NOVEMBER 1836–MAY 1837
BORROW remained in England for a month (3rd October/4th November), during
which time he conferred with the Committee and Officials at Earl Street
as to the future programme in Spain. On 4th November, having sent to his
mother £130 of the £150 he had drawn as salary, and promising to write to
Mr Brandram from Cadiz, he sailed from London in the steamer
_Manchester_, bound for Lisbon and Cadiz.
In a letter to his mother, he describes his fellow passengers as invalids
fleeing from the English winter. “Some of them are three parts gone with
consumption,” he writes, “some are ruptured, some have broken backs; I am
the only sound person in the ship, which is crowded to suffocation. I am
in a little hole of a berth where I can scarcely breathe, and every now
and then wet through.”
The horrors of the voyage from Falmouth to Lisbon he has described with
terrifying vividness; {185a} how the engines broke down and the vessel
was being driven on to Cape Finisterre; how all hope had been abandoned,
and the Captain had told the passengers of their impending fate; how the
wind suddenly “_veered right about_, and pushed us from the horrible
coast faster than it had previously driven us towards it.” {185b}
During the whole of that terrible night Borrow had remained on deck, all
the other passengers having been battened down below. He was almost
drowned in the seas that broke over the vessel, and, on one occasion, was
struck down by a water cask that had broken away from its lashings. Even
after he had escaped Cape Finisterre, the ordeal was not over; for the
ship was in a sinking condition, and fire broke out on board. Eventually
the engines were repaired, the fire extinguished, and Lisbon was reached
on the 13th, where Borrow landed with his water-soaked luggage, and found
on examination that the greater part of his clothes had been ruined. In
spite of this experience, he determined to continue his voyage to Cadiz
in the _Manchester_, probably for reasons of economy, indifferent to the
fact that she was utterly unseaworthy, and that most of the other
passengers had abandoned her. During his enforced stay in Lisbon, whilst
the ship was being patched up, Borrow saw Mr Wilby and made enquiry into
the state of the Society’s affairs in Portugal. Many changes had taken
place and the country was in a distracted state.
After a week’s delay at Lisbon the _Manchester_ continued her voyage to
Cadiz, where she arrived without further mishap on the 21st. During this
voyage a fellow passenger with Borrow was the Marqués de Santa Coloma.
“According to the expression of the Marqués, when they stepped on to the
quay at Cadiz, Borrow looked round, saw some Gitanos lounging there, said
something that the Marqués could not understand, and immediately ‘that
man became _une grappe de Gitanos_.’ They hung round his neck, clung to
his knees, seized his hands, kissed his feet, so that the Marqués hardly
liked to join his comrade again after such close embraces by so dirty a
company.” {186}
Borrow now found himself in his allotted field—unhappy, miserable,
distracted Spain. Gomez, the Carlist leader, had been sweeping through
Estremadura like a pestilence, and Borrow fully expected to find Seville
occupied by his banditti; but Carlists possessed no terrors for him.
Unless he could do something to heal the spiritual wounds of the wretched
country, he assured Mr Brandram, he would never again return to England.
On 1st December Mr Brandram wrote to Borrow expressing deep sympathy with
all he had been through, and adding: “If you go forward . . . we will
help you by prayer. If you retreat we shall welcome you cordially.” He
appears to have written before consulting with the Committee, who, on
hearing of the actual state of affairs in Spain, became filled with
misgiving and anxiety for the safety of their agent, who seemed to be
destitute of fear. Mr Brandram had been content for Borrow to go forward
if he so decided, but, as he wrote later, “your prospective dangers,
while they created an absorbing interest, were viewed in different lights
by the Committee,” who thought they had “no right to commit you to such
perils. My own feeling was that, while I could not urge you forward,
there were peculiarities in your history and character that I would not
keep you back if you were minded to go. A few felt with me—most,
however, thought that you should have been restrained.” {187} It was
decided therefore to forbid him to proceed on his hazardous adventure,
and accordingly a letter was addressed to him care of the British Consul
at Cadiz. If Borrow received this he disregarded the instructions it
contained.
