There appears to have been some difficulty about payment for Borrow's contributions to the now defunct review, which considerably widened the breach that the Trials had created. Sir Richard became more exacting and more than ever critical. {49b} The end could not be far off. Borrow had come to London determined to be an author, and by no juggling with facts could his present drudgery be considered as authorship. Occasionally his mind reverted to the manuscripts in the green box, his faith in which continued undiminished. He made further efforts to get his translations published, but everywhere the answer was the same, in effect, "A drug, sir, a drug!"

At last he determined to approach John Murray (the Second), "Glorious John, who lived at the western end of the town"; but he called many times without being successful in seeing him. Another seventeen years were to elapse before he was to meet and be published by John Murray.

Yet another dispute arose between Borrow and Sir Richard Phillips. Neither appeared to have realised the supreme folly of entrusting to a young Englishman the translation into German of an English work. A novel would have presented almost insurmountable difficulties; but a work of philosophy! The whole project was absurd. The diction of philosophy in all languages is individual, just as it is in other branches of science, and a very thorough knowledge of, and deep reading in both languages are necessary to qualify a man to translate from a foreign tongue into his own. To expect an inexperienced youth to reverse the order seems to suggest that Sir Richard Phillips must have been a publisher whose enthusiasm was greater than his judgment.

One day when calling at Tavistock Square, Borrow found Sir Richard in a fury of rage. He had submitted the first chapter of the translation of Proximate Causes to some Germans, who found it utterly unintelligible. This was only to be expected, as Borrow confesses that, when he found himself unable to comprehend what was the meaning of the English text, he had translated it LITERALLY INTO GERMAN!

The result of the interview was that Borrow, after what appears to be a tactless, not to say impertinent, rejoinder, {50a} relapsed into silence and finally left the house, ordered back to his compilation by Sir Richard, as soon as he became sufficiently calm to appear coherent, and Borrow walked away musing on the "difference in clever men."

The discovery of the inadequacy of the German translation apparently urged Borrow to hasten on with Celebrated Trials. The Universal Review was dead, the German version of Proximate Causes {50b} had passed out of his hands. It was desirable, therefore, that the remaining undertaking should be completed as soon as possible, that the two might part. The last of the manuscript was delivered, the proofs passed for press, and on 19th March the work appeared, the six volumes, running to between three and four thousand pages, containing accounts of some four hundred trials, including that of Borrow's old friend Thurtell for the murder of Mr Weare.

Borrow's name did not appear. He was "the editor," and as such was referred to in the preface contributed by Sir Richard himself. Among other things he tells of how, in some cases, "the Editor has compressed into a score of pages the substance of an entire volume." Sir Richard was a philosopher as well as a preface-writing publisher, and it was only natural that he should speculate as to the effect upon his editor's mind of months spent in reading and editing such records of vice. "It may be expected," he writes, "that the Editor should convey to his readers the intellectual impressions which the execution of his task has produced on his mind. He confesses that they are mournful." Sir Richard was either a master of irony, or a man of singular obtuseness.

One effect of this delving into criminal records had been to raise in Borrow's mind strange doubts about virtue and crime. When a boy, he had written an essay in which he strove to prove that crime and virtue were mere terms, and that we were the creatures of necessity or circumstance. These broodings in turn reawakened the theory that everything is a lie, and that nothing really exists except in our imaginations. The world was "a maze of doubt." These indications of an overtaxed brain increased, and eventually forced Borrow to leave London. His work was thoroughly uncongenial. He disliked reviewing; he had failed in his endeavours to render Proximate Causes into intelligible German; and it had taken him some time to overcome his dislike of the sordid stories of crime and criminals that he had to read and edit. He became gloomy and depressed, and prone to compare the real conditions of authorship with those that his imagination had conjured up.

The most important result of his labours in connection with Celebrated Trials was that upon his literary style. There is a tremendous significance in the following passage. It tells of the transition of the actual vagabond into the literary vagabond, with power to express in words what proved so congenial to Borrow's vagabond temperament:

"Of all my occupations at this period I am free to confess I liked that of compiling the Newgate Lives and Trials [Celebrated Trials] the best; that is, after I had surmounted a kind of prejudice which I originally entertained. The trials were entertaining enough; but the lives—how full were they of wild and racy adventures, and in what racy, genuine language were they told. What struck me most with respect to these lives was the art which the writers, whoever they were, possessed of telling a plain story. It is no easy thing to tell a story plainly and distinctly by mouth; but to tell one on paper is difficult indeed, so many snares lie in the way. People are afraid to put down what is common on paper, they seek to embellish their narratives, as they think, by philosophic speculations and reflections; they are anxious to shine, and people who are anxious to shine can never tell a plain story. 'So I went with them to a music booth, where they made me almost drunk with gin, and began to talk their flash language, which I did not understand,' {52a} says, or is made to say, Henry Simms, executed at Tyburn some seventy years before the time of which I am speaking. I have always looked upon this sentence as a masterpiece of the narrative style, it is so concise and yet so clear." {52b}

By the time the work was published and Borrow had been paid his fee, all relations between editor and publisher had ceased, and there was "a poor author, or rather philologist, upon the streets of London, possessed of many tongues," which he found "of no use in the world." {52c} A month after the appearance of Celebrated Trials (18th April), and a little more than a year after his arrival in London, Borrow published a translation of Klinger's Faustus. {53a} He himself gives no particulars as to whether it was commissioned or no. It may even have been "the Romance in the German style" from the Green Box. It is known that he received payment for it by a bill at five or six months, {53b} but there is no mention of the amount. It would appear that the translation had long been projected, for in The Monthly Magazine, July 1824, there appeared, in conjunction with the announcement of Celebrated Trials, the following paragraph: "The editor of the preceding has ready for the press, a Life of Faustus, his Death and Descent into Hell, which will also appear the next winter."

Faustus did not meet with a very cordial reception. The Literary Gazette (16th July 1825) characterised it as "another work to which no respectable publisher ought to have allowed his name to be put. The political allusion 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."

Borrow had apparently been in some doubt about certain passages, for in a note headed "The Translator to the Public," he defends the work as moral in its general teaching:

"The publication of the present volume may at first sight appear to require some brief explanation from the Translator, inasmuch as the character of the incidents may justify such an expectation on the part of the reader. It is, therefore, necessary to state that, although scenes of vice and crime are here exhibited, it is merely in the hope that they may serve as beacons, to guide the ignorant and unwary from the shoals on which they might otherwise be wrecked. The work, when considered as a whole, is strictly moral."

It must be confessed that Faustus does not err on the side of restraint. Many of its scenes might appear "lewd . . . and coarse" to anyone who for a moment allowed his mind to wander from the morality of "its general teaching." The attacks upon the lax morals of the priesthood must have proved particularly congenial to the translator.

The more Borrow read his translations of Ab Gwilym, the more convinced he became of their merit and the profit they would bring to him who published them. The booksellers, however, with singular unanimity, declined the risk of introducing to the English public either Welsh or Danish ballads; and their translator became so shabby in consequence, that he refrained from calling upon his friend Arden, for whom he had always cherished a very real friendship. He began to lose heart. His energy left him and with it went hope. He was forced to review his situation. Authorship had obviously failed, and he found himself with no reasonable prospect of employment.

There is no episode in Borrow's life that has so exercised the minds of commentators and critics as his account of the book he terms in Lavengro, The Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell, the Great Traveller. Some dismiss the whole story as apocryphal; others see in it a grain of truth distorted into something of vital importance; whilst there are a number of earnest Borrovians that accept the whole story as it is written. Dr Knapp has said that Joseph Sell "was not a book at all, and the author of it never said that it was." This was obviously an error, for the bookseller is credited with saying, "I think I shall venture on sending your book to the press," {55a} referring to it as a "book" four times in nine lines. Again, in another place, Borrow describes how he rescued himself "from peculiarly miserable circumstances by writing a book, an original book, within a week, even as Johnson is said to have written his Rasselas and Beckford his Vathek." {55b} This removes all question of the Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell being included in a collection of short stories. The title would not be the same, the date is most probably wrongly given, as in the case of Marshland Shales; but the general accuracy of the account as written seems to be highly probable. Many efforts have been made to trace the story; but so far unsuccessfully. It must be remembered that Borrow loved to stretch the long arm of coincidence; but he loved more than anything else a dramatic situation. He was always on the look out for effective "curtains."

