CHAPTER XX—“THE BIBLE IN SPAIN”
In “The Zincali” Borrow used some of his private notes and others supplied by Spanish friends, together with parts of letters to the Bible Society. It used to be supposed that “The Bible in Spain” was made up almost entirely from these letters. But this has now been disproved by the newly published “Letters of George Borrow to the Bible Society.” [{163a}] These letters are about half the length of “The Bible in Spain,” and yet only about a third part of them was used by Borrow in writing that book. Some of his letters were never received by the Society and had probably been lost on the way. But this was more of a disaster to the Society than to Borrow. He kept journals [{163b}] from which his letters were probably copied or composed; and he was able, for example, in July, 1836, to send the Society a detailed and dated account of his entry into Spain in January, and his intercourse with the Gypsies of Badajoz. It is also possible that the letters lent to him by the Society were far more numerous than those returned by him. He missed little that could have been turned to account, unless it was the suggestion that if he knew the country his safest way from Seville to Madrid was to go afoot in the dress of beggar or Gypsy, and the remark that in Tangier one of his principal associates was a black slave, whose country was only three days journey from Timbuctoo. [{163c}] He had already in 1835
planned to write “a small volume” on what he was about to see and hear in Spain, and it must have been from notes or full journals kept with this view that he drew for “The Zincali” and still more for “The Bible in Spain.” He wrote his journals and letters very much as Cobbett his “Rural Rides,” straight after days in the saddle. Except when he was presenting a matter of pure business he was not much troubled by the fact that he was addressing his employers, the Bible Society. He did not always begin “Bible” with a capital B, an error corrected by Mr. Darlow, his editor. He prefixed “Revd. and dear sir,” and thought little more about them unless to add such a phrase as: “A fact which I hope I may be permitted to mention with gladness and with decent triumph in the Lord.” He did not, however, scorn to make a favourable misrepresentation of his success, as for example in the interview with Mendizabal, which was reduced probably to the level of the facts in its book form. The Society were not always pleased with his frankness and confidence, and the Secretary complained of things which were inconvenient to be read aloud in a pious assembly, less concerned with sinners than with repentance, and not easily convinced by the improbable. He sent them, for example, after a specimen Gypsy translation of the Gospel of St. Luke and of the Lord’s Prayer, “sixteen specimens of the horrid curses in use amongst the Spanish Gypsies,” with translations into English. These do not re-appear either in “The Bible in Spain” or in the edition of Borrow’s letters to the Society. He spared them, apparently, the story of Benedict Moll and many another good thing that was meant for mankind.
I should be inclined to think that a very great part of “The Bible in Spain” was written as the letters were, on the spot. Either it was not sent to the Society for fear of loss, or if copied and sent to them, it was lost on the way or never returned by Borrow after he had used it in writing the
book, for the letters are just as careful in most parts as the book, and the book is just as fresh as the letters. When he wrote to the Society, he said that he told the schoolmaster “the Almighty would never have inspired His saints with a desire to write what was unintelligible to the great mass of mankind”; in “The Bible in Spain” he said: “It [i.e., the Bible] would never have been written if not calculated by itself to illume the minds of all classes of mankind.” Continuous letters or journals would be more likely to suit Borrow’s purpose than notes such as he took in his second tour to Wales and never used. Notes made on the spot are very likely to be disproportionate, to lay undue stress on something that should be allowed to recede, and would do so if left to memory; and once made they are liable to misinterpretation if used after intervals of any length. But the flow and continuity of letters insist on some proportion and on truth at least to the impression of the day, and a balance is ensured between the scene or the experience on the one hand and the observer on the other.
“The Zincali” was not published before Borrow realised what a treasure he had deposited with the Bible Society, and not long afterwards he obtained the loan of his letters to make a new book on his travels in Spain. Borrow’s own account, in his preface to the second edition of “The Zincali,” is that the success of that book, and “the voice not only of England but of the greater part of Europe” proclaiming it, astonished him in his “humble retreat” at Oulton. He was, he implies, inclined to be too much elated. Then the voice of a critic—whom we know to have been Richard Ford—told him not to believe all he heard, but to try again and avoid all his second hand stuff, his “Gypsy poetry, dry laws, and compilations from dull Spanish authors.” And so, he says, he began work in the winter, but slowly, and on through summer and autumn and another
winter, and into another spring and summer, loitering and being completely idle at times, until at last he went to his summer house daily and finished the book. But as a matter of fact “The Zincali” had no great success in either public or literary esteem, and Ford’s criticism was passed on the manuscript, not the printed book.
Borrow and his wife took about six months to prepare the letters for publication as a book. He took great pains with the writing and only worked when he was in the mood. His health was not quite good, as he implies in the preface to “The Zincali,” and he tried “the water system” and also “lessons in singing,” to cure his indigestion and sleeplessness. He had the advantage of Ford’s advice, to avoid fine writing, mere description, poetry and learned books, and to give plenty of “racy, real, genuine scenes, and the more out of the way the better,” stories of adventure, extraordinary things, prisons, low life, Gypsies, and so on. He was now drawing entirely from “his own well,” and when the book was out Ford took care to remark that the author had cast aside the learned books which he had used as swimming corks in the “Zincali,” and now “leaped boldly into the tide” unaided. John Murray’s reader sent back the manuscript to be revised and augmented, and after this was done, “The Bible in Spain” was published, at the end of 1842, when Borrow was thirty-nine.
“The Bible in Spain” was praised and moreover purchased by everyone. It was translated into French, American, Russian, and printed in America. The “Athenæum” found it a “genuine book”; the “Examiner” said that “apart from its adventurous interest, its literary merit is extraordinary.” Ford compared it with an old Spanish ballad, “going from incident to incident, bang, bang, bang!” and with Gil Blas, and with Bunyan. Ford, it must be remembered, had ridden over the same tracks as Borrow in Spain, but before him, and had written his own
book with a combination of learning and gusto that is one of the rarest of literary virtues. Like Borrow he wrote fresh from the thing itself when possible, asserting for example that the fat of the hams of Montanches, when boiled, “looked like melted topazes, and the flavour defies language, although we have dined on one this very day, in order to secure accuracy and undeniable prose.” For the benefit of the public Ford pointed out that “the Bible and its distribution have been the business of his existence; whenever moral darkness brooded, there, the Bible in his hand, he forced his way.”