collected and sent to their destination, where they were purified and arranged–a work of no small time and difficulty, at which I was obliged to assist. Not finding with the type what is called ‘Durchschuss’ by the printers here, consisting of leaden wedges of about six ounces weight each, which form the spaces between the lines, I ordered 120 pounds weight of those at a rouble a pound, being barely enough for three sheets. {129a} I had now to teach the compositors the Manchu alphabet, and to distinguish one character from another. This occupied a few days, at the end of which I gave them the commencement of St Matthew’s Gospel to copy. They no sooner saw the work they were called upon to perform than there were loud murmurs of dissatisfaction, and . . . ‘It is quite impossible to do the like,’ was the cry–and no wonder. The original printed Gospel had been so interlined and scribbled upon by the author, in a hand so obscure and irregular, that, accustomed as I was to the perusal of the written Manchu, it was not without the greatest difficulty that I could decipher the new matter myself. Moreover, the corrections had been so carelessly made that they themselves required far more correction than the original matter. I was therefore obliged to be continually in the printing-office, and to do three parts of the work myself. For some time I found it necessary to select every character with my own fingers, and to deliver it to the compositor, and by so doing I learnt myself to compose. We continued in this way till all our characters were exhausted, for no paper had arrived. For two weeks and more we were obliged to pause, the want of paper being insurmountable. At the end of this period came six reams; but partly from the manufacturers not being accustomed to make this species of paper, and partly from the excessive heat of the weather, which caused it to dry too fast, only one ream and a half could be used, and this was not enough for one sheet; the rest I refused to take, and sent back. The next week came fifteen reams. This paper, from the same causes, was as bad as the last. I selected four reams, and sent the rest back. But this paper enabled us to make a beginning, which we did not fail to do, though we received no more for upwards of a fortnight, which caused another pause. At the end of that time, owing to my pressing remonstrances and entreaties, a regular supply of about twelve reams per week of most excellent paper commenced. This continued until we had composed the last five sheets of St Matthew, when some paper arrived, which in my absence was received by Mr Beneze, who, without examining it, as was his duty, delivered it to the printers to use in the printing of the said sheets, who accordingly printed upon part of it. But the next day, when my occupation permitted me to see what they were about, I observed that the last paper was of a quality very different from that which had been previously sent. I accordingly instantly stopped the press, and, notwithstanding eight reams had been printed upon, I sent all the strange paper back, and caused Mr Beneze to recompose three sheets, which had been broken up, at his own expense. But this caused the delay of another week.
This last circumstance made me determine not to depend in future for paper on one manufactory alone. I therefore stated to Mr P[luchard] that, as his people were unable to furnish me with the article fast enough, I should apply to others for 250 reams, and begged him to supply me with the rest as fast as possible. He made no objection. Thereupon I prevailed upon my most excellent friend, Baron Schilling, to speak to his acquaintance, State-Councillor Alquin, who is possessed of a paper-factory, on the subject. M. Alquin, as a personal favour to Baron Schilling (whom, I confess, I was ashamed to trouble upon such an affair, and should never have done so had not zeal for the cause induced me), consented to furnish me with the required paper on the same terms as Mr P. At present there is not the slightest risk of the progress of our work being retarded–at present, indeed, the path is quite easy; but the trouble, anxiety, and misery which have till lately harassed me, alone in a situation of great responsibility, have almost reduced me to a skeleton.
My dearest Sir, do me the favour to ask our excellent Committee, Would it have answered any useful purpose if, instead of continuing to struggle with difficulties and using my utmost to overcome them, I had written in the following strain–and what else could I have written if I had written at all?–‘I was sent out to St Petersburg to assist Mr Lipovzoff in the editing of the Manchu Testament. That gentleman, who holds three important Situations under the Russian Government, and who is far advanced in years, has neither time, inclination, nor eyesight for the task, and I am apprehensive that my strength and powers unassisted are incompetent to it’ (praised be the Lord, they were not!), ‘therefore I should be glad to return home. Moreover, the compositors say they are unaccustomed to compose in an unknown tongue from such scribbled and illegible copy, and they will scarcely assist me to compose. Moreover, the working printers say (several went away in disgust) that the paper on which they have to print is too thin to be wetted, and that to print on dry requires a twofold exertion of strength, and that they will not do such work for double wages, for it ruptures them.’ Would that have been a welcome communication to the Committee? Would that have been a communication suited to the public? I was resolved ‘to do or die,’ and, instead of distressing and perplexing the Committee with complaints, to write nothing until I could write something perfectly satisfactory, as I now can; {132a} and to bring about that result I have spared neither myself nor my own money. I have toiled in a close printing-office the whole day, during ninety degrees of heat, for the purpose of setting an example, and have bribed people to work when nothing but bribes would induce them so to do.
I am obliged to say all this in self-justification. No member of the Bible Society would ever have heard a syllable respecting what I have undergone but for the question, ‘What has Mr Borrow been about?’ I hope and trust that question is now answered to the satisfaction of those who do Mr Borrow the honour to employ him. In respect to the expense attending the editing of such a work as the New Testament in Manchu, I beg leave to observe that I have obtained the paper, the principal source of expense, at fifteen roubles per ream less than the Society formerly paid for it–that is to say, at nearly half the price.
As St Matthew’s Gospel has been ready for some weeks, it is high time that it should be bound; for if that process be delayed, the paper will be dirtied and the work injured. I am sorry to inform you that book-binding in Russia is incredibly dear, {132b} and that the expenses attending the binding of the Testament would amount, were the usual course pursued, to two-thirds of the entire expenses of the work. Various book-binders to whom I have applied have demanded one rouble and a half for the binding of every section of the work, so that the sum required for the binding of one Testament alone would be twelve roubles. Doctor Schmidt assured me that one rouble and forty copecks, or, according to the English currency, fourteenpence halfpenny, were formerly paid for the binding of every individual copy of St Matthew’s Gospel.
I pray you, my dear Sir, to cause the books to be referred to, for I wish to know if that statement be correct. In the meantime arrangements have to be made, and the Society will have to pay for each volume of the Testament the comparatively small sum of forty- five copecks, or fourpence halfpenny, whereas the usual price here for the most paltry covering of the most paltry pamphlet is fivepence. Should it be demanded how I have been able to effect this, my reply is that I have had little hand in the matter. A nobleman who honours me with particular friendship, and who is one of the most illustrious ornaments of Russia and of Europe, has, at my request, prevailed on his own book-binder, over whom he has much influence, to do the work on these terms. That nobleman is Baron Schilling.
Commend me to our most respected Committee. Assure them that in whatever I have done or left undone, I have been influenced by a desire to promote the glory of the Trinity and to give my employers ultimate and permanent satisfaction. If I have erred, it has been from a defect of judgment, and I ask pardon of God and them. In the course of a week I shall write again, and give a further account of my proceedings, for I have not communicated one-tenth of what I have to impart; but I can write no more now. It is two hours past midnight; the post goes away to-morrow, and against that morrow I have to examine and correct three sheets of St Mark’s Gospel, which lie beneath the paper on which I am writing. With my best regards to Mr Brandram,
I remain, dear Sir,
Most truly yours,
G. BORROW.
Rev. JOSEPH JOWETT.
Closely following upon this letter, and without waiting for a reply, Borrow wrote again to Mr Jowett, 13th/25th October, enclosing a certificate from Mr Lipovzoff, which read:-
“Testifio:- Dominum Burro ab initio usque ad hoc tempus summa cum diligentia et studio in re Mantshurica laborasse, Lipovzoff.”
He also reported progress as regards the printing, and promised (D.V.) that the entire undertaking should be completed by the first of May; but the letter was principally concerned with the projected expedition to Kiakhta, to distribute the books he was so busily occupied in printing. He repeated his former arguments, urging the Committee to send an agent to Kiakhta. “I am a person of few words,” he assured Mr Jowett, “and will therefore state without circumlocution that I am willing to become that agent. I speak Russ, Manchu, and the Tartar or broken Turkish of the Russian Steppes, and have also some knowledge of Chinese, which I might easily improve.” As regards the danger to himself of such a hazardous undertaking, the conversion of the Tartar would never be achieved without danger to someone. He had become acquainted with many of the Tartars resident in St Petersburg, whose language he had learned through conversing with his servant (a native of Bucharia [Bokhara]), and he had become “much attached to them; for their conscientiousness, honesty, and fidelity are beyond all praise.”
To this further offer Mr Jowett replied:-
“Be not disheartened, even though the Committee postpone for the present the consideration of your enterprising, not to say intrepid, proposal. Thus much, however, I may venture to say: that the offer is more likely to be accepted now, than when you first made it. If, when the time approaches for executing such a plan, you give us reason to believe that a more mature consideration of it in all its bearings still leaves you in hope of a successful result, and in heart for making the attempt, my own opinion is that the offer will ultimately be accepted, and that very cordially.”
CHAPTER IX: NOVEMBER 1834-SEPTEMBER 1835
Borrow was an unconventional editor. He foresaw the interminable delays likely to arise from allowing workmen to incorporate his corrections in the type. To obviate these, he first corrected the proof, then, proceeding to the printing office, he made with his own hands the necessary alterations in the type. This involved only two proofs, the second to be submitted to Mr Lipovzoff, instead of some half a dozen that otherwise would have been necessary. During these days Borrow was ubiquitous. Even the binder required his assistance, “for everything goes wrong without a strict surveillance.”
Borrow had passed through THE crisis in his career. Stricken with fever, which was followed by an attack of the “Horrors” (only to be driven away by port wine), he had scarcely found time in which to eat or sleep. He had emerged triumphantly from the ordeal, and if he had “almost killed Beneze and his lads”{135a} with work, he had not spared himself. If he had to report, as he did, that “my two compositors, whom I had instructed in all the mysteries of Manchu composition, are in the hospital, down with the brain fever,” {135b} he himself had grown thin from the incessant toil.
The simple manliness and restrained dignity of his justification had produced a marked effect upon the authorities at home. If the rebuke administered by Mr Jowett had been mild, his acknowledgment of the reply that it had called forth was most cordial and friendly. After assuring Borrow of the Committee’s high satisfaction at the way in which its interests had been looked after, he proceeds sincerely to deprecate anything in his previous letter which may have caused Borrow pain, and continues:
“Yet I scarcely know how to be sorry for what has been the occasion of drawing from you (what you might otherwise have kept locked up in your own breast) the very interesting story of your labours, vexations, disappointments, vigilance, address, perseverance, and successes. How you were able in your solitude to keep up your spirits in the face of so many impediments, apparently insurmountable, I know not . . . Do not fear that WE should in any way interrupt your proceedings. We know our interest too well to interfere with an agent who has shown so much address in planning, and so much diligence in effecting, the execution of our wishes.”
These encouraging words were followed by a request that he would keep a careful account of all extraordinary expenses, that they might be duly met by the Society:-
“I allude, you perceive, to such things,” the letter goes on to explain, “as your journies huc et illuc in quest of a better market, and to the occasional bribes to disheartened workmen. In all matters of this kind the Society is clearly your debtor.” Borrow replied with a flash of his old independent spirit: “I return my most grateful thanks for this most considerate intimation, which, nevertheless, I cannot avail myself of, as, according to one of the articles of my agreement, my salary of 200 pounds was to cover all extra expenses. Petersburg is doubtless the dearest capital in Europe, and expenses meet an individual, especially one situated as I have been, at every turn and corner; but an agreement is not to be broken on that account.” {136a}
That the Committee, even before this proof of his ability, had been well pleased with their engagement of Borrow is shown by the acknowledgment made in the Society’s Thirtieth Annual Report: “Mr Borrow has not disappointed the expectation entertained.”
There were other words of encouragement to cheer him in his labours. His mother wrote in September of that year, telling him how, at a Bible Society’s gathering at Norwich, which had lasted the whole of a week, his name “was sounded through the Hall by Mr Gurney and Mr Cunningham”; telling how he had left his home and his friends to do God’s work in a foreign land, calling upon their fellow-citizens to offer up prayers beseeching the Almighty to vouchsafe to him health and strength that the great work he had undertaken might be completed. “All this is very pleasing to me,” added the proud old lady. “God bless you!”
From Mrs Clarke of Oulton Hall, with whom he kept up a correspondence, he heard how his name had been mentioned at many of the Society’s meetings during the year, and how the Rev. Francis Cunningham had referred to him as “one of the most extraordinary and interesting individuals of the present day.” Even at that date, viz., before the receipt of the remarkable account of his labours, the members and officials of the Bible Society seem to have come to the conclusion that he had achieved far more than they had any reason to expect of him. Their subsequent approval is shown by the manner in which they caused his two letters of 8th/20th and 13th/25th October to be circulated among the influential members of the Society, until at last they had reached the Rev. F. Cunningham and Mrs Clarke.
About the middle of January (old style) 1835, Borrow placed in the hands of Baron Schilling a copy of each of the four Gospels in Manchu, to be conveyed to the Bible Society by one of the couriers attached to the Foreign Department at St Petersburg; but they did not reach Earl Street until several weeks later. There were however, still the remaining four volumes to complete, and many more difficulties to overcome.
One vexation that presented itself was a difference of opinion between Borrow and Lipovzoff, who “thought proper, when the Father Almighty is addressed, to erase the personal and possessive pronouns thou or thine, as often as they occur, and in their stead to make use of the noun as the case may require. For example, ‘O Father! thou art merciful’ he would render, ‘O Father! the Father is merciful.'” Borrow protested, but Lipovzoff, who was “a gentleman, whom the slightest contradiction never fails to incense to a most incredible degree,” told him that he talked nonsense, and refused to concede anything. {138a} Lipovzoff, who had on his side the Chinese scholars and unlimited powers as official censor (from whose decree there was no appeal) over his own work, carried his point. He urged that “amongst the Chinese and Tartars, none but the dregs of society were ever addressed in the second person; and that it would be most uncouth and indecent to speak of the Almighty as if He were a servant or a slave.” This difficulty of the verbal ornament of the East was one that the Bible Society had frequently met with in the past. It was rightly considered as ill-fitting a translation of the words of Christ. Simplicity of diction was to be preserved at all costs, whatever might be the rule with secular books. Mr Jowett had warned Borrow to “beware of confounding the two distinct ideas of translation and interpretation!” {138b} and also informed him that “the passion for honorific-abilitudinity is a vice of Asiatic languages, which a Scripture translator, above all others, ought to beware of countenancing.” {139a}
Well might Borrow write to Mr Jowett, “How I have been enabled to maintain terms of friendship and familiarity with Mr Lipovzoff, and yet fulfil the part which those who employ me expect me to fulfil, I am much at a loss to conjecture; and yet such is really the case.” {139b} On the whole, however, the two men worked harmoniously together, the censor-translator being usually amenable to editorial reason and suggestion; and Borrow was able to assure Mr Jowett that with the exception of this one instance “the word of God has been rendered into Manchu as nearly and closely as the idiom of a very singular language would permit.”
Borrow’s mind continued to dwell upon the project of penetrating into China and distributing the Scriptures himself. He wrote again, repeating “the assurance that I am ready to attempt anything which the Society may wish me to execute, and, at a moment’s warning, will direct my course towards Canton, Pekin, or the court of the Grand Lama.” {139c} The project had, however, to be abandoned. The Russian Government, desirous of maintaining friendly relations with China, declined to risk her displeasure for a missionary project in which Russia had neither interest nor reasonable expectation of gain. In agreeing to issue a passport such as Borrow desired, it stipulated that he should carry with him “not one single Manchu Bible thither.” {139d} In spite of this discouragement, Borrow wrote to Mr Jowett with regard to the Chinese programme, “I AGAIN REPEAT THAT I AM AT COMMAND.” {139e}
This determination on Borrow’s part to become a missionary filled his mother with alarm. She had only one son now, and the very thought of his going into wild and unknown regions seemed to her tantamount to his going to his death. Mrs Clarke also expressed strong disapproval of the project. “I must tell you,” she wrote, “that your letter chilled me when I read your intention of going as a Missionary or Agent, with the Manchu Scriptures in your hand, to the Tartars, the land of incalculable dangers.”
By the middle of May 1835 Borrow saw the end of his labours in sight. On 3rd/15th May he wrote asking for instructions relative to the despatch of the bulk of the volumes, and also as to the disposal of the type. “As for myself,” he continues, “I suppose I must return to England, as my task will be speedily completed. I hope the Society are convinced that I have served them faithfully, and that I have spared no labour to bring out the work, which they did me the honor of confiding to me, correctly and within as short a time as possible. At my return, if the Society think that I can still prove of utility to them, I shall be most happy to devote myself still to their service. 1 am a person full of faults and weaknesses, as I am every day reminded by bitter experience, but I am certain that my zeal and fidelity towards those who put confidence in me are not to be shaken.” {140a}
On 15th/27th June he reported the printing completed and six out of the eight volumes bound, and that as soon as the remaining two volumes were ready, he intended to take his departure from St Petersburg; but a new difficulty arose. The East had laid a heavy hand upon St Petersburg. “To-morrow, please God!” met the energetic Westerner at every turn. The bookbinder delayed six weeks because he could not procure some paper he required. But the real obstacle to the despatch of the books was the non-arrival of the Government sanction to their shipment. Nothing was permitted to move either in or out of the sacred city of the Tsars without official permission. Probably those responsible for the administration of affairs had never in their experience been called upon to deal with a man such as Borrow. To apply to him the customary rules of procedure was to bring upon “the House of Interior Affairs” a series of visits and demands that must have left it limp with astonishment.
On 16th/28th July Borrow wrote to the Bible Society, “I herewith send you a bill of lading for six of the eight parts of the New Testament, which I have at last obtained permission to send away, after having paid sixteen visits to the House of Interior Affairs.” {141a} He expresses a hope that in another fortnight he will have despatched the remaining two volumes and have “bidden adieu to Russia”; but it was dangerous to anticipate the official course of events in Russia. Even to the last Borrow was tormented by red tape. Early in August the last two volumes were ready for shipment to England; but he could not obtain the necessary permission. He was told that he ought never to have printed the work, in spite of the license that had been granted, and that grave doubts existed in the official mind as to whether or no he really were an agent of the Bible Society. At length Borrow lost patience and told the officials that during the week following the books would be despatched, with or without permission, and he warned them to have a care how they acted. These strong measures seem to have produced the desired result.
Despite his many occupations on behalf of the Bible Society, Borrow found time in which to translate into Russian the first three Homilies of the Church of England, and into Manchu the Second. His desire was that the Homily Society should cause these translations to be printed, and in a letter to the Rev. Francis Cunningham he strove to enlist his interest in the project, offering the translations without fee to the Society if they chose to make use of them. {141b} As “a zealous, though most unworthy, member of the Anglican Church,” he found that his “cheeks glowed with shame at seeing dissenters, English and American, busily employed in circulating Tracts in the Russian tongue, whilst the members of the Church were following their secular concerns, almost regardless of things spiritual in respect to the Russian population.” {142a}
Borrow also translated into English “one of the sacred books of Boudh, or Fo,” from Baron Schilling de Canstadt’s library. The principal occupation of his leisure hours, however, was a collection of translations, which he had printed by Schultz & Beneze, and published (3rd/ 15th June 1835) under the title of Targum, or Metrical Translations from Thirty Languages and Dialects. {142b} In a prefatory note, the collection is referred to as “selections from a huge and undigested mass of translation, accumulated during several years devoted to philological pursuits.” Three months later he published another collection entitled The Talisman, From the Russian of Alexander Pushkin. With Other Pieces. {143a} There were seven poems in all, two after Pushkin, one from the Malo-Russian, one from Mickiewicz, and three “ancient Russian Songs.” Again the printers were Schultz & Beneze. Each of these editions appears to have been limited to one hundred copies. {143b}
Writing in the Athenaeum, {143c} J. P. H[asfeldt] says:- “The work is a pearl in literature, and, like pearls, derives value from its scarcity, for the whole edition was limited to about a hundred copies.” W. B. Donne admired the translations immensely, considering “the language and rhythm as vastly superior to Macaulay’s Lays of Ancient Rome.” {143d}
Whilst the last two volumes of the Manchu New Testament were waiting for paper (probably for end-papers), Borrow determined to pay a hurried visit to Moscow, “by far the most remarkable city it has ever been my fortune to see.” One of his principal objects in visiting the ancient capital of Russia was to see the gypsies, who flourished there as they flourished nowhere else in Europe. They numbered several thousands, and many of them inhabited large and handsome houses, drove in their carriages, and were “distinguishable from the genteel class of the Russians only . . . by superior personal advantages and mental accomplishments.” {143e} For this unusual state of prosperity the women were responsible, “having from time immemorial cultivated their vocal powers to such an extent that, although in the heart of a country in which the vocal art has arrived at greater perfection than in any other part of the world, the principal Gypsy choirs in Moscow are allowed by the general voice of the public to be unrivalled and to bear away the palm from all competitors. It is a fact notorious in Russia that the celebrated Catalani was so filled with admiration for the powers of voice displayed by one of the Gypsy songsters, who, after the former had sung before a splendid audience at Moscow, stepped forward and with an astonishing burst of melody ravished every ear, that she [Catalani] tore from her own shoulders a shawl of immense value which had been presented to her by the Pope, and embracing the Gypsy, compelled her to accept it, saying that it had been originally intended for the matchless singer, which she now discovered was not herself.” {144a}
These Russian gypsy singers lived luxurious lives and frequently married Russian gentry or even the nobility. It was only the successes, however, who achieved such distinction, and there were “a great number of low, vulgar, and profligate females who sing in taverns, or at the various gardens in the neighbourhood, and whose husbands and male connections subsist by horse-jobbing and such kinds of low traffic.” {144b}
One fine evening Borrow hired a calash and drove out to Marina Rotze, “a kind of sylvan garden,” about one and a half miles out of Moscow, where this particular class of Romanys resorted. “Upon my arriving there,” he writes, “the Gypsies swarmed out of their tents and from the little tracteer or tavern, and surrounded me. Standing on the seat of the calash, I addressed them in a loud voice in the dialect of the English Gypsies, with which I have some slight acquaintance. A scream of wonder instantly arose, and welcomes and greetings were poured forth in torrents of musical Romany, amongst which, however, the most pronounced cry was: ah kak mi toute karmuma {145a}–‘Oh how we love you’; for at first they supposed me to be one of their brothers, who, they said, were wandering about in Turkey, China, and other parts, and that I had come over the great pawnee, or water, to visit them.” {145b}
On several other occasions during his stay at Moscow, Borrow went out to Marina Rotze, to hold converse with the gypsies. He “spoke to them upon their sinful manner of living,” about Christianity and the advent of Christ, to which the gypsies listened with attention, but apparently not much profit. The promise that they would soon be able to obtain the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth in their own tongue interested them far more on account of the pleasurable strangeness of the idea, than from any anticipation that they might derive spiritual comfort from such writings.