In favour of the story having been actually written, is the knowledge that Borrow invented little or nothing. Collateral evidence has shown how little he deviated from actual happenings, although he did not hesitate to revise dates or colour events. The strongest evidence, however, lies in the atmosphere of truth that pervades Chapters LV.-LVII. of Lavengro. They are convincing. At one time or another during his career, it would appear that Borrow wrote against time from grim necessity; otherwise he must have been a master of invention, which everything that is known about him clearly shows that he was not.

Joseph Sell has disappeared, a most careful search of the Registers at Stationers' Hall can show no trace of that work, or any book that seems to suggest it, and the contemporary literary papers render no assistance.

According to Borrow's own account, one morning on getting up he found that he had only half a crown in the world. It was this circumstance, coupled with the timely notice that he saw affixed to a bookseller's window to the effect that "A Novel or Tale is much wanted," that determined him to endeavour to emulate Dr Johnson and William Beckford. He had tired of "the Great City," and his thoughts turned instinctively to the woods and the fields, where he could be free to meditate and muse in solitude.

When he returned to Milman Street after seeing the bookseller's advertisement, he found that his resources had been still further reduced to eighteen-pence. He was too proud to write home for assistance, he had broken with Sir Richard Phillips, and he had no reasonable expectation of obtaining employment of any description; for his accomplishments found no place in the catalogue of everyday wants. He was a proper man with his hands, and knew some score or more languages. No matter how he regarded the situation, the facts were obvious. Between him and actual starvation there was the inconsiderable sum of eighteen-pence and the bookseller's advertisement. The gravity of the situation banished the cloud of despondency that threatened to settle upon him, and also the doubts that presented themselves as to whether he possessed the requisite ability to produce what the bookseller required. The all-important question was, could he exist sufficiently long on eighteen-pence to complete a story? Sir Richard Phillips had told him to live on bread and water. He now did so.

For a week he wrote ceaselessly at the Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell, the Great Traveller. He wrote with the feverish energy of a man who sees the shadow of actual starvation cast across his manuscript. When the tale was finished there remained the work of revision, and after that, worst of all, fears lest the bookseller were already suited.

Fortune, however, was kind to him, and he was successful in extracting for his story the sum of twenty pounds. Borrow had not mixed among gypsies for nothing. He, a starving and unknown author, succeeded in extracting from a bookseller twenty pounds for a story, twice the amount offered by Sir Richard Phillips for a novel on the lines of The Dairyman's Daughter. It was an achievement.

The first argument against the story, as related by Borrow, is that he was not without resources at the time. Why should he be so impoverished a few weeks after receiving payment for Celebrated Trials? {57a} Above all, why did he not realise upon Simpkin & Marshall's bill for Faustus? He would have experienced no difficulty in discounting a bill accepted by such a firm. It seems hardly conceivable that he should preserve this piece of paper when he had only eighteen-pence in the world. Everything seems to point to the fact that in May 1825 Borrow was not in want of money, and if he were not, why did he almost kill himself by writing the Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell? Again, at that period he had met with no adventures such as might be included in the life of a "Great Traveller," and Borrow was not an inventive writer. Later he possessed plenty of material; for there can be no question that he roamed about the world for a considerable portion of those seven mysterious years of his life that came to be known as the "Veiled Period." His accuracy as to actual occurrences has been so emphasised that this particular argument holds considerable significance.

The strongest evidence against Joseph Sell having been written in 1825, however, lies in the fact that Greenwich Fair was held on 23rd May, and not 12th May, as given by Dr Knapp. By his error Dr Knapp makes Borrow leave London a day before the Fair took place that he describes. Borrow must have left London on the day following Greenwich Fair (24th May). If he left later, then those things which tend to confirm his story of the life in the Dingle do not fit in, as will be seen. He certainly could not have left before Greenwich Fair was held.

In one of his brother John's letters, written at the end of 1829, there is a significant passage, "Let me know how you sold your manuscript." {58a} What manuscript is it that is referred to? There is no record of George having sold a manuscript in the autumn of 1829. The passage can scarcely have reference to some article or translation; it seems to suggest something of importance, an event in George's life that his brother is anxious to know more about. If this be Joseph Sell, then it explains where Borrow got the money from to go up to London at the end of 1829, when he entered into relations with Dr Bowring. It is merely a theory, it must be confessed; but there is certain evidence that seems to support it. In the first place, Borrow was a chronicler before all else. He possessed an amazing memory and a great gift for turning his experiences into literary material. If he coloured facts, he appears to have done so unconsciously, to judge from those portions of The Bible in Spain that were covered by letters to the Bible Society. Not only are the facts the same, but, with very slight changes, the words in which he relates them. He never hesitated to change a date if it served his purpose, much as an artist will change the position of a tree in a landscape to suit the exigencies of composition. His five volumes of autobiography bristle with coincidences so amazing that, if they were actually true, he must have been the most remarkable genius on record for attracting to himself strange adventures. He met the sailor son of the old Apple-Woman returning from his enforced exile; Murtagh tells him of how the postilion frightened the Pope at Rome by his denunciation, a story Borrow had already heard from the postilion himself; the Hungarian at Horncastle narrates how an Armenian once silenced a Moldavian, the same Moldavian whom Borrow had encountered in London; the postilion meets the man in black again. There are scores of such coincidences, which must be accepted as dramatic embellishments.



CHAPTER IV: MAY-SEPTEMBER 1825



Fourteen months in London had shown Borrow how hard was the road of authorship. He confessed that he was not "formed by nature to be a pallid indoor student." "The peculiar atmosphere of the big city" did not agree with him, and this fact, together with the anxiety and hard work of the past twelve months, caused him to flag, and his first thought was how to recover his health. He was disillusioned as to the busy world, and the opportunities it offered to a young man fired with ambition to make a stir in it. He determined to leave London, which he did towards the end of May, {60a} first despatching his trunk "containing a few clothes and books to the old town [Norwich]." He struck out in a south-westerly direction, musing on his achievements as an author, and finding that in having preserved his independence and health, he had "abundant cause to be grateful."

Throughout his life Borrow was hypnotised by independence. Like many other proud natures, he carried his theory of independence to such an extreme as to become a slave to it and render himself unsociable, sometimes churlish. It was this virtue carried to excess that drove Borrow from London. He must tell men what was in his mind, and his one patron, Sir Richard Phillips, he had mortally offended in this manner.

Finding that he was unequal to much fatigue, after a few hours' walking he hailed a passing coach, which took him as far as Amesbury in Wiltshire. From here he walked to Stonehenge and on to Salisbury, "inspecting the curiosities of the place," and endeavouring by sleep and good food to make up the wastage of the last few months. The weather was fine and his health and spirits rapidly improved as he tramped on, his "daily journeys varying from twenty to twenty-five miles." He encountered the mysterious stranger who "touched" against the evil eye. F. H. Groome asserts, on the authority of W. B. Donne, that this was in reality William Beckford. Borrow must have met him at some other time and place, as he had already left Fonthill in 1825. It is, however, interesting to recall that Borrow himself "touched" against the evil eye. Mr Watts-Dunton has said:

"There was nothing that Borrow strove against with more energy than the curious impulse, which he seems to have shared with Dr Johnson, to touch the objects along his path in order to save himself from the evil chance. He never conquered the superstition. In walking through Richmond Park he would step out of his way constantly to touch a tree, and he was offended if the friend he was with seemed to observe it." {61a}

The chance meeting with Jack Slingsby (in fear of his life from the Flaming Tinman, and bound by oath not to continue on the same beat) gave Borrow the idea of buying out Slingsby, beat, plant, pony and all. "A tinker is his own master, a scholar is not," {61b} he remarks, and then proceeds to draw tears and moans from the dispirited Slingsby and his family by a description of the joys of tinkering, "the happiest life under heaven . . . pitching your tent under the pleasant hedge-row, listening to the song of the feathered tribes, collecting all the leaky kettles in the neighbourhood, soldering and joining, earning your honest bread by the wholesome sweat of your brow." {62a}

By the expenditure of five pounds ten shillings, plus the cost of a smock-frock and some provisions, George Borrow, linguist, editor and translator, became a travelling tinker. With his dauntless little pony, Ambrol, he set out, a tinkering Ulysses, indifferent to what direction he took, allowing the pony to go whither he felt inclined. At first he experienced some apprehension at passing the night with only a tent or the stars as a roof. Rain fell to mar the opening day of the adventure, but the pony, with unerring instinct, led his new master to one of Slingsby's usual camping grounds.

