or of mercy, "leaning on her gold-headed cane, whilst the sleek old footman walked at a respectful distance behind." {9c) On Sundays, from the black leather-covered seat in the church-pew, he would contemplate with large-eyed wonder the rector and James Philo his clerk, "as they read their respective portions of the venerable liturgy," sometimes being lulled to sleep by the monotonous drone of their voices.
On fine Sundays there was the evening walk "with my mother and brother--a quiet, sober walk, during which I would not break into a run, even to chase a butterfly, or yet more a honey-bee, being fully convinced of the dread importance of the day which God had hallowed. And how glad I was when I had got over the Sabbath day without having done anything to profane it. And how soundly I slept on the Sabbath night after the toil of being very good throughout the day." {10a}
During these early years there was being photographed upon the brain of George Borrow a series of impressions which, to the end of his life, remained as vivid as at the moment they were absorbed. What appeared to those around him as dull-witted stupidity was, in reality, mental surfeit. His mind was occupied with other things than books, things that it eagerly took cognisance of, strove to understand and was never to forget. {10b} Hitherto he had taken "no pleasure in books . . . and bade fair to be as arrant a dunce as ever brought the blush of shame into the cheeks of anxious and affectionate parents." {10c} His mind was not ready for them. When the time came there was no question of dullness: he proved an eager and earnest student.
One day an intimate friend of Mrs Borrow's, who was also godmother to John, brought with her a present of a book for each of the two boys, a history of England for the elder and for the younger Robinson Crusoe. Instantly George became absorbed.
"The true chord had now been touched . . . Weeks succeeded weeks, months followed months, and the wondrous volume was my only study and principal source of amusement. For hours together I would sit poring over a page till I had become acquainted with the import of every line. My progress, slow enough at first, became by degrees more rapid, till at last, under a 'shoulder of mutton sail,' I found myself cantering before a steady breeze over an ocean of enchantment, so well pleased with my voyage that I cared not how long it might be ere it reached its termination. And it was in this manner that I first took to the paths of knowledge." {11a}
In the spring of 1810 the regiment was ordered to Norman Cross, in Huntingdonshire, situated at the junction of the Peterborough and Great North Roads. At this spot the Government had caused to be erected in 1796 an extensive prison, covering forty acres of ground, in which to confine some of the prisoners made during the Napoleonic wars. There were sixteen large buildings roofed with red tiles. Each group of four was surrounded by a palisade, whilst another palisade "lofty and of prodigious strength" surrounded the whole. At the time when the West Norfolk Militia arrived there were some six thousand prisoners, who, with their guards, constituted a considerable-sized township. From time to time fresh batches of captives arrived amid a storm of cheers and cries of "Vive L'Empereur!" These were the only incidents in the day's monotony, save when some prisoner strove to evade the hospitality of King George, and was shot for his ingratitude.
Captain Borrow rejoined his regiment at Norman C Cross, leaving his family to follow a few days later. At the time the country round Peterborough was under water owing to the recent heavy rains, and at one portion of the journey the whole party had to embark in a species of punt, which was towed by horses "up to the knees in water, and, on coming to blind pools and 'greedy depths,' were not unfrequently swimming." {11b} But they were all old campaigners and accepted such adventures as incidents of a soldier's life.
At Norman Cross George made the acquaintance of an old snake-catcher and herbalist, a circumstance which, insignificant in itself, was to exercise a considerable influence over his whole life. Frequently this curious pair were to be seen tramping the countryside together; a tall, quaint figure with fur cap and gaiters carrying a leathern bag of wriggling venom, and an eager child with eyes that now burned with interest and intelligence--and the talk of the two was the lore of the viper. When the snake-catcher passed out of the life of his young disciple, he left behind him as a present a tame and fangless viper, which
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