The Life of George Borrow Part 28

10th June 1842.

"My advice again and again is to avoid all fine writing, all descriptions of mere scenery and trivial events. What the world wants are racy, real, genuine scenes, and the more out of the way the better. Poetry is utterly to be avoided. If Apollo were to come down from Heaven, John Murray would not take his best ma.n.u.script as a gift. Stick to yourself, to what you have seen, and the people you have mixed with. The more you give us of odd Jewish people the better . . . Avoid WORDS, stick to DEEDS. Never think of how you express yourself; for good matter MUST tell, and no fine writing will make bad matter good. Don't be afraid that what YOU may not think good will not be thought so by others. It often happens just the reverse . . . New facts seen in new and strange countries will please everybody; but old scenery, even Cintra, will not. We know all about that, and want something that we do not know . . . The grand thing is to be bold and to avoid the common track of the silver paper, silver fork, blue-stocking. Give us adventure, wild adventure, journals, thirty language book, sorcery, Jews, Gentiles, rambles, and the INTERIOR of Spanish prisons--the way you get in, the way you get out.

No author has yet given us a Spanish prison. Enter into the iniquities, the fees, the slang, etc. It will be a little a la Thurtell, but you see the people like to have it so. Avoid rant and cant. Dialogues always tell; they are dramatic and give an air of reality."

The Bible in Spain was published 10th December, and one of the first copies that reached him was inscribed by the author to "Ann Borrow.

With her son's best love, 13th Decr. 1842."

From the critics there was praise and scarcely anything but praise.

It was received as a work bearing the unmistakable stamp of genius.

Lockhart himself reviewed it in The Quarterly Review, confessing the shame he felt at not having reviewed The Zincali. "Very good--very clever--very neatly done. Only one fault to find--too laudatory,"

was Borrow's comment upon this notice.

And through the clamour and din of it all, old Mrs Borrow wrote to her daughter-in-law telling her of the call of an old friend, whom she had not seen for twenty-eight years, and who had come to talk with her of the fame of her son, "the most remarkable man that Dereham ever produced. Capt. Girling is a man of few words, but when he DO speak it is to some purpose." Ford wrote also (he was always writing impulsive, boyish letters) telling how Borrow's name would "fill the trump of fame," and that "Murray is in high bone" about the book. Hasfeldt wrote, too, saying that he saw his "friend 'tall George,' wandering over the mountains until I ached in every joint with the vividness of his descriptions."

In all this chorus of praise there was the complaint of the Dublin Review that "Borrow was a missionary sent out by a gang of conspirators against Christianity." Borrow's comment upon this notice was that "It is easier to call names and misquote pa.s.sages in a dirty Review than to write The Bible in Spain."

A second edition of The Bible in Spain was issued in January, to which the author contributed a preface, "very funny, but wild," he a.s.sured John Murray, Junr., and he promised "yet another preface for the third edition, should one be called for." The third edition appeared in March, the fourth in June, and the fifth in July. When the Fourth Edition was nearing completion Borrow wrote to Murray: "Would it be as well to write a preface to this FOURTH edition with a tirade or two against the Pope, and allusions to the Great North Road?" To which Murray replied, "With due submission to you as author, I would suggest that you should not abuse the Pope in the new preface."

In the flush of his success Borrow could afford to laugh at the few cavilling critics.

"Let them call me a nonent.i.ty if they will," he wrote to John Murray, Junr. (13th March). "I believe that some of those, who say I am a phantom, would alter their tone provided they were to ask me to a good dinner; bottles emptied and fowls devoured are not exactly the feats of a phantom. No! I partake more of the nature of a Brownie or Robin Goodfellow, goblins, 'tis true, but full of merriment and fun, and fond of good eating and drinking."

America echoed back the praise and bought the book in thousands.

Publishers issued editions in Philadelphia and New York; but Borrow did not partic.i.p.ate in the profits, as there was then no copyright protection for English books in the United States of America. The Athenaeum reported (27th May 1843) that 30,000 copies had been sold in America. "I really never heard of anything so infamous," wrote Borrow to his wife. The only thing that America gave him was praise and (in common with other countries) a place in its biographical dictionaries and encyclopaedias. The Bible in Spain was translated into French and German and subsequently (abridged) into Russian.

What appeared to please Borrow most was Sir Robert Peel's reference to him in the House of Commons, although he regretted the scanty report of the speech given in the newspapers. Replying to Dr Bowring's (at that time Borrow's friend) motion "for copies of the correspondence of the British Government with the Porte on the subject of the Bishop of Jerusalem," Sir Robert remarked: "If Mr Borrow had been deterred by trifling obstacles, the circulation of the Bible in Spain would never have been advanced to the extent which it had happily attained. If he had not persevered he would not have been the agent of so much enlightment." {352a}

There were many things that contributed to the instantaneous success of The Bible in Spain. Apart from the vivid picture that it gave of the indomitable courage and iron determination of a man commanding success, its literary qualities, and enthralling interest, its greatest commercial a.s.set lay in its appeal to the Religious Public.

