CHAPTER XXV: SEPTEMBER 1849-FEBRUARY 1854

One of the finest traits in Borrow's character was his devotion to his mother. He was always thoughtful for her comfort, even when fighting that almost hopeless battle in Russia, and later in the midst of bandits and bloody patriots in Spain. She was now, in 1849, an old woman, too feeble to live alone, and it was decided to transfer her to Oulton. An addition to the Hall was constructed for her accommodation, and she was to be given an attendant-companion in the person of the daughter of a local farmer.

For thirty-three years she had lived in the little house in Willow Lane; yet it was not she, but Borrow, who felt the parting from old associations. "I wish," she writes to her daughter-in-law on 16th September 1849, "my dear George would not have such fancies about the old house; it is a mercy it has not fallen on my head before this." The old lady was anxious to get away. It would not be safe, she thought, for her to be shut up alone, as the old woman who had looked after her could, for some reason or other, do so no longer. She urges her daughter-in-law to represent this to Borrow.

"There is a low, noisy set close to me," she continues. "I shall not die one day sooner, or live one day longer. If I stop here and die on a sudden, half the things might be lost or stolen, therefore it seems as if the Lord would provide me a SAFER HOME. I have made up my mind to the change and only pray that I may be able to get through the trouble."

It would appear that the move, which took place at the end of September, was brought about by the old lady's appeals and insistence, and that Borrow himself was not anxious for it. He felt a sentimental attachment to the old place, which for so many years had been a home to him.

In 1853 Borrow removed to Great Yarmouth. During the summer of that year, Dr Hake had peremptorily ordered Mrs George Borrow not to spend the ensuing winter and spring at Oulton, and the move was made in August. The change was found to be beneficial to Mrs Borrow and agreeable to all, and for the next seven years (Aug. 1853-June 1860) Borrow's headquarters were to be at Great Yarmouth, where he and his family occupied various lodgings.

Shortly before leaving Oulton, Borrow had received the following interesting letter from FitzGerald:-

BOULGE, WOODBRIDGE, 22nd July 1853.

MY DEAR SIR,--I take the liberty of sending you a book [Six Dramas from Calderon], of which the title-page and advertisement will sufficiently explain the import. I am afraid that I shall in general be set down at once as an impudent fellow in making so free with a Great Man; but, as usual, I shall feel least fear before a man like yourself, who both do fine things in your own language and are deep read in those of others. I mean, that whether you like or not what I send you, you will do so from knowledge and in the candour which knowledge brings.

I had even a mind to ask you to look at these plays before they were printed, relying on our common friend Donne for a mediator; but I know how wearisome all MS. inspection is; and, after all, the whole affair was not worth giving you such a trouble. You must pardon all this, and believe me,--Yours very faithfully,

EDWARD FITZGERALD.

Soon after his arrival by the sea, Borrow performed an act of bravery of which The Bury Post (17th Sept. 1852) gave the following account, most likely written by Dr Hake:-

"INTREPIDITY.--Yarmouth jetty presented an extra-ordinary and thrilling spectacle on Thursday, the 8th inst., about one o'clock. The sea raged frantically, and a ship's boat, endeavouring to land for water, was upset, and the men were engulfed in a wave some thirty feet high, and struggling with it in vain. The moment was an awful one, when George Borrow, the well-known author of Lavengro, and The Bible in Spain, dashed into the surf and saved one life, and through his instrumentality the others were saved. We ourselves have known this brave and gifted man for years, and, daring as was this deed we have known him more than once to risk his life for others. We are happy to add that he has sustained no material injury."

Borrow was a splendid swimmer. {404a} In the course of one of his country walks with Robert Cooke (John Murray's partner), with whom he was on very friendly terms, "he suggested a bathe in the river along which they were walking. Mr Cooke told me that Borrow, having stripped, took a header into the water and disappeared. More than a minute had elapsed, and as there were no signs of his whereabouts, Mr Cooke was becoming alarmed, lest he had struck his head or been entangled in the weeds, when Borrow suddenly reappeared a considerable distance off, under the opposite bank of the stream, and called out 'What do you think of that?'" {404b}

Elizabeth Harvey, in telling the same story, says that on coming up he exclaimed: "There, if that had been written in one of my books, they would have said it was a lie, wouldn't they?"

