IN EASTERN EUROPE
In 1844 Borrow set out for the most distant holiday that he was ever to
undertake. Passing through London in March 1844, he came under the
critical eye of Elizabeth Rigby, afterwards Lady Eastlake, that
formidable critic who four years later--in 1848--wrote the cruel review
of _Jane Eyre_ in _The Quarterly_ that gave so much pain to Charlotte
Brontë. She was not a nice woman. These sharp, 'clever' women-critics
rarely are; and Borrow never made a pleasant impression when such women
came across his path--instance Harriet Martineau, Frances Cobbe, and
Agnes Strickland. We should sympathise with him, and not count it for a
limitation, as some of his biographers have done. The future Lady
Eastlake thus disposes of Borrow in her one reference to him:
_March 20._--Borrow came in the evening; now a fine man, but a
most disagreeable one; a kind of character that would be most
dangerous in rebellious times--one that would suffer or
persecute to the utmost. His face is expressive of
strong-headed determination.[167]
Quoting this description of Borrow, Dr. Knapp describes it as
'shallow'--for 'he was one of the kindest of men, as my documents
show.' The description is shallow enough, because the writer had no kind
of comprehension of Borrow, but then, perhaps, his champion had not.
Borrow was neither one of the 'kindest of men' nor the reverse. He was a
good hater and a whole-hearted lover, and to be thus is to fill a
certain uncomfortable but not discreditable place in the scheme of
things. About a month later Borrow was on the way to the East,
travelling by Paris and Vienna. From Paris he wrote to Mr. John Murray
that Vidocq 'wished much to have a copy of my _Gypsies in Spain_,' but
suspects the Frenchman of desiring to produce a compressed translation.
Will Mr. Murray have the book translated into French? he asks, and so
circumvent his wily friend.[168] In June he is in Buda Pesth, whence he
wrote to his wife:
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
PESTH, HUNGARY, _14th June 1844._
MY DEAREST CARRETA,--I was so glad to get your letter which
reached me about nine days ago; on receiving it, I instantly
made preparations for quitting Vienna, but owing to two or
three things which delayed me, I did not get away till the
20th; I hope that you received the last letter which I sent, as
I doubt not that you are all anxious to hear from me. You
cannot think how anxious I am to get back to you, but since I
am already come so far, it will not do to return before my
object is accomplished. Heaven knows that I do not travel for
travelling's sake, having a widely different object in view. I
came from Vienna here down the Danube, but I daresay I shall
not go farther by the river, but shall travel through the
country to Bucharest in Wallachia, which is the next place I
intend to visit; but Hungary is a widely different country to
Austria, not at all civilised, no coaches, etc., but only carts
and wagons; however, it is all the same thing to me as I am
quite used to rough it; Bucharest is about three hundred miles
from here; the country, as I have said before, is wild, but the
people are quite harmless--it is only in Spain that any danger
is to be feared from your fellow creatures. In Bucharest I
shall probably stay a fortnight. I have a letter to a French
gentleman there from Baron Taylor. Pesth is very much like
Edinburgh--there is an old and a new town, and it is only the
latter which is called Pesth, the name of the old is Buda,
which stands on the side of an enormous mountain overlooking
the new town, the Danube running between. The two towns
together contain about 120,000 inhabitants; I delivered the
letter which dear Woodfall was kind enough to send; it was to a
person, a Scotchman, who is superintending in the building of
the chain bridge over the Danube; he is a very nice person, and
has shown me every kind of civility; indeed, every person here
is very civil; yesterday I dined at the house of a rich Greek;
the dinner was magnificent, the only drawback was that they
pressed me too much to eat and drink; there was a deal of
champagne, and they would make me drink it till I was almost
sick, for it is a wine that I do not like, being far too sweet.
Since I have been here I have bathed twice in the Danube, and
find myself much the better for it; I both sleep and eat better
than I did. I have also been about another chapter, and get on
tolerably well; were I not so particular I should get on
faster, but I wish that everything that I write in this next be
first-rate. Tell Mama that this chapter begins with a dialogue
between her and my father; I have likewise contrived to bring
in the poor old dog in a manner which I think will be
interesting. I began this letter some days ago, but have been
so pleasantly occupied that I have made little progress till
now. Clarke, poor fellow, does not know how to make enough of
me. He says he could scarcely believe his eyes when he first
received the letter, as he has just got _The Bible in Spain_
from England, and was reading it. This is the 17th, and in a
few days I start for a place called Debreczen, from whence I
shall proceed gradually on my journey. The next letter which
you receive will probably be from Transylvania, the one after
that from Bucharest, and the third D.V. from Constantinople. If
you like you may write to Constantinople, directing it to the
care of the English Ambassador, but be sure to pay the
postage.
Before I left Vienna Baron Hammer, the great Orientalist,
called upon me; his wife was just dead, poor thing, which
prevented him showing me all the civility which he would
otherwise have done. He took me to the Imperial Library. Both
my books were there, _Gypsies_ and _Bible_. He likewise
procured me a ticket to see the Imperial treasure. (Tell
Henrietta that I saw there the diamond of Charles the Bold; it
is as large as a walnut.) I likewise saw the finest opal, as I
suppose, in the world; it was the size of a middling pear;
there was likewise a hyacinth as big as a swan's egg; I
likewise saw a pearl so large that they had wrought the figure
of a cock out of it, and the cock was somewhat more than an
inch high, but the thing which struck me most was the sword of
Tamerlane, generally called Timour the Tartar; both the hilt
and scabbard were richly adorned with diamonds and emeralds,
but I thought more of the man than I did of them, for he was
the greatest conqueror the world ever saw (I have spoken of him
in _Lavengro_ in the chapter about David Haggart).
Nevertheless, although I have seen all these fine things, I
shall be glad to get back to my Carreta and my darling mother
and to dear Hen. From Debreczen I hope to write to kind dear
Woodfall, and to Lord from Constantinople. I must likewise
write to Hasfeld. The mulet of thirty pounds upon Russian
passports is only intended for the subjects of Russia. I see by
the journals that the Emperor has been in England; I wonder
what he is come about; however, the less I say about that the
better, as I shall soon be in his country. Tell Hen that I have
got her a large piece of Austrian gold money, worth about
forty-two shillings; it is quite new and very handsome;
considerably wider than the Spanish ounce, only not near so
thick, as might be expected, being of considerable less value;
when I get to Constantinople I will endeavour to get a Turkish
gold coin. I have also got a new Austrian silver dollar and a
half one; these are rather cumbersome, and I don't care much
about them--as for the large gold coin, I carry it in my
pocket-book, which has been of great use to me hitherto. I have
not yet lost anything, only a pocket handkerchief or two as
usual; but I was obliged to buy two other shirts at Vienna; the
weather is so hot, that it is quite necessary to change them
every other day; they were beautiful linen ones, and I think
you will like them when you see. I shall be so glad to get
home and continue, if possible, my old occupation. I hope my
next book will sell; one comfort is that nothing like it has
ever been published before. I hope you all get on comfortably,
and that you catch some fish. I hope my dear mother is well,
and that she will continue with you till the end of July at
least; ah! that is my month, I was born in it, it is the
pleasantest month in the year; would to God that my fate had
worn as pleasant an aspect as the month in which I was born.
God bless you all. Write to me, _to the care of the British
Embassy_, Constantinople. Kind remembrances to Pilgrim.
In the intervening journey between Pesth and Constantinople he must have
talked long and wandered far and wide among the gypsies, for Charles L.
Brace in his _Hungary in 1851_ gives us a glimpse of him at Grosswardein
holding conversation with the gypsies:
They described his appearance--his tall, lank, muscular
form--and mentioned that he had been much in Spain, and I saw
that it must be that most ubiquitous of travellers, Mr. Borrow.
The four following letters require no comment:
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
DEBRECZEN, HUNGARY, _8th July 1844._
MY DARLING CARRETA,--I write to you from Debreczen, a town in
the heart of Hungary, where I have been for the last fortnight
with the exception of three days during which I was making a
journey to Tokay, which is about forty miles distant. My reason
for staying here so long was my liking the place where I have
experienced every kind of hospitality; almost all the people in
these parts are Protestants, and they are so fond of the very
name of Englishmen that when one arrives they scarcely know how
to make enough of him; it is well the place is so remote that
very few are ever seen here, perhaps not oftener than once in
ten years, for if some of our scamps and swell mob were once to
find their way there the good people of Hungary would soon
cease to have much respect for the English in general; as it
is they think that they are all men of honour and accomplished
gentlemen whom it becomes them to receive well in order that
they may receive from them lessons in civilisation; I wonder
what they would think if they were to meet such fellows as
Squarem and others whom I could mention. I find my knowledge of
languages here of great use, and the people are astonished to
hear me speak French, Italian, German, Russian, and
occasionally Gypsy. I have already met with several Gypsies;
those who live abroad in the wildernesses are quite black; the
more civilised wander about as musicians, playing on the
fiddle, at which they are very expert, they speak the same
languages as those in England, with slight variations, and upon
the whole they understand me very well. Amongst other places I
have been to Tokay, where I drank some of the wine. I am
endeavouring to bring two or three bottles to England, for I
thought of my mother and yourself and Hen., and I have got a
little wooden case made; it is very sweet and of a pale straw
colour; whether I shall be able to manage it I do not know;
however, I shall make the attempt. At Tokay the wine is only
two shillings the bottle, and I have a great desire that you
should taste some of it. I sincerely hope that we shall soon
all meet together in health and peace. I shall be glad enough
to get home, but since I am come so far it is as well to see as
much as possible. Would you think it, the Bishop of Debreczen
came to see me the other day and escorted me about the town,
followed by all the professors of the college; this was done
merely because I was an Englishman and a Protestant, for here
they are almost all of the reformed religion and full of love
and enthusiasm for it. It is probable that you will hear from
Woodfall in a day or two; the day before yesterday I wrote to
him and begged him to write to you to let you know, as I am
fearful of a letter miscarrying and your being uneasy. This is
unfortunately post day and I must send away the letter in a
very little time, so that I cannot say all to you that I could
wish; I shall stay here about a week longer, and from here
shall make the best of my way to Transylvania and Bucharest; I
shall stay at Bucharest about a fortnight, and shall then dash
off for Constantinople--I shan't stay there long--but when once
there it matters not as it is a civilised country from which
start steamers to any part where you may want to go. I hope to
receive a letter from you there. You cannot imagine what
pleasure I felt when I got your last. Oh, it was such a comfort
to me! I shall have much to tell you when I get back. Yesterday
I went to see a poor wretch who is about to be hanged; he
committed a murder here two years ago, and the day after
to-morrow he is to be executed--they expose the people here who
are to suffer three days previous to their execution--I found
him in a small apartment guarded by soldiers, with hundreds of
people staring at him through the door and the windows; I was
admitted into the room as I went with two officers; he had an
enormous chain about his waist and his feet were manacled; he
sat smoking a pipe; he was, however, very penitent, and said
that he deserved to die, as well he might; he had murdered four
people, beating out their brains with a club; he was without
work, and requested of an honest man here to receive him into
his house one night until the morning. In the middle of the
night he got up, and with his brother, who was with him, killed
every person in the house and then plundered it; two days
after, he was taken; his brother died in prison; I gave him a
little money, and the gentleman who was with me gave him some
good advice; he looked most like a wild beast, a huge mantle of
skin covered his body; for nine months he had not seen the
daylight; but now he is brought out into a nice clean
apartment, and allowed to have everything he asks for, meat,
wine, tobacco--nothing is refused him during these last three
days. I cannot help thinking that it is a great cruelty to keep
people so long in so horrid a situation; it is two years nearly
since he has been condemned. Do not be anxious if you do not
hear from me regularly for some time. There is no escort post
in the countries to which I am going. God bless my mother,
yourself, and Hen.
G. B.
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
HERMANSTADT, _July 30, 1844._
MY DEAREST CARRETA,--I write to you a line or two from this
place; it is close upon the frontier of Wallachia. I hope to be
in Bucharest in a few days--I have stopped here for a day owing
to some difficulty in getting horses--I shall hasten onward as
quick as possible. In Bucharest there is an English Consul, so
that I shall feel more at home than I do here. I am only a few
miles now from the termination of the Austrian dominions, their
extent is enormous, the whole length of Hungary and
Transylvania; I shall only stay a few days in Bucharest and
shall then dash off straight for Constantinople; I have no time
to lose as there is a high ridge of mountains to cross called
the Balkans, where the winter commences at the beginning of
September. I thought you would be glad to hear from me, on
which account I write. I sent off a letter about a week ago
from Klausenburg, which I hope you will receive. I have written
various times from Hungary, though whether the letters have
reached you is more than I can say. I wrote to Woodfall from
Debreczen. I have often told you how glad I shall be to get
home and see you again. If I have tarried, it has only been
because I wished to see and learn as much as I could, for it
was no use coming to such a distance for nothing. By the time I
return I shall have made a most enormous journey, such as very
few have made. The place from which I write is very romantic,
being situated at the foot of a ridge of enormous mountains
which extend to the clouds, they look higher than the Pyrenees.
