never going out anywhere except on business or to church, never
accepting an invitation or paying visits; but about this time she
gradually came out of her seclusion, and began to collect around her
a small circle of near relatives and friends. Always fond of society,
though she had now abjured it in a general sense, she could not live
alone, so in addition to the companionship of her favourite sister
Mrs. Fitzgerald, who lived with her and shared all her thoughts, she
widened her circle a little and received a few friends. She was fond
of entertaining, and gave many little informal gatherings, which
were memorable from the grace and charm of the hostess. Lady Burton
was always a picturesque and fascinating personality, but never more
so than in these last years of her life. She possessed a fine and
handsome presence, which was rendered even more effective by her plain
black dress and widow’s cap, with its long white veil which formed
an effective background to her finely cut features. She reminded
me of some of the pictures one sees of Mary Stuart. I do not think
the resemblance ceased altogether with her personal appearance, for
her manners were always queenly and gracious; and when she became
interested in anything, her face would light up and her blue eyes
would brighten, and one could see something of the courage and spirit
which she shared in common with the ill-fated queen. She was a most
accomplished woman and a clever linguist. She could write and speak
fluently French, Italian, Arabic, and Portuguese. German she knew also,
though not so well, and she had more than a smattering of Yiddish.
She was well-read in the literature of all these (save Yiddish, of
course), yet never was a woman less of a “blue-stocking.” She was a
brilliant talker, full of wit and charm in her conversation, and there
was nothing she liked better than to relate, in her inimitable way,
some of her many adventures in the past. In fact, though singularly
well-informed on all the current questions of the hour, one could see
that her heart was ever in the past, and her thoughts seldom strayed
far from her husband. Thus it came about, after his death as in his
life, she devoted herself wholly to glorifying his name, and I do
not think it is any disparagement to Sir Richard Burton to say that
his personality would never have impressed itself upon the public
imagination in the way it did, if it had not been for the efforts of
his wife.
In the summer of this year Lady Burton went to Ventnor, and also paid
a few visits, and in the autumn she stayed at Ascot with her sister
Mrs. Van Zeller, whose husband had just died. In November she went to
Mortlake, where she settled down in earnest to write the biography of
her husband, a work which occupied her eight months. When once she
began, she worked at it morning, noon, and night, from early till late,
and except for a flying visit to Baker Street for Christmas, she never
ceased her labours until the book was finished at the end of March,
1893. She wrote to a friend at this time:
“I finished the book last night, and have never left Mortlake. It has
taken me eight months. I hope it will be out the end of May. I do not
know if I can harden my heart against the curs,[52] but I can put out
my tongue and point my pen and play pussy cat about their eyes and
ears. I am to have six months’ rest, but you know what that means.”[53]
Lady Burton received a substantial sum from the publishers for the
book, and it was published in May. The success which it achieved was
immediate and unqualified, and, what is more, deserved, for with all
its faults it is a great book--the last great work in the life of
the woman who never thought of self, and her supreme achievement to
raise aloft her husband’s name. Its success was very grateful to Lady
Burton’s heart, not on her own account, but her husband’s; in fact, it
may be said to have gilded with brightness the last years of her life.
She felt now that her work was done and that nothing remained. She
wrote to a friend early in the New Year (1894)[54]:
“I have had my head quite turned by the great success of my book. First
came about a hundred half-nasty, or wholly nasty, critiques; then
the book made its way. I had three leading articles, over a thousand
charming reviews, and have been inundated with the loveliest letters
and invitations.... With my earnings I am embellishing his mausoleum,
and am putting up in honour of his poem, _Kasidah_, festoons of
camel bells from the desert, in the roof of the tent where he lies, so
that when I open or shut the door, or at the elevation of the Mass,
the ‘tinkling of the camel bell’ will sound just as it does in the
desert. On January 22 I am going down to pass the day in it, because it
is my thirty-third wedding day, and the bells will ring for the first
time. I am also carrying out all his favourite projects, and bringing
out by degrees all his works hitherto published or unpublished, as of
the former only small quantities were published, and these are mostly
extinct. If God gives me two years, I shall be content. I live in my
little _chaumière_ near the mausoleum on the banks of the Thames
for the six good months of the year, and in my warm dry home in London
six bad months, with my sister. You cannot think how the picture of
Richard by you was admired at the Grosvenor Gallery, and I put your
name over it. I have now got it home again, and I thought he smiled
as I brought him back in the cab for joy to get home.... There is a
great wax-work exhibition in England which is very beautifully done
(Tussaud’s). They have now put Richard in the Meccan dress he wore in
the desert. They have given him a large space with sand, water, palms,
and three camels, and a domed skylight, painted yellow, throws a lurid
light on the scene. It is quite life-like. I gave them the real clothes
and the real weapons, and dressed him myself. When it was offered to
him during his life, his face beamed, and he said, ‘That will bring me
in contact with the people.’”
The other works of Sir Richard’s which Lady Burton brought out
after the Life of her husband included _Il Pentamerone_ and
_Catullus_. She also arranged for a new edition of his _Arabian
Nights_, and she began what she called the “Memorial Library,” which
was mainly composed of the republication of half-forgotten books which
he had written in the days before he became famous. She also recalled,
at great pecuniary sacrifice to herself, another work which she thought
was doing harm to his memory, and destroyed the copies.
Upon the publication of the Life of her husband, Lady Burton was
overwhelmed with letters from old acquaintances who had half-forgotten
her, from tried and trusted friends of her husband and herself,
and from people whom she had never known, but who were struck by
the magnitude of her self-sacrificing love. All these letters were
pleasant. But she also received a number of letters of a very doubtful
nature, which included begging letters and applications requesting
to see her from quacks and charlatans of different kinds, who by
professing great admiration for her husband, and veneration for his
memory, thought they would find in Lady Burton an easy prey. In this
they were mistaken. Although generous and open-hearted as the day, she
always found out charlatans in the long run. She used to say she “liked
to give them rope enough.” Unfortunately, though, it must be admitted
that Lady Burton had the defects of her qualities. Absolutely truthful
herself, she was the last in the world to suspect double-dealing
in others, and the result was that she sometimes misplaced her
confidence, and put her trust in the wrong people. This led her into
difficulties which she would otherwise have avoided.
The publication of the Life of her husband seemed also to arouse a
number of dormant animosities, and it led, among other things, to a
large increase in the number of abusive and insulting letters which she
received from anonymous writers, chiefly with regard to her burning
of _The Scented Garden_. They gave her great pain and annoyance.
But many approved of her action, and among others who wrote to her a
generous letter of sympathy was Lady Guendolen Ramsden, the daughter of
her old friends the Duke and Duchess of Somerset. I give Lady Burton’s
reply because it shows how much she appreciated the kindness of her
friends:
“_October 31, 1893._
“MY DEAR LADY GUENDOLEN,
“I cannot tell you what pleasure your very kind letter gave me.
I feared that you and all your family had forgotten me long ago.
I was, and so was Richard, very much attached to the Duke and
Duchess; they always made us welcome, they always made us feel
at home. I delighted in the Duke--so clever, so fascinating, and
he was my _beau idéal_ of a gentleman of the Old School,
whilst the kindness of heart, the high breeding, and the wit of
the Duchess attached us both greatly to her. You were such a
very young girl that I knew you the least, and yet you are the
one to be kind to me now. The ones I knew best were poor Lord
St. Maur and Lady Ulrica. Let me now thank you for