Produced by JC Byers and Laura Shaffer
THE LIFE OF SIR RICHARD BURTON
By Thomas Wright
Author of "The Life of Edward Fitzgerald," etc.
2 Volumes in 1
This Work is
Dedicated to
Sir Richard Burton's Kinsman
And Friend,
Major St. George Richard Burton,
The Black Watch.
Preface.
Fifteen years have elapsed since the death of Sir Richard Burton and
twelve since the appearance of the biography of Lady Burton. A deeply
pathetic interest attaches itself to that book. Lady Burton was stricken
down with an incurable disease. Death with its icy breath hung over her
as her pen flew along the paper, and the questions constantly on her
lips were "Shall I live to complete my task? Shall I live to tell
the world how great and noble a man my husband was, and to refute the
calumnies that his enemies have so industriously circulated?" She
did complete it in a sense, for the work duly appeared; but no one
recognised more clearly than herself its numerous shortcomings. Indeed,
it is little better than a huge scrap-book filled with newspaper
cuttings and citations from Sir Richard's and other books, hurriedly
selected and even more hurriedly pieced together. It gives the
impressions of Lady Burton alone, for those of Sir Richard's friends are
ignored--so we see Burton from only one point of view. Amazing to say,
it does not contain a single original anecdote [1]--though perhaps,
more amusing anecdotes could be told of Burton than of any other modern
Englishman. It will be my duty to rectify Lady Burton's mistakes and
mis-statements and to fill up the vast hiatuses that she has left.
Although it will be necessary to subject her to criticism, I shall
endeavour at the same time to keep constantly in mind the queenliness
and beauty of her character, her almost unexampled devotion to her
husband, and her anxiety that everyone should think well of him. Her
faults were all of the head. Of the heart she had absolutely none.
As the Richard Burton whom I have to pourtray differs considerably
from Lady Burton's "Earthly God," [2] I have been very careful to give
chapter and verse for all my statements. The work has been written on
the same lines as my Life of Edward FitzGerald; that is to say, without
any aim except to arrive at the precise truth. But although I have
regarded it as no concern of mine whether any particular fact tells for
or against Sir Richard Burton, I do think that when the reader rises
from the last page he will feel that he has been in the company not only
of one of the greatest, noblest and most fearless of Englishmen, but
also of one who, without making much profession of doing so, really
loved his fellow-men, and who, despite his inability to put himself in
line with religionists, fought steadily on the side of righteousness. We
are aware that there are in his books a few observations which call for
vehement and unqualified denunciation; but against them must be
placed the fundamental goodness of the man, to which all who knew him
intimately have testified. In not a few respects Sir Richard Burton's
character resembled Edward FitzGerald's. Burton, indeed, hailed the
adapter of Omar Khayyam as a "fellow Sufi."
Lady Burton, too, comes extremely well out of the fire of criticism.
The reader may object to her religious views, he may smile at her
weaknesses, he may lament her indiscretions, but he will recognise that
at bottom she was a God-fearing, noble-minded woman; and he will, we
think, find himself really in love with her almost before knowing it.
The amount of absolutely new information in this work is very large.
Thus we are telling for the first time the history of Burton's
friendships with Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot, Mr. John Payne, and others; and we
are giving for the first time, too, a complete and accurate history of
the translation of The Arabian Nights, The Scented Garden, and other
works. Hundreds of new facts are recorded respecting these and other
absorbing topics, while the citations from the unpublished letters of
Burton and Lady Burton will, we are sure, receive a welcome. We are
able to give about fifty entirely new anecdotes--many of them extremely
piquant and amusing. We also tell the touching story of Burton's brother
Edward. In our accounts of Burton's travels will be found a number of
interesting facts and some anecdotes not given in Burton's works.
The new material has been derived from many sources--but from ten in
particular.
(1) From two hundred unpublished letters of Sir Richard Burton
and Lady Burton.
(2) From interviews with Mrs. E. J. Burton [3] and
Mr. F. Burton (Burton's cousins), Mr. John Payne, Mrs. Arbuthnot,
Mr. Watts-Dunton, Mr. W. F. Kirby, Mr. A. G. Ellis, Dr. Codrington,
Professor James F. Blumhardt, Mr. Henry R. Tedder (librarian and
secretary of The Athenaeum, Burton's club), Mrs. Baddeley (mother of
Burton's friend, St. Clair Baddeley), Madame Nicastro (sister of the
late Mr. Albert Letchford, illustrator of The Arabian Nights), Dr.
Grenfell Baker (Burton's medical attendant during the last three years
of his life), and many other ladies and gentlemen.
(3) From letters received from Major St. George Burton (to whom
I have the pleasure of dedicating this work), Lady Bancroft, Mr. D.
MacRitchie, Mr. E. S. Mostyn Pryce (representative of Miss Stisted),
Gunley Hall, Staffordshire, M. Charles Carrington, of Paris, who sent me
various notes, including an account of Burton's unfinished translation
of Apuleius's Golden Ass, the MS. of which is in his possession, the
Very Rev. J. P. Canon McCarthy, of Ilkeston, for particulars of
"The Shrine of our Lady of Dale," Mr. Segrave (son of Burton's "dear
Louisa"), Mrs. Agg (Burton's cousin), and Mr. P. P. Cautley (Burton's
colleague at Trieste). Nor must I omit reference to a kind letter
received from Mrs. Van Zeller, Lady Burton's only surviving sister. [4]
(4) From the Burton collections in the Free Libraries of
Camberwell and Kensington.
(5) From unpublished manuscripts written by Burton's friends.
(6) From the church registers of Elstree. By examination of
these and other documents I have been able to correct many mistakes.
(7) From the manuscripts of F. F. Arbuthnot and the Oriental
scholar, Edward Rehatsek. These are now in the possession of the Royal
Asiatic Society.
(8) From Mr. Arbuthnot's typewritten and unpublished Life of
Balzac now in my possession. This contains many notes throwing light on
the Burton and Arbuthnot friendship.
(9) From the Genealogical Table of the Burtons of Shap,
very kindly sent me by Mr. E. S. Mostyn Pryce.
(10) From various persons interviewed during many journeys.
One of these journeys (June 1905) took me, of course, to the Tomb of
Mortlake, and I was gratified to find that, owing to the watchfulness of
the Arundell family, it is kept in perfect repair. [5]
Let me first speak of the unpublished letters. These were lent me by Mr.
John Payne (40 letters), Mr. W. F. Kirby (50 letters), Major St. George
Burton, Mrs. E. J. Burton, Mrs. Agg, Mr. Mostyn Pryce, Dr. Tuckey, Mr.
D. MacRitchie, and Mr. A. G. Ellis. Many of the letters reveal Burton in
quite a new light. His patriotism and his courage were known of all men,
but the womanly tenderness of his nature and his intense love for his
friends will come to many as a surprise. His distress, for example, on
hearing of the death of Drake, [6] is particularly affecting.
Of the friends of Sir Richard Burton who have been interviewed I must
mention first of all Mr. John Payne. But for Mr. Payne's generous
assistance, this work I must frankly admit, could not have been written.
He, and he alone, held the keys to whole chambers of mystery. Mr. Payne
was at first extremely reluctant to give me the material required.
