Who was George Barrow?
Leave it to the encyclopedias of today and the Internet to brush over this writer who traveled extensively and as he traveled, not only learned the customs and languages of the country but became so much a part of the story. One could excerpt from his writings enough materials to create other books in their entirety in such a way that they would become marvels in their own right.
Such is the case of The Bible in Spain. True, this is his narrative of how he introduced the bible to the Spanish in 1835, but it's not a story about the bible, it's about the people and how they in their own way become a part of a vision of their beautiful country with all its diverse regions and environment. It is also a study on integration of peoples of different backgrounds.
It's a documentation of the results of the Spanish Inquisition, one of man's early attempts to solve the problem of how different peoples should live together. The answer for the time was to rid the country of all but the chosen. Did this succeed? Hardly.
Or it's a study of architecture, the buildings of peasants, to nobility and all between, from the lowly mud huts, to those with slate and stone, to cathedrals, village squares and castles.
Or it's a study of the people; mule skinners, gypsies, farmers, soldiers, scoundrels, beggars, Jew, gentile, Catholics, Arabs and international opportunist and travelers.
Or it's a story of horses. How many ways are there to describe a horse? Barrow knew them all, from the flea-bitten nag that should be on its way to a soap factory, to the Arabian, and beyond. If that's not enough, he throws in enough to fill a book about donkeys and mules to boot.
No one describes the art of horse trading better than did George Borrow some one hundred and sixty five years ago. In his book by the very misleading name, The Bible in Spain, he gives not only description of the horses and their owners but the methodology in trading that has wide application to business today, horse-trading not excluded. Take the following excerpt from his book:
"We put up at a mean posada (A lodging; from posar, to sit down or lodge, hence lodging-house, tavern, or small hotel. The genuine Spanish town inn is called the posada, as being meant to mean a house of repose after the pains of travel. Strictly speaking , the keeper is only bound to provide lodging, salt, and the power of cooking whatever the traveler brings with him or can procure out-of-doors, and in this it differs from the fonda, in which meats and drinks are furnished.) in the suburb for the purpose of refreshing our horses. Several cavalry soldiers were quartered there, who instantly came forth, and began, with the eyes of connoisseurs, to inspect my Andalusian entero (stallion).
"A capital horse that would be for our troop," said the corporal; "what a chest he has! By what right do you travel with that horse, senor, when so many are wanted for the queen's service? He belongs to the requiso (Government requisition)."
"I travel with him by right of purchase, and being an Englishman," I replied. "Oh, your worship is an Englishman," answered the corporal; "that, indeed, alters the matter. The English in Spain are allowed to do what they please with their own, which is more than the Spaniards are. Cavalier, I have seen your countrymen in the Basque provinces; vaya (A common exclamation or interjection, "The erray (gentleman, more commonly rai or in English, Roman rye.) knows us, the poor Ca1ore (gypsy, or brother of the black blood (a kalo rat)!And he an Englishman! Bullati (ass hole)! I should not have thought that there was e'er a Busno (Gentile, a man who is not a gypsy) would know us in these parts, where Gitanos (gypsy. Corrupted form of Egyptian.) are never seen. Yes, your worship is right; we are all here of the blood of the Calore (gypsy). We are from Melegrana (Granada region of Spain), your worship; they took us from thence and sent us to the wars. Your worship is right; the sight of that horse made us believe we were at home again in the mercado (marketplace) of Granada; he (referring to the stallion) is a countryman of ours, a real Andalou.(Andalusian) Por dios, (for God) your worship, sell us that horse; we are poor Calore, (gypsies) but we can buy him."
"You forget that you are soldiers," said I. "How should you buy my horse?"
"We are soldiers, your worship," said the corporal, "but we are still Calore (gypsies). We buy and sell bestis;(animals) the captain of our troop is in league with us. We have been to the wars, but not to fight; we left that to the Busne (non-gypsy). We have kept together, and, like true Calore (gypsy) have stood back to back. We have made money in the wars, your worship. No tenga usted cuidao.(Don't trouble yourself.) We can buy your horse."
Here he pulled out a purse, which contained at least ten ounces of gold.
"If I were willing to sell," I replied, "what would you give me for that horse?"
"Then your worship wishes to sell your horse-that alters the matter. We will give ten dollars for your worship's horse. He is good for nothing."
"How is this?" said I. "You this moment told me he was a fine horse-an Andalusian, and a countryman of yours."
"No, senor! we did not say that he was an Andalou. We said he was an Estremou, (Inhabitant of the province of Estremadura) and the worst of his kind. He is eighteen years old, your worship, short-winded and galled."
"I do not wish to sell my horse," said I; "quite the contrary. I had rather buy than sell."
"Your worship does not wish to sell your horse," said the gypsy. "Stay, your worship; we will give sixty dollars for your worship's horse."
"I would not sell him for two hundred and sixty. Meclis, Meclis!(leave off have done!) say no more. I know your gypsy tricks. I will have no dealings with you."