Never, perhaps, had they been invited to read such a book, because never had the Bible been distributed by so amazing a missionary as George Borrow. Gil Blas with a touch of Bunyan, as Ford delightfully phrased it, and not too much Bunyan. Thieves, murderers, gypsies, bandits, prisons, wars--all knit together by the missionary work of a man who was persona grata with every lawless ruffian he encountered, and yet a sower of the seed. The Religious Public did not pause to ponder over the strangeness of the situation. They had fallen among thieves, and with breathless eagerness were prepared to enjoy to the full the novel experience.

Here was a religious book full of the most exquisite material thrills without a suggestion of a spiritual moral. Criminals were encountered, their deeds rehea.r.s.ed and the customary sermon upon the evils arising from wickedness absent. It was a stimulating drink to unaccustomed palates. The Bible in Spain sold in its thousands.

The accuracy of the book has never been questioned; if it had, Borrow's letters to the Bible Society would immediately settle any doubt that might arise. If there be one incident in the work that appears invented, it is the story of Benedict Moll, the treasure- hunter; yet even that is authentic. In the following letter, dated 22nd June 1839, Rey Romero, the bookseller of Santiago, refers to the unfortunate Benedict Moll:-

"The German of the Treasure," he writes, "came here last year bearing letters from the Government for the purpose of discovering it. But, a few days after his arrival, they threw him into prison; from thence he wrote me, making himself known as the one you introduced to me; wherefore my son went to see him in prison. He told my son that you also had been arrested, but I could not credit it. A short time after, they took him off to Coruna; then they brought him back here again, and I do not know what has become of him since." {353a}

Borrow now became the lion of the hour. He was feted and feasted in London, and everybody wanted to meet the wonderful white-haired author of The Bible in Spain. One day he is breakfasting with the Prussian Amba.s.sador, "with princes and members of Parliament, I was the star of the morning," he writes to his wife. "I thought to myself 'what a difference!'" Later he was present at a grand soiree, "and the people came in throngs to be introduced to me. To-night,"

he continues, "I am going to the Bishop of Norwich, to-morrow to another place, and so on." {354a}

Borrow had been much touched by the news of the death of Allan Cunningham (1785-1842).

"Only think, poor Allan Cunningham dead!" he wrote to John Murray, Junr. (25th Nov. 1842). "A young man--only fifty-eight--strong and tall as a giant; might have lived to a hundred and one, but he bothered himself about the affairs of this world far too much. That statue shop was his bane; took to book making likewise, in a word too fond of Mammon--awful death--no preparation--came literally upon him like a thief in the dark. Am thinking of writing a short life of him; old friend--twenty years' standing, knew a good deal about him; Traditional Tales his best work . . .

"Pray send Dr Bowring a copy of Bible. Lives No. 1, Queen Square, Westminster, another old friend. Send one to Ford--capital fellow.

Respects to Mr M. G.o.d bless you. Feel quite melancholy, Ever yours."

In these Jinglelike periods Borrow pays tribute to the man who praised his Romantic Ballads and contributed a prefatory poem. He returned to the subject ten days later in another letter to John Murray, Junr. "I can't get poor Allan out of my head," he wrote.

"When I come up I intend to go and see his wife. What a woman!"

Fame did not dispel from Borrow's mind the old restlessness, the desire for action. He was still unwell, worried at the sight of "Popery . . . springing up in every direction . . . THERE'S NO PEACE IN THIS WORLD." {355a} A cold contracted by his wife distressed him to the point of complaining that "there is little but trouble in this world; I am nearly tired of it." {355b} Exercise failed to benefit him. He was suffering from languor and nervousness. And through it all that Spartan woman who had committed the gravest of matrimonial errors, that of marrying a genius, soothed and comforted the sick lion, tired even of victory.

Small things troubled him and honours awakened in him no enthusiasm.

The Times in reviewing The Bible in Spain had inferred that he was not a member of the Church of England, {355c} and the statement "must be contradicted." The Royal Inst.i.tution was prepared to confer an honour upon him, and he could not make up his mind whether or not to accept it.

"What would the Inst.i.tute expect me to write?" he enquires of John Murray, Junr., 25th Feb. 1843. "(I have exhausted Spain and the Gypsies.) Would an essay on the Welsh language and literature suit, with an account of the Celtic tongues? Or would something about the ancient North and its literature be more acceptable? . . . Had it been the Royal Academy, I should have consented at once, and do hereby empower you to accept in my name any offer which may be made from that quarter. I should very much like to become an Academician, the thing would just suit me, more especially as 'they do not want CLEVER men, but SAFE men.' Now I am safe enough, ask the Bible Society, whose secrets I have kept so much to their satisfaction, that they have just accepted at my hands an English Gypsy Gospel gratis." {356a}

He declined an invitation to join the Ethnological Society.

"Who are they?" he enquires in the same letter. "At present I am in great demand. A Bishop has just requested me to visit him. The worst of these Bishops is that they are all skinflints, saving for their families; their cuisine is bad and their Port-wine execrable, and as for their cigars--. . . "

Borrow strove to quiet his spirit by touring about Norfolk, "putting up at dead of night in country towns and small villages." He returned to Oulton at the end of a fortnight, having tired himself and knocked up his horse. Even the news that a new edition of The Bible in Spain was required could not awaken in him any enthusiasm.

He was glad the book had sold, as he knew it would, and he would like a rough estimate of the profits. A few days later he writes to John Murray, Junr., with reference to a new edition of The Zincali, saying that he finds "that there is far more connection between the first and second volumes than he had imagined," and begging that the reprint may be the same as the first. "It would take nearly a month to refashion the book," he continues, "and I believe a month's mental labour at the present time would do me up." The weather in particular affected, him. For years he had been accustomed to sun- warmed Spain, and the gloom and greyness of England depressed him.

"Strange weather this," he had written to John Murray (31st Dec.

1842)--"very unwholesome I believe both for man and beast. Several people dead and great mortality amongst the cattle. Am intolerably well myself, but get but little rest--disagreeable dreams--digestion not quite so good as I could wish--been on the water system--won't do--have left it off, and am now taking lessons in singing."

Many men have earned the reputation of madness for less eccentric actions than taking lessons in singing as a cure for indigestion, after the failure of the water cure.

Although he was receiving complimentary letters from all quarters and from people he had never even heard of, he seemed acutely unhappy.

"I did wrong," he writes to his wife from London (29th May 1843), "not to bring you when I came, for without you I cannot get on at all. Left to myself, a gloom comes upon me which I cannot describe.

I will endeavour to be home on Thursday, as I wish so much to be with you, without whom there is no joy for me nor rest. You tell me to ask for SITUATIONS, etc. I am not at all suited for them. My place seems to be in our own dear cottage, where, with your help, I hope to prepare for a better world . . . I dare say I shall be home on Thursday, perhaps earlier, if I am unwell; for the poor bird when in trouble has no one to fly to but his mate." And a few days later: "I wish I had not left home. Take care of yourself. Kiss poor Hen."

During his stay in London, Borrow sat to Henry Wyndham Phillips, R.A., for his portrait. {357a} On 21st June John Murray wrote: "I have seen your portrait. Phillips is going to saw off a bit of the panel, which will give you your proper and characteristic height.

Next year you will doubtless cut a great figure in the Exhibition.

It is the best thing young Phillips has done." The painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844 as "George Borrow, Esq., author of The Bible in Spain," and is now in the possession of Mr John Murray.

There is a story told in connection with the painting of this portrait. Borrow was a bad sitter, and visibly chafed at remaining indoors doing nothing. To overcome this restlessness the painter had recourse to a clever stratagem. He enquired of his sitter if Persian were really a fine language, as he had heard; Borrow a.s.sured him that it was, and at Phillips' request, started declaiming at the top of his voice, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. When he ceased, the wily painter mentioned other tongues, Turkish, Armenian, etc., in each instance with the same result, and the painting of the portrait became an easy matter.

On 23rd June John Murray (the Second) died, at the age of sixty-five, and was succeeded by his son. "Poor old Murray!" Ford wrote to Borrow, "We shall never see his like again. He . . . was a fine fellow in every respect." In another letter he refers to him as "that Prince of Bibliophiles, poor, dear, old Murray." Borrow's own relations with John Murray had always been most cordial. On one occasion, when writing to his son, he says: "I shall be most happy to see you and still more your father, whose jokes do one good. I wish all the world were as gay as he." Then without a break, he goes on to deplore the fact that "a gentleman drowned himself last week on my property. I wish he had gone somewhere else." Such was George Borrow.

For some time past Borrow's thoughts had been directed towards obtaining a Government post abroad. The sentence, "You tell me to ask for situations, etc.," in a letter to his wife had reference to this ambition. He had previously (21st June 1841) written to Lord Clarendon suggesting for himself a consulship; but the reply had not been encouraging. It was "quite hopeless to expect a consulship from Lord Palmerston, the applicants were too many and the appointments too few."