In the morning Borrow fell to examining what it was beyond the pony and cart that his five pounds ten shillings had purchased. He found a tent, a straw mattress and a blanket, "quite clean and nearly new." There were also a frying-pan, a kettle, a teapot (broken in three pieces) and some cups and saucers. The stock-in-trade "consisted of various tools, an iron ladle, a chafing-pan, and small bellows, sundry pans and kettles, the latter being of tin, with the exception of one which was of copper, all in a state of considerable dilapidation." The pans and kettles were to be sold after being mended, for which purpose there was "a block of tin, sheet-tin, and solder." But most precious of all his possessions was "a small anvil and bellows of the kind which are used in forges, and two hammers such as smiths use, one great, and the other small." {62b} Borrow had learned the blacksmith's art when in Ireland, and the anvil, bellows and smith's hammers were to prove extremely useful.

A few days after pitching his tent, Borrow received from his old enemy Mrs Herne, Mr Petulengro's mother-in-law, a poisoned cake, which came very near to ending his career. He then encountered the Welsh preacher ("the worthiest creature I ever knew") and his wife, who were largely instrumental in saving him from Mrs Herne's poison. Having remained with his new friends for nine days, he accompanied them as far as the Welsh border, where he confessed himself the translator of Ab Gwilym, giving as an excuse for not accompanying them further that it was "neither fit nor proper that I cross into Wales at this time, and in this manner. When I go into Wales, I should wish to go in a new suit of superfine black, with hat and beaver, mounted on a powerful steed, black and glossy, like that which bore Greduv to the fight of Catraeth. I should wish, moreover," he continued, "to see the Welshmen assembled on the border ready to welcome me with pipe and fiddle, and much whooping and shouting, and to attend me to Wrexham, or even as far as Machynllaith, where I should wish to be invited to a dinner at which all the bards should be present, and to be seated at the right hand of the president, who, when the cloth was removed, should arise, and amidst cries of silence, exclaim—'Brethren and Welshmen, allow me to propose the health of my most respectable friend the translator of the odes of the great Ab Gwilym, the pride and glory of Wales.'" {63a}

He returned with Mr Petulengro, who directed him to Mumber Lane (Mumper's Dingle), near Willenhall, in Staffordshire, "the little dingle by the side of the great north road." Here Borrow encamped and shod little Ambrol, who kicked him over as a reminder of his clumsiness.

He had refused an invitation from Mr Petulengro to become a Romany chal and take a Romany bride, the granddaughter of his would-be murderess, who "occasionally talked of" him. He yearned for solitude and the country's quiet. He told Mr Petulengro that he desired only some peaceful spot where he might hold uninterrupted communion with his own thoughts, and practise, if so inclined, either tinkering or the blacksmith's art, and he had been directed to Mumper's Dingle, which was to become the setting of the most romantic episode in his life.

In the dingle Borrow experienced one of his worst attacks of the "Horrors"—the "Screaming Horrors." He raged like a madman, a prey to some indefinable, intangible fear; clinging to his "little horse as if for safety and protection." {64a} He had not recovered from the prostrating effects of that night of tragedy when he was called upon to fight Anselo Herne, "the Flaming Tinman," who somehow or other seemed to be part of the bargain he had made with Jack Slingsby, and encounter the queen of road-girls, Isopel Berners. The description of the fight has been proclaimed the finest in our language, and by some the finest in the world's literature.

Isopel Berners is one of the great heroines of English Literature. As drawn by Borrow, with her strong arm, lion-like courage and tender tearfulness, she is unique. However true or false the account of her relations with Borrow may be, she is drawn by him as a living woman. He was incapable of conceiving her from his imagination. It may go unquestioned that he actually met an Isopel Berners, {64b} but whether or no his parting from her was as heart-rendingly tragic as he has depicted it, is open to very grave question.

With this queen of the roads he seems to have been less reticent and more himself than with any other of his vagabond acquaintance, not excepting even Mr Petulengro. To the handsome, tall girl with "the flaxen hair, which hung down over her shoulders unconfined," and the "determined but open expression," he showed a more amiable side of his character; yet he seems to have treated her with no little cruelty. He told her about himself, how he "had tamed savage mares, wrestled with Satan, and had dealings with ferocious publishers," bringing tears to her eyes, and when she grew too curious, he administered an antidote in the form of a few Armenian numerals. If his Autobiography is to be credited, Isopel loved him, and he was aware of it; but the knowledge did not hinder him from torturing the poor girl by insisting that she should decline the verb "to love" in Armenian.

Borrow's attitude towards Isopel was curiously complex; he seemed to find pleasure in playing upon her emotions. At times he appeared as deliberately brutal to her, as to the gypsy girl Ursula when he talked with her beneath the hedge. He forced from Isopel a passionate rebuke that he sought only to vex and irritate "a poor ignorant girl . . . who can scarcely read or write." He asked her to marry him, but not until he had convinced her that he was mad. How much she had become part of his life in the dingle he did not seem to realise until after she had left him. Isopel Berners was a woman whose character was almost masculine in its strength; but she was prepared to subdue her spirit to his, wished to do so even. With her strength, however, there was wisdom, and she left Borrow and the dingle, sending him a letter of farewell that was certainly not the composition of "a poor girl" who could "scarcely read or write." The story itself is in all probability true; but the letter rings false. Isopel may have sent Borrow a letter of farewell, but not the one that appears in The Romany Rye.

Among Borrow's papers Dr Knapp discovered a fragment of manuscript in which Mr Petulengro is shown deliberating upon the expediency of emulating King Pharaoh in the number of his wives. Mrs Petulengro desires "a little pleasant company," and urges her husband to take a second spouse. He proceeds:-

"Now I am thinking that this here Bess of yours would be just the kind of person both for my wife and myself. My wife wants something gorgiko, something genteel. Now Bess is of blood gorgious; if you doubt it, look at her face, all full of pawno ratter, white blood, brother; and as for gentility, nobody can make exceptions to Bess's gentility, seeing she was born in the workhouse of Melford the Short."

Mr Petulengro sees in Bess another advantage. If "the Flaming Tinman" {66a} were to descend upon them, as he once did, with the offer to fight the best of them for nothing, and Tawno Chikno were absent, who was to fight him? Mr Petulengro could not do so for less than five pounds; but with Bess as a second wife the problem would be solved. She would fight "the Flaming Tinman."

This proves nothing, one way or the other, and can scarcely be said to "dispel any allusions," as Dr Knapp suggests, or confirm the story of Isopel. Why did Borrow omit it from Lavengro? Not from caprice surely. It has been stated that those who know the gypsies can vouch for the fact that no such suggestion could have been made by a gypsy woman.

It would appear that Isopel Berners existed, but the account of her given by Borrow in Lavengro and The Romany Rye is in all probability coloured, just as her stature was heightened by him. If she were taller than he, she must have appeared a giantess. Borrow was an impressionist, and he has probably succeeded far better in giving a faithful picture of Isopel Berners than if he had been photographically accurate in his measurements.

According to Borrow's own account, he left Willenhall mounted upon a fine horse, purchased with money lent to him by Mr Petulengro, a small valise strapped to the saddle, and "some desire to meet with one of those adventures which upon the roads of England are generally as plentiful as blackberries." From this point, however, The Romany Rye becomes dangerous as autobiography. {66b}

For one thing, it was unlike Borrow to remain in debt, and it is incredible that he should have ridden away upon a horse purchased with another man's money, without any set purpose in his mind. Therefore the story of his employment at the Swan Inn, Stafford, where he found his postilion friend, and the subsequent adventures must be reluctantly sacrificed. They do not ring true, nor do they fit in with the rest of the story. That he experienced such adventures is highly probable; but it is equally probable that he took some liberty with the dates.

