ST. PETERSBURG AND JOHN P. HASFELD
Borrow travelled by way of Hamburg and Lübeck to Travemünde, whence he
went by sea to St. Petersburg, where he arrived on the twentieth of
August 1833. He was back in London in September 1835, and thus it will
be seen that he spent two years in Russia. After the hard life he had
led, everything was now rose-coloured. 'Petersburg is the finest city in
the world,' he wrote to Mr. Jowett; 'neither London nor Paris nor any
other European capital which I have visited has sufficient pretensions
to enter into comparison with it in respect to beauty and grandeur.' But
the striking thing about Borrow in these early years was his capacity
for making friends. He had not been a week in St. Petersburg before he
had gained the regard of one, William Glen, who, in 1825, had been
engaged by the Bible Society to translate the Old Testament into
Persian. The clever Scot, of whom Borrow was informed by a competent
judge that he was 'a Persian scholar of the first water,' was probably
too heretical for the Society which recalled him, much to his chagrin.
'He is a very learned man, but of very simple and unassuming manners,'
wrote Borrow to Jowett.[100] His version of the _Psalms_ appeared in
1830, and of _Proverbs_ in 1831. Thus he was going home in despair, but
seems to have had good talk on the way with Borrow in St. Petersburg. In
1845 his complete Old Testament in Persian appeared in Edinburgh. This
William Glen has been confused with another William Glen, a law student,
who taught Carlyle Greek, but they had nothing in common. Borrow and
Carlyle could not possibly have had friends in common. Borrow was drawn
towards this William Glen by his enthusiasm for the Persian language.
But Glen departed out of his life very quickly. Hasfeld, who entered it
about the same time, was to stay longer. Hasfeld was a Dane, now
thirty-three years of age, who, after a period in the Foreign Office at
Copenhagen, had come to St. Petersburg as an interpreter to the Danish
Legation, but made quite a good income as a professor of European
languages in cadet schools and elsewhere. The English language and
literature would seem to have been his favourite topic. His friendship
for Borrow was a great factor in Borrow's life in Russia and elsewhere.
If Borrow's letters to Hasfeld should ever turn up, they will prove the
best that he wrote. Hasfeld's letters to Borrow were preserved by him.
Three of them are in my possession. Others were secured by Dr. Knapp,
who made far too little use of them. They are all written in Danish on
foreign notepaper: flowery, grandiloquent productions we may admit, but
if we may judge a man by his correspondents, we have a revelation of a
more human Borrow than the correspondence with the friends at Earl
Street reveals:
ST. PETERSBURG, _6/18 November 1836._
MY DEAR FRIEND,--Much water has run through the Neva since I
last wrote to you, my last letter was dated 5/17th April; the
last letter I received from you was dated Madrid, 23rd May, and
I now see with regret that it is still unanswered; it is,
however, a good thing that I have not written as often to you
as I have thought about you, for otherwise you would have
received a couple of letters daily, because the sun never sets
without you, my lean friend, entering into my imagination. I
received the Spanish letter a day or two before I left for
Stockholm, and it made the journey with me, for it was in my
mind to send you an epistle from Svea's capital, but there were
so many petty hindrances that I was nearly forgetting myself,
let alone correspondence. I lived in Stockholm as if each day
were to be my last, swam in champagne, or rested in girls'
embraces. You doubtless blush for me; you may do so, but don't
think that that conviction will murder my almost shameless
candour, the only virtue which I possess, in a superfluous
degree. In Sweden I tried to be lovable, and succeeded, to the
astonishment of myself and everybody else. I reaped the reward
on the most beautiful lips, which only too often had to
complain that the fascinating Dane was faithless like the foam
of the sea and the ice of spring. Every wrinkle which
seriousness had impressed on my face vanished in joy and
smiles; my frozen heart melted and pulsed with the rapid beat
of gladness; in short, I was not recognisable. Now I have come
back to my old wrinkles, and make sacrifice again on the altar
of friendship, and when the incense, this letter, reaches you,
then prove to me your pleasure, wherever you may be, and let an
echo of friendship's voice resound from Granada's Alhambra or
Sahara's deserts. But I know that you, good soul, will write
and give me great pleasure by informing me that you are happy
and well; when I get a letter from you my heart rejoices, and I
feel as if I were happy, and that is what happiness consists
of. Therefore, let your soldierlike letters march promptly to
their place of arms--paper--and move in close columns to St.
Petersburg, where they will find warm winter quarters. I have
received a letter from my correspondent in London, Mr. Edward
Thomas Allan, No. 11 North Audley St.; he informs me that my
manuscript has been promenading about, calling on publishers
without having been well received; some of them would not even
look at it, because it smelt of Russian leather; others kept it
for three or six weeks and sent it back with 'Thanks for the
loan.' They probably used it to get rid of the moth out of
their old clothes. It first went to Longman and Co.'s,
Paternoster Row; Bull of Hollis St.; Saunders and Otley,
Conduit St.; John Murray of Albemarle St., who kept it for
three weeks; and finally it went to Bentley of New Burlington
St., who kept it for SIX weeks and returned it; now it is to
pay a visit to a Mr. Colburn, and if he won't have the
abandoned child, I will myself care for it. If this finds you
in London, which is quite possible, see whether you can do
anything for me in this matter. Thank God, I shall not buy
bread with the shillings I perhaps may get for a work which has
cost me seventy nights, for I cannot work during the day. In
_The Athenænum_,[101] No. 436, issued on the 3rd March this
year, you will find an article which I wrote, and in which you
are referred to; in the same paper you will also find an
extract from my translation. I hope that article will meet with
your approbation. Ivan Semionewitch sends his kind regards to
you. I dare not write any more, for then I should make the
letter a double one, and it may perhaps go after you to the
continent; if it reaches you in England, write AT ONCE to your
sincere friend,
J. P. HASFELD.
My address is, Stieglitz and Co., St. Petersburg.
ST. PETERSBURG, _9th/21st July 1842._
DEAR FRIEND,--I do not know how I shall begin, for you have
been a long time without any news from me, and the fault is
mine, for the last letter was from you; as a matter of fact, I
did produce a long letter for you last year in September, but
you did not get it, because it was too long to send by post and
I had no other opportunity, so that, as I am almost tired of
the letter, you shall, nevertheless, get it one day, for
perhaps you will find something interesting in it; I cannot do
so, for I never like to read over my own letters. Six days ago
I commenced my old hermit life; my sisters left on the 3rd/15th
July, and are now, with God's help, in Denmark. They left with
the French steamer _Amsterdam_, and had two Russian ladies with
them, who are to spend a few months with us and visit the sea
watering-places. These ladies are the Misses Koladkin, and have
learnt English from me, and became my sisters' friends as soon
as they could understand each other. My sisters have also made
such good progress in your language that they would be able to
arouse your astonishment. They read and understand everything
in English, and thank you very much for the pleasure you gave
them with your 'Targum'; they know how to appreciate 'King
Christian stood by the high mast,' and everything which you
have translated of languages with which they are acquainted.
They have not had more than sixty real lessons in English.
After they had taken ten lessons, I began, to their great
despair, to speak English, and only gave them a Danish
translation when it was absolutely necessary. The result was
that they became so accustomed to English that it scarcely ever
occurs to them to speak Danish together; when one cannot get
away from me one must learn from me. The brothers and sisters
remaining behind are now also to go to school when they get
home, for they have recognised how pleasant it is to speak a
language which servants and those around one do not understand.
During all the winter my dearest thought was how, this summer,
I was going to visit my long, good friend, who was previously
lean and who is now fat, and how I should let him fatten me a
little, so as to be able to withstand better the long winter in
Russia; I would then in the autumn, like the bears, go into my
winter lair fat and sleek, and of all these romantic thoughts
none has materialised, but I have always had the joy of
thinking them and of continuing them; I can feel that I smile
when such ideas run through my mind. I am convinced that if I
had nothing else to do than to employ my mind with pleasant
thoughts, I should become fat on thoughts alone. The principal
reason why this real pleasure journey had to be postponed, was
that my eldest sister, Hanna, became ill about Easter, and it
was not until the end of June that she was well enough to
travel. I will not speak about the confusion which a sick lady
can cause in a bachelor's house, occasionally I almost lost my
patience. For the amount of roubles which that illness cost I
could very well have travelled to America and back again to St.
