The Romany Rye

by George Borrow

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE OLD MAN'S STORY CONTINUED--MISERY IN THE HEAD--THE STRANGEMARKS--TEA-DEALER FROM LONDON--DIFFICULTIES OF THE CHINESE LANGUAGE

  After another pause the old man once more resumed his narration: 'If everthere was a man perfectly miserable it was myself, after the loss of thatcherished woman. I sat solitary in the house, in which I had hoped inher company to realize the choicest earthly happiness, a prey to thebitterest reflections; many people visited and endeavoured to consoleme--amongst them was the clergyman of the parish, who begged me to beresigned, and told me that it was good to be afflicted. I bowed my head,but I could not help thinking how easy it must be for those who feel noaffliction, to bid others to be resigned, and to talk of the benefitresulting from sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more attention to hisdiscourse than I did, provided he had been a person for whom it waspossible to entertain much respect, but his own heart was known to be seton the things of this world.

  'Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own case, ofpractising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of being afflicted.A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all his fortune, in the hope of alarge interest, became suddenly a bankrupt, with scarcely any assets. Iwill not say that it was owing to this misfortune that the divine diedwithin less than a month after its occurrence, but such was the fact.Amongst those who most frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon;he did not confine himself to the common topics of consolation, butendeavoured to impress upon me the necessity of rousing myself, advisingme to occupy my mind with some pursuit, particularly recommendingagriculture; but agriculture possessed no interest for me, nor, indeed,any pursuit within my reach; my hopes of happiness had been blighted, andwhat cared I for anything; so at last he thought it best to leave me tomyself, hoping that time would bring with it consolation; and I remainedsolitary in my house, waited upon by a male and a female servant. Oh,what dreary moments I passed! My only amusement--and it was a sadone--was to look at the things which once belonged to my beloved, andwhich were now in my possession. Oh, how fondly would I dwell upon them!There were some books; I cared not for books, but these had belonged tomy beloved. Oh, how fondly did I dwell on them! Then there was her hatand bonnet--oh, me, how fondly did I gaze upon them! and after looking ather things for hours, I would sit and ruminate on the happiness I hadlost. How I execrated the moment I had gone to the fair to sell horses!"Would that I had never been at Horncastle to sell horses!" I would say;"I might at this moment have been enjoying the company of my beloved,leading a happy, quiet, easy life, but for that fatal expedition." Thatthought worked on my brain, till my brain seemed to turn round.

  'One day I sat at the breakfast table gazing vacantly around me, my mindwas in a state of inexpressible misery; there was a whirl in my brain,probably like that which people feel who are rapidly going mad; thisincreased to such a degree that I felt giddiness coming upon me. Toabate this feeling I no longer permitted my eyes to wander about, butfixed them upon an object on the table, and continued gazing at it forseveral minutes without knowing what it was. At length the misery in myhead was somewhat stilled, my lips moved, and I heard myself saying,"What odd marks!" I had fastened my eyes on the side of a teapot, and bykeeping them fixed upon it, had become aware of a fact that had escapedmy notice before--namely, that there were marks upon it. I kept my eyesfixed upon them, and repeated at intervals, "What strange marks!"--for Ithought that looking upon the marks tended to abate the whirl in my head.I kept tracing the marks one after the other, and I observed that thoughthey all bore a resemblance to each other, they were all to a certainextent different. The smallest portion possible of curious interest hadbeen awakened within me, and, at last, I asked myself within my own mind,"What motive could induce people to put such odd marks on their crockery?They were not pictures, they were not letters. What motive could peoplehave for putting them there?" At last I removed my eyes from the teapot,and thought for a few moments about the marks; presently, however, I feltthe whirl returning; the marks became almost effaced from my mind, and Iwas beginning to revert to my miserable ruminations, when suddenlymethought I heard a voice say, "The marks! the marks! cling to the marks!or--" So I fixed my eyes again upon the marks, inspecting them moreattentively, if possible, than I had done before, and, at last, I came tothe conclusion that they were not capricious or fanciful marks, but werearranged systematically. When I had gazed at them for a considerabletime I turned the teapot round, and on the other side I observed marks ofa similar kind, which I soon discovered were identical with the ones Ihad been observing. All the marks were something alike, but all somewhatdifferent, and on comparing them with each other, I was struck with thefrequent occurrence of a mark crossing an upright line, or projectingfrom it, now on the right, now on the left side, and I said to myself,"Why does this mark sometimes cross the upright line, and sometimesproject?" and the more I thought on the matter the less did I feel of themisery in my head.

