To Mrs. George Borrow
53A PALL MALL, LONDON.
DEAR WIFE CARRETA,--I arrived here about five o"clock this morning--time I saw you. I have walked about 250 miles. I walked the whole way from the North to the South--then turning to the East traversed Glamorganshire and the county of Monmouth, and came out at Chepstow. My boots were worn up by the time I reached Swansea, and was obliged to get them new soled and welted. I have seen wonderful mountains, waterfalls, and people. On the other side of the Black Mountains I met a cartload of gypsies; they were in a dreadful rage and were abusing the country right and left. My last ninety miles proved not very comfortable, there was so much rain. Pray let me have some money by Monday as I am nearly without any, as you may well suppose, for I was three weeks on my journey. I left you on a Thursday, and reached Chepstow yesterday, Thursday, evening. I hope you, my mother, and Hen. are well. I have seen Murray and Cooke.--G.o.d bless you, yours,
GEORGE BORROW.
(Keep this.)
Before Borrow put the finishing touches to _Wild Wales_ he repeated his visit of 1854. This was in 1857, the year of _The Romany Rye_. Dr. Knapp records the fact through a letter to Mr. John Murray from Shrewsbury, in which he discusses the possibility of a second edition of _The Romany Rye_: "I have lately been taking a walk in Wales of upwards of five hundred miles," he writes. This tour lasted from August 23rd to October 5th. I find four letters to his wife that were written in this holiday.
He does not seem to have made any use of this second tour in his _Wild Wales_, although I have abundance of ma.n.u.script notes upon it in my possession.
To Mrs. George Borrow
TENBY, _Tuesday, 25._
MY DEAR CARRETA,--Since writing to you I have been rather unwell and was obliged to remain two days at Sandypool. The weather has been horribly hot and affected my head and likewise my sight slightly; moreover one of the shoes hurt my foot. I came to this place to-day and shall presently leave it for Pembroke on my way back. I shall write to you from there. I shall return by Cardigan. What I want you to do is to write to me directed to the post office, Cardigan (in Cardiganshire), and either inclose a post office order for five pounds or an order from Lloyd and Co. on the banker of that place for the same sum; but at any rate write or I shall not know what to do.
I would return by railroad, but in that event I must go to London, for there are no railroads from here to Shrewsbury. I wish moreover to see a little more. Just speak to the banker and don"t lose any time. Send letter, and either order in it, or say that I can get it at the bankers. I hope all is well.
G.o.d bless you and Hen.
GEORGE BORROW.
To Mrs. George Borrow
TRECASTLE, BRECKNOCKSHIRE, SOUTH WALES, _August 17th._
DEAR CARRETA,--I write to you a few words from this place; to-morrow I am going to Llandovery and from there to Carmarthen; for the first three or four days I had dreadful weather. I got only to Worthen the first day, twelve miles--on the next to Montgomery, and so on. It is now very hot, but I am very well, much better than at Shrewsbury. I hope in a few days to write to you again, and soon to be back to you. G.o.d bless you and Hen.
G. BORROW.
To Mrs. George Borrow
LAMPETER, _3rd September 1857._
MY DEAR CARRETA,--I am making the best of my way to Shrewsbury (My face is turned towards Mama). I write this from Lampeter, where there is a college for educating clergymen intended for Wales, which I am going to see. I shall then start for Badnor by Tregaron, and hope soon to be in England. I have seen an enormous deal since I have been away, and have walked several hundred miles. Amongst other places I have seen St. David"s, a wonderful half ruinous cathedral on the S. Western end of Pembrokeshire, but I shall be glad to get back. G.o.d bless you and Hen.
GEORGE BORROW.
Henrietta! Do you know who is handsome?
To Mrs. George Borrow
PRESTEYNE, RADNORSHIRE, _Monday morning._
DEAR CARRETA,--I am just going to start for Ludlow, and hope to be at Shrewsbury on Tuesday night if not on Monday morning. G.o.d bless you and Hen.
G. BORROW.
When I get back I shall have walked more than 400 miles.
In _Wild Wales_ we have George Borrow in his most genial mood. There are none of the hairbreadth escapes and grim experiences of _The Bible in Spain_, none of the romance and the glamour of _Lavengro_ and its sequel, but there is good humour, a humour that does not obtain in the three more important works, and there is an amazing amount of frank candour of a biographical kind. We even have a reference to Isopel Berners, referred to by Captain Bosvile as "the young woman you used to keep company with ... a fine young woman and a virtuous." It is the happiest of Borrow"s books, and not unnaturally. He was having a genuine holiday, and he had the companionship during a part of it of his wife and daughter, of whom he was, as this book is partly written to prove, very genuinely fond. He also enjoyed the singularly felicitous experience of harking back upon some of his earliest memories. He was able to retrace the steps he took in the Welsh language during his boyhood:
That night I sat up very late reading the life of Twm O"r Nant, written by himself in choice Welsh.... The life I had read in my boyhood in an old Welsh magazine, and I now read it again with great zest, and no wonder, as it is probably the most remarkable autobiography ever penned.
It is in this ecstatic mood that he pa.s.ses through Wales. Let me recall the eulogy on "Gronwy" Owen, and here it may be said that Borrow rarely got his spelling correct of the proper names of his various literary heroes, in the various Norse and Celtic tongues in which he delighted.[227] But how much Borrow delighted in his poets may be seen by his eulogy on Goronwy Owen, which in its pathos recalls Carlyle"s similar eulogies over poor German scholars who interested him, Jean Paul Richter and Heyne, for example. Borrow ignored Owen"s persistent intemperance and general impracticability. Here and here only, indeed, does he remind one of Carlyle.[228] He had a great capacity for hero-worship, although the two were not interested in the same heroes.
His hero-worship of Owen took him over large tracks of country in search of that poet"s birthplace. He writes of the delight he takes in inspecting the birth-places and haunts of poets. "It is because I am fond of poetry, poets, and their haunts, that I am come to Anglesey."[229] "I proceeded on my way," he says elsewhere, "in high spirits indeed, having now seen not only the tomb of the Tudors, but one of those sober poets for which Anglesey has always been so famous." And thus it is that _Wild Wales_ is a high-spirited book, which will always be a delight and a joy not only to Welshmen, who, it may be hoped, have by this time forgiven "the ecclesiastical cat" of Llangollen, but to all who rejoice in the great cla.s.sics of the English tongue.
FOOTNOTES:
[222] "Not one drop of East Anglian blood was in the veins of Borrow"s father, and very little in the veins of his mother. Borrow"s ancestry was pure Cornish on one side, and on the other mainly French."--Theodore Watts-Dunton: Introduction to _The Romany Rye_ (Ward and Lock).
[223] The advertis.e.m.e.nt describes it thus: "In two volumes, _Songs of Europe: or Metrical Translations from all the European Languages; With Brief Prefatory Remarks on each Language and its Literature_."
[224] _Wild Wales: Its People, Language, and Scenery_. By George Borrow.
3 vols. John Murray, 1862.
[225] Mary Botham (1799-1888) was born at Coleford, Gloucestershire, and married William Howitt in 1821. The pair compiled many books together.
The statement in the _Dictionary of National Biography_ that "nothing that either of them wrote will live" is quite unwarranted. William Howitt"s _Homes and Haunts of the most eminent British Poets_ (Bentley, 2 vols., 1847) is still eagerly sought after for every good library. In _Mary Howitt: An Autobiography_ (Isbister, 2 vols., 1889), a valuable book of reminiscences, there is no mention of Borrow.
[226] Edward James Mortimer Collins (1827-1876), once bore the t.i.tle of "King of the Bohemians" among his friends; wrote _Sweet and Twenty_ and many other novels once widely popular.
[227] Goronwy or Gronow Owen (1723-1769), born at Rhos Fawr in Anglesey, and died at St. Andrews, Brunswick County, Virginia.
[228] Borrow had at many points certain affinities to Carlyle"s hero Johnson, but lacked his epigrammatic wit--and much else. But he seems to have desired to emulate Johnson in one particular, as we find in the following dialogue:--
"I wouldn"t go on foot there this night for fifty pounds."
"Why not?" said I.
"For fear of being knocked down by the colliers, who will be all out and drunk."
"If not more than two attack me," said I, "I shan"t so much mind. With this book I am sure I can knock down one, and I think I can find play for the other with my fists."
[229] When searching for the home of Goronwy Owen Borrow records a meeting with one of his descendants--a little girl of seven or eight years of age, named Ellen Jones, who in recent years has been interviewed as to her impressions of Borrow"s visit. "He did speak _funny_ Welsh," she says, "... he could not p.r.o.nounce the "ll." "He had plenty of words, but bad p.r.o.nunciation."--Herbert Jenkins: _Life of Borrow_, p. 418. But Borrow in _Wild Wales_ frequently admits his imperfect acquaintance with spoken Welsh.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
LIFE IN LONDON, 1860-1874
George Borrow"s earlier visits to London are duly recorded, with that glamour of which he was a master, in the pages of _Lavengro_. Who can cross London Bridge even to-day without thinking of the apple-woman and her copy of _Moll Flanders_; and many pa.s.sages of Borrow"s great book make a very special appeal to the lover of London. Then there was that visit to the Bible Society"s office made on foot from Norwich, and the expedition a few months later to pa.s.s an examination in the Manchu language. When he became a country squire and the author of the very successful _Bible in Spain_ Borrow frequently visited London, and his various residences may be traced from his letters. Take, for example, these five notes to his wife, the first apparently written in 1848, but all undated: