not for the sect called +Borrovians, to whom I recommend the earlier biographies, but for +a wider public which knows not Borrow—I hope I shall +succeed in sending many to those incomparable works, which have +given me so many pleasant hours.</p> +<h3><a name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +273</span>INDEXA</h3> +<p><i>Academy</i>, F. H. Groome’s review of <i>Word +Book</i>, 151</p> +<p>Aikin, Lucy, on Mrs. John Taylor, 39; on William Taylor, +40</p> +<p>Ainsworth, Harrison, <i>Lavengro</i> criticised by, 185</p> +<p><i>Ancient Poetry and Romances of Spain</i>, by Bowring, +82</p> +<p>Andalusia described, 124</p> +<p>André, Major, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 67</p> +<p><i>Annals of the Harford Family</i>, reference to Borrow in, +158</p> +<p><i>Apologia pro Vita Sua</i>, by J. H. Newman, 224</p> +<p>Arnold, Matthew, and George Borrow contrasted, 65</p> +<p><i>Athenæum</i>, <i>The</i>, Hasfeld’s letter on +Russian literature and Borrow in, 98, 99; friendly review of +<i>The Zincali</i> in, 147; severely criticises <i>Lavengro</i>, +184, 225—and <i>Romany Rye</i>, 225; reminiscences of +Borrow contributed to, 203, 204</p> +<p>Augsburg, Confession of, 169</p> +<p>Austin, John, 39</p> +<p>— Sarah, 37</p> +<p><i>Autobiographical Recollections of Sir John Bowring</i>, 81, +82</p> +<p><i>Autobiography of Harriet Martineau</i>, quoted, 40</p> +<h3>B</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Baldrey</span>, S. H., reminiscences of +the Borrows published by, 257–59</p> +<p>Barbauld, Mrs., 40</p> +<p>Baretti, Joseph, witnesses at trial of, 68</p> +<p>Bathurst, Bishop, 38, 66</p> +<p>Belcher, pugilist, 77</p> +<p>Bell, Catherine, 37</p> +<p><i>Benjamin Robert Haydon</i>; <i>Correspondence and Table +Talk</i>, by F. W. Haydon, 22</p> +<p><i>Bible in Spain</i>, <i>The</i>, 33, 158, 170, 191; quoted, +137, 154; episode of the blind girl, 120; brings fame to Borrow, +147, 157, 158; the title of, 153; criticisms of Mr. +Murray’s reader on copy of—number of copies +sold—referred to in House of Commons, 157; reviews of, 157, +161, 184; how written, 185; Gladstone’s admiration of, +203</p> +<p>Birrell, Augustine, 153; introduction to <i>Lavengro</i> by, +269</p> +<p>Black Forest, Borrow in the, 169</p> +<p><i>Blackwood’s Magazine</i>, condemns <i>Lavengro</i>, +184</p> +<p>Borrow, Ann, mother of Borrow, 8, 9, 12, 81, 142; life in +Norwich of, 14–16, 44; correspondence of, 16, 115, +120–23, 143; death—inscription on tomb of, 203</p> +<p><a name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +274</span>Borrow, Elizabeth, 192</p> +<p>— George Henry, biographical drafts, 7–13; +wandering childhood of, 25–35; schooldays at Norwich, +45–49; struggles and failure in London, 57–59; Celtic +ancestry of, 235; characteristics of, 15, 95, 188, 202, 204, 227, +252, 268; agent for Bible Society, 94, 117; work for the Society +in—Portugal, 113, 114—Russia, +97–109—Spain, 110–29; imprisonments of, 79, +117, 127, 144; correspondence of, with—Bowring, +84–89—Brackenbury, 128, 129—Ford, +161–167—Haydon, 22—Jerningham, +127—Henrietta MacOubrey, 259–64—his wife, +117–19, 123–26, 145, 172–82, 205, 206, +210–18, 221; Darwin asks information from, 205; fails to +become a magistrate, 139, 203; feeling of, as regards people and +language of Ireland, 32, 33, 195; friends of later years, +250–54; life of, in London, 244–49—in Oulton +Broad and Yarmouth, 199–206; attainments of, as a linguist, +33, 41, 42, 81; literary tastes of, 13, 26, 79, 155–57, +223, 224; literary methods of, 188; attitude towards literary +men, 224, 225, 252; marriage of, 128, 143, 144, 146, 147; +personal appearance, 147, 192, 200, 201; physical vigour of, 246, +258; political sympathies, 111; pugilistic tastes, 74–77; +translations by, 51, 78–80; travels +in—Austria-Hungary, 172–79—Greece and Italy, +179—82—Ireland, 220, 221—Portugal, 113, +114—Russia, 97–109—Scotland, +207–21—Spain, 110–29—Wales, 235, 236, +240–43; unfounded reports as to neglect of, when dying, +255, 256; unrecognised genius and growing fame of, 202, 268; +Yarmouth rescue episode, 192</p> +<p>Borrow, Henry, 192</p> +<p>— John, grandfather of George Henry, 8–10</p> +<p>—John Thomas, 9, 32; Captain Borrow’s love of, 10, +17; described in <i>Lavengro</i>, 17; pictures by, 19; career and +death of, 17–24</p> +<p>— Mary, 142–44, 184; correspondence with: Ann +Borrow, 236—G. H. Borrow, 93, 117–19, 123–26, +158, 159, 168–82, 193, 240–42, +244–46—Hake, 252, 253; epitaph written for, by +Borrow, 140; family history, 138–41; house-keeping genius +of, 256; marriage of, 93, 146; death of, 247, 248</p> +<p>— Captain Thomas, 17, 18, 25, 32, 55, 192; descent of, +8, 9; military career of, 8–10; referred to in +<i>Lavengro</i>, 10–13; prejudiced against the Irish, 33, +34; pensioned off, 44; his fight with Big Ben Brain, 74, 76</p> +<p>— William, 192</p> +<p>Bowring, Sir John, collaboration with Borrow, 80; +correspondence with Borrow, 84–89, 113, 114; described by +Borrow, 83, 84; Borrow’s relations with, 81–89</p> +<p>Boyd, Robert, 161</p> +<p>Brace, Charles L., 174</p> +<p>Brackenbury, Mr., letter from, to Borrow, 128, 129</p> +<p>Brain, Big Ben, 10–12, 76</p> +<p><a name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +275</span>Brandram, Rev. Mr., 94; correspondence of, with Borrow, +104, 105; letter from, to Mrs. Borrow, 115</p> +<p>British and Foreign Bible Society, aided by the Gurneys, 38; +Borrow’s connection with, 78, 90–93; growth and +procedure of, 91–93; sanctioned in Russia by the Czar, 92; +number of bibles issued in Spain for three years up to 1913, 113; +work of, in Spain, 111–29; breezy controversy between +Borrow and the, 117</p> +<p>Brontë, Charlotte, writes of Borrow with enthusiasm, +269</p> +<p><i>Brontës</i>, <i>The</i>, by Clement Shorter, quoted, +269</p> +<p>Brooke, Rajah, 45</p> +<p>Brown, Rev. Arthur, 28</p> +<p>Browne, Sir Thomas, 36</p> +<p>Browning, Robert, 68</p> +<p>Buchini, Antonio, Borrow’s attendant in Spain, 116</p> +<p>Bunsens, the invitation given to Borrow by, 158</p> +<p>Bunyan, what Borrow owed to, 224</p> +<p>Burcham, Thomas, 51</p> +<p>Burke, Edmund, 68</p> +<p><i>Bury