Petersburg; I have, however, the consolation in my reasonable
trouble that the money which the doctor and chemist have
received was well spent. The lady got about again after she had
caused me and Augusta just as much pain, if not more, than she
herself suffered. Perhaps you know how amiable people are when
they suffer from liver trouble; I hope you may never get it. I
am not anxious to have it either, for you may do what the devil
you like for such persons, and even then they are not
satisfied. We have had great festivals here by reason of the
Emperor's marriage; I did not move a step to see the pageantry;
moreover, it is difficult to find anything fresh in it which
would afford me enjoyment; I have seen illuminations and
fireworks, the only attractive thing there was must have been
the King of Prussia; but as I do not know that good man, I have
not very great interest in him either; nor, so I am told, did
he ask for me, and he went away without troubling himself in
the slightest about me; it was a good thing that I did not
bother him.
J. P. H.
ST. PETERSBURG, _26th April/8th May 1858._
DEAR FRIEND,--I thank you for your friendly letter of the 12th
April, and also for the invitation to visit you. I am thinking
of leaving Russia soon, perhaps permanently, for twenty-seven
years are enough of this climate. It is as yet undecided when I
leave, for it depends on business matters which must be
settled, but I hope it will be soon. What I shall do I do not
yet know either, but I shall have enough to live on; perhaps I
shall settle down in Denmark. It is very probable that I shall
come to London in the summer, and then I shall soon be at
Yarmouth with you, my old true friend. It was a good thing that
you at last wrote, for it would have been too bad to extend
your disinclination to write letters even to me. The last
period one stays in a country is strange, and I have many
persons whom I have to separate from. If you want anything done
in Russia, let me know promptly; when I am in movement I will
write, so that you may know where I am, and what has become of
me. I have been ill nearly all the winter, but now feel daily
better, and when I get on the water I shall soon be well. We
have already had hot and thundery weather, but it has now
become cool again. I have already sold the greater part of my
furniture, and am living in furnished apartments which cost me
seventy roubles per month; I shall soon be tired of that. I am
expecting a letter from Denmark which will settle matters, and
then I can get ready and spread my wings to get out into the
world, for this is not the world, but Russia. I see you have
changed houses, for last year you lived at No. 37. With kindest
regards to your dear ones, I am, dear friend, yours sincerely,
JOHN P. HASFELD.[102]
FOOTNOTES:
[100] Darlow's _George Borrow's Letters to the Bible Society_, page 76.
There are twenty letters written by Borrow from Russia to the Bible
Society, contained in T. H. Darlow's _Letters of George Borrow to the
British and Foreign Bible Society_, several of which, in the original
manuscripts, are in my possession. There are as many also in Knapp's
_Life of Borrow_, and these last are far more interesting, being
addressed to his mother and other friends. I have several other letters
concerned with Borrow's Bible Society work in Russia, but they are not
inspiring. Borrow's correspondence with Hasfeld, of which Knapp gives us
glimpses, is more bracing, and the two or three letters from that
admirable Dane that are in my collection I am glad to print here.
[101] In the _Athenæum_ for March 5, 1836, there is a short, interesting
letter, dated from St. Petersburg, signed J. P. H. This was obviously
written by Hasfeld. 'Here your journal is found in every well furnished
library,' he writes, 'and yet not a passing word do you ever bestow upon
us,' and then, to the extent of nearly five columns, he discourses upon
the present state of Russian literature, and has very much to say about
his friend George Borrow:
'Will it be thought ultra-barbarian if I mention that Mr. George Borrow
concluded, in the autumn, the publication of the New Testament in the
Mandchou language? Remember, if you please, that he was sent here for
the express purpose by the British and Foreign Bible Society of London.
The translation was made for the Society by Mr. Lipóftsof, a gentleman
in the service of the Russian Department of Foreign Affairs, who has
spent the greater part of an industrious life in Peking and the East. 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
Mandchou 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.'
Then Hasfeld goes on to describe Borrow's small volume, _Targum_: 'The
exquisite delicacy with which he has caught and rendered the beauties of
his well-chosen originals,' he says, 'is a proof of his learning and
genius. The work is a pearl in literature, and, like pearls, it derives
value from its scarcity, for the whole edition was limited to about a
hundred copies.' Then Hasfeld gives two poems from the book, which
really justify his eulogy, for the poetic quality of _Targum_ has not
had justice done to it by Borrow's later critics.
[102] The name is frequently spelt 'Hasfeldt,' but I have followed the
spelling not only of Hasfeld's signature in his letters in my
possession, but also of the printed addressed envelope which he was in
the habit of forwarding to his friends in his letters.