The Life of George Borrow Part 22

A week later, there arrived from Lopez at Villa Seca his "largest and most useful horse," the famous Sidi Habismilk (My Lord the Sustainer of the Kingdom), "an Arabian of high caste . . . the best, I believe, that ever issued from the desert," {285a} Lopez wrote, regretting that he was unable to accompany "The Sustainer of the Kingdom" in person, being occupied with agricultural pursuits, but he sent a relative named Victoriano to a.s.sist in the work of distributing the Gospel.

Borrow's plan was to make Madrid his headquarters, with Antonio in charge of the supplies, and visit all the villages and hamlets in the vicinity that had not yet been supplied with Testaments. He then proposed to turn eastward to a distance of about thirty leagues.

"I have been very pa.s.sionate in prayer," he writes, {285b} "during the last two or three days; and I entertain some hope that the Lord has condescended to answer me, as I appear to see my way with considerable clearness. It may, of course, prove a delusion, and the prospects which seem to present themselves may be mere palaces of clouds, which a breath of wind is sufficient to tumble into ruin; therefore bearing this possibility in mind it behoves me to beg that I may be always enabled to bow meekly to the dispensations of the Almighty, whether they be of favour or severity."

Mr Brandram's comment on this portion of Borrow's letter is rather suggestive of deliberate fault-finding.

"May your 'pa.s.sionate' prayers be answered," he writes. {286a} "You see I remark your unusual word--very significant it is, but one rather fitted for the select circle where 'pa.s.sion' is understood in its own full sense--and not in the restricted meaning attached to it ordinarily. Perhaps you will not often meet with a better set of men than those who a.s.sembled in Earl Street, but they may not always be open to the force of language, and so unwonted a phrase may raise odd feelings in their minds. Do not be in a pa.s.sion, will you, for the freedom of my remarks. You will perhaps suppose remarks were made in Committee. This does not happen to be the case, though I fully antic.i.p.ated it. Mr Browne, Mr Jowett and myself had first privately devoured your letter, and we made our remarks. We could relish such a phrase."

Sometimes there was a suggestion of spite in Mr Brandram's letters.

He was obviously unfriendly towards Borrow during the latter portion of his agency. It was clear that the period of Borrow's further a.s.sociation with the Bible Society was to be limited. If he replied at all to this rather unfair criticism, he must have done so privately to Mr Brandram, as there is no record of his having referred to it in any subsequent letters among the Society's archives.

All unconscious that he had so early offended, Borrow set out upon his first journey to distribute Testaments among the villages around Madrid. Dressed in the manner of the peasants, on his head a montera, a species of leathern helmet, with jacket and trousers of the same material, and mounted on Sidi Habismilk, he looked so unlike the conventional missionary that the housewife may be excused who mistook him for a pedlar selling soap.

In some villages where the people were without money, they received Testaments in return for refreshing the missionaries. "Is this right?" Borrow enquires of Mr Brandram. The village priests frequently proved of considerable a.s.sistance; for when they p.r.o.nounced the books good, as they sometimes did, the sale became extremely brisk. After an absence of eight days, Borrow returned to Madrid. Shortly afterwards, when on the eve of starting out upon another expedition to Guadalajara and the villages of Alcarria, he received a letter from Victoriano saying that he was in prison at Fuente la Higuera, a village about eight leagues distant. Acting with his customary energy and decision, Borrow obtained from an influential friend letters to the Civil Governor and princ.i.p.al authorities of Guadalajara. He then despatched Antonio to the rescue, with the result that Victoriano was released, with the a.s.surance that those responsible for his detention should be severely punished.

Whilst Victoriano was in prison, Borrow and Antonio had been very successful in selling Testaments and Bibles in Madrid, disposing of upwards of a hundred copies, but entirely to the poor, who "receive the Scriptures with gladness," although the hearts of the rich were hard. The work in and about Madrid continued until the middle of March, when Borrow decided to make an excursion as far as Talavera.

The first halt was made at the village of Naval Carnero. Soon after his arrival orders came from Madrid warning the alcaldes of every village in New Castile to be on the look out for the tall, white- haired heretic, of whom an exact description was given, who to-day was in one place and to-morrow twenty leagues distant. No violence was to be offered either to him or to his a.s.sistants; but he and they were to be baulked in their purpose by every legitimate means.

