On the 5th of February, 1886, a very extraordinary thing happened—it was a telegram addressed "Sir Richard Burton." He tossed it over to me and said, "Some fellow is playing me a practical joke, or else it is not for me. I shall not open it, so you may as well ring the bell and give it back again." "Oh no!" I said; "I shall open it if you don't." So it was opened. It was from Lord Salisbury, conveying in the kindest terms that the Queen, at his recommendation, had made him K.C.M.G. in reward for his services. He looked very serious and quite uncomfortable, and said, "Oh! I shall not accept it." I said, "You had better accept it, Jemmy, because it is a certain sign that they are going to give you the place" (Tangier, Marocco).
On the 28th of January, having been co-founder and President of the Anthropological Institute, he was now made Vice-president, in consequence of being always absent abroad.
This is the account he gives of Tangier in his journal:—
"It is by no means a satisfactory place for an Englishman. The harbour town was in the same condition as Suez was during the first quarter of the nineteenth century; and it was ruled by seven diplomatic kinglets, whose main, if not sole, work or duty was for each and every one to frustrate any scheme of improvement, or proposal made by any colleague or rival ruler. The capabilities of the place were enormous, the country around was a luxuriant waste awaiting cultivation, and all manner of metals, noble and ignoble, abounded in the adjacent mountains—the maritime Atlas. The first necessity was a railroad connecting the seaboard with Fez, the capital; but even a telegraph wire to Gibraltar, although a concession was known to have been issued, had not been laid, apparently because the rate of progress would have been too rapid. The French were intriguing for a prolongation of the Algerine railways; the Spanish sought possession of one or two more ports, as a basis of operations. The Italians kept their keen eyes ever open for every chance. Even Portugal remembered his Camoens, and his predictions about this part of the world. The Germans were setting all by the ears, and we English confined ourselves to making the place a market for supplying Tommy Atkins with beef. The climate in winter is atrocious for one seeking dry desert air. More than once it has rained three days without intermission; once it has snowed. Tangier is but the root of a land-tongue projecting north between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, hence both east wind and west wind are equally disagreeable. It is a Sommer-Frisch for Gibraltar; briefly, it is a Desert within cannon-shot of Civilization."
We crossed over to Marocco in the Jebel Tarik, and a very curious journey it was. It was a flat-bottomed cattle tug, only fit for a river. The sea was exceedingly heavy. The machinery stopped, they said, for want of oil; seas washed right over, and she rolled right round in the water, so that it was a passage of five hours instead of two. It actually snowed—a thing that the natives had never seen within the memory of man, and quite alarmed them. The Sharífah called on me; she was the Englishwoman who married the Sheríf some years ago.
We made delightful excursions both in Marocco and about Gibraltar. We saw a great deal of Sir John and Lady Drummond-Hay, who was a very sweet woman, and their charming daughter, Miss Alice Drummond-Hay. We thought the Embassy a miserable little house, after the Palazzone at Trieste. The streets were muddy and dirty, all uphill, all horribly stony, like Khaifa. I thought the people in Tangier itself, looked poor, miserable, dirty, diseased, and trodden down, and you must go out very far to find anything like a fine race. After Damascus, and all the other Eastern places I had seen, I thought it horrid, and was sorely disappointed—I had heard it so raved about; but I would willingly have lived there, and put out all my best capabilities, if my husband could have got the place that he wanted, and for which I had employed every bit of interest we had on his side or mine to obtain, but in vain. I sometimes now think that it was better so, and that he would not have lived so long, had he had it, for he was decidedly breaking up. The climate did not appear to be the one that suited him, and the anxiety and responsibilities of the post might have hurried on the catastrophe that happened in the following year, 1887. It was for the honour of the thing, and we saw for ourselves how uneasy a crown it would be.
He remarks in his journal—
"My wife and I left the foul harbour-town, the 'Home of Dulness,' and passed a pleasant week at the 'Rock,' enjoying the hospitable society of our fellow-countrymen. I failed in certain pour-parlers concerning the treasure-ship sunk in Vigo Bay. The officer who claimed to know the true position was unduly cautious, and the right was his, more than mine. I endeavoured, but again in vain, to excite some local interest in the ruins of Karteia, the Biblical Tarshish, famed for ships. A local antiquary had made a charming collection of statuettes, and other works of Greek art, by scraping the tumuli which line the two banks of the Guadarrangua, alias First River, and which now represent the magnificent docks described by Strabo. He could not but remark the utter inadequacy of the defences, so famed throughout the civilized world. Fifty years ago they might have been sufficient, but now they have fallen long behind the age, and could not defend themselves against a single ironclad. The fact is now generally recognized.