Indeed, in his first letter of reply to my request for information (7th
August 1904) he declined positively either to enter the lists against
Burton, with whom, he said, he had been on terms of intimate friendship,
or to discuss the matter at all. "As for what," he said, "it pleases the
public to think (save the mark!) of the relative merits of my own and
Burton's translations, I have long ceased to care a straw." But this led
me to write even more pressingly. I assured Mr. Payne that the public
had been unjust to him simply because nobody had hitherto set himself
the great task of comparing the two translations, and because the true
history of the case had never been laid before them. I assured him that
I yielded to nobody in admiration of Sir Richard Burton--that is, on
account of what he (Sir Richard) did do, not on account of what he did
not do; and I gave it as my opinion that Mr. Payne owed it both to the
public and to himself to lay bare the whole story. After several letters
and interviews I at last induced him to give way; and I think the public
will thank me for my persistency.
My revelations, which form an astonishing story, will no doubt come as
a complete surprise to almost everybody. I can imagine them, indeed,
dropping like a bombshell into some circles; but they are founded, not
only upon conversations with Mr. Payne, but upon Burton's own letters to
Mr. Payne, all of which have been in my hands, and careful study of the
two translations. The public, however, cannot possibly be more surprised
than I myself was when I compared the two translations page by page,
I could scarcely believe my own eyes; and only one conclusion was
possible. Burton, indeed, has taken from Payne at least three-quarters
of the entire work. He has transferred many hundreds of sentences and
clauses bodily. Sometimes we come upon a whole page with only a word or
two altered. [7] In short, amazing to say, the public have given Burton
credit for a gift which he did not possess [8]--that of being a great
translator. If the public are sorry, we are deeply sorry, too, but we
cannot help it. Burton's exalted position, however, as ethnologist
and anthropologist, is unassailable. He was the greatest linguist and
traveller that England ever produced. And four thrones are surely enough
for any man. I must mention that Mr. Payne gave me an absolute free
hand--nay, more than that, having placed all the documents before me,
he said--and this he repeated again and again--"Wherever there is any
doubt, give Burton the benefit of it," and I have done so.
In dealing with the fight [9] over The Arabian Nights I have endeavoured
to write in such a way as to give offence to nobody, and for that reason
have made a liberal use of asterisks. I am the more desirous of saying
this because no one is better aware than myself of the services that
some of Burton's most bitter opponents--those ten or twelve men whom
he contemptuously termed Laneites--have rendered to literature and
knowledge. In short, I regard the battle as fought and won. I am merely
writing history. No man at the present day would dream of mentioning
Lane in the same breath with Payne and Burton. In restoring to Mr. Payne
his own, I have had no desire to detract from Burton. Indeed, it is
impossible to take from a man that which he never possessed. Burton was
a very great man, Mr. Payne is a very great man, but they differ as two
stars differ in glory. Burton is the magnificent man of action and the
anthropologist, Mr. Payne the brilliant poet and prose writer. Mr. Payne
did not go to Mecca or Tanganyika, Burton did not translate The Arabian
Nights, [10] or write The Rime of Redemption and Vigil and Vision.
He did, however, produce the annotations of The Arabian Nights, and a
remarkable enough and distinct work they form.
I recall with great pleasure an evening spent with Mr. Watts-Dunton at
The Pines, Putney. The conversation ran chiefly on the Gipsies, [11]
upon whom Mr. Watts-Dunton is one of our best authorities, and the
various translations of The Arabian Nights. Both he and Mr. A. C.
Swinburne have testified to Burton's personal charm and his marvellous
powers. "He was a much valued and loved friend," wrote Mr. Swinburne to
me [12], "and I have of him none but the most delightful recollections."
Mr. Swinburne has kindly allowed me to give in full his magnificent poem
on "The Death of Richard Burton." Dr. Grenfell Baker, whom I interviewed
in London, had much to tell me respecting Sir Richard's last three
years; and he has since very kindly helped me by letter.
The great object of this book is to tell the story of Burton's life, to
delineate as vividly as possible his remarkable character--his magnetic
personality, and to defend him alike from enemy and friend. In writing
it my difficulties have been two. First, Burton himself was woefully
inaccurate as an autobiographer, and we must also add regretfully that
we have occasionally found him colouring history in order to suit his
own ends. [13] He would have put his life to the touch rather than
misrepresent if he thought any man would suffer thereby; but he seems to
have assumed that it did not matter about keeping strictly to the truth
if nobody was likely to be injured. Secondly, Lady Burton, with
haughty indifference to the opinions of everyone else, always exhibited
occurrences in the light in which she herself desired to see them.
This fact and the extreme haste with which her book was written are
sufficient to account for most of its shortcomings. She relied entirely
upon her own imperfect recollections. Church registers and all such
documents were ignored. She begins with the misstatement that Burton was
born at Elstree, she makes scarcely any reference to his most intimate
friends and even spells their names wrongly. [14] Her remarks on the
Kasidah are stultified by the most cursory glance at that poem; while
the whole of her account of the translating of The Arabian Nights is at
variance with Burton's own letters and conversations. I am assured by
several who knew Burton intimately that the untrustworthiness of the
latter part of Lady Burton's "Life" of her husband is owing mainly to
her over-anxiety to shield him from his enemies. But I think she mistook
the situation. I do not believe Burton had any enemies to speak of at
the time of his death.
If Lady Burton's treatment of her husband's unfinished works cannot be
defended, on the other hand I shall show that the loss as regards
The Scented Garden was chiefly a pecuniary one, and therefore almost
entirely her own. The publication of The Scented Garden would not--it
could not--have added to Burton's fame. However, the matter will be
fully discussed in its proper place.
It has generally been supposed that two other difficulties must confront
any conscientious biographer of Burton--the first being Burton's choice
of subjects, and the second the friction between Lady Burton and the
Stisteds. But as regards the first, surely we are justified in assuming
that Burton's studies were pursued purely for historical and scientific
purposes. He himself insisted in season and out of season that his
outlook was solely that of the student, and my researches for the
purposes of this work have thoroughly convinced me that, however much we
may deprecate some of these studies, Burton himself was sincere enough
in his pursuit of them. His nature, strange as it may seem to some
ears, was a cold one [15]; and at the time he was buried in the most
forbidding of his studies he was an old man racked with infirmities.
Yet he toiled from morning to night, year in year out, more like a navvy
than an English gentleman, with an income of L700 a year, and 10,000
"jingling, tingling, golden, minted quid," as R. L. Stevenson would have
said, in his pocket. In his hunger for the fame of an author, he forgot
to feed his body, and had to be constantly reminded of its needs by his
medical attendant and others. And then he would wolf down his food, in
order to get back quickly to his absorbing work. The study had become a
monomania with him.
I do not think there is a more pathetic story in the history of
literature than that which I have to tell of the last few weeks of
Burton's life. You are to see the old man, always ailing, sometimes in
acute pain--working twenty-five hours a day, as it were--in order to get
completed a work by which he supposed he was to live for ever. In the
same room sits the wife who dearly loves him, and whom he dearly loves
and trusts. A few days pass. He is gone. She burns, page by page, the
work at which he had toiled so long and so patiently. And here comes the
pathos of it--she was, in the circumstances, justified in so doing.