Foiled in the rural districts, Borrow instantly determined to change his plan of campaign. He saw that he was less likely to attract notice in the densely-populated capital than in the provinces. He therefore galloped back to Madrid, leaving Victoriano to follow more leisurely. He rejoiced at the alarm of the clergy. "Glory to G.o.d!"

he exclaims, "they are becoming thoroughly alarmed, and with much reason." {288a} The "reason" lay in the great demand for Testaments and Bibles. A new binding-order had to be given for the balance of the 500 Bibles that had arrived in sheets, or such as had been left of them by the rats, who had done considerable damage in the Madrid storehouse.

It was at this juncture that Borrow's extensive acquaintance with the lower orders proved useful. Selecting eight of the most intelligent from among them, including five women, he supplied them with Testaments and instructions to vend the books in all the parishes of Madrid, with the result that in the course of about a fortnight 600 copies were disposed of in the streets and alleys. A house to house canva.s.s was inst.i.tuted with remarkable results, for manservant and maidservant bought eagerly of the books. Antonio excelled himself and made some amends for his flight from Labajos, when, like a torrent, the Carlist cavalry descended upon it. Dark Madrid was becoming illuminated with a flood of Scriptural light. In two of its churches the New Testament was expounded every Sunday evening.

Bibles were particularly in demand, a hundred being sold in about three weeks. The demand exceeded the supply. "The Marques de Santa Coloma," Borrow wrote, "has a large family, but every individual of it, old or young, is now in possession of a Bible and likewise of a Testament." {288b}

Borrow appears to have enlisted the aid of other distributors than the eight colporteurs. One of his most zealous agents was an ecclesiastic, who always carried with him beneath his gown a copy of the Bible, which he offered to the first person he encountered whom he thought likely to become a purchaser. Yet another a.s.sistant was found in a rich old gentleman of Navarre, who sent copies to his own province.

One night after having retired to bed, Borrow received a visit from a curious, hobgoblin-like person, who gave him grave, official warning that unless he present himself before the corregidor on the morrow at eleven A.M., he must be prepared to take the consequences. The hour chosen for this intimation was midnight. On the next day at the appointed time Borrow presented himself before the corregidor, who announced that he wished to ask a question. The question related to a box of Testaments that Borrow had sent to Naval Carnero, which had been seized and subsequently claimed on Borrow's behalf by Antonio.

In Spain they have the dramatic instinct. If it strike the majestic mind of a corregidor at midnight that he would like to see a citizen or a stranger on the morrow about some trifling affair, time or place are not permitted to interfere with the conveyance of the intimation to the citizen or stranger to present himself before the gravely austere official, who will carry out the interrogation with a solemnity becoming a capital charge.

By the middle of April barely a thousand Testaments remained; these Borrow determined to distribute in Seville. Sending Antonio, the Testaments and two horses with the convoy, Borrow decided to risk travelling with the Mail Courier. For one thing, he disliked the slowness of a convoy, and for another the insults and irritations that travellers had to put up with from the escort, both officers and men. His original plan had been to proceed by Estremadura; but a band of Carlist robbers had recently made its appearance, murdering or holding at ransom every person who fell into its clutches. Borrow wrote:-

"I therefore deem it wise to avoid, if possible, the alternative of being shot or having to pay one thousand pounds for being set at liberty . . . It is moreover wicked to tempt Providence systematically. I have already thrust myself into more danger than was, perhaps, strictly necessary, and as I have been permitted hitherto to escape, it is better to be content with what it has pleased the Lord to do for me up to the present moment, than to run the risk of offending Him by a blind confidence in His forbearance, which may be over-taxed. As it is, however, at all times best to be frank, I am willing to confess that I am what the world calls exceedingly superst.i.tious; perhaps the real cause of my change of resolution was a dream, in which I imagined myself on a desolate road in the hands of several robbers, who were hacking me with their long, ugly knives." {290a}

In the same letter, which was so to incur Mr Brandram's disapproval, Borrow tells of the excellent results of his latest plan for disposing of Bibles and Testaments, three hundred and fifty of the former having been sold since he reached Spain. He goes on to explain and expound the difficulties that have been met and overcome, and hopes that his friends at Earl Street will be patient, as it may not be in his power to send "for a long time any flattering accounts of operations commenced there." In conclusion, he a.s.sures Mr Brandram that from the Church of Rome he has learned one thing, "EVER TO EXPECT EVIL, AND EVER TO HOPE FOR GOOD."