"We embarked in ugly weather on board the Cunarder s.s. Saragossa; she was a staunch old craft, but heavily top-laden with timber and iron works for a dock at Puzzuoli: the beams lashed and clamped to the bulwarks, and the metal loosely stowed away below. A rapidly falling barometer, a wind changing to every quarter, and a fearfully stormy sky, warned us that a full gale was raging in the Gulf of Lyons; it should be called the 'Lion's Gulf.' The sailors explain this in their own way. As in the Suez sea-jinns have been jailed, so here evil spirits have been laid by the priests, who, however, cannot boast of success in preventing their doing terrible damage. Huge seas washed over the deck, the galley was swamped, and there was a whisper that the boats were being prepared. However, in thirty hours the squall blew itself out, and the Saragossa, with a nasty cant to starboard, steamed into the fine new port of Genoa, self-styled the Serpent. After two days' rest, the cargo being reorganized, the good ship resumed her way, and passing by Ischia, where the ruins of the earthquake were dreadful to look upon, landed us at Naples.
"The old saying, 'Vedi Napoli e poi morir,' has now assumed a new and fatal significance; bad drainage has bred typhus fever, which has made the Grand Hotels along the shore the homes of death. We had time to pay a visit to Pompeii, which since my time is utterly cockneyfied. In olden days you engaged a carriage and a guide, and passed in and out of the ruins just as you pleased. Now there are barriers and tolls, and taxes, licenced ciceroni, and Cockney inn crowded with ruffianly drivers. Inside the enceinte, prudishness reigned supreme, and wooden doors are closed in the face of all feminines, before certain frescoes. My wife found an object in a church in which she had for many years interested herself, Our Lady of the Rosary of Pompeii, a rich basilica erected on the site of a pagan temple.
"At Naples, my wife, having had a bad fall through the washing away of the ladder between the upper and lower decks, had hurt herself terribly. She was already not well enough to risk any shaking, when, to my horror, I saw something which I took to be a large feather pillow roll lightly into the timbers below. I saw several people rush to pick it up, and, to my horror, found it was my wife. She seemed stunned for a minute, and then she was so frightened that I should be uneasy, that she just shook herself and said she was all right; but at Naples it was evident that she had damaged herself, so that when our time was up I made her continue her journey by land, whilst I, who thoroughly enjoyed the sea, rejoined the ship."
Whilst we were there, the Italian Minister came in in proper style in an Italian frigate, with eighteen guns salute from the ship, and the fortress answering. We received a great deal of hospitality in Tangier, which we enjoyed very much. The Grappler, Captain Cochrane, came over, and Colonel (now General) Buckle, commanding the Royal Artillery at Gibraltar. All good things come to an end, and the day came round to recross to Gib., but this time in a Trans-atlantique, and Captain Baker again kindly sent a Government launch to meet us, as it was very rough. We immediately called on Sir John and Lady Adye, Lord and Lady Gifford, and Colonel Buckle. We made acquaintance with a quantity of nice people, found Sir Allen Young there, and enjoyed a very charming week. On departure, Captain Baker kindly took us in his launch to our ship, the Cunard (for Mediterranean) Saragossa, Captain Tutt.
We did not like the cabin, nor the ship, nor the food; it was regularly roughing it for invalids. There was no doctor, a disobliging stewardess, no baths, very little water to wash with, one towel. No resort for bad weather; you had either to lie in your berth, or sit bolt upright in the saloon. No room to walk because of the cargo, as we were laden with iron and wood for a pier at Puzzuoli, near Naples; and besides the hold being full, the deck was also full, and it was even lashed to the sides. There was no ventilation below, because it was bad weather.
We had a first-rate captain and nice officers, and they and the boy-stewards did all they could to make us comfortable. As our cabin was over the screw, three gentlemen good-naturedly changed with us. Now, there was a new moon and an eclipse, and bad weather sprung up in the night. There was a tremendous nor'-wester in the Gulf of Lyons; the galley was swamped, heavy seas swept over us every minute, the iron cargo got loose in the hold and was rolling about, and we had an ugly slant to starboard—in fact, one's cabin was all uphill.
Richard was knocked down twice, and had a very heavy fall on head and forehead and shins. The coal-bunks caught fire, we shipped seas into the saloon, and it seemed at one time as if the boat on the port side would come into the saloon skylight. I shall never forget his kindness and tenderness to me in that gale.
If the cargo of timber lashed to the sides had behaved ill, it would have torn away the bulwarks, and bumped a hole in the ship. The captain was thirty hours on the bridge, and I never saw a man look so used-up as he did next day; and how relieved he was—and we all were—when we came into Genoa, looking in an awful plight! We knew that they would stay there a bit, and we bolted at once for the hotel. One never forgets the good bath and bed and the clean food that greets one on these occasions. Sailors always say that some priest, in exorcising a devil, has laid him in the Gulf of Lyons, and from that time forth I have believed it.
We had a delightful forty-eight hours at Genoa, excepting that I went to call on a very dear old friend, and found that she had died, and that I had never heard of it; and, to my great surprise, who should I see mooning about but Miss Alice Bird (Dr. Bird's sister, of 49, Welbeck Street, our great friends), and I carried her off at once to the hotel, and thence to the ship to see us depart, as we had to continue our journey. It was blowing very hard when we arrived at Leghorn. Richard had caught cold, so we did not go ashore, but amused ourselves with buying the pretty alabaster rubbish that peddlers bring on board. Half of the companion ladder between the upper and lower deck had been washed away, and I, being unaware of it, got a heavy fall amongst the timber and hurt myself.
