Souvenir of the George Borrow Celebration | Page 6

"coloured up and poetized" in
"Lavengro," of Borrow's earliest journeyings and adventures; truly in
his case adventures were to the adventurous. Having had all the wild
experiences just outlined, small wonder that the strange lad was not
very adaptable when, as a free scholar, he came under the rule of the
Rev. Edward Valpy at Norwich Grammar School.

Section II. NORWICH (1816-24)--SCHOOL, LAW, AND
LANGUAGES.
The criss-cross experiences of his boyhood, together with his mixed
Cornish and Gallic heredity, were elements that very largely helped to
create the whimsical character of George Borrow. We have now come
to the time when the old soldier, with his pension of eight shillings a
day, and his excellent and devoted wife, settled with their two sons at
the little house in Willow Lane, Norwich.
[Picture: Borrow's House, Willow Lane]

For a short time in 1814, when his parents lodged in St. Stephen's,
young George was sent to the Grammar School; but now, in 1816,
settled comfortably in Norwich, he was again sent to the Grammar
School, under the Rev. Edward Valpy, called by Dr. Knapp "a severe
master," by Mr. Walling "a martinet," whose "principal claims to
fame," says Mr. Jenkins, "are his severity, his having flogged the
conqueror of the 'Flaming Tinman,' and his destruction of the School
Records of Admission, which dated back to the sixteenth century."
Against this chorus of denunciation, I will quote from a letter the late
Dr. Martineau wrote me about Borrow: "It is true that I had to hoist
(not 'horse') Borrow for his flogging; but not that there was anything
exceptional, or capable of leaving permanent scars in the infliction: Mr.
Valpy was not given to excess of that kind." It is a pity that the earliest
biographers did not get the opinion of some of Borrow's surviving
schoolfellows as to their old master. Dr. Knapp, in 1899, stated that Dr.
Martineau (died January 11th, 1900), and Dr. W. E. Image, D.L., J.P.,
of Herringswell House, Suffolk (died September 26th, 1903), were the
only survivors of Borrow's schoolmates. Amongst these was Thomas
Borrow Burcham, the London Police Magistrate, who, there is good
reason to believe, was a cousin of George's, as his father married a
Mary Perfrement, and T. B. Burcham was christened at East Dereham
Church.
[Picture: The Winding River, near Norwich. Lent by Mrs. E. Peake]
[Picture: The Yare at Earlham, near Norwich. By Mr. E. Peake]
It is quite noteworthy that Borrow makes no mention of his term at the
Grammar School in "Lavengro," but, after his Irish experiences, opens
a chapter with the following eloquent description of Norwich:--
"A fine old city, truly, is that, view it from whatever side you will, but
it shows best from the east, where the ground, bold and elevated,
overlooks the fair and fertile valley in which it stands. Gazing from
those heights, the eye beholds a scene which cannot fail to awaken,
even in the least sensitive bosom, feelings of pleasure and admiration.
At the foot of the heights flows a narrow and deep river, with an
antique bridge communicating with a long and narrow suburb, flanked

on either side by rich meadows of the brightest green, beyond which
spreads the city, the fine old city, perhaps the most curious specimen at
present extant of the genuine old English town. Yes, there it spreads
from north to south, with its venerable houses, its numerous gardens, its
thrice twelve churches, its mighty mound, which, if tradition speaks
true, was raised by human hands to serve as the grave heap of an old
heathen king, who sits deep within it, with his sword in his hand and
his gold and silver treasures about him. There is a grey old castle upon
the top of that mighty mound; and yonder, rising three hundred feet
above the soil, from among those noble forest trees, behold that old
Norman master-work, that cloud encircled cathedral spire, around
which a garrulous army of rooks and choughs continually wheel their
flight. Now, who can wonder that the children of that fine old city are
proud of her, and offer up prayers for her prosperity? I, myself, who
was not born within her walls, offer up prayers for her prosperity, that
want may never visit her cottages."
"It was yonder, to the west, that the great naval hero of Britain first saw
the light; he who annihilated the sea pride of Spain and dragged the
humble banner of France in triumph at his stern. He was born yonder to
the west, and of him there is a glorious relic in that old town; in its dark
flint guildhouse, the roof of which you can just descry rising above that
maze of buildings, in the upper hall of justice, is a species of glass
shrine,