Bibliography (Posthumous works):
81. Morocco and the Moors, by Henry Leared, edited by Burton. 1891. 82.
Il Pentamerone, published 1893. 83. The Kasidah (100 copies only). 1894.
[Note.--In 1900 an edition of 250 copies appeared].
177. Lady Burton in England.
By the new year Lady Burton had completed all her arrangements. The
swarms of servants and parasites which her good nature had attracted
to her had been paid, or thrown, off; and the books and the mutilated
manuscripts packed up. Every day she had visited her "beloved in the
chapelle ardente." "I never rested," she says, "and it was a life of
torture. I used to wake at four, the hour he was taken ill, and go
through all the horrors of his three hours' illness until seven."
On January 20th, Burton's remains were taken to England by the steamer
"Palmyra." Lady Burton then walked round and round to every room,
recalling all her life in that happy home and all the painful events
that had so recently taken place. She gazed pensively and sadly at the
beautiful views from the windows and went "into every nook and cranny of
the garden." The very walls seemed to mourn with her.
On arriving in England on February 9th her first concern was to call
on Lady Stisted and Miss Stisted, in order to "acquaint them with the
circumstances of her husband's death and her intentions." The meeting
was a painful one both to them and to her. They plainly expressed their
disapproval of the scenes that had been enacted in the death chamber and
at the funerals at Trieste; and they declared that as Protestants they
could not countenance any additional ceremonial of a like nature. Lady
Burton next visited Ilkeston, in Derbyshire, where she had implored
"Our Lady of Dale" to bring about her husband's conversion. Entering
the Catholic Church there, she knelt before the altar and cried "Here
I asked! Here I obtained! Our Lady of Dale, deliver his soul from
Purgatory!" [671]
Burton's remains arrived--by "long sea"--in England on February 12th
(1891) and were placed temporarily in the crypt of the Catholic Church
at Mortlake; and Lady Burton then devoted the whole of her time to
arranging for a public funeral in England.
To Mrs. E. J. Burton she wrote (23rd March 1891): "You must have thought
me so ungrateful for not answering your sweet letter of five months
ago, but, indeed, I have felt it deeply. Losing the man who had been my
earthly God for thirty-five years, was like a blow on the head, and for
a long time I was completely stunned." [672]
178. The Funeral at Mortlake, 15th June 1891.
The sum of L700 having been raised by Burton's admirers, a mausoleum,
made of dark Forest of Dean stone and white Carrara marble, and shaped
like an Arab tent, was erected in the Catholic Cemetery at Mortlake.
Over the door is an open book inscribed with the names of Sir Richard
and Lady Burton, and below the book runs a ribbon with the words "This
monument is erected to his memory by his loving countrymen." Among those
present at the funeral were Major St. George Burton, Dr. E. J. Burton,
Mr. Mostyn Pryce, Lord Arundell, Mr. Gerald Arundell, Lord Gerard, Lord
Northbrook, Mr. Van Zeller, Dr. Baker, Dr. Leslie, Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot,
Commander Cameron, and Mr. Justin Huntley McCarthy; and Canon Wenham
officiated.
The coffin was laid in the middle of the church upon trestles, which
were covered by "a cramoisie velvet pall." Tall silver candlesticks
with wax candles surrounded it. An unseen choir sang solemn chants. Lady
Burton, "a pathetic picture of prayerful sorrow," occupied a prie-dieu
at the coffin's side. When the procession filed out priests perfumed
the coffin with incense and sprinkled it with holy water, acolytes bore
aloft their flambeaux, and the choir, now seen to be robed in black,
sang epicedial hymns. The service had all been conducted in Latin, but
at this point Canon Wenham, turning to the coffin, said in English,
"with a smile and a voice full of emotion, [673] 'Enter now into
Paradise.'"
Lady Burton then laid on the coffin a bunch of forget-me-nots, and said,
"Here lies the best husband that ever lived, the best son, the best
brother, and the truest staunchest friend."
The bystanders were moved according to their temperaments and religious
views, but all were touched by the tempestuousness of Lady Burton's
grief. She seemed as "one of the Eumenides." To some the pomp and scenic
effects were gratifying. Others were affected by the reflection that the
great traveller, after roaming through almost every known land, had at
last been laid in a quiet nook in an English graveyard. Others who were
familiar with Burton's religious views considered "the whole ceremony an
impertinence." All, however, whatever their opinions, were united in the
desire to honour the great Englishman whose motto had been "Honour not
Honours." So at last, after four funerals, Sir Richard Burton was left
in peace.
The interior of the tomb remains much as it did on that day. Facing
the entrance is an altar with pictures, vases and the other customary
appurtenances. Sir Richard's sarcophagus lies to one's left, and on the
right has since been placed the coffin of Lady Burton, while over all
hang ropes of camel bells, which when struck give out the old metallic
sound that Sir Richard heard so often in the desert.
The ceremony over, Lady Burton went to spend ten days in the convent of
the canonesses of the Holy Sepulchre at Chelmsford--"my convent," as she
called it, because she was educated there. She then hired longing at No.
5, Baker Street, London, until a house--No. 67--in the same street could
be made ready for her. By the kindness of Queen Victoria she was allowed
a pension of L150 a year.
179. The Scented Garden Storm, June 1891.
In the meantime, the fifteen hundred subscribers to The Scented Garden
kept writing to Lady Burton to ask when the promised work was to be in
their hands. As she could not possibly reply to so many persons, and
as the nature of some of the letters cast her into a state of wild
perturbation, there seemed only one course open to her--namely, to write
to the press. So she sent to The Morning Post the well-known letter
which appeared 19th June, 1891, mentioning some of her reasons for
destroying the manuscript, the principal being her belief that out of
fifteen hundred men, fifteen would probably read it in the spirit
of science in which it was written, the other fourteen hundred and
eighty-five would read it "for filth's sake." The principal cause, the
apparition of her husband, she did not mention. [674]
The letter in The Morning Post had no sooner appeared than a cry
arose against her from one end of the country to the other. The Press
castigated her, private persons expressed their indignation by post.
Burton's family in particular bitterly resented what they considered a
"foolish, mad act, insulting alike to the dead and the living."
Lady Burton then wrote a second letter, which she sent to The Echo. She
said that if Burton had lived "he would have been perfectly justified in
carrying out his work. He would have been surrounded by friends to whom
he could have explained any objections or controversies, and would have
done everything to guard against the incalculable harm of his purchasers
lending it to their women friends and to their boyish acquaintances,
which I could not guarantee.... My husband did no wrong, he had a high
purpose [675] and he thought no evil of printing it, and could one have
secured the one per cent. of individuals to whom it would have been
merely a study, it would probably have done no harm." Later she made
some further defence in the New Review.
The opinions of Burton's friends and intimate acquaintances on the
matter were as follows: Mr. Payne and Mr. Watts-Dunton [676] thought
that Lady Burton did quite rightly, considering the circumstances, in
destroying the work. Mr. W.F. Kirby thought that, though from her own
point of view she was justified in so doing, she would have done better
to present it to the College of Surgeons, where it would have been quite
harmless and might have been consulted by bona-fide students.
Mr. Arbuthnot considered that in fulfilment of Burton's promise it
should have been given to him. He would, of course, have published it
as a volume of the Kama Shastra Society, taking the usual precautions to
prevent it from falling into unsuitable hands.