It was fearfully cold, blowing off bleak snow mountains. We were delighted with Vesuvius, throwing up flames, and streams of red lava pouring down her sides. We went at once to a hotel, and went over to Pompeii, which we enjoyed immensely. We found Lady Otway there, made acquaintance with all the Society, and saw everything in and about Naples. My fall had hurt me so much that Richard would not let me go on in the ship from Naples to Trieste.
He writes: "It was rather fun in Genoa. Because I wore my fez, everybody took me for part of the Carnival, and followed me."
Before we left, it being the King's birthday, there was a march past our hotel of all the soldiers and sailors. The sailors were good, but the rest sadly defective and slipshod. We went to Puzzuoli, from where the steamer sailed. The ship went to Palermo, Messina, Catania, came along the Dalmatian coast, and, after a very peaceful journey of a week, reached Trieste. I went by rail to Rome, and I do not wish for a worse train than that between Naples and Rome, nor more disagreeable railway officials than those I found at Naples.
As I arrived late, and did not count my change, I lost eighteen francs, and three of my boxes were kept back from Jack-in-office reasons. At Rome I waited in the station for three hours to get another train, and was delighted to get into an Austrian train with a good bed and a civil conductor. I arrived in Florence next morning, where I did some more mediæval Italy that day and part of the next, and in the evening got on to Bologna for the same object. I then arrived at Trieste, on the 20th of March, with a very unpleasant journey, and, as there was a cholera scare, met with a great deal of visiting of baggage and fumigation. I arrived at ten in the evening, and was accustomed to be met by a crowd of friends, and was surprised at finding that there was no one to meet me; but when I got into our house, three telegrams were handed to me that had not reached me. The first was, "Father very ill—can you come?" the second was, "Father died to-day;" the third, "Father buried to-day at Mortlake" (yesterday). I then understood that everybody knew it, and had kindly desisted on account of what would have been my grief had I known. It was a severe blow, and I felt it very much, for I had not expected it. I was thus in Trieste three days before Richard, and was able to go on board and receive him.
On the 25th, the English, headed by Mr. P. P. Cautley and Mr. Salvari, our first and second Vice-Consuls, presented us with a beautiful cup for our silver wedding.
Richard notes in his journal (as we at once paid a visit to Duino Opçina), "Andrino" (my little god-child, whom I saved in former years as a babe) "is dead, the setter Fazan is given away, Brownie the donkey is sold. I shall not now care so much to go to Opçina; all my amusements are taken away."
On the 10th of April he began his "Terminal Essay," and vol. viii. was sent home. We went to a very nice Assault of Arms; that was a thing we never neglected.
He writes—
"In May, my wife and I had a pleasant change, being invited by our colleague, Mr. Faber, H.B.M.'s Consul for Fiume, to visit his castle Schloss Sternstein, near Cilli, in Steiermark. We found a modern building, which had superseded the ancient feudal château, whence the old legend of a Styrian Romeo and Juliet has not wholly faded. We enjoyed the society of Mr. and Mrs. Faber, who are hospitality itself, and amused ourselves with their numerous and beautiful children; and last, but not least, the simple German life and perfect rest and liberty were exceedingly refreshing. My wife and I went to look at an old mill, with cottage attached, to see if we could make that our future cottage."
We stopped at Cilli on the way back, and thence to Trieste. We had constantly at home many people who came in to lunch and dinner, as it was our one time off work, and people knew it was our great pleasure and chose that hour for coming to see us. The family from Duino, the Princesses Hohenlöhe, and the Princess Taxis, whenever they came into town to do commissions, used to take their breakfast with us en route. A great part of the summer we used to sit under one particular shady lime tree, whose branches almost form a tent, and there were benches and tables arranged under it. We used to call it "our tree." Frequently, when we were in all the bustle of London, perhaps driving in the City to publishers, he would say, "Our tree is out beautifully now. Are you regretting it?" I would answer him, "No; my tree is wherever you are." And he would add, "That is awfully sweet of you." We were not always paying each other compliments. He used to pay them to some women, but I hardly ever got any, so that I treasured up the few; but what he did say, meant a great deal. When he used to go out to convivial parties of men, where the generality of ladies were not asked, and he would come back late in the small hours, he would tell me all about it, and then he would say, "But what a horrible desert it would be, if I had not got you to come back to!"
He here notices the death of Mr. White-Cooper, F.R.G.S., the eminent oculist, with whom and his wife (Lady Cooper) we were on the most friendly terms. He was now working at the ninth volume of the "Nights."
