MAY–DECEMBER 1839
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, 25_th_ _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.”