He returned to England to find that the Handbook was succeeding beyond his own or his publisher’s expectations. In spite of its price, print, and double columns, 1389 copies were sold in three months, and a second edition was already talked of. The book had, in fact, created a sensation. Under its unpretending title it gave a description of Spain, past and present, which no other man living, foreigner or native, could have produced. Men who knew the country intimately, such as Lord Clarendon, Prescott, George Borrow, and Washington Irving, were as enthusiastic as they were unanimous in its praise. “Surely never was there,” wrote Prescott, “since Humboldt’s book on Mexico, such an amount of information, historical, critical, topographical, brought together in one view, and that in the unpretending form of a Manuel du Voyageur.” Lockhart saw in the Handbook “the work of a most superior workman,—master of more tools than almost anyone in these days pretends to handle,” and he found in its pages “the combination of keen observation and sterling sense with learning à la Burton and pleasantry à la Montaigne.” The book, in fact, took, and still holds, its place among the best books of travel in the English language. Few writers even now can touch on Spanish subjects without owing or acknowledging a deep debt to Ford. Nor was his work merely a guidebook to a particular country; it is a guidebook to all travellers, wherever they might be, from its infectious capacity for enjoyment and the richness and variety of its interests.
The letter to Gayangos, quoted above, was written on Ford’s way back from Oxford, where that learned Spaniard had once hoped to obtain a Professorship.
I am but just returned from Oxford, where I spent ten days. The minds of the young men are perplexed with Puseyismo y la Santa Iglesia Catholica y Romana. That evil, and a tremendous habit of smoking cigars, seem to be the features of the place, and perplex the tutors and heads of colleges.
Among the Addington correspondence is a letter, written November 25th, 1845, from Oxford itself:—
Oxford, Nov. 25, /45.
I propose leaving this learned city on Monday, and am about to spend a week in Park Street, to settle some law matters for my mother. This is the moment which is big with fate for the Montanches Porkers, and I am about to write to Don Juan to forward to me my annual adventure of Jamones. How do you feel disposed?
This Oxford is indeed changed since my time. The youths drink toast and water and fast on Wednesdays and Fridays. They have somewhat of a priggish, macerated look; der Puseyismus has spread far among the rising generation of fellows of colleges. Pusey, the arch-heretic, has indeed the true Jesuit look. I sang an anthem out of his book and with him last Sunday, having been placed in a stall at Christ Church between him and Gaisford of Greek fame; but I have not yet joined Rome, being still rather of the school of the æsthetics than of the ascetics.
Literary work was resumed. A second edition of the Handbook had to be prepared. Articles were written for the Quarterly Review on such varied subjects as “Spanish Architecture,” “Spanish Painting,” “The Horse’s Foot,” “Spanish Lady’s Love.” In 1846 appeared his Gatherings from Spain, consisting partly of the introductory essays to the Handbook, partly of new material. The book was brought out at lightning speed.
I am glad (he writes to Addington, December 1846) that Gatherings have been deemed worthy of your perusal. The first part has indeed been knocked off currente calamo, and almost without my ever seeing the pages in revise. They were written against time, composed, printed, and type distributed in three weeks. This is not fair on the Author, as slips in style must inevitably occur. I have almost written a new book as to half of it.