On arriving at Seville Borrow had put up at the Posada de la Reyna, in the Calle Gimios, and here on 4th May (he had arrived about 24th April) he encountered Lieut.-Colonel Elers Napier. Borrow liked nothing so well as appearing in the rôle of a mysterious stranger. He loved mystery as much as a dramatic moment. His admiration of Baron Taylor was largely based upon the innumerable conjectures as to who it was that surrounded his puzzling personality with such an air of mystery. That May morning Colonel Napier, who was also staying at the Posada de la Reyna, was wandering about the galleries overlooking the patio. He writes:—
“whilst occupied in moralising over the dripping water spouts, I observed a tall, gentlemanly-looking man dressed in a semarra [zamarra, a sheepskin jacket with the wool outside] leaning over the balustrades and apparently engaged in a similar manner with myself . . . From the stranger’s complexion, which was fair, but with brilliant black eyes, I concluded he was not a Spaniard; in short, there was something so remarkable in his appearance that it was difficult to say to what nation he might belong. He was tall, with a commanding appearance; yet, though apparently in the flower of manhood, his hair was so deeply tinged with the winter of either age or sorrow as to be nearly snow white.” [294a]
Colonel Napier was thoroughly mystified. The stranger answered his French in “the purest Parisian Accent”; yet he proved capable of speaking fluent English, of giving orders to his Greek servant in Romaïc, of conversing “in good Castillian with ‘mine host’,” and of exchanging salutations in German with another resident at the fonda. Later the Colonel had the gratification of startling the Unknown by replying to some remark of his in Hindi; but only momentarily, for he showed himself “delighted on finding I was an Indian, and entered freely, and with depth and acuteness, on the affairs of the East, most of which part of the world he had visited.” [294b]
No one could give any information about “the mysterious Unknown,” who or what he was, or why he was travelling. It was known that the police entertained suspicions that he was a Russian spy, and kept him under strict observation. Whatever else he was, Colonel Napier found him “a very agreeable companion.” [295]
On the following morning (a Sunday) Colonel Napier and his Unknown set out on horseback on an excursion to the ruins of Italica. As they sat on a ruined wall of the Convent of San Isidoro, contemplating the scene of ruin and desolation around, “the ‘Unknown’ began to feel the vein of poetry creeping through his inward soul, and gave vent to it by reciting with great emphasis and effect” some lines that the scene called up to his mind.
“I had been too much taken up with the scene,” Colonel Napier continues, “the verses, and the strange being who was repeating them with so much feeling, to notice the approach of a slight female figure, beautiful in the extreme, but whose tattered garments, raven hair, swarthy complexion and flashing eyes proclaimed to be of the wandering tribe of Gitanos. From an intuitive sense of politeness, she stood with crossed arms and a slight smile on her dark and handsome countenance until my companion had ceased, and then addressed us in the usual whining tone of supplication—‘Caballeritos, una limosnita! Dios se la pagará á ustedes!’—‘Gentlemen, a little charity; God will repay it to you!’ The gypsy girl was so pretty and her voice so sweet, that I involuntarily put my hand in my pocket.
“‘Stop!’ said the Unknown. ‘Do you remember what I told you about the Eastern origin of these people? You shall see I am correct.’—‘Come here, my pretty child,’ said he in Moultanee, ‘and tell me where are the rest of your tribe.’
“The girl looked astounded, replied in the same tongue, but in broken language; when, taking him by the arm, she said in Spanish, ‘Come, cabellero—come to one who will be able to answer you’; and she led the way down amongst the ruins, towards one of the dens formerly occupied by the wild beasts, and disclosed to us a set of beings scarcely less savage. The sombre walls of the gloomy abode were illumined by a fire the smoke from which escaped through a deep fissure in the mossy roof; whilst the flickering flames threw a blood-red glare on the bronzed features of a group of children, of two men, and a decrepit old hag, who appeared busily engaged in some culinary preparations.
“On our entrance, the scowling glance of the males of the party, and a quick motion of the hand towards the folds of the ‘faja’ [a sash in which the Spaniard carries a formidable clasp-knife] caused in me, at least, anything but a comfortable sensation; but their hostile intentions, if ever entertained, were immediately removed by a wave of the hand from our conductress, who, leading my companion towards the sibyl, whispered something in her ear. The old crone appeared incredulous. The ‘Unknown’ uttered one word; but that word had the effect of magic; she prostrated herself at his feet, and in an instant, from an object of suspicion he became one of worship to the whole family, to whom, on taking leave, he made a handsome present, and departed with their united blessings, to the astonishment of myself and what looked very like terror in our Spanish guide.
“I was, as the phrase goes, dying with curiosity, and as soon as we mounted our horses, exclaimed—‘Where, in the name of goodness, did you pick up your acquaintance with the language of those extraordinary people?’
“‘Some years ago, in Moultan,’ he replied.
“‘And by what means do you possess such apparent influence over them?’ But the ‘Unknown’ had already said more than he perhaps wished on the subject. He drily replied that he had more than once owed his life to gypsies, and had reason to know them well; but this was said in a tone which precluded all further queries on my part. The subject was never again broached, and we returned in silence to the fonda . . . This is a most extraordinary character, and the more I see of him the more am I puzzled. He appears acquainted with everybody and everything, but apparently unknown to every one himself. Though his figure bespeaks youth—and by his own account his age does not exceed thirty [he would be thirty-six in the following July]—yet the snows of eighty winters could not have whitened his locks more completely than they are. But in his dark and searching eye there is an almost supernatural penetration and lustre, which, were I inclined to superstition, might induce me to set down its possessor as a second Melmoth.” [297]
Borrow confesses that he was at a loss to know how to commence operations in Seville. He was entirely friendless, even the British Consul being unapproachable on account of his religious beliefs. However, he soon gathered round him some of those curious characters who seemed always to gravitate towards him, no matter where he might be, or with what occupied. Surely the Scriptures never had such a curious assortment of missionaries as Borrow employed? At Seville there was the gigantic Greek, Dionysius of Cephalonia; the “aged professor of music, who, with much stiffness and ceremoniousness, united much that was excellent and admirable”; [298] the Greek bricklayer, Johannes Chysostom, a native of Morea, who might at any time become “the Masaniello of Seville.” With these assistants Borrow set to work to throw the light of the Gospel into the dark corners of the city.
Soon after arriving at Seville, he decided to adopt a new plan of living.
“On account of the extreme dearness of every article at the posada,” he wrote to Mr Brandram on 12th June, “where, moreover, I had a suspicion that I was being watched [this may have reference to the police suspicion that he was a Russian spy], I removed with my servant and horses to an empty house in a solitary part of the town . . . Here I live in the greatest privacy, admitting no person but two or three in whom I had the greatest confidence, who entertain the same views as myself, and who assist me in the circulation of the Gospel.”
