Bibliography:
14. First Footsteps in East Africa, 1856.
34. The Crimea.
Owing to his wounds Burton had to return to England, and, on his first
opportunity, he gave an account of his explorations before the Royal
Geographical Society. Little, however, was now talked of except the
Crimean War, which had commenced, it will be remembered in March 1854.
The Allies landed in the Crimea in September, Inkermann was fought on
the 5th of November, and then followed the tedious siege of Sebastopol.
Burton had not long been home before he applied for and obtained leave
to join the besieging army; and his brother Edward also went out as
surgeon, about the same time. Emulous of the deeds of Napier and Outram,
Burton now thought he saw a career of military glory awaiting him. Soon
after his arrival at the seat of war he was appointed chief of the staff
to General Beatson, and in his "gorgeous uniform blazing with gold"
he set vigorously to work to re-organize and drill his contingent of
Bashi-Bazouks. He had great difficulties with Beatson, a brave, but
passionate and undiplomatic old warrior; but he succeeded marvellously
with his men, and his hope of winning fame rose higher than ever. The
war, however, was crawling to an end, and the troops he had drilled
so patiently had little to do beside look on. At this conjuncture he
thought he saw a road to success in the relief of Kars, which had been
persistently besieged by the Russians. Elated at the prospect of taking
part in a great military feat, he hurried to Constantinople, obtained an
interview with the British Ambassador, Lord Stratford, and submitted
a plan for approval. To his amazement, Lord Stratford broke into a
towering passion, and called him "the most impudent man in the Bombay
Army." Later Burton understood in what way he had transgressed. As the
war was closing, it had been arranged by the Allies that Kars should be
allowed to fall as a peace offering to Russia.
Burton now began to suffer from the untrue tales that were told about
him, still he never troubled to disprove them. Some were circulated by
a fellow officer of his--an unmitigated scoundrel whose life had been
sullied by every species of vice; who not only invented calumniating
stories but inserted particulars that gave them a verisimilitude. Two of
this man's misdeeds may be mentioned. First he robbed the Post Office
at Alexandria, and later he unblushingly unfolded to Lord Stanley of
Alderley his plan of marrying an heiress and of divorcing her some
months later with a view to keeping, under a Greek law, a large portion
of her income. He seemed so certain of being able to do it that Lord
Stanley consulted a lady friend, and the two together succeeded in
frustrating the infamous design. This sordid and callous rascal tried
hard to lead people to suppose that he and Burton were hand and glove in
various kinds of devilry, and a favourite phrase in his mouth was "I and
Burton are great scamps." Percy Smythe [161] then an official under Lord
Stratford, commented on hearing the saying: "No, that won't do, ---- is
a real scamp, but Burton is only wild." One story put abroad apparently
by the same scoundrel is still in circulation. We are told that Burton
was once caught in a Turkish harem, and allowed to escape only after
suffering the usual indescribable penalty. As this was the solitary
story that really annoyed Burton, we think it our duty to say that
conclusive documentary evidence exists proving that, whether or not he
ever broke into a harem, he most certainly underwent no deprivation.
Other slanders of an even more offensive nature got abroad. Pious
English mothers loathed Burton's name, and even men of the world
mentioned it apologetically. In time, it is true, he lived all this
down, still he was never--he is not now--generally regarded as a saint
worthy of canonization.
With the suspension of General Beatson--for the machinations of enemies
ultimately accomplished the old hero's fall--Burton's connection with
the Crimean army abruptly ceased. Having sent in his resignation,
he returned to England and arrived here just in time to miss, to his
disappointment, his brother Edward, who had again left for Ceylon.
Edward's after career was sad enough to draw tears from adamant. During
an elephant hunt a number of natives set upon him and beat him brutally
about the head. Brain trouble ensued, and he returned home, but
henceforth, though he attained a green old age, he lived a life of utter
silence. Except on one solitary occasion he never after--and that is to
say for forty years--uttered a single word. Always resembling a Greek
statue, there was now added to him the characteristic of all statues,
rigid and solemn silence. From a man he had become aching marble. To
Burton, with his great, warm, affectionate heart, Edward's affliction
was an unceasing grief. In all his letters he enquires tenderly after
his "dear brother," and could truly say, with the enemy of his boyhood,
Oliver Goldsmith:
"Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled fondly turns to thee:
Still to my Brother turns." [162]
Arrived in England, General Beatson promptly instituted civil
proceedings against his enemies; and Burton was in constant expectation
of being subpoenaed. He thoroughly sympathized with Beatson, but he had
no wish to be forced to remain in London, just as he had no wish at
any time in his life to be mewed up anywhere. Consequently he disguised
himself by wearing green spectacles and tying a pillow over his stomach
to simulate corpulence. To one friend who met him, he made himself
known. "Are you really Burton?" inquired his friend. "I shall be,"
replied Burton, "but just now I'm a Greek doctor." Burton's conscience,
however, finally had the mastery. He did attend the trial and he
corroborated the statements of his late chief. The verdict of the jury
went against Beatson, but it was generally felt that the old war dog had
fully vindicated his character.
35. Engaged to Isabel Arundell, August 1856.
In August, after a lapse of four years, Burton renewed acquaintance
with Isabel Arundell, who one day met him, quite by accident, in the
Botanical Gardens, and she kept meeting him there quite by accident
every day for a fortnight. He had carried his life in his hand to
Mecca and to Harar, he had kept at bay 200 Somalis, but like the man in
Camoens, he finally fell by "a pair of eyes." [163] According to Lady
Burton, [164] it was Burton who made the actual proposal; and it is just
possible.
"You won't chalk up 'Mother will be angry' now I hope," said Burton.
"Perhaps not," replied Miss Arundell, "but she will be all the same."
Mrs. Arundell, indeed, like so many other English mothers, was violently
prejudiced against Burton. When her daughter broached the subject
she replied fiercely: "He is not an old English Catholic, or even a
Catholic, he has neither money nor prospects." She might also have added
that he was apt to respect mere men of intellect more than men of wealth
and rank, an un-English trait which would be sure to militate against
his advancement.
Miss Arundell bravely defended her lover, but without effect. A few days
later she again met her old gipsy crone Hagar Burton, who repeated her
sibylline declaration. As Miss Arundell never, by any chance, talked
about anything or anybody except Burton, and as she paid liberally for
consulting the Fates, this declaration necessarily points to peculiar
acumen on the part of the gipsy.
At one of their meetings Miss Arundell put round Burton's neck a steel
chain with a medal of the Virgin Mary and begged him to wear it all his
life. Possessing a very accommodating temperament in matters that
seemed to himself of no vital importance, he consented; so it joined the
star-sapphire and other amulets, holy and unholy, which, for different
purposes, he carried about the world.
That this medal had often acted as a preservative to Burton she was in
after life thoroughly convinced.