Post</i>, <i>The</i>, account in, of life-saving by +Borrow at Yarmouth, 192</p> +<p>Buxton, Sir T. F., 37</p> +<p>— Lady, 37, 38, 58</p> +<h3>C</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Cagliostro</span>, trial of, included in +Borrow’s volumes, 67</p> +<p>Campbell, Thomas, 51, 66</p> +<p>Canton, William, 92</p> +<p>Carlyle, Thomas, 90, 97; <i>Miscellanies</i>, 42; point of +similitude between Borrow and, 243; on Edward FitzGerald, 228; +prejudiced against Scott, 41</p> +<p><i>Celebrated Trials</i>, Borrow’s first piece of +hack-work, 58; payment made to Borrow for, 68; distinguishing +feature of, 68; dramatic episodes in, 68, 69</p> +<p>Chamisso’s <i>Peter Schlemihl</i>, 83</p> +<p><i>Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem</i>, picture by Haydon, +21</p> +<p>Clarendon, Earl of, 191; befriends Borrow in Spain, 82, 114; +career of, and services to Borrow, 137–39</p> +<p>Clarke, Lieutenant Henry, 140, 142</p> +<p>Cobbe, Frances Power, 224; her opinion of Borrow, 90; her +story of Borrow and James Martineau, 49; unkindly glimpses of +Borrow given by—her character and works, 247, 248</p> +<p>Collins, Mortimer, his appreciation of <i>Wild Wales</i>, +239</p> +<p>Collinson, Robert, 247</p> +<p>Cooke, Robert, 233</p> +<p><i>Cornhill Magazine</i>, <i>The</i>, reviews <i>Wild +Wales</i> unfavourably, 236</p> +<p>“Corporation Feast, The,” plate of, borrowed for +<i>Life and Death of Faustus</i>, 61</p> +<p>Cowell, Professor E. C., friendship of, with FitzGerald, +230</p> +<p>Cowper, poet, Borrow’s devotion to, 8, 26</p> +<p>Crabbe, Mrs., 258</p> +<p>— George, FitzGerald’s letter to, 233</p> +<p>Cribb, pugilist, 77</p> +<p>Croft, Sir Herbert, 69</p> +<p>Crome, John, 19, 20, 37, 44</p> +<p>Cunningham, Mrs., 37</p> +<p>— Allan, writes introduction in verse to <i>Romantic +Ballads</i>; correspondence with Borrow, 64</p> +<p><a name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +276</span>Cunningham, Rev. Francis, befriends Borrow with the +Bible Society, 37, 38, 92, 93; his praise of Borrow, 110, 142</p> +<p>— Rev. John W., 92, 141</p> +<h3>D</h3> +<p><i>Dairyman’s Daughter</i>, <i>The</i>, extraordinary +vogue of, 58; Borrow’s failure to appreciate, 92</p> +<p>Dalrymple, Arthur, on schooldays of Borrow, 46; on Borrow and +his wife, 146</p> +<p>— John, joins Borrow in a schoolboy escapade, 46</p> +<p>Danube, description of the, 169</p> +<p>Darlow, T. H., <i>Letters to the Bible Society</i>, 102, 103, +105–7</p> +<p>Darwin, Charles, letter from, asking for information, +regarding the dogs of Spain, from Borrow, 205</p> +<p><i>Death of Balder</i>, <i>The</i>, translation by Borrow, +84</p> +<p><i>Deceived Merman</i>, <i>The</i>, versions by Borrow and +Matthew Arnold compared, 65</p> +<p>Defoe, Daniel, Borrow’s master in literature, 27, 79, +224</p> +<p>Denniss, Rev. E. P., acrid correspondence between Borrow and, +202</p> +<p>D’Eterville, Thomas, Borrow’s teacher, 46</p> +<p>Diaz, Maria, Borrow’s tribute to, 130</p> +<p>Domenico’s picture of the burial of Count of Orgaz, +119</p> +<p>Donne, W. B., letters to Borrow, 225, 233, 234; awards high +praise to <i>Romany Rye</i> and <i>Lavengro</i>, 225</p> +<p>Drake, William, description of Borrow by, 50</p> +<p>Dumpling Green, birthplace of Borrow, 7, 8, 26</p> +<h3>E</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">East Dereham</span>, described in +<i>Lavengro</i>, 7, 26</p> +<p><i>Eastern Daily Press</i>, <i>The</i>, Miss Harvey’s +letter on Borrow in, 200–2</p> +<p>Eastlake, Lady, her description of Borrow, 168</p> +<p>Edinburgh, childhood of Borrow in, 30–32</p> +<p><i>Edinburgh Review</i>, reviews Borrow’s works, 148</p> +<p>Elwin, Rev. Whitwell, his estimate of <i>Lavengro</i>, 186, +187; his interview with, and impressions of, Borrow, 187, 188; +letters to Borrow from, 189; reviews <i>Romany Rye</i> in +<i>Quarterly Review</i>, 225</p> +<p>Enghien, Duc d’, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 67</p> +<p><i>Essays Critical and Historical</i>, by J. H. Newman, +quoted, 224</p> +<p><i>Excursions along the Shores of the Mediterranean</i>, +attractive glimpse of Borrow in, 130–34</p> +<h3>F</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Fauntleroy</span>, <span +class="smcap">Henry</span>, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 68, 69</p> +<p><i>Faustus</i>, translated by Borrow, 60–63, 67, 82; +burned by libraries of Norwich, 63; criticisms on, 63</p> +<p>Fenn, Lady, commemorated by Cowper, and in +<i>Lavengro</i>—books for children by, 26</p> +<p>— Sir John, author of Paston Letters, 26</p> +<p>Fielding, what Borrow owed to, 224</p> +<p>Fig, James, 75</p> +<p><a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>FitzGerald, Edward, parallel between Borrow +and—works of, 227, 228; character and gifts of, 227; +marriage of, 228; letters to Borrow, 228–33; criticises +Borrow’s expressions, 233</p> +<p>Ford, Richard, 78, 147, 191; family history and fortune of, +160, 161; anti-democratic outlook of, 161; his tribute to +Borrow—reviews <i>The Bible in Spain</i>, 161; +correspondence with the Borrows, 78, 161–68; odd sentence +referring to Borrow, in a letter of, 164; advice given to Borrow +by, 183; his ideas about <i>Lavengro</i>, 184; on <i>The +Zincali</i>, 148, 149; his work, 78, 64, 166, 167</p> +<p>— Sir Richard, creator of mounted police force of +London, 160</p> +<p>Fox, Caroline, 94</p> +<p><i>Frazer’s Magazine</i>, <i>Lavengro</i> condemned by, +184</p> +<p><i>French Prisoners of Norman Cross</i>, <i>The</i>, by Rev. +Arthur Brown, 28</p> +<p>Fry, Elizabeth, connection of, with Bible Society, 92; the +courtship of, 37, 38</p> +<h3>G</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Garrick</span>, <span +class="smcap">David</span>, 68</p> +<p>“George Borrow Reminiscences,” by S. H. Baldrey, +quoted, 257–59</p> +<p>Gibson, Robin, 31</p> +<p>Gifford, William, 59</p> +<p>Gill, Rev. W., letter to Borrow from, 197, 198</p> +<p>Glen, William, 97</p> +<p>Gypsies, language of, Borrow’s description of Hungarian, +175</p> +<p>Gladstone, W. E., his admiration of <i>The Bible in Spain</i>, +203</p> +<p>Glen, William, Borrow’s friendship with, 97</p> +<p>Graydon, Lieutenant, a rival of Borrow in Spain, 116</p> +<p>Groome, Archdeacon, his memories of Borrow’s schooldays, +50</p> +<p>— F. H., gypsy scholar, reviews <i>Romano Lavo-Lil</i>, +151, 152</p> +<p>Grundtvig, Mr., Borrow’s translations for, 88</p> +<p>Gully, John, career of, 77</p> +<p>Gurdons, the, subscribe to Borrow’s <i>Romantic +Ballads</i>, 66</p> +<p>Gurney, Miss Anna, letter from, to Mrs. Borrow, 155; Borrow +cross-examined in Arabic by, 204</p> +<p>— Daniel, 38</p> +<p>— John, 37</p> +<p>— Joseph John, connection of, with great bank, 37, 38; +and with Bible Society, 92; his praise of Borrow, 110</p> +<p>Gurneys, the, at Norwich, 37–39; subscribe to +Borrow’s <i>Romantic Ballads</i>, 66</p> +<p><i>Gypsies of Spain</i>, <i>The</i>. See <i>Zincali</i>, +<i>The</i>.</p> +<h3>H</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Hackman</span>, <span +class="smcap">Parson</span>, trial of, in Borrow’s volumes, +69</p> +<p>Haggart, David, 18; story of, 30, 31; trial and execution of, +32</p> +<p>Hake, Egmont, article of, in <i>Dictionary of National +Biography</i>, on Borrow, 252</p> +<p>— Dr. T. G., on <i>Lavengro</i>, 185, 250, 251; his +intimacy with Borrow, 250–54; relations of, with the +Rossetti family, 250; asperities of, when speaking of Borrow, +251, 252</p> +<p><a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +278</span>Hamilton, Duke of, 76</p> +<p><i>Handbook for Travellers in Spain</i>, by Richard Ford, 78; +Borrow’s blundering review of, 165, 166; Maxwell’s +praise of, 167</p> +<p>Hares, the, 66</p> +<p>Harvey, Miss Elizabeth, her impressions of Borrow, +200–2; letters to Mrs. MacOubrey from, 264, 265</p> +<p>Harveys, the, 66</p> +<p>Hasfeld, John P., 191; Borrow’s correspondence with, +97–101</p> +<p>Hawkes, Robert, 20–22, 66</p> +<p>Hawthorne, Nathaniel, suggestion of, as to gypsy descent of +Borrow, 9, 14</p> +<p>Haydon, Benjamin, 66; career of, 21–23; correspondence +of, with Borrow, 22, 79</p> +<p>Haydon, F. W., <i>Benjamin Robert Haydon</i>, 22</p> +<p>Hayim Ben Attar, Moorish servant of Borrow, 144</p> +<p>Heenan, pugilist, 75</p> +<p>Herne, Sanspirella, second wife of Ambrose Smith, 29</p> +<p>Hester, George P., writes to Borrow on possible connection +between Sclaves and Saxons, 226</p> +<p>Highland Society, the, Borrow’s proposal to, 80</p> +<p>Hill, Mary, 31</p> +<p><i>Historic Survey of German Poetry</i>, by William Taylor, +42</p> +<p><i>History of the British and Foreign Bible Society</i>, by +William Canton, 92</p> +<p>Howell, <i>State Trials</i> of, 67</p> +<p>Howitt, Mary, her appreciation of <i>Wild Wales</i>, 236, +237</p> +<p><i>Hungary in</i> 1851, glimpse of Borrow in, 174</p> +<p>Hunt, Joseph, trial and execution of, 71, 72</p> +<p>Hyde, Dr. Douglas, Irish scholar, 34</p> +<h3>I</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Ireland</span>, Borrow’s early years +in, 31–35; his feelings as regards people and language of, +195</p> +<p><i>Iris</i>, <i>The</i>, editing of, 41</p> +<h3>J</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Jackson</span>, <span +class="smcap">John</span>, pugilist, 74</p> +<p><i>Jane Eyre</i>, cruelly reviewed by Lady Eastlake, 168</p> +<p>Jay, Elizabeth, on happy married life of the Borrows, 146</p> +<p>Jerningham, Sir George, letter from, to Borrow, 127; +Borrow’s complaints to, 137</p> +<p>Jessopp, Dr., on Borrow as a pupil at the Grammar School, 45; +his admiration of Borrow, 203, 204</p> +<p>Joan of Arc, trial of, included in Borrow’s volumes, +67</p> +<p>Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 68; on Ireland and Irish Literature, 33; +his kindness for pugilists, 75</p> +<p>— Tom, his fight with Brain, 76</p> +<p><i>Joseph Sell</i>, 61</p> +<p>Jowett, Rev. Joseph, Secretary of the Bible Society, 38; +correspondence of, with Borrow, 97, 102, 103</p> +<h3>K</h3> +<p><i>Kæmpe Viser</i>, translation by Borrow, 84, 85</p> +<p>Keate, Dr., 106</p> +<p>Kerrison, Allday, 53; invites John Borrow to join him in +Mexico, 23</p> +<p>— Roger, 53, 60; Borrow’s correspondence with, 53, +90</p> +<p>— Thomas, 52</p> +<p><a name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>Kett, +Robert, 36</p> +<p>King, Thomas, owner of the Borrow house in Willow +Lane—descent of, from Archbishop Parker, 16</p> +<p>—, — junior, marries sister of J. S. Mill, 16</p> +<p>— Tom, conqueror of Heenan, 75</p> +<p>Klinger, F. M. von, works of, 62</p> +<p>Knapp, Dr., <i>Life of Borrow</i>, 3 and <i>passim</i>; +purchases half the Borrow papers, 155</p> +<h3>L</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">La Giralda</span>, 124</p> +<p>Lambert, Daniel, gaoler of Phillips, 56</p> +<p>Lamplighter, racehorse, Borrow’s desire to see, 205</p> +<p>Lang, Andrew, his onslaught on Borrow, 251</p> +<p>Laurie, Sir Robert, 16</p> +<p><i>Lavengro</i>, appreciations of, 148, 149, 185, 250, 251; +autobiographical nature of, 7, 9, 11, 12, 34, 38, 50–52, +57, 58, 185, 188, 244; copies of, sold, 190; criticisms and +reviews of, 184, 185, 186, 225; Donne on some reviewers of, 233, +234; greatness of, unrecognised in Borrow’s lifetime, 202; +preparation of manuscript of, 183, 184; Thurtell referred to in, +69</p> +<p><i>Leicester Herald</i> started by Phillips, 56</p> +<p>Leland, Charles Godfrey, correspondence of, with Borrow, +149–51; his books—tribute to Borrow, 151</p> +<p>Lenz, 169</p> +<p><i>Letters from George Borrow to the Bible Society</i>, 97, +98, 102; valuable information in, 110; interesting facts revealed +in, 155, 156; quoted, 106</p> +<p><i>Letters of Richard Ford</i>, 161; Borrow’s mistake in +reviewing, 165</p> +<p><i>Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell</i>, Borrow’s +story of the writing of, 61</p> +<p><i>Life of Borrow</i>, by Dr. Knapp, 3, and <i>passim</i>; +glimpse of Ann Perfrement’s girlhood in, 14; gruesome +picture of circumstances of Borrow’s death—strongly +denounced by Henrietta MacOubrey, 255</p> +<p><i>Life of B. R. Haydon</i>, by Tom Taylor, 21, 22</p> +<p><i>Life of David Haggart</i>, by himself, 31</p> +<p><i>Life of Frances Power Cobbe as told by Herself</i>, +glimpses of Borrow in, 246, 247</p> +<p><i>Life of Sir