A man's politics and a man's religion are supposed to be two very prominent features in his character. I therefore give you a résumé of Richard's politics in the Appendices (E). Now, being in an official position, he never was able to express his opinions very freely, and what I give you, though they were actually written by me, and published by me in various books and pamphlets, were what I learnt from my husband, as I learnt everything that I know from him. To him I owe all the education that I have received. I consider that he made me, so to speak, and whatever little publicity or fame have been accorded to me by those who know me, I owe it entirely to him. In one part of his politics you will see that he strongly advocated an alliance with China; and I am sure that Mr. G. H—— will have no objection to my publishing the letters he wrote me in 1886, praising me for what I wrote, that I may give the honour where it is due, to Richard. Richard has been consulted over and over again by different Governments; he has given his knowledge and suggestions freely, and they have often been carried out, but have never in one single instance been publicly acknowledged in any way, and scarcely thanked for privately.
"December 6th, 1886.
"Dear Lady Burton,
"Of course you will recollect sending me a presentation copy of your work, 'Arabia, Egypt, and India,' with
'To G. H.,
a grateful souvenir
from Isabel Burton,'
written on the title-page.... Well, I want you to send me another, as the other is out of my possession. Thus—
"In reading it I had been much struck with the chapter, 'A Peep into the Future of North-Western India,' and especially with the last forty-seven lines, as containing a proper solution of our difficulties with Russia.
"I took the liberty of marking pages 394 and 395, and sending the book to Lord Salisbury twelve to fifteen months ago, during his short administration before the present one, and I asked him, if what Mrs. Burton said was true, whether an arrangement with China would not free us in the future from all the bother with Russia—and, if he thought so, would he not do it at once? I received an answer. Now, in three or four weeks after I sent it, I saw in the papers that we had entered into an alliance, offensive and defensive, with China, in case of a war with Russia, and since then the collapse of Russia's pretensions, and our own power in future, to remain in the van of civilization as we list, without fear, are matters of history.
"It is surprising how plainly people see things when they are once pointed out. I believe you pointed it out at the right moment, and that I was a small instrument in the matter of getting it accomplished. And who shall say that a greater stroke of policy was ever accomplished? Its consequences are far-reaching indeed.
"My brother-in-law, Major —— of the —— Regiment, whose regiment is stationed in India, although he is home on furlough, considers it a masterpiece of strategy, looking at the position we were in. However, let that pass; it is not the only good you have done, and I'll be bound to say are doing, in the world now.
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H——.
"P.S.—How are the donkeys, horses, and the other animals you took under your protection in Trieste getting on? I often wonder. If you have time, please read pages 394 and 395 of your book, commencing, 'But our highest prospect,' etc."
"14th December, 1886.
"My dear Lady Burton,
"I am much pleased by receiving your note and hearing from you once again.
"I enclose a copy of the two pages to which I called Lord Salisbury's attention, and you will say yourself, looking at the words in the light of subsequent events—to say nothing of the present position—it is hard to say what influence these words have had on the present and future of the whole world.
"England's arm was paralyzed, and has been for some time, by the nightmare and bugbear of Russia. Bismarck, to clear himself and his own country, had been pointing Russia to India; but when this occurred, and it became clear that at last we had secured ourselves in India by this Chinese alliance, Russian bother at Afghanistan's frontier ceased. Germany hastened to offer thirty-five millions loan to China. France stopped her war and sent a deputation after the German with proposals for trade, and Russia at Merv, and France at Tonquin, were both paralyzed and powerless for harm. Burmah was taken and our future secured, and, what is more, England was again free to declare, as Lord Salisbury did at the last Mansion House banquet, that if any of England's interests are imperilled, her own right arm is quite powerful enough to right them at once, without assistance from any European Power.
"Without this arrangement with China dared he to have said so? No! However, whatever the facts are, one thing is certain, that what has happened is for the best.
"I hope you will get the pension.[2] If you think I could do anything towards it I will gladly try, so long as I am not doing any harm by interfering. I ought to say I sent the book to Mr. Gladstone two months before I sent it to Lord Salisbury, when Gladstone was in. He returned it. I suppose the reference to Gordon was too much for him. Of course he may have initiated what Lord Salisbury carried out with China.
"With kind regards, believe me
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H——."
"31st January, 1887.
"My dear Lady Burton,
"I enclose you a little scrap from to-day's paper about Germany and China. The jealousy shown all round by the different Powers since our agreement with the latter one, is clear proof what a great thing they think it is for us. One thing is certain, that those two pages of yours have done more to 'make history,' as it is called, than many wars could do, and without blood-shedding. The more I think of it, and the more I view the convulsion which must come very soon from all these armed men, the more I am satisfied that it is a grand thing for Lord Salisbury that, having India secure, he can now do as he feels he can best secure the future in accordance with the spirit of our old traditions.
"With kindest regards, believe me
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H——.
"P.S.—I conclude you received the Asiatic Review article in Paris by the Marquis Tseng. I sent it there to you."
"June 28th, 1887.
"My dear Lady Burton,
"I have not heard one word from you or any one else since the earthquake, and have often wondered what had become of you, and how you fared.
"What a time you had! much worse than any one would think who had not himself known and seen in others what a serious matter nervous suffering is.