Returning to St Petersburg from Moscow, after four-days’ absence, Borrow completed his work, settled up his affairs, bade his friends good-bye, and on 28th August/9th September left for Cronstadt to take the packet for Lubeck. The authorities seem to have raised no objection to his departure. His passport bore the date 28th August O/S (the actual day he left) and described him as “of stature, tall– hair, grey–face, oval–forehead, medium–eyebrows, blonde–eyes, brown–nose and mouth, medium–chin, round.”
Borrow’s work at St Petersburg gave entire satisfaction to the Bible Society. The Official Report for the year 1835 informed the members that –
“The printing of the Manchu New Testament in St Petersburg is now drawing to a conclusion. Mr G. Borrow, who has had to superintend the work, has in every way afforded satisfaction to the Committee. They have reason to believe that his acquirements in the language are of the most respectable order; while the devoted diligence with which he has laboured, and the skill he has shown in surmounting difficulties, and conducting his negotiations for the advantage of the Society, justly entitle him to this public acknowledgment of his services.” {146a}
Of the actual work itself John Hasfeldt justly wrote:
“I can only say, that it is a beautiful edition of an oriental work– that it is printed with great care on a fine imitation of Chinese paper, made on purpose. At the outset, Mr Borrow spent weeks and months in the printing office to make the compositors acquainted with the intricate Manchu types; and that, as for the contents, I am assured by well-informed persons, that this translation is remarkable for the correctness and fidelity with which it has been executed.” {146b}
The total cost to the Society of his labours in connection with the transcription of Puerot’s MS., and printing and binding one thousand copies of Lipovzoff’s New Testament had reached the very considerable sum of 2600 pounds. What the amount would have been if Borrow had not proved a prince of bargainers, it is impossible to imagine. The entire edition was sent to Earl Street, and eventually distributed in China as occasion offered. An edition of the Gospels in this version has recently been reprinted, and is still in use among certain tribes in Mongolia.
Borrow arrived in London somewhere about 20th September (new style), after an absence of a little more than two years. He went to St Petersburg “prejudiced against the country, the government, and the people; the first is much more agreeable than is generally supposed; the second is seemingly the best adapted for so vast an empire; and the third, even the lowest classes, are in general kind, hospitable, and benevolent.” {147a}
On 23rd September Borrow was still in London writing his report to the General Committee upon his recent labours. In all probability he left immediately afterwards for Norwich, there to await events.
CHAPTER X: OCTOBER 1835-JANUARY 1836
Borrow had strong hopes that the Bible Society would continue to employ him. Mr Brandram had written (5th June 1835) that the Committee “will not very willingly suffer themselves to be deprived of your services. From Russia Borrow had written to his mother: {148a}
“They [the Bible Society] place great confidence in me, and I am firmly resolved to do all in my power to prove that they have not misplaced that confidence. I dare say that when I return home they will always be happy to employ me to edit their Bibles, and there is no employment in the whole world which I should prefer and for which I am better fitted. I shall, moreover, endeavour to get ordained.”
On another occasion he wrote, also to his mother:
“I hope that the Bible Society will employ me upon something new, for I have of late led an active life, and dread the thought of having nothing to do except studying as formerly, and I am by no means certain that I could sit down to study now. I can do anything if it is to turn to any account; but it is very hard to dig holes in the sand and fill them up again, as I used to do. However, I hope God will find me something on which I can employ myself with credit and profit. I should like very much to get into the Church, though I suppose that that, like all other professions, is overstocked.”
Mrs Borrow reminded him that he had a good home ready to receive him, and a mother grown lonely with long waiting. She told him, among other things, that she had spent none of the money that he had so generously and unsparingly sent her.
Borrow certainly had every reason to expect further employment. He had proved himself not only a thoroughly qualified editor; but had discovered business qualities that must have astonished and delighted the General Committee. Above all he had brought to a most successful conclusion a venture that, but for his ability and address, would in all probability have failed utterly. The application for permission to proceed with the distribution had, it is true, been unsuccessful; but there was, as Mr Brandram wrote, the “seed laid up in the granary; but ‘it is not yet written’ that the sowers are to go forth to sow.”
After remaining for a short time with his mother at Norwich, Borrow appears to have paid a visit to his friends the Skeppers of Oulton. Old Mrs Skepper, Mrs Clarke’s mother, had just died, and it is a proof of Borrow’s intimacy with the family that he should be invited to stay with them whilst they were still in mourning. Although there is no record of the date when he arrived at Oulton, he is known to have been there on 9th October, when he addressed a Bible Society meeting, about which he wrote the following delectable postscript to a letter he addressed to Mr Brandram: {149a}
“There has been a Bible meeting at Oulton, in Suffolk, to which I was invited. The speaking produced such an effect, that some of the most vicious characters in the neighbourhood have become weekly subscribers to the Branch Society. So says the Chronicle of Norfolk in its report.” The actual paragraph read:
“It will doubtless afford satisfaction to the Christian public to learn that many poor individuals in this neighbourhood, who previous to attending this meeting were averse to the cause or indifferent to it, had their feelings so aroused by what was communicated to them, that they have since voluntarily subscribed to the Bible Society, actuated by the hope of becoming humbly instrumental in extending the dominion of the true light, and of circumscribing the domains of darkness and of Satan.”
On returning to the quiet of the old Cathedral city, Borrow had an opportunity of resting and meditating upon the events of the last two years; but he soon became restless and tired of inaction. {150a} “I am weary of doing nothing, and am sighing for employment,” {150b} he wrote. He had impatiently awaited some word from Earl Street, where, seemingly, he had discussed various plans for the future, including a journey to Portugal and Spain, as well as the printing in Armenian of an edition of the New Testament. Hearing nothing from Mr Jowett, he wrote begging to be excused for reminding him that he was ready to undertake any task that might be allotted to him.
On the day following, he received a letter from Mr Brandram telling of how a resolution had been passed that he should go to Portugal. Then the writer’s heart misgave him. In his mind’s eye he saw Borrow set down at Oporto. What would he do? Fearful that the door was not sufficiently open to justify the step, he had suggested the suspension of the resolution. Borrow was asked what he himself thought. What did he think of China, and could he foresee any prospect for the distribution of the Scriptures there? “Favour us with your thoughts,” Mr Brandram wrote. “Experimental agency in a Society like ours is a formidable undertaking.” Borrow replied the same day, {150c}
“As you ask me to favour you with my thoughts, I certainly will; for I have thought much upon the matters in question, and the result I will communicate to you in a very few words. I decidedly approve (and so do all the religious friends whom I have communicated it to) of the plan of a journey to Portugal, and am sorry that it has been suspended, though I am convinced that your own benevolent and excellent heart was the cause, unwilling to fling me into an undertaking which you supposed might be attended with peril and difficulty. Therefore I wish it to be clearly understood that I am perfectly willing to undertake the expedition, nay, to extend it into Spain, to visit the town and country, to discourse with the people, especially those connected with institutions for infantine education, and to learn what ways and opportunities present themselves for conveying the Gospel into those benighted countries. I will moreover undertake, with the blessing of God, to draw up a small volume of what I shall have seen and heard there, which cannot fail to be interesting, and if patronised by the Society will probably help to cover the expenses of the expedition. On my return I can commence the Armenian Testament, and whilst I am editing that, I may be acquiring much vulgar Chinese from some unemployed Lascar or stray Cantonman whom I may pick up upon the wharves, and then . . . to China. I have no more to say, for were I to pen twenty pages, and I have time enough for so doing, I could communicate nothing which would make my views more clear.”
The earnestness of this letter seems effectually to have dissipated Mr Brandram’s scruples, for events moved forward with astonishing rapidity. Four days after the receipt of Borrow’s letter, a resolution was adopted by the Committee to the following effect:-
“That Mr Borrow be requested to proceed forthwith to Lisbon and Oporto for the purpose of visiting the Society’s correspondents there, and of making further enquiries respecting the means and channels which may offer for promoting the circulation of the Holy Scriptures in Portugal.” {151a}
Mr Brandram gave Borrow two letters of introduction, one to John Wilby, a merchant at Lisbon, and the other to the British Chaplain, the Rev. E. Whiteley. Having explained to Mr Whiteley how Borrow had recently been eventually going to employed in St Petersburg in editing the Manchu New Testament, he wrote:-
“We have some prospect of his China; but having proved by experience that he possesses an order of talent remarkably suited to the purposes of our Society, we have felt unwilling to interrupt our connection with him with the termination of his engagement at St Petersburg. In the interval we have thought that he might advantageously visit Portugal, and strengthen your hands and those of other friends, and see whether he could not extend the promising opening at present existing. He has no specific instructions, though he is enjoined to confer very fully with yourself and Mr Wilby of Lisbon.
“I have mentioned his recent occupation at St Petersburg, and you may perhaps think that there is little affinity between it and his present visit to Portugal. But Mr Borrow possesses no little tact in addressing himself to anything. With Portugal he is already acquainted, and speaks the language. He proposes visiting several of the principal cities and towns . . .
“Our correspondence about Spain is at this moment singularly interesting, and if it continues so, and the way seems to open, Mr Borrow will cross the frontier and go and enquire what can be done there. We believe him to be one who is endowed with no small portion of address and a spirit of enterprise. I recommend him to your kind attentions, and I anticipate your thanks for so doing, after you shall have become acquainted with him. Do not, however, be too hasty in forming your judgment.”
This letter outlines very clearly what was in the minds of the Committee in sending Borrow to Portugal. He was to spy out the land and advise the home authorities in what direction he would be most likely to prove useful. He was in particular to direct his attention to schools, and was “authorised to be liberal in GIVING New Testaments.” Furthermore, he was to be permitted to draw upon the Society’s agents to the extent of one hundred pounds.
The most significant part of this letter is the passage relating to China. It leaves no doubt that Borrow’s reiterated requests to be employed in distributing the Manchu New Testament had appealed most strongly to the General Committee. Mr Brandram was evidently in doubt as to how Borrow would strike his correspondent as an agent of the Bible Society, hence his warning against a hasty judgment. Apparently this letter was never presented, as it was found among Borrow’s papers, and Mr Whiteley had to form his opinion entirely unaided.
