Lavengro

G >> George Borrow >> Lavengro


With respect to my mind and its qualities I shall be more explicit; for,
were I to maintain much reserve on this point, many things which appear
in these memoirs would be highly mysterious to the reader, indeed
incomprehensible. Perhaps no two individuals were ever more unlike in
mind and disposition than my brother and myself: as light is opposed to
darkness, so was that happy, brilliant, cheerful child to the sad and
melancholy being who sprang from the same stock as himself, and was
nurtured by the same milk.

Once, when travelling in an Alpine country, I arrived at a considerable
elevation; I saw in the distance, far below, a beautiful stream hastening
to the ocean, its rapid waters here sparkling in the sunshine, and there
tumbling merrily in cascades. On its banks were vineyards and cheerful
villages; close to where I stood, in a granite basin with steep and
precipitous sides, slumbered a deep, dark lagoon, shaded by black pines,
cypresses, and yews. It was a wild, savage spot, strange and singular;
ravens hovered above the pines, filling the air with their uncouth notes,
pies chattered, and I heard the cry of an eagle from a neighbouring peak;
there lay the lake, the dark, solitary, and almost inaccessible lake;
gloomy shadows were upon it, which, strangely modified, as gusts of wind
agitated the surface, occasionally assumed the shape of monsters. So I
stood on the Alpine elevation, and looked now on the gay distant river,
and now at the dark granite-encircled lake close beside me in the lone
solitude, and I thought of my brother and myself. I am no moraliser; but
the gay and rapid river, and the dark and silent lake, were, of a verity,
no had emblems of us two.

So far from being quick and clever like my brother, and able to rival the
literary feat which I have recorded of him, many years elapsed before I
was able to understand the nature of letters, or to connect them. A
lover of nooks and retired corners, I was as a child in the habit of
fleeing from society, and of sitting for hours together with my head on
my breast. What I was thinking about, it would be difficult to say at
this distance of time; I remember perfectly well, however, being ever
conscious of a peculiar heaviness within me, and at times of a strange
sensation of fear, which occasionally amounted to horror, and for which I
could assign no real cause whatever.

By nature slow of speech, I took no pleasure in conversation, nor in
hearing the voices of my fellow-creatures. When people addressed me, I
not unfrequently, especially if they were strangers, turned away my head
from them, and if they persisted in their notice burst into tears, which
singularity of behaviour by no means tended to dispose people in my
favour. I was as much disliked as my brother was deservedly beloved and
admired. My parents, it is true, were always kind to me; and my brother,
who was good nature itself, was continually lavishing upon me every mark
of affection.

There was, however, one individual who, in the days of my childhood, was
disposed to form a favourable opinion of me. One day, a Jew--I have
quite forgotten the circumstance, but I was long subsequently informed of
it--one day a travelling Jew knocked at the door of a farmhouse in which
we had taken apartments; I was near at hand sitting in the bright
sunshine, drawing strange lines on the dust with my fingers, an ape and
dog were my companions; the Jew looked at me and asked me some questions,
to which, though I was quite able to speak, I returned no answer. On the
door being opened, the Jew, after a few words, probably relating to
pedlery, demanded who the child was, sitting in the sun; the maid replied
that I was her mistress's youngest son, a child weak _here_, pointing to
her forehead. The Jew looked at me again, and then said: ''Pon my
conscience, my dear, I believe that you must be troubled there yourself
to tell me any such thing. It is not my habit to speak to children,
inasmuch as I hate them, because they often follow me and fling stones
after me; but I no sooner looked at that child than I was forced to speak
to it--his not answering me shows his sense, for it has never been the
custom of the wise to fling away their words in indifferent talk and
conversation; the child is a sweet child, and has all the look of one of
our people's children. Fool, indeed! did I not see his eyes sparkle just
now when the monkey seized the dog by the ear?--they shone like my own
diamonds--does your good lady want any--real and fine? Were it not for
what you tell me, I should say it was a prophet's child. Fool, indeed!
he can write already, or I'll forfeit the box which I carry on my back,
and for which I should be loth to take two hundred pounds!' He then
leaned forward to inspect the lines which I had traced. All of a sudden
he started back, and grew white as a sheet; then, taking off his hat, he
made some strange gestures to me, cringing, chattering, and showing his
teeth, and shortly departed, muttering something about 'holy letters,'
and talking to himself in a strange tongue. The words of the Jew were in
due course of time reported to my mother, who treasured them in her
heart, and from that moment began to entertain brighter hopes of her
youngest born than she had ever before ventured to foster.