Nothing could have been more unfortunate than the effect produced upon Mr Brandram's mind by this letter.

"I scarcely know what to say," he writes. "You are in a very peculiar country; you are doubtless a man of very peculiar temperament, and we must not apply common rules in judging either of yourself or your affairs. What, e.g., shall we say to your confession of a certain superst.i.tiousness? It is very frank of you to tell us what you need not have told; but it sounded very odd when read aloud in a large Committee. Strangers that know you not would carry away strange ideas . . . In bespeaking our patience, there is an implied contrast between your own mode of proceeding and that adopted by others--a contrast this a little to the disadvantage of others, and savouring a little of the praise of a personage called number one . . . Perhaps my vanity is offended, and I feel as if I were not esteemed a person of sufficient discernment to know enough of the real state of Spain . . .

"Bear with me now in my criticisms on your second letter [that of 2nd May]. 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 mode of speaking to which we are not well accustomed; it savours, some of our friends would say, a little of the profane. Those who know you will not impute this to you. But you must remember that our Committee Room is public to a great extent, and I cannot omit expressions as I go reading on. Pious sentiments may be thrust into letters ad nauseam, and it is not for that I plead; but is there not a via media? "We are odd people, it may be, in England; we are not fond of prophets or 'prophetesses' [a reference to her of La Mancha about whom Borrow had previously been rebuked]. I have not turned back to your former description of the lady whom you have a second time introduced to our notice. Perhaps my wounded pride had not been made whole after the infliction you before gave it by contrasting the teacher of the prophetess with English rectors."

Borrow replied to this letter from Seville on 28th June, and there are indications that before doing so he took time to deliberate upon it.

"Think not, I pray you," he wrote, "that any observation of yours respecting style, or any peculiarities of expression which I am in the habit of exhibiting in my correspondence, can possibly awaken in me any feeling but that of grat.i.tude, knowing so well as I do the person who offers them, and the motives by which he is influenced. I have reflected on those pa.s.sages which you were pleased to point out as objectionable, and have nothing to reply further than that I have erred, that I am sorry, and will endeavour to mend, and that, moreover, I have already prayed for a.s.sistance to do so. Allow me, however, to offer a word, not in excuse but in explanation of the expression 'wonderful good fortune' which appeared in a former letter of mine. It is clearly objectionable, and, as you very properly observe, savours of pagan times. But I am sorry to say that I am much in the habit of repeating other people's sayings without weighing their propriety. The saying was not mine; but I heard it in conversation and thoughtlessly repeated it. A few miles from Seville I was telling the Courier of the many perilous journeys which I had accomplished in Spain in safety, and for which I thank the Lord. His reply was, 'La mucha suerte de Usted tambien nos ha acompanado en este viage." {292a}

Thus ended another unfortunate misunderstanding between secretary and agent.

Borrow had taken considerable risk in making the journey to Seville with the Courier. The whole of La Mancha was overrun with the Carlist-banditti, who, "whenever it pleases them, stop the Courier, burn the vehicle and letters, murder the paltry escort which attends, and carry away any chance pa.s.senger to the mountains, where an enormous ransom is demanded, which if not paid brings on the dilemma of four shots through the head, as the Spaniards say." The Courier's previous journey over the same route had ended in the murder of the escort and the burning of the coach, the Courier himself escaping through the good offices of one of the bandits, who had formerly been his postilion. Borrow was shown the blood-soaked turf and the skull of one of the soldiers. At Manzanares, Borrow invited to breakfast with him the Prophetess who was so unpopular at Earl Street.

Continuing the journey, he reached Seville without mishap, and a few days later Antonio arrived with the horses. It was found that the two cases of Testaments that had been forwarded from Madrid had been stopped at the Seville Customs House, and Borrow had recourse to subterfuge in order to get them and save his journey from being in vain.

