FOOTNOTES:
[252] Henrietta's guitar is now in my possession and is a very handsome instrument.
[253] Henrietta MacOubrey put every difficulty in the way of Dr. Knapp, and I hold many letters from her strongly denouncing his Life.
[254] The stories against Henrietta MacOubrey have received endorsement from that pleasant writer Mr. W. A. Dutt, who has long lived near Lowestoft. It is conveyed in such a communication as the following from a correspondent: 'After Borrow's death Mr. Reeve, Curator of Norwich Castle Museum, visited the Oulton house with the Rev. J. Gunn (died 28th May 1890), having some idea of buying Borrow's books for the Colman collection. Mrs. MacOubrey wanted £1000 for them, but Mr. Reeve did not think them worth more than £200. They were, however, bought by Webber of Ipswich, who soon afterwards entered into the employment of Jarrold of Norwich. Mr. Reeve described the scene as one of rank dilapidation and decay—evidences of extreme untidiness and neglect everywhere.'
[255] Mr. Herbert Jenkins has drawn a quite wrong conclusion—although natural under the circumstances—from a letter he had seen in which Borrow asked his wife for money. Mrs. Borrow kept the banking account. Moreover, it is not generally known that Borrow completed the possession of his wife's estate, including Oulton Hall farm and some cottage property, with the money that came to him from The Bible in Spain.
[256] 'George Borrow Reminiscences' in The Eastern Daily Press, July 31, 1913.
[257] Mr. Baldrey also gives us reminiscences of Borrow's prowess as a swimmer:
'It was one of the signs of his perfect health and vigour that he was a fine swimmer. On one occasion George Jay and John Pilgrim were out for a sail in Jay's old yacht, the Widgeon. Becalmed, they were drifting somewhere down by Reedham, when suddenly Borrow said, "George, how deep is it here?" "About twenty-two feet, sir," said George Jay. The partners always called him "sir." "George," said Borrow, "I am going to the bottom." Straightway he stripped, dived, and presently came up with a handful of mud and weeds. "There, George," he said, "I've been to the bottom," Some time in 1872 or 1873, for Borrow was then sixty-nine, my mother and I were walking on the beach at Lowestoft, when just round the Ness Light we met Borrow coming: towards us from the Corton side. He got hold of my shoulder, and, pointing to the big black buoy beyond the Ness, he said, "There! Do you see that? I have just been out there. I have not been back many minutes." At the age of nearly seventy he had been round the Ness Buoy and home again—a wonderful performance if, in addition to his age, you remember the dangerous set of the currents thereabouts.'
There is also a story, which comes to me from another quarter, of Borrow skating upon the ice of Oulton Broad a few months before his death, and remarking that he had not skated since he was in Russia. The following passage from Mr. Baldrey's narrative is interesting as showing that Borrow did not in later life quite lose sight of his birthplace:
'Apparently I interested him in some way, for twice while I was at school at East Dereham he came over specially to take me out for the afternoon. He had ascertained from my mother which were the school half-holidays, and purposely chose those days so that I might be free. We would start off at half-past twelve and return at bedtime. Where we went I could not tell you for certain, but I know that once we went through Scarning and once through Mattishall. What we talked about of course I cannot recall, for I was then a boy between 13 and 15 years of age, and I had no sort of inkling that my companion was even then a celebrity and destined to be a still greater one in the future. But I do remember that sometimes I could not get a word out of him for an hour or more, and that then suddenly he would break out with all sorts of questions. "I wonder if you can see what I can," he once remarked. "Do you see that the gypsies have been here?" "No," I replied. "And you are not likely to," said he. And then he would tell me no more. He was rather prone to arouse one's curiosity and refuse to pursue the subject. I do not mean that he was morose. Far from it. He was always very kind to me. After I had left school and returned to Norwich he frequently called for me and took me out with him. Once or twice I went with him to Lowestoft.'
[258] One of them is entitled The Present Crisis: The True Cause of Our Indian Troubles, by William MacOubrey of the Middle Temple. There are also countless pamphlets in manuscript. MacOubrey was an enthusiastic and indeed truculent upholder of the Act of Union.
[259] The farm referred to was Oulton Hall farm, often referred to as Oulton Hall.
[260] Another letter from Miss Harvey, dated 1st August, is one of sympathy, and there are passages in it that may well be taken to heart when it is considered that Miss Harvey was the most intimate friend of Borrow and his stepdaughter:
'Bury, August 1st, 1881.
'Dearest Friend,—Though I cannot be with you in your trouble I am continually thinking of you, and praying that all needful help and comfort may be sent to you as you need and how you need it. I have no means of hearing any particulars, and am most anxious to know how you do, and how you have got through the last painful week. Whenever you feel able write me a few words, I await them with much anxiety. When you are able to realise the reality of his eternal gain—you will feel that all is well. A great spirit, a great and noble spirit, has passed from the earth, his earthly tabernacle is taken down to be raised again—glorious and immortal, a fitting abode for a spirit of the just made perfect. How wonderful are those words, "made perfect." We are even now part of that grand assembly where they dwell. "We are come to the general assembly and church of the first born which are written in heaven. To God the judge of all, to Jesus the Mediator, to an innumerable company of angels, etc., to the spirits of the just made perfect." Let us realise our communion with them even now, and soon to meet them on the Resurrection Morn—when they who sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him ... and so we shall be ever with the Lord.
Ever with the Lord,
Amen, so let it be,
Life from the dead is in that word,
'Tis immortality.
Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, their works do follow them. Your beloved father's work in Spain will follow him. His efforts to spread the word of God in that benighted land, ever has and ever will bring forth blessed fruits. Dearest Henrietta, be comforted, you have been a most devoted daughter to him, and latterly his greatest earthly comfort; your dear husband also; and together you have tended him to the last. He now rests in peace. All the sufferings of mind and body are over for ever. You will have much earthly business on your hands. I pray that you may be directed in all things by true wisdom. The time is short, we must set our houses in order, that we may not be unnecessarily burdened with earthly cares. Having food and raiment, let us be therewith content.
'Let us be without carefulness, and so quietly and piously spend the remnant of our days—ever growing in the knowledge of Christ, and finding in Him all our comfort and all our joy, and when our own time of departure shall arrive may we be ready and able to say, "I have a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." The path of the just is as the shining light which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. May our path be so lighted up—until the day break and the shadows flee away. Dearest friend, do write soon. I am so anxious to hear how Dr. MacOubrey is.—Your most affect. friend,
E. Harvey.