When he had landed he continued his investigations, asking every peasant he met the Manx for this or that English word:
“Are you Manx?” said I. “Yes,” he replied, “I am Manx.” “And what do you call a river in Manx?” “A river,” he replied. “Can you speak Manx?” I demanded. “Yes,” he replied, “I speak Manx.” “And you call a river a river?” “Yes,” said he, “I do.” “You don’t call it owen?” said I. “I do not,” said he. I passed on, and on the other side of the bridge went for some time along an avenue of trees, passing by a stone water-mill, till I came to a public-house on the left hand. Seeing a woman looking out of the window, I asked her to what place the road led. “To Castletown,” she replied. “And what do you call the river in Manx?” said I. “We call it an owen,” said she. “So I thought,” I replied, and after a little further discourse returned, as the night was now coming fast on.
One man whom Borrow asked if there were any poets in Man replied that he did not believe there were, that the last Manx poet had died some time ago at Kirk Conoshine, and this man had translated Parnell’s Hermit beautifully, and the translation had been printed. He inquired about the Runic Stones, which he continually transcribed. Under date Thursday, 30th August, we find the following:
This day year I ascended Snowdon, and this morning, which is very fine, I propose to start on an expedition to Castletown and to return by Peel.
Very gladly would I follow Borrow more in detail through this interesting holiday by means of his diary, [197] but it would make my book too long. As he had his wife and daughter with him there are no letters by him from the island.
Three years later we find that Borrow has not forgotten the friends of that Manx holiday. This letter is from the Vicar of Malew in acknowledgment of a copy of The Romany Rye published in the interval:
To George Borrow, Esq.
Malew Vicarage, Ballasalla,
Isle of Man, 27 Jany. 1859.My dear Sir,—I return you my most hearty thanks for your most handsome present of Romany Rye, and no less handsome letter relative to your tour in the Isle of Man and the literature of the Manx. Both I value very highly, and from both I shall derive useful hints for my introduction to the new edition of the Manx Grammar. I hope you will have no objection to my quoting a passage or two from the advertisement of your forthcoming book; and if I receive no intimation of your dissent, I shall take it for granted that I have your kind permission. The whole notice is so apposite to my purpose, and would be so interesting to every Manxman, that I would fain insert the whole bodily, did the Author and the limits of an Introduction permit. The Grammar will, I think, go to press in March next. It is to be published under the auspices of “The Manx Society,” instituted last year “for the publication of National documents of the Isle of Man.” As soon as it is printed I hope to beg the favour of your acceptance of a copy.—I am, my dear Sir, your deeply obliged humble servant,
William Gill.
CHAPTER XXVII
Oulton Broad and Yarmouth
George Borrow wandered far and wide, but he always retraced his footsteps to East Anglia, of which he was so justly proud. From his marriage in 1840 until his death in 1881 he lived twenty-seven years at Oulton or at Yarmouth. “It is on sand alone that the sea strikes its true music,” Borrow once remarked, “Norfolk sand”—and it was in the waves and on the sands of the Norfolk coast that Borrow spent the happiest hours of his restless life. Oulton Cottage is only about two miles from Lowestoft, and so, walking or driving, these places were quite near one another. But both are in Suffolk. Was it because Yarmouth—ten miles distant—is in Norfolk that it was always selected for seaside residence? I suspect that the careful Mrs. Borrow found a wider selection of “apartments” at a moderate price. In any case the sea air of Yarmouth was good for his wife, and the sea bathing was good for him, and so we find that husband and wife had seven separate residences at Yarmouth during the years of Oulton life. [199] But Oulton was ever to be Borrow’s headquarters, even though between 1860 and 1874 he had a house in London. Borrow was thirty-seven years of age when he settled down at Oulton. He was, he tells us in The Romany Rye, “in tolerably easy circumstances and willing to take some rest after a life of labour.” Their home was a cottage on the Broad, for the Hall, which was also Mrs. Borrow’s property, was let on lease to a farmer. The cottage, however, was an extremely pleasant residence with a lawn running down to the river. A more substantial house has been built on this site since Borrow’s day. The summer-house is generally assumed to be the same, but has certainly been re-roofed since the time when Henrietta Clarke drew the picture of it that is reproduced in this book. Probably the whole summer-house is new, but at any rate the present structure stands on the site of the old one. Here Borrow did his work, wrote and wrote and wrote, until he had, as he said, “mountains of manuscripts.” Here first of all he completed The Zincali (1841), commenced in Seville; then he wrote or rather arranged The Bible in Spain (1843), and then at long intervals, diversified by extensive travel holidays, he wrote Lavengro (1851), The Romany Rye (1857), and Wild Wales (1860)—these are the five books and their dates that we most associate with Borrow’s sojourn at Oulton. When Wild Wales was published he had removed to London.
By far the best glimpses of Borrow during these years of Suffolk life are those contained in a letter contributed by his friend, Elizabeth Harvey, to The Eastern Daily Press of Norwich over the initials “E. H.”: