The Life of George Borrow [167]
ourselves. At that date, Thackeray had made money by lectures on The Satirists, and was in good swing; but he never could realise the independent feelings of those who happen to be born to fortune--a thing which a man of genius should be able to do with ease. He told Lady Cullum, which she repeated to me, that no one could conceive how it mortified him to be making a provision for his daughters by delivering lectures; and I thought she rather sympathised with him in this degradation. He approached Borrow, who, however, received him very dryly. As a last attempt to get up a conversation with him, he said, 'Have you read my Snob Papers in Punch?'"
"'In Punch?' asked Borrow. 'It is a periodical I never look at!'
"It was a very fine dinner. The plates at dessert were of gold; they once belonged to the Emperor of the French, and were marked with his "N" and his Eagle.
"Thackeray, as if under the impression that the party was invited to look at him, thought it necessary to make a figure, and absorb attention during the dessert, by telling stories and more than half acting them; the aristocratic party listening, but appearing little amused. Borrow knew better how to behave in good company, and kept quiet; though, doubtless he felt his mane." {382a}
There were other moments when Borrow caused acute embarrassment by his rudeness. Once his hostess, a simple unpretending woman desirous only of pleasing her distinguished guest, said, "Oh, Mr Borrow, I have read your books with so much pleasure!" "Pray, what books do you mean, madam? Do you mean my account books?" was the ungracious retort. He then rose from the table, fretting and fuming and walked up and down the dining-room among the servants "during the whole of the dinner, and afterwards wandered about the rooms and passage, till the carriage could be ordered for our return home." {383a} The reason for this unpardonable behaviour appears to have been ill- judged loyalty to a friend. His host was a well-known Suffolk banker who, having advanced a large sum of money to a friend of Borrow's, the heir to a considerable estate, who was in temporary difficulties, then "struck the docket" in order to secure payment. Borrow confided to another friend that he yearned "to cane the banker." His loyalty to his friend excuses his wrath; it was his judgment that was at fault. He should undoubtedly have caned the banker, in preference to going to his house as a guest and revenging his friend upon the gentle and amiable woman who could not be held responsible for her husband's business transgressions.
Unfortunate remarks seemed to have a habit of bursting from Borrow's lips. When Dr Bowring introduced to him his son, Mr F. J. Bowring, and with pardonable pride added that he had just become a Fellow of Trinity, Borrow remarked, "Ah! Fellows of Trinity always marry their bed-makers." Agnes Strickland was another victim. Being desirous of meeting him and, in spite of Borrow's unwillingness, achieving her object, she expressed in rapturous terms her admiration of his works, and concluded by asking permission to send him a copy of The Queens of England, to which he ungraciously replied, "For God's sake, don't, madam; I should not know where to put them or what to do with them." "What a damned fool that woman is!" he remarked to W. B. Donne, who was standing by. {383b}
There is a world of meaning in a paragraph from one of John Murray's (the Second) letters (21st June 1843) to Borrow in which he enquires, "Did you receive a note from Mme. Simpkinson which I forwarded ten days ago? I have not seen her since your abrupt departure from her house."
It is rather regrettable that the one side of Borrow's character has to be so emphasised. He could be just and gracious, even to the point of sternly rebuking one who represented his own religious convictions and supporting a dissenter. After a Bible Society's meeting at Mutford Bridge (the nearest village to Oulton Hall), the speakers repaired to the Hall to supper. One of the guests, an independent minister, became
"'In Punch?' asked Borrow. 'It is a periodical I never look at!'
"It was a very fine dinner. The plates at dessert were of gold; they once belonged to the Emperor of the French, and were marked with his "N" and his Eagle.
"Thackeray, as if under the impression that the party was invited to look at him, thought it necessary to make a figure, and absorb attention during the dessert, by telling stories and more than half acting them; the aristocratic party listening, but appearing little amused. Borrow knew better how to behave in good company, and kept quiet; though, doubtless he felt his mane." {382a}
There were other moments when Borrow caused acute embarrassment by his rudeness. Once his hostess, a simple unpretending woman desirous only of pleasing her distinguished guest, said, "Oh, Mr Borrow, I have read your books with so much pleasure!" "Pray, what books do you mean, madam? Do you mean my account books?" was the ungracious retort. He then rose from the table, fretting and fuming and walked up and down the dining-room among the servants "during the whole of the dinner, and afterwards wandered about the rooms and passage, till the carriage could be ordered for our return home." {383a} The reason for this unpardonable behaviour appears to have been ill- judged loyalty to a friend. His host was a well-known Suffolk banker who, having advanced a large sum of money to a friend of Borrow's, the heir to a considerable estate, who was in temporary difficulties, then "struck the docket" in order to secure payment. Borrow confided to another friend that he yearned "to cane the banker." His loyalty to his friend excuses his wrath; it was his judgment that was at fault. He should undoubtedly have caned the banker, in preference to going to his house as a guest and revenging his friend upon the gentle and amiable woman who could not be held responsible for her husband's business transgressions.
Unfortunate remarks seemed to have a habit of bursting from Borrow's lips. When Dr Bowring introduced to him his son, Mr F. J. Bowring, and with pardonable pride added that he had just become a Fellow of Trinity, Borrow remarked, "Ah! Fellows of Trinity always marry their bed-makers." Agnes Strickland was another victim. Being desirous of meeting him and, in spite of Borrow's unwillingness, achieving her object, she expressed in rapturous terms her admiration of his works, and concluded by asking permission to send him a copy of The Queens of England, to which he ungraciously replied, "For God's sake, don't, madam; I should not know where to put them or what to do with them." "What a damned fool that woman is!" he remarked to W. B. Donne, who was standing by. {383b}
There is a world of meaning in a paragraph from one of John Murray's (the Second) letters (21st June 1843) to Borrow in which he enquires, "Did you receive a note from Mme. Simpkinson which I forwarded ten days ago? I have not seen her since your abrupt departure from her house."
It is rather regrettable that the one side of Borrow's character has to be so emphasised. He could be just and gracious, even to the point of sternly rebuking one who represented his own religious convictions and supporting a dissenter. After a Bible Society's meeting at Mutford Bridge (the nearest village to Oulton Hall), the speakers repaired to the Hall to supper. One of the guests, an independent minister, became