"Did I not hear your worship say that you wished to buy a horse?" said the gypsy.
"I do not want to buy a horse," said I; "if I need anything it is a pony to carry our baggage. But it is getting late."
"Stay, your worship, do not be in a hurry," said the gypsy; "I have got the very pony which will suit you."
Without waiting for my answer, he hurried into the stable, from whence he presently returned, leading an animal by a halter. It was a pony of about thirteen hands high, of a dark red colour; it was very much galled all over, the marks of ropes and thongs being visible on its hide. The figure, however, was good, and there was an extraordinary brightness in its eye.
"There, your worship," said the gypsy; "there is the best pony in all Spain."
"What do you mean by showing me this wretched creature?" said I.
"This wretched creature," said the gypsy, "is a better horse than your Andalou"!
"Perhaps you would not exchange," said I, smiling.
"Senor, what I say is, that lie shall run with your Andalou, and beat him."
"He looks feeble," said I; "his work is well-nigh done."
"Feeble as he is, senor, you could not manage him; no, nor any Englishman in Spain."
I looked at the creature again, and was still more struck with its figure. I was in need of a pony to relieve occasionally the horse of Antonio in carrying the baggage which we had brought from Madrid, and though the condition of this was wretched, I thought that by kind treatment I might possibly soon bring him round.
"May I mount this animal?" I demanded.
"He is a baggage pony, senor, and is ill to mount, he will suffer none but myself to mount him, who am his master. When he once commences running, nothing will stop him but the sea. He springs over hills and mountains, and leaves them behind in a moment. If you will mount him, senor, suffer me to fetch a bridle, for you can never hold him in with the halter."
"This is nonsense," said I. "You pretend that he is spirited in order to enhance the price. I tell you his work is done."
I took the halter in my hand and mounted. I was no sooner on his back than the creature, who had before stood stone still, without displaying the slightest inclination to move, and who in fact gave no farther indication of existence than occasionally rolling his eyes and pricking up an ear, sprang forward like a racehorse, at a most desperate gallop. I had expected that he might kick or fling himself down on the ground, in order to get rid of his burden, but for this escapade I was quite unprepared. I had no difficulty, however, in keeping on his back, having been accustomed from my childhood to ride without a saddle. To stop him, however, baffled all my endeavours, and I almost began to pay credit to the words of the gypsy, who had said that he would run on until he reached the sea. I had, however, a strong arm, and I tugged at the halter until I compelled him to turn slightly his neck, which from its stiffness might almost have been of wood; he, however, did not abate his speed for a moment. On the left side of the road down which he was dashing was a deep trench, just where the road took a turn towards the right, and over this he sprang in a sideward direction. The halter broke with the effort; the pony shot forward like an arrow, whilst I fell back into the dust."Senor," said the gypsy, coming up with the most serious countenance in the world, "I told you not to mount that animal unless well bridled and bitted. He is a baggage pony, and will suffer none to mount his back, with the exception of myself who feed him." (Here he whistled, and the animal, who was scurrying over the field, and occasionally kicking up his heels, instantly returned with a gentle neigh.) "Now, your worship, see how gentle he is. He is a capital baggage pony, and will carry all you have over the hills of Galicia."
"What do you ask for him?" said I.
"Senor, as your worship is an Englishman, and a good ginete, (good horseman) and, moreover, understands the ways of the Calore and their tricks and their language also, I will sell him to you a bargain. I will take two hundred and sixty dollars for him, and no less." That is a large sum," said I.
"No, senor, not at all, considering that he is a baggage pony, and belongs to the troop, and is not mine to sell.""
At this George Borrow leaves us to our own thoughts as to whether he bought the pony or not. (He didn't.)
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If language were taught using George Borrow's books as models, how quickly would translations become a part of the vocabulary. In the above he sprinkles throughout his writing the words in use by those he dealt with. Translation often becomes dated losing exactly the intent of the speaker, the author or the one who translates can easily confuse the most pedantic. In the case of Don Quixote, the learned ones still squabble over the meanings of words and phrases used by Cervantes. If they and others who work on such matters would only follow Borrow's lead and intersperse the words of the country with the English (If that be the language in which the translation appears.) And, following the example set by Jorge, provide a Glossary, well indexed, for interpretation if needed.
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The question: Who was George Barrow?
BORROW, GEORGE HENRY (1803 - 1881). British traveler, linguist and writer. He mastered about 30 modern languages, and in his youth associated with Gypsies. As an agent of a Bible society, he traveled through many countries of Europe. His fame rest on his Bible on Spain, and Lavengro; also the sequel to the latter, Romany Rye. (From the New Modern Encyclopedia, Wise and Company, 1947.) Other books by George Barrow are; The Gypsies of Spain, Wild Walse and Romano Lavo-Lil. There is a book entitled; Life of George Borrow by Herbert Jenkins. Of note about the book, The Bible in Spain, is that it went through at least Eighteen editions and was reprinted 11 times (based on information in the book published in 1923 by G. P. Putnam's Sons in New York.)
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