The house stood in a solitary situation, occupying one side of the Plazuela de la Pila Seca (the Little Square of the Empty Trough). It was a two-storied building and much too large for Borrow’s requirements. Having bought the necessary articles of furniture, he retired behind the shutters of his Andalusian mansion with Antonio and the two horses. He lived in the utmost seclusion, spending a large portion of his time in study or in dreamy meditation. “The people here complain sadly of the heat,” he writes to Mr Brandram (28th June 1839), “but as for myself, I luxuriate in it, like the butterflies which hover about the macetas, or flowerpots, in the court.” In the cool of the evening he would mount Sidi Habismilk and ride along the Dehesa until the topmost towers of the city were out of sight, then, turning the noble Arab, he would let him return at his best speed, which was that of the whirlwind.
Throughout his work in Spain Borrow had been seriously handicapped by being unable to satisfy the demand for Bibles that met him everywhere he went. In a letter (June) from Maria Diaz, who was acting as his agent in Madrid, [299] the same story is told.
“The binder has brought me eight Bibles,” she writes, “which he has contrived to make up out of the sheets gnawn by the rats, and which would have been necessary even had they amounted to eight thousand (y era necesario se puvièran vuelto 8000), because the people are innumerable who come to seek more. Don Santiago has been here with some friends, who insisted upon having a part of them. The Aragonese Gentleman has likewise been, he who came before your departure, and bespoke twenty-four; he now wants twenty-five. I begged them to take Testaments, but they would not.” [300]
The Greek bricklayer proved a most useful agent. His great influence with his poor acquaintances resulted in the sale of many Testaments. More could have been done had it not been necessary to proceed with extreme caution, lest the authorities should take action and seize the small stock of books that remained.
When he took and furnished the large house in the little square, there had been in Borrow’s mind another reason than a desire for solitude and freedom from prying eyes. Throughout his labours in Spain he had kept up a correspondence with Mrs Clarke of Oulton, who, on 15th March, had written informing him of her intention to take up her abode for a short time at Seville.
For some time previously Mrs Clarke had been having trouble about her estate. Her mother (September 1835) and father (February 1836) were both dead, and her brother Breame had inherited the estate and she the mortgage together with the Cottage on Oulton Broad. Breame Skepper died (May 1837), leaving a wife and six children. In his will he had appointed Trustees, who demanded the sale of the Estate and division of the money, which was opposed by Mrs Clarke as executrix and mortgagee. Later it was agreed between the parties that the Estate should be sold for £11,000 to a Mr Joseph Cator Webb, and an agreement to that effect was signed. Anticipating that the Estate would increase in value, and apparently regretting their bargain, the Trustees delayed carrying out their undertaking, and Mr Webb filed a bill in Chancery to force them to do so. Mrs Clarke’s legal advisers thought it better that she should disappear for a time. Hence her letter to Borrow, in replying to which (29th March), he expresses pleasure at the news of his friend’s determination “to settle in Seville for a short time—which, I assure you, I consider to be the most agreeable retreat you can select . . . for there the growls of your enemies will scarcely reach you.” He goes on to tell her that he laughed outright at the advice of her counsellor not to take a house and furnish it.
“Houses in Spain are let by the day: and in a palace here you will find less furniture than in your cottage at Oulton. Were you to furnish a Spanish house in the style of cold, wintry England, you would be unable to breathe. A few chairs, tables, and mattresses are all that is required, with of course a good stock of bed-linen . . .
“Bring with you, therefore, your clothes, plenty of bed-linen, etc., half-a-dozen blankets, two dozen knives and forks, a mirror or two, twelve silver table spoons, and a large one for soup, tea things and urn (for the Spaniards never drink tea), a few books, but not many,—and you will have occasion for nothing more, or, if you have, you can purchase it here as cheap as in England.”
Borrow’s ideas of domestic comfort were those of the old campaigner. For all that, he showed himself very thorough in the directions he gave as to how and where Mrs Clarke should book her passage and obtain “a passport for yourself and Hen.” (Henrietta her daughter, now nearly twenty years of age), and the warning he gave that no attempt should be made to go ashore at Lisbon, “a very dangerous place.”
On 7th June Mrs Clarke and her daughter Henrietta sailed from London on board the steam-packet Royal Tar bound for Cadiz, where they arrived on the 16th, and, on the day following, entered into possession of their temporary home where Borrow was already installed, safe for the time from Mr Webb’s Chancery bill. It was no doubt to Mrs and Miss Clarke that Borrow referred when he wrote to Mr Brandram [301] saying that “two or three ladies of my acquaintance occasionally dispose of some [Testaments] amongst their friends, but they say that they experience some difficulty, the cry for Bibles being great.”
Borrow continued to reside at 7 Plazuela de la Pila Seca, and Mrs Clarke and Henrietta soon learned something of the vicissitudes and excitements of a missionary’s life. On Sunday, 8th July, as Borrow “happened to be reading the Liturgy,” he received a visit from “various alguacils, headed by the Alcade del Barrio, or headborough, who made a small seizure of Testaments and Gypsy Gospels which happened to be lying about.” [302] This circumstance convinced Borrow of the good effect of his labours in and around Seville.
The time had now arrived, however, when the whole of the smuggled Testaments had been disposed of, and there was no object in remaining longer in Seville, or in Spain for that matter. There were books at San Lucar that might without official opposition be shipped out of the country, and Borrow therefore determined to see what could be done towards distributing them among the Spanish residents on the Coast of Barbary. This done, he hoped to return to Spain and dispose of the 900 odd Testaments lying at Madrid. On 18th July he wrote to Mr Brandram:—
“I should wish to be permitted on my return from my present expedition to circulate some in La Mancha. The state of that province is truly horrible; it appears peopled partly with spectres and partly with demons. There is famine, and such famine; there is assassination and such unnatural assassination [another of Borrow’s phrases that must have struck the Committee as odd]. There you see soldiers and robbers, ghastly lepers and horrible and uncouth maimed and blind, exhibiting their terrible nakedness in the sun. I was prevented last year in carrying the Gospel amongst them. May I be more successful this.”
Antonio had been dismissed, his master being “compelled to send [him] back to Madrid . . . on account of his many irregularities,” and in consequence it was alone, on the night of 31st July, that Borrow set out upon his expedition. From Seville he took the steamer to Bonanza, from whence he drove to San Lucar, where he picked up a chest of New Testaments and a small box of St Luke’s Gospel in Gitano, with a pass for them to Cadiz. It proved expensive, this claiming of his own property, for at every step there was some fee to be paid or gratuity to be given. The last payment was made to the Spanish Consul at Gibraltar, who claimed and received a dollar for certifying the arrival of books he had not seen.
Borrow was instinctively a missionary, even a great missionary. At the Customs House of San Lucar some questions were asked about the books contained in the cases, and he seized the occasion to hold an informal missionary meeting, with the officials clustered round him listening to his discourse. One of the cases had to be opened for inspection, and the upshot of it was that, to the very officials whose duty it was to see that the books were not distributed in Spain, Borrow sold a number of copies, not only of the Spanish Testament, but of the Gypsy St Luke. Such was the power of his personality and the force of his eloquence.
From San Lucar Borrow returned to Bonanza and again took the boat, which landed him at Cadiz, where he was hospitably entertained by Mr Brackenbury, the British Consul, who gave him a letter of introduction to Mr Drummond Hay, the Consul-General at Tangier. On 4th August he proceeded to Gibraltar. It was not until the 8th, however, that he was able to cross to Tangier, where he was kindly received by Mr Hay, who found for him a very comfortable lodging.
Taking the Consul’s advice, Borrow proceeded with extreme caution. For the first fortnight of his stay he made no effort to distribute his Testaments, contenting himself with studying the town and its inhabitants, occasionally speaking to the Christians in the place (principally Spanish and Genoese sailors and their families) about religious matters, but always with the greatest caution lest the two or three friars, who resided at what was known as the Spanish Convent, should become alarmed. Again Borrow obtained the services of a curious assistant, a Jewish lad named Hayim Ben Attar, who carried the Testaments to the people’s houses and offered them for sale, and this with considerable success. On 4th September Borrow wrote to Mr Brandram:—
“The blessed book is now in the hands of most of the Christians of Tangier, from the lowest to the highest, from the fisherman to the consul. One dozen and a half were carried to Tetuan on speculation, a town about six leagues from hence; they will be offered to the Christians who reside there. Other two dozen are on their way to distant Mogadore. One individual, a tavern keeper, has purchased Testaments to the number of thirty, which he says he has no doubt he can dispose of to the foreign sailors who stop occasionally at his house. You will be surprised to hear that several amongst the Jews have purchased copies of the New Testament with the intention, as they state, of improving themselves in Spanish, but I believe from curiosity.”
During his stay in Tangier, Borrow had some trouble with the British Vice-Consul, who seems to have made himself extremely offensive with his persistent offers of service. His face was “purple and blue” and in whose blood-shot eyes there was an expression “much like that of a departed tunny fish or salmon,” and he became so great an annoyance that Borrow made a complaint to Mr Drummond Hay. This is one of the few instances of Borrow’s experiencing difficulty with any British official, for, as a rule, he was extremely popular. In this particular instance, however, the Vice-Consul was so obviously seeking to make profit out of his official position, that there was no other means open to Borrow than to make a formal complaint.
In the case of Mr Drummond Hay, he obtained the friendship of a “true British gentleman.” At first the Consul had been reserved and distant, and apparently by no means inclined to render Borrow any service in the furtherance of his mission; but a few days sufficed to bring him under the influence of Borrow’s personal magnetism, and he ended by assuring him that he would be happy to receive the Society’s commands, and would render all possible assistance, officially or otherwise, to the distribution of the Scriptures “in Fez or Morocco.”
Borrow was thoroughly satisfied with the result of his five weeks’ stay in Tangier. He reached Cadiz on his way to Seville on 21st Sept., after undergoing a four days’ quarantine at Tarifa, when he wrote to Mr Brandram (29th Sept.):
“I am very glad that I went to Tangier, for many reasons. In the first place, I was permitted to circulate many copies of God’s Word both among the Jews and the Christians, by the latter of whom it was particularly wanted, their ignorance of the most vital points of religion being truly horrible. In the second place, I acquired a vast stock of information concerning Africa and the state of its interior. One of my principal Associates was a black slave whose country was only three days’ journey from Timbuctoo, which place he had frequently visited. The Soos men also told me many of the secrets of the land of wonders from which they come, and the Rabbis from Fez and Morocco were no less communicative.”
Borrow had started upon his expedition to the Barbary Coast without any definite instructions from Earl Street. On 29th July the Sub-Committee had resolved that as his mission to Spain was “nearly attained by the disposal of the larger part of the Spanish Scriptures which he went out to distribute,” the General Committee be recommended to request him to take measures for selling or placing in safe custody all copies remaining on hand and returning to England “without loss of time.” This was adopted on 5th Aug.; but before it received the formal sanction of the General Committee Mr Browne had written (29th July) to Borrow acquainting him with the feeling of the Sub-Committee, thinking that he ought to have early intimation of what was taking place. This letter Borrow found awaiting him at Cadiz on his return from Tangier. He replied immediately (21st Sept.):
“Had I been aware of that resolution before my departure for Tangier I certainly should not have gone; my expedition, however, was the result of much reflection. I wished to carry the Gospel to the Christians of the Barbary shore, who were much in want of it; and I had one hundred and thirty Testaments at San Lucar, which I could only make available by exportation. The success which it has pleased the Lord to yield me in my humble efforts at distribution in Barbary will, I believe, prove the best criterion as to the fitness of the enterprise.
“I stated in my last communication to Mr Brandram the plan which I conceived to be the best for circulating that portion of the edition of the New Testament which remains unsold at Madrid, and I scarcely needed a stimulant in the execution of my duty. At present, however, I know not what to do; I am sorrowful, disappointed and unstrung.
“I wish to return to England as soon as possible; but I have books and papers at Madrid which are of much importance to me and which I cannot abandon, this perhaps alone prevents me embarking in the next packet. I have, moreover, brought with me from Tangier the Jewish youth [Hayim Ben Attar], who so powerfully assisted me in that place in the work of distribution. I had hoped to have made him of service in Spain, he is virtuous and clever . . .
“I am almost tempted to ask whether some strange, some unaccountable delusion does not exist: what should induce me to stay in Spain, as you appear to suppose I intend? I may, however, have misunderstood you. I wish to receive a fresh communication as soon as possible, either from yourself or Mr Brandram; in the meantime I shall go to Seville, to which place and to the usual number pray direct.”
It would appear that the Bible Society had become aware of Borrow’s ménage at Seville, and concluded that he meant to take up his abode in Spain more or less permanently.
Borrow’s next plan was to order a chest of Testaments to be sent to La Mancha, where he had friends, then to mount his horse and proceed there in person. With the assistance of his Jewish body-servant he hoped to circulate many copies before the authorities became aware of his presence. Later he would proceed to Madrid, put his affairs in order, and make for France by way of Saragossa (where he hoped to accomplish some good), and then—home.
In September a circular signed by Lord Palmerston was received by all the British Consuls in Spain, strictly forbidding them “to afford the slightest countenance to religious agents. [307a] What was the cause of this last blow?” [307b] Borrow rather unfortunately enquired of Mr Brandram. The Consul at Cadiz, Mr Brackenbury, explained it, according to Borrow, as due to “an ill-advised application made to his Lordship to interfere with the Spanish Government on behalf of a certain individual [307c] [Lieut. Graydon] whose line of conduct needs no comment.” [307d] After pointing out that once the same consuls had received from a British Ambassador instructions to further, in their official capacity, the work of the Bible Society, he concludes with the following remark, as ill-advised as it is droll: “When dead flies fall into the ointment of the apothecary they cause it to send forth an unpleasant savour.” [308a]
It must have been obvious to both Borrow and Mr Brandram that matters were rapidly approaching a crisis. Mr Brandram seems to have been almost openly hostile, and draws Borrow’s attention to the fact that after all his distributions have been small. Borrow replies by saying that the fault did not rest with him. Had he been able to offer Bibles instead of Testaments for sale, the circulation would have been ten times greater. He expresses it as his belief that had he received 20,000 Bibles he could have sold them all in Madrid during the Spring of 1839.
“When the Bible Society has no further occasion for my poor labours,” he wrote [308b] somewhat pathetically, “I hope it will do me justice to the world. I have been its faithful and zealous servant. I shall on a future occasion take the liberty of addressing you as a friend respecting my prospects. I have the materials of a curious book of travels in Spain; I have enough metrical translations from all languages, especially the Celtic and Sclavonic, to fill a dozen volumes; and I have formed a vocabulary of the Spanish Gypsy tongue, and also a collection of the songs and poetry of the Gitanos, with introductory essays. Perhaps some of these literary labours might be turned to account. I wish to obtain honourably and respectably the means of visiting China or particular parts of Africa.”
It is clear from this that Borrow saw how unlikely it was that his association with the Bible Society would be prolonged beyond the present commission. For one thing Spain was, to all intents and purposes, closed to the unannotated Scriptures. Something might be done in the matter of surreptitious distribution; but that had its clearly defined limitations, as the authorities were very much alive to the danger of the light that Borrow sought to cast over the gloom of ignorance and superstition.
At Earl Street it was clearly recognised that Borrow’s work in Spain was concluded. On 1st November the Sub-Committee resolved that it could “not recommend to the General Committee to engage the further services of Mr Borrow until he shall have returned to this country from his Mission in Spain.” Again, on 10th January following, it recommends the General Committee to recall him “without further delay.”
Although he had been officially recalled, nothing was further from Borrow’s intentions than to retire meekly from the field. He intended to retreat with drums sounding and colours flying, fighting something more than a rearguard action. This man’s energy and resource were terrible—to the authorities! Seville he felt was still a fruitful ground, and sending to Madrid for further supplies of Testaments, he commenced operations. “Everything was accomplished with the utmost secrecy, and the blessed books obtained considerable circulation.” [309] Agents were sent into the country and he went also himself, “in my accustomed manner,” until all the copies that had arrived from the capital were put into circulation. He then rested for a while, being in need of quiet, as he was indisposed.
By this action Borrow was incurring no little risk. The Canons of the Cathedral watched him closely. Their hatred amounted “almost to a frenzy,” and Borrow states that scarcely a day passed without some accusation of other being made to the Civil Governor, all of which were false. People whom he had never seen were persuaded to perjure themselves by swearing that he had sold or given them books. The same system was carried on whilst he was in Africa, because the authorities refused to believe that he was out of Spain.
There now occurred another regrettable incident, and Borrow once more suffered for the indiscretion of those whom he neither knew nor controlled. To Mr Brandram he wrote:
“Some English people now came to Seville and distributed tracts in a very unguarded manner, knowing nothing of the country or the inhabitants. They were even so unwise as to give tracts instead of money on visiting public buildings, etc. [!]. These persons came to me and requested my coöperation and advice, and likewise introductions to people spiritually disposed amongst the Spaniards, to all which requests I returned a decided negative. But I foresaw all. In a day or two I was summoned before the Civil Governor, or, as he was once called, the Corregidor, of Seville, who, I must say, treated me with the utmost politeness and indeed respect; but at the same time he informed me that he had (to use his own expression) terrible orders from Madrid concerning me if I should be discovered in the act of distributing the Scriptures or any writings of a religious tendency; he then taxed me with having circulated both lately, especially tracts; whereupon I told him that I had never distributed a tract since I had been in Spain nor had any intention of doing so. We had much conversation and parted in kindness.” [310]
For a few days nothing happened; then, determined to set out on an expedition to La Mancha (the delay had been due to the insecure state of the roads), Borrow sent his passport (24th Nov.) for signature to the Alcalde del Barrio.
“This fellow,” Borrow informs Mr Brandram, “is the greatest ruffian in Seville, and I have on various occasions been insulted by him; he pretends to be a liberal, but he is of no principle at all, and as I reside within his district he has been employed by the Canons of the Cathedral to vex and harrass me on every possible occasion.”
In the following letter, addressed to the British Chargé d’Affaires (the Hon. G. S. S. Jerningham), Borrow gives a full account of what transpired between him and the Alcalde of Seville:—
Sir,
I beg leave to lay before you the following statement of certain facts which lately occurred at Seville, from which you will perceive that the person of a British Subject has been atrociously outraged, the rights and privileges of a foreigner in Spain violated, and the sanctuary of a private house invaded without the slightest reason or shadow of authority by a person in the employ of the Spanish Government.
For some months past I have been a resident at Seville in a house situated in a square called the “Plazuela de la Pila Seca.” In this house I possess apartments, the remainder being occupied by an English Lady and her daughter, the former of whom is the widow of an officer of the highest respectability who died in the naval service of Great Britain. On the twenty-fourth of last November, I sent a servant, a Native of Spain, to the Office of the “Ayuntamiento” of Seville for the purpose of demanding my passport, it being my intention to set out the next day for Cordoba. The “Ayuntamiento” returned for answer that it was necessary that the ticket of residence (Billete de residencia) which I had received on sending in the Passport should be signed by the Alcalde of the district in which I resided, to which intimation I instantly attended. I will here take the liberty of observing that on several occasions during my residence at Seville, I have experienced gross insults from this Alcalde, and that more than once when I have had occasion to leave the Town, he has refused to sign the necessary document for the recovery of the passport; he now again refused to do so, and used coarse language to the Messenger; whereupon I sent the latter back with money to pay any fees, lawful or unlawful, which might be demanded, as I wished to avoid noise and the necessity of applying to the Consul, Mr Williams; but the fellow became only more outrageous. I then went myself to demand an explanation, and was saluted with no inconsiderable quantity of abuse. I told him that if he proceeded in this manner I would make a complaint to the Authorities through the British Consul. He then said if I did not instantly depart he would drag me off to prison and cause me to be knocked down if I made the slightest resistance. I dared him repeatedly to do both, and said that he was a disgrace to the Government which employed him, and to human nature. He called me a vile foreigner. We were now in the street and a mob had collected, whereupon I cried: “Viva Inglaterra y viva la Constitucion.” The populace remained quiet, notwithstanding the exhortations of the Alcalde that they would knock down “the foreigner,” for he himself quailed before me as I looked him in the face, defying him. At length he exclaimed, with the usual obscene Spanish oath, “I will make you lower your head” (Yo te haré abajar la cabeza), and ran to a neighbouring guard-house and requested the assistance of the Nationals in conducting me to prison. I followed him and delivered myself up at the first summons, and walked to the prison without uttering a word; not so the Alcalde, who continued his abuse until we arrived at the gate, repeatedly threatening to have me knocked down if I moved to the right or left.