Up to the point where he purchases the horse, Borrow's story is convincing; but from there onwards it seems to go to pieces, that is as autobiography. The arrival of Ardry (Arden) at the inn, {67a} PASSING THROUGH STAFFORD ON HIS WAY TO WARWICK to be present at a dog and lion fight that had already taken place (26th July), is in itself enough to shake our confidence in the whole episode of the inn. In The Gypsies of Spain Mr Petulengro is made to say:

"I suppose you have not forgot how, fifteen years ago, when you made horseshoes in the little dingle by the side of the great north road, I lent you fifty cottors [guineas] to purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green Newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred. Well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred instead of the fifty, I could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for I knew you would not be long pazorrhus [indebted] to me." {67b}

It seems more in accordance with Borrow's character to repay the loan within three days than to continue in Mr Petulengro's debt for weeks, at one time making no actual effort to realise upon the horse. The question as to whether Borrow received a hundred and fifty (as he himself states) or two hundred pounds is immaterial. It is quite likely that he sold the horse before he left the dingle, and that the adventures he narrates may be true in all else save the continued possession of his steed, that is, with the exception of the Francis Ardry episode, the encounter with the man in black, and the arrival at Horncastle during the fair. If Borrow left London on 24th May, and he could not have left earlier, as has been shown, he must have visited the Fair (Tamworth) with Mr Petulengro on 26th July, and set out from Willenhall about 2nd August.

It has been pointed out by that distinguished scholar and gentleman- gypsy, Mr John Sampson, {68a} that as the Horse Fair at Horncastle was held 12th-21st August, if Borrow took the horse there it could not have been in the manner described in The Romany Rye, where he is shown as spending some considerable time at the inn, if we may judge by the handsome cheque (10 pounds) offered to him by the landlord as a bonus on account of his services. Then there was the accident and the consequent lying-up at the house of the man who knew Chinese, but could not tell what o'clock it was. To confirm Borrow's itinerary all this must have been crowded into less than three weeks, fully a third of which Borrow spent in recovering from his fall. This would mean that for less than a fortnight's work, the innkeeper offered him ten pounds as a gratuity, in addition to the bargain he had made, which included the horse's keep.

Mr Sampson has supported his itinerary with several very important pieces of evidence. Borrow states in Lavengro that "a young moon gave a feeble light" as he mounted the coach that was to take him to Amesbury. The moon was in its first quarter on 24th May. There actually was a great thunderstorm in the Willenhall district about the time that Borrow describes (18th July). It is Mr Sampson also who has identified the fair to which Borrow went with the gypsies as that held at Tamworth on 26th July.

Whatever else Borrow may have been doing immediately after leaving the dingle, he appears to have been much occupied in speculating as to the future. Was he not "sadly misspending his time?" He was forced to the conclusion that he had done nothing else throughout his life but misspend his time. He was ambitious. He chafed at his narrow life. "Oh! what a vast deal may be done with intellect, courage, riches, accompanied by the desire of doing something great and good!" {69a} he exclaims, and his thoughts turned instinctively to the career of his old school-fellow, Rajah Brooke of Sarawak. {69b} He was now, by his own confession, "a moody man, bearing on my face, as I well knew, the marks of my strivings and my strugglings, of what I had learnt and unlearnt." {69c} He recognised the possibilities that lay in every man, only awaiting the hour when they should be called forth. He believed implicitly in the power of the will. {69d} He possessed ambition and a fine workable theory of how success was to be obtained; but he lacked initiative. He expected fortune to wait for him on the high-road, just as he knew adventures awaited him. He would not go "across the country," to use a phrase of the time common to postilions. He was too independent, perhaps too sensitive of being patronised, to seek employment. That he cared "for nothing in this world but old words and strange stories," was an error into which his friend Mr Petulengro might well fall. The mightiness of the man's pride could be covered only by a cloak of assumed indifference. He must be independent of the world, not only in material things, but in those intangible qualities of the spirit. It was this that lost him Isopel Berners, whose love he awakened by a strong right arm and quenched with an Armenian noun. Again, his independence stood in the way of his happiness. A man is a king, he seemed to think, and the attribute of kings is their splendid isolation, their godlike solitude. If his Ego were lonely and crying out for sympathy, Borrow thought it a moment for solitude, in which to discipline his insurgent spirit. The "Horrors" were the result of this self-repression. When they became unbearable, his spirit broke down, the yearning for sympathy and affection overmastered him, and he stumbled to his little horse in the desolate dingle, and found comfort in the faithful creature's whinny of sympathy and its affectionate licking of his hand. The strong man clung to his dumb brute friend as a protection against the unknown horror—the screaming horror that had gripped him.

One quality Borrow possessed in common with many other men of strange and taciturn personality. He could always make friends when he chose. Ostlers, scholars, farmers, gypsies; it mattered not one jot to him what, or who they were. He could earn their respect and obtain their good-will, if he wished to do so. He demanded of men that they should have done things, or be capable of doing things. They must know everything there was to be known about some one thing; and the ostler, than whom none could groom a horse better, was worthy of being ranked with the best man in the land. He demanded of every man that he should justify his existence, and was logical in his attitude, save in the insignificant particular that he applied the same rule to himself only in theory.

He was shrewd and a good judge of character, provided it were Protestant character, and could hold his own with a Jew or a Gypsy. He was fully justified in his boast of being able to take "precious good care of" himself, and "drive a precious hard bargain"; yet these qualities were not to find a market until he was thirty years of age.

Sometime during the autumn (1825) Borrow returned to Norwich, where he busied himself with literary affairs, among other things writing to the publishers of Faustus about the bill that was shortly to fall due. The fact of the book having been destroyed at both the Norwich libraries, gave him the idea that he might make some profit by selling copies of the suppressed volume. Hence his offer to Simpkin & Marshall to take copies in lieu of money.



CHAPTER V: SEPTEMBER 1825-DECEMBER 1832



From the autumn of 1825 until the winter of 1832, when he obtained an introduction to the British & Foreign Bible Society, only fragmentary details of Borrow's life exist. He decided to keep sacred to himself the "Veiled Period," as it came to be called. In all probability it was a time of great hardship and mortification, and he wished it to be thought that the whole period was devoted to "a grand philological expedition," or expeditions. There is no doubt that some portion of the mysterious epoch was so spent, but not all. Many of the adventures ascribed to characters in Lavengro and The Romany Rye were, most probably, Borrow's own experiences during that period of mystery and misfortune. Time after time he was implored to "lift up a corner of the curtain"; but he remained obdurate, and the seven years are in his life what the New Orleans days were in that of Walt Whitman.

Soon after his return to Norwich, Borrow seems to have turned his attention to the manuscripts in the green box. In the days of happy augury, before he had quarrelled with Sir Richard Phillips, there had appeared in The Monthly Magazine the two following paragraphs:-

"We have heard and seen much of the legends and popular superstitions of the North, but, in truth, all the exhibitions of these subjects which have hitherto appeared in England have been translations from the German. Mr Olaus Borrow, who is familiar with the Northern Languages, proposes, however, to present these curious reliques of romantic antiquity directly from the Danish and Swedish, and two elegant volumes of them now printing will appear in September. They are highly interesting in themselves, but more so as the basis of most of the popular superstitions of England, when they were introduced during the incursions and dominion of the Danes and Norwegians." (1st September 1824.)

"We have to acknowledge the favour of a beautiful collection of Danish songs and ballads, of which a specimen will be seen among the poetical articles of the present month. One, or more, of these very interesting translations will appear in each succeeding number." (1st December 1824.)