My health, thank God, is very good. I bathed to-day and feel
all the better for it; I hope you are getting on well, and that
all our dear family is comfortable. I hope my dear mother is
well. Oh, it is so pleasant to hope that I am still not alone
in the world, and that there are those who love and care for me
and pray for me. I shall be very glad to get to Constantinople,
as from there there is no difficulty; and a great part of the
way to Russia is by sea, and when I am in Russia I am almost at
home. I shall write to you again from Bucharest if it please
God. It is not much more than eighty miles from here, but the
way lies over the mountains, so that the journey will take
three or four days. We travel here in tilted carts drawn by
ponies; the carts are without springs, so that one is terribly
shaken. It is, however, very healthy, especially when one has a
strong constitution. The carts are chiefly made of sticks and
wickerwork; they are, of course, very slight, and indeed if
they were not so they would soon go to pieces owing to the
jolting. I read your little book every morning; it is true that
I am sometimes wrong with respect to the date, but I soon get
right again; oh, I shall be so glad to see you and my mother
and old Hen. and Lucy and the whole dear circle. I hope Crups
is well, and the horse. Oh, I shall be so glad to come back.
God bless you, my heart's darling, and dear Hen.; kiss her for
me, and my mother.
GEORGE BORROW.
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
BUCHAREST, _August 5, 1844._
MY DEAREST CARRETA,--I write you a few lines from the house of
the Consul, Mr. Colquhoun, to inform you that I arrived at
Bucharest quite safe: the post leaves to-day, and Mr. C. has
kindly permitted me to send a note along with the official
despatches. I am quite well, thank God, but I thought you would
like to hear from me. Bucharest is in the province of Wallachia
and close upon the Turkish frontier. I shall remain here a week
or two as I find the place a very interesting one; then I shall
proceed to Constantinople. I wrote to you from Hermanstadt last
week and the week previous from Clausenburgh, and before I
leave I shall write again, and not so briefly as now. I have
experienced every possible attention from Mr. C., who is a very
delightful person, and indeed everybody is very kind and
attentive. I hope sincerely that you and Hen. are quite well
and happy, and also my dear mother. God bless you, dearest.
GEORGE BORROW.
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
BUCHAREST, _August 14, 1844._
MY DARLING CARRETA,--To-morrow or the next day I leave
Bucharest for Constantinople. I wrote to you on my arrival a
few days ago, and promise to write again before my departure. I
shall not be sorry to get to Constantinople, as from thence I
can go where-ever I think proper without any difficulty. Since
I have been here, Mr. Colquhoun, the British Consul-General,
has shown me every civility, and upon the whole I have not
passed the time disagreeably. I have been chiefly occupied of
late in rubbing up my Turkish a little, which I had almost
forgotten; there was a time when I wrote it better than any
other language. It is coming again rapidly, and I make no doubt
that in a little time I should speak it almost as well as
Spanish, for I understand the groundwork. In Hungary and
Germany I picked up some curious books, which will help to pass
the time at home when I have nothing better to do. It is a long
way from here to Constantinople, and it is probable that I
shall be fifteen or sixteen days on the journey, as I do not
intend to travel very fast. It is possible that I shall stay a
day or two at Adrianople, which is half way. If you should not
hear from me for some time don't be alarmed, as it is possible
that I shall have no opportunities of writing till I get to
Constantinople. Bucharest, where I am now, is close on the
Turkish frontier, being only half a day's journey. Since I have
been here, I have bought a Tartar dress and a couple of Turkish
shirts. I have done so in order not to be stared at as I pass
along. It is very beautiful and by no means dear. Yesterday I
wrote to M. Since I have been here I have seen some English
newspapers, and see that chap H. has got in with M. Perhaps his
recommendation was that he had once insulted us. However, God
only knows. I think I had never much confidence in M. I can
read countenances as you know, and have always believed him to
be selfish and insincere. I, however, care nothing about him,
and will not allow, D.V., any conduct of his to disturb me. I
shall be glad to get home, and if I can but settle down a
little, I feel that I can accomplish something great. I hope
that my dear mother is well, and that you are all well. God
bless you. It is something to think that since I have been away
I have to a certain extent accomplished what I went about. I am
stronger and better and hardier, my cough has left me, there is
only occasionally a little huskiness in the throat. I have also
increased my stock of languages, and my imagination is
brightened, Bucharest is a strange place with much grandeur and
much filth. Since I have been here I have dined almost every
day with Mr. C., who wants me to have an apartment in his
house. I thought it, however, better to be at an inn, though
filthy. I have also dined once at the Russian Consul-General's,
whom I knew in Russia. Now God bless you my heart's darling;
kiss also Hen., write to my mother, and remember me to all
friends.
G. BORROW.
The best letter that I have of this journey, and indeed the best letter
of Borrow's that I have read, is one from Constantinople to his
wife--the only letter by him from that city:
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
CONSTANTINOPLE, 16_th September 1844._
MY DARLING CARRETA,--I am about to leave Constantinople and to
return home. I have given up the idea of going to Russia; I
find that if I go to Odessa I shall have to remain in
quarantine for fourteen days, which I have no inclination to
do; I am, moreover, anxious to get home, being quite tired of
wandering, and desirous of being once more with my loved ones.
This is a most interesting place, but unfortunately it is
extremely dear. The Turks have no inns, and I am here at an
English one, at which, though everything is comfortable, the
prices are very high. To-day is Monday, and next Friday I
purpose starting for Salonica in a steamboat--Salonica is in
Albania. I shall then cross Albania, a journey of about three
hundred miles, and get to Corfu, from which I can either get to
England across Italy and down the Rhine, or by way of
Marseilles and across France. I shall not make any stay in
Italy if I go there, as I have nothing to see there. I shall be
so glad to be at home with you once again, and to see my dear
mother and Hen. Tell Hen. that I picked up for her in one of
the bazaars a curious Armenian coin; it is silver, small, but
thick, with a most curious inscription upon it. I gave fifteen
piastres for it. I hope it and the rest will get safe to
England. I have bought a chest, which I intend to send by sea,
and I have picked up a great many books and other things, and I
wish to travel light; I shall, therefore, only take a bag with
a few clothes and shirts. It is possible that I shall be at
home soon after your receiving this, or at most three weeks
after. I hope to write to you again from Corfu, which is a
British island with a British garrison in it, like Gibraltar;
the English newspapers came last week. I see those wretched
French cannot let us alone, they want to go to war; well, let
them; they richly deserve a good drubbing. The people here are
very kind in their way, but home is home, especially such a one
as mine, with true hearts to welcome me. Oh, I was so glad to
get your letters; they were rather of a distant date, it is
true, but they quite revived me. I hope you are all well, and
my dear mother. Since I have been here I have written to Mr.
Lord. I was glad to hear that he has written to Hen. I hope
Lucy is well; pray remember me most kindly to her, and tell her
that I hope to see her soon. I count so of getting into my
summer-house again, and sitting down to write; I have arranged
my book in my mind, and though it will take me a great deal of
trouble to write it, I feel that when it is written it will be
first-rate. My journey, with God's help, has done me a great
deal of good. I am stronger than I was, and I can now sleep. I
intend to draw on England for forty or fifty pounds; if I don't
want the whole of it, it will be all the same. I have still
some money left, but I have no wish to be stopped on my journey
for want of it. I am sorry about what you told me respecting
the railway, sorry that the old coach is driven off the road. I
shall patronise it as little as possible, but stick to the old
route and Thurton George. What a number of poor people will
these railroads deprive of their bread. I am grieved at what
you say about poor M.; he can take her into custody, however,
and oblige her to support the children; such is law, though the
property may have been secured to her, she can be compelled to
do that. Tell Hen. that there is a mosque here, called the
mosque of Sultan Bajazet; it is full of sacred pigeons; there
is a corner of the court to which the creatures flock to be
fed, like bees, by hundreds and thousands; they are not at all
afraid, as they are never killed. Every place where they can
roost is covered with them, their impudence is great; they
sprang originally from two pigeons brought from Asia by the
Emperor of Constantinople. They are of a deep blue. God bless
you, dearest.