I was asked my name by the Authorities of the prison, which I refused to give unless in the presence of the Consul of my Nation, and indeed to answer any questions. I was then ordered to the Patio, or Courtyard, where are kept the lowest thieves and assassins of Seville, who, having no money, cannot pay for better accommodation, and by whom I should have been stripped naked in a moment as a matter of course, as they are all in a state of raging hunger and utter destitution. I asked for a private cell, which I was told I might have if I could pay for it. I stated my willingness to pay anything which might be demanded, and was conducted to an upper ward consisting of several cells and a corridor; here I found six or seven Prisoners, who received me very civilly, and instantly procured me paper and ink for the purpose of writing to the Consul. In less than an hour Mr Williams arrived and I told him my story, whereupon he instantly departed in order to demand redress of the Authorities. The next morning the Alcalde, without any authority from the Political [Civil] Governor of Seville, and unaccompanied by the English Consul, as the law requires in such cases, and solely attended by a common Escribano, went to the house in which I was accustomed to reside and demanded admission. The door was opened by my Moorish Servant, Hayim Ben-Attar, whom he commanded instantly to show the way to my apartments. On the Servant’s demanding by what authority he came, he said, “Cease chattering” (Deje cuentos), “I shall give no account to you; show me the way; if not, I will take you to prison as I did your master: I come to search for prohibited books.” The Moor, who being in a strange land was somewhat intimidated, complied and led him to the rooms occupied by me, when the Alcalde flung about my books and papers, finding nothing which could in the slightest degree justify his search, the few books being all either in Hebrew or Arabic character (they consisted of the Mitchna and some commentaries on the Coran); he at last took up a large knife which lay on a chair and which I myself purchased some months previous at Santa Cruz in La Mancha as a curiosity—the place being famous for those knives—and expressed his determination to take it away as a prohibited article. The Escribano, however, cautioned him against doing so, and he flung it down. He now became very vociferous and attempted to force his way into some apartments occupied by the Ladies, my friends; but soon desisted and at last went away, after using some threatening words to my Moorish Servant. Late at night of the second day of my imprisonment, I was set at liberty by virtue of an order of the Captain General, given on application of the British Consul, after having been for thirty hours imprisoned amongst the worst felons of Andalusia, though to do them justice I must say that I experienced from them nothing but kindness and hospitality.
The above, Sir, is the correct statement of the affair which has now brought me to Madrid. What could have induced the Alcalde in question to practise such atrocious behaviour towards me I am at a loss to conjecture, unless he were instigated by certain enemies which I possess in Seville. However this may be, I now call upon you, as the Representative of the Government of which I am a Subject, to demand of the Minister of the Spanish Crown full and ample satisfaction for the various outrages detailed above. In conclusion, I must be permitted to add that I will submit to no compromise, but will never cease to claim justice until the culprit has received condign punishment.
I am, etc., etc., etc.
George Borrow.
Madrid (no date).
Recorded 6th December [1839].” [313]
Thus it happened that on 19th December Mr Brandram received the following letter:—
Prison of Seville, 25th Nov. 1839.
I write these lines, as you see, from the common prison of Seville, to which I was led yesterday, or rather dragged, neither for murder nor robbery nor debt, but simply for having endeavoured to obtain a passport for Cordoba, to which place I was going with my Jewish servant Hayim Ben-Attar.
When questioned by the Vice-Consul as to his authority for searching Borrow’s house, the Alcalde produced a paper purporting to be the deposition of an old woman to whom Borrow was alleged to have sold a Testament some ten days previously. The document Borrow pronounced a forgery and the statement untrue.
Borrow’s fellow-prisoners treated him with unbounded kindness and hospitality, and he was forced to confess that he had “never found himself amongst more quiet and well-behaved men.” Nothing shows more clearly the power of Borrow’s personality over rogues and vagabonds than the two periods spent in Spanish prisons—at Madrid and at Seville. Mr Brandram must have shuddered when he read Borrow’s letter telling him by what manner of men he was surrounded.
“What is their history?” he writes apropos of his fellow-prisoners. “The handsome black-haired man, who is now looking over my shoulder, is the celebrated thief, Pelacio, the most expert housebreaker and dexterous swindler in Spain—in a word, the modern Guzman D’alfarache. The brawny man who sits by the brasero of charcoal is Salvador, the highwayman of Ronda, who has committed a hundred murders. A fashionably dressed man, short and slight in person, is walking about the room: he wears immense whiskers and mustachios; he is one of that most singular race the Jews of Spain; he is imprisoned for counterfeiting money. He is an atheist; but, like a true Jew, the name which he most hates is that of Christ. Yet he is so quiet and civil, and they are all so quiet and civil, and it is that which most horrifies me, for quietness and civility in them seems so unnatural.” [315]
Such were the men who fraternised with an agent of a religious society and showed him not only civility but hospitality and kindness. It is open to question if they would have shown the same to any other unfortunate missionary. In all probability they recognised a fellow-vagabond, who was at much at issue with the social conventions of communities as they were with the laws of property.
On this occasion the period of Borrow’s imprisonment was brief. He was released late at night on 25th Nov., within thirty hours of his arrest, and he immediately set to work to think out a plan by which he could once more discomfit the Spanish authorities for this indignity to a British subject. He would proceed to Madrid without delay and put his case before the British Minister, at the same time he would “make preparations for leaving Spain as soon as possible.”
It was probably about this time (1839) that
“The Marqués de Santa Coloma met Borrow again at Seville. He had great difficulty in finding him out; though he was aware of the street in which he resided, no one knew him by name. At last, by dint of inquiry and description, some one exclaimed, ‘Oh! you mean el Brujo’ (the wizard), and he was directed to the house. He was admitted with great caution, and conducted through a lot of passages and stairs, till at last he was ushered into a handsomely furnished apartment in the ‘mirador,’ where Borrow was living with his wife and daughter. . . It is evident . . . that, to his Spanish friends at least, he thus called Mrs Clarke and her daughter Henrietta his wife and daughter: and the Marqués de Santa Coloma evidently believed that the young lady was Borrow’s own daughter, and not his step-daughter merely (!). At the time the roads from Seville to Madrid were very unsafe. Santa Coloma wished Borrow to join his party, who were going well armed. Borrow said he would be safe with his Gypsies. Both arrived without accident in Madrid; the Marqués’s party first. Borrow, on his arrival, told Santa Coloma that his Gypsy chief had led him by by-paths and mountains; that they had not slept in a village, nor seen a town the whole way.” [316]
It must be confessed that Mr Webster was none too reliable a witness, and it seems highly improbable that Borrow would wish to pass Mrs Clarke off as his wife before their marriage. The fact of their occupying the same house may have seemed to their Spanish friends compromising, as it unquestionably was; but had he spoken of Mrs Clarke as his wife, it would have left her not a vestige of reputation.