It seems to have been Borrow's plan to run his ballads serially through The Monthly Magazine and then to publish them in book-form. His initial contribution to The Monthly Magazine had appeared in October 1823. The first of the articles, entitled "Danish Traditions and Superstitions," appeared August 1824, and continued, with the omission of one or two months, until December 1825, there being in all nine articles; but there was only one instalment of "Danish Songs and Ballads." {73a}

Borrow was determined that these ballads, at least, should be published, and he set to work to prepare them for the press. Allan Cunningham, with whom Borrow was acquainted, contributed, at his request, a metrical dedication. The volume appeared on 10th May, in an edition of five hundred copies at ten shillings and sixpence each. It appears that some two hundred copies were subscribed for, thus ensuring the cost of production. The balance, or a large proportion of it, was consigned to John Taylor, the London publisher, who printed a new title-page and sold them at seven shillings each, probably the trade price for a half-guinea book.

Cunningham wrote to Borrow advising him to send out freely copies for review, and with each a note saying that it was the translator's ultimate intention to publish an English version of the whole Kiaempe Viser with notes; also to "scatter a few judiciously among literary men." It is doubtful if this sage counsel were acted upon; for there is no record of any review or announcement of the work. This in itself was not altogether a misfortune; for Borrow did not prove himself an inspired translator of verse. Apart from the two hundred copies sold to subscribers, the book was still-born.

After the publication of Romantic Ballads, Borrow appears to have returned to London, not to his old lodging at Milman Street, possibly on account of the associations, but to 26 Bryanston Street, Portman Square, from which address he wrote to Benjamin Haydon the following note:- {74a}

DEAR SIR, -

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,

GEORGE BORROW.

In his account of how he first became acquainted with Haydon, Borrow shows himself as anything but desirous of appearing in a picture. When John tells of the artist's wish to include him as one of the characters in a painting upon which he is engaged, Borrow replies: "I have no wish to appear on canvas." It is probable that in some way or other Haydon offended his sitter, who, regretting his acquiescence, antedated the episode and depicted himself as refusing the invitation. Such a liberty with fact and date would be quite in accordance with Borrow's autobiographical methods.

Borrow wrote in Lavengro, "I have been a wanderer the greater part of my life; indeed I remember only two periods, and these by no means lengthy, when I was, strictly speaking, stationary." {75a} One of the "two periods" was obviously the eight years spent at Norwich, 1816-24, the other is probably the years spent at Oulton. Thus the "Veiled Period" may be assumed to have been one of wandering. The seven years are gloomy and mysterious, but not utterly dark. There is a hint here, a suggestion there—a letter or a paragraph, that gives in a vague way some idea of what Borrow was doing, and where. It seems comparatively safe to assume that after the publication of Romantic Ballads he plunged into a life of roving and vagabondage, which, in all probability, was brought to an abrupt termination by either the loss or the exhaustion of his money. Anything beyond this is pure conjecture. {75b}

After he became associated with the British & Foreign Bible Society, his movements are easily accounted for; but all we have to guide us as to what countries he had seen before 1833 is an occasional hint. He casually admits having been in Italy, {75c} at Bayonne, {75d} Paris, {75e} Madrid, {75f} the south of France. {75g} "I have visited most of the principal capitals of the world," he writes in 1843; and again in the same year, "I have heard the ballad of Alonzo Guzman chanted in Danish, by a hind in the wilds of Jutland." {76a} "I have lived in different parts of the world, much amongst the Hebrew race, and I am well acquainted with their words and phraseology," {76b} he writes; and on another occasion: "I have seen gypsies of various lands, Russian, Hungarian, and Turkish; and I have also seen the legitimate children of most countries of the world." {76c} An even more significant admission is that made when Colonel Elers Napier, whom Borrow met in Seville in 1839, enquired where he had obtained his knowledge of Moultanee. "Some years ago, in Moultan," was the reply; then, as if regretting that he had confessed so much, showed by his manner that he intended to divulge nothing more. {76d}

"Once, during my own wanderings in Italy," Borrow writes, "I rested at nightfall by the side of a kiln, the air being piercingly cold; it was about four leagues from Genoa." {76e} Again, "Once in the south of France, when I was weary, hungry, and penniless, I observed one of these last patterans {76f} [a cross marked in the dust], and following the direction pointed out, arrived at the resting-place of 'certain Bohemians,' by whom I was received with kindness and hospitality, on the faith of no other word of recommendation than patteran." {76g} In a letter of introduction to the Rev. E. Whitely, of Oporto, the Rev. Andrew Brandram, of the Bible Society, wrote in 1835: "With Portugal he [Borrow] is already acquainted, and speaks the language." This statement is significant, for only during the "Veiled Period" could Borrow have visited Portugal.

It may be argued that Borrow was merely posing as a great traveller, but the foregoing remarks are too casual, too much in the nature of asides, to be the utterances of a poseur. A man seeking to impress himself upon the world as a great traveller would probably have been a little more definite.

The only really reliable information as to Borrow's movements after his arrival in London is contained in the note to Haydon. In all probability he went to Paris, where possibly he met Vidocq, the master-rogue turned detective. {77a} It has been suggested by Dr Knapp that he went to Paris, and thence on foot to Bayonne and Madrid, after which he tramped to Pamplona, where he gets into trouble, is imprisoned, and is released on condition that he leave the country; he proceeds towards Marseilles and Genoa, where he takes ship and is landed safely in London. The data, however, upon which this itinerary is constructed are too frail to be convincing. There is every probability that he roamed about the Continent and met with adventures—he was a man to whom adventures gravitated quite naturally—but the fact of his saying that he had been imprisoned on three occasions, and there being only two instances on record at the time, cannot in itself be considered as conclusive evidence of his having been arrested at Pamplona. {77b}

In the spring of 1827 Borrow was unquestionably at Norwich, for he saw the famous trotting stallion Marshland Shales on the Castle Hill (12th April), and did for that grand horse "what I would neither do for earl or baron, doffed my hat." {78a} Borrow apparently remained with his mother for some months, to judge from certain entries (29th September to 19th November) in his hand that appear in her account books.

In December 1829 he was back again in London at 77 Great Russell Street, W.C. He was as usual eager to obtain some sort of work. He wrote to "the Committee of the Honourable and Praiseworthy Association, known by the name of the Highland Society . . . a body animate with patriotism, which, guided by philosophy, produces the noblest results, and many of whose members stand amongst the very eminent in the various departments of knowledge."

The project itself was that of translating into English "the best and most approved poetry of the Ancient and Modern Scoto-Gaelic Bards, with such notes on the usages and superstitions therein alluded to, as will enable the English reader to form a clear and correct idea of the originals." In the course of a rather ornate letter, Borrow offers himself as the translator and compiler of such a work as he suggests, avowing his willingness to accept whatsoever remuneration might be thought adequate compensation for his expenditure of time. Furthermore, he undertakes to complete the work within a period of two years.

On 7th December he wrote to Dr Bowring, recently returned from Denmark:-

"Lest I should intrude upon you when you are busy, I write to enquire when you will be unoccupied. I wish to show you my translation of The Death of Balder, 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." {79a}

On 29th December he wrote again:-

"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. Suppose we bring forward at once the first volume of the Danish Anthology, which should contain the heroic supernatural songs of the K[iaempe] V[iser]."

It was suggested that there should be four volumes in all, and the first, with an introduction that Borrow expressed himself as not ashamed of, was ready and "might appear instanter, with no further trouble to yourself than writing, if you should think fit, a page or two of introductory matter." Dr Bowring replied by return of post that he thought that no more than two volumes could be ventured on, and Borrow acquiesced, writing: "The sooner the work is advertised the better, FOR I AM TERRIBLY AFRAID OF BEING FORESTALLED IN THE KIAEMPE VISER BY SOME OF THOSE SCOTCH BLACKGUARDS, who affect to translate from all languages, of which they are fully as ignorant as Lockhart is of Spanish."

Borrow was full of enthusiasm for the project, and repeated that the first volume was ready, adding: "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." A later letter, which was written from 7 Museum Street (8th January), told how he had "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."

He drew up a prospectus, endeavouring "to assume a Danish style," which he submitted to his collaborator, begging him to "alter . . . whatever false logic has crept into it, find a remedy for its incoherencies, and render it fit for its intended purpose. I have had for the two last days a rising headache which has almost prevented me doing anything."

It would appear that Dr Bowring did not altogether approve of the "Danish style," for on 14th January Borrow wrote, "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 . . . When you see the foreign Editor," he continues, "I should feel much obliged if you would speak to him about my reviewing Tegner, and enquire whether a GOOD article on Welsh poetry would be received. I have the advantage of not being a Welshman. 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."