{picture:All of a sudden he started back, and grew white as a sheet:
page13.jpg}




CHAPTER II


Barracks and lodgings--A camp--The viper--A delicate child--Blackberry
time--_Meun_ and _tuum_--Hythe--The Golgotha--Daneman's skull--Superhuman
stature--Stirring times--The sea-bord.

I have been a wanderer the greater part of my life; indeed I remember
only two periods, and these by no means lengthy, when I was, strictly
speaking, stationary. I was a soldier's son, and as the means of my
father were by no means sufficient to support two establishments, his
family invariably attended him wherever he went, so that from my infancy
I was accustomed to travelling and wandering, and looked upon a monthly
change of scene and residence as a matter of course. Sometimes we lived
in barracks, sometimes in lodgings, but generally in the former, always
eschewing the latter from motives of economy, save when the barracks were
inconvenient and uncomfortable; and they must have been highly so indeed,
to have discouraged us from entering them; for though we were gentry
(pray bear that in mind, gentle reader), gentry by birth, and
incontestably so by my father's bearing the commission of good old George
the Third, we were not _fine gentry_, but people who could put up with as
much as any genteel Scotch family who find it convenient to live on a
third floor in London, or on a sixth at Edinburgh or Glasgow. It was not
a little that could discourage us: we once lived within the canvas walls
of a camp, at a place called Pett, in Sussex; and I believe it was at
this place that occurred the first circumstance, or adventure, call it
which you will, that I can remember in connection with myself: it was a
strange one, and I will relate it.

It happened that my brother and myself were playing one evening in a
sandy lane, in the neighbourhood of this Pett camp; our mother was at a
slight distance. All of a sudden, a bright yellow, and, to my infantine
eye, beautiful and glorious, object made its appearance at the top of the
bank from between the thick quickset, and, gliding down, began to move
across the lane to the other side, like a line of golden light. Uttering
a cry of pleasure, I sprang forward, and seized it nearly by the middle.
A strange sensation of numbing coldness seemed to pervade my whole arm,
which surprised me the more, as the object to the eye appeared so warm
and sunlike. I did not drop it, however, but, holding it up, looked at
it intently, as its head dangled about a foot from my hand. It made no
resistance; I felt not even the slightest struggle; but now my brother
began to scream and shriek like one possessed. 'O mother, mother!' said
he, 'the viper!--my brother has a viper in his hand!' He then, like one
frantic, made an effort to snatch the creature away from me. The viper
now hissed amain, and raised its head, in which were eyes like hot coals,
menacing, not myself, but my brother. I dropped my captive, for I saw my
mother running towards me; and the reptile, after standing for a moment
nearly erect, and still hissing furiously, made off, and disappeared. The
whole scene is now before me, as vividly as if it occurred yesterday--the
gorgeous viper, my poor dear frantic brother, my agitated parent, and a
frightened hen clucking under the bushes--and yet I was not three years
old.

It is my firm belief that certain individuals possess an inherent power,
or fascination, over certain creatures, otherwise I should be unable to
account for many feats which I have witnessed, and, indeed, borne a share
in, connected with the taming of brutes and reptiles. I have known a
savage and vicious mare, whose stall it was dangerous to approach, even
when bearing provender, welcome, nevertheless, with every appearance of
pleasure, an uncouth, wiry-headed man, with a frightfully seamed face,
and an iron hook supplying the place of his right hand, one whom the
animal had never seen before, playfully bite his hair, and cover his face
with gentle and endearing kisses; and I have already stated how a viper
would permit, without resentment, one child to take it up in his hand,
whilst it showed its dislike to the approach of another by the fiercest
hissings. Philosophy can explain many strange things, but there are some
which are a far pitch above her, and this is one.

I should scarcely relate another circumstance which occurred about this
time but for a singular effect which it produced upon my constitution. Up
to this period I had been rather a delicate child; whereas, almost
immediately after the occurrence to which I allude, I became both hale
and vigorous, to the great astonishment of my parents, who naturally
enough expected that it would produce quite a contrary effect.