"As to the Government, they might have given Sir Richard the pension. However, if it's not done when you return, I would stick to them for it. They can well afford it, for they are having a grand innings through this China business. Even the French papers say how cleverly Lord Salisbury has managed by playing off China against Russia.
"I am satisfied that will be the chief road in future to India, Japan, and China, re Liverpool to Halifax, Canadian Pacific to Vancouver, and steam over the Pacific.
"It will beat the Suez Canal; but Lord Salisbury has got quit of the Russian periodical scares, which was the great thing, and all through you.
"Give my kindest regards to your husband, and believe me always,
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H——."
The paragraph in my book above alluded to, was as follows:—
"But our highest prospect of happy deliverance from this terrible northern rival (Russia) is still to be noticed; and that so little attention has been paid to it by our writers, is not a little astonishing to the student. In Russia it must have caused a vast amount of anxious thought; and it readily explains the cautious system of her approaches, parallels, and encroachments in the East; her provisional system of indirect until ready for direct rule over her new conquests; her strategic lines of observation and demonstration; and her carefully disposed apparatus of supports, reserves, and bases of operations. Nolens volens, will-we nill-we, Russia must eventually absorb Kashgar; she must meet China face to face, and then her serious troubles begin.
"The dash of Tartar blood in Russian veins establishes a remote cousinhood with China. There is something of physical, and more of moral, likeness between the two peoples. Both are equally sturdy, hardy, frugal, energetic, persistent, aggressive, and brave in facing death. Both have a national speech, a peculiar alphabet, and, to go no further, a religion which distinguishes them from the rest of the world. Both are animated by the sturdy vigour of a newly awakened civilization. During the war of 1842 we facetiously said that it was rank murder to attack the Chinese troops with any missiles but oranges. Presently the Ever-Victorious Army led by Gordon, one of England's noblest and best neglected sons, showed the might that was slumbering in a nation of three hundred millions.
"And now China is preparing herself, with that slow but terrible steadfastness of purpose which distinguishes her, to exercise her influence upon the civilized world,—upon the other three-fourths which compose the sum of humanity. After a hundred checks and defeats she has utterly annihilated the intrusive Mohammedan schism which attempted to establish its independence in Yunnan. She will do the same in Kashgar, although the dilatoriness of her proceedings, unintelligible to the Western mind, tends to create a false feeling of security. She is building a fleet and rolling her own plates. Her army is being drilled by Europeans; the men are armed with Remingtons, and she has six manufactories for breech-loading rifles. Securely cautious of her coming strength, she declines all little wars with England and France, till another dozen years or so shall enable her to meet her enemies on terms which, forecasted in 1842, would have appeared the very madness of prophecy.
"Such is the nation which is fated to contend with Russia for the glorious empire of Central Asia. This is the power which our Press and its teachers have agreed to ignore. In the coming struggle we shall see the direct result of the Crimean War, and then, perhaps, we may reap the reward of sacrifices and losses which hitherto have added little to our honour or to our power."
He writes—
"On the 5th of June we left again for England, as I was obliged to consult a particular manuscript, which would supply two volumes of my supplemental 'Arabian Nights.' The route lay through Krain or Carniola, with its queer little capital Laibach."
We made a ten days' delightful journey to England. At Krainberg began the beautiful scenery, hills and dales, grey stone, sheets of snow, pines, wheat-fields and cattle below, clouds and rain above, with a burst of sunlight through, the river rushing by us, the peaks of the Triglav in the clouds, the railway three thousand feet high. We were both delighted and glad we came. Loads of Sunday people in costume filled the stations till we got on to Villach. There is nothing like the Austrian Tyrol for lovely scenery, which begins at Krainberg, becomes perfect at Tarvis, and declines at Lienz. The Drau is a nice river before it marries the Danube; it is brisk and full of life.
At Villach the scenery and the gorges of the Drau were dressed in rainbow suit, mist and sunshine together. Lienz was very charming; we took a very great fancy to it, and from hence went on to Toblach, which opens into the magnificent gorge of the Cortina d'Ampezzo, which leads to the Dolomites. This time we were not so stupid as to go to the big Hôtel Toblach, because we were ill-treated last time; so we came to the Gasthof Ampezzo, rough but comfortable, with good native cooking, and a beautiful view up the valley of Ampezzo, where we had Forellen (the mountain trout), good black cock, and excellent wine (Offner). Then we went on to Innsbrück. We had one of those Aussichtswagen at the end of the train, all of glass, so that you can see the view, which was delightful, crossing the Brenner. The Brenner was full of snow amphitheatres, deep gorges, firs in spring suits, and tower-shaped rocks. The heat was very great; there are seventeen tunnels on this crossing, some as long as four or five minutes. Dull old Innsbrück was reached at last, where one feels as if the clouds were resting on the top of one's head.