On 6th November Borrow sailed from the Thames for Lisbon in the steamship London Merchant. The voyage was fair for the time of year, and was marked only by the tragic occurrence of a sailor falling from the cross-trees into the sea and being drowned. The man had dreamed his fate a few minutes previously, and had told Borrow of the circumstances on coming up from below. {153a}
Borrow had scarcely been in Lisbon an hour before he heartily wished himself “back in Russia . . . where I had left cherished friends and warm affections.” The Customs-house officers irritated him, first with their dilatoriness, then by the minuteness with which they examined every article of which he was possessed. Again, there was the difficulty of obtaining a suitable lodging, which when eventually found proved to be “dark, dirty and exceedingly expensive without attendance.” Mr Wilby was in the country and not expected to return for a week. It would also appear that the British Chaplain was likewise away. Thus Borrow found himself with no one to advise him as to the first step he should take. This in itself was no very great drawback; but he felt very much a stranger in a city that struck him as detestable.
Determined to commence operations according to the dictates of his own judgment, he first engaged a Portuguese servant that he might have ample opportunities of perfecting himself in the language. He was fortunate in his selection, for Antonio turned out an excellent fellow, who “always served me with the greatest fidelity, and . . . exhibited an assiduity and a wish to please which afforded me the utmost satisfaction.” {154a}
When Borrow arrived in Portugal, it was to find it gasping and dazed by eight years of civil war (1826-1834). In 1807, when Junot invaded the country, the Royal House of Braganza had sailed for Brazil. In 1816 Dom Joao succeeded to the thrones of Brazil and Portugal, and six years later he arrived in Portugal, leaving behind him as Viceroy his son Dom Pedro, who promptly declared himself Emperor of Brazil. Dom Joao died in 1826, leaving, in addition to the self-styled Emperor of Brazil, another son, Miguel. Dom Pedro relinquished his claim to the throne of Portugal in favour of his seven years old daughter, Maria da Gloria, whose right was contested by her uncle Dom Miguel. In 1834 Dom Miguel resigned his imaginary rights to the throne by the Convention of Evora, and departed from the country that for eight years had been at war with itself, and for seven with a foreign invader.
Borrow proceeded to acquaint himself with the state of affairs in Lisbon and the surrounding country, that he might transmit a full account to the Bible Society. He visited every part of the city, losing no opportunity of entering into conversation with anyone with whom he came in contact. The people he found indifferent to religion, the lower orders in particular. They laughed in his face when he enquired if ever they confessed themselves, and a muleteer on being asked if he reverenced the cross, “instantly flew into a rage, stamped violently, and, spitting on the ground, said it was a piece of stone, and that he should have no more objection to spit upon it than the stones on which he trod.” {154b}
Many of the people could read, as they proved when asked to do so from the Portuguese New Testament; but of all those whom he addressed none appeared to have read the Scriptures, or to know anything of what they contain.
After spending four or five days at Lisbon, Borrow, accompanied by Antonio, proceeded to Cintra. {155a} Here he pursued the same method, also visiting the schools and enquiring into the nature of the religious instruction. During his stay of four days, he “traversed the country in all directions, riding into the fields, where I saw the peasants at work, and entering into discourse with them, and notwithstanding many of my questions must have appeared to them very singular, I never experienced any incivility, though they frequently answered me with smiles and laughter.” {155b}
From Cintra he proceeded on horseback to Mafra, a large village some three leagues distant. Everywhere he subjected the inhabitants to a searching cross-examination, laying bare their minds upon religious matters, experiencing surprise at the “free and unembarrassed manner in which the Portuguese peasantry sustain a conversation, and the purity of the language in which they express their thoughts,” {155c} although few could read or write.
On the return journey from Mafra to Cintra he nearly lost his life, owing to the girth of his saddle breaking during his horse’s exertions in climbing a hill. Borrow was cast violently to the ground; but fortunately on the right side, otherwise he would in all probability have been bruised to death by tumbling down the steep hill-side. As it was, he was dazed, and felt the effects of his mishap for several days.
On his return to Lisbon, Borrow found that Mr Wilby was back, and he had many opportunities of taking counsel with him as to the best means to be adopted to further the Society’s ends. He learned that four hundred copies of the Bible and the New Testament had arrived, and it was decided to begin operations at once. Mr Wilby recommended the booksellers as the best medium of distribution; but Borrow urged strongly that at least half of the available copies “should be entrusted to colporteurs,” who were to receive a commission upon every copy sold. To this Mr Wilby agreed, provided the operations of the colporteurs were restricted to Lisbon, as there was considerable danger in the country, where the priests were very powerful and might urge the people to mishandle, or even assassinate, the bearers of the Word.
By nature Borrow was not addicted to half measures. His whole record as an agent of the Bible Society was of a series of determined onslaughts upon the obstacles animate and inanimate, that beset his path. Sometimes he took away the breath of his adversaries by the very vigour of his attack, and, like the old Northern leaders, whose deeds he wished to give to an uneager world in translated verse, he faced great dangers and achieved great ends. Recognising that the darkest region is most in need of light, he enquired of Mr Wilby in what province of Portugal were to be found the most ignorant and benighted people, and on being told the Alemtejo (the other side of the Tagus), he immediately announced his intention of making a journey through it, in order to discover how dense spiritual gloom could really be in an ostensibly Christian country.
The Alemtejo was an unprepossessing country, consisting for the most part of “heaths, broken by knolls and gloomy dingles, swamps and forests of stunted pine,” with but few hills and mountains. The place was infested with banditti, and robberies, accompanied by horrible murders, were of constant occurrence. On 6th December, accompanied by his servant Antonio, Borrow set out for Evora, the principal town, formerly a seat of the dreaded Inquisition, which lies about sixty miles east of Lisbon. After many adventures, which he himself has narrated, including a dangerous crossing of the Tagus, and a meeting with Dom Geronimo Joze d’Azveto, secretary to the government of Evora, Borrow arrived at his destination, having spent two nights on the road. During the journey he had been constantly mindful of his mission; beside the embers of a bandit’s fire he left a New Testament, and the huts that mark the spot where Dom Pedro and Dom Miguel met, he sweetened with some of the precious little tracts.”
He had brought with him to Evora twenty Testaments and two Bibles, half of which he left with an enlightened shopkeeper, to whom he had a letter of introduction. The other half he subsequently bestowed upon Dom Geronimo, who proved to be a man of great earnestness, deeply conscious of his countrymen’s ignorance of true Christianity. Each day during his stay at Evora, Borrow spent two hours beside the fountain where the cattle were watered, entering into conversation with all who approached, the result being that before he left the town, he had spoken to “about two hundred . . of the children of Portugal upon matters connected with their eternal welfare.” Sometimes his hearers would ask for proofs of his statements that they were not Christians, being ignorant of Christ and his teaching, and that the Pope was Satan’s prime minister. He invariably replied by calling attention to their own ignorance of the Scripture, for if the priests were in reality Christ’s ministers, why had they kept from their flocks the words of their Master?
When not engaged at the fountain, Borrow rode about the neighbourhood distributing tracts. Fearful lest the people might refuse them if offered by his own hand, he dropped them in their favourite walks, in the hope that they would be picked up out of curiosity. He caused the daughter of the landlady of the inn at which he stopped to burn a copy of Volney’s Ruins of Empire, because the author was an “emissary of Satan,” the girl standing by telling her beads until the book were entirely consumed.
Borrow had been greatly handicapped through the lack of letters of introduction to influential people in Portugal. He wrote, therefore, to Dr Bowring, now M.P. for Kilmarnock, telling him of his wanderings among the rustics and banditti of Portugal, with whom he had become very popular; but, he continues:
“As it is much more easy to introduce oneself to the cottage than the hall (though I am not utterly unknown in the latter), I want you to give or procure me letters to the most liberal and influential minds in Portugal. I likewise want a letter from the Foreign Office to Lord [Howard] de Walden. In a word, I want to make what interest I can towards obtaining the admission of the Gospel of Jesus into the public schools of Portugal, which are about to be established. I beg leave to state that this is MY PLAN and no other person’s, as I was merely sent over to Portugal to observe the disposition of the people, therefore I do not wish to be named as an Agent of the B.S., but as a person who has plans for the mental improvement of the Portuguese; should I receive THESE LETTERS within the space of six weeks it will be time enough, for before setting up my machine in Portugal, I wish to lay the foundations of something similar in Spain.”
P.S.–“I start for Spain to-morrow, and I want letters something similar (there is impudence for you) for Madrid, WHICH I SHOULD LIKE TO HAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I do not much care at present for an introduction to the Ambassador at Madrid, as I shall not commence operations seriously in Spain until I have disposed of Portugal. I will not apologise for writing to you in this manner, for you know me, but I will tell you one thing, which is, that the letter which you procured for me, on my going to St Petersburg, from Lord Palmerston, assisted me wonderfully; I called twice at your domicile on my return; the first time you were in Scotland–the second in France, and I assure you I cried with vexation. Remember me to Mrs Bowring, and God bless you.” {159a}
In this letter Borrow gives another illustration of his shrewdness. He saw clearly the disadvantage of appealing for assistance as an agent of the Bible Society, a Protestant institution which was anathema in a Roman Catholic country, whereas if he posed merely as “a gentleman who has plans for the mental improvement of the Portuguese,” he could enlist the sympathetic interest of any and every broad-minded Portuguese mindful of his country’s intellectual gloom. In response to this request Dr Bowring, writing from Brussels, sent two letters of introduction, one each for Lisbon and Madrid.
After remaining at Evora for a week (8th to 17th December) Borrow returned to Lisbon, thoroughly satisfied with the results of his journey. The next fortnight he spent in a further examination of Lisbon, and becoming acquainted with the Jews of the city, by whom he was welcomed as a powerful rabbi. He favoured the mistake, with the result that in a few days he “knew all that related to them and their traffic in Lisbon.” {159b}
Borrow’s methods seem to have impressed Earl Street most favourably. In a letter of acknowledgment Mr Brandram wrote:-
“We have been much interested by your two communications. {159c} They are both very painful in their details, and you develop a truly awful state of things. You are probing the wound, and I hope preparing the way for our pouring in by and by the healing balsam of the Scripture. We shall be anxious to hear from you again. We often think of you in your wanderings. We like your way of communicating with the people, meeting them in their own walks.”
Thoroughly convinced as to the irreligious state of Portugal, Borrow determined to set out for Spain, in order that he might examine into the condition of the people, and report to the Bible Society their state of preparedness to receive the Scriptures. On the afternoon of 1st January 1836 he set out, bound for Badajos, a hundred miles south of Lisbon. From Badajos he intended to take the diligence on to Madrid, which he decided to make his headquarters.
Having taken leave of his servant Antonio (who had accompanied him as far as Aldea Gallega) almost with tears, Borrow mounted a hired mule, and with no other companion than an idiot lad, who, when spoken to, made reply only with an uncouth laugh, he plunged once more into the dangerous and desolate Alemtejo on a four days’ journey “over the most savage and ill-noted track in the whole kingdom.” At first he was overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, and experienced a great desire for someone with whom to talk. There was no one to be seen– he was hemmed in by desolation and despair.
At Montemor Novo Borrow appears in a new light when he kisses his hand repeatedly to the tittering nuns who, with “dusky faces and black waving hair,” {160a} strove to obtain a glance of the stranger who, a few minutes previously, had dared to tell one of their number that he had come “to endeavour to introduce the gospel of Christ into a country where it is not known.” {160b}
One adventure befel him that might have ended in tragedy. Soon after leaving Arrayolos he overtook a string of carts conveying ammunition into Spain. One of the Portuguese soldiers of the guard began to curse foreigners in general and Borrow, whom he mistook for a Frenchmen, in particular, because “the devil helps foreigners and hates the Portuguese.” When about forty yards ahead of the advance guard, with which the discontented soldier marched, Borrow had the imprudence to laugh, with the result that the next moment two well- aimed bullets sang past his ears. Taking the hint, Borrow put spurs to his mule, and, followed by the terrified guide, soon outdistanced these official banditti. With great naivete he remarks, “Oh, may I live to see the day when soldiery will no longer be tolerated in any civilised, or at least Christian country!” {161a}
For two and a half days the idiot guide had met Borrow’s most dexterous cross-examination with a determined silence; but on reaching a hill overlooking Estremoz he suddenly found tongue, and, in an epic of inspiration, told of the wonderful hunting that was to be obtained on the Serre Dorso, the Alemtejo’s finest mountain. “He likewise described with great minuteness a wonderful dog, which was kept in the neighbourhood for the purpose of catching the wolves and wild boars, and for which the proprietor had refused twenty moidores.” {161b} From this it would appear that the idiocy of the guide was an armour to be assumed at will by one who preferred the sweetness of his own thoughts to the cross-questionings of his master’s clients.
At Elvas, which he reached on 5th January, Borrow showed very strongly one rather paradoxical side of his character. Never backward in his dispraise of Englishmen and things English, in particular those responsible for the administration of the nation’s affairs, past and present, he demonstrated very clearly, in his expressions of indignation at the Portuguese attitude towards England, that he reserved this right of criticism strictly to himself. At the inn where he stayed, he thoroughly discomfited a Portuguese officer who dared to criticise the English Government for its attitude in connection with the Spanish civil war. When refused entrance to the fort, where he had gone in order to satisfy his curiosity, Borrow exclaims, “This is one of the beneficial results of protecting a nation, and squandering blood and treasure in its defence.” {162a}
Borrow was essentially an Englishman and proud of his blood, prouder perhaps of that which came to him from Norfolk, {162b} and although permitting himself and his fellow-countrymen considerable license in the matter of caustic criticism of public men and things, there the matter must end. Let a foreigner, a Portuguese, dare to say a word against his, Borrow’s, country, and he became subjected to either a biting cross-examination, or was denounced in eloquent and telling periods. “I could not command myself,” he writes in extenuation of his unchristian conduct in discomfiting the officer at Elvas, “when I heard my own glorious land traduced in this unmerited manner. By whom? A Portuguese? A native of a country which has been twice liberated from horrid and detestable thraldom by the hands of Englishmen.” {162c}
On 6th January 1836, {162d} having sent back the “idiot” guide with the two mules, Borrow “spurred down the hill of Elvas to the plain, eager to arrive in old, chivalrous, romantic Spain,” and having forded the stream that separates the two countries, he crossed the bridge over the Guadiana and entered the North Gate of Badajos, immortalised by Wellington and the British Army. He had reached Spain “in the humble hope of being able to cleanse some of the foul stains of Popery from the minds of its children.” {162e}
CHAPTER XI: JANUARY-OCTOBER 1836
When Borrow entered Spain she was in the throes of civil war. In 1814 British blood and British money had restored to the throne Ferdinand VII., who, immediately he found himself secure, and forgetting his pledges to govern constitutionally, dissolved the Cortes and became an absolute monarch. All the old abuses were revived, including the re-establishment of the Inquisition. For six years the people suffered their King’s tyranny, then they revolted, with the result that Ferdinand, bending to the wind, accepted a re- imposition of the Constitution. In 1823 a French Army occupied Madrid in support of Ferdinand, who promptly reverted to absolutism.
In 1829 Ferdinand married for the fourth time, and, on the birth of a daughter, declared that the Salic law had no effect in Spain, and the young princess was recognised as heir-apparent to the throne. This drew from his brother, Don Carlos, who immediately left the country, a protest against his exclusion from the succession. When his daughter was four years of age, Ferdinand died, and the child was proclaimed Queen as Isabel II.
A bitter war broke out between the respective adherents of the Queen and her uncle Don Carlos. Prisoners and wounded were massacred without discrimination, and an uncivilised and barbarous warfare waged when Borrow crossed the Portuguese frontier “to undertake the adventure of Spain.”
Spain had always appealed most strongly to Borrow’s imagination.
“In the day-dreams of my boyhood,” he writes, “Spain always bore a considerable share, and I took a particular interest in her, without any presentiment that I should, at a future time, be called upon to take a part, however humble, in her strange dramas; which interest, at a very early period, led me to acquire her noble language, and to make myself acquainted with the literature (scarcely worthy of the language), her history and traditions; so that when I entered Spain for the first time I felt more at home than I should otherwise have done.” {164a}
Whilst standing at the door of the Inn of the Three Nations on the day following his arrival at Badajos, meditating upon the deplorable state of the country he had just entered, Borrow recognised in the face of one of two men who were about to pass him the unmistakable lineaments of Egypt. Uttering “a certain word,” he received the reply he expected and forthwith engaged in conversation with the two men, who both proved to be gypsies. These men spread the news abroad that staying at the Inn of the Three Nations was a man who spoke Romany. “In less than half an hour the street before the inn was filled with the men, women, and children of Egypt.” Borrow went out amongst them, and confesses that “so much vileness, dirt, and misery I had never seen among a similar number of human beings; but worst of all was the evil expression of their countenances.” {164b} He soon discovered that their faces were an accurate index to their hearts, which were capable of every species of villainy. The gypsies clustered round him, fingering his hands, face and clothes, as if he were a holy man.
Gypsies had always held for Borrow a strange attraction, {164c} and he determined to prolong his stay at Badajos in order that he might have an opportunity of becoming “better acquainted with their condition and manners, and above all to speak to them of Christ and His Word; for I was convinced, that should I travel to the end of the universe, I should meet with no people more in need of a little Christian exhortation.” {165a}
Intimate though his acquaintance with the gypsies of other countries had been, Borrow was aghast at the depravity of those of Spain. The men were drunkards, brigands, and murderers; the women unchaste, and inveterate thieves. Their language was terrifying in its foulness. They seemed to have no religion save a misty glimmering of metempsychosis, which had come down to them through the centuries, and having been very wicked in this world they asked, with some show of reason, why they should live again. They were incorrigible heathens, keenly interested in the demonstration that their language was capable of being written and read, but untouched by the parables of Lazarus or the Prodigal Son, which Borrow read and expounded to them. “Brother,” exclaimed one woman, “you tell us strange things, though perhaps you do not lie; a month since I would sooner have believed these tales, than that this day I should see one who could read Romany.” {165b}
Neither by exhortation nor by translating into Romany a portion of the Gospel of St Luke could Borrow make any impression upon the minds of the gypsies, therefore when one of them, Antonio by name, announced that “the affairs of Egypt” called for his presence “on the frontiers of Costumbra,” and that he and Borrow might as well journey thus far together, he decided to avail himself of the opportunity. It was arranged that Borrow’s luggage should be sent on ahead, for, as Antonio said, “How the Busne [the Spaniards] on the road would laugh if they saw two Cales [Gypsies] with luggage behind them.” {166a} Thus it came about that an agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society, mounted upon a most uncouth horse “of a spectral white, short in the body, but with remarkably long legs” and high in the withers, set out from Badajos on 16th January 1836, escorted by a smuggler astride a mule; for the affairs of Egypt on this occasion were the evasion of the Customs dues.
Towards evening on the first day the curiously assorted pair arrived at Merida, and proceeded to a large and ruinous house, a portion of which was occupied by some connections of the gypsy Antonio’s. In the large hall of the old mansion they camped, and here, acting on the gypsy’s advice, Borrow remained for three days. Antonio himself was absent from early morning until late at night, occupied with his own affairs. {166b}
The fourth night was spent in the forest by the campfire of some more of Antonio’s friends. On one occasion, but for the fortunate possession of a passport, the affairs of Egypt would have involved Borrow in some difficulties with the authorities. At another time, for safety’s sake, he had to part from Antonio and proceed on his way alone, picking up the contrabandista further on the road.
When some distance beyond Jaraicejo, it was discovered that the affairs of Egypt had ended disastrously in the discomfiture and capture of Antonio’s friends by the authorities. The news was brought by the gypsy’s daughter. Antonio must return at once, and as the steed Borrow was riding, which belonged to Antonio, would be required by him, Borrow purchased the daughter’s donkey, and having said good-bye to the smuggler, he continued his journey alone.
By way of Almaraz and Oropesa Borrow eventually reached Talavera (24th Jan.). On the advice of a Toledo Jew, with whom he had become acquainted during the last stage of his journey, he decided to take the diligence from Talavera to Madrid, the more willingly because the Jew amiably offered to purchase the donkey. On the evening of 25th Jan. Borrow accordingly took his place on the diligence, and reached the capital the next morning.
On arriving at Madrid, Borrow first went to a Posada; but a few days later he removed to lodgings in the Calle de la Zarza (the Street of the Brambles),–“A dark and dirty street, which, however, was close to the Puerta del Sol, the most central point of Madrid, into which four or five of the principal streets debouche, and which is, at all times of the year, the great place of assemblage for the idlers of the capital, poor or rich.” {167a}
The capital did not at first impress Borrow very favourably. {167b} “Madrid is a small town,” he wrote to his mother, {167c} “not larger than Norwich, but it is crammed with people, like a hive with bees, and it contains many fine streets and fountains . . . Everything in Madrid is excessively dear to foreigners, for they are made to pay six times more than natives . . . I manage to get on tolerably well, for I make a point of paying just one quarter of what I am asked.”
He suffered considerably from the frost and cold. From the snow- covered mountains that surround the city there descend in winter such cold blasts “that the body is drawn up like a leaf.” {167d} Then again there were the physical discomforts that he had to endure.
“You cannot think,” he wrote, {168a} “what a filthy, uncivilised set of people the Spanish and Portuguese are. There is more comfort in an English barn than in one of their palaces; and they are rude and ill-bred to a surprising degree.”
Borrow was angry with Spain, possibly for being so unlike his “dear and glorious Russia.” He saw in it a fertile and beautiful country, inhabited by a set of beings that were not human, “almost as bad as the Irish, with the exception that they are not drunkards.” {168b} They were a nation of thieves and extortioners, who regarded the foreigner as their legitimate prey. Even his own servant was “the greatest thief and villain that ever existed; who, if I would let him, would steal the teeth out of my head,” {168c} and who seems actually to have destroyed some of his master’s letters for the sake of the postage. Being forced to call upon various people whose addresses he did not know, Borrow found it necessary to keep the man, in spite of his thievish proclivities, for he was clever, and had he been dismissed his place would, in all probability, have been taken by an even greater rogue.