As regards Lady Burton and the Stisteds, it was natural, perhaps,
that between a staunch Protestant family such as the Stisteds, and
an uncompromising Catholic like Lady Burton there should have been
friction; but both Lady Burton and Miss Stisted are dead. Each made,
during Lady Burton's lifetime, an honest attempt to think well of the
other; each wrote to the other many sweet, sincere, and womanly letters;
but success did not follow. Death, however, is a very loving mother. She
gently hushes her little ones to sleep; and, as they drop off, the red
spot on the cheek gradually fades away, and even the tears on the pillow
soon dry.
Although Miss Stisted's book has been a help to me I cannot endorse
her opinion that Burton's recall from Damascus was the result of
Lady Burton's indiscretions. Her books give some very interesting
reminiscences of Sir Richard's childhood and early manhood, [16] but
practically it finishes with the Damascus episode. Her innocent remarks
on The Scented Garden must have made the anthropological sides
of Ashbee, Arbuthnot, and Burton's other old friends shake with
uncontrollable laughter. Unfortunately, she was as careless as Lady
Burton. Thus on page 48 she relates a story about Burton's attempt to
carry off a nun; but readers of Burton's book on Goa will find that it
had no connection with Burton whatever. It was a story someone had told
him.
In these pages Burton will be seen on his travels, among his friends,
among his books, fighting, writing, quarrelling, exploring, joking,
flying like a squib from place to place--a 19th century Lord
Peterborough, though with the world instead of a mere continent for
theatre. Even late in life, when his infirmities prevented larger
circuits, he careered about Europe in a Walpurgic style that makes the
mind giddy to dwell upon.
Of Burton's original works I have given brief summaries; but as a writer
he shines only in isolated passages. We go to him not for style but for
facts. Many of his books throw welcome light on historical portions of
the Bible. [17]
Of those of his works which are erotic in the true sense of the word I
have given a sufficient account, and one with which I am convinced even
the most captious will not find fault. [18] When necessity has obliged
me to touch upon the subject to which Sir Richard devoted his last
lustrum, I have been as brief as possible, and have written in a way
that only scholars could understand. In short I have kept steadily
in view the fact that this work is one which will lie on drawing-room
tables and be within the reach of everyone. I have nowhere mentioned the
subject by name, but I do not see how I could possible have avoided all
allusion to it. I have dwelt on Burton's bravery, his tenderness, his
probity, his marvellous industry, his encyclopaedic learning--but the
picture would not have been a true one had I entirely over-passed the
monomania of his last days. Hamlet must be shown, if not at his maddest,
at any rate mad, or he would not be Hamlet at all.
As regards Burton's letters, I have ruthlessly struck out every sentence
that might give offence. [19] While I have not hesitated to expose Sir
Richard's faults, I have endeavoured to avoid laying too much stress
upon them. I have tried, indeed, to get an idea of the mountain not only
by climbing its sides, but also by viewing it from a distance. I trust
that there will be found nothing in this book to hurt the feelings of
any living person or indeed of any body of persons. I have certainly
tried my utmost to avoid causing pain, and if the reader will kindly
bear in mind that it is as much a Christian duty to avoid taking offence
as to avoid giving offence, we shall amble along pleasantly together to
the very last page. Out of consideration for Catholics I have suppressed
a number of passages; and if I have allowed Sir Richard in one or two
instances to make a lunge at their church, I trust they will notice
that I have permitted him the same licence with regard to the Church
of England and Exeter Hall. Finally, my impartiality is proved by my
allowing him to gird at the poet Cowper.
Wherever possible, that is to say, when I could do it without ambiguity
I have also out of courtesy used the term Catholic instead of Roman
Catholic; and in order to meet what I believe to be the wishes of Lady
Burton's executors, I have omitted all mention of certain events that
occurred after Sir Richard's death.
The various works of Mr. W. H. Wilkins have been of great help to me,
and I cannot avoid paying a passing tribute to the excellent opening
passages [20] of the Preface of his edition of Lady Burton's Life of her
husband.
The illustrations in this book are of exceptional interest. They
include the Burton family portraits, the originals of which are in the
possession of Mr. Mostyn Pryce and Mrs. Agg. During the lifetime of Sir
Richard and Lady Burton they were the property of Lady and Miss Stisted;
but, owing to her difference with these ladies, Lady Burton was not able
to use them in the life of her husband; and Miss Stisted's own scheme
did not include illustrations. So they are now reproduced for the first
time. The most noticeable are the quaint picture of Burton, his brother
and sister as children, and the oil painting of Burton and Lady Stisted
made by Jacquand about 1851. Of great interest, too, is the series of
photographs taken at Trieste by Dr. Grenfell Baker; while the portraits
of Burton's friends, Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot, Mr. John Payne, Major St.
George Burton, Dr. Baker, Mr. W. F. Kirby, Mr. A. G. Ellis, Professor J.
F. Blumhardt, and others, will no doubt be appreciated by the public.
The writing of this book has been a thorough pleasure to me, not only on
account of the infinite charm of the subject, but also because everyone
whom I have approached has treated me with studied kindness. The
representatives of Sir Richard Burton, of Lady Burton (through Mr. W.
H. Wilkins) and of Miss Stisted have not only helped and permitted me
to use the unpublished letters, [21] but have generously given me a
free hand. I am deeply indebted to them, and I can only trust that
these pages will prove that their confidence in my judgment has not been
misplaced.
To everyone who has assisted me I tender my sincere thanks, and I assure
them that I shall never forget their abundant kindness.
Finally, in writing this work every possible care has been taken to
ensure accuracy [22]; but that absolute perfection has been attained is
improbable. It is hoped, however,--to borrow the quaint expression of
the Persian poet Jami--"that the noble disposition of the readers will
induce them to pass over defects." [23]
My grateful thanks are due to the following ladies and gentlemen for
various services.
Arbuthnot, Mrs. F. F., 43 South Street, Park Lane, London.
Ashbee, Mr. C. G., Woolstapler Hall, Chipping Cambden,
Gloucestershire.
Agg, Mrs. Hewletts, Cheltenham.
Baddeley, Mrs., Brighton.
Baker, Dr. Grenfell, 25, Southwick Street, Hyde Park, W.
Birch, Mrs. G. M., Lympstone Grange, South Devon.
Blumhardt, Prof. James F., British Museum.
Burton, Mrs. E. J., 31, Wilbury Road, Brighton.
Burton, Major St. George, The Black Watch.
Burton, Mr. Frederick, Brighton.
Cautley, Mr. P. P., 4, Via della Zonta, Trieste.
Clayton, Mr. Arthur, South View, Ropley, Hants.
Carrington, Mr. Charles, 13, Faubourg Montmartre, Paris.
Chatto, Mr. Andrew, Hillside, Elstree.
Codrington, Dr., Royal Asiatic Society, Albemarle Street.
Committee, The, of the Central Library, Camberwell.
Eales, Rev. A. R. T., The Rectory, Elstree, Herts.
Ellis, Mr. A. G., British Museum.
Editors, The, of the following newspapers: The Times, The Daily
Telegraph, The Standard, The Daily News, The Morning Post,
The Daily Chronicle, The Daily Mail, The Athenaeum, The Saturday
Review, The Academy, for inserting letters for me at different
times. These letters put me in touch with several of Burton's
old friends.
Gardiner, Mr. C. H., 4, Montpelier Crescent, Brighton.
George, Mr. William H., 2, Highfield Terrace, Bognor.
