George Borrow

“ The scenery of Wales had a very especial appeal for him, and no wonder; for there is nothing like it in the world. Although I am familiar with the Alps and the other mountain ranges of Europe in their wildest and most beautiful recesses, it is with me as it was with Borrow: no hill scenery has the peculiar witchery of that around Eryri. It is unique in the scenery of Europe. Grander scenery there is on the Continent, no doubt—much grander—and scenery more soft and lovely; but none in which grandeur and loveliness meet and mingle in so fascinating a way as in Wales. ”

“ More choice than which these fingers ne’er
Have, skilful, at my need prepar’d.
But why have charms by me employ’d,
Less luck than her’s, Medea dread,
With which her rival she destroy’d,
Great Creon’s child, then proudly fled,
When the robe bane-imbued, her gift,
Enwrapp’d the new-wed bride in flame?
But neither herb, nor root from rift
Of lone rock ta’en, are here to blame;
In every harlot’s bed lies he
Anointed with oblivion;
Ah, ah, ’tis plain he walketh free
Protected by some mightier one.
But Varus! thou shalt suffer yet! ”

“ Had I been dreaming, I should almost have concluded it to be the genius of Africa, in the shape of its most puissant monster, who had bounded over the sea from the clime of sand and sun, bent on the destruction of the rival continent, more especially as the hue of its stony sides, its crest and chine, is tawny even as that of the hide of the desert king. A hostile lion has it almost invariably proved to Spain, at least since it first began to play a part in history, which was at the time when Tarik seized and fortified it. ”

“ One of the most remarkable features in the history of Gypsies is the striking similarity of their pursuits in every region of the globe to which they have penetrated; they are not merely alike in limb and in feature, in the cast and expression of the eye, in the colour of the hair, in their walk and gait, but everywhere they seem to exhibit the same tendencies, and to hunt for their bread by the same means, as if they were not of the human but rather of the animal species, and in lieu of reason were endowed with a kind of instinct which assists them to a very limited extent and no farther. ”

“ I recognised him at once; the horseman of the lane is now beneath the fatal tree, but nothing altered; still the same man; jerking his head to the right and left with the same fierce and under glance, just as if the affairs of this world had the same kind of interest to the last; grey coat of Newmarket cut, plush waistcoat, corduroys, and boots, nothing altered; but the head, alas! is bare, and so is the neck. Oh, crime and virtue, virtue and crime!—it was old John Newton, I think, who, when he saw a man going to be hanged, said, "There goes John Newton, but for the grace of God!" ”

“ I laugh at the bigotry and prejudices of Spain; I abhor the cruelty and ferocity which have cast a stain of eternal infamy on her history; but I will say for the Spaniards, that in their social intercourse no people in the world exhibit a juster feeling of what is due to the dignity of human nature, or better understand the behaviour which it behoves a man to adopt towards his fellow beings. I have said that it is one of the few countries in Europe where poverty is not treated with contempt, and I may add, where the wealthy are not blindly idolized. ”

“ Myself. What’s the matter with you; what are you all crying about?
Tinker (uncovering his face) . Lord, why to hear you talk; isn’t that enough to make anybody cry—even the poor babes? Yes, you said right, ’tis life in the Garden of Eden—the tinker’s; I see so now that I’m about to give it up.
Myself. Give it up! you must not think of such a thing.
Tinker. No, I can’t bear to think of it, and yet I must; what’s to be done? How hard to be frightened to death, to be driven off the roads!
Myself. Who has driven you off the roads?
Tinker. Who! the Flaming Tinman. ”

“ I loved to look upon the heavens, and to bask in the rays of the sun, or to sit beneath hedgerows and listen to the chirping of the birds, indulging the while in musing and meditation as far as my very limited circle of ideas would permit; but, unlike my brother, who was at this time at school, and whose rapid progress in every branch of instruction astonished and delighted his preceptors, I took no pleasure in books, whose use, indeed, I could scarcely comprehend, and bade fair to be as arrant a dunce as ever brought the blush of shame into the cheeks of anxious and affectionate parents. ”

“ By about eight o’clock at night, the wind had increased to a hurricane, the thunder rolled frightfully, and the only light which we had to guide us on our way was the red forked lightning which burst at times from the bosom of the big black clouds which lowered over our heads. We were exerting ourselves to the utmost to weather the cape, which we could descry by the lightning on our lee, its brow being frequently brilliantly lighted up by the flashes which quivered around it, when suddenly, with a great crash, the engine broke, and the paddles on which depended our lives ceased to play. ”