The paragraph about Borrow's courage was printed in various newspapers throughout the country, amongst others in the Plymouth Mail under the heading of "Gallant Conduct of Mr G. Borrow," and was read by Borrow's Cornish kinsmen, who for years had heard nothing of Thomas Borrow. Apparently quite convinced that George was his son, they deputed Robert Taylor, a farmer of Penquite Farm (who had married Anne Borrow, granddaughter of Henry Borrow), to write to Borrow and invite him to visit Trethinnick. The letter was dated 10th October and directed to "George Borrow, Yarmouth." Borrow replied as follows:-

YARMOUTH, 14th Octr., 1853.

MY DEAR SIR,--I beg leave to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 10th inst. in which you inform me of the kind desire of my Cornish relatives to see me at Trethinnock (sic). Please to inform them that I shall be proud and happy to avail myself of their kindness and to make the acquaintance of "one and all" {405a} of them. My engagements will prevent my visiting them at present, but I will appear amongst them on the first opportunity. I am delighted to learn that there are still some living at Trethinnock who remember my honoured father, who had as true a Cornish heart as ever beat.

I am at present at Yarmouth, to which place I have brought my wife for the benefit of her health; but my residence is Oulton Hall, Lowestoft, Suffolk. With kind greetings to my Cornish kindred, in which my wife and my mother join,--I remain, my dear Sir, ever sincerely yours, -

GEORGE BORROW.

Borrow was not free to visit his kinsfolk until the following Christmas. First advising Robert Taylor of his intention, and receiving his approval and instructions for the journey, Borrow set out from Great Yarmouth on 23rd December. He spent the night at Plymouth. Next morning on finding the Liskeard coach full, he decided to walk. Leaving his carpet-bag to be sent on by the mail, and throwing over his arm the cloak that had seen many years of service, he set out upon his eighteen-mile tramp. He arrived at Liskeard in the afternoon, and was met by his cousin Henry Borrow and Robert Taylor, as well as by several local celebrities.

After tea Borrow, accompanied by Robert Taylor, rode to Penquite, four miles away. "Ride by night to Penquite, Borrow records in his Journal. House of stone and slate on side of a hill. Mrs Taylor. Hospitable reception. Christmas Eve. Log on fire." He found alive of his own generation, Henry, William, Thomas, Elizabeth (who lived to be 94 years of age) and Nicholas, the children of Henry Borrow, Captain Borrow's eldest brother. Also Anne, daughter of Henry, who married Robert Taylor, and their daughter, likewise named Anne, and William Henry, son of Nicholas.

In the Cornish Note Books there appears under the date of 3rd January the following entry: "Rain and snow. Rode with Mr Taylor to dine at Trethinnick. House dilapidated. A family party. Hospitable people." On first entering his father's old home tears had sprung to Borrow's eyes, and he was much affected. There was present at the dinner the vicar of St Cleer, the Rev. J. R. P. Berkeley, a pleasant Irish clergyman who, years later, was able to give to Dr Knapp an account of what took place. He noticed the "vast difference in appearance and manners between the simple yet shrewd Cornish farmers and the betravelled gentleman their kinsman;" yet for all this there were shades of resemblance--in a look, some turn of thought or tone of voice. George Borrow was not at his best that evening, Mr Berkeley relates of the dinner at Trethinnick:

"his feelings were too much excited. He was thinking of the time when his father's footsteps and his father's voice re-echoed in the room in which we were sitting. His eyes wandered from point to point, and at times, if I was not mistaken, a tear could be seen trembling in them. At length he could no longer control his feelings. He left the hall suddenly, and in a few moments, but for God's providential care, the career of George Borrow would have been ended. There was within a few feet of the house a low wall with a drop of some feet into a paved yard. He walked rapidly out, and, it being nearly dark, he stepped one side of the gate and fell over the wall. He did not mention the accident, although he bruised himself a good deal, and it was some days before I heard of it. His words to me that evening, when bidding me good-bye, were: 'Well, we have shared the old-fashioned hospitality of old-fashioned people in an old-fashioned house.'" {407a}

Borrow created something of a sensation in the neighbourhood. As a celebrity his autograph was much sought after; but he would gratify nobody. His hosts experienced many little surprises from their guest's strange ways. He would plunge into a moorland pool to fetch a bird that had fallen to his gun, or, round the family fireside, he would shout his ballads of the North, at one time alarming his audience by seizing a carving-knife and brandishing it about in the air to emphasize the passionate nature of his song. When a card-