Hector, Mr. E., Bookseller, 103, John Bright Street, Birmingham.
Hutchinson & Co., Messrs, for the loan of the portrait of Khamoor.
Jones, Mr. Herbert, The Library, High Street, Kensington.
Josling, Mr. A., 36, Lyndhurst Grove, Camberwell.
Kirby, Mr. W. F., "Hilden," Sutton Court Road, Chiswick, London.
Letchford, Miss Daisy (now Madame Nicastro), Mezellina 178, Naples.
McCarthy, The Very Rev. P. J. Canon, Ilkeston, Derbyshire.
Mendelssohn, Mr. S., 21, Kensington Court Gardens, London, W.
Murray, Mr. T. Douglas, Pyt Cottage, Tisbury, Wilts.
MacRitchie, Mr. David, 4, Archibald Place, Edinburgh.
Newcombe, Mr. C. F., 16, Champion Park, Denmark Hill, London, S. E.
Nicastro, Madame.
Payne, Mr. John.
Pelham, Dr., President of Trinity College, Oxford.
Pryce, Mr. E. S. Mostyn, Gunley Hall, Chirbury, Shropshire.
Rankin-Lloyd, Mrs., Wilne House, Pembroke.
Royal Asiatic Society (for permission to examine the Arbuthnot and
Rehatsek manuscripts).
Roe, Rev. Henry, 12, Barnoon Terrace, St. Ives, Cornwall.
Sams, Rev. G. F., The Rectory, Emberton, Bucks.
Segrave, Mr. H., Seaview, Lyme Regis, Dorset.
Snowsill, Mr. W. G., Camberwell Central Library.
Spencer, Mr. W. T., Bookseller, 27, New Oxford Street, London, W. C.
Steingass, Mrs., 36, Lyndhurst Grove, Camberwell.
Tussaud, Mr. John, of "Madame Tussaud's."
Tedder, Mr., The Athenaeum.
Tuckey, Dr. Charles Lloyd, 88, Park Street, Grosvenor Square,
London.
Van Zeller, Mrs. (Lady Burton's sister).
Wilkins, Mr. W. H., 3, Queen Street, Mayfair, London, W.
Wood, Mr. W. Martin, Underwood, Oatlands Avenue, Weybridge.
Wyllie, Mr. Francis R. S., 6, Montpellier Villas, Brighton.
My wife, too, upon whom devolved the heavy task of transcribing,
must also be awarded her meed of praise.
The following is a fairly complete list of the various Books and
Magazine Articles that have been laid under contribution.
Arbuthnot, F. F., "Persian Portraits." 1887
"The Mysteries of Chronology."
"Life of Balzac (in Manuscript)."
"Baily's Monthly Magazine," April 1883.
Baddeley, St. Clair (See Richards, A. B.)
Burton, Lady. "Life of Sir Richard Burton," 2 vols. 1893.
Her Works. 5 vols.
Burton, Sir Richard. His Works. 60 vols.
"Edinburgh Review," July 1886. No. 335.
Hitchman, F., "Richard R. Burton," 2 vols. 1887.
Kama Shastra Society's Publications.
Magazine Articles by or relating to Burton. Too numerous
to mention.
Payne, Mr. John, The Book of "The Thousand Nights and One Night,"
9 vols., 1882-4, and "Omar Kheyyam."
"Perfumed Garden, The." Published in 1904 by Mr. Carrington,
of Paris.
Its Preface contains letters from several of the leading Arabists
of the day, including M. Fagnan and Professor Hartwig Derenbourg,
Membre de l'Institut.
Richards (A. B.), Wilson (A.), and Baddeley (St. C.), "Sketch of the
Career of Richard F. Burton," 1886.
Rehatsek (Edward), Translations.
Roe, Rev. Henry, "West African Scenes," "Fernando Po Mission."
Stisted, Miss Georgiana, "Reminiscences of Sir Richard Burton"--
"Temple Bar," July, 1891. Vol. 92.
"The True Life of Sir Richard Burton," 1896.
"Saturday Review," "Ultima Thule," 1876, Jan. 15 (p. 82).
"Zanzibar," 1872, February 17th (p. 222).
Wilkins, W. H., "The Romance of Isabel Lady Burton," 2 vols. 1897.
Also the various works by Sir Richard Burton that have been
edited by Mr. Wilkins.
Wilson, A. (See Richards, A. B.)
Thomas Wright.