The prospectus, which appeared in several publications ran as follows:-

"Dr Bowring and Mr George Borrow are about to publish, dedicated to the King of Denmark, by His Majesy's permission, THE SONGS OF SCANDINAVIA, in 2 vols. 8vo, containing a Selection of the most interesting of the Historical and Romantic Ballads of North-Western Europe, with Specimens of the Danish and Norwegian Poets down to the present day.

Price to Subscribers, 1 pound, 1s.—to Non-Subscribers 1 pound, 5s. The First Volume will be devoted to Ancient Popular Poetry; the Second will give the choicest productions of the Modern School, beginning with Tullin." {81a}

The Songs of Scandinavia now became to Borrow what the Celebrated Trials had been four years previously, a source of constant toil. On one occasion he writes to Dr Bowring telling him that he has just translated an ode "as I breakfasted." What Borrow lived on at this period it is impossible to say. It may be assumed that Mrs Borrow did not keep him, for, apart from the slender proportions of the income of the mother, the unconquerable independence of the son must be considered; and Borrow loved his mother too tenderly to allow her to deprive herself of luxuries even to keep him. He borrowed money from her at various times; but he subsequently faithfully repaid her. Even John was puzzled. "You never tell me what you are doing," he writes to his brother at the end of 1832; "you can't be living on nothing."

Borrow appears to have kept Dr Bowring well occupied with suggestions as to how that good-natured man might assist him. Although he is to see him on the morrow, he writes on the evening of 21st May regarding another idea that has just struck him:

"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-Chiefs 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 accessible 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 the Songs of Scandinavia, all the ballads would be ready before departure, and as I should have 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 FLIGHTINESS, 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."

On 22nd May Dr Bowring introduced Borrow to Dr Grundtvig, the Danish poet, who required some transcriptions done. On 7th June, Borrow wrote to Dr Bowring:

"I have looked over Mr Gruntvig's (sic) manuscript. It is a very long affair, and the language is Norman Saxon. 40 pounds would not be an extravagant price for a transcript, and so 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 pounds. 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."

At this time there were a hundred schemes seething through Borrow's eager brain. Hearing that "an order has been issued for the making a transcript of the celebrated Anglo-Saxon Codex of Exeter, for the use of the British Museum," he applied to some unknown correspondent for his interest and help to obtain the appointment as transcriber. The work, however, was carried out by a Museum official.

Another project appears to have been to obtain a post at the British Museum. On 9th March 1830 he had written to Dr Bowring:

"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."

In reply Dr Bowring commended the scheme, and promised to assist "by every sort of counsel and exertion. But it would injure you," he proceeds, "if I were to take the initiative. [The Gibraltar house of Bowring & Murdock had recently failed.] Quietly make yourself master of that department of the Museum. We must then think of how best to get at the Council. If by any management they can be induced to ask my opinion, I will give you a character which shall take you to the top of Hecla itself. You have claims, strong ones, and I should rejoice to see you NICHED in the British Museum."

Again failure! Disappointment seemed to be dogging Borrow's footsteps at this period. For years past he had been seeking some sort of occupation, into which he could throw all that energy and determination of character that he possessed. He was earnest and able, and he knew that he only required an opportunity of showing to the world what manner of man he was. He seemed doomed to meet everywhere with discouragement; for no one wanted him, just as no one wanted his translations of the glorious Ab Gwilym. He appeared before the world as a failure, which probably troubled him very little; but there was another aspect of the case that was in his eyes, "the most heartbreaking of everything, the strange, the disadvantageous light in which I am aware that I must frequently have appeared to those whom I most love and honour." {83a}

On 14th September he wrote to Dr Bowring:

"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."

A year later he writes again to Dr Bowring, who once more has been exerting himself on his friend's behalf:

"WILLOW LANE, NORWICH, 11th September 1831.

MY DEAR SIR, -

I return you my most sincere thanks for your kind letter of the 2nd inst., and though you have not been successful in your application to the Belgian authorities in my behalf, I know full well that you did your utmost, and am only sorry that at my instigation you attempted an impossibility.

The Belgians seem either not to know or not to care for the opinion of the great Cyrus who gives this advice to his captains. 'Take no heed from what countries ye fill up your ranks, but seek recruits as ye do horses, not those particularly who are of your own country, but those of merit.' The Belgians will only have such recruits as are born in Belgium, and when we consider the heroic manner in which the native Belgian army defended the person of their new sovereign in the last conflict with the Dutch, can we blame them for their determination? It is rather singular, however, that resolved as they are to be served only by themselves they should have sent for 5000 Frenchmen to clear their country of a handful of Hollanders, who have generally been considered the most unwarlike people in Europe, but who, if they had fair play given them, would long ere this time have replanted the Orange flag on the towers of Brussels, and made the Belgians what they deserve to be, hewers of wood and drawers of water.

And now, my dear Sir, allow me to reply to a very important part of your letter; you ask me whether I wish to purchase a commission in the British service, because in that case you would speak to the Secretary at War about me. I must inform you therefore that my name has been for several years upon the list for the purchase of a commission, and I have never yet had sufficient interest to procure an appointment. If I can do nothing better I shall be very glad to purchase; but I will pause two or three months before I call upon you to fulfil your kind promise. It is believed that the Militia will be embodied in order to be sent to that unhappy country Ireland, and provided I can obtain a commission in one of them, and they are kept in service, it would be better than spending 500 pounds about one in the line. I am acquainted with the Colonels of the two Norfolk regiments, and I daresay that neither of them would have any objection to receive me. If they are not embodied I will most certainly apply to you, and you may say when you recommend me that being well grounded in Arabic, and having some talent for languages, I might be an acquisition to a corps in one of our Eastern Colonies. I flatter myself that I could do a great deal in the East provided I could once get there, either in a civil or military capacity; there is much talk at present about translating European books into the two great languages, the Arabic and Persian; now I believe that with my enthusiasm for these tongues I could, if resident in the East, become in a year or two better acquainted with them than any European has been yet, and more capable of executing such a task. Bear this in mind, and if before you hear from me again you should have any opportunity to recommend me as a proper person to fill any civil situation in those countries or to attend any expedition thither, I pray you to lay hold of it, and no conduct of mine shall ever give you reason to repent it.

I remain, My Dear Sir, Your most obliged and obedient Servant, GEORGE BORROW.

P.S.—Present my best remembrances to Mrs B. and to Edgar, and tell them that they will both be starved. There is now a report in the street that twelve corn-stacks are blazing within twenty miles of this place. I have lately been wandering about Norfolk, and I am sorry to say that the minds of the peasantry are in a horrible state of excitement; I have repeatedly heard men and women in the harvest- field swear that not a grain of the corn they were cutting should be eaten, and that they would as lieve be hanged as live. I am afraid all this will end in a famine and a rustic war.

It was pride that prompted Borrow to ask Dr Bowring to stay his hand for the moment about a commission. There was no reasonable possibility of his being able to raise 500 pounds. Even if his mother had possessed it, which she did not, he would not have drained her resources of so large an amount. His subsequent attitude towards the Belgians was characteristic of him. To his acutely sensitive perceptions, failure to obtain an appointment he sought was a rebuff, and his whole nature rose up against what, at the moment, appeared to be an intolerable slight.

Nothing came of the project of collaboration between Bowring and Borrow beyond an article on Danish and Norwegian literature that appeared in The Foreign Quarterly Review (June 1830), in which Borrow supplied translations of the sixteen poems illustrating Bowring's text. In all probability the response to the prospectus was deemed inadequate, and Bowring did not wish to face a certain financial loss.

From Borrow's own letters there is no question that Dr Bowring was acting towards him in a most friendly manner, and really endeavouring to assist him to obtain some sort of employment. It may be, as has been said, and as seems extremely probable, that Bowring used his "facility in acquiring and translating tongues deliberately as a ladder to an administrative post abroad," {86a} but if Borrow "put a wrong construction upon his sympathy" and was led into "a veritable cul-de-sac of literature," {86b} it was no fault of Bowring's.