It happened that my brother and myself were disporting ourselves in
certain fields near the good town of Canterbury. A female servant had
attended us, in order to take care that we came to no mischief: she,
however, it seems, had matters of her own to attend to, and, allowing us
to go where we listed, remained in one corner of a field, in earnest
conversation with a red-coated dragoon. Now it chanced to be blackberry
time, and the two children wandered under the hedges, peering anxiously
among them in quest of that trash so grateful to urchins of their degree.
We did not find much of it, however, and were soon separated in the
pursuit. All at once I stood still, and could scarcely believe my eyes.
I had come to a spot where, almost covering the hedge, hung clusters of
what seemed fruit--deliciously-tempting fruit--something resembling
grapes of various colours, green, red, and purple. Dear me, thought I,
how fortunate! yet have I a right to gather it? is it mine? for the
observance of the law of _meum_ and _tuum_ had early been impressed upon
my mind, and I entertained, even at that tender age, the utmost horror
for theft; so I stood staring at the variegated clusters, in doubt as to
what I should do. I know not how I argued the matter in my mind; the
temptation, however, was at last too strong for me, so I stretched forth
my hand and ate. I remember, perfectly well, that the taste of this
strange fruit was by no means so pleasant as the appearance; but the idea
of eating fruit was sufficient for a child, and, after all, the flavour
was much superior to that of sour apples, so I ate voraciously. How long
I continued eating I scarcely know. One thing is certain, that I never
left the field as I entered it, being carried home in the arms of the
dragoon in strong convulsions, in which I continued for several hours.
About midnight I awoke, as if from a troubled sleep, and beheld my
parents bending over my couch, whilst the regimental surgeon, with a
candle in his hand, stood nigh, the light feebly reflected on the
whitewashed walls of the barrack-room.

Another circumstance connected with my infancy, and I have done. I need
offer no apology for relating it, as it subsequently exercised
considerable influence over my pursuits. We were, if I remember right,
in the vicinity of a place called Hythe, in Kent. One sweet evening, in
the latter part of summer, our mother took her two little boys by the
hand, for a wander about the fields. In the course of our stroll we came
to the village church; an old, gray-headed sexton stood in the porch,
who, perceiving that we were strangers, invited us to enter. We were
presently in the interior, wandering about the aisles, looking on the
walls, and inspecting the monuments of the notable dead. I can scarcely
state what we saw; how should I? I was a child not yet four years old,
and yet I think I remember the evening sun streaming in through a stained
window upon the dingy mahogany pulpit, and flinging a rich lustre upon
the faded tints of an ancient banner. And now once more we were outside
the building, where, against the wall, stood a low-eaved pent-house, into
which we looked. It was half filled with substances of some kind, which
at first looked like large gray stones. The greater part were lying in
layers; some, however, were seen in confused and mouldering heaps, and
two or three, which had perhaps rolled down from the rest, lay separately
on the floor. 'Skulls, madam,' said the sexton; 'skulls of the old
Danes! Long ago they came pirating into these parts; and then there
chanced a mighty shipwreck, for God was angry with them, and He sunk
them; and their skulls, as they came ashore, were placed here as a
memorial. There were many more when I was young, but now they are fast
disappearing. Some of them must have belonged to strange fellows, madam.
Only see that one; why, the two young gentry can scarcely lift it!' And,
indeed, my brother and myself had entered the Golgotha, and commenced
handling these grim relics of mortality. One enormous skull, lying in a
corner, had fixed our attention, and we had drawn it forth. Spirit of
eld, what a skull was yon!

{picture:'Skulls, madam,' said the sexton; 'skulls of the old Danes.':
page18.jpg}

I still seem to see it, the huge grim thing; many of the others were
large, strikingly so, and appeared fully to justify the old man's
conclusion that their owners must have been strange fellows; but,
compared with this mighty mass of bone, they looked small and diminutive
like those of pigmies; it must have belonged to a giant, one of those red-
haired warriors of whose strength and stature such wondrous tales are
told in the ancient chronicles of the north, and whose grave-hills, when
ransacked, occasionally reveal secrets which fill the minds of puny
moderns with astonishment and awe. Reader, have you ever pored days and
nights over the pages of Snorro?--probably not, for he wrote in a
language which few of the present day understand, and few would be
tempted to read him tamed down by Latin dragomans. A brave old book is
that of Snorro, containing the histories and adventures of old northern
kings and champions, who seemed to have been quite different men, if we
may judge from the feats which they performed, from those of these days;
one of the best of his histories is that which describes the life of
Harald Haardraade, who, after manifold adventures by land and sea, now a
pirate, now a mercenary of the Greek emperor, became king of Norway, and
eventually perished at the battle of Stamford Bridge, whilst engaged in a
gallant onslaught upon England. Now, I have often thought that the old
Kemp, whose mouldering skull in the Golgotha of Hythe my brother and
myself could scarcely lift, must have resembled in one respect at least
this Harald, whom Snorro describes as a great and wise ruler and a
determined leader, dangerous in battle, of fair presence and measuring in
height just _five ells_, {19} neither more nor less.