James Mackintosh</i>, quoted, 40</p> +<p><i>Lights on Borrow</i>, by Rev. A. Jessopp, D.D., quoted, +45</p> +<p>Lipóftsof, worker for Bible Society, 102, 105, 173</p> +<p><i>Literary Gazette</i>, <i>The</i>, reviews of Borrow’s +works in, 63, 147</p> +<p>Lloyd, Miss M. C., 247</p> +<p>Lopez, Eduardo, 130</p> +<p>— Juan, Borrow’s tribute to, 130</p> +<p>Luke, gypsy translation of, 119</p> +<p>Luther, Martin, 169</p> +<p><i>Lycidas</i>, Tennyson’s enthusiasm for, 185</p> +<h3>M</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Macaulay</span>, <span +class="smcap">Zachary</span>, connection of, with Bible Society, +91</p> +<p>Mace, Jem, 75</p> +<p>MacOubrey, Dr., 218, 256; status and accomplishments of, 259; +pamphlets issued by, 259; illness and death of, 266</p> +<p><a name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +280</span>MacOubrey, Henrietta, 3, 91, 123, 140, and +<i>passim</i>; on Borrow, 51; Borrow’s tribute to, in +<i>Wild Wales</i>—her devotion to Borrow, 255; unfounded +stories of her neglect of Borrow, 255–57; correspondence +of, 259–67; death of—inscription on tomb of, 266; +charitable bequests of, 267</p> +<p>Man, Isle of, Borrow’s expedition to, 195–98; his +investigations into the Manx language, 196, 197</p> +<p>Marie Antoinette, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 67</p> +<p>Martelli, C. F., his memories of Borrow, 54</p> +<p>Martineau, David, 39</p> +<p>— Dr. James, impressions of, as schoolfellow of Borrow, +46–48</p> +<p>— Gaston, 39</p> +<p>— Harriet, 39; on Borrow’s connection with the +Bible Society, 90</p> +<p>Maxwell, Sir W. S., praises Ford’s book, 167; criticises +<i>Lavengro</i>, 184</p> +<p>Meadows, Margaret, 39</p> +<p>— Sarah, 39</p> +<p><i>Memoir of the Life and Writings of William Taylor of +Norwich</i>, <i>A</i>, by J. W. Robbards, 40</p> +<p><i>Memoirs of Fifty Years</i>, by T. G. Hake, 250, 251</p> +<p><i>Memoirs of John Venning</i>, 95</p> +<p><i>Memoirs of the Public and Private Life of Sir Richard +Phillips</i>, 55, 56</p> +<p><i>Memoirs of Vidocq</i>, translated by Borrow, 80</p> +<p>Mendizábal, Borrow’s interview with, 114, 138</p> +<p>Mezzofanti, 136</p> +<p>Miles, H. D., his defence of prize-fighting, 74</p> +<p>Mill, John Stuart, Thomas King marries sister of, 16</p> +<p>Moira, Lord, 56</p> +<p>Mol, Benedict, 130, 155</p> +<p>Montague, Basil, his reference to Mrs. John Taylor, 40</p> +<p><i>Monthly Magazine</i>, <i>The</i>, 41, 43, 57; +Borrow’s work on, 58</p> +<p>Morrin, killed by David Haggart, 31</p> +<p>Morris, Lewis, Welsh bard, 238</p> +<p>— Sir Lewis, letter to Borrow, 238, 239</p> +<p>Moscow, monster bell at, 169</p> +<p>Mousehold Heath, historical and artistic associations of, 29, +36</p> +<p>Mousha, introduces Borrow to Taylor, 52; figures in +<i>Lavengro</i>, 52</p> +<p>Munich described, 169</p> +<p>Murray, John, publishes <i>The Zincali</i>, 147; +correspondence of Borrow with, 202</p> +<p>— Hon. R. D., 129</p> +<p>Murtagh, Irish friend of Borrow—figures in +<i>Lavengro</i>, 34</p> +<p><i>Museum</i>, <i>The</i>, 56</p> +<h3>N</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Nantes</span>, Edict of, Borrow’s +ancestors driven from France by Revocation of, 14, 39</p> +<p>Napier, Admiral Sir C., 130</p> +<p>— Col. E., 81; interesting account of Borrow by, +130–34</p> +<p>Nelson, Lord, a pupil of Norwich Grammar School, 45</p> +<p><i>Newgate Calendar</i>, edited by Borrow, 67, 68</p> +<p><i>Newgate Lives and Trials</i>, Borrow’s work on, +59</p> +<p>Newman, Cardinal, influenced towards Roman Catholicism by +Scott, 224</p> +<p><i>New Monthly Magazine</i>, <i>The</i>, 74</p> +<p><a name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 281</span>Ney, +Marshal, trial of, included in Borrow’s volumes, 67</p> +<p>Nicholas, Thomas, 192</p> +<p>Norfolk, Duke of, 56</p> +<p>Nore, mutiny at the, 16</p> +<p><i>Norfolk Chronicle</i>, missionary speech of Borrow referred +to in, 110</p> +<p>Norman Cross, French prisoners at, 10, 30; Borrow’s +memories of, 27–30</p> +<p><i>Norvicensian</i>, William Drake’s notice in, 50</p> +<p>Norwich, 36, 54, 86; Borrow’s description of, 51, 52; +satirised by Borrow, 61</p> +<h3>O</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">O’Connell</span>, <span +class="smcap">Daniel</span>, Borrow’s desire to see, +205</p> +<p>Oliver, Tom, pugilist, 76</p> +<p><i>Once a Week</i>, Borrow contributes to, 248</p> +<p>Opie, Mrs., 37</p> +<p><i>Oracle</i>, <i>The</i>, quoted, 76</p> +<p>Orford, Col. Lord, 23</p> +<p>Orgaz, Count of, Domenico’s picture of, 119</p> +<p>Overend and Gurney, banking firm, 37, 38</p> +<p>Owen, Goronwy, Borrow’s favourite Welsh bard, 242, +243</p> +<h3>P</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Pahlin</span>, 136</p> +<p>Painter, Edward, pugilist, 76</p> +<p>Palgrave, R. H. I., letters to Mrs. MacOubrey from, 265</p> +<p>Palmer, Professor E. H., gypsy scholar, 151</p> +<p>Park, Mr. Justice, 72</p> +<p>Parker, Archbishop, descent of Thomas King from, 16</p> +<p>Paterson, John, work of, for Bible Society in Russia, 92</p> +<p>Pennell, Mrs. Elizabeth Robins, her biography of Leland, +quoted, 159</p> +<p>Perfrement, Mary, grandmother of Borrow, 8, 14</p> +<p>— Samuel, grandfather of Borrow, 8, 14</p> +<p><i>Peter Schlemihl</i>, translated by Bowring, 83</p> +<p>Petrie, George, correspondence of Borrow with, 218, 219</p> +<p>Phillips, Lady, 57</p> +<p>— Sir Richard, 23, 43, 59; early days of, 55–56; +imprisonment of, 56; relations of, with Borrow, 57–59</p> +<p>Picts, the, Borrow on, 218, 219</p> +<p>Pilgrim, John, Borrow’s visits to, 258</p> +<p>Pischel, Professor Richard, criticises Borrow’s +etymologies, 223</p> +<p>Pott, Dr. A. F., gypsy scholar, 151</p> +<p><i>Prayer Book and Homily Society</i>, Borrow’s +correspondence with, 107, 108</p> +<p>Prize-fighting, Borrow’s taste for, 13, 52, +74–77</p> +<p>Probert, witness against Thurtell, 71</p> +<p>Prothero, Rowland E., 161</p> +<p>Purland, Francis, companion of Borrow in schoolboy escapade, +46</p> +<p>— Theodosius, 46</p> +<p>Pushkin, Alexander, Russian poet, translated by Borrow, +109</p> +<h3>Q</h3> +<p><i>Quarterly Review</i>, <i>The</i>, review of <i>Lavengro</i> +in, 186; of <i>Romany Rye</i> in, 225</p> +<h3>R</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Rackham</span>, <span +class="smcap">Tom</span>, 50</p> +<p>Rackhams, the, 66</p> +<p><i>Raising of Lazarus</i>, picture by Haydon, 21</p> +<p><a name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +282</span>Ratisbon, Borrow at, 169; Dean of, 170</p> +<p>Reay, Martha, murdered by Hackman, 69</p> +<p>Reeve, Henry, 39</p> +<p><i>Res Judicatæ</i>, by Augustine Birrell, 269</p> +<p>Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 68</p> +<p>Richmond, Legh, connection of, with Bible Society, 92</p> +<p><i>Rights of Man</i>, Phillips charged with selling, 56</p> +<p>Ritson, Mrs., 119, 125</p> +<p>Robbards, J. W., writes memoir of William Taylor, 40</p> +<p><i>Romano Lavo-Lil</i>, reviews of, 151, 152</p> +<p><i>Romantic Ballads</i>, translation from the Danish by +Borrow, 64–67, 82</p> +<p><i>Romany Rye</i>, <i>The</i>, 199; appreciations of, 148, +149, 152, 226, 230; autobiographical nature of, 185, 188; Borrow +embittered by failure of, 225; characters in, 223; defects of +Appendix, 223, 224; identification of localities of, 223; +philological criticism of, 223; preparation of manuscript of, +222; quoted, 116; reviews of, 225, 226</p> +<p>Ross, Janet, <i>Three Generations of Englishwomen</i>, 39</p> +<p>Rowe, Quartermaster, 16</p> +<p><i>Rubáiyát</i>, Fitzgerald’s paraphrase, +227; quoted in original and translated, 229; Tennyson’s +eulogy of, 231</p> +<h3>S</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">St. Petersburg</span>, Borrow in, +97–109</p> +<p>San Tomé, 119</p> +<p>Sampson, John, eminent gypsy expert—extraordinary +suggestion of, regarding Borrow, 223; criticises Borrow’s +etymologies, 223</p> +<p>Sayers, Dr., 40</p> +<p>Scott, Sir Walter, 42; Borrow’s prejudice against, 18, +223; influence of, on J. H. Newman, 224; Taylor’s influence +on, 40; writings of, admired by Borrow, 223</p> +<p><i>Servian Popular Poetry</i>, by Bowring, 82</p> +<p>Seville described, 124</p> +<p>Sharp, Granville, connection with Bible Society of, 91</p> +<p>Shorter, C. K., <i>The Brontës</i>, 269</p> +<p>Sidney, Algernon, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 68</p> +<p>Sierraina de Ronda, 124</p> +<p>Sigerson, Dr., Irish scholar, 34</p> +<p>Simeon, Charles, connection with Bible Society of, 92</p> +<p>Simpson, William, Borrow articled to, 50, 51; described by +Borrow, 50, 51</p> +<p>Skepper, Anne, 93, 140, 142</p> +<p>— Breame, 93</p> +<p>— Edmund, 93, 142</p> +<p><i>Sleeping Bard</i>, <i>The</i>, translation by Borrow, 80; +refused by publishers, 208</p> +<p>Smiles, Samuel, on publication of <i>The Zincali</i>, 147</p> +<p>Smith, Ambrose, the Jasper Petulengro of <i>Lavengro</i>, +28–30</p> +<p>— Fäden, 29</p> +<p>— Thomas, 30</p> +<p><i>Songs from Scandinavia</i>, translation by Borrow, 80</p> +<p><i>Songs of Scotland</i>, by Allan Cunningham, Borrow’s +appreciation of, 64</p> +<p>Southey, Robert, affection of, for William Taylor, 40; on +death of Taylor, 42</p> +<p><i>Spectator</i>, <i>The</i>, point of view of criticism of +Borrow of, 270; reviews <i>Wild Wales</i>, 236</p> +<p>Spencer quoted, 118</p> +<p><i>State Trials</i>, 67, 68</p> +<p><a name="page283"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +283</span>Stephen, Sir J. Fitzjames, 141</p> +<p>— Sir Leslie, 59</p> +<p>Stevenson, R. L., perfunctory references to Borrow in writings +of, 270</p> +<p>Strasbourg, 169</p> +<p>Struensee, Count, trial of, included in Borrow’s +volumes, 67</p> +<p>Sussex, Duke of, 40</p> +<p>Swan, Rev. William, 102</p> +<h3>T</h3> +<p><i>Targum</i>, translation by Borrow, 195; high praise of, 99, +108, 109</p> +<p>Taylor, Anne, describes Borrow’s appearance, 192</p> +<p>— Baron, Borrow’s meeting with, 136</p> +<p>— Dr. John, 39</p> +<p>— John, 39</p> +<p>— Mrs. John, 37; Basil Montague on, 40</p> +<p>— Richard, 39</p> +<p>— Robert, 192</p> +<p>— Tom, author of <i>Life of B. R. Haydon</i>, 21, 22</p> +<p>Taylor, William, 37, 44; dialogue in <i>Lavengro</i> between +Borrow and, 11; gives Borrow lessons in German, 51; gives Borrow +introductions to Phillips and Campbell, 52; his love of paradox, +47; influence of, on Borrow, 40; Harriet Martineau on, 40; his +friends and literary work, 40–42; correspondence with +Southey, 41; his testimony to Borrow’s knowledge of German, +60</p> +<p>Taylors, the, at Norwich, 37, 39–43</p> +<p>Tennyson on enthusiasm for <i>Lycidas</i>, 185; his eulogy of +FitzGerald’s translation of the +<i>Rubáiyát</i>, 231</p> +<p>Thackeray, W. M., Borrow’s attitude towards, 224, 252; +on Edward FitzGerald, 228</p> +<p>Thompson, W. H., 231</p> +<p><i>Three Generations of English women</i>, by Janet Ross, +39</p> +<p>Thurtell, Alderman, 71, 73</p> +<p>— John, 52, 66; trial of—glimpses of, in +Borrow’s books, 69–73; great authors who have +commented on crime of, 69, 70</p> +<p>Timbs, John, 66</p> +<p>Toledo described, 118, 119</p> +<p>Treve, Captain, 16</p> +<p>Turner, Dawson, 157, 185</p> +<p><i>Twelve Essays on the Phenomena of Nature</i>, Phillips +anxious to produce in a German dress, 57</p> +<p><i>Twelve Essays on the Proximate Causes</i>, Borrow unable to +translate into German—published in German, 58</p> +<h3>U</h3> +<p><i>Universal Review</i>, <i>The</i>, 58, 59; Borrow’s +work on, 58</p> +<p>Upcher, A. W., contributes reminiscences of Borrow to the +<i>Athenæum</i>, 204</p> +<p>Usóz y Rio, Don Luis de, letters from, to Borrow, +134–36</p> +<p>Utting, Mr., 172</p> +<h3>V</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Valpy</span>, <span class="smcap">Rev. +E.