The Life of George Borrow Part 35

The first sentence is very puzzling, and would seem to suggest that Borrow's moods were somehow or other a.s.sociated with outbursts against religion. "Be sure you BURN this, or do not leave it about,"

the old lady is admonished.

On the day following the ascent of Snowdon, Mrs Borrow and Henrietta returned to Llangollen by train, leaving Borrow free to pursue his wanderings. He eventually arrived at Llangollen on 6th September, by way of Carnarvon, Festiniog and Bala. After remaining another twenty days at Llangollen, he despatched his wife and stepdaughter home by rail. He then bought a small leather satchel, with a strap to sling it over his shoulder, packed in it a white linen s.h.i.+rt, a pair of worsted stockings, a razor and a prayer-book. Having had his boots resoled and his umbrella repaired, he left Llangollen for South Wales, upon an excursion which was to occupy three weeks. During the course of this expedition he was taken for many things, from a pork- jobber to Father Toban himself, as whom he p.r.o.nounced "the best Latin blessing I could remember" over two or three dozen Irish reapers to their entire satisfaction. Eventually he arrived at Chepstow, having learned a great deal about wild Wales.

One of the excursions that Borrow made from Bangor was to Llanfair in search of Gronwy, the birthplace of Gronwy Owen. He found in the long, low house an old woman and five children, descendants of the poet, who stared at him wonderingly. To each he gave a trifle.

Asking whether they could read, he was told that the eldest could read anything, whether Welsh or English. In Wild Wales he gives an account of the interview.

"'Can you write?' said I to the child [the eldest], a little stubby girl of about eight, with a broad flat red face and grey eyes, dressed in a chintz gown, a little bonnet on her head, and looking the image of notableness.

"The little maiden, who had never taken her eyes off of me for a moment during the whole time I had been in the room, at first made no answer; being, however, bid by her grandmother to speak, she at length answered in a soft voice, 'Medraf, I can.'

"'Then write your name in this book,' said I, taking out a pocket- book and a pencil, 'and write likewise that you are related to Gronwy Owen--and be sure you write in Welsh.'

"The little maiden very demurely took the book and pencil, and placing the former on the table wrote as follows:-

"'Ellen Jones yn perthyn o bell i gronow owen.' {417a}

"That is, 'Ellen Jones belonging, from afar off to Gronwy Owen.'"

{417b}

Ellen Jones is now Ellen Thomas, and she well remembers Borrow coming along the lane, where she was playing with some other children, and asking for the house of Gronwy Owen. Later, when she entered the house, she found him talking to her grandmother, who was a little deaf as described in Wild Wales. Mrs Thomas' recollection of Borrow is that he had the appearance of possessing great strength. He had "bright eyes and shabby dress, more like a merchant than a gentleman, or like a man come to buy cattle [others made the same mistake].

But, dear me! he did speak FUNNY Welsh," she remarked to a student of Borrow who sought her out, he could not p.r.o.nounce the 'll'

[p.r.o.nouncing the word "pell" as if it rhymed with tell, whereas it should be p.r.o.nounced something like "pelth"], and his voice was very high; but perhaps that was because my grandmother was deaf." He had plenty of words, but bad p.r.o.nunciation. William Thomas {418a} laughed many a time at him coming talking his funny Welsh to him, and said he was glad he knew a few words of Spanish to answer him with.

Borrow was, apparently, unconscious of any imperfection in his p.r.o.nunciation of the "ll". He has written: "'Had you much difficulty in acquiring the sound of the "ll"?' I think I hear the reader inquire. None whatever: the double l of the Welsh is by no means the terrible guttural which English people generally suppose it to be." {418b}

Mrs Thomas is now sixty-seven years of age (she was eleven and not eight at the time of Borrow's visit) and still preserves carefully wrapped up the book from which she read to the white-haired stranger.

The episode was not thought much of at the time, except by the child, whom it much excited. {418c}

It was in all probability during this, his first tour in Wales, that Borrow was lost on Cader Idris, and spent the whole of one night in wandering over the mountain vainly seeking a path. The next morning he arrived at the inn utterly exhausted. It was quite in keeping with Borrow's nature to suppress from his book all mention of this unpleasant adventure. {419a}

The Welsh holiday was unquestionably a success. Borrow's mind had been diverted from critics and his lost popularity. He had forgotten that in official quarters he had been overlooked. He was in the land of Ab Gwilym and Gronwy Owen. "There never was such a place for poets," he wrote; "you meet a poet, or the birthplace of a poet, everywhere." {419b} He was delighted with the simplicity of the people, and in no way offended by their persistent suspicion of all things Saxon. At least they knew their own poets; and he could not help comparing the Welsh labouring man who knew Huw Morris, with his Suffolk brother who had never heard of Beowulf or Chaucer. He discoursed with many people about their bards, surprising them by his intimate knowledge of the poets and the poetry of Wales. He found enthusiasm "never scoffed at by the n.o.ble simple-minded genuine Welsh, whatever treatment it may receive from the coa.r.s.e-hearted, sensual, selfish Saxon." {419c} Sometimes he was reminded "of the substantial yoemen of Cornwall, particularly . . . of my friends at Penquite." {419d} Wherever he went he experienced nothing but kindness and hospitality, and it delighted him to be taken for a c.u.mro, as was frequently the case.

What Borrow writes about his Welsh is rather contradictory.

Sometimes he represents himself as taken for a Welshman, at others as a foreigner speaking Welsh. "Oh, what a blessing it is to be able to speak Wels.h.!.+" {420a} he exclaims. He acknowledged that he could read Welsh with far more ease than he could speak it. There is absolutely no posing or endeavour to depict himself a perfect Welsh scholar, whose accent could not be distinguished from that of a native. The literary results of the Welsh holiday were four Note Books written in pencil, from which Wild Wales was subsequently written. Borrow was in Wales for nearly sixteen weeks (1st Aug.--16th November), of which about a third was devoted to expeditions on foot.

In the annual consultations about holidays, Borrow's was always the dominating voice. For the year 1855 the Isle of Man was chosen, because it attracted him as a land of legend and quaint customs and speech. Accordingly during the early days of September Mrs Borrow and Henrietta were comfortably settled at Douglas, and Borrow began to make excursions to various parts of the island. He explored every corner of it, conversing with the people in Manx, collecting ballads and old, smoke-stained carvel {420b} (or carol) books, of which he was successful in securing two examples. He discovered that the island possessed a veritable literature in these carvels, which were circulated in ma.n.u.script form among the neighbours of the writers.

The old runic inscriptions that he found on the tombstones exercised a great fascination over Borrow. He would spend hours, or even days (on one occasion as much as a week), in deciphering one of them.

Thirty years later he was remembered as an accurate, painstaking man.

His evenings were frequently occupied in translating into English the Manx poem Illiam Dhoo, or Brown William. He discovered among the Manx traditions much about Finn Ma Coul, or M'Coyle, who appears in The Romany Rye as a notability of Ireland. He ascended Snaefell, sought out the daughter of George Killey, the Manx poet, and had much talk with her, she taking him for a Manxman. The people of the island he liked.

"In the whole world," he wrote in his 'Note Books,' "there is not a more honest, kindly race than the genuine Manx. Towards strangers they exert unbounded hospitality without the slightest idea of receiving any compensation, and they are, whether men or women, at any time willing to go two or three miles over mountain and bog to put strangers into the right road."

During his stay in the Isle of Man, news reached Borrow of the death of a kinsman, William, son of Samuel Borrow, his cousin, a cooper at Devonport. William Borrow had gone to America, where he had won a prize for a new and wonderful application of steam. His death is said to have occurred as the result of mental fatigue. In this Borrow saw cause for grave complaint against the wretched English Aristocracy that forced talent out of the country by denying it employment or honour, which were all for their "connections and lick- spittles."

The holiday in the Isle of Man had resulted in two quarto note books, aggregating ninety-six pages, closely written in pencil. Again Borrow planned to write a book, just as he had done on the occasion of the Cornish visit. Nothing, however, came of it. Among his papers was found the following draft of a suggested t.i.tle-page:-

BAYR JAIRGEY AND GLION DOO THE RED PATH AND THE BLACK VALLEY WANDERINGS IN QUEST OF MANX LITERATURE

A curious feature of Mrs Borrow's correspondence is her friendly conspiracies, sometimes with John Murray, sometimes with Woodfall, the printer, asking them to send encouraging letters that shall hearten Borrow to greater efforts. On 26th November 1850 John Murray wrote to her: "I have determined on engraving [by W. Holl] Phillips'

portrait {422a} . . . as a frontispiece to it [Lavengro]. I trust that this will not be disagreeable to you and the author--in fact I do it in confident expectation that it will meet with YOUR a.s.sent; I do not ask Mr Borrow's leave, remember."

It must be borne in mind that Mrs Borrow had been in London a few days previously, in order to deliver to John Murray the ma.n.u.script of Lavengro. Mrs Borrow's reply to this letter is significant. With regard to the engraving, she writes (28th November), "I LIKE THE IDEA OF IT, and when Mr Borrow remarked that he did not wish it (as we expected he would) I reminded him that HIS leave WAS not asked."

Again, on 30th October 1852, Mrs Borrow wrote to Robert Cooke asking that either he or John Murray would write to Borrow enquiring as to his health, and progress with The Romany Rye, and how long it would be before the ma.n.u.script were ready for the printer. "Of course,"

she adds, "all this is in perfect confidence to Mr Murray and yourself as you BOTH of you know my truly excellent Husband well enough to be aware how much he every now and then requires an impetus to cause the large wheel to move round at a quicker pace . . . Oblige me by committing this to the flames, and write to him just as you would have done, without hearing A WORD FROM ME." On yet another occasion when she and Borrow were both in London, she writes to Cooke asking that either he "or Mr Murray will give my Husband a look, if it be only for a few minutes . . . He seems rather low. Do, NOT let this note remain on your table," she concludes, "or MENTION it."