Cadiz proved to be in a state of great confusion. It was reported that
numerous bands of Carlists were in the neighbourhood, and the whole city
was in a state of ferment in consequence. In the coffee-houses the din
of tongues was deafening; would-be orators, sometimes as many as six at
one time, sprang up upon chairs and tables and ventilated their political
views. The paramount, nay, the only, interest was not in the words of
Christ; but the probable doings of the Carlists.
On the night of his arrival Borrow was taken ill with what, at the time,
he thought to be cholera, and for some time in the little “cock-loft or
garret” that had been allotted to him at the over-crowded French hotel,
he was “in most acute pain, and terribly sick,” drinking oil mixed with
brandy. For two days he was so exhausted as to be able to do nothing.
On the morning of the 24th he embarked in a small Spanish steamer bound
for Seville, which was reached that same night. The sun had dissipated
the melancholy and stupor left by his illness, and by the time he arrived
at Seville he was repeating Latin verses and fragments of old Spanish
ballads to a brilliant moon. The condition of affairs at Seville was as
bad if not worse than at Cadiz. There was scarcely any communication
with the capital, the diligences no longer ran, and even the fearless
_arrieros_ (muleteers) declined to set out. Famine, plunder and murder
were let loose over the land. Bands of banditti robbed, tortured and
slew in the name of Don Carlos. They stripped the peasantry of all they
possessed, and the poor wretches in turn became brigands and preyed upon
those weaker than themselves. Through all this Borrow had to penetrate
in order to reach Madrid. Had the road been familiar to him he would
have performed the journey alone, dressed either as a beggar or as a
gypsy. It is obvious that he appreciated the hazardous nature of the
journey he was undertaking, for he asked Mr Brandram, in the event of his
death, to keep the news from old Mrs Borrow as long as possible and then
to go down to Norwich and break it to her himself.
At Seville Borrow encountered Baron Taylor, {188} whom he states that he
had first met at Bayonne (during the “veiled period”), and later in
Russia, beside the Bosphorus, and finally in the South of Ireland. Than
Baron Taylor there was no one for whom Borrow entertained “a greater
esteem and regard . . . There is a mystery about him which, wherever he
goes, serves not a little to increase the sensation naturally created by
his appearance and manner.” {189} Borrow was much attracted to this
mysterious personage, about whom nothing could be asserted “with
downright positiveness.”
From Seville Borrow proceeded to Cordoba, accompanied by “an elderly
person, a Genoese by birth,” whose acquaintance he had made and whom he
hoped later to employ in the distribution of the Testaments. Borrow had
hired a couple of miserable horses. The Genoese had not been in the
saddle for some thirty years, and he was an old man and timid. His horse
soon became aware of this, and neither whip nor spur could persuade it to
exert itself. When approaching night rendered it necessary to make a
special effort to hasten forward, the bridle of the discontented steed
had to be fastened to that of its fellow, which was then urged forward
“with spur and cudgel.” Both the Genoese and his mount protested against
such drastic measures, the one by entreaties to be permitted to dismount,
the other by attempting to fling itself down. The only notice Borrow
took of these protests was to spur and cudgel the more.
On the night of the third day the party arrived at Cordoba, and was
cordially welcomed by the Carlist innkeeper, who, although avowing
himself strictly neutral, confessed how great had been his pleasure at
welcoming the Carlists when they occupied the City a short time before.
It was at this inn that Borrow explained to the elderly Genoese, who had
indiscreetly resented his host’s disrespectful remarks about the young
Queen Isabel, how he invariably managed to preserve good relations with
all sorts of factions. “My good man,” he said, “I am invariably of the
politics of the people at whose table I sit, or beneath whose roof I
sleep; at least I never say anything which can lead them to suspect the
contrary; by pursuing which system I have more than once escaped a bloody
pillow, and having the wine I drank spiced with sublimate.” {190a}
Borrow remained at Cordoba much longer than he had intended, because of
the reports that reached him of the unsafe condition of the roads. He
sent back the old Genoese with the horses, and spent the time in
thoroughly examining the town and making acquaintances among its
inhabitants. At length, after a stay of ten or eleven days, despairing
of any improvement in the state of the country, he continued his journey
in the company of a _contrabandista_, temporarily retired from the
smuggling trade, from whom he hired two horses for the sum of forty-two
dollars. Borrow allowed no compunction to assail him as to the means he
employed when he was thoroughly convinced as to the worthiness of the end
he had in view. To further his projects he would cheerfully have
travelled with the Pope himself.