</span>, Borrow’s schoolmaster—story of Borrow +being flogged by, 46–49</p> +<p>Venning, John, work of, in Russia—befriends Borrow, +95</p> +<p>Victoria, Queen, visits gypsy encampment, 29</p> +<p>Vidocq, memoirs of, translated by Borrow, 80</p> +<p>Vienna described, 170</p> +<h3><a name="page284"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +284</span>W</h3> +<p><i>Wahrheit und Dichtung</i>, opening lines of, compared with +those of <i>Lavengro</i>, 7</p> +<p>Walpole, Horace, on Mr. Fenn, 26</p> +<p>Watts-Dunton, Theodore, criticism of Borrow’s work, 251; +on intimacy between Borrow and Hake, 250, 251; introduction to +<i>Lavengro</i> by, 269</p> +<p>Weare pamphlets, 71</p> +<p>— William, murder of, 71</p> +<p><i>Westminster Review</i>, 82</p> +<p>Whewell, Dr., 188</p> +<p>Wilberforce, William, connection of, with Bible Society, +91</p> +<p>Wilcock, Rev. J., his impressions of Borrow, 220</p> +<p><i>Wild Wales</i>, 9, 143, 246, 255; appreciations of, 233, +236, 238, 239; comparative failure of, 239; comparison of, with +Borrow’s three other great works, 242; high spirits of 243; +Lope de Vega’s ghost story referred to in, 237; reviews of, +236; time taken to write, 236</p> +<p><i>Wilhelm Meister</i>, quoted, 91</p> +<p><i>William Bodham Donne and his Friends</i>, Borrow described +in, 233, 234</p> +<p>Williams, J. Evan, letter from Borrow to, on similarity of +some Sclavonian and Welsh words, 237, 238</p> +<p>Woodhouses, the, 66</p> +<p>Wordsworth, Borrow’s estimate of, 224</p> +<p>Wormius, Olaus, 51</p> +<p>Wright, Dr. Aldis, 231</p> +<h3>Z</h3> +<p><i>Zincali</i>, <i>The</i>, work by Borrow, 29; criticisms of, +147, 148; number of copies of, sold, 158; editions of, issued, +147</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">The Temple Press<br /> +Letchworth<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ENGLAND</span></p> +<h2>Footnotes</h2> +<p><a name="footnote11a"></a><a href="#citation11a" +class="footnote">[11a]</a> <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. xiv.</p> +<p><a name="footnote11b"></a><a href="#citation11b" +class="footnote">[11b]</a> <i>Ibid.</i>, ch. xxiii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote15"></a><a href="#citation15" +class="footnote">[15]</a> <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. xxxvii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote20"></a><a href="#citation20" +class="footnote">[20]</a> <i>Lavengro</i>, ch. xxv.</p> +<p><a name="footnote21"></a><a href="#citation21" +class="footnote">[21]</a> <i>Life of B. R. Haydon</i>, by +Tom Taylor, 1853, vol. ii. p. 21.</p> +<p><a name="footnote22"></a><a href="#citation22" +class="footnote">[22]</a> <i>Benjamin Robert Haydon</i>: +<i>Correspondence and Table Talk</i>, with a Memoir by his son, +Frederic Wordsworth Haydon, vol. i. pp. 360–1.</p> +<p><a name="footnote33a"></a><a href="#citation33a" +class="footnote">[33a]</a> <i>The Bible in Spain</i>, ch. +xx.</p> +<p><a name="footnote33b"></a><a href="#citation33b" +class="footnote">[33b]</a> Dr. Johnson was the first as +Borrow was the second to earn this distinction. Johnson, as +reported by Boswell, says:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>I have long wished that the Irish +literature were cultivated</i>. <i>Ireland is known by +tradition to have been once the seat of piety and learning</i>, +<i>and surely it would be very acceptable to all those who are +curious on the origin of nations or the affinities of languages +to be further informed of the evolution of a people so ancient +and once so illustrious</i>. <i>I hope that you will +continue to cultivate this kind of learning which has too long +been neglected</i>, <i>and which</i>, <i>if it be suffered to +remain in oblivion for another century</i>, <i>may perhaps never +be retrieved</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote34"></a><a href="#citation34" +class="footnote">[34]</a> <i>Lavengro</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote39"></a><a href="#citation39" +class="footnote">[39]</a> <i>Three Generations of +Englishwomen</i>, by Janet Ross, vol. i. p. 3.</p> +<p><a name="footnote42"></a><a href="#citation42" +class="footnote">[42]</a> Reprinted in Carlyle’s +<i>Miscellanies</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote47"></a><a href="#citation47" +class="footnote">[47]</a> This is a contemptuous reference +in Martineau’s own words to “George Borrow, the +writer and actor of romance.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote49"></a><a href="#citation49" +class="footnote">[49]</a> <i>Life of Frances Power Cobbe as +told by Herself</i>, ch. xvii.</p> +<p><a name="footnote50"></a><a href="#citation50" +class="footnote">[50]</a> <i>Norvicensian</i>, 1888, p. +177.</p> +<p><a name="footnote51"></a><a href="#citation51" +class="footnote">[51]</a> The <i>Britannia</i> newspaper, +26th June, 1851.</p> +<p><a name="footnote54"></a><a href="#citation54" +class="footnote">[54]</a> Mr. C. F. Martelli of Staple Inn, +London, who has so generously placed this information at my +disposal. Mr. Martelli writes:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Old memories brought him to our office for +professional advice, and there I saw something of him, and a very +striking personality he was, and a rather difficult client to do +business with. One peculiarity I remember was that he +believed himself to be plagued by autograph hunters, and was +reluctant to trust our firm with his signature in any shape or +form, and that we in consequence had some trouble in inducing him +to sign his will. I have seen him sitting over my fire in +my room at that office for hours, half asleep, and crooning out +Romany songs while waiting for my chief.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote58"></a><a href="#citation58" +class="footnote">[58]</a> In <i>Lavengro</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote62"></a><a href="#citation62" +class="footnote">[62]</a> <i>Life and Death of Faustus</i>, +p. 59.</p> +<p><a name="footnote67a"></a><a href="#citation67a" +class="footnote">[67a]</a> <i>Celebrated Trials and +Remarkable Cases of Criminal Jurisprudence from the Earliest +Records to the Year</i> 1825. In six volumes. London: +Printed for Geo. Knight & Lacey, Paternoster Row, 1825. +Price £3 12 s. in boards.</p> +<p><a name="footnote67b"></a><a href="#citation67b" +class="footnote">[67b]</a> <i>The New and Complete Newgate +Calendar or Malefactors Recording Register</i>. By William +Jackson. Six vols. 1802.</p> +<p><a name="footnote67c"></a><a href="#citation67c" +class="footnote">[67c]</a> Cobbett and Howell’s +<i>State Trials</i>. In thirty-three volumes and index, +1809 to 1828. The last volume, apart from the index, was +actually published the year after Borrow’s <i>Celebrated +Trials</i>, that is, in 1826; but the last trial recorded was +that of Thistlewood in 1820. The editors were William +Cobbett, Thomas Bayly Howell, and his son, Thomas Jones +Howell.</p> +<p><a name="footnote70"></a><a href="#citation70" +class="footnote">[70]</a> Another witness attained fame by +her answer to the inquiry, “Was supper postponed?” +with the reply, “No, it was pork.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote79"></a><a href="#citation79" +class="footnote">[79]</a> Only thus can we explain +Borrow’s later declaration that he had <i>four</i> times +been in prison.</p> +<p><a name="footnote80a"></a><a href="#citation80a" +class="footnote">[80a]</a> <i>Memoirs of Vidocq</i>, +<i>Principal Agent of the French Police until</i> 1827, <i>and +now proprietor of the paper manufactory at St. +Mandé</i>. Written by himself. Translated from +the French. In Four Volumes. London: Whittaker, +Treacher and Arnot, Ave Maria Lane, 1829.</p> +<p><a name="footnote80b"></a><a href="#citation80b" +class="footnote">[80b]</a> This with other documents I have +presented to the Borrow Museum, Norwich.</p> +<p><a name="footnote80c"></a><a href="#citation80c" +class="footnote">[80c]</a> In 1830 Borrow had another +disappointment. He translated <i>The Sleeping Bard</i> from +the Welsh. This also failed to find a publisher. It +was issued in 1860, under which date we discuss it.</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="footnote91a"></a><a href="#citation91a" +class="footnote">[91a]</a> Keep not standing, fixed and +rooted,<br /> + Briskly venture, briskly roam:<br /> +Head and hand, where’er thou foot it,<br /> + And stout heart, are still at home.<br /> +In each land the sun does visit:<br /> + We are gay whate’er betide.<br /> +To give room for wandering is it,<br /> + That the world was made so wide.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">(Carlyle’s translation.)</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote91b"></a><a href="#citation91b" +class="footnote">[91b]</a> Through the will of his +stepdaughter, Henrietta MacOubrey.</p> +<p><a name="footnote92"></a><a href="#citation92" +class="footnote">[92]</a> Canton’s <i>History of the +Bible Society</i>, vol. i. 195.</p> +<p><a name="footnote102"></a><a href="#citation102" +class="footnote">[102]</a> <i>Letters of George Borrow to +the British and Foreign Bible Society</i>, published by Direction +of the Committee. Edited by T. H. Darlow. Hodder and +Stoughton, 1911. The Russian Correspondence occupies pages +1–97.</p> +<p><a name="footnote103a"></a><a href="#citation103a" +class="footnote">[103a]</a> Darlow: <i>Letters to the Bible +Society</i>, p. 32.</p> +<p><a name="footnote103b"></a><a href="#citation103b" +class="footnote">[103b]</a> <i>Ibid.</i>, p. 47.</p> +<p><a name="footnote103c"></a><a href="#citation103c" +class="footnote">[103c]</a> <i>Ibid.</i>, pp. 60, 61.</p> +<p><a name="footnote104"></a><a href="#citation104" +class="footnote">[104]</a> Mr. Glen.</p> +<p><a name="footnote105"></a><a href="#citation105" +class="footnote">[105]</a> Darlow: <i>Letters to the Bible +Society</i>, p. 96.</p> +<p><a name="footnote106"></a><a href="#citation106" +class="footnote">[106]</a> Darlow: <i>Letters to the Bible +Society</i>, p. 65.</p> +<p><a name="footnote107"></a><a href="#citation107" +class="footnote">[107]</a> Darlow: <i>Letters to the +Bible Society</i>, p. 81.</p> +<p><a name="footnote110"></a><a href="#citation110" +class="footnote">[110]</a> <i>Norfolk Chronicle</i>, 17th +October, 1835.</p> +<p><a name="footnote113"></a><a href="#citation113" +class="footnote">[113]</a> When in Madrid in May, 1913, I +called upon Mr. William Summers, the courteous Secretary of the +Madrid Branch of the British and Foreign Bible Society in the +Flor Alta. Mr. Summers informs me that the issues of the +British and Foreign Bible Society, Bibles and Testaments, in +Spain for the years 1910–12 are as follows:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>Year.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Bibles.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Testaments.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Portions.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Total.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1910</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,309</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,971</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">70,594</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">84,874</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1911</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,665</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11,481</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">79,525</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">96,671</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1912</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">9,083</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11,842</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">85,024</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">105,949</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>The Calle del Principe is now rapidly being pulled down and +new buildings taking the place of those Borrow knew.</p> +<p><a name="footnote145a"></a><a href="#citation145a" +class="footnote">[145a]</a> The following suggestion has, +however, been made to me by a friend of Henrietta MacOubrey, +<i>née</i> Clarke:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I think Borrow intended +‘Carreta’ for ‘dearest.’ It is +impossible to think that he would call his wife a +‘cart.’ Perhaps he intended +‘Carreta’ for ‘Querida.’ Probably +their pronunciation was not Castillian, and they spelled the word +as they pronounced it. In speaking of her to +‘Hen.’ Borrow always called her +‘Mamma.’ Mrs. MacOubrey took a great fancy to +me because she said I was like ‘Mamma.’ She +meant in character, not in person.