On arriving at Madrid Borrow found that Lord Clarendon’s successor, Mr Arthur Aston, had not yet arrived, he therefore presented his complaint to the Chargé d’Affaires, the Hon. G. S. S. Jerningham, who had succeeded Mr Sothern as private secretary. Mr Sothern had not yet left Madrid to take up his new post as First Secretary at Lisbon, and therefore presented Borrow to Mr Jerningham, by whom he was received with great kindness. He assured Mr Jerningham that for some time past he had given up distributing the Scriptures in Spain, and he merely claimed the privileges of a British subject and the protection of his Government. The First Secretary took up the case immediately, forwarding Borrow’s letter to Don Perez de Castro with a request for “proper steps to be taken, should Mr Borrow’s complaint . . . be considered by His Excellency as properly founded.” Borrow himself was doubtful as to whether he would obtain justice, “for I have against me,” he wrote to Mr Brandram (24th December), “the Canons of Seville; and all the arts of villany which they are so accustomed to practise will of course be used against me for the purpose of screening the ruffian who is their instrument. . . . I have been, my dear Sir, fighting with wild beasts.”
The rather quaint reply to Borrow’s charges was not forthcoming until he had left Spain and was living at Oulton. It runs: [317]
Madrid, 11th May 1840.
Sir,
Under date of 20th December last, Mr Perez de Castro informed Mr Jerningham that in order to answer satisfactorily his note of 8th December re complaint made by Borrow, he required a faithful report to be made. These have been stated by the Municipality of Seville to the Civil Governor of that City, and are as follows:—
“When Borrow meant to undertake his journey to Cadiz towards the end of last year, he applied to the section of public security for his Passport, for which purpose he ought to deliver his paper of residence which was given to him when he arrived at Seville. That paper he had not presented in its proper time to the Alcalde of his district, on which account this person had not been acquainted as he ought with his residence in the district, and as his Passport could not be issued in consequence of this document not being in order, Borrow addressed, through the medium of a Servant, to the house of the said district Alcalde that the defect might be remedied. That functionary refused to do so, founded on the reasons already stated; and for the purpose of overcoming his resistance he was offered a gratification, the Servant with that intent presenting half a dollar. The Alcalde, justly indignant, left his house to make the necessary complaint respecting their indecorous action when he met Borrow, who, surprised at the refusal of the Alcalde, expressed to him his astonishment, addressing insulting expressions not only against his person but against the authorities of Spain, who, he said, he was sure were to be bought at a very small price—crying on after this, Long live the Constitution, Death to the Religion, and Long live England. These and other insults gave rise to the Alcalde proceeding to his arrest and the assistance of the armed force of Veterans, and not of the National Militia, as Borrow supposed, making a detailed report to the Constitutional Alcalde, who forwarded it original to the Captain General of the Province as Judge Protector of Foreigners, leaving him under detention at his disposition. He did the same with another report transmitted by the said functionary, in which reference to a Lady who lived at the Gate of Xerez; he denounced Borrow as a seducer of youth in matters of Religion by facilitating to them the perusal of prohibited books, of which a copy, that was in the hands of the Ecclesiastical Governor, was likewise transmitted to the Captain General. These antecedents were sufficient to have authorised a summary to have been formed against Borrow, but the repeated supplications of the British Vice-Consul, Mr Williams, who among other things stated that Borrow laboured under fits of madness, had the effect of causing the above Constitutional Alcalde to forgive him the fault committed and recommend to the Captain General that the matter should be dropped, which was acceded to, and he was put at liberty. The above facts, official proofs of which exist in the Captain General’s Office, clearly disprove the statement of Borrow, who ungrateful for the generous hospitality which he has received, and for the consideration displayed towards him on account of his infirmity, and out of deference to the request of the British Vice-Consul, makes an unfounded complaint against the very authorities who have used attentions towards him which he is certainly not deserving; it being worthy of remark, in order to prove the bad faith of his procedure, that in his own exposé, although he disfigures facts at pleasure, using a language little decorous, he confesses part of his faults, such as the offering of money to pay, as he says, ‘the legal or extra-legal dues that might be exacted, and his having twice challenged the Alcalde.’
“I should consider myself wanting towards your enlightened sense of justice if, after the reasons given, I stopped to prove the just and prudent conduct of Seville authorities.
“Hope he will therefore be completely satisfied, especially after the want of exactitude on Borrow’s part.
From
Evaristo Perez De Castro.”
To Mr Aston. [319]
And so the matter ended. The Spanish authorities knew that they no longer had a Sir George Villiers to deal with, and had recourse to that trump card of weak and vacillating diplomatists—delay. Whatever Borrow’s offence, the method of his arrest and imprisonment was in itself unlawful.
It was Borrow’s intention on his return to England to endeavour to obtain an interview with some members of the House of Lords, in order to acquaint them with the manner in which Protestants were persecuted in Spain. They were debarred from the exercise of their religion from being married by Protestant rites, and the common privileges of burial were denied them. He was anxious for Protestant England, lest it should fall a victim to Popery. This fear of Rome was a very real one to Borrow. He marvelled at people’s blindness to the danger that was threatening them, and he even went so far as to entreat his friends at Earl Street “to drop all petty dissensions and to comport themselves like brothers” against their common enemy the Pope.
Unfortunately Borrow had shown to a number of friends one of his letters to Mr Brandram dealing with the Seville imprisonment, and had even allowed several copies of it to be taken “in order that an incorrect account of the affair might not get abroad.” The result was an article in a London newspaper containing remarks to the disparagement of other workers for the Gospel in Spain. Borrow disavowed all knowledge of these observations.