Borrow's relations with Dr Bowring continued to be most cordial for many years, as his letters show. "Pray excuse me for troubling you with these lines," he writes years later; "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." This is very significant as indicating the nature of the relations between the two men.

Borrow was to experience yet another disappointment. A Welsh bookseller, living in the neighbourhood of Smithfield, commissioned him to translate into English Elis Wyn's The Sleeping Bard, a book printed originally in 1703. The bookseller foresaw for the volume a large sale, not only in England but in Wales; but "on the eve of committing it to the press, however, the Cambrian-Briton felt his small heart give way within him. 'Were I to print it,' said he, 'I should be ruined; the terrible descriptions of vice and torment would frighten the genteel part of the English public out of its wits, and I should to a certainty be prosecuted by Sir James Scarlett . . . Myn Diawl! I had no idea, till I had read him in English, that Elis Wyn had been such a terrible fellow.'" {87a}

With this Borrow had to be content and retire from the presence of the little bookseller, who told him he was "much obliged . . . for the trouble you have given yourself on my account," {87b} and his bundle of manuscript, containing nearly three thousand lines, the work probably of some months, was to be put aside for thirty years before eventually appearing in a limited edition.

It cannot be determined with exactness when Borrow relinquished the unequal struggle against adverse circumstances in London. He had met with sufficient discouragement to dishearten him from further effort. Perhaps his greatest misfortune was his disinclination to make friends with anybody save vagabonds. He could attract and earn the friendship of an apple-woman, thimble-riggers, tramps, thieves, gypsies, in short with any vagrant he chose to speak to; but his hatred of gentility was a great and grave obstacle in the way of his material advancement. His brother John seemed to recognise this; for in 1831 he wrote, "I am convinced that YOUR WANT OF SUCCESS IN LIFE is more owing to your being unlike other people than to any other cause."

It would appear that, finding nothing to do in London, Borrow once more became a wanderer. He was in London in March; but on 27th, 28th, and 29th July 1830 he was unquestionably in Paris. Writing about the Revolution of La Granja (August 1836) and of the energy, courage and activity of the war correspondents, he says:

"I saw them [the war correspondents] during the three days at Paris, mingled with canaille and gamins behind the barriers, whilst the mitraille was flying in all directions, and the desperate cuirassiers were dashing their fierce horses against these seemingly feeble bulwarks. There stood they, dotting down their observations in their pocket-books as unconcernedly as if reporting the proceedings of a reform meeting in Covent Garden or Finsbury Square." {88a}

This can have reference only to the "Three Glorious Days" of Revolution, 27th to 29th July 1830, during which Charles X. lost, and Louis-Philippe gained, a throne. He returned to Norwich sometime during the autumn of 1830. {88b} In November he was entering upon his epistolary duel with the Army Pay Office in connection with John's half-pay as a lieutenant in the West Norfolk Militia.

In 1826 John had gone to Mexico, then looked upon as a land of promise for young Englishmen, who might expect to find fortunes in its silver mines. Allday, brother of Roger Kerrison, was there, and John Borrow determined to join him. Obtaining a year's leave of absence from his colonel, together with permission to apply for an extension, he entered the service of the Real del Monte Company, receiving a salary of three hundred pounds a year. He arranged that his mother should have his half-pay, and it was in connection with this that George entered upon a correspondence with the Army Pay Office that was to extend over a period of fifteen months.

Originally John had arranged for the amounts to be remitted to Mexico, and he sent them back again to his mother. This involved heavy losses in connection with the bills of exchange, and wishing to avoid this tax, John sent to his brother an official copy of a Mexican Power of Attorney, which George strove to persuade the Army Pay Office was the original.

Tact was unfortunately not one of George Borrow's acquirements at this period, and in this correspondence he adopted an attitude that must have seriously prejudiced his case. "I am a solicitor myself, Sir," he states, and proceeds to threaten to bring the matter before Parliament. He writes to the Solicitor of the Treasury "as a member of the same honourable profession to which I was myself bred up," and demands whether he has not law, etc., on his side. The outcome of the correspondence was that the disembodied allowance was refused on the plea "that Lieutenant Borrow having been absent without Leave from the Training of the West Norfolk Militia has, under the provisions of the 12th Section of the Militia Pay and Clothing Act, forfeited his Allowance." In consequence, payment was made only for the amount due from 25th June 1829 to 24th December 1830. The whole tone of Borrow's letters was unfortunate for the cause he pleaded. He wrote to the Secretary of State for War as he might have written to the little Welsh bookseller with "the small heart." He was indignant at what he conceived to be an injustice, and was unable to dissemble his anger.

George had thought of joining his brother, but had not received any very marked encouragement to do so. John despised Mexican methods. On one occasion he writes apropos of George's suggestion of the army, "If you can raise the pewter, come out here rather than that, and ROB." One sage thing at least John is to be credited with, when he wrote to his brother, "Do not enter the army; it is a bad spec." It would have been for George Borrow.

Among the papers left at Borrow's death was a fragment of a political article in dispraise of the Radicals. The editorial "We" suggests that Borrow might possibly have been engaged in political journalism. The statement made by him that he "frequently spoke up for Wellington" {90a} may or may not have had reference to contributions to the press. The fragment itself proves nothing. Many would-be journalists write "leaders" that never see the case-room.

It is useless to speculate further regarding the period that Borrow himself elected to veil from the eyes, not only of his contemporaries, but those of another generation. Men who have overcome adverse conditions and achieved fame are not as a rule averse from publishing, or at least allowing to be known, the difficulties that they had to contend with. Borrow was in no sense of the word an ordinary man. He unquestionably suffered acutely during the years of failure, when it seemed likely that his life was to be wasted, barren of anything else save the acquirement of a score or more languages; keys that could open literary storehouses that nobody wanted to explore, to the very existence of which, in fact, the public was frigidly indifferent.

"Poor George . . . I wish he was making money . . . He works hard and remains poor," is the comment of his brother John, written in the autumn of 1830. To no small degree Borrow was responsible for his own failure, or perhaps it would be more just to say that he had been denied many of the attributes that make for success. His independence was aggressive, and it offended people. Even with the Welsh Preacher and his wife he refused to unbend.

"'What a disposition!'" Winifred had exclaimed, holding up her hands; "'and this is pride, genuine pride—that feeling which the world agrees to call so noble. Oh, how mean a thing is pride! never before did I see all the meanness of what is called pride!'" {91a}

This pride, magnificent as the loneliness of kings, and about as unproductive of a sympathetic view of life, always constituted a barrier in the way of Borrow's success. There were innumerable other obstacles: his choice of friends, his fierce denunciatory hatred of gentility, together with humbug, which he always seemed to confuse with it, the attacks of the "Horrors," his grave bearing, which no laugh ever disturbed, and, above all, his uncompromising hostility to the things that the world chose to consider excellent. The world in return could make nothing of a man who was a mass of moods and sensibilities, strange tastes and pursuits. It is not remarkable that he should fail to make the stir that he had hoped to make.

With the unerring instinct of a hypersensitive nature, he knew his merit, his honesty, his capacity—knew that he possessed one thing that eventually commands success, which "through life has ever been of incalculable utility to me, and has not unfrequently supplied the place of friends, money, and many other things of almost equal importance—iron perseverance, without which all the advantages of time and circumstance are of very little avail in any undertaking." {91b} It was this dogged determination that was to carry him through the most critical period of his life, enable him to earn the approval of those in whose interests he worked, and eventually achieve fame and an unassailable place in English literature.



CHAPTER VI: JANUARY-JULY 1833



It is not a little curious that no one should have thought of putting Borrow's undoubted gifts as a linguist to some practical use. He himself had frequently cast his eyes in the direction of a political appointment abroad. It remained, however, for the Rev. Francis Cunningham, {92a} vicar of Lowestoft, in Suffolk, to see in this young man against whom the curse of Babel was inoperative, a sword that, in the hands of the British and Foreign Bible Society, might be wielded with considerable effect against the heathen.