Contents of Volume I
Chapter I
19th March 1821-October 1840
Childhood and Youth
1. Torquay and Elstree, 19th March 1821
2. Tours and Elstree
3. Death of Richard Baker, 16th September 1824
4. At School, Richmond, 1829
5. The Continent Again, 1829
Chapter II
October 1840-April 1842
Oxford
6. Trinity College, Oxford, October 1840
7. Expelled, April 1842
Chapter III
April 1842-20th February 1847
Sind
8. To Bombay, 18th June 1842
9. Baroda: The Bubu
10. Narachi: Love of Disguise
11. A Dangerous Mission, 1845
12. The Persian Beauty
13. A Simian Dictionary
14. Duality
Chapter IV
20th February 1847-1849
Under the Spell of Camoens
15. Goa and Camoens
16. Would you a Sufi be?
17. Letter to Sarah Burton, 14th November 1848
18. Allahdad
Chapter V
1849-3rd April 1853
Chiefly Boulogne
19. A Motto from Ariosto
20. Isabel Arundell and "My dear Louisa," 1851
21. F. F. Arbuthnot, 1853
Chapter VI
3rd April 1853-29th October 1854
Pilgrimage to Mecca
22. The Man wants to Wander
23. Haji Wali
24. The Pilgrim Ship, 6th July 1853
25. Medina
26. Mecca
27. Burton's Delight in Shocking
28. El Islam
Chapter VII
29th October 1854-22nd April 1855
To Harar
29. The Arabian Nights, October 1854
30. From Zeila to Harar, 27th November 1854
31. At Harar, 2nd January, 1855
32. From Harar to Berbera, 13th January 1855
33. The Fight at Berbera, 22nd April 1855
Chapter VIII
34. The Crimea
35. Engaged to Isabel Arundell, August 1856
Chapter IX
22nd April 1855-December 1856
The Unveiling of Isis
36. To Fuga, January 1857
37. Zanzibar to Tanganyika, 26th June 1857-26th May 1858
38. The Return Journey, 26th May, 1858-13th February 1859
Chapter X
21st May 1859-August 1861
Mormons and Marriage
39. We Rushed into Each Other's Arms, 22nd May 1860
40. Brigham Young
41. Marriage
42. At Lord Houghton's
Chapter XI
August 1861-29th November 1863
Fernando Po
43. African Gold
44. Anecdotes
45. Fans and Gorillas
46. The Anthropological Society, 6th January 1863
Chapter XII
29th November, 1863-10th November 1865
Gelele
47. Whydah and its Deity, 29th November 1863
48. The Amazons
49. "The Customs"
50. Death of Speke, 15th September 1864
Chapter XIII
October 1865-October 1869
2nd Consulate: Santos
51. To Santos
52. Aubertin: Death of Dr. Steinhauser, 27th July 1866
53. The Facetious Cannibals
54. Up the Sao Francisco
55. In Paraguay, August 1868-April 1869
Chapter XIV
1st October 1869-16th August 1871
"Emperor and Empress of Damascus"
56. Archbishop Manning and the Odd Fish
57. 3rd Consulate: Damascus
58. Jane Digby el Mezrab
59. To Tadmor
60. Palmer and Drake, 11th July 1870
61. Khamoor
62. The Shazlis
63. The Recall, 16th August 1871
Chapter XV
16th August 1871-4th June 1872
"The Blackness of Darkness"
64. With Sir H. Stisted at Norwood
65. Reduced to L15
66. An Orgie at Lady Alford's, 2nd November 1871
67. The Tichborne Trial
68. Khamoor at the Theatre, November 1871
Chapter XVI
4th June 1872-24th October 1872
In Iceland
69. In Edinburgh Again, 4th June, 1872
70. Wardour Castle, 5th July 1872
71. St. George and Frederick Burton
72. At the Athenaeum
73. Jane Digby again
74. His Book on Zanzibar
Chapter XVII
24th October 1872-12th May 1875
4th Consulate: Trieste
75. Burton at Trieste, 24th October 1872
76. At the Vienna Exhibition, 1873
77. A Visit from Drake, June 1873
78. Khamoor returns to Syria, 4th December 1874
Chapter XVIII
12th May 1875-18th June 1876
The Trip to India
79. Visit to England, 12th May 1875
80. "Tonic Bitters"
81. A Trip to India, December 1875-18th June 1876
82. Arbuthnot again; Rehatsek
83. In Sind
84. Golconda
Chapter XIX
18th June 1876-31st March 1877
Colonel Gordon
85. Ariosto
86. Death of Rashid Pasha, June 1876
87. Colonel Gordon
88. Jane Digby the Second
89. The Old Baronetcy, 18th January 1877
Chapter XX
31st March 1877-27th December 1879
Midian
90. The New Joseph, March 1877
91. More Advice to "Lazybones"
92. Haji Wali again
93. Graffiti
94. Letter to Sir Henry Gordon, 4th July 1878
95. Death of Maria Stisted, 12th November 1878
96. Burton's "Six Senses," 2nd December 1878
97. Still thinking of Midian
Chapter XXI
27th Devember 1879-August 1881
Camoens
98. The Lusiads
99. Ober Ammergan
100. Mrs. Burton's Advice to Novelists
101. The Kasidah
102. Lisa
Chapter XXII
August 1881-20th May 1882
John Payne
103. With Cameron at Venice, August 1881
104. John Payne, November 1881
105. To the Gold Coast, 25th November 1881-20th May 1882
Chapter XXIII
July 1883-November 1883
The Meeting of Burton and Payne
106. Mrs. Grundy begins to Roar, May 1882
107. The Search for Palmer, October 1882
Chapter XXIV
July 1883-November 1883
The Palazzone
108. Anecdotes of Burton
109. Burton and Mrs. Disraeli
110. "I am an Old English Catholic"
111. Burton begins his Translation, April 1884
112. The Battle over the Nights
113. Completion of Payne's Translation
Chapter XXV
The Kama Shastra Society
114. The Azure Apollo
115. The Kama Sutra
Chapter XXVI
"The Ananga Ranga"
1885
116. The Anana Ranga
117. The Beharistan
118. The Gulistan
119. The Nigaristan
120. The "1884" Letters to Payne
121. At Sauerbrunn, 12th August, 1884
122. Burton's Circulars
123. The Book of the Sword
124. The Lyrics of Camoens
125. More Letters to John Payne
126. Death of Gordon, January 1885
127. Mr. W. F. Kirby, 25th March 1885
Chapter XXVII
May 1885-5th February 1886
A Glance Through "The Arabian Nights"
128. Slaving at the Athenaeum
129. A Visit to Mr. Arbuthnot's
130. Dr. Steingass
131. Anecdotes
132. The Pentameron: Burton and Gladstone
133. A Brief Glance through the Nights
Chapter XXVIII
The Two Translations Compared
134. The Blacksmith who, etc.
135. Abu Al-Hasen and Abu Ja'afar the Leper
136. The Summing Up
Chapter XXIX
Burton's Notes
137. Burton's Notes
138. The Terminal Essay
139. Final Summing Up
140. Mr. Swinburne on Burton
Chapter XXX
21st November 1885-18th July 1888
K.C.M.G.
141. In Morocco, 21st November 1885
142. K.C.M.G.
143. Burton at 65
144. More Anecdotes
Chapter XXXI
Burton's Religion
145. Burton's Religion
146. Burton as a Writer
Chapter XXXII
Burton and Social Questions
147. The Population Question
148. New Projects
149. Mr. A. G. Ellis and Professor Blumhardt, June 1886-April 1887
150. Dr. Leslie and Dr. Baker, April 1887; Anecdotes
151. Three Months at Abbazia, December 1887-March 1888
Chapter XXXIII
18th July 1888-15th October 1888
The Last Visit to England: "Supplemental Nights"
152. Meeting with Mr. Swinburne and others
153. H. W. Ashbee
154. Bacon causes Sparks
155. The Gipsy Lore Society, August 1888
156. The Supplemental Nights, 1st December, 1886-1st August 1888
157. Comparison
Chapter XXXIV
"The Scented Garden." November 1888
158. Naizawi
159. Origin of The Scented Garden
160. Contents of The Scented Garden
161. Burton's Translation
Chapter XXXV
15th October 1888-21st July, 1890
Working at the Catullus and the "Scented Garden"
162. In Switzerlant, 15th October 1888
163. Mr. Letchford, August and September 1889
164. To Dr. Tuckey
165. To Mr. Kirby, 15th May 1889
166. Tunis and Algiers, 20th December 1889
167. Arbuthnot in Trieste, May 1890
Chapter XXXVI
"The Priapeia"
168. The Priapeia, 1890
169. Catullus and The Last Trip, 1st July-7th Sept
170. At Maloja
171. The Golden Ass
Chapter XXXVII
Death of Sir Richard Burton, 20th October 1890
172. Death
Chapter XXXVIII
20th October 1890-Devember 1890
The Fate of the "Scented Garden"
173. "Our Dead in Rare Instances Come Back"
174. Discrepancies in Lady Burton's Story
175. The Fate of the Catullus
176. Lisa Departs, November 1890
Chapter XXXVIX
January 1891-July 1891
Lady Burton in England
177. Lady Burton arrives in England
178. The Funeral at Mortlake
179. The Scented Garden Storm, June and July 1891
Chapter XL
June 1891-27th December 1893
O Tome, O Tomb
180. A Letter to Miss Stisted
181. The Writing of the "Life"
182. The Library Edition
Chapter XLI
22nd March, 1896
Death of Lady Burton
183. Lady Burton at Eastbourne
184. Death of Lady Burton, 22nd March 1896
185. Miss Sitsted's True Life
186. Mr. Wilkins's Work
187. Burton's Friends
Verses on the Death of Richard Burton, by Mr. A. C. Swinburne
Appendices
1. Bibliography of Richard Burton
2. List of Works included in the "Memorial Edition"
3. List of Biographies of Burton
4. Extracts relating to Burton from the Index to the Publications of
the Anthropological Institute
5. Bibliography of F. F. Arbuthnot
6. Bibliography of Dr. Steingass
7. Bibliography of John Payne
8. The Beharistan
9. The Nigaristan and other unpublished Works translated by Rehatsek
10. W. F. Kirby
11. Genealogical Table. The Burtons of Shap {not included}
Chapter I. 19th March 1821-October 1840
Childhood and Youth
1. Torquay and Elstree.
Sir Richard Burton, the famous traveller, linguist, and
anthropologist--"the Arabian Knight"--"the last of the demi-gods"--has
been very generally regarded as the most picturesque figure of his
time, and one of the most heroic and illustrious men that "this blessed
plot... this England," this mother of heroes every produced.