Innsbrück has a good hotel (Europa), but ridiculously dear. Here we found some old Trieste friends, Baron and Baroness von Puthon, née Comtesse de Bombelles; so we decided to pass a whole day at Innsbrück, and to go on to Bâle the following day. Here in the Cathedral are the bronze antique statues of the Imperialties of Austria from earliest times, which I have before mentioned. We left the next day, and went through the Arlberg tunnel, running through a most picturesque country. The carriages are high and good, the ventilation excellent. Landeck is the last station before entering the tunnel—it occupies eighteen minutes by the express—and Arlberg is the station at which you come out. The tunnel is lighted by a lamp at every mile. In going through the Arlberg Richard remarked that the ground was rotten, and later on this was more than confirmed. Feldkirch is the last Austrian, and Bocks is the first Swiss station. The road is pretty, but not equal to the other passes. The train then runs all along the lakes until Zurich, after which the country is very common till Bâle. The Euler is an old-fashioned but good hotel close to the Bâle station. We now went in for a nineteen hours' journey by express from Bâle to Boulogne and Folkestone—baggage is visited on the frontier at Delle. The train had wagon-lits, but it shook and lurched as if the carriages were very badly coupled. We stayed at Folkestone, as usual, to see Richard's sister and niece, and found the local Exhibition going on.
In London we simply resumed our work of a few months before. Richard attended the levée on the 25th. He notices some pleasant dinners that were given to us by Mr. Christie, and the poet Mr. St. Clair Baddeley at Albert Mansions, at Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft's, where we met the Oscar Wyldes, and lots of other pleasant people.
My so-called edition of the "Arabian Nights" was now being brought out. It was a very melancholy time for me, my father being dead, and we were, as is usual, dividing the property, packing up, and breaking up the old home, which had been our refuge on all the holidays of our married life.
He wrote—
"Arrived in London, we had to realize the blow that had befallen us. The good old father, Henry Raymond Arundell, had quietly passed away, little short of eighty-seven, and we met to dine and drink a silent toast to his memory on his eighty-seventh birthday; the home, which had been the family point de réunion since 1861, was now to be given up. This house was the link that held the family together, and once separated, people hardly ever reunite upon the same terms. All will understand how painful are such final breakings-up. On returning home, nothing so saddens the heart of the exile as the many empty chairs round the table. After a few visits to country houses, we found ourselves compelled to make sundry trips to Oxford. I had already memorialized the vice-chancellor and the curators of the Bodleian Library for the loan of the Wortley Montagu manuscripts of the 'Arabian Nights.' Not a private loan, but a temporary transference to the India Office under the charge of that excellent librarian, Dr. R. Rost. This led to the usual long delays, and finally, on November 1st, came a distinct refusal, which was the more offensive because a loan had been lately made to another applicant, an Anglo-Indian coloured subject. The visits were essentially unpleasant. The Bodleian is the model of what a reading library should not be, and the contrast of its treasures with their mean and miserable surroundings is a scandal. In autumn the University must be closed at three p.m., lights not being allowed; the student must transfer himself to its Succursale, the Ratcliffe, which as a salle de lecture is even worse. The 'Rotunda' is damp in the wet season, stuffy during the summer heats, and the cave of Eolus in windy weather. Few students except the youngest and strongest can endure its changeable nerve-depressing atmosphere. Nor did Oxford show well in point of climate; the air is malarious, and the resolute neglect of sanitation is a serious obstacle to students at this so-called Seat of Learning. Moreover, the ancient University had now become a mere collection of finishing schools, or rather a huge board for the examination of big boys and girls.
"The old Alma Mater had always been to me a durissima noverca. Although the late Mr. Chandler, of Pembroke College, had stoutly opposed all lending of Bodleian books and manuscripts, he thoroughly sympathized with me, and he said to my wife, 'Who could have foreseen, when opposing all loans and laying down laws to limit the facilities of students, that directly afterwards Richard Burton would turn up and want an Arabic manuscript, a manuscript, moreover, which no man in the University can read, although it boasts of two Arabic professors?'
"It was in vain to seek for a copyist at Oxford, and those who offered themselves in London I found by no means satisfactory. At last my wife hit upon the bright idea of photographing the pages required, and imparted her idea to Mr. Chandler, and Chandler thought it was a most valuable hint to the University. He not only carried it out, but he insisted on bearing all the expenses himself, despite my earnest wish to do so. The University should be grateful for this solution of the question. Books are now no longer lent, but photographs can always be obtained."