If Borrow were a problem to his wife and to his publisher, he presented equal difficulties to the country folk about Oulton. To one he was "a missionary out of work," to another "a man who kep'

'isself to 'isself"; but to none was he the tired lion weary of the chase. "His great delight . . . was to plunge into the darkening mere at eventide, his great head and heavy shoulders ruddy in the rays of the sun. Here he hissed and roared and spluttered, sometimes frightening the eel-catcher sailing home in the half-light, and remembering suddenly school legends of river-sprites and monsters of the deep." {423a}

In the spring following his return from the Isle of Man, Borrow made numerous excursions on foot through East Anglia. He seemed too restless to remain long in one place. During a tramp from Yarmouth to Ely by way of Cromer, Holt, Lynn and Wisbech, he called upon Anna Gurney. {423b} His reason for doing so was that she was one of the three celebrities of the world he desired to see. The other two were Daniel O'Connell {423c} and Lamplighter (the sire of Phosphorus), Lord Berners winner of the Derby. Two of the world's notabilities had slipped through his fingers by reason of their deaths, but he was determined that Anna Gurney, who lived at North Repps, should not evade him. He gave her notice of his intention to call, and found her ready to receive him.

"When, according to his account, {424a} he had been but a very short time in her presence, she wheeled her chair round and reached her hand to one of her bookshelves and took down an Arabic grammar, and put it into his hand, asking for explanation of some difficult point, which he tried to decipher; but meanwhile she talked to him continuously; when, said he, 'I could not study the Arabic grammar and listen to her at the same time, so I threw down the book and ran out of the room.'"

It is said that Borrow ran until he reached Old Tucker's Inn at Cromer, where he ate "five excellent sausages" and found calm. He then went on to Sheringham and related the incident to the Upchers.

These lonely walking tours soothed Borrow's restless mind. He had constant change of scene, and his thoughts were diverted by the adventures of the roadside. He encountered many and interesting people, on one occasion an old man who remembered the fight between Painter and Oliver; at another time he saw a carter beating his horse which had fallen down. "Give him a pint of ale, and I will pay for it," counselled Borrow. After the second pint the beast got up and proceeded, "pulling merrily . . . with the other horses."

Ale was Borrow's sovereign remedy for the world's ills and wrongs.

It was by ale that he had been cured when the "Horrors" were upon him in the dingle. "Oh, genial and gladdening is the power of good ale, the true and proper drink of Englishmen," he exclaims after having heartened Jack Slingsby and his family. "He is not deserving of the name of Englishman," he continues, "who speaketh against ale, that is good ale." {425a} To John Murray (the Third) he wrote in his letter of sympathy on the death of his father: "Pray keep up your spirits, and that you may be able to do so, take long walks and drink plenty of Scotch ale with your dinner . . . G.o.d bless you."

He liked ale "with plenty of malt in it, and as little hop as well may be--ale at least two years old." {425b} The period of its maturity changed with his mood. In another place he gives nine or ten months as the ideal age. {425c} He was all for an Act of Parliament to force people to brew good ale. He not only drank good ale himself; but prescribed it as a universal elixir for man and beast. Hearing from

Elizabeth Harvey "of a lady who was attached to a gentleman," Borrow demanded bluntly, "Well, did he make her an offer?" "No," was the response. "Ah," Borrow replied with conviction, "if she had given him some good ale he would." {425d} He loved best old Burton, which, with '37 port, were his favourites; yet he would drink whatever ale the roadside-inn provided, as if to discipline his stomach. It has been said that he habitually drank "swipes," a thin cheap ale, because that was the drink of his gypsy friends; but Borrow's friends.h.i.+p certainly did not often involve him in anything so distasteful.

CHAPTER XXVII: THE ROMANY RYE. 1854-1859

Borrow was not a great correspondent, and he left behind him very few letters from distinguished men of his time. Among those few were several from Edward FitzGerald, whose character contrasted so strangely with that of the tempestuous Borrow. In 1856 FitzGerald wrote:-

31 GREAT PORTLAND STREET, LONDON, 27th October 1856.

My Dear Sir,--It is I who send you the new Turkish Dictionary [Redhouse's Turkish & English Dictionary] which ought to go by this Post; my reasons being that I bought it really only for the purpose of doing that little good to the spirited Publisher of the book (who thought when he began it that the [Crimean] War was to last), and I send it to you because I should be glad of your opinion, if you can give it. I am afraid that you will hardly condescend to USE it, for you abide in the old Meninsky; but if you WILL use it, I shall be very glad. I don't think _I_ ever shall; and so what is to be done with it now it is bought?

I don't know what Kerrich told you of my being too LAZY to go over to Yarmouth to see you a year ago. No such thing as that. I simply had doubts as to whether you would not rather remain unlookt for. I know I enjoyed my evening with you a month ago. I wanted to ask you to read some of the Northern Ballads too; but you shut the book.