To Mrs. Clarke
Toledo, Decr. 5, 1837.
My dear Madam,—I received your letter the day previous to my leaving Madrid for this place, whither I arrived in safety on the 2nd inst. I have availed myself of the very first opportunity of answering it which has presented itself. Permit me in the first place to sympathise sincerely in the loss which you have, it appears, lately sustained in your excellent brother, more especially as he was my own good kind friend. I little deemed when I parted from him only one short year since, at Oulton, that I was doomed never to press his honest hand again; but why should we grieve? He was a devout and humble Christian, and we have no reason to doubt that he has been admitted to the joys of his Lord; he was also zealous in his way, and although he had but two talents entrusted to him, he turned them to the best account and doubled them; perhaps he now rules over as many heavenly cities; therefore why, why should we grieve? Indeed it is possible that if we knew all, we should deem that we had high and cogent reason to rejoice that the Lord has snatched him from earth and earthly ties at this particular season. His principles were very excellent, but an evil and undue influence, continually exerted over him, might have gradually corrupted his heart, until it became alienated from loyalty and true religion, which are indeed inseparable; for the latter he might have substituted the vulgar savage bigotry of what is called “Dissent,” for the former “Radicalism,” that upas tree of the British Isles whose root is in the infernal pit.
You have stated to me how unpleasantly you are situated, and certain heavy trials which you have lately been subjected to. You have, moreover, done me the honour to ask my advice upon these points. I give it without hesitation and in a very few words. Maintain unflinchingly your right, your whole right, without yielding one particle, without abandoning one position, as the slightest manifestation of weakness and hesitation will be instantly taken advantage of by your adversaries, and be fraught with danger to yourself. Permit me here to state that it was in anticipation of something allied to the evil spirit which has lately been displayed towards you, I advised you on my last visit never to be persuaded to resign the house which you now occupy; it is one of the strongest of your entrenchments—abandon it and the foot of the enemy is in your camp, and with the help of law and chicanery you might be reduced to extremity. A line of the poet Spencer is strongly applicable to your situation:
“Be firm, be firm, and everywhere be firm.”
I would likewise strongly advise that with the least possible delay you call in the entire amount of whatever claim you possess on the landed property lately your brother’s, else I foresee that you will be involved in an endless series of dispute and litigation, which by one single act of resolution you may avoid. Remember that no forbearance on your part will be properly appreciated, and that every kindly feeling and desire of conciliation which you may display, will be set down to fear, and the consciousness of standing on weak ground. I am old in the knowledge of the world and those who dwell upon it, and would rather trust myself to the loving mercies of the hungry wolves of the Spanish mountains, than to the generosity and sense of justice of the Radicals of England. However determined you may show yourself, no reasonable person can cast any blame upon you, for from the contents of your letter, it appears, that your enemies have kept no terms with you, and entirely unprovoked, have done all in their power to outrage and harrow your feelings. Enough on this point.
Toledo was formerly the capital of Spain. Its population at present barely amounts to fifteen thousand souls, though in the time of the Romans and also during the Middle Ages, its population is said to have amounted to between two and three hundred thousand souls, which at present however does not amount to fifteen thousand. It is situated about twelve leagues (40 miles) to the westward of Madrid, and is built upon a steep rocky hill, round which flows the Tagus on all sides but the North. It still possesses a great many remarkable edifices, notwithstanding that it has long since fallen into decay. Its Cathedral is the most magnificent of Spain, and is the See of the Primate. In the tower of this Cathedral is the famous bell of Toledo, the largest in the world, with the exception of the monster-bell of Moscow, which I have also seen. It weighs 1543 arrobes, or 37-032 pounds. It has, however, a disagreeable sound, owing to a large cleft in its side. Toledo could once boast the finest pictures in Spain, but many were stolen or destroyed [by the] French during the Peninsular War, and still more have lately been removed by order of the Government. Perhaps the most remarkable still remains. I allude to that which represents the burial of the Count of Orgaz, the masterpiece of Domenico the Greek, a most extraordinary genius some of whose productions possess merit of a very high order; the picture in question is in the little parish church of San Tomé, at the bottom of the aisle, at the left hand of the altar. Could it be purchased, I should say it would be cheap at £5,000. You will easily guess that I did not visit Toledo for the sake of seeing its curiosities, but rather in the hope of propagating the Word. I have this day caused three hundred advertisements to be affixed to the walls, informing the people where it is to be had. I have humble hope in the Lord that he will bless my labours, notwithstanding that Toledo abounds with priests, friars, and other minions of cruel Rome. Should you see my dear Mrs. Ritson, pray remember me kindly to her and assure her that I often think of her, and the same you may say to Miss Henrietta. I hope my dear Mother is well. God bless you at all times and seasons.