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote148"></a><a href="#citation148" +class="footnote">[148]</a> Knapp’s <i>Life</i>, vol. +i. p. 378.</p> +<p><a name="footnote151"></a><a href="#citation151" +class="footnote">[151]</a> <i>The Academy</i>, 13th +June, 1874.</p> +<p><a name="footnote155"></a><a href="#citation155" +class="footnote">[155]</a> This was Miss Catherine Gurney, +who was born in 1776, in Magdalen Street, Norwich, and died at +Lowestoft in 1850, aged seventy-five. She twice presided +over the Earlham home. The brother referred to was Joseph +John Gurney.</p> +<p><a name="footnote159"></a><a href="#citation159" +class="footnote">[159]</a> 4750 copies were sold in the +three volume form in 1843, and a sixth and cheaper edition the +same year sold 9000 copies.</p> +<p><a name="footnote164"></a><a href="#citation164" +class="footnote">[164]</a> <i>The Times</i>, 12th April, +1843.</p> +<p><a name="footnote197"></a><a href="#citation197" +class="footnote">[197]</a> The whole of this diary will be +issued in my edition of <i>The Collected Works</i>. It has +appeared, with my permission, in the Manx Folk Lore Magazine, +<i>Mannin</i>, November, 1914.</p> +<p><a name="footnote199"></a><a href="#citation199" +class="footnote">[199]</a> They lived first at 169 King +Street, then at two addresses unknown, then successively at 37, +38 and 39 Camperdown Terrace; their last address was 28 Trafalgar +Place.</p> +<p><a name="footnote229"></a><a href="#citation229" +class="footnote">[229]</a> I am indebted to Mr. +Edward Heron-Allen for the information that this is the original +of the last verse but one in FitzGerald’s first version of +the <i>Rubáiyát</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>r 74.</p> +<p>Ah Moon of my Delight, who knowest no wane,<br /> +The Moon of Heaven is rising once again,<br /> + How oft, hereafter rising, shall she look<br /> +Through this same Garden after me—in vain.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote255"></a><a href="#citation255" +class="footnote">[255]</a> Henrietta’s guitar is now +in my possession and is a very handsome instrument.</p> +<p><a name="footnote256"></a><a href="#citation256" +class="footnote">[256]</a> Henrietta MacOubrey put every +difficulty in the way of Dr. Knapp, and I hold many letters from +her strongly denouncing his <i>Life</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote268"></a><a href="#citation268" +class="footnote">[268]</a> A word that is very misleading, +as no writer was ever so little the founder of a school.</p> +<p><a name="footnote269a"></a><a href="#citation269a" +class="footnote">[269a]</a> Although this fact was not +known until 1908 when I published <i>The Brontës</i>: +<i>Life and Letters</i>. See vol. ii. p. 24, where +Charlotte Brontë writes: “In George Borrow’s +works I found a wild fascination, a vivid graphic power of +description, a fresh originality, an athletic simplicity, which +give them a stamp of their own.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote269b"></a><a href="#citation269b" +class="footnote">[269b]</a> Theodore Watts-Dunton, +Augustine Birrell and Francis Hindes Groome. Lionel +Johnson’s essay on Borrow is the more valuable in its +enthusiasm in that it was written by a Roman Catholic. +Writing in the <i>Outlook</i> (1st April, 1899) he said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“What the four books mean and are to their +lovers is upon this sort. Written by a man of intense +personality, irresistible in his hold upon your attention, they +take you far afield from weary cares and business into the +enamouring airs of the open world, and into days when the +countryside was uncontaminated by the vulgar conventions which +form the worst side of ‘civilised’ life in +cities. They give you the sense of emancipation, of +manumission into the liberty of the winding road and fragrant +forest, into the freshness of an ancient country-life, into a +<i>milieu</i> where men are not copies of each other. And +you fall in with strange scenes of adventure, great or small, of +which a strange man is the centre as he is the scribe; and from a +description of a lonely glen you are plunged into a dissertation +upon difficult old tongues, and from dejection into laughter, and +from gypsydom into journalism, and everything is equally +delightful, and nothing that the strange man shows you can come +amiss. And you will hardly make up your mind whether he is +most Don Quixote, or Rousseau, or Luther, or Defoe; but you will +always love these books by a brave man who travelled in far +lands, travelled far in his own land, travelled the way of life +for close upon eighty years, and died in perfect solitude. +And this will be the least you can say, though he would not have +you say it—<i>Requiescat in pace Viator</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote269c"></a><a href="#citation269c" +class="footnote">[269c]</a> In <i>Res Judicatæ</i>, +1892 (a paper reprinted from <i>The Reflector</i>, 8th January, +1888), in his introduction to <i>Lavengro</i> (Macmillan, 1900), +in an essay entitled “The Office of Literature,” in +the second series of <i>Obiter Dicta</i>, and in an address at +Norwich, on 5th July, 1913, reprinted in full in the <i>Eastern +Daily Press</i> of 7th July, 1913.</p> +<p><a name="footnote270a"></a><a href="#citation270a" +class="footnote">[270a]</a> There are but three references +to Borrow in Stevenson’s writings, all of them +perfunctory. These are in <i>Memories and Portraits</i> +(“A Gossip on a Novel of Dumas’”), in +<i>Familiar Studies of Men and Books</i> (“Some Aspects of +Robert Burns”), and in <i>The Ideal House</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote270b"></a><a href="#citation270b" +class="footnote">[270b]</a> <i>The Spectator</i>, 12th +July, 1913.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF GEORGE BORROW***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 38662-h.htm or 38662-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/6/6/38662 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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