The Burtons, a Westmoreland family [24] who had settled in Ireland,
included among their members several men of eminence, not only in the
army, which had always powerfully attracted them, but also in the navy
and the church. [25] For long there was a baronetcy in the family, but
it fell into abeyance about 1712, and all attempts of the later Burtons
to substantiate their claim to it proved ineffectual. [26]
Burton supposed himself to be descended from Louis XIV. La Belle
Montmorency, a beauty of the French court, had, it seems, a son, of
which she rather believed Louis to be the father. In any circumstances
she called the baby Louis Le Jeune, put him in a basket of flowers
and carried him to Ireland, where he became known as Louis Drelincourt
Young. Louis Young's grand-daughter married the Rev. Edward Burton,
Richard Burton's grandfather. Thus it is possible that a runnel of the
blood of "le grand monarque" tripped through Burton's veins. But
Burton is a Romany name, and as Richard Burton had certain gipsy
characteristics, some persons have credited him with gipsy lineage.
Certainly no man could have been more given to wandering. Lastly,
through his maternal grandmother, he was descended from the famous
Scotch marauder, Rob Roy.
Burton's parents were Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Netterville Burton, a
tall, handsome man with sallow skin, dark hair, and coal-black eyes,
and Martha Beckwith, the accomplished but plain daughter of Richard
and Sarah Baker, of Barham House (now "Hillside" [27]), Elstree,
Hertfordshire.
Richard Baker was an opulent country gentleman, and the most important
personage in the parish. Judging from the size of his pew at church,
"No. 19," he must also have been a man of eminent piety, for it
contained sixteen sittings. At all events he kept the parish in
admirable order, and, as churchwarden, discountenanced unreasonable
sleeping in church. Thanks to his patronage the choir made marked
progress, and eventually there was no louder in the county. In 1813,
we find him overseer with one George Olney. He took a perfunctory [28]
interest in the village school (where, by the by, Arthur Orton, the
Tichborne claimant, received his elaborate education), and was for a
time "director." He led the breezy life of a country gentleman. With his
fat acres, his thumping balance at the bank, his cellar of crusted wine,
and his horse that never refused a gate, this world seemed to him a
nether paradise. He required, he said, only one more boon to make his
happiness complete--namely, a grandson with unmistakably red hair.
A shrewd man of business, Mr. Baker tied up every farthing of his
daughter's fortune, L30,000; and this was well, for Burton's father, a
rather Quixotic gentleman, had but a child's notion of the use of
money. The Burtons resided at Torquay, and Colonel Burton busied himself
chiefly in making chemical experiments, of which he was remarkably fond;
but the other members of the household, who generally went about
holding their noses, appear not to have sympathised with his studies
and researches. He was very superstitious--nothing, for instance, could
induce him to reveal his birthday; and he fretted continually because he
was not permitted to invest his wife's money and make a second fortune;
which no doubt he would very soon have done--for somebody else.
Richard Francis Burton was born at Torquay [29] on 19th March 1821; and
to the intemperate joy of the family his hair was a fierce and fiery
red. The news flew madly to Elstree. Old Mr. Baker could scarcely
contain himself, and vowed then and there to leave the whole of his
fortune to his considerate grandson. The baby, of course, was promptly
called Richard after Mr. Baker, with Francis as an afterthought; and
a little later the Burtons went to reside at Barham House with the
grandparents. Richard was baptised in the parish church at Elstree,
2nd September 1821. In the entry his father's abode is called "Bareham
Wood," [30] the name being spelt various ways. Our illustration of the
old church is taken from an engraving made to commemorate the burial
of William Weare [31] murdered by the notorious John Thurtell; an event
that occurred in 1823, when Burton was two years old.
There was another link between the Burtons and the Bakers, for Joseph
Netterville's youngest brother, Francis, military surgeon in the 99th
regiment, married Sarah Baker, Mr. Richard Baker's eldest daughter. Dr.
Burton [32] who was in St. Helena at the time of Napoleon's death lives
in history as the man who "took a bust of the dead emperor." [33]
2. Tours and Elstree.
Being subject to asthma, Colonel Burton now left England and hired a
chateau called Beausejour situated on an eminence near Tours, where
there was an English colony. For several years the family fluctuated
between Tours and Elstree, and we hear of a great yellow chariot which
from time to time rolled into daylight. Richard's hair gradually turned
from its fiery and obtrusive red to jet black, but the violent temper
of which the former colour is supposed to be indicative, and of which he
had already many times given proofs, signalised him to the end of life.
In 1823 Mrs. Burton gave birth to a daughter, Maria Katharine Elisa, who
became the wife of General Sir Henry Stisted; and on 3rd July 1824 to a
son, Edward Joseph Netterville, both of whom were baptized at
Elstree. [34] While at Tours the children were under the care of their
Hertfordshire nurse, Mrs. Ling, a good, but obstinately English soul who
had been induced to cross the Channel only after strenuous opposition.
3. Death of Richard Baker, 16th September 1824.
Richard Burton always preserved some faint recollections of his
grandfather. "The first thing I remember," he says, "was being brought
down after dinner at Barham House to eat white currants, seated upon the
knee of a tall man with yellow hair and blue eyes." This would be in the
summer of 1824. Mr. Baker, as we have seen, had intended to leave the
whole of his property--worth about half a million--to his red-haired
grandson; and an old will, made in 1812, was to be cancelled. But
Burton's mother had a half brother--Richard Baker, junior--too whom she
was extravagantly attached, and, in order that this brother should not
lose a fortune, she did everything in her power to prevent Mr. Baker
from carrying out his purpose. Three years passed away, but at last Mr.
Baker resolved to be thwarted no longer, so he drove to his lawyer's.
It was the 16th of September 1824. He reached the door and leapt nimbly
from his carriage; but his foot had scarcely touched the ground before
he fell dead of heart disease. So the old will had to stand, and the
property, instead of going to Burton, was divided among the children
of Mr. Baker, Burton's mother taking merely her share. But for this
extraordinary good hap Richard Burton might have led the life of an
undistinguished country gentleman; ingloriously breaking his dogs,
training his horses and attending to the breed of stock. The planting of
a quincunx or the presentation of a pump to the parish might have proved
his solitary title to fame. Mr. Baker was buried at Elstree church,
where may be seen a tablet to him with the following inscription:
"Sacred to the memory of Richard Baker, Esq., late of Barham
House in this parish, who departed this life on the 16th September 1824,
aged 62 years." [35]
Soon after the death of her husband, Mrs. Baker must have left Elstree,
[36] for from 1827 to 1839, Barham House was occupied by Viscount
Northland. The Burtons continued to reside at Tours, and all went
well until cholera broke out. Old Mrs. Baker, hearing the news, and
accounting prevention better than cure, at once hurried across the
channel; nor did she breathe freely until she had plugged every nose at
Beausejour with the best Borneo camphor.