G. B.
He returned home by way of Venice and Rome as the following two letters
indicate:
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
VENICE, _22nd Octr. 1844._
MY DEAREST CARRETA,--I arrived this day at Venice, and though
I am exceedingly tired I hasten to write a line to inform you
of my well-being. I am now making for home as fast as possible,
and I have now nothing to detain me. Since I wrote to you last
I have been again in quarantine for two days and a half at
Trieste, but I am glad to say that I shall no longer be
detained on that account. I was obliged to go to Trieste,
though it was much out of my way, otherwise I must have
remained I know not how long in Corfu, waiting for a direct
conveyance. After my liberation I only stopped a day at Corfu
in order that I might lose no more time, though I really wished
to tarry there a little longer, the people were so kind. On the
day of my liberation, I had four invitations to dinner from the
officers. I, however, made the most of my time, and escorted by
one Captain Northcott, of the Rifles, went over the
fortifications, which are most magnificent. I saw everything
that I well could, and shall never forget the kindness with
which I was treated. The next day I went to Trieste in a
steamer, down the whole length of the Adriatic. I was horribly
unwell, for the Adriatic is a bad sea, and very dangerous; the
weather was also very rough; after stopping at Trieste a day,
besides the quarantine, I left for Venice, and here I am, and
hope to be on my route again the day after to-morrow. I shall
now hurry through Italy by way of Ancona, Rome, and Civita
Vecchia to Marseilles in France and from Marseilles to London,
in not more than six days' journey. Oh, I shall be so glad to
get back to you and my mother (I hope she is alive and well)
and Hen. I am glad to hear that we are not to have a war with
those silly people, the French. The idea made me very uneasy,
for I thought how near Oulton lay to the coast. You cannot
imagine what a magnificent old town Venice is; it is clearly
the finest in Italy, although in decay; it stands upon islands
in the sea, and in many places is intersected with canals. The
Grand Canal is four miles long, lined with palaces on either
side. I, however, shall be glad to leave it, for there is no
place to me like Oulton, where live two of my dear ones. I have
told you that I am very tired, so that I cannot write much
more, and I am presently going to bed, but I am sure that you
will be glad to hear from me, however little I may write. I
think I told you in my last letter that I had been to the top
of Mount Olympus in Thessaly. Tell Hen. that I saw a whole herd
of wild deer bounding down the cliffs, the noise they made was
like thunder; I also saw an enormous eagle--one of Jupiter's
birds, his real eagles, for, according to the Grecian
mythology, Olympus was his favourite haunt. I don't know what
it was then, but at present the most wild savage place I ever
saw; an immense way up I came to a forest of pines; half of
them were broken by thunderbolts, snapped in the middle, and
the ruins lying around in the most hideous confusion; some had
been blasted from top to bottom and stood naked, black, and
charred, in indescribable horridness; Jupiter was the god of
thunder, and he still seems to haunt Olympus. The worst is
there is little water, so that a person might almost perish
there of thirst; the snow-water, however, when it runs into the
hollows is the most delicious beverage ever tasted--the snow,
however, is very high up. My next letter, I hope, will be from
Marseilles, and I hope to be there in a very few days. Now, God
bless you, my dearest; write to my mother, and kiss Hen., and
remember me kindly to Lucy and the Atkinses.
G. B.
To Mrs. George Borrow, Oulton, Lowestoft
ROME, _1 Nov. 1844._
MY DEAREST CARRETA,--My last letter was from Ancona; the
present is, as you see, from Rome. From Ancona I likewise wrote
to Woodfall requesting he would send a letter of credit for
twelve or fifteen pounds, directing to the care of the British
Consul at Marseilles. I hope you received your letter and that
he received his, as by the time I get to Marseilles I shall be
in want of money by reason of the roundabout way I have been
obliged to come. I am quite well, thank God, and hope to leave
here in a day or two. It is close by the sea, and France is
close by, but I am afraid I shall be obliged to wait some days
at Marseilles before I shall get the letter, as the post goes
direct from no part of Italy, though it is not more than six
days' journey, or seven at most, from Ancona to London. It was
that wretched quarantine at Corfu that has been the cause of
all this delay, as it caused me to lose the passage by the
steamer [original torn here] Ancona, which forced me to go
round by Trieste and Venice, five hundred miles out of my way,
at a considerable expense. Oh, I shall be so glad to get home.
As I told you before, I am quite well; indeed, in better health
than I have been for years, but it is very vexatious to be
stopped in the manner I have been. God bless you, my darling.
Write to my mother and kiss her.
G. BORROW.
FOOTNOTES:
[167] _Journals and Correspondence of Lady Eastlake_, edited by her
nephew, Charles Eastlake Smith, vol. i. p. 124. John Murray, 1895.
[168] _Life of Borrow_ by Herbert Jenkins, p. 361.