"For a few dollars," he tells Mr Brandram (2nd May), "I procured a fiador or person who engaged THAT THE CHESTS should be carried down the river and embarked at San Lucar for a foreign land. Yesterday I hired a boat and sent them down, but on the way I landed in a secure place all the Testaments which I intend for this part of the country."

The fiador had kept to the letter of his undertaking, and the chests were duly delivered at San Lucar; but a considerable portion of their contents, some two hundred Testaments, had been abstracted, and these had to be smuggled into Seville under the cloaks of master and servant. The officials appear to have treated Borrow with the greatest possible courtesy and consideration, and they told him that his "intentions were known and honored."

Borrow had great hopes of achieving something for the Gospel's sake in Seville; but the operation would be a delicate one. To Mr Brandram he wrote:-

"Consider my situation here. I am in a city by nature very Levitical, as it contains within it the most magnificent and splendidly endowed cathedral of any in Spain. I am surrounded by priests and friars, who know and hate me, and who, if I commit the slightest act of indiscretion, will halloo their myrmidons against me. The press is closed to me, the libraries are barred against me, I have no one to a.s.sist me but my hired servant, no pious English families to comfort or encourage me, the British subjects here being ranker papists and a hundred times more bigoted than the Spanish themselves, the Consul, a RENEGADE QUAKER. Yet notwithstanding, with G.o.d's a.s.sistance, I will do much, though silently, burrowing like the mole in darkness beneath the ground. Those who have triumphed in Madrid, and in the two Castiles, where the difficulties were seven times greater, are not to be dismayed by priestly frowns at Seville."

{293a}

On arriving at Seville Borrow had put up at the Posada de la Reyna, in the Calle Gimios, and here on 4th May (he had arrived about 24th April) he encountered Lieut.-Colonel Elers Napier. Borrow liked nothing so well as appearing in the role of a mysterious stranger.

He loved mystery as much as a dramatic moment. His admiration of Baron Taylor was largely based upon the innumerable conjectures as to who it was that surrounded his puzzling personality with such an air of mystery. That May morning Colonel Napier, who was also staying at the Posada de la Reyna, was wandering about the galleries overlooking the patio. He writes:-

"whilst occupied in moralising over the dripping water spouts, I observed a tall, gentlemanly-looking man dressed in a semarra [zamarra, a sheepskin jacket with the wool outside] leaning over the bal.u.s.trades and apparently engaged in a similar manner with myself .

. . 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." {294a}

Colonel Napier was thoroughly mystified. The stranger answered his French in "the purest Parisian Accent"; yet he proved capable of speaking fluent English, of giving orders to his Greek servant in Romaic, of conversing "in good Castillian with 'mine host'," and of exchanging salutations in German with another resident at the fonda.

Later the Colonel had the gratification of startling the Unknown by replying to some remark of his in Hindi; but only momentarily, for he showed himself "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." {294b}

No one could give any information about "the mysterious Unknown," who or what he was, or why he was travelling. It was known that the police entertained suspicions that he was a Russian spy, and kept him under strict observation. Whatever else he was, Colonel Napier found him "a very agreeable companion." {295a}

On the following morning (a Sunday) Colonel Napier and his Unknown set out on horseback on an excursion to the ruins of Italica. As they sat on a ruined wall of the Convent of San Isidoro, contemplating the scene of ruin and desolation around, "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" some lines that the scene called up to his mind.

"I had been too much taken up with the scene," Colonel Napier continues, "the verses, and the strange being who was repeating them with so much feeling, to notice the approach of a slight female figure, beautiful in the extreme, but whose tattered garments, raven hair, swarthy complexion and flashing eyes proclaimed to be of the wandering tribe of Gitanos. From an intuitive sense of 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-- 'Caballeritos, una limosnita! Dios se la pagara a ustedes!'-- 'Gentlemen, a little charity; G.o.d 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.

"'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.'

"The girl looked astounded, replied in the same tongue, but in broken language; when, taking him by the arm, she said in Spanish, 'Come, cabellero--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 the gloomy abode were illumined by a fire the smoke from which escaped through a deep fissure in the mossy 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.

"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' [a sash in which the Spaniard carries a formidable clasp-knife] caused in me, 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.