Whilst standing at the door of the Inn of the Three Nations on the day following his arrival at Badajos, meditating upon the deplorable state of the country he had just entered, Borrow recognised in the face of one of two men who were about to pass him the unmistakable lineaments of Egypt. Uttering “a certain word,” he received the reply he expected and forthwith engaged in conversation with the two men, who both proved to be gypsies. These men spread the news abroad that staying at the Inn of the Three Nations was a man who spoke Romany. “In less than half an hour the street before the inn was filled with the men, women, and children of Egypt.” Borrow went out amongst them, and confesses that “so much vileness, dirt, and misery I had never seen among a similar number of human beings; but worst of all was the evil expression of their countenances.” [164b] He soon discovered that their faces were an accurate index to their hearts, which were capable of every species of villainy. The gypsies clustered round him, fingering his hands, face and clothes, as if he were a holy man.
Gypsies had always held for Borrow a strange attraction, [164c] and he determined to prolong his stay at Badajos in order that he might have an opportunity of becoming “better acquainted with their condition and manners, and above all to speak to them of Christ and His Word; for I was convinced, that should I travel to the end of the universe, I should meet with no people more in need of a little Christian exhortation.” [165a]
Intimate though his acquaintance with the gypsies of other countries had been, Borrow was aghast at the depravity of those of Spain. The men were drunkards, brigands, and murderers; the women unchaste, and inveterate thieves. Their language was terrifying in its foulness. They seemed to have no religion save a misty glimmering of metempsychosis, which had come down to them through the centuries, and having been very wicked in this world they asked, with some show of reason, why they should live again. They were incorrigible heathens, keenly interested in the demonstration that their language was capable of being written and read, but untouched by the parables of Lazarus or the Prodigal Son, which Borrow read and expounded to them. “Brother,” exclaimed one woman, “you tell us strange things, though perhaps you do not lie; a month since I would sooner have believed these tales, than that this day I should see one who could read Romany.” [165b]
Neither by exhortation nor by translating into Romany a portion of the Gospel of St Luke could Borrow make any impression upon the minds of the gypsies, therefore when one of them, Antonio by name, announced that “the affairs of Egypt” called for his presence “on the frontiers of Costumbra,” and that he and Borrow might as well journey thus far together, he decided to avail himself of the opportunity. It was arranged that Borrow’s luggage should be sent on ahead, for, as Antonio said, “How the Busné [the Spaniards] on the road would laugh if they saw two Calés [Gypsies] with luggage behind them.” [166a] Thus it came about that an agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society, mounted upon a most uncouth horse “of a spectral white, short in the body, but with remarkably long legs” and high in the withers, set out from Badajos on 16th January 1836, escorted by a smuggler astride a mule; for the affairs of Egypt on this occasion were the evasion of the Customs dues.
Towards evening on the first day the curiously assorted pair arrived at Mérida, and proceeded to a large and ruinous house, a portion of which was occupied by some connections of the gypsy Antonio’s. In the large hall of the old mansion they camped, and here, acting on the gypsy’s advice, Borrow remained for three days. Antonio himself was absent from early morning until late at night, occupied with his own affairs. [166b]
The fourth night was spent in the forest by the campfire of some more of Antonio’s friends. On one occasion, but for the fortunate possession of a passport, the affairs of Egypt would have involved Borrow in some difficulties with the authorities. At another time, for safety’s sake, he had to part from Antonio and proceed on his way alone, picking up the contrabandista further on the road.
When some distance beyond Jaraicéjo, it was discovered that the affairs of Egypt had ended disastrously in the discomfiture and capture of Antonio’s friends by the authorities. The news was brought by the gypsy’s daughter. Antonio must return at once, and as the steed Borrow was riding, which belonged to Antonio, would be required by him, Borrow purchased the daughter’s donkey, and having said good-bye to the smuggler, he continued his journey alone.
By way of Almaráz and Oropésa Borrow eventually reached Talavéra (24th Jan.). On the advice of a Toledo Jew, with whom he had become acquainted during the last stage of his journey, he decided to take the diligence from Talavéra to Madrid, the more willingly because the Jew amiably offered to purchase the donkey. On the evening of 25th Jan. Borrow accordingly took his place on the diligence, and reached the capital the next morning.
On arriving at Madrid, Borrow first went to a Posada; but a few days later he removed to lodgings in the Calle de la Zarza (the Street of the Brambles),—“A dark and dirty street, which, however, was close to the Puerta del Sol, the most central point of Madrid, into which four or five of the principal streets debouche, and which is, at all times of the year, the great place of assemblage for the idlers of the capital, poor or rich.” [167a]
The capital did not at first impress Borrow very favourably. [167b] “Madrid is a small town,” he wrote to his mother, [167c] “not larger than Norwich, but it is crammed with people, like a hive with bees, and it contains many fine streets and fountains . . . Everything in Madrid is excessively dear to foreigners, for they are made to pay six times more than natives . . . I manage to get on tolerably well, for I make a point of paying just one quarter of what I am asked.”