At night he never went out, for the streets were thronged with hundreds of people of the rival factions, bent on “cutting and murdering one another; . . . for every Spaniard is by nature a cruel, cowardly tiger. Nothing is more common than to destroy a whole town, putting man, woman, and child to death, because two or three of the inhabitants have been obnoxious.” {168d} Thus he wrote to his mother, all-unconscious of the anxiety and alarm that he was causing her lest he, her dear George, should be one of the cut or murdered.
Later, Borrow seems to have revised his opinion of Madrid and of its inhabitants. He confesses that of all the cities he has known Madrid interested him the most, not on account of its public buildings, squares or fountains, for these are surpassed in other cities; but because of its population. “Within a mud wall scarcely one league and a half in circuit, are contained two hundred thousand human beings, certainly forming the most extraordinary vital mass to be found in the entire world.” {169a} In the upper classes he had little interest. He mixed but little with them, and what he saw did not impress him favourably. It was the Spaniard of the lower orders that attracted him. He regarded this class as composed not of common beings, but of extraordinary men. He admired their spirit of proud independence, and forgave them their ignorance. His first impressions of Spain had been unfavourable because, as a stranger, he had been victimised by the amiable citizens, who were merely doing as their fathers had done before them. Once, however, he got to know them, he regarded with more indulgence their constitutional dishonesty towards the stranger, a weakness they possessed in common with the gypsies, and hailed them as “extraordinary men.” Borrow’s impulsiveness frequently led him to ill-considered and hasty conclusions, which, however, he never hesitated to correct, if he saw need for correction.
The disappointment he experienced as regards Madrid and the Spaniards is not difficult to understand. He arrived quite friendless and without letters of introduction, to find the city given over to the dissensions and strifes of the supporters of Isabel II. and Don Carlos. His journey had been undertaken in “the hope of obtaining permission from the Government to print the New Testament in the Castilian language, without the notes insisted on by the Spanish clergy, for circulation in Spain,” and there seemed small chance of those responsible for the direction of affairs listening to the application of a foreigner for permission to print the unannotated Scriptures. For one thing, any acquiescence in such a suggestion would draw forth from the priesthood bitter reproaches and, most probably, active and serious opposition. It is only natural that despondency should occasionally seize upon him who sought to light the lamp of truth amidst such tempests.
The man to approach was the premier, Juan Alvarez y Mendizabal, {170a} a Christianised Jew. He was enormously powerful, and Borrow decided to appeal to him direct; for, armed with the approval of Mendizabal, no one would dare to interfere with his plans or proceedings. Borrow made several attempts to see Mendizabal, who “was considered as a man of almost unbounded power, in whose hands were placed the destinies of the country.” Without interest or letters of introduction, he found it utterly impossible to obtain an audience. Recollecting the assistance he had received from the Hon. J. D. Bligh at St Petersburg, Borrow determined to make himself known to the British Minister at Madrid, the Hon. George Villiers, {170b} and, “with the freedom permitted to a British subject . . . ask his advice in the affair.” Borrow was received with great kindness, and, after conversing upon various topics for some time, he introduced the subject of his visit. Mr Villiers willingly undertook to help him as far as lay in his power, and promised to endeavour to procure for him an audience with the Premier. In this he was successful, and Borrow had an interview with Mendizabal, who was almost inaccessible to all but the few.
At eight o’clock on the morning of 7th February Borrow presented himself at the palace, where Mendizabal resided, and after waiting for about three hours, was admitted to the presence of the Prime Minister of Spain, whom he found–“A huge athletic man, somewhat taller than myself, who measure six foot two without my shoes. His complexion was florid, his features fine and regular, his nose quite aquiline, and his teeth splendidly white; though scarcely fifty years of age, his hair was remarkably grey. He was dressed in a rich morning gown, with a gold chain round his neck, and morocco slippers on his feet.” {171a}
Borrow began by assuring Mendizabal that he was labouring under a grave error in thinking that the Bible Society had sought to influence unduly the slaves of Cuba, that they had not sent any agents there, and they were not in communication with any of the residents. Mr Villiers had warned Borrow that the premier was very angry on account of reports that had reached him of the action in Cuba of certain people whom he insisted were sent there by the Bible Society. In vain Borrow suggested that the disturbers of the tranquillity of Spain’s beneficent rule in the Island were in no way connected with Earl Street; he was several times interrupted by Mendizabal, who insisted that he had documentary proof. Borrow with difficulty restrained himself from laughing in the premier s face. He pointed out that the Committee was composed of quiet, respectable English gentlemen, who attended to their own concerns and gave a little of their time to the affairs of the Bible Society.
On Borrow asking for permission to print at Madrid the New Testament in Spanish without notes, he was met with an unequivocal refusal. In spite of his arguments that the whole tenor of the work was against bloodshedding and violence, he could not shake the premier’s opinion that it was “an improper book.”
At first Borrow had experienced some difficulty in explaining himself, on account of the Spaniard’s habit of persistent interruption, and at last he was forced in self-defence to hold on in spite of Mendizabal’s remarks. The upshot of the interview was that he was told to renew his application when the Carlists had been beaten and the country was at peace. Borrow then asked permission to introduce into Spain a few copies of the New Testament in the Catalan dialect, but was refused. He next requested to be allowed to call on the following day and submit a copy of the Catalan edition, and received the remarkable reply that the prime-minister refused his offer to call lest he should succeed in convincing him, and Mendizabal did not wish to be convinced. This seemed to show that the Mendizabal was something of a philosopher and a little of a humorist.
With this Borrow had to be content, and after an hour’s interview he withdrew. The premier was unquestionably in a difficult position. On the one hand, he no doubt desired to assist a man introduced to him by the representative of Great Britain, to whom he looked for assistance in suppressing Carlism; on the other hand, he had the priesthood to consider, and they would without question use every means of which they stood possessed to preserve the prohibition against the dissemination of the Scriptures, without notes, a prohibition that had become almost a tradition.
But Borrow was not discouraged. He wrote in a most hopeful strain that he foresaw the speedy and successful termination of the Society’s negotiations in the Peninsula. He looked forward to the time when only an agent would be required to superintend the engagement of colporteurs, and to make arrangements with the booksellers. He proceeds to express a hope that his exertions have given satisfaction to the Society.
Borrow received an encouraging letter from Mr Brandram, telling him of the Committee’s appreciation of his work, but practically leaving with him the decision as to his future movements. They were inclined to favour a return to Lisbon, but recognised that “in these wondrous days opportunities may open unexpectedly.” In the matter of the Gospel of St Luke in Spanish Romany, the publication of extracts was authorised, but there was no enthusiasm for the project. “We say,” wrote Mr Brandram, “festina lente. You will be doing well to occupy leisure hours with this work; but we are not prepared for printing anything beyond portions at present.”
In the meantime, however, an article in the Madrid newspaper, El Espanol, upon the history, aims, and achievements of the British and Foreign Bible Society, had determined Borrow to remain on at Madrid for a few weeks at least.
“Why should Spain, which has explored the New World, why should she alone be destitute of Bible Societies,” asked the Espanol. “Why should a nation eminently Catholic continue isolated from the rest of Europe, without joining in the magnificent enterprise in which the latter is so busily engaged?” {173a}
This article fired Borrow, and with the promise of assistance from the liberal-minded Espanol, he set to work “to lay the foundation of a Bible Society at Madrid.” {173b} As a potential head of the Spanish organization, Borrow’s eyes were already directed towards the person of “a certain Bishop, advanced in years, a person of great piety and learning, who has himself translated the New Testament” {173c} and who was disposed to print and circulate it.
Nothing, however, came of the project. Mr Brandram wrote to Borrow:- “With regard to forming a Bible Society in Madrid, and appointing Dr Usoz Secretary, it is so out of our usual course that the Committee, for various reasons, cannot comply with your wishes–of the desirableness of forming such a Society at present, you and your friend must be the best judges. If it is to be an independent society, as I suppose must be the case,” Mr Brandram continues, and the Bible Society’s aid or that of its agent is sought, the new Society must be formed on the principles of the British and Foreign Bible Society, admitting, “on the one hand, general cooperation, and on the other, that it does not circulate Apocryphal Bibles.” There was doubt at Earl Street as to whether the time was yet ripe; so the decision was very properly left with Borrow, and he was told that he “need not fear to hold out great hopes of encouragement in the event of the formation of such a Society.” {174a}
A serious difficulty now arose in the resignation of Mendizabal (March 1836). Two of his friends and supporters, in the persons of Francisco de Isturitz and Alcala Galiano, seceded from his party, and, under the name of moderados, formed an opposition to their Chief in the Cortes. They had the support of the Queen Regent and General Cordova, whom Mendizabal had wished to remove from his position as head of the army on account of his great popularity with the soldiers, whose comforts and interests he studied. Isturitz became Premier, Galiano Minister of Marine (a mere paper title, as there was no navy at the time), and the Duke of Rivas Minister of the Interior.
Conscious of the advantage of possessing powerful friends, especially in a country such as Spain, Borrow had used every endeavour to enlarge the circle of his acquaintance among men occupying influential positions, or likely to succeed those who at present filled them. The result was that he was able to announce to Mr Brandram that the new ministry, which had been formed, was composed “entirely of MY friends.” {175a} With Galiano in particular he was on very intimate terms. Everything promised well, and the new Cabinet showed itself most friendly to Borrow and his projects, until the actual moment arrived for writing the permission to print the Scriptures in Spanish. Then doubts arose, and the decrees of the Council of Trent loomed up, a threatening barrier, in the eyes of the Duke of Rivas and his secretary.
So hopeful was Borrow after his first interview with the Duke that he wrote: –“I shall receive the permission, the Lord willing, in a few days . . . The last skirts of the cloud of papal superstition are vanishing below the horizon of Spain; whoever says the contrary either knows nothing of the matter or wilfully hides the truth.” {175b}
At Earl Street the good news about the article in the Espanol gave the liveliest satisfaction. “Surely a new and wonderful thing in Spain,” wrote Mr Brandram {175c} in a letter in which he urged Borrow to “guard against becoming too much committed to one political party,” and asked him to write more frequently, as his letters were always most welcome. This letter reached Madrid at a time when Borrow found himself absolutely destitute.
“For the last three weeks,” he writes, {175d} “I have been without money, literally without a farthing.” Everything in Madrid was so dear. A month previously he had been forced to pay 12 pounds, 5s. for a suit of clothes, “my own being so worn that it was impossible to appear longer in public with them.” {175e} He had written to Mr Wilby, but in all probability his letter had gone astray, the post to Estremadura having been three times robbed. “The money may still come,” he continues, {176a} “but I have given up all hopes of it, and I am compelled to write home, though what I am to do till I can receive your answer I am at a loss to conceive . . . whatever I undergo, I shall tell nobody of my situation, it might hurt the Society and our projects here. I know enough of the world to be aware that it is considered as the worst of crimes to be without money.” {176b}
For weeks Borrow devoted himself to the task of endeavouring to obtain permission to print the Scriptures in Spanish. The Duke of Rivas referred him to his secretary, saying, “He will do for you what you want!” But the secretary retreated behind the decrees of the Council of Trent. Then Mr Villiers intervened, saw the Duke and gave Borrow a letter to him. Again the Council of Trent proved to be the obstacle. Galiano took up the matter and escorted Borrow to the Bureau of the Interior, and had an interview with the Duke’s secretary. When Galiano left, there remained nothing for the conscientious secretary to do but to write out the formal permission, all else having been satisfactorily settled; but no sooner had Galiano departed, than the recollection of the Council of Trent returned to the secretary with terrifying distinctness, and no permission was given.
Tired of the Council of Trent and the Duke’s secretary, Borrow would sometimes retire to the banks of the canal and there loiter in the sun, watching the gold and silver fish basking on the surface of its waters, or gossiping with the man who sold oranges and water under the shade of the old water-tower. Once he went to see an execution– anything to drive from his mind the conscientious secretary and the Council of Trent, the sole obstacles to the realisation of his plans.
Borrow informed Mr Brandram at the end of May that the Cabinet was unanimously in favour of granting his request; nothing happened. There seems no doubt that the Cabinet’s policy was one of subterfuge. It could not afford to offend the British Minister, nor could it, at that juncture, risk the bitter hostility of the clergy, consequently it promised and deferred. A petition to the Ecclesiastical Committee of Censors, although strongly backed by the Civil Governor of Madrid (within whose department lay the censorship), produced no better result. There was nothing heard but “To-morrow, please God!”
Foiled for the time being in his constructive policy, Borrow turned his attention to one of destruction. He had already announced to the Bible Society that the authority of the Pope was in a precarious condition.
“Little more than a breath is required to destroy it,” he writes, {177a} “and I am almost confident that in less than a year it will be disowned. I am doing whatever I can in Madrid to prepare the way for an event so desirable. I mix with the people, and inform them who and what the Pope is, and how disastrous to Spain his influence has been. I tell them that the indulgences, which they are in the habit of purchasing, are of no more intrinsic value than so many pieces of paper, and were merely invented with the view of plundering them. I frequently ask: ‘Is it possible that God, who is good, would sanction the sale of sin? and, supposing certain things are sinful, do you think that God, for the sake of your money, would permit you to perform them?’ In many instances my hearers have been satisfied with this simple reasoning, and have said that they would buy no more indulgences.”
Mr Brandram promptly wrote warning Borrow against becoming involved in any endeavour to hasten the fall of the Pope. Although deeply interested in what their agent had to say, there was a strong misgiving at headquarters that for a few moments Borrow had “forgotten that our hopes of the fall of — are founded on the simple distribution of the Scriptures,” {178a} and he was told that, as their agent, he must not pursue the course that he described. The warning was carefully worded, so that it might not wound Borrow’s feelings or lessen his enthusiasm.
Borrow had found that the climate of Madrid did not agree with him. It had proved very trying during the winter; but now that summer had arrived the heat was suffocating and the air seemed to be filled with “flaming vapours,” and even the Spaniards would “lie gasping and naked upon their brick floors.” {178b} In spite of the heat, however, he was occupied “upon an average ten hours every day, dancing attendance on one or another of the Ministers.” {178c}
Sometimes the difficulties that he had to contend with reduced him almost to despair of ever obtaining the permission he sought. “Only those,” he writes, {178d} “who have been in the habit of dealing with Spaniards, by whom the most solemn promises are habitually broken, can form a correct idea of my reiterated disappointments, and of the toil of body and agony of spirit which I have been subjected to. One day I have been told, at the Ministry, that I had only to wait a few moments and all I wished would be acceded to; and then my hopes have been blasted with the information that various difficulties, which seemed insurmountable, had presented themselves, whereupon I have departed almost broken-hearted; but the next day I have been summoned in a great hurry and informed that ‘all was right,’ and that on the morrow a regular authority to print the Scriptures would be delivered to me, but by that time fresh and yet more terrible difficulties had occurred–so that I became weary of my life.”
Mr Villiers evidently saw through the Spanish Cabinet’s policy of delay; for he spoke to the ministers collectively and individually, strongly recommending that the petition be granted. He further pointed out the terrible condition of the people, who lacked religious instruction of any kind, and that a nation of atheists would not prove very easy to govern. It may have been these arguments, or, what is more likely, a desire on the part of the Cabinet to please the representative of Great Britain, in any case a greater willingness was now shown to give the necessary permission. Measures were accordingly taken to evade the law and protect the printer into whose hands the work was to be entrusted, until an appropriate moment arrived for repealing the existing statute.
Borrow forwarded to Earl Street the following interesting letter that he had received from Mr Villiers, which confirms his words as to the keen interest taken by the British Minister in the endeavour to obtain the permission to print the New Testament in Spanish
DEAR SIR,
I have had a long conversation with Mr Isturitz upon the subject of printing the Testament, in which he showed himself to be both sagacious and liberal. He assured me that the matter should have his support whenever the Duque de Ribas brought it before the Cabinet, and that as far as he was concerned the question MIGHT BE CONSIDERED AS SETTLED.
You are quite welcome to make any use you please of this note with the D. de Ribas or Mr Olivan. {179a}
I am, Dear Sir,
Yours faithfully,
GEORGE VILLIERS.
June 23rd [1836].
It was unquestionably Borrow’s personality that was responsible for Mr Villiers’ interest in the scheme, as when Lieutenant Graydon {179b} had applied to him on a previous occasion he declined to interfere.
At Borrow’s suggestion the President of the Bible Society, Lord Bentley, wrote to Mr Villiers thanking him for the services he had rendered in connection with the Spanish programme. It was characteristic of Borrow that he added to his letter as a reason for his request, that “I may be again in need of Mr V’s. assistance before I leave Spain.” {180a} Borrow was always keenly alive to the advantage of possessing influential friends who would be likely to assist him in his labours for the Society. He was not a profound admirer of the Society of Jesus for nothing, and although he would scorn to exercise tact in regard to his own concerns, he was fully prepared to make use of it in connection with those of the Bible Society. He was a Jesuit at heart, and would in all probability have preferred a good compositor who had been guilty of sacrilege to a bad one who had not. He saw that besides being something of a diplomatist, an agent of the Bible Society had also to be a good business man. He has been called tactless, until the word seems to have become permanently identified with his name; how unjustly is shown by a very hasty examination of his masterly diplomacy, both in Russia and Spain. Diplomacy, as Borrow understood it, was the art of being persuasive when persuasion would obtain for him his object, and firm, even threatening, when strong measures were best calculated to suit his ends. It is only the fool who defines tact as the gentle art of pleasing everybody. Diplomacy is the art of getting what you want at the expense of displeasing as few people as possible.
“The affair is settled–thank God!!! and we may begin to print whenever we think proper.” With these words Borrow announces the success of his enterprise. “Perhaps you have thought,” he continues, “that I have been tardy in accomplishing the business which brought me to Spain; but to be able to form a correct judgment you ought to be aware of all the difficulties which I have had to encounter, and which I shall not enumerate. I shall content myself with observing that for a thousand pounds I would not undergo again all the mortifications and disappointments of the last two months.” {181a}
There were moments when Borrow forgot the idiom of Earl Street and reverted to his old, self-confident style, which had so alarmed some of the excellent members of the Committee. He had achieved a great triumph, how great is best shown by the suggestion made by the prime minister that if determined to avail himself of the permission that had been obtained, he had better employ “the confidential printer of the Government, who would keep the matter secret; as in the present state of affairs he [the prime minister] would not answer for the consequences if it were noised abroad.” {181b} By giving the license to print the New Testament without notes, the Cabinet was assuming a very grave responsibility. All this shows how great was the influence of the British Minister upon the Isturitz Cabinet, and how considerable that of Borrow upon the British Minister.
Now that his object was gained, there was nothing further to keep Borrow in Spain, and he accordingly asked for instructions, suggesting that, as soon as the heats were over, Lieutenant Graydon might return to Madrid and take charge, “as nothing very difficult remains to be accomplished, and I am sure that Mr Villiers, at my entreaty, would extend to him the patronage with which he has honoured me.” {181c} In conclusion he announced himself as ready to do “whatever the Bible Society may deem expedient.” {181d}
Borrow now began to suffer from the reaction after his great exertions. He became so languid as scarcely to be able to hold a pen. He had no books, and conversation was impossible, for the heat had driven away all who could possibly escape, among them his acquaintances, and he frequently remembered with a sigh the happy days spent in St Petersburg.
A few days later (25th July) he wrote proposing as a member of the Bible Society Dr Luis de Usoz y Rio, “a person of great respectability and great learning.” {182a} Dr Usoz, who was subsequently to be closely associated with Borrow in his labours in Spain, was a man of whom he was unable to “speak in too high terms of admiration; he is one of the most learned men in Spain, and is become in every point a Christian according to the standard of the New Testament.” {182b}
Dr Usoz also addressed a letter to the Society asking to be considered as a correspondent and entrusted with copies of the Scriptures, which he was convinced he could circulate in every province of Spain. The advantage of having one of the editors of the principal newspaper of Spain on the side of the Society did not fail to appeal to Borrow. Dr Usoz not only became a member of the Bible Society, but earned from Borrow a splendid tribute in the Preface to The Bible in Spain.
Before advantage could be taken of the hardly earned permission to print the New Testament in Madrid, the Revolution of La Granja {182c} broke out, resulting in the proclamation of the Constitution of 1812, by which the press became free. In Madrid chaos reigned as a result. Borrow himself has given a vivid account of how Quesada, by his magnificent courage, quelled for the time being the revolution, how the ministers fled, how eventually the heroic tyrant was recognised and killed, and, finally, how, at a celebrated coffee-house in Madrid, Borrow saw the victorious Nationals drink to the Constitution from a bowl of coffee, which had first been stirred with one of the mutilated hands of the hated Quesada. {183a}
Now that no obstacle stood in the way of the printing of the Spanish New Testament, Borrow was requested to return to England that he might confer with the authorities at Earl Street. “You may now consider yourself under marching orders to return home as soon as you have made all the requisite arrangements; . . . you have done, we are persuaded, a good and great work,” {183b} Mr Brandram wrote. It was thought by the Committee that the advantages to be derived from a conference with Borrow would be well worth the expense involved in his having to return again to Spain.
To this request for his immediate presence in London Borrow replied:
“I shall make the provisional engagement as desired [as regards the printing of the New Testament] and shall leave Madrid as soon as possible; but I must here inform you, that I shall find much difficulty in returning to England, as all the provinces are disturbed in consequence of the Constitution of 1812 having been proclaimed, and the roads are swarming with robbers and banditti. It is my intention to join some muleteers, and attempt to reach Granada, from whence, if possible, I shall proceed to Malaga or Gibraltar, and thence to Lisbon, where I left the greatest part of my baggage. Do not be surprised, therefore, if I am tardy in making my appearance; it is no easy thing at present to travel in Spain. But all these troubles are for the benefit of the Cause, and must not be repined at.” {183c}
Leaving Madrid on 20th August, Borrow was at Granada on the 30th, as proved by the Visitors’ Book, in which he signed himself
“George Borrow Norvicensis.”
The real object of this visit appears to have been his desire to study more closely the Spanish gypsies. From Granada he proceeded to Malaga. Neither place can be said to be on the direct road to England; but the disturbed state of the country had to be taken into consideration, and it was a question not of the shortest road but the safest.
On his return to London, early in October, Borrow wrote a report {184a} upon his labours, roughly sketching out his work since he left Badajos. He repeated his view that the Papal See had lost its power over Spain, and that the present moment was a peculiarly appropriate one in which to spread the light of the Gospel over the Peninsula. Forgetting the thievish propensities of the race, he wrote glowingly of the Spaniards and their intellectual equipment, the clearness with which they expressed themselves, and the elegance of their diction. The mind of the Spaniard was a garden run to waste, and it was for the British and Foreign Bible Society to cultivate it and purge it of the rank and bitter weeds.
He foresaw no difficulty whatever in disposing of 5000 copies of the New Testament in a short time in the capital and provincial towns, in particular Cadiz and Seville where the people were more enlightened. He was not so confident about the rural districts, where those who assured him that they were acquainted with the New Testament said that it contained hymns addressed to the Virgin which were written by the Pope.
CHAPTER XII: NOVEMBER 1836-MAY 1837
Borrow remained in England for a month (3rd October/4th November), during which time he conferred with the Committee and Officials at Earl Street as to the future programme in Spain. On 4th November, having sent to his mother 130 pounds of the 150 pounds he had drawn as salary, and promising to write to Mr Brandram from Cadiz, he sailed from London in the steamer Manchester, bound for Lisbon and Cadiz.
In a letter to his mother, he describes his fellow passengers as invalids fleeing from the English winter. “Some of them are three parts gone with consumption,” he writes, “some are ruptured, some have broken backs; I am the only sound person in the ship, which is crowded to suffocation. I am in a little hole of a berth where I can scarcely breathe, and every now and then wet through.”
The horrors of the voyage from Falmouth to Lisbon he has described with terrifying vividness; {185a} how the engines broke down and the vessel was being driven on to Cape Finisterre; how all hope had been abandoned, and the Captain had told the passengers of their impending fate; how the wind suddenly “VEERED RIGHT ABOUT, and pushed us from the horrible coast faster than it had previously driven us towards it.” {185b}
During the whole of that terrible night Borrow had remained on deck, all the other passengers having been battened down below. He was almost drowned in the seas that broke over the vessel, and, on one occasion, was struck down by a water cask that had broken away from its lashings. Even after he had escaped Cape Finisterre, the ordeal was not over; for the ship was in a sinking condition, and fire broke out on board. Eventually the engines were repaired, the fire extinguished, and Lisbon was reached on the 13th, where Borrow landed with his water-soaked luggage, and found on examination that the greater part of his clothes had been ruined. In spite of this experience, he determined to continue his voyage to Cadiz in the Manchester, probably for reasons of economy, indifferent to the fact that she was utterly unseaworthy, and that most of the other passengers had abandoned her. During his enforced stay in Lisbon, whilst the ship was being patched up, Borrow saw Mr Wilby and made enquiry into the state of the Society’s affairs in Portugal. Many changes had taken place and the country was in a distracted state.
After a week’s delay at Lisbon the Manchester continued her voyage to Cadiz, where she arrived without further mishap on the 21st. During this voyage a fellow passenger with Borrow was the Marques de Santa Coloma. “According to the expression of the Marques, when they stepped on to the quay at Cadiz, Borrow looked round, saw some Gitanos lounging there, said something that the Marques could not understand, and immediately ‘that man became une grappe de Gitanos.’ They hung round his neck, clung to his knees, seized his hands, kissed his feet, so that the Marques hardly liked to join his comrade again after such close embraces by so dirty a company.” {186a}
Borrow now found himself in his allotted field–unhappy, miserable, distracted Spain. Gomez, the Carlist leader, had been sweeping through Estremadura like a pestilence, and Borrow fully expected to find Seville occupied by his banditti; but Carlists possessed no terrors for him. Unless he could do something to heal the spiritual wounds of the wretched country, he assured Mr Brandram, he would never again return to England.
On 1st December Mr Brandram wrote to Borrow expressing deep sympathy with all he had been through, and adding: “If you go forward . . . we will help you by prayer. If you retreat we shall welcome you cordially.” He appears to have written before consulting with the Committee, who, on hearing of the actual state of affairs in Spain, became filled with misgiving and anxiety for the safety of their agent, who seemed to be destitute of fear. Mr Brandram had been content for Borrow to go forward if he so decided, but, as he wrote later, “your prospective dangers, while they created an absorbing interest, were viewed in different lights by the Committee,” who thought they had “no right to commit you to such perils. My own feeling was that, while I could not urge you forward, there were peculiarities in your history and character that I would not keep you back if you were minded to go. A few felt with me–most, however, thought that you should have been restrained.” {187a} It was decided therefore to forbid him to proceed on his hazardous adventure, and accordingly a letter was addressed to him care of the British Consul at Cadiz. If Borrow received this he disregarded the instructions it contained.
Cadiz proved to be in a state of great confusion. It was reported that numerous bands of Carlists were in the neighbourhood, and the whole city was in a state of ferment in consequence. In the coffee- houses the din of tongues was deafening; would-be orators, sometimes as many as six at one time, sprang up upon chairs and tables and ventilated their political views. The paramount, nay, the only, interest was not in the words of Christ; but the probable doings of the Carlists.
On the night of his arrival Borrow was taken ill with what, at the time, he thought to be cholera, and for some time in the little “cock-loft or garret” that had been allotted to him at the over- crowded French hotel, he was “in most acute pain, and terribly sick,” drinking oil mixed with brandy. For two days he was so exhausted as to be able to do nothing.
On the morning of the 24th he embarked in a small Spanish steamer bound for Seville, which was reached that same night. The sun had dissipated the melancholy and stupor left by his illness, and by the time he arrived at Seville he was repeating Latin verses and fragments of old Spanish ballads to a brilliant moon. The condition of affairs at Seville was as bad if not worse than at Cadiz. There was scarcely any communication with the capital, the diligences no longer ran, and even the fearless arrieros (muleteers) declined to set out. Famine, plunder and murder were let loose over the land. Bands of banditti robbed, tortured and slew in the name of Don Carlos. They stripped the peasantry of all they possessed, and the poor wretches in turn became brigands and preyed upon those weaker than themselves. Through all this Borrow had to penetrate in order to reach Madrid. Had the road been familiar to him he would have performed the journey alone, dressed either as a beggar or as a gypsy. It is obvious that he appreciated the hazardous nature of the journey he was undertaking, for he asked Mr Brandram, in the event of his death, to keep the news from old Mrs Borrow as long as possible and then to go down to Norwich and break it to her himself.
At Seville Borrow encountered Baron Taylor, {188a} whom he states that he had first met at Bayonne (during the “veiled period”), and later in Russia, beside the Bosphorus, and finally in the South of Ireland. Than Baron Taylor there was no one for whom Borrow entertained “a greater esteem and regard . . . There is a mystery about him which, wherever he goes, serves not a little to increase the sensation naturally created by his appearance and manner.” {189a} Borrow was much attracted to this mysterious personage, about whom nothing could be asserted “with downright positiveness.”
From Seville Borrow proceeded to Cordoba, accompanied by “an elderly person, a Genoese by birth,” whose acquaintance he had made and whom he hoped later to employ in the distribution of the Testaments. Borrow had hired a couple of miserable horses. The Genoese had not been in the saddle for some thirty years, and he was an old man and timid. His horse soon became aware of this, and neither whip nor spur could persuade it to exert itself. When approaching night rendered it necessary to make a special effort to hasten forward, the bridle of the discontented steed had to be fastened to that of its fellow, which was then urged forward “with spur and cudgel.” Both the Genoese and his mount protested against such drastic measures, the one by entreaties to be permitted to dismount, the other by attempting to fling itself down. The only notice Borrow took of these protests was to spur and cudgel the more.
On the night of the third day the party arrived at Cordoba, and was cordially welcomed by the Carlist innkeeper, who, although avowing himself strictly neutral, confessed how great had been his pleasure at welcoming the Carlists when they occupied the City a short time before. It was at this inn that Borrow explained to the elderly Genoese, who had indiscreetly resented his host’s disrespectful remarks about the young Queen Isabel, how he invariably managed to preserve good relations with all sorts of factions. “My good man,” he said, “I am invariably of the politics of the people at whose table I sit, or beneath whose roof I sleep; at least I never say anything which can lead them to suspect the contrary; by pursuing which system I have more than once escaped a bloody pillow, and having the wine I drank spiced with sublimate.” {190a}
Borrow remained at Cordoba much longer than he had intended, because of the reports that reached him of the unsafe condition of the roads. He sent back the old Genoese with the horses, and spent the time in thoroughly examining the town and making acquaintances among its inhabitants. At length, after a stay of ten or eleven days, despairing of any improvement in the state of the country, he continued his journey in the company of a contrabandista, temporarily retired from the smuggling trade, from whom he hired two horses for the sum of forty-two dollars. Borrow allowed no compunction to assail him as to the means he employed when he was thoroughly convinced as to the worthiness of the end he had in view. To further his projects he would cheerfully have travelled with the Pope himself.
The journey to Madrid proved dismal in the extreme. The contrabandista was sullen and gloomy, despite the fact that his horses had been insured against loss and the handsome fee he was to receive for his services. The Despenaperros in the Sierra Morena through which Borrow had to pass, had, even in times of peace, a most evil reputation; but by great good luck for Borrow, the local banditti had during the previous day “committed a dreadful robbery and murder by which they sacked 40,000 reals.” {190b} They were in all probability too busily occupied in dividing their spoil to watch for other travellers. Another factor that was much in Borrow’s favour was a change in the weather.
“Suddenly the Lord breathed forth a frozen blast,” Borrow writes, “the severity of which was almost intolerable. No human being but ourselves ventured forth. We traversed snow-covered plains, and passed through villages and towns to all appearance deserted. The robbers kept close to their caves and hovels, but the cold nearly killed us. We reached Aranjuez late on Christmas day, and I got into the house of an Englishman, where I swallowed nearly a pint of brandy: {191a} it affected me no more than warm water. {191b}
Borrow arrived at Madrid on 26th December, having almost by a miracle avoided death or capture by the human wolves that infested the country. He took up his quarters at 16 Calle de Santiago at the house of Maria Diaz, who was to prove so loyal a friend during many critical periods of his work in Spain. His first care was to call upon the British Minister, and enquire if he considered it safe to proceed with the printing without special application to the new Government. Mr Villiers’ answer is interesting, as showing how thoroughly he had taken Borrow under his protection.
“You obtained the permission of the Government of Isturitz,” he replied, “which was a much less liberal one than the present; I am a witness to the promise made to you by the former Ministers, which I consider sufficient; you had best commence and complete the work as soon as possible without any fresh application, and should anyone attempt to interrupt you, you have only to come to me, whom you may command at any time.” {191c}
Having saved the Bible Society 9000 reals in its paper bill alone, {191d} Borrow proceeded to arrange for the printing. He had already opened negotiations with Charles Wood, who was associated with Andreas Borrego, {192a} the most fashionable printer in Madrid, who not only had the best printing-presses in Spain, but had been specially recommended by Isturitz. It had been tentatively arranged that an edition of 5000 copies of the New Testament should be printed from the version of Father Felipe Scio de San Miguel, confessor to Ferdinand VII., without notes or commentaries, and delivered within