I never forgot the Daneman's skull; like the apparition of the viper in
the sandy lane, it dwelt in the mind of the boy, affording copious food
for the exercise of imagination. From that moment with the name of Dane
were associated strange ideas of strength, daring, and superhuman
stature; and an undefinable curiosity for all that is connected with the
Danish race began to pervade me; and if, long after, when I became a
student I devoted myself with peculiar zest to Danish lore and the
acquirement of the old Norse tongue and its dialects, I can only explain
the matter by the early impression received at Hythe from the tale of the
old sexton, beneath the pent-house, and the sight of the Danish skull.

And thus we went on straying from place to place, at Hythe to-day, and
perhaps within a week looking out from our hostel-window upon the streets
of old Winchester, our motions ever in accordance with the 'route' of the
regiment, so habituated to change of scene that it had become almost
necessary to our existence. Pleasant were these days of my early
boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals over me as I recall them. Those
were stirring times of which I am speaking, and there was much passing
around me calculated to captivate the imagination. The dreadful struggle
which so long convulsed Europe, and in which England bore so prominent a
part, was then at its hottest; we were at war, and determination and
enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman, and child were eager to fight
the Frank, the hereditary, but, thank God, never dreaded enemy of the
Anglo-Saxon race. 'Love your country and beat the French, and then never
mind what happens,' was the cry of entire England. Oh, those were days
of power, gallant days, bustling days, worth the bravest days of chivalry
at least; tall battalions of native warriors were marching through the
land; there was the glitter of the bayonet and the gleam of the sabre;
the shrill squeak of the fife and loud rattling of the drum were heard in
the streets of country towns, and the loyal shouts of the inhabitants
greeted the soldiery on their arrival, or cheered them at their
departure. And now let us leave the upland, and descend to the sea-bord;
there is a sight for you upon the billows! A dozen men-of-war are
gliding majestically out of port, their long buntings streaming from the
top-gallant masts, calling on the skulking Frenchman to come forth from
his bights and bays; and what looms upon us yonder from the fog-bank in
the east? a gallant frigate towing behind her the long low hull of a
crippled privateer, which but three short days ago had left Dieppe to
skim the sea, and whose crew of ferocious hearts are now cursing their
imprudence in an English hold. Stirring times those, which I love to
recall, for they were days of gallantry and enthusiasm, and were moreover
the days of my boyhood.




CHAPTER III


Pretty D-----The venerable church--The stricken heart--Dormant
energies--The small packet--Nerves--The books--A picture--Mountain-like
billows--The footprint--Spirit of De Foe--Reasoning powers--Terrors of
God--Heads of the dragons--High-Church clerk--A journey--The drowned
country.

And when I was between six and seven years of age we were once more at
D---, the place of my birth, whither my father had been despatched on the
recruiting service. I have already said that it was a beautiful little
town--at least it was at the time of which I am speaking--what it is at
present I know not, for thirty years and more have elapsed since I last
trod its streets. It will scarcely have improved, for how could it be
better than it then was? I love to think on thee, pretty quiet D---,
thou pattern of an English country town, with thy clean but narrow
streets branching out from thy modest market-place, with thine
old-fashioned houses, with here and there a roof of venerable thatch,
with thy one half-aristocratic mansion, where resided thy Lady
Bountiful--she, the generous and kind, who loved to visit the sick,
leaning on her gold-headed cane, whilst the sleek old footman walked at a
respectful distance behind. Pretty quiet D---, with thy venerable
church, in which moulder the mortal remains of England's sweetest and
most pious bard.