The apprehensive old lady, indeed, hovered round her grandchildren all
day like some guardian angel, resolutely determined that no conceivable
means should be spared to save them from the dreaded epidemic; and it
was not until she had seen them safely tucked in their snowy, lavendered
beds that her anxieties of the day really ceased. One night, however,
when she went, as was her custom, to look at the sleeping children
before retiring herself, she found, to her horror, that they were not
there. The whole household was roused, and there was an agonising hue
and cry; but, by and by, the culprits were seen slinking softly in at
the principal door. It seems that they had climbed down from their room
and had gone the round with the death carts and torches, to help collect
corpses; and enquiry revealed that they had worked considerably harder
than the paid men. When the cholera scare passed off Mrs. Baker took to
learning French, and with such success that in less than six months she
was able to speak several words, though she could never get hold of the
correct pronunciation. Despite, however, her knowledge of the language,
the good lady did not take kindly to France, and she often looked
wistfully northwards, quoting as she did so her favourite Cowper:
"England with all thy faults I love thee still."
She and Mrs. Ling, the old nurse, who pined for English beef and
beer, made some attempts to console each other, but with inappreciable
success, and finally the fellow-sufferers, their faces now beaming with
smiles, returned together to their England. And not even Campbell's
sailor lad was gladder to see again the "dear cliffs of Dover."
Our charmingly quaint picture of Richard, his sister and brother, in
wondrous French costumes, is from an oil painting [37] which has not
before been copied. Richard was first taught by a lame Irishman named
Clough, who kept a school at Tours; and by and by, chiefly for the
children's sake, Colonel Burton gave up Beausejour and took a house in
the Rue De L'Archeveche, the best street in the town. The little Burtons
next attended the academy of a Mr. John Gilchrist, who grounded them in
Latin and Greek. A kind-hearted man, Mr. Gilchrist often gave his
pupils little treats. Once, for instance, he took them to see a woman
guillotined. Richard and Edward were, to use Richard's expression,
"perfect devilets." Nor was the sister an angelet. The boys lied,
fought, beat their maids, generally after running at their petticoats
and upsetting them, smashed windows, stole apple puffs; and their
escapades and Richard's ungovernable temper were the talk of the
neighourhood. Their father was at this time given to boar hunting in
the neighbouring forest, but as he generally damaged himself against the
trees and returned home on a stretcher, he ultimately abandoned himself
again to the equally useful but less perilous pursuit of chemistry.
If Colonel Burton's blowpipes and retorts and his conduct in private
usually kept Mrs. Burton on tenterhooks, she was no less uneasy on his
account when they went into society. He was so apt to call things by
their right names. Thus on one occasion when the conversation ran upon
a certain lady who was known to be unfaithful to her husband, he
inexpressibly shocked a sensitive company by referring to her as "an
adulteress." In this trait, as in many others, his famous son closely
resembled him.
A youthful Stoic, Burton, in times of suffering, invariably took
infinite pains to conceal his feelings. Thus all one day he was in
frightful agony with the toothache, but nobody knew anything about it
until next morning when his cheek was swollen to the size of a peewit's
egg. He tried, too, to smother every affectionate instinct; but when
under strong emotion was not always successful. One day, throwing
stones, he cut his sister's forehead. Forgetting all his noble
resolutions he flew to her, flung his arms round her, kissed her again
and again, and then burst into a fit of crying. Mrs. Burton's way of
dressing her children had the charm of simplicity. She used to buy a
piece of yellow nankin and make up three suits as nearly as possible
alike, except for size. We looked, said Burton, "like three sticks of
barley sugar," and the little French boys who called after them in the
streets thought so too, until Richard had well punched all their heads,
when their opinions underwent a sudden change.
Another household incident that fixed itself in Burton's mind was the
loss of their "elegant and chivalrous French chef," who had rebelled
when ordered to boil a gigot. "Comment, madame," he replied to Mrs.
Burton, "un--gigot!--cuit a l'eau, jamais! Neverre!" And rather than
spoil, as he conceived it, a good leg of mutton he quitted her service.
[38] Like most boys, Burton was fond of pets, and often spent hours
trying to revive some bird or small beast that had met with misfortune,
a bias that affords a curious illustration of the permanence of
character. The boy of nine once succeeded in resuscitating a favourite
bullfinch which had nearly drowned itself in a great water jug--and
we shall find the man of sixty-nine, on the very last day of his life,
trying to revive a half-drowned robin.
4. At School, Richmond, 1829.
In 1829 the Burtons returned to England and took a house in Maids
of Honour Row, Richmond, while Richard and Edward were sent to a
preparatory school at Richmond Green--a handsome building with a paddock
which enclosed some fine old elms--kept by a "burly savage," named the
Rev. Charles Delafosse. Although the fees were high, the school was
badly conducted, and the boys were both ill-taught and ill-fed. Richard
employed himself out of school hours fighting with the other boys, and
had at one time thirty-two affairs of honour to settle. "On the first
occasion," he says, "I received a blow in the eye, which I thought most
unfair, and having got my opponent down I proceeded to hammer his head
against the ground, using his ears by way of handles. My indignation
knew no bounds when I was pulled off by the bystanders, and told to let
my enemy stand up again. 'Stand up!' I cried, 'After all the trouble
I've had to get the fellow down.'" [39]
Of the various countries he knew, Burton hated England most. Would he
ever, he asked see again his "Dear France." And then Fate, who revels in
irony, must needs set him to learn as a school task, of all the poems in
English, Goldsmith's Traveller! So the wretched boy, cursing England in
his heart, scowling and taking it out of Goldsmith by daubing his pages
with ink, sat mumbling:
"Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam
His first, best country ever is at home." [40]
By and by, to Burton's extravagant joy--and he always intemperately
loved change--measles broke out in the school, the pupils were
dispersed, and Colonel Burton, tired of Richmond, resolved to make again
for the continent. As tutor for his boys he hired an ox-like man "with a
head the shape of a pear, smaller end uppermost"--the Rev. H. R. Du
Pre afterwards rector of Shellingford; and Maria was put in charge of a
peony-faced lady named Miss Ruxton. The boys hurrahed vociferously when
they left what they called wretched little England; but subsequently
Richard held that his having been educated abroad was an incalculable
loss to him. He said the more English boys are, "even to the cut of
their hair," the better their chances in life. Moreover, that it is a
real advantage to belong to some parish. "It is a great thing when you
have won a battle, or explored Central Africa, to be welcomed home
by some little corner of the great world, which takes a pride in your
exploits, because they reflect honour on itself." [41] An English
education might have brought Burton more wealth, but for the wild and
adventurous life before him no possible training could have been better
than the varied and desultory one he had. Nor could there have been a
more suitable preparation for the great linguist and anthropologist.
From babyhood he mixed with men of many nations.
5. The Continent Again.
At first the family settled at Blois, where Colonel and Mrs. Burton gave
themselves over to the excitement of dressing three or four times a day;
and, as there was nothing whatever the matter with them, passed many
hours in feeling each other's pulses, looking at each other's tongues,
and doctoring each other. Richard and Edward devoted themselves to
fending and swimming. If the three children were wild in England they
were double wild at Blois. Pear-headed Mr. Du Pre stuck tenaciously to
his work, but Miss Ruxton gave up in despair and returned to England.
