Rye. There is very little doubt that Bowring was a man who had no hesitation in seizing everything that presented itself and turning it, as far as possible, to his own uses. In this he was doing what most successful men have done and will continue to do. He had been kind to Borrow, and had helped him as far as lay in his power. He no doubt obtained all the information he could from Borrow, as he would have done from anyone else; but he never withheld his help. It has been suggested that he really did mention Borrow as a candidate for the Consulship and later, when in financial straits and finding that Borrow had no chance of obtaining it, accepted Lord Palmerston's offer of the post for himself. It is, however, idle to speculate what actually happened. What resulted was that Bowring as the "Old Radical" took premier place in the Appendix-inferno that closed The Romany Rye. {378a}

Fate seemed to conspire to cause Borrow chagrin. Early in 1847 it came to his knowledge that there were in existence some valuable Codices in certain churches and convents in the Levant. In particular there was said to be an original of the Greek New Testament, supposed to date from the fourth century, which had been presented to the convent on Mount Sinai by the Emperor Justinian. Borrow received information of the existence of the treasure, and also a hint that with a little address, some of these priceless manuscripts might be secured to the British Nation. It was even suggested that application might be made to the Government by the Trustees of the British Museum. {378b} Borrow's reply to this was an intimation that if requested to do so he would willingly undertake the mission. Nothing, however, came of the project, and the remainder of the manuscript of the Greek Testament (part of it had been acquired in 1843 by Tischendorf) was presented by the monks to Alexander II. and it is now in the Imperial Library at St Petersburg.

The information as to the existence of the manuscripts, it is alleged, was given to the Museum Trustees by the Hon. Robert Curzon, who had travelled much in Egypt and the Holy Land. It was certainly no fault of his that the mission was not sent out, and Borrow's subsequent antagonism to him and his family is difficult to understand and impossible to explain.

Borrow had achieved literary success: before the year 1847 The Zincali was in its Fourth Edition (nearly 10,000 copies having been printed) and The Bible in Spain had reached its Eighth Edition (nearly 20,000 copies having been printed). He was an unqualified success; yet he had been far happier when distributing Testaments in Spain. The greyness and inaction of domestic life, even when relieved by occasional excursions with Sidi Habismilk and the Son of the Miracle, were irksome to his temperament, ever eager for occupation and change of scene. He was like a war-horse champing his bit during times of peace.

"Why did you send me down six copies [of The Zincali]?" he bursts out in a letter to John Murray (29th Jan. 1846). "Whom should I send them to? Do you think I have six friends in the world? Two I have presented to my wife and daughter (in law). I shall return three to you by the first opportunity."

In 1847, through the Harveys, he became acquainted with Dr Thomas Gordon Hake, who was in practice at Brighton 1832-37 and at Bury St Edmunds 1839-53, and who was also a poet. The two families visited each other, and Dr Hake has left behind him some interesting stories about, and valuable impressions of, Borrow. Dr Hake shows clearly that he did not allow his friendship to influence his judgment when in his Memoirs he described Borrow as

"one of those whose mental powers are strong, and whose bodily frame is yet stronger--a conjunction of forces often detrimental to a literary career, in an age of intellectual predominance. His temper was good and bad; his pride was humility; his humility was pride; his vanity in being negative, was one of the most positive kind. He was reticent and candid, measured in speech, with an emphasis that made trifles significant." {379a}

This rather laboured series of paradoxes quite fails to give a convincing impression of the man. A much better idea of Borrow is to be found in a letter (1847) by a fellow-guest at a breakfast given by the Prussian Ambassador. He writes that there was present

"the amusing author of The Bible in Spain, a man who is remarkable for his extraordinary powers as a linguist, and for the originality of his character, not to speak of the wonderful adventures he narrates, and the ease and facility with which he tells them. He kept us laughing a good part of breakfast time by the oddity of his remarks, as well as the positiveness of his assertions, often rather startling, and like his books partaking of the marvellous." {380a}

Abandoning paradox, Dr Hake is more successful in his description of Borrow's person.

"His figure was tall," he tells us, "and his bearing very noble; he had a finely moulded head, and thick white hair--white from his youth; his brown eyes were soft, yet piercing; his nose somewhat of the 'semitic' type, which gave his face the cast of the young Memnon. His mouth had a generous curve; and his features, for beauty and true power, were such as can have no parallel in our portrait gallery."

When not occupied in writing, Borrow would walk about the estate with his animals, between whom and their master a perfect understanding existed. Sidi Habismilk would come to a whistle and would follow him about, and his two dogs and cat would do the same. When he went for a walk the dogs and cat would set out with him; but the cat would turn back after accompanying him for about a quarter of a mile. {381a}

The two young undergraduates who drove in a gig from Cambridge to Oulton to pay their respects to Borrow (circa 1846) described him as employed

"in training some young horses to follow him about like dogs and come at the call of his whistle. As my two friends {381b} were talking with him, Borrow sounded his whistle in a paddock near the house, which, if I remember rightly, was surrounded by a low wall. Immediately two beautiful horses came bounding over the fence and trotted up to their master. One put his nose into Borrow's outstretched hand and the other kept snuffing at his pockets in expectation of the usual bribe for confidence and good behaviour."

Borrow's love of animals was almost feminine. The screams of a hare pursued by greyhounds would spoil his appetite for dinner, and he confessed himself as "silly enough to feel disgust and horror at the squeals of a rat in the fangs of a terrier." {381c} When a favourite cat was so ill that it crawled away to die in solitude, Borrow went in search of it and, discovering the poor creature in the garden- hedge, carried it back into the house, laid it in a comfortable place and watched over it until it died. His care of the much persecuted "Church of England cat" at Llangollen {381d} is another instance of his tender-heartedness with regard to animals.

Borrow had ample evidence that he was still a celebrity. "He was much courted . . . by his neighbours and by visitors to the sea- side," Dr Hake relates; but unfortunately he allowed himself to become a prey to moods at rather inappropriate moments. As a lion, Borrow accompanied Dr Hake to some in the great houses of the neighbourhood. On one occasion they went to dine at Hardwick Hall, the residence of Sir Thomas and Lady Cullum. The last-named subsequently became a firm friend of Borrow's during many years.

"The party consisted of Lord Bristol; Lady Augusta Seymour, his daughter; Lord and Lady Arthur Hervey; Sir Fitzroy Kelly; Mr Thackeray, and 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