The journey to Madrid proved dismal in the extreme. The _contrabandista_
was sullen and gloomy, despite the fact that his horses had been insured
against loss and the handsome fee he was to receive for his services.
The Despeñaperros in the Sierra Morena through which Borrow had to pass,
had, even in times of peace, a most evil reputation; but by great good
luck for Borrow, the local banditti had during the previous day
“committed a dreadful robbery and murder by which they sacked 40,000
_reals_.” {190b} They were in all probability too busily occupied in
dividing their spoil to watch for other travellers. Another factor that
was much in Borrow’s favour was a change in the weather.
“Suddenly the Lord breathed forth a frozen blast,” Borrow writes,
“the severity of which was almost intolerable. No human being but
ourselves ventured forth. We traversed snow-covered plains, and
passed through villages and towns to all appearance deserted. The
robbers kept close to their caves and hovels, but the cold nearly
killed us. We reached Aranjuez late on Christmas day, and I got into
the house of an Englishman, where I swallowed nearly a pint of
brandy: {191a} it affected me no more than warm water.” {191b}
Borrow arrived at Madrid on 26th December, having almost by a miracle
avoided death or capture by the human wolves that infested the country.
He took up his quarters at 16 Calle de Santiago at the house of Maria
Díaz, who was to prove so loyal a friend during many critical periods of
his work in Spain. His first care was to call upon the British Minister,
and enquire if he considered it safe to proceed with the printing without
special application to the new Government. Mr Villiers’ answer is
interesting, as showing how thoroughly he had taken Borrow under his
protection.
“You obtained the permission of the Government of Isturitz,” he
replied, “which was a much less liberal one than the present; I am a
witness to the promise made to you by the former Ministers, which I
consider sufficient; you had best commence and complete the work as
soon as possible without any fresh application, and should anyone
attempt to interrupt you, you have only to come to me, whom you may
command at any time.” {191c}
Having saved the Bible Society 9000 _reals_ in its paper bill alone,
{191d} Borrow proceeded to arrange for the printing. He had already
opened negotiations with Charles Wood, who was associated with Andréas
Borrégo, {192a} the most fashionable printer in Madrid, who not only had
the best printing-presses in Spain, but had been specially recommended by
Isturitz. It had been tentatively arranged that an edition of 5000
copies of the New Testament should be printed from the version of Father
Felipe Scio de San Miguel, confessor to Ferdinand VII., without notes or
commentaries, and delivered within three months.
Remembering the advice of Isturitz, Borrow determined to entrust the work
to Borrégo, including the binding. He was the Government printer, and,
furthermore, enjoyed the good opinion of Mr Villiers. Having persuaded
Borrégo to reduce his price to 10 _reals_ a sheet, he placed the order.
It was agreed that the work should be completed in ten weeks from 20th
January.
Each sheet was to be passed by Borrow. As a matter of fact he read every
word three times; but in order to insure absolute accuracy, he engaged
the services of Dr Usoz, “the first scholar in Spain,” {192b} who was to
be responsible for the final revision, leaving the question of the
remuneration to the generosity of the Bible Society. The result of all
this care was that, according to Borrow the edition exhibited scarcely
one typographical error. {192c}
The question of systematic distribution had next to be considered. After
much musing and cogitation, Borrow came to the conclusion that the only
satisfactory method was for him to “ride forth from Madrid into the
wildest parts of Spain,” where the word is most wanted and where it seems
next to an impossibility to introduce it, and this he proposed to the
Committee.