  'The things were at length removed, and I sat, as I had for some timepast been wont to sit after my meals, silent and motionless; but in thepresent instance my mind was not entirely abandoned to the one mournfulidea which had so long distressed it. It was, to a certain extent,occupied with the marks on the teapot; it is true that the mournful ideastrove hard with the marks on the teapot for the mastery in my mind, andat last the painful idea drove the marks of the teapot out. They,however, would occasionally return and flit across my mind for a momentor two, and their coming was like a momentary relief from intense pain.I thought once or twice that I would have the teapot placed before me,that I might examine the marks at leisure, but I considered that it wouldbe as well to defer the re-examination of the marks till the nextmorning. At that time I did not take tea of an evening. By deferringthe examination thus, I had something to look forward to on the nextmorning. The day was a melancholy one, but it certainly was moretolerable to me than any of the others had been since the death of mybeloved. As I lay awake that night I occasionally thought of the marks,and in my sleep methought I saw them upon the teapot vividly before me.On the morrow I examined the marks again. How singular they looked!Surely they must mean something, and if so, what could they mean? and atlast I thought within myself whether it would be possible for me to makeout what they meant. That day I felt more relief than on the precedingday, and towards night I walked a little about.

  'In about a week's time I received a visit from my friend the surgeon.After a little discourse, he told me that he perceived I was better thanwhen he had last seen me, and asked me what I had been about. I told himthat I had been principally occupied in considering certain marks which Ihad found on a teapot, and wondering what they could mean. He smiled atfirst, but instantly assuming a serious look, he asked to see the teapot.I produced it, and after having surveyed the marks with attention, heobserved that they were highly curious, and also wondered what theymeant. "I strongly advise you," said he, "to attempt to make them out,and also to take moderate exercise, and to see after your concerns." Ifollowed his advice. Every morning I studied the marks on the teapot,and in the course of the day took moderate exercise, and attended tolittle domestic matters, as became the master of a house.

  'I subsequently learned that the surgeon, in advising me to study themarks, and endeavour to make out their meaning, merely hoped that bymeans of them my mind might by degrees be diverted from the mournful ideaon which it had so long brooded. He was a man well skilled in hisprofession, but had read and thought very little on matters unconnectedwith it. He had no idea that the marks had any particular signification,or were anything else but common and fortuitous ones. That I became atall acquainted with their nature was owing to a ludicrous circumstancewhich I will now relate.

  'One day, chancing to be at a neighbouring town, I was struck with theappearance of a shop recently established. It had an immense bow-window,and every part of it to which a brush could be applied was painted in agaudy flaming style. Large bowls of green and black te
a were placed uponcertain chests, which stood at the window. I stopped to look at them;such a display, whatever it may be at the present time, being, at theperiod of which I am speaking, quite uncommon in a country town. Thetea, whether black or green, was very shining and inviting, and thebowls, of which there were three, standing on as many chests, were verygrand and foreign-looking. Two of these were white, with figures andtrees painted upon them in blue; the other, which was the middlemost, hadneither trees nor figures upon it, but, as I looked through the window,appeared to have on its sides the very same kind of marks which I hadobserved on the teapot at home; there were also marks on the tea-chestssomewhat similar, but much larger, and, apparently, not executed with somuch care. "Best teas direct from China," said a voice close to my side,and looking round I saw a youngish man with a frizzled head, flat face,and an immensely wide mouth, standing in his shirt-sleeves by the door."Direct from China," said he. "Perhaps you will do me the favour to walkin and scent them?" "I do not want any tea," said I; "I was onlystanding at the window examining those marks on the bowl and the chests.I have observed similar ones on a teapot at home." "Pray walk in, sir,"said the young fellow, extending his mouth till it reached nearly fromear to ear--"pray walk in, and I shall be happy to give you anyinformation respecting the manners and customs of the Chinese in mypower." Thereupon I followed him into his shop, where he began toharangue on the manners, customs, and peculiarities of the Chinese,especially their manner of preparing tea, not forgetting to tell me thatthe only genuine Chinese tea ever imported into England was to be foundin his shop. "With respect to those marks," said he, "on the bowl andthe chests, they are nothing more nor less than Chinese writingexpressing something, though what I can't exactly tell you. Allow me tosell you this pound of tea," he added, showing me a paper parcel. "Onthe envelope there is a printed account of the Chinese system of writing,extracted from authors of the most established reputation. These thingsI print, principally with the hope of in some degree removing the worsethan Gothic ignorance prevalent amongst the natives of these parts. I amfrom London myself. With respect to all that relates to the Chinese realImperial tea, I assure you, sir, that--" Well, to make short of what youdoubtless consider a very tiresome story, I purchased the tea and carriedit home. The tea proved imperially bad, but the paper envelope reallycontained some information on the Chinese language and writing, amountingto about as much as you gained from me the other day. On learning thatthe marks on the teapot expressed words, I felt my interest with respectto them considerably increased, and returned to the task of inspectingthem with greater zeal than before, hoping, by continually looking atthem, to be able eventually to understand their meaning, in which hopeyou may easily believe I was disappointed, though my desire to understandwhat they represented continued on the increase. In this dilemma Idetermined to apply again to the shopkeeper from whom I bought the tea.I found him in rather low spirits, his shirt-sleeves were soiled, and hishair was out of curl. On my inquiring how he got on, he informed me thathe intended speedily to leave, having received little or noencouragement, the people in their Gothic ignorance preferring to dealwith an old-fashioned shopkeeper over the way, who, so far frompossessing any acquaintance with the polity and institutions of theChinese, did not, he firmly believed, know that tea came from China."You are come for some more, I suppose?" said he. On receiving an answerin the negative he looked somewhat blank, but when I added that I came toconsult with him as to the means which I must take in order to acquirethe Chinese language he brightened up. "You must get a grammar," saidhe, rubbing his hands. "Have you not one?" said I. "No," he replied,"but any bookseller can procure you one." As I was taking my departurehe told me that as he was about to leave the neighbourhood the bowl atthe window which bore the inscription, besides some other pieces ofporcelain of a similar description, were at my service, provided I choseto purchase them. I consented, and two or three days afterwards tookfrom off his hands all the china in his possession which boreinscriptions, paying what he demanded. Had I waited till the sale of hiseffects, which occurred within a few weeks, I could probably haveprocured it for a fifth part of the sum which I paid, the other piecesrealizing very little. I did not, however, grudge the poor fellow whathe got from me, as I considered myself to be somewhat in his debt for theinformation he had afforded me.

  'As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly told. I followed theadvice of the shopkeeper and applied to a bookseller, who wrote to hiscorrespondent in London. After a long interval, I was informed that if Iwished to learn Chinese I must do so through the medium of French, therebeing neither Chinese grammar nor dictionary in our language. I was atfirst very much disheartened. I determined, however, at last to gratifymy desire of learning Chinese, even at the expense of learning French. Iprocured the books, and in order to qualify myself to turn them toaccount, took lessons in French from a little Swiss, the usher of aneighbouring boarding-school. I was very stupid in acquiring French;perseverance, however, enabled me to acquire a knowledge sufficient forthe object I had in view. In about two years I began to study Chinese bymyself through the medium of the French.'

  'Well,' said I, 'and how did you get on with the study of Chinese?'

  And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with the studyof Chinese, enumerating all the difficulties he had had to encounter,dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and occasionally hisutter despair of ever mastering Chinese. He told me that more than oncehe had determined upon giving up the study, but then the misery in hishead forthwith returned, to escape from which he had as often resumed it.It appeared, however, that ten years elapsed before he was able to useten of the two hundred and fourteen keys which serve to undo the locks ofChinese writing.

  'And are you able at present to use the entire number?' I demanded.

  'Yes,' said the old man; 'I can at present use the whole number. I knowthe key for every particular lock, though I frequently find the wordsunwilling to give way.'

  'Has nothing particular occurred to you,' said I, 'during the time thatyou have been prosecuting your studies?'

  'During the whole time in which I have been engaged in these studies,'said the old man, 'only one circumstance has occurred which requires anyparticular mention--the death of my old friend the surgeon, who wascarried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. His death was a great shockto me, and for a time interrupted my studies. His son, however, whosucceeded him, was very kind to me, and, in some degree, supplied hisfather's place; and I gradually returned to my Chinese locks and keys.'

  'And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ your time?'

  'Yes,' said the old man, 'in making out the inscriptions on the variouspieces of porcelain, which I have at different times procured, I pass mytime. The first inscription which I translated was that on the teapot ofmy beloved.'

  'And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at present in yourpossession?'

  'About fifteen hundred.'

  'And how did you obtain them?' I demanded.

  'Without much labour,' said the old man, 'in the neighbouring towns andvillages--chiefly at auctions--of which, about twenty years ago, therewere many in these parts.'

  'And may I ask your reasons for confining your studies entirely to thecrockery literature of China, when you have all the rest at yourdisposal?'

  'The inscriptions enable me to pass my time,' said the old man; 'whatmore would the whole literature of China do?'

  'And from those inscriptions,' said I, 'what a book it is in your powerto make, whenever so disposed! "Translations from the crockeryliterature of China." Such a book would be sure to take. Even gloriousJohn himself would not disdain to publish it.'

  The old man smiled. 'I have no desire for literary distinction,' saidhe; 'no ambition. My original wish was to pass my life in easy, quietobscurity--with her whom I loved. I was disappointed in my wish; she wasremoved, who constituted my only felicity in this life: desolation cameto my heart, and
misery to my head. To escape from the latter I hadrecourse to Chinese. By degrees the misery left my head, but thedesolation of heart yet remains.'

  'Be of good cheer,' said I. 'Through the instrumentality of thisaffliction you have learnt Chinese, and, in so doing, learnt to practisethe duties of hospitality. Who but a man who could read Runes on ateapot, would have received an unfortunate wayfarer as you have receivedme?'

  'Well,' said the old man, 'let us hope that all is for the best. I am bynature indolent, and, but for this affliction, should, perhaps, havehardly taken the trouble to do my duty to my fellow-creatures. I amvery, very indolent,' said he, slightly glancing towards the clock;'therefore let us hope that all is for the best. But, oh! these trials,they are very hard to bear.'