“I am not ashamed of the Methodists of Cadiz,” he assures Mr Brandram, “their conduct in many respects does them honor, nor do I accuse any one of fanaticism amongst our dear and worthy friends; but I cannot answer for the tittle-tattle of Madrid. Far be it from me to reflect upon any one, I am but too well aware of my own multitudinous imperfections and follies.” [320]
There is nothing more mysterious in Borrow’s life than his years of friendship with Mrs Clarke. He was never a woman’s man, but Mary Clarke seems to have awakened in him a very sincere regard. The ménage at Seville was a curious one, and both Borrow and Mrs Clarke should have seen that it was calculated to make people talk. There may have been a tacit understanding between them. Everything connected with their relations and courtship is very mysterious. Dr Knapp is scarcely just to Borrow or gracious to the woman he married, when he implies that it was merely a business arrangement on both sides. Mrs Clarke’s affairs required a man’s hand to administer them, and Borrow was prepared to give the man’s hand in exchange for an income. The engagement could scarcely have taken place in the middle of November 1839, as Dr Knapp states, for on the day of his arrest at Seville (24th Nov.) Borrow wrote:—
My dear Mrs Clarke,—Do not be alarmed, but I am at present in the prison, to which place the Alcalde del Barrio conducted me when I asked him to sign the Passport. If Phelipe is not already gone to the Consul, let Henrietta go now and show him this letter. When I asked the fellow his motives for not signing the Passport, he said if I did not go away he would carry me to prison. I dared him to do so, as I had done nothing; whereupon he led me here.—Yours truly,
George Borrow.
This is obviously not the letter of a man recently engaged to the woman who is to become his wife. On the other hand, Borrow may have been writing merely for the Consul’s eye.
On hearing the news of the engagement old Mrs Borrow wrote:—
“I am not surprised, my dear Mrs Clarke, at what you tell me, though I knew nothing of it. It put me in mind of the Revd. Flethers; you know they took time to consider. So far all is well. I shall now resign him to your care, and may you love and cherish him as much as I have done. I hope and trust that each will try to make the other happy. You will always have my prayers and best wishes. Give my kind love to dear George and tell him he is never out of my thoughts. I have much to say, but I cannot write. I shall be glad to see you all safe and well. Give my love to Henrietta; tell her I can sing ‘Gaily the Troubadour’; I only want the ‘guitar.’ [321] God bless you all.”
There is no doubt that a very strong friendship had existed between Mrs Clarke and Borrow during the whole time that he had been associated with the Bible Society. She it was who had been indirectly responsible for his introduction to Earl Street. It is idle to speculate what it was that led Mrs Clarke to select Seville as the place to which to fly from her enemies. There is, however, a marked significance in old Mrs Borrow’s words, “I am not surprised, my dear Mrs Clarke, at what you tell me.” Whatever his mother may have seen, there appears to have been no thought of marriage in Borrow’s mind when, on 29th September 1839, he wrote to Mr Brandram telling him of his wish to visit “China or particular parts of Africa.”
Borrow paid many tributes to his wife, not only in his letters, but in print, every one of which she seems thoroughly to have merited. “Of my wife,” he writes, [322] “I will merely say that she is a perfect paragon of wives—can make puddings and sweets and treacle posset, and is the best woman of business in East Anglia.” On another occasion he praises her for more general qualities, when he compares her to the good wife of the Triad, the perfect woman endowed with all the feminine virtues. His wife and “old Hen.” (Henrietta) were his “two loved ones,” and he subsequently shows in a score of ways how much they had become part of his life.
After his return to Seville, early in January, Borrow proceeded to get his “papers into some order.” There seems no doubt that this meant preparing The Zincali for publication. In the excitement and enthusiasm of authorship, and the pleasant company of Mrs and Miss Clarke, he seems to have been divinely unconscious that he was under orders to proceed home. Week after week passed without news of their Agent in Spain reaching Earl Street, and the Officials and Committee of the Bible Society became troubled to account for his non-appearance. The last letter from him had been received on 13th January. Early in March Mr Jackson wrote to Mr Brackenbury asking for news of him. A letter to Mr Williams at Seville was enclosed, which Mr Brackenbury had discretionary powers to withhold if he were able to supply the information himself. Two letters that Borrow had addressed to the Society it appears had gone astray, and as “one steamer . . . arrived after another and yet no news from Mr Borrow,” some apprehension began to manifest itself lest misfortune had befallen him. On the other hand, Borrow had heard nothing from the Society for five months, the long silence making him “very, very unhappy.”
In reply to Mr Brandram’s letter Borrow wrote:—
“I did not return to England immediately after my departure from Madrid for several reasons. First, there was my affair with the Alcalde still pending; second, I wished to get my papers into some order; third, I wished to effect a little more in the cause, though not in the way of distribution, as I have no books: moreover the house in which I resided was paid for and I was unwilling altogether to lose the money; I likewise dreaded an English winter, for I have lately been subjected to attacks, whether of gout or rheumatism I know not, which I believe were brought on by sitting, standing and sleeping in damp places during my wanderings in Spain. The Alcalde has lately been turned out of his situation, but I believe more on account of his being a Carlist than for his behaviour to me; that, however, is of little consequence, as I have long forgotten the affair.” [323a]
There was no longer any reason for delay; the English winter was over, he had one book nearly ready for publication and two others in a state of forwardness.
“I embark on the third of next month [April],” he continued, “and you will probably see me by the 16th. I wish very much to spend the remaining years of my life in the northern parts of China, as I think I have a call for those regions, and shall endeavour by every honourable means to effect my purpose.” [323b]
These words would seem to imply that his marriage with Mrs Clarke was by no means decided upon at the date he wrote, although during the previous month he had been in correspondence with Mr Brackenbury regarding Protestants in Spain being debarred from marrying. It is inconceivable that Mrs Clarke and her daughter contemplated living in the North of China; and equally unlikely that Mrs Clarke would marry a potential “absentee landlord,” or one who frankly confessed “I hope yet to die in the cause of my Redeemer.”
Sidi Habismilk had at first presented a grave problem; but Mr Brackenbury, who secured the passages on the steamer, arranged also for the Arab to be slung aboard the Steam-Packet. On 3rd April the whole party, including Hayim Ben Attar and Sidi Habismilk, boarded the Royal Adelaide bound for London.
Borrow never forgave Spain for its treatment of him, although some of the happiest years of his life had been spent there. “The Spaniards are a stupid, ungrateful set of ruffians,” he afterwards wrote, “and are utterly incapable of appreciating generosity or forbearance.” He piled up invective upon the unfortunate country. It was “the chosen land of the two fiends—assassination and murder,” where avarice and envy were the prevailing passions. It was the “country of error”; yet at the same time “the land of extraordinary characters.” As he saw its shores sinking beneath the horizon, he was mercifully denied the knowledge that never again was he to be so happily occupied as during the five years he had spent upon its soil distributing the Scriptures, and using a British Minister as a two-edged sword.
The party arrived in London on 16th April and put up at the Spread Eagle in Gracechurch Street. On 23rd April, at St Peter’s Church in Cornhill, the wedding took place. There were present as witnesses only Henrietta Clarke and John Pilgrim, the Norwich solicitor. In the Register the names appear as:—
“George Henry Borrow—of full age—bachelor—gentleman—of the City of Norwich—son of Thomas Borrow—Captain in the Army.
“Mary Clarke—of full age—widow—of Spread Eagle Inn, Gracechurch Street—daughter of Edmund Skepper—Esquire.”