Yes, pretty D---, I could always love thee, were it but for the sake of
him who sleeps beneath the marble slab in yonder quiet chancel. It was
within thee that the long-oppressed bosom heaved its last sigh, and the
crushed and gentle spirit escaped from a world in which it had known
nought but sorrow. Sorrow! do I say? How faint a word to express the
misery of that bruised reed; misery so dark that a blind worm like myself
is occasionally tempted to exclaim, Better had the world never been
created than that one so kind, so harmless, and so mild, should have
undergone such intolerable woe! But it is over now, for, as there is an
end of joy, so has affliction its termination. Doubtless the All-wise
did not afflict him without a cause: who knows but within that unhappy
frame lurked vicious seeds which the sunbeams of joy and prosperity might
have called into life and vigour? Perhaps the withering blasts of misery
nipped that which otherwise might have terminated in fruit noxious and
lamentable. But peace to the unhappy one, he is gone to his rest; the
death-like face is no longer occasionally seen timidly and mournfully
looking for a moment through the window-pane upon thy market-place, quiet
and pretty D-; the hind in thy neighbourhood no longer at evening-fall
views, and starts as he views, the dark lathy figure moving beneath the
hazels and alders of shadowy lanes, or by the side of murmuring trout
streams, and no longer at early dawn does the sexton of the old church
reverently doff his hat, as, supported by some kind friend, the death-
stricken creature totters along the church-path to that mouldering
edifice with the low roof, inclosing a spring of sanatory waters, built
and devoted to some saint, if the legend over the door be true, by the
daughter of an East Anglian king.

But to return to my own history. I had now attained the age of six:
shall I state what intellectual progress I had been making up to this
period? Alas! upon this point I have little to say calculated to afford
either pleasure or edification; I had increased rapidly in size and in
strength: the growth of the mind, however, had by no means corresponded
with that of the body. It is true, I had acquired my letters, and was by
this time able to read imperfectly; but this was all: and even this poor
triumph over absolute ignorance would never have been effected but for
the unremitting attention of my parents, who, sometimes by threats,
sometimes by entreaties, endeavoured to rouse the dormant energies of my
nature, and to bend my wishes to the acquisition of the rudiments of
knowledge; but in influencing the wish lay the difficulty. Let but the
will of a human being be turned to any particular object, and it is ten
to one that sooner or later he achieves it. At this time I may safely
say that I harboured neither wishes nor hopes; I had as yet seen no
object calculated to call them forth, and yet I took pleasure in many
things which perhaps unfortunately were all within my sphere of
enjoyment. 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.

But the time was now at hand when the ice which had hitherto bound the
mind of the child with its benumbing power was to be thawed, and a world
of sensations and ideas awakened to which it had hitherto been an entire
stranger. One day a young lady, an intimate acquaintance of our family,
and godmother to my brother, drove up to the house in which we dwelt; she
stayed some time conversing with my mother, and on rising to depart, she
put down on the table a small packet, exclaiming, 'I have brought a
little present for each of the boys: the one is a History of England,
which I intend for my godson when he returns from school, the other is .
. .'--and here she said something which escaped my ear, as I sat at some
distance, moping in a corner,--'I intend it for the youngster yonder,'
pointing to myself; she then departed, and, my mother going out shortly
after, I was left alone.

I remember for some time sitting motionless in my corner, with my eyes
bent upon the ground; at last I lifted my head and looked upon the packet
as it lay on the table. All at once a strange sensation came over me,
such as I had never experienced before--a singular blending of curiosity,
awe, and pleasure, the remembrance of which, even at this distance of
time, produces a remarkable effect upon my nervous system. What strange
things are the nerves--I mean those more secret and mysterious ones in
which I have some notion that the mind or soul, call it which you will,
has its habitation; how they occasionally tingle and vibrate before any
coming event closely connected with the future weal or woe of the human
being. Such a feeling was now within me, certainly independent of what
the eye had seen or the ear had heard. A book of some description had
been brought for me, a present by no means calculated to interest me;
what cared I for books? I had already many into which I never looked but
from compulsion; friends, moreover, had presented me with similar things
before, which I had entirely disregarded, and what was there in this
particular book, whose very title I did not know, calculated to attract
me more than the rest? yet something within told me that my fate was
connected with the book which had been last brought; so, after looking on
the packet from my corner for a considerable time, I got up and went to
the table.