G. B.
P.S.—My Gipsy Translation of Luke is ready for the press, and I shall commence printing it as soon as I return to Madrid. I hope that in the event of any of these singular people visiting your neighbourhood you will seek them out, and speak to them of Christ, and tell them what is being done for their brethren in a far foreign land. A Gipsy woman and her child have paid me several visits since my arrival here; her husband is in the prison for mule-stealing, and next week departs for ten years slavery in the galleys. She is in great trouble and affliction, and says that I am the only friend she has ever met with in Spain. She goes about telling fortunes, in order to support her husband in prison, notwithstanding that he had previously abandoned her, and departed for Granada with another Gypsy woman of the name of Aurora, who persuaded him to commit the robbery, for which he is now suffering. If this is not conjugal affection, what is?
Mrs. Clarke,
Oulton Cottage,
Lowestoft,
Suffolk,
England.
In the beginning of September, 1838, Borrow was again in England, when he issued a lengthy and eloquent defence of his conduct and a report on “Past and Future Operations in Spain.” In December of the same year Borrow was again on his way to Cadiz upon his third and last visit to Spain.
Borrow reached Cadiz on this his last visit on 31st December, 1838, and went straight to Seville, where he arrived on 2nd January, 1839. Here he took a beautiful little house, “a paradise in its way,” in the Plazuela de la Pila Seca, and furnished it—clearly at the expense of his friend Mrs. Clarke of Oulton, who must have sent him a cheque for the purpose. He had been corresponding regularly with Mrs. Clarke, who had told him of her difficulties with lawyers and relatives, and Borrow had advised her to cut the Gordian knot and come to Spain. But Mrs. Clarke and her daughter, Henrietta, did not arrive from England until June.
In the intervening months Borrow had been working more in his own interests than in those of the patient Bible Society, for he started to gather material for his Gypsies in Spain, and this book was for the most part actually written in Seville. It was at this period that he had the many interviews with Colonel Elers Napier that we quote at length in our next chapter.
A little later he is telling Mr. Brandram of his adventure with the blind girl of Manzanares who could talk in the Latin tongue, which she had been taught by a Jesuit priest, an episode which he retold in The Bible in Spain. “When shall we hear,” he asks, “of an English rector instructing a beggar girl in the language of Cicero?” To which Mr. Brandram, who was rector of Beckenham, replied “Cui bono?” The letters of this period are the best that he ever wrote, and are incorporated more exactly than the earlier ones in The Bible in Spain.
Four letters to his mother within the period of his second and third visits may well be presented together here from my Borrow Papers:
To Mrs. Ann Borrow
Madrid, July 27, 1838.
My dear Mother,—I am in perfect health though just returned from a long expedition in which I have been terribly burnt by the sun. In about ten days I sold nearly a thousand Testaments among the labourers of the plains and mountains of Castille and La Mancha. Everybody in Madrid is wondering and saying such a thing is a miracle, as I have not entered a town, and the country people are very poor and have never seen or heard of the Testament before. But I confess to you that I dislike my situation and begin to think that I have been deceived; the B.S. have had another person on the sea-coast who has nearly ruined their cause in Spain by circulating seditious handbills and tracts. The consequence has been that many of my depots have been seized in which I kept my Bibles in various parts of the country, for the government think that he is employed by me; I told the B.S. all along what would be the consequence of employing this man, but they took huff and would scarce believe me, and now all my words are come true; I do not blame the government in the slightest degree for what they have done in many points, they have shown themselves to be my good friends, but they have been driven to the step by the insane conduct of the person alluded to. I told them frankly in my last letter that I would leave their service if they encouraged him; for I will not be put in prison again on his account, and lose another servant by the gaol fever, and then obtain neither thanks nor reward. I am going out of town again in a day or two, but I shall now write very frequently, therefore be not alarmed for I will run into no danger. Burn this letter and speak to no one about it, nor any others that I may send. God bless you, my dear mother.
G. B.
To Mrs. Ann Borrow, Willow Lane, St. Giles,
Norwich (Inglaterra)
Madrid, August 5, 1838.
My dear Mother,—I merely write this to inform you that I am back to Madrid from my expedition. I have been very successful and have sold a great many Testaments. Indeed all the villages and towns within thirty miles have been supplied. In Madrid itself I can do nothing as I am closely watched by order of the government and not permitted to sell, so that all I do is by riding out to places where they cannot follow me. I do not blame them, for they have much to complain of, though nothing of me, but if the Society will countenance such men as they have lately done in the South of Spain they must expect to reap the consequences. It is very probable that I may come to England in a little time, and then you will see me; but do not talk any more about yourself being “no more seen,” for it only serves to dishearten me, and God knows I have enough to make me melancholy already. I am in a great hurry and cannot write any more at present.—I remain, dear mother, yours affectionately,
George Borrow.