The Life of George Borrow [17]
age in the following July. {40b} The clerkship with Simpson & Rackham would expire at the end of March. Borrow had outlined his ambitions in a letter written on 20th January 1824, when he was ill and wretched, to Roger Kerrison, then in London: "If ever my health mends [this has reference to a very unpleasant complaint he had contracted], and possibly it may by the time my clerkship is expired, I intend to live in London, write plays, poetry, etc., abuse religion and get myself prosecuted," for he was tired of the "dull and gloomy town." It was therefore with a feeling of relief that, on the evening of 1st April, he took his seat on the top of the London coach, his hopes centred in a small green box that he carried with him. It contained his stock-in-trade as an author: his beloved manuscripts, "closely written over in a singular hand."
Among the bundles of papers were:
(i.) The Ancient Songs of Denmark, heroic and romantic, translated by himself, with notes philological, critical and historical.
(ii.) The Songs of Ab Gwilym, the Welsh Bard, also translated by himself, with notes critical, philological and historical. {41a}
(iii.) A romance in the German style.
In addition to his manuscripts, Borrow had some twenty or thirty pounds, his testimonials, and a letter from William Taylor to Sir Richard Phillips, the publisher, to whose New Magazine he had already contributed a number of translations of poems. He had also printed in The Monthly Magazine and The New Monthly Magazine translations of verse from the German, Swedish, Dutch, Danish and Spanish, and an essay on Danish ballad writing.
On the morning of 2nd April there arrived at 16 Milman Street, Bedford Row, London, W.C.,
"A lad who twenty tongues can talk, And sixty miles a day can walk; Drink at a draught a pint of rum, And then be neither sick nor dumb; Can tune a song and make a verse, And deeds of Northern kings rehearse; Who never will forsake his friend While he his bony fist can bend; And, though averse to broil and strife, Will fight a Dutchman with a knife; O that is just the lad for me, And such is honest six-foot-three." {42a}
It was through the Kerrisons that Borrow went to 16 Milman Street, where Roger was lodging. His apartments seem to have been dismal enough, consisting of "a small room, up two pair of stairs, in which I was to sit, and another, still smaller, above it, in which I was to sleep." After the first feeling of loneliness had passed, dispelled largely by a bright fire and breakfast, he sallied forth, the contents of the green box under his arm, to present his letter of introduction to Sir Richard Phillips, {42b} in whom centred his hopes of employment.
On arriving at the publisher's house in Tavistock Square, he was immediately shown into Sir Richard's study, where he found "a tall, stout man, about sixty, dressed in a loose morning gown," and with him his confidential clerk Bartlett (the Taggart of Lavengro). Sir Richard was at first enthusiastic and cordial, but when he learned from William Taylor's letter that Borrow had come up to earn his livelihood by authorship, his manner underwent a marked change. The bluff, hearty expression gave place to "a sinister glance," and Borrow found that within that loose morning gown there was a second Sir Richard.
He learned two things--first, that Sir Richard Phillips had retired from publishing and had reserved only The Monthly Magazine; {43a} secondly, that literature was a drug upon the market. With airy self-assertiveness, the ex-publisher dismissed the contents of the green box that Borrow had brought with him, which had already aroused considerable suspicion in the mind of the maid who had admitted him to the publisher's presence.
When he had thoroughly dashed the young author's hopes of employment, Sir Richard informed him of a new publication he had in preparation, The Universal Review [The Oxford Review of Lavengro], which was to support the son of the house and the wife he had married. With a promise that he should become a contributor
Among the bundles of papers were:
(i.) The Ancient Songs of Denmark, heroic and romantic, translated by himself, with notes philological, critical and historical.
(ii.) The Songs of Ab Gwilym, the Welsh Bard, also translated by himself, with notes critical, philological and historical. {41a}
(iii.) A romance in the German style.
In addition to his manuscripts, Borrow had some twenty or thirty pounds, his testimonials, and a letter from William Taylor to Sir Richard Phillips, the publisher, to whose New Magazine he had already contributed a number of translations of poems. He had also printed in The Monthly Magazine and The New Monthly Magazine translations of verse from the German, Swedish, Dutch, Danish and Spanish, and an essay on Danish ballad writing.
On the morning of 2nd April there arrived at 16 Milman Street, Bedford Row, London, W.C.,
"A lad who twenty tongues can talk, And sixty miles a day can walk; Drink at a draught a pint of rum, And then be neither sick nor dumb; Can tune a song and make a verse, And deeds of Northern kings rehearse; Who never will forsake his friend While he his bony fist can bend; And, though averse to broil and strife, Will fight a Dutchman with a knife; O that is just the lad for me, And such is honest six-foot-three." {42a}
It was through the Kerrisons that Borrow went to 16 Milman Street, where Roger was lodging. His apartments seem to have been dismal enough, consisting of "a small room, up two pair of stairs, in which I was to sit, and another, still smaller, above it, in which I was to sleep." After the first feeling of loneliness had passed, dispelled largely by a bright fire and breakfast, he sallied forth, the contents of the green box under his arm, to present his letter of introduction to Sir Richard Phillips, {42b} in whom centred his hopes of employment.
On arriving at the publisher's house in Tavistock Square, he was immediately shown into Sir Richard's study, where he found "a tall, stout man, about sixty, dressed in a loose morning gown," and with him his confidential clerk Bartlett (the Taggart of Lavengro). Sir Richard was at first enthusiastic and cordial, but when he learned from William Taylor's letter that Borrow had come up to earn his livelihood by authorship, his manner underwent a marked change. The bluff, hearty expression gave place to "a sinister glance," and Borrow found that within that loose morning gown there was a second Sir Richard.
He learned two things--first, that Sir Richard Phillips had retired from publishing and had reserved only The Monthly Magazine; {43a} secondly, that literature was a drug upon the market. With airy self-assertiveness, the ex-publisher dismissed the contents of the green box that Borrow had brought with him, which had already aroused considerable suspicion in the mind of the maid who had admitted him to the publisher's presence.
When he had thoroughly dashed the young author's hopes of employment, Sir Richard informed him of a new publication he had in preparation, The Universal Review [The Oxford Review of Lavengro], which was to support the son of the house and the wife he had married. With a promise that he should become a contributor