On the 1st of July we went to a party at Mr. and Mrs. Oscar Wylde's, and there Richard met a man with whom he used to play chess thirty-five years ago. Richard arrived at playing three games blindfold; but after he left the Army he gave it up, because he wanted his brain for other things. I have already said that Richard, after his recall from Damascus, never tried but for four things. He wanted to be made a K.C.B. in 1875, and I exerted myself very much, in writing to all the Ministers and getting it backed up by all our big friends (some fifty), and again in 1878; but it was refused. He wanted to be Commissioner for the Slave Trade in 1880. He then asked for Marocco in 1885, which we considered was as good as promised; and on the 2nd of July, 1886, we had the mortification of finding that Lord Rosebery had given it away to Mr. (afterwards Sir) William Kirby-Green. Richard said on hearing it, in his usual generous way, "Next to getting it one's self, the best thing is to know that a friend and a good man has got it;" but when he came home and told me, he said, "There is no rise for me now, and I don't want anything; but I have worked forty-four years for nothing. I am breaking up, and I want to go free." So this year (1886) we occupied ourselves in entreating the Ministry to allow him to retire on his pension four years before his time. It was backed up by the usual forty-seven or fifty big names, and it was not pretence in any of the three cases; they did write, but it was refused. One Minister, in friendly chaff, wrote and said, "We don't want to annex Marocco, and we know that you two would be Emperor and Empress in about six months."
The Last Appeal.
"23, Dorset Street, Portman Square, London, W.,
"October, 1886.
"I have represented to Lord Salisbury and to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, Lord Iddesleigh, that after passing fourteen years and a half in an unwholesome post, I find that the climate of Trieste, as a constant residence, undermines my health, and incapacitates me from work; also that I have not had the promotion which would encourage me to hope, nor do I see a prospect of any post which I could accept with profit to the public and pleasure to myself. I have therefore come to the determination, after forty-four years and a half in the public service (nineteen years in the Indian Army, and in the Consular Service twenty-five years and a half, which counts as thirty years, on account of eight to nine years in officially dangerous climates), to request that I may retire, at the age of sixty-five, on full pension, but to retain my post until such arrangement be made. I represented that if there were a difficulty from the Treasury, to make up full Consular pension, perhaps their lordships might recommend my services to the Civil List, on the ground of literary and linguistic labours and services. I do not wish to be so tedious as to quote all my services, but I venture to note a few of the facts which would seem to suggest my claims to some unusual consideration on the part of her Majesty's Government, and which I venture to say will obtain the approval of the public at large. I am about to ask you whether you will give me the great benefit of your support and good word on this occasion with Lord Salisbury, and my Chief, Lord Iddesleigh, who will have the decision of my case.
"I am,
"Richard F Burton."
Here is the modest list, which does not contain half of what he did during his life of seventy years—
"Services.
"(1) Served nineteen years in the Bombay Army, nearly ten years on active service, chiefly on the staff of Sir Charles Napier, on the Sind Survey, at the close of the Afghan War, 1842-49. In 1861 was compelled to leave, without pay or pension, by Sir Charles Wood, for accepting the Consulship of Fernando Po.
"(2) Served in the Crimea as Chief of the Staff of Bashi-Bazouk (Irregular Cavalry), and was chiefly instrumental in organizing it.
"(3) Was the author of the Bayonet exercise now used at the Horseguards.
"(4) Have made several difficult and dangerous expeditions or explorations in unknown parts; notably, the pilgrimage to Mecca and Medinah, and afterwards to Harar, now opened up to Europeans, and the discovery and opening up of the Lake Regions of Central Africa, and the sources of the Nile, a country now well known to trade, to missionaries, and schoolmasters.
"(5) Have been twenty-five years and a half in the Consular Service, eight to nine years in official bad climates.
"(6) Was sent in 1864, as H.M.'s Commissioner, to the King of Dahomé, and resided with him for three months.
"(7) Was recalled at a moment's notice from Damascus, under a misrepresentation, and suffered heavy pecuniary losses thereby. My conduct was at last formally approved by the Government, but no compensation was given.
"(8) Was sent in 1882 in quest of the unfortunate Professor Palmer and his companions, who were murdered by the Bedawi.
"(9) Have learnt twenty-nine languages, passed official examinations in eight Eastern languages, notably Arabic, Persian, and Hindostani.
"(10) Have published over forty-six works, several of which, like 'Mecca,' and the 'Exploration of Harar,' are now standard."
"23, Dorset Street, Portman Square, London, W.,
"October, 1886.
"I have now written to Lord Salisbury, that since the Treasury declines to concede to me full pay before full time of service, and that the £300 a year to which I think I am entitled by regulation, were I to resign the service, is hardly an equivalent of forty-five years' hard work in anything but wholesome climates, to beg of him to favour me by placing my name upon the Civil List for a pension of £300 a year.
"There are precedents for such a privilege, but I would not quote names unless called upon to do so. I have told his Lordship that I have had several kind letters from all quarters, expressing their conviction of the reasonable nature of my request, and professing themselves willing to strengthen his hands by their support, in the hopes that such a favour may be conceded, the general idea being that mine is an exceptional case. I have ventured to assure his Lordship that I have every reason to hope that (this being no political question) the Press on both sides will be in favour of this act of grace, should it meet with his approval.
"I suggested that if there be any difficulty about my drawing Consular pension and Literary pension, that the Literary pension might be put in my wife's name, she being also an authoress and my coadjutor.
"I now beg to thank you for your kind expressions on my behalf, and to ask you whether you will crown them by writing to Lord Salisbury in such terms as will win this petition for me.
"I am,
"Richard F Burton."
What the World thought about it.
(Press cuttings from many papers.)
"Richard Burton, four years before his death, wrote to the Government that the climate of Trieste was killing him, and begged that he might, after forty-five years of public service (nineteen in the Indian Army, and twenty-six in the Consular Service, always in bad climates), be allowed, at the age of sixty-six, to retire on full pension. He said if there were any difficulty from the Treasury to make up full Consular pension, that perhaps his services might be recommended to the Civil List, so as to make up £600 a year; and that if that could not be granted, that the latter might be put in his wife's name, she being an authoress, and his coadjutor in all his services.
"He said he would not be so tedious as to quote all his services, but would venture to lay a few facts before their lordships which might earn some consideration. That this being no political question, he was sure the public and the press would endorse it heartily as an exceptional case.
"Over forty-seven of the greatest names in the kingdom supported this petition, as well as the press on both sides, but it was refused."
Pension.
Court and Society Review.
"The many friends of Sir Richard Burton are endeavouring to obtain for him permission to retire from the Consular Service with his pension a few years before the usual time, and, considering the services rendered by the veteran explorer to his country and to the world at large, and the ludicrous inadequacy of the rewards meted out to him, there is nothing very extravagant in such a request. How great his claims to generous treatment really are is a matter of which most people are probably but ill informed. Thus, within the last few weeks it has been stated in a score of newspapers that Sir Richard Burton was 'the author of the system of bayonet exercise in use in the British army.' Quite true. But how is it that no one has added the trifling fact that Sir Richard Burton's reward for that work was a severe official 'wigging,' and, when the necessity for a system of bayonet exercise could no longer be concealed, permission to draw upon the Treasury for the munificent sum of one shilling?
"In 1861, again, Sir Richard Burton was treated with egregious injustice. He had dared to hint in the days of John Company that the Court of Directors had been guilty of neglect of duties, and the truth of his view was proved by the fact that, had his counsel been followed, the massacre of Christians at Jeddah in 1851 would never have occurred. This was quite enough. He had been in the right, and his official superiors in the wrong. A black mark was, therefore, put against his name; and when the Indian Army passed, three years afterwards, from the Company to the Crown, the grudge was paid off. He being then on half-pay, had been appointed by Lord Russell Consul at Fernando Po. There are scores of instances of officers being allowed to take civil appointments whilst still upon the cadre of the Staff Corps in India. But the opportunity was too tempting. Burton had offended the 'big-wigs,' and, without the chance of appeal, his nineteen years of service were wiped out, and he was left without pay or pension. Even the Whigs of a quarter of a century ago recognized the injustice with which he had been treated, and so, after his famous expedition to Dahomé, he was appointed Consul at Damascus. There, unfortunately, he was found to be in the way. He would not sit by and watch threatened massacres or injustice to the Christian population, and so, at the request of Rashid Pasha, was removed by Lord Granville, who, as Lady Burton says, with some bitterness, 'is always complaisant and polite to foreigners.' A few months later Lord Granville found out his mistake, and made such reparation as he could by appointing Sir Richard Burton Consul at Trieste, where he has since remained, in the enjoyment of the colossal income of £600 a year, less official outgoings.
"It is surely not too much to ask that a man who has been thus treated—who has served his country for forty-four years, and always under the most arduous conditions—should be allowed to pass the evening of his days in retirement in the enjoyment of the very modest pittance to which his latter official services entitle him. He has sown, and others have reaped; and there can surely be no impropriety in allowing the very small boon which his friends ask for him. If he had associated himself with the South Kensington ring in 1851, he would have received his knighthood a dozen years ago, and there would have been no necessity for his friends to be troubling themselves now about his pension."
The Bat, December 7th.
"I do most sincerely trust that Sir Richard Burton's friends will be successful in obtaining for him an adequate retiring allowance from his post at Trieste. Wherever modern deeds of daring are known, there is the name of Burton held in honour; and even in these days of exploration and travel, I stand amazed opposite a shelf containing the record of Burton's travels. In literature and scholarship he is not less distinguished than in geography; and yet he has been left to languish, year after year, in a place like Trieste, which is precisely one of those places which would suit the intellect and capacity of the average Foreign Office hack. After forty-five years of most eminent public service Sir Richard wants to come home to live in peace, and the question is whether he is to have a proper pension to enable him to do so. He is within four years of completing the term which would entitle him to a retiring allowance, for he has been in the Consular Service only since 1861."
Cutting from Truth, October 7th, 1886.
"There is a rumour that Sir Richard Burton wants to retire and take his pension, but that after forty-five years' service (nineteen military and nearly twenty-six consular) the pension is so small that he is driven to choose between losing his health in the pestilential drainage of Trieste, or retiring on something less than the necessaries of life. He might receive a pension for soldierly services, one for consular and diplomatic, and one for literary and linguistic services. This is not a political question, and it is one of those exceptional cases in which the country would willingly see the rigour of departmental law suspended, and a fair pension granted."