Borrow appears to have become acquainted with the Rev. Francis Cunningham through the Skeppers of Oulton Hall, near Lowestoft, of whom it is necessary to give some account. Edmund Skepper had married Anne Breame of Beetley, who, on the death of her father, came into 9000 pounds. She and her husband purchased the Oulton Hall estate, upon which Anne Skepper seems to have been given a five per cent. mortgage. There were two children of the marriage, Breame (born 1794) and Mary (born 1796). The boy inherited the estate, and the girl the mortgage, worth about 450 pounds per annum. Mary married Henry Clarke, a lieutenant in the Navy (26th July 1817), who within eight months died of consumption. Two months later Mrs Clarke gave birth to a daughter, who was christened Henrietta Mary. Mrs Clarke became acquainted with the Cunninghams while they were at Pakefield, and there is every reason to believe that she was instrumental in introducing Borrow to Cunningham. It is most probable that they met during Borrow's visit at Oulton Hall in November 1832.

The Rev. Francis Cunningham appears to have been impressed by Borrow's talent for languages, and fully alive to his value to an institution such as the Bible Society, of which he, Cunningham, was an active member. He accordingly addressed {93a} to the secretary, the Rev. Andrew Brandram, the following letter:

LOWESTOFT VICARAGE, 27th Dec. 1832.

MY DEAR FRIEND, -

A young farmer in this neighbourhood has introduced me to-day to a person of whom I have long heard, who appears to me to promise so much that I am induced to offer him to you as a successor of Platt and Greenfield. {93b} He is a person without University education, but who has read the Bible in thirteen languages. He is independent in circumstances, of no very defined denomination of Christians, but I think of certain Christian principle. I shall make more enquiry about him and see him again. Next week I propose to meet him in London, and I could wish that you should see him, and, if you please, take him under your charge for a few days. He is of the middle order in Society, and a very produceable person.

I intend to be in town on Tuesday morning to go to the Socy. P. C. K. On Wednesday is Dr Wilson's meeting at Islington. He may be in town on Monday evening, and will attend to any appointment.

Will you write me word by return of post, and believe me ever

Most truly and affectionately yours,

F. CUNNINGHAM.

The recommendation was well-timed, for the Bible Society at that particular moment required such a man as Borrow for a Manchu-Tartar project it had in view. In 1821 the Bible Society had commissioned Stepan Vasilievitch Lipovzoff, {94a} of St Petersburg, to translate the New Testament into Manchu, the court and diplomatic language of China. A year later, an edition of 550 copies of the First Gospel was printed from type specially cast for the undertaking. A hundred copies were despatched to headquarters in London, and the remainder, together with the type, placed with the Society's bankers at St Petersburg, {94b} until the time should arrive for the distribution of the books.

Three years after (1824), the overflowing Neva flooded the cellars in which the books were stored, causing their irretrievable ruin, and doing serious damage to the type. This misfortune appeared temporarily to discourage the authorities at home, although Mr Lipovzoff was permitted to proceed with the work of translation, which he completed in two years from the date of the inundation.

In 1832 the Rev. Wm. Swann, of the London Missionary Society, discovered in the famous library of Baron Schilling de Canstadt at St Petersburg the manuscript of a Manchu translation of "the principal part of the Old Testament," and two books of the New. The discovery was considered to be so important that Mr Swann decided to delay his departure for his post in Siberia and make a transcription, which he did. The Manchu translation was the work of Father Puerot, "originally a Jesuit emissary at Pekin [who] passed the latter years of his life in the service of the Russian Mission in the capacity of physician." {95a}

The immediate outcome of Mr Cunningham's letter was an interview between Borrow and the Bible Society's officials. With characteristic energy and determination, Borrow trudged up to London, covering the 112 miles on foot in 27.5 hours. His expenses by the way amounted to fivepence-halfpenny for the purchase of a roll, two apples, a pint of ale and a glass of milk. On reaching London he proceeded direct to the Bible Society's offices in Earl Street, in spite of the early hour, and there awaited the arrival of the Rev. Andrew Brandram (Secretary), and the Rev. Joseph Jowett (Literary Superintendent).

The story of Borrow's arrival at Earl Street was subsequently told, by one of the secretaries at a provincial meeting in connection with the Bible Society. The Rev. Wentworth Webster writes:

"I was little more than a boy when I first heard George Borrow spoken of at the annual dinner given by a connection of my family to the deputation of the British and Foreign Bible Society in a country town near London . . . I can distinctly recall one of the secretaries telling of his first meeting with Borrow, whom he found waiting at the offices of the Society one morning;—how puzzled he was by his appearance; how, after he had read his letter of introduction, he wished to while away the time until a brother secretary should arrive, and did not want to say anything to commit himself to such a strange applicant; so he began by politely hoping that Borrow had slept well. 'I am not aware that I fell asleep on the road,' was the reply; I have walked from Norwich to London.'" {96a}

It would appear that this conference took place on Friday, 4th January; for on that day there is an entry in the records of the Society of the loan to George Borrow of several books from the Society's library. On this and subsequent occasions, Borrow was examined as to his capabilities, the result appearing to be quite satisfactory. To judge from the books lent to Borrow, one of the subjects would seem to have been Arabic.

Borrow appeared before the Committee on 14th January, with the result that they seemed to be "quite satisfied with me and my philological capabilities," which they judged of from the report given by the Secretary and his colleague. A more material sign of approval was found in the undertaking to defray "the expenses of my journey to and from London, and also of my residence in that city, in the most handsome manner." {96b} That is to say, the Committee voted him the sum of ten pounds.

Borrow had been formally asked if he were prepared to learn Manchu sufficiently well to edit, or translate, into that language such portions of the Scriptures as the Society might decide to issue, provided means of acquiring the language were put within his reach, and employment should follow as soon as he showed himself proficient. To this Borrow had willingly agreed. At this period, the idea appears to have been to execute the work in London.

Shortly after appearing before the Committee Borrow returned to Norwich, this time by coach, with several books in the Manchu-Tartar dialect, including the Gospel of St Matthew and Amyot's Manchu-French Dictionary. His instructions were to learn the language and come up for examination in six months' time. Possibly the time limit was suggested by Borrow himself, for he had said that he believed he could master any tongue in a few months.

After two or three weeks of incessant study of a language that Amyot says "one may acquire in five or six years," Borrow, who, it should be remembered, possessed no grammar of the tongue, wrote to Mr Jowett:

"It is, then, your opinion that, from the lack of anything in the form of Grammar, I have scarcely made any progress towards the attainment of Manchu: {97a} perhaps you will not be perfectly miserable at being informed that you were never more mistaken in your life. I can already, with the assistance of Amyot, translate Manchu with no great difficulty, and am perfectly qualified to write a critique on the version of St Matthew's Gospel, which I brought with me into the country . . . I will now conclude by beseeching you to send me, as soon as possible, WHATEVER CAN SERVE TO ENLIGHTEN ME IN RESPECT TO MANCHU GRAMMAR, for, had I a Grammar, I should in a month's time be able to send a Manchu translation of Jonah."

The racy style of Borrow's letters must have been something of a revelation to the Bible Society's officers, who seem to have shown great tact and consideration in dealing with their self-confident correspondent There is something magnificent in the letters that Borrow wrote about this period; their directness and virility, their courage and determination suggest, not a man who up to the thirtieth year of his age has been a conspicuous failure, as the world gauges failure; but one who had grown confident through many victories and is merely proceeding from one success to another.

Whilst in London, Borrow had discussed with Mr Brandram "the Gypsies and the profound darkness as to religion and morality that envolved them." {98a} The Secretary told him of the Southampton Committee for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Gypsies that had recently been formed by the Rev. James Crabbe for the express purpose of enlightening and spreading the Gospel among the Romanys. Furthermore, Mr Brandram, on hearing of Borrow's interest in, and knowledge of, the gypsies, had requested him immediately on his return to Norwich to draw up a vocabulary of Mr Petulengro's language, during such time as he might have free from his other studies. Borrow showed himself, as usual, prolific of suggestions, all of which involved him in additional labour. He enquired through Mr Jowett if Mr Brandram would write about him to the Southampton Committee. He wished to translate into the gypsy tongue the Gospel of St John, "which I could easily do," he tells Mr Jowett, "with the assistance of one or two of the old people, but then they must be paid, for the gypsies are more mercenary than the Jews."