“I will take with me 1200 copies,” he wrote, {193} “which I will
engage to dispose of for little or much to the wild people of the
wild regions which I intend to visit; as for the rest of the edition,
it must be disposed of, if possible, in a different way—I may say the
usual way; part must be entrusted to booksellers, part to
colporteurs, and a depôt must be established at Madrid. Such work is
every person’s work, and to anyone may be confided the execution of
it; it is a mere affair of trade. What I wish to be employed in is
what, I am well aware, no other individual will undertake to do:
namely, to scatter the Word upon the mountains, amongst the valleys
and the inmost recesses of the worst and most dangerous parts of
Spain, where the people are more fierce, fanatic and, in a word,
Carlist.”
In the same letter Borrow shows how thoroughly he understood his own
character when he wrote:
“I shall not feel at all surprised should it [the plan] be
disapproved of all-together; but I wish it to be understood that in
that event I could do nothing further than see the work through the
press, as I am confident that whatever ardour and zeal I at present
feel in the cause would desert me immediately, and that I should
neither be able nor willing to execute anything which might be
suggested. I wish to engage in nothing which would not allow me to
depend entirely on myself. It would be heart-breaking to me to
remain at Madrid expending the Society’s money, with almost the
certainty of being informed eventually by the booksellers and their
correspondents that the work has no sale. In a word, to make sure
that some copies find their way among the people, I must be permitted
to carry them to the people myself.”
He goes on to inform Mr Brandram that in anticipation of the acquiescence
of the Committee in his schemes, he has purchased, for about £12, one of
the smuggler’s horses, which he has preferred to a mule, on account of
the expense of the popular hybrid, and also because of its enormous
appetite, to satisfy which two pecks of barley and a proportionate amount
of straw are required each twenty-four hours, as the beast must be fed
every four hours, day and night. Thus the members of the Committee
learned something about the ways of the mule.
The response to this suggestion was a resolution passed by the
Sub-Committee for General Purposes, by which Borrow was permitted to
enter into correspondence with the principal booksellers and other
persons favourable to the dissemination of the Scriptures. In a covering
letter {194a} Mr Brandram very pertinently enquired, “Can the people in
these wilds read?” Whilst not wishing to put a final negative to the
proposal, the Secretary asked if there were no middle course. Could
Borrow not establish a depôt at some principal place, and from it make
excursions occupying two or three days each, “instead of devoting
yourself wholly to the wild people.”
Borrow assured Mr Brandram that he had misunderstood. The care of “the
wild people” was only to be incidental on his visits to towns and
villages to establish depôts or agencies. “On my way,” he wrote, “I
intended to visit the secret and secluded spots amongst the rugged hills
and mountains, and to talk to the people, after my manner, of Christ.”
{194b}
It was on 3rd April that Borrow had received the letter from Earl Street
authorising him “to undertake the tour suggested . . . for the purpose of
circulating the Spanish New Testament in some of the principal cities of
Spain.” He was requested to write as frequently as possible, giving an
account of his adventures. At the same time Mr Brandram wrote: “You will
perceive by the Resolution that nearly all your requests are complied
with. You have authority to go forth with your horses, and may you have
a prosperous journey . . . Pray for wisdom to discern between
presumptuousness and want of Faith.” {195a}
The printing of the 5000 copies of the New Testament in Spanish was
completed early in April, but there was considerable delay over the
binding. The actual date of publication was 1st May. The work had been
well done, and was “allowed by people who have perused it, and with no
friendly feeling, to be one of the most correct works that have ever
issued from the press in Spain, and to be an exceedingly favourable
specimen of typography and paper.” {195b}
In addition to the _contrabandista’s_ horse, Borrow had acquired “a black
Andalusian stallion of great size and strength, and capable of performing
a journey of a hundred leagues in a week’s time.” {195c} In spite of his
unbroken state, Borrow decided to purchase the animal, relying upon “a
cargo of bibles” to reduce him to obedience. It was with this black
Andalusian that he created a sensation by riding about Madrid, “with a
Russian skin for a saddle, and without stirrups. Altogether making so
conspicuous a figure that [the Marqués de] Santa Coloma hesitated, and it
needed all his courage to be seen riding with him. At this period Borrow
spent a good deal of money and lived very freely (i.e., luxuriously) in
Spain. From the point of view of the Marqués, a Spanish Roman Catholic,
Borrow was excessively bigoted, and fond of attacking Roman Catholics and
Catholicism. He evidently, however, liked him as a companion; but he
says Borrow never, as far as he saw or could learn, spoke of religion to
his Gypsy friends, and that he soon noticed his difference of attitude
towards them. He was often going to the British Embassy, and he thinks
was considered a great bore there.” {195d}
The unanimous advice of Borrow’s friends, Protestant and Roman Catholic,
was “that for the present I should proceed with the utmost caution, but
without concealing the object of my mission.” {196a} He was to avoid
offending people’s prejudices and endeavour everywhere to keep on good
terms with the clergy, “at least one-third of whom are known to be
anxious for the dissemination of the Word of God, though at the same time
unwilling to separate themselves from the discipline and ceremonials of
Rome.” {196b}
Thus equipped with sage counsel, Borrow was just about to start upon his
journey into the North, when he found it necessary to dismiss his servant
owing to misconduct. This caused delay. Through Mr O’Shea, the banker,
he got to know Antonio Buchini, the Greek of Constantinople, who, of all
the strange characters Borrow had met he considered “the most
surprising.” {196c} Antonio’s vices were sufficiently obvious to
discourage anyone from attempting to discover his virtues. He loved
change, quarrelled with everybody, masters, mistresses, and
fellow-servants. Borrow engaged him; but looked to the future with
misgiving. Antonio unquestionably had his bad points; yet he was a
treasure compared with the Spaniard whom he succeeded. This man was much
given to drink and was always engaged in some quarrel. He drew his
terrible knife, such as all Spaniards carry, upon all who offended him.
On one occasion Borrow saved from his wrath a poor maid-servant who had
incurred his ire by burning a herring she was toasting for him.
Antonio’s virtues comprised an unquestioned honesty and devotion, and on
the whole he was a desirable servant in a country where such virtues were
extremely rare.
It was not until 15th May that Borrow, accompanied by Antonio, was able
to get away from Madrid. A few days previously he had contracted “a
severe cold which terminated in a shrieking, disagreeable cough.” This,
following on a fortnight’s attack of influenza, proved difficult to shake
off. Finding himself scarcely able to stand, he at length appealed to a
barber-surgeon, who drew 16 oz. of blood, assuring his patient that on
the following day he would be well enough to start.
That same evening Mr Villiers sent round to Borrow’s lodgings informing
him that he had decided to help him by every means in his power. He
announced his intention of purchasing a large number of the Testaments,
and despatching them to the various British Consuls in Spain, with
instructions “to employ all the means which their official situation
should afford them to circulate the books in question, and to assure
their being noticed.” {197a} They were also to render every assistance
in their power to Borrow “as a friend of Mr Villiers, and a person in the
success of whose enterprise he himself took the warmest interest.” {197b}
Mr Villiers’ interest in Borrow’s mission seems to have led him into a
diplomatic indiscretion. Borrow himself confesses that he could scarcely
believe his ears. Although assured of the British Minister’s friendly
attitude, he “could never expect that he would come forward in so noble,
and to say the least of it, considering his high diplomatic situation, so
bold and decided a manner.” {197c} This act of friendliness becomes a
personal tribute to Borrow, when it is remembered that at first Mr
Villiers had been by no means well disposed towards the Bible Society.
Before leaving Madrid, Borrow had circularised all the principal
booksellers, offering to supply the New Testament at fifteen _reals_ a
copy, the actual cost price; but he was not sanguine as to the result,
for he found the Spaniard “short-sighted and . . . so utterly
unacquainted with the rudiments of business.” {198} Advertisements had
been inserted in all the principal newspapers stating that the
booksellers of Madrid were now in a position to supply the New Testament
in Spanish, unencumbered by obscuring notes and comments. Borrow also
provided for an advertisement to be inserted each week during his
absence, which he anticipated would be about five months. After that he
knew not what would happen—there was always China.