The Life of George Borrow [80]
he could do something to heal the spiritual wounds of the wretched country, he assured Mr Brandram, he would never again return to England.
On 1st December Mr Brandram wrote to Borrow expressing deep sympathy with all he had been through, and adding: "If you go forward . . . we will help you by prayer. If you retreat we shall welcome you cordially." He appears to have written before consulting with the Committee, who, on hearing of the actual state of affairs in Spain, became filled with misgiving and anxiety for the safety of their agent, who seemed to be destitute of fear. Mr Brandram had been content for Borrow to go forward if he so decided, but, as he wrote later, "your prospective dangers, while they created an absorbing interest, were viewed in different lights by the Committee," who thought they had "no right to commit you to such perils. My own feeling was that, while I could not urge you forward, there were peculiarities in your history and character that I would not keep you back if you were minded to go. A few felt with me--most, however, thought that you should have been restrained." {187a} It was decided therefore to forbid him to proceed on his hazardous adventure, and accordingly a letter was addressed to him care of the British Consul at Cadiz. If Borrow received this he disregarded the instructions it contained.
Cadiz proved to be in a state of great confusion. It was reported that numerous bands of Carlists were in the neighbourhood, and the whole city was in a state of ferment in consequence. In the coffee- houses the din of tongues was deafening; would-be orators, sometimes as many as six at one time, sprang up upon chairs and tables and ventilated their political views. The paramount, nay, the only, interest was not in the words of Christ; but the probable doings of the Carlists.
On the night of his arrival Borrow was taken ill with what, at the time, he thought to be cholera, and for some time in the little "cock-loft or garret" that had been allotted to him at the over- crowded French hotel, he was "in most acute pain, and terribly sick," drinking oil mixed with brandy. For two days he was so exhausted as to be able to do nothing.
On the morning of the 24th he embarked in a small Spanish steamer bound for Seville, which was reached that same night. The sun had dissipated the melancholy and stupor left by his illness, and by the time he arrived at Seville he was repeating Latin verses and fragments of old Spanish ballads to a brilliant moon. The condition of affairs at Seville was as bad if not worse than at Cadiz. There was scarcely any communication with the capital, the diligences no longer ran, and even the fearless arrieros (muleteers) declined to set out. Famine, plunder and murder were let loose over the land. Bands of banditti robbed, tortured and slew in the name of Don Carlos. They stripped the peasantry of all they possessed, and the poor wretches in turn became brigands and preyed upon those weaker than themselves. Through all this Borrow had to penetrate in order to reach Madrid. Had the road been familiar to him he would have performed the journey alone, dressed either as a beggar or as a gypsy. It is obvious that he appreciated the hazardous nature of the journey he was undertaking, for he asked Mr Brandram, in the event of his death, to keep the news from old Mrs Borrow as long as possible and then to go down to Norwich and break it to her himself.
At Seville Borrow encountered Baron Taylor, {188a} whom he states that he had first met at Bayonne (during the "veiled period"), and later in Russia, beside the Bosphorus, and finally in the South of Ireland. Than Baron Taylor there was no one for whom Borrow entertained "a greater esteem and regard . . . There is a mystery about him which, wherever he goes, serves not a little to increase the sensation naturally created by his appearance and manner." {189a} Borrow was much attracted to this mysterious personage, about whom nothing could be asserted "with downright positiveness."
From Seville Borrow
On 1st December Mr Brandram wrote to Borrow expressing deep sympathy with all he had been through, and adding: "If you go forward . . . we will help you by prayer. If you retreat we shall welcome you cordially." He appears to have written before consulting with the Committee, who, on hearing of the actual state of affairs in Spain, became filled with misgiving and anxiety for the safety of their agent, who seemed to be destitute of fear. Mr Brandram had been content for Borrow to go forward if he so decided, but, as he wrote later, "your prospective dangers, while they created an absorbing interest, were viewed in different lights by the Committee," who thought they had "no right to commit you to such perils. My own feeling was that, while I could not urge you forward, there were peculiarities in your history and character that I would not keep you back if you were minded to go. A few felt with me--most, however, thought that you should have been restrained." {187a} It was decided therefore to forbid him to proceed on his hazardous adventure, and accordingly a letter was addressed to him care of the British Consul at Cadiz. If Borrow received this he disregarded the instructions it contained.
Cadiz proved to be in a state of great confusion. It was reported that numerous bands of Carlists were in the neighbourhood, and the whole city was in a state of ferment in consequence. In the coffee- houses the din of tongues was deafening; would-be orators, sometimes as many as six at one time, sprang up upon chairs and tables and ventilated their political views. The paramount, nay, the only, interest was not in the words of Christ; but the probable doings of the Carlists.
On the night of his arrival Borrow was taken ill with what, at the time, he thought to be cholera, and for some time in the little "cock-loft or garret" that had been allotted to him at the over- crowded French hotel, he was "in most acute pain, and terribly sick," drinking oil mixed with brandy. For two days he was so exhausted as to be able to do nothing.
On the morning of the 24th he embarked in a small Spanish steamer bound for Seville, which was reached that same night. The sun had dissipated the melancholy and stupor left by his illness, and by the time he arrived at Seville he was repeating Latin verses and fragments of old Spanish ballads to a brilliant moon. The condition of affairs at Seville was as bad if not worse than at Cadiz. There was scarcely any communication with the capital, the diligences no longer ran, and even the fearless arrieros (muleteers) declined to set out. Famine, plunder and murder were let loose over the land. Bands of banditti robbed, tortured and slew in the name of Don Carlos. They stripped the peasantry of all they possessed, and the poor wretches in turn became brigands and preyed upon those weaker than themselves. Through all this Borrow had to penetrate in order to reach Madrid. Had the road been familiar to him he would have performed the journey alone, dressed either as a beggar or as a gypsy. It is obvious that he appreciated the hazardous nature of the journey he was undertaking, for he asked Mr Brandram, in the event of his death, to keep the news from old Mrs Borrow as long as possible and then to go down to Norwich and break it to her himself.
At Seville Borrow encountered Baron Taylor, {188a} whom he states that he had first met at Bayonne (during the "veiled period"), and later in Russia, beside the Bosphorus, and finally in the South of Ireland. Than Baron Taylor there was no one for whom Borrow entertained "a greater esteem and regard . . . There is a mystery about him which, wherever he goes, serves not a little to increase the sensation naturally created by his appearance and manner." {189a} Borrow was much attracted to this mysterious personage, about whom nothing could be asserted "with downright positiveness."
From Seville Borrow