The Life of George Borrow [52]
on the river, and adds, "I dare say I shall continue for a long time with the Bible Society, as they see that I am useful to them and can be depended upon."
On the day following that on which Borrow wrote asking his mother to urge his brother to return home, viz., 10th/22nd November, John died. He was taken ill suddenly in the morning and passed away the same afternoon.
In February 1832 John Borrow had, much against the advice of his friends, left the United Mexican Company, which he had become associated with the previous year. He was of a restless disposition, never content with what he was doing. Thinking he could better himself, and having saved a few hundred dollars, he resigned his post. He appears soon to have discovered his mistake. First he indulged in an unfortunate speculation, by which he was a considerable loser, then cholera broke out. Without a thought of himself he turned nurse and doctor, witnessing terrible scenes of misery and death and ministering to the poor with an energy and humanity that earned for him the admiration of the whole township. Finally, finding himself in serious financial difficulties, he entered the service of the Colombian Mining Company, and was to be sent to Colombia "for the purpose of introducing the Mexican system of beneficiating there." It only remained for the agreement to be signed, when he was taken ill.
In the letter in which she tells George of their loss, Mrs Borrow expresses fear that he does "not live regular. When you find yourself low," she continues, "take a little wine, but not too much at one time; it will do you the more good; I find that by myself." Her solicitude for George's health is easily understandable. He is now her "only hope," as she pathetically tells him. "Do not grieve, my dear George," she proceeds tenderly, "I trust we shall all meet in heaven. Put a crape on your hat for some time."
George wrote immediately to acknowledge his mother's letter containing the news of John's death, which had given him "the severest stroke I ever experienced. It [the letter] quite stunned me, and since reading its contents I have done little else but moan and lament . . . O that our darling John had taken the advice which I gave him nearly three years since, to abandon that horrid country and return to England! . . . Would that I had died for him! for I loved him dearly, dearly." Borrow's affection for his bright and attractive brother is everywhere manifest in his writings. He never showed the least jealousy when his father held up his first-born as a model to the strange and incomprehensible younger son. His love for and admiration of John were genuine and deep-rooted. In the same letter he goes on to assure his mother that he was never better in his life, and that experience teaches him how to cure his disorders. "The 'Horrors,' for example. Whenever they come I must drink strong Port wine, and then they are stopped instantly. But do not think that I drink habitually, for you ought to know that I abhor drink. The 'Horrors' are brought on by weakness."
He goes on to reassure his mother as to the care he takes of himself, telling her that he has three meals a day, although, as a rule, dinner is a poor one, "for the Russians, in the first place, are very indifferent cooks, and the meat is very bad, as in fact are almost all the provisions." The fish is without taste, Russian salmon having less savour than English skate; the fowls are dry because no endeavour is made to fatten them, and the "mutton stinks worst than carrion, for they never cut the wool."
With great thought and tenderness he tells her that he wishes her "to keep a maid, for I do not like that you should live alone. Do not take one of the wretched girls of Norwich," he advises her, but rather the daughter of one of her tenants. "What am I working for here and saving money, unless it is for your comfort? for I assure you that to make you comfortable is my greatest happiness, almost my only one." Urging her to keep up her spirits and read much of the things that interest
On the day following that on which Borrow wrote asking his mother to urge his brother to return home, viz., 10th/22nd November, John died. He was taken ill suddenly in the morning and passed away the same afternoon.
In February 1832 John Borrow had, much against the advice of his friends, left the United Mexican Company, which he had become associated with the previous year. He was of a restless disposition, never content with what he was doing. Thinking he could better himself, and having saved a few hundred dollars, he resigned his post. He appears soon to have discovered his mistake. First he indulged in an unfortunate speculation, by which he was a considerable loser, then cholera broke out. Without a thought of himself he turned nurse and doctor, witnessing terrible scenes of misery and death and ministering to the poor with an energy and humanity that earned for him the admiration of the whole township. Finally, finding himself in serious financial difficulties, he entered the service of the Colombian Mining Company, and was to be sent to Colombia "for the purpose of introducing the Mexican system of beneficiating there." It only remained for the agreement to be signed, when he was taken ill.
In the letter in which she tells George of their loss, Mrs Borrow expresses fear that he does "not live regular. When you find yourself low," she continues, "take a little wine, but not too much at one time; it will do you the more good; I find that by myself." Her solicitude for George's health is easily understandable. He is now her "only hope," as she pathetically tells him. "Do not grieve, my dear George," she proceeds tenderly, "I trust we shall all meet in heaven. Put a crape on your hat for some time."
George wrote immediately to acknowledge his mother's letter containing the news of John's death, which had given him "the severest stroke I ever experienced. It [the letter] quite stunned me, and since reading its contents I have done little else but moan and lament . . . O that our darling John had taken the advice which I gave him nearly three years since, to abandon that horrid country and return to England! . . . Would that I had died for him! for I loved him dearly, dearly." Borrow's affection for his bright and attractive brother is everywhere manifest in his writings. He never showed the least jealousy when his father held up his first-born as a model to the strange and incomprehensible younger son. His love for and admiration of John were genuine and deep-rooted. In the same letter he goes on to assure his mother that he was never better in his life, and that experience teaches him how to cure his disorders. "The 'Horrors,' for example. Whenever they come I must drink strong Port wine, and then they are stopped instantly. But do not think that I drink habitually, for you ought to know that I abhor drink. The 'Horrors' are brought on by weakness."
He goes on to reassure his mother as to the care he takes of himself, telling her that he has three meals a day, although, as a rule, dinner is a poor one, "for the Russians, in the first place, are very indifferent cooks, and the meat is very bad, as in fact are almost all the provisions." The fish is without taste, Russian salmon having less savour than English skate; the fowls are dry because no endeavour is made to fatten them, and the "mutton stinks worst than carrion, for they never cut the wool."
With great thought and tenderness he tells her that he wishes her "to keep a maid, for I do not like that you should live alone. Do not take one of the wretched girls of Norwich," he advises her, but rather the daughter of one of her tenants. "What am I working for here and saving money, unless it is for your comfort? for I assure you that to make you comfortable is my greatest happiness, almost my only one." Urging her to keep up her spirits and read much of the things that interest