On 2nd May an announcement of the marriage appeared in The Norfolk Chronicle. A few days later the party left for Oulton Cottage, and Borrow became a landed proprietor on a small scale in his much-loved East Anglia.
On 21st April Mr Brandram had written to Borrow the following letter:—
My dear Friend,—Your later communications have been referred to our Sub-Committee for General Purposes. After what you said yesterday in the Committee, I am hardly aware that anything can arise out of them. The door seems shut. The Sub-Committee meet on Friday. Will you wish to make any communications to them as to any ulterior views that may have occurred to yourself? I do not myself at present see any sphere open to which your services in connection with our Society can be transferred. . . . With best wishes—Believe me—Yours truly,
A. Brandram.
On 24th April, the day after Borrow’s wedding, the Sub-Committee duly met and
“Resolved that, upon mature consideration, it does not appear to this Sub-Committee that there is, at present, any opening for employing Mr Borrow beneficially as an Agent of the Society . . . and that it be recommended to the General Committee that the salary of Mr Borrow be paid up to the 10th June next.”
The Bible Society’s valediction, which appeared in the Thirty-Sixth Annual Report, read:—
“G. Borrow, Esq., one of the gentlemen referred to in former Reports as having so zealously exerted themselves on behalf of Spain, has just returned home, hopeless of further attempts at present to distribute the Scriptures in that country. Mr B. has succeeded, by almost incredible pains, and at no small cost and hazard, in selling during his last visit a few hundred copies of the Bible, and most that remained of the edition of the New Testament printed in Madrid.”
Thus ended George Borrow’s activities on behalf of the British and Foreign Bible Society, and incidentally the seven happiest and most active years of his life. On the whole the association had been honourable to all concerned. There had been moments of irritation and mistakes on both sides. It would be foolish to accuse the Society of deliberately planting obstacles in the path of its own agent; but the unfortunate championing of Lieutenant Graydon was the result of a very grave error of judgment. Borrow had no personal friends among the Committee, to whom the impetuous zeal of Graydon was more picturesque than the grave and deliberate caution of Borrow. The Officials and Committee alike saw in Graydon the ideal Reformer, rushing precipitately towards martyrdom, exposing Anti-Christ as he ran. Had Borrow been content to allow others to plead his cause, the history of his relations with the Bible Society would, in all probability, have been different. He felt himself a grievously injured man, who had suffered from what he considered to be the insane antics of another, and he was determined that Earl Street should know it. On the other hand, Mr Brandram does not appear to have understood Borrow. He made no attempt to humour him, to praise him for what he had done and the way in which he had done it. Praise was meat and drink to Borrow; it compensated him for what he had endured and encouraged him to further effort. He hungered for it, and when it did not come he grew discouraged and thought that those who employed him were not conscious of what he was suffering. Hence the long accounts of what he had undergone for the Gospel’s sake.
During his six years in Spain he had distributed nearly 5000 copies of the New Testament and 500 Bibles, also some hundreds of the Basque and Gypsy Gospel of St Luke. These figures seem insignificant beside those of Lieut. Graydon, who, on one occasion, sold as many as 1082 volumes in fourteen days, and in two years printed 13,000 Testaments and 3000 Bibles, distributing the larger part of them. During the year 1837 he circulated altogether between five and six thousand books. But there was no comparison between the work of the two men. Graydon had kept to the towns and cities on the south coast; Borrow’s methods were different. He circulated his books largely among villages and hamlets, where the population was sparse and the opportunities of distribution small. He had gone out into the highways, risking his life at every turn, penetrating into bandit-infested provinces in the throes of civil war, suffering incredible hardships and fatigues and, never sparing himself. Both men were earnest and eager; but the Bible Society favoured the wrong man—at least for its purposes. But for Lieut. Graydon, Borrow would in all probability have gone to China, and what a book he would have written, at least what letters, about the sealed East!
Borrow, however, had nothing to complain of. He had found occupation when he badly needed it, which indirectly was to bring him fame. He had been well paid for his services (during the seven years of his employment he drew some £2300 in salary and expenses), his £200 a year and expenses (in Spain) comparing very favourably with Mr Brandram’s £300 a year.
He was loyal to the Bible Society, both in word and thought. He honourably kept to himself the story of the Graydon dispute. He spoke of the Society with enthusiasm, exclaiming, “Oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow awakes in his old bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in Spain in the cause of religion and civilisation with the colours of that society in his hat.” [328a] In spite of the misunderstandings and the rebukes he could write fourteen years later that he “bade it adieu with feelings of love and admiration.” [328b] He “had done with Spain for ever, after doing for her all that lay in the power of a lone man, who had never in this world anything to depend upon, but God and his own slight strength.” [328c] In the preface to The Bible in Spain he pays a handsome tribute to both Rule and Graydon, thus showing that although he was a good hater, he could be magnanimous.
It has been stated that, during a portion of his association with the Bible Society, Borrow acted as a foreign correspondent for The Morning Herald. Dr Knapp has very satisfactorily disproved the statement, which the Rev. Wentworth Webster received from the Marqués de Santa Coloma. Either the Marqués or Mr Webster is responsible for the statement that Borrow was wrecked, instead of nearly wrecked, off Cape Finisterre. As the Marqués was a passenger on the boat, the mistake must be ascribed to Mr Webster. The further statement that Borrow was imprisoned at Pamplona by Quesada is scarcely more credible than that about the wreck. His imprisonment could not very well have taken place, as stated, in 1837–9, because General Quesada was killed in 1836. Mention is made of this foreign correspondent rumour only because it has been printed and reprinted. It may be that Borrow was imprisoned at Pamplona during the “Veiled Period”; there is certainly one imprisonment (according to his own statement) unaccounted for. It is curious how the fact first became impressed upon the Marqués’ mind, unless he had heard it from Borrow. It is quite likely that he confused the date.
It would be interesting to identify the two men whom Borrow describes in Lavengro as being at the offices of the Bible Society in Earl Street, when he sought to exchange for a Bible the old Apple-woman’s copy of Moll Flanders. “One was dressed in brown,” he writes, “and the other was dressed in black; both were tall men—he who was dressed in brown was thin, and had a particularly ill-natured countenance; the man dressed in black was bulky, his features were noble, but they were those of a lion.” [329a] Again, in The Romany Rye, he makes the man in black say with reference to the Bible Society:—“There is one fellow amongst them for whom we entertain a particular aversion: a big, burly parson, with the face of a lion, the voice of a buffalo, and a fist like a sledge-hammer.” [329b] Who these two worthies were it is impossible to say with any degree of certainty. Caroline Fox describes Andrew Brandram no further than that he “appeared before us once more with his shaggy eyebrows.” [329c] Mr Brandram was not thin and his countenance was not ill-natured.