The Life of George Borrow [164]
Magistrates" and also with the way in which the Petty Sessions were attended. He could hear of no complaint, and when the time came to increase the number of J.P.'s, he would be pleased to add Borrow's name to the list, provided he were advised to do so by "those gentlemen residing in the neighbourhood, who, living on terms of intimacy with them [the Magistrates], will be able to maintain that union of good feeling which . . . exists in all our benches of Petty Sessions."
Borrow would have made a good magistrate, provided the offender were not a gypsy. He would have caused the wrong-doer more fear the instrument of the law rather than the law itself, and some of his sentences might possibly have been as summary as those of Judge Lynch.
"It was a fine thing," writes a contemporary, "to see the great man tackle a tramp. Then he scented the battle from afar, bearing down on the enemy with a quivering nostril. If the nomad happened to be a gypsy he was courteously addressed. But were he a mere native tatterdemalion, inclined to be truculent, Borrow's coat was off in a moment, and the challenge to decide there and then who was the better man flung forth. I have never seen such challenges accepted, for Borrow was robust and towering." {375a}
It is not strange that Borrow's application failed; for he never refused leave to the gypsies to camp upon his land, and would sometimes join them beside their campfires. Once he took a guest with him after dinner to where the gypsies were encamped. They received Borrow with every mark of respect. Presently he "began to intone to them a song, written by him in Romany, which recounted all their tricks and evil deeds. The gypsies soon became excited; then they began to kick their property about, such as barrels and tin cans; then the men began to fight and the women to part them; an uproar of shouts and recriminations set in, and the quarrel became so serious that it was thought prudent to quit the scene." {376a} "In nothing can the character of a people be read with greater certainty and exactness than in its songs," {376b} Borrow had written. {376c}
These disappointments tended to embitter Borrow, who saw in them only a conspiracy against him. There is little doubt that Lord Stradbroke's enquiries had revealed some curious gossip concerning the Master of Oulton Hall, possibly the dispute with his rector over the inability of their respective dogs to live in harmony; perhaps even the would-be magistrate's predilection for the society of gypsies, and his profound admiration for "the Fancy" had reached the Lord-Lieutenant's ears.
The unfortunate and somewhat mysterious dispute with Dr Bowring was another anxiety that Borrow had to face. He had once remarked, "It's very odd, Bowring, that you and I have never had a quarrel." {376d} In the summer of 1842 he and Bowring seem to have been on excellent terms. Borrow wrote asking for the return of the papers and manuscripts that had remained in Bowring's hands since 1829, when the Songs of Scandinavia was projected, as Borrow hoped to bring out during the ensuing year a volume entitled Songs of Denmark. The cordiality of the letter may best be judged by the fact that in it he announces his intention of having a copy of the forthcoming Bible in Spain sent "to my oldest, I may say my ONLY friend."
In 1847 Bowring wrote to Borrow enquiring as to the Russian route through Kiakhta, and asking if he could put him in the way of obtaining the information for the use of a Parliamentary Committee then enquiring into England's commercial relations with China. Borrow's reply is apparently no longer in existence; but it drew from Bowring another letter raising a question as to whether "'two hundred merchants are allowed to visit Pekin every three years.' Are you certain this is in practice now? Have you ever been to Kiakhta?" It would appear from Bowring's "if summoned, your expenses must be paid by the public," that Borrow had suggested giving evidence before the Committee, hence Bowring's question as to whether Borrow could
Borrow would have made a good magistrate, provided the offender were not a gypsy. He would have caused the wrong-doer more fear the instrument of the law rather than the law itself, and some of his sentences might possibly have been as summary as those of Judge Lynch.
"It was a fine thing," writes a contemporary, "to see the great man tackle a tramp. Then he scented the battle from afar, bearing down on the enemy with a quivering nostril. If the nomad happened to be a gypsy he was courteously addressed. But were he a mere native tatterdemalion, inclined to be truculent, Borrow's coat was off in a moment, and the challenge to decide there and then who was the better man flung forth. I have never seen such challenges accepted, for Borrow was robust and towering." {375a}
It is not strange that Borrow's application failed; for he never refused leave to the gypsies to camp upon his land, and would sometimes join them beside their campfires. Once he took a guest with him after dinner to where the gypsies were encamped. They received Borrow with every mark of respect. Presently he "began to intone to them a song, written by him in Romany, which recounted all their tricks and evil deeds. The gypsies soon became excited; then they began to kick their property about, such as barrels and tin cans; then the men began to fight and the women to part them; an uproar of shouts and recriminations set in, and the quarrel became so serious that it was thought prudent to quit the scene." {376a} "In nothing can the character of a people be read with greater certainty and exactness than in its songs," {376b} Borrow had written. {376c}
These disappointments tended to embitter Borrow, who saw in them only a conspiracy against him. There is little doubt that Lord Stradbroke's enquiries had revealed some curious gossip concerning the Master of Oulton Hall, possibly the dispute with his rector over the inability of their respective dogs to live in harmony; perhaps even the would-be magistrate's predilection for the society of gypsies, and his profound admiration for "the Fancy" had reached the Lord-Lieutenant's ears.
The unfortunate and somewhat mysterious dispute with Dr Bowring was another anxiety that Borrow had to face. He had once remarked, "It's very odd, Bowring, that you and I have never had a quarrel." {376d} In the summer of 1842 he and Bowring seem to have been on excellent terms. Borrow wrote asking for the return of the papers and manuscripts that had remained in Bowring's hands since 1829, when the Songs of Scandinavia was projected, as Borrow hoped to bring out during the ensuing year a volume entitled Songs of Denmark. The cordiality of the letter may best be judged by the fact that in it he announces his intention of having a copy of the forthcoming Bible in Spain sent "to my oldest, I may say my ONLY friend."
In 1847 Bowring wrote to Borrow enquiring as to the Russian route through Kiakhta, and asking if he could put him in the way of obtaining the information for the use of a Parliamentary Committee then enquiring into England's commercial relations with China. Borrow's reply is apparently no longer in existence; but it drew from Bowring another letter raising a question as to whether "'two hundred merchants are allowed to visit Pekin every three years.' Are you certain this is in practice now? Have you ever been to Kiakhta?" It would appear from Bowring's "if summoned, your expenses must be paid by the public," that Borrow had suggested giving evidence before the Committee, hence Bowring's question as to whether Borrow could