“THE ROMANY RYE”
GEORGE BORROW’S three most important books had all a very interesting
history. We have seen the processes by which _The Bible in Spain_ was
built up from note-books and letters. We have seen further the most
curious apprenticeship by which _Lavengro_ came into existence. The most
distinctly English book—at least in a certain absence of
cosmopolitanism—that Victorian literature produced was to a great extent
written on scraps of paper during a prolonged Continental tour which
included Constantinople and Budapest. In _Lavengro_ we have only half a
book, the whole work, which included what came to be published as _The
Romany Rye_, having been intended to appear in four volumes. The first
volume was written in 1843, the second in 1845, after the Continental
tour, which is made use of in the description of the Hungarian, and the
third volume in the years between 1845 and 1848. Then in 1852 Borrow
wrote out an “advertisement” of a fourth volume, which runs as follows:
Shortly will be published in one volume. Price 10s. _The Rommany
Rye_, Being the fourth volume of _Lavengro_. By George Borrow,
author of _The Bible in Spain_.
But this volume did not make an appearance “shortly.” Its author was far
too much offended with the critics, too disheartened it may be to care to
offer himself again for their gibes. The years rolled on, much of the
time being spent at Yarmouth, a little of it at Oulton. There was a
visit to Cornwall in 1854, and another to Wales in the same year. The
Isle of Man was selected for a holiday in 1855, and not until 1857 did
_The Romany Rye_ appear. The book was now in two volumes, and we see
that the word Romany had dropped an “m”:
The Romany Rye: A Sequel to “Lavengro.” By George Borrow, author of
“The Bible in Spain,” “The Gypsies of Spain,” etc., “Fear God, and
take your own part.” In Two Volumes. London: John Murray, Albemarle
Street, 1857.
We are introduced once more to many old favourites, to Petulengro, to the
Man in Black, and above all to Isopel Berners. The incidents of
_Lavengro_ are supposed to have taken place between the 24th May, 1825,
and the 18th July of that year. In _The Romany Rye_ the incidents
apparently occur between 19th July and 3rd August, 1825. In the opinion
of that most eminent of gypsy experts, Mr. John Sampson, the whole of the
episodes in the five volumes occurred in seventy-two days. Mr. Sampson
agrees with Dr. Knapp in locating Mumper’s Dingle in Momber or Monmer
Lane, Willenhall, Shropshire. The dingle has disappeared—it is now
occupied by the Monmer Lane Ironworks—but you may still find Dingle
Bridge and Dingle Lane. The book has added to the glamour of gypsydom,
and to the interest in the gypsies which we all derive from _Lavengro_,
but Mr. Sampson makes short work of Borrow’s gypsy learning on its
philological side. “No gypsy,” he says, “ever uses _chal_ or _engro_ as
a separate word, or talks of the _dukkering dook_ or of _penning a
dukkerin_.” “Borrow’s genders are perversely incorrect”; and “Romany”—a
word which can never get out of our language, let philologists say what
they will—should have been “Romani.” “‘Haarsträubend’ is the fitting
epithet,” says Mr. Sampson, “which an Oriental scholar, Professor Richard
Pischel of Berlin, finds to describe Borrow’s etymologies.” But all this
is very unimportant, and the book remains in the whole of its forty-seven
chapters not one whit less a joy to us than does its predecessor
_Lavengro_, with its visions of gypsies and highwaymen and boxers.
But then there is its “Appendix.” That appendix of eleven petulant
chapters undoubtedly did Borrow harm in his day and generation. Now his
fame is too great, and his genius too firmly established for these
strange dissertations on men and things to offer anything but amusement
or edification. They reveal, for example, the singularly non-literary
character of this great man of letters. Much—too much—has been made of
his dislike of Walter Scott and his writings. As a matter of fact Borrow
tells us that he admired Scott both as a prose writer and as a poet.
“Since Scott he had read no modern writer. Scott was greater than
Homer,” he told Frances Cobbe. But he takes occasion to condemn his
“Charlie o’er the water nonsense,” and declares that his love of and
sympathy with certain periods and incidents have made for sympathy with
what he always calls “Popery.” Well, looking at the matter from an
entirely opposite point of view, Cardinal Newman declared that the
writings of Scott had had no inconsiderable influence in directing his
mind towards the Church of Rome.
During the first quarter of this century a great poet was raised up
in the North, who, whatever were his defects, has contributed by his
works, in prose and verse, to prepare men for some closer and more
practical approximation to Catholic truth. The general need of
something deeper and more attractive than what had offered itself
elsewhere may be considered to have led to his popularity; and by
means of his popularity he re-acted on his readers, stimulating their
mental thirst, feeding their hopes, setting before them visions,
which, when once seen, are not easily forgotten, and silently
indoctrinating them with nobler ideas, which might afterwards be
appealed to as first principles.
And thus we see that Borrow had a certain prescience in this matter. But
Borrow, in good truth, cared little for modern English literature. His
heart was entirely with the poets of other lands—the Scandinavians and
the Kelts. In Virgil he apparently took little interest, nor in the
great poetry of Greece, Rome and England, although we find a reference to
Theocritus and Dante in his books. Fortunately for his fame he had read
_Gil Blas_, _Don Quixote_, and, above all, _Robinson Crusoe_, which last
book, first read as a boy of six, coloured his whole life. Defoe and
Fielding and Bunyan were the English authors to whom he owed most. Of
Byron he has quaint things to say, and of Wordsworth things that are
neither quaint nor wise. We recall the man in the field in the
twenty-second chapter of _The Romany Rye_ who used Wordsworth’s poetry as
a soporific. And throughout his life Borrow’s position towards his
contemporaries in literature was ever contemptuous. He makes no mention
of Carlyle or Ruskin or Matthew Arnold, and they in their turn, it may be
added, make no mention of him or of his works. Thackeray he snubbed on
one of the few occasions they met, and Browning and Tennyson were alike
unrevealed to him. Borrow indeed stands quite apart from the great
literature of a period in which he was a striking and individual figure.
Lacking appreciation in this sphere of work, he wrote of “the
contemptible trade of author,” counting it less creditable than that of a
jockey.
But all this is a digression from the progress of our narrative of the
advent of _The Romany Rye_. The book was published in an edition of 1000
copies in April, 1857, and it took thirty years to dispose of 3750
copies. Not more than 2000 copies of his book were sold in Great Britain
during the twenty-three remaining years of Borrow’s life. What wonder
that he was embittered by his failure! The reviews were far from
favourable, although Mr. Elwin wrote not unkindly in an article in the
_Quarterly Review_ called “Roving Life in England.” No critic, however,
was as severe as _The Athenæum_, which had called _Lavengro_ “balderdash”
and referred to _The Romany Rye_ as the “literary dough” of an author
“whose dullest gypsy preparation we have now read.” In later years,
when, alas! it was too late, _The Athenæum_, through the eloquent pen of
Theodore Watts, made good amends. But William Bodham Donne wrote to
Borrow with adequate enthusiasm:
TO GEORGE BORROW, ESQ.
12 ST. JAMES’S SQUARE,_ May_ 24_th_, 1857.
MY DEAR SIR,—I received your book some days ago, but would not write
to you before I was able to read it, at least once, since it is
needless, I hope, for me to assure you that I am truly gratified by
the gift.
Time to read it I could not find for some days after it was sent
hither, for what with winding up my affairs here, the election of my
successor, preparations for flitting, etc., etc., I have been
incessantly occupied with matters needful to be done, but far less
agreeable to do than reading _The Romany Rye_. All I have said of
_Lavengro_ to yourself personally, or to others publicly or
privately, I say again of _The Romany Rye_. Everywhere in it the
hand of the master is stamped boldly and deeply. You join the chisel
of Dante with the pencil of Defoe.
I am rejoiced to see so many works announced of yours, for you have
more that is worth knowing to tell than any one I am acquainted with.
For your coming progeny’s sake I am disposed to wish you had worried
the literary-craft less. Brand and score them never so much, they
will not turn and repent, but only spit the more froth and venom. I
am reckoning on my emancipation with an eagerness hardly proper at my
years, but I cannot help it, so thoroughly do I hate London, and so
much do I love the country. I have taken a house, or rather a
cottage, at Walton on Thames, just on the skirts of Weybridge, and
there I hope to see you before I come into Norfolk, for I am afraid
my face will not be turned eastward for many weeks if not months.
Remember me kindly to Mrs. Borrow and Miss Clarke, and believe me, my
dear Sir, very truly and thankfully yours,
WM. B. DONNE.
And perhaps a letter from the then Town Clerk of Oxford is worth
reproducing here:
TO GEORGE BORROW, ESQ.
TOWN CLERK’S OFFICE, OXFORD, 19_th_ _August_ 1857.
SIR,—We have, attached to our Corporation, an ancient jocular court
composed of 13 of the poor old freemen who attend the elections and
have a king who sits attired in scarlet with a crown and sentences
interlopers (non-freemen) to be cold-burned, _i.e._ a bucket or so of
water introduced to the offender’s sleeve by means of the city pump;
but this infliction is of course generally commuted by a small
pecuniary compensation.
They call themselves “Slaveonians” or “Sclavonians.” The only notice
we have of them in the city records is by the name of “Slovens Hall.”
Reading _Romany Rye_ I notice your account of the Sclaves and venture
to trouble you with this, and to enquire whether you think that the
Sclaves might be connected through the Saxons with the ancient
municipal institutions of this country. You are no doubt aware that
Oxford is one of the most ancient Saxon towns, being a royal
bailiwick and fortified before the Conquest,—Yours truly,
GEORGE P. HESTER.
In spite of contemporary criticism, _The Romany Rye_ is a great book, or
rather it contains the concluding chapters of a great book. Sequels are
usually proclaimed to be inferior to their predecessors. But _The Romany
Rye_ is not a sequel. It is part of _Lavengro_, and is therefore
Borrow’s most imperishable monument.