“ The inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, was a place of infinite life and bustle. Travellers of all descriptions, from all the cardinal points, were continually stopping at it; and to attend to their wants, and minister to their convenience, an army of servants, of one description or other, was kept; waiters, chambermaids, grooms, postillions, shoe-blacks, cooks, scullions, and what not, for there was a barber and hair-dresser, who had been at Paris, and talked French with a cockney accent; the French sounding all the better, as no accent is so melodious as the cockney. ”

“ The life of a shepherd, sir, is perhaps not exactly what you and some other gentlefolks think. The shepherd bears much cold and wet, sir, and he is very lonely; no society save his sheep and dog. Then, sir, he has no privileges. I mean gospel privileges. He does not look forward to Dydd Sul, as a day of llawenydd, of joy and triumph, as the weaver does; that is if he is religiously disposed. The shepherd has no chapel, sir, like the weaver. Oh, sir, I say again that I would rather be a weaver in Llangollen with five shillings a week, than a shepherd on the hill with fifteen. ”

“ Yonder in the distance, high and enormous, stands the Golden Tower, now used as a toll-house, but the principal bulwark of the city in the time of the Moors. It stands on the shore of the river, like a giant keeping watch, and is the first edifice which attracts the eye of the voyager as he moves up the stream to Seville. On the other side, opposite the tower, stands the noble Augustine convent, the ornament of the faubourg of Triana, whilst between the two edifices rolls the broad Guadalquivir, bearing on its bosom a flotilla of barks from Catalonia and Valencia. ”

“ Moreover, to Borrow, as to all lovers of Wild Wales, beautiful as its scenery is, it is the romantic associations of that scenery which form so large a portion of its charm. For what race in Europe has a story so poetic, so romantic, so pathetic as the Welsh? Over every inch of the Principality hovers that great Spirit who walks the earth hand in hand with his brother, the Spirit of Poetry, and throws a rainbow radiance over it—the Spirit of Antiquity. ”

“ I can stay here no longer.
Antonio.—The way is far to Madrilati, there are, moreover, wars in the land, and many chories walk about; are you not afraid to journey?
Myself.—I have no fears; every man must accomplish his destiny: what befalls my body or soul was written in a gabicote a thousand years before the foundation of the world.
Antonio.—I have no fears myself, brother; the dark night is the same to me as the fair day, and the wild carrascal as the market-place or the chardí; I have got the bar lachí in my bosom, the precious stone to which sticks the needle. ”

“ His thoughts went back to his old friend Petulengro, who pronounced life to be sweet: ‘There’s night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things. There’s likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?’ Yes, or to live cribbed, cabined, and confined in a London square! No wonder ‘Lavengro’ felt cross and uncomfortable. Nor did he take much pleasure in the society of the other lions of the hour, least of all of such a lion as Sir John Bowring, M.P. Was not Bowring ‘Lavengro’ as much as Borrow himself? ”

“ I began to ask myself whither I was going, and what I should do with myself and the horse which I held by the bridle? It appeared to me that I was alone in the world with the poor animal, who looked for support to me, who knew not how to support myself. Then the image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, and when I bethought me how I had lost her for ever, and how happy I might have been with her in the New World had she not deserted me, I became yet more miserable. ”

“ CELT v SAXON
Those who have seen much of the writing fraternity of London or Paris, know that the great mass of authors, whether in prose or in verse, have just as much and just as little individuality—have just as much and just as little of any new and true personal accent, as the vast flock of human sheep whose bleatings will soon drown all other voices over land and sea. They have the peculiar instinct for putting their thoughts into written words—that is all. This it is that makes Borrow such a memorable figure. If ever a man had an accent of his own that man was he. ”

“ I have lived at Llangollen, without, I hope, becoming a drunkard.”
“Oh, your honour is out of the question,” said the Celtic waiter with a strange grimace. “Your honour is an Englishman, an English gentleman, and of course could live all the days of your life at Llangollen without being a drunkard, he, he! Who ever heard of an Englishman, especially an English gentleman, being a drunkard, he, he, he. And now, your honour, pray excuse me, for I must go and see that your honour’s dinner is being got ready in a suitable manner.” ”