At a dancing party the boys learnt what it was to fall in love. Richard
adored an extremely tall young woman named Miss Donovan, "whose face
was truly celestial--being so far up" but she was unkind, and did not
encourage him.
After a year at Blois, Colonel and Mrs. Burton, who had at last
succeeded in persuading themselves that they were really invalids,
resolved to go in search of a more genial climate. Out came the
cumbersome old yellow chariot again, and in this and a chaise drawn
by an ugly beast called Dobbin, the family, with Colonel Burton's
blowpipes, retorts and other "notions," as his son put it, proceeded by
easy stages to Marseilles, whence chariot, chaise, horse and family were
shipped to Leghorn, and a few days later they found themselves at Pisa.
The boys became proficient in Italian and drawing, but it was not until
middle life that Richard's writing developed into that gossamer hand
which so long distinguished it. Both had a talent for music, but when
"a thing like Paganini, length without breadth" was introduced, and they
were ordered to learn the violin, Richard rebelled, flew into a towering
rage and broke his instrument on his master's head. Edward, however,
threw his whole soul into the work and became one of the finest amateur
violinists of his day. Edward, indeed, was the Greek of the family,
standing for music and song as well as for muscle. He had the finely
chiselled profile and the straight nose that characterises the faces on
Attic coins. Richard, though without the Roman features, was more of the
ancient Roman type of character: severe, doggedly brave, utilitarian;
and he was of considerably larger mould than his brother. In July 1832,
the family stayed at Siena and later at Perugia, where they visited
the tomb of Pietro Aretino. At Florence, the boys, having induced their
sister to lend them her pocket money, laid it out in a case of pistols;
while their mother went in daily terror lest they should kill each
other. The worst they did, however, was to put a bullet through a very
good hat which belonged to Mr. Du Pre. When their mother begged them not
to read Lord Chesterfield's Letters to a Son, concerning the morality of
which she had doubts, they dutifully complied and surrendered themselves
piously, and without a murmur, to the chaste pages of Paul de Kock. They
did not, however, neglect the art treasures of Florence; and at
Rome, their next stopping-place, they sauntered about with Baedeker's
predecessor, "Mrs. Starke," and peered into earthly churches and
flower-illumined ruins. Later the family journeyed to Naples, where
the boys continued their studies under Mr. Du Pre. As a clergyman, this
gentleman steadily inculcated in his pupils the beautiful principles of
the Christian religion, and took a sincere and lively interest in their
favourite pastime of cock-fighting.
Colonel Burton continued his chemical studies, and in an evil hour for
the family, purchased a copy of the quaint text book by S. Parkes:
"A Chemical Catechism... with copious notes... to which are added a
Vocabulary and a Chapter of Amusing Experiments." [42] And very amusing
they were when Colonel Burton made them. Having studied the book
closely, including the "poetry" with which it is studded, he
manufactured, at vast expense, a few cakes of a nasty-looking and
evil-smelling substance, which, he said, was soap, and ought to be put
on the market. Mrs. Burton intimated that he might put it on the market
or anywhere else as long as he did not make any more. He next, by the
aid of the same manual, prepared a mixture which he called citric acid,
though any other name would have suited it equally well; and of this, as
neither he nor anybody else had any use for it, he daily produced
large quantities. From Naples the family moved to Sorrento, where S'or
Riccardo and S'or Edwardo, as the Italians called them, surrendered
themselves to the natural and legendary influences of the neighbourhood
and to reading. The promontory on which Sorrento stands is barren
enough, but southward rise pleasant cliffs viridescent with samphire,
and beyond them purple hills dotted with white spots of houses. At no
great distance, though hidden from view, stood the classic Paestum, with
its temple to Neptune; and nothing was easier than to imagine, on his
native sea as it were, the shell-borne ocean-god and old Triton blowing
his wreathed horn. Capri, the retreat of Tiberius, was of easy access.
Eastward swept a land of myrtle and lemon orchards. While the elder
Burton was immersed in the melodious Parkes, who sang about "Oxygen,
abandoning the mass," and changing "into gas," his sons played the parts
of Anacreon and Ovid, they crowned their heads with garlands and drank
wine like Anacreon, not omitting the libation, and called to mind the
Ovid of well-nigh two thousand years previous, and his roses of Paestum.
From poetry they turned once more to pistols, again brought their
mother's heart to her mouth, and became generally ungovernable. A visit
to a house of poor reputation having been discovered, their father and
Mr. Du Pre set upon them with horsewhips, whereupon the graceless but
agile youths ran to a neighbouring house and swarmed to the top of a
stack of chimneys, whence partly by word and partly by gesticulation
they arranged terms of peace.
In 1836, the Burtons left for Pau in the South of France; and while
there Richard lost his heart to the daughter of a French baron.
Unfortunately, however, she had to go away to be married; and Richard
who loved her to desperation, wept bitterly, partly because he was to
lose her and partly because she didn't weep too. Edward and the young
lady's sister, who also understood each other, fared no better, for
Colonel Burton having got tired of Pau, the whole family had to return
to Italy. At Pisa "S'or Riccardo" and "S'or Edwardo" again "cocked their
hats and loved the ladies," Riccardo's choice being a slim, soft,
dark beauty named Caterina, Edwardo's her sister Antonia. Proposals
of marriage were made and accepted, but adieux had soon to follow, for
Colonel Burton now moved to Lucca. All four lovers gave way to tears,
and Richard was so wrung with grief that he did not become engaged
again for over a fortnight. At Lucca the precious pair ruffled it with
a number of dissolute medical students, who taught them several quite
original wickednesses. They went, however, with their parents, into more
wholesome society; and were introduced to Louis Desanges, the battle
painter, Miss Helen Croly, daughter of the author of Salathiel, and
Miss Virginia Gabriel (daughter of General, generally called Archangel
Gabriel) the lady who afterwards attained fame as a musical composer
[43] and became, as we have recently discovered, one of the friends of
Walter Pater. Says Burton "she showed her savoir faire at the earliest
age. At a ball given to the Prince, all appeared in their finest
dresses, and richest jewellery. Miss Virginia was in white, with a
single necklace of pink coral." They danced till daybreak, when Miss
Virginia "was like a rose among faded dahlias and sunflowers."
Here, as everywhere, there was more pistol practice, and the boys plumed
themselves on having discovered a new vice--that of opium-eating,
while their father made the house unendurable by the preparation
of sulphuretted hydrogen and other highly-scented compounds. It was
recognised, however, that these chemical experiments had at least
the advantage of keeping Colonel Burton employed, and consequently of
allowing everybody a little breathing time at each stopping-place. In
the spring of 1840, Colonel Burton, Mr. Du Pre and the lads set out for
Schinznach, in Switzerland, to drink the waters; and then the family
returned to England in order that Richard and Edward might have a
university education. Their father, although not quite certain as to
their future, thought they were most adapted for holy orders. Their
deportment was perfect, the ladies admired them, and their worst
enemies, it seems, had never accused them of being "unorthodox in their
views." Indeed, Mrs. Burton already pictured them mitred and croziered.
For a few weeks the budding bishops stayed with "Grandmama Baker," who
with "Aunt Sarah" and "Aunt Georgiana," and Aunt Sarah's daughters,
Sarah and Elisa, was summering at Hampstead; and filled up the
time, which hung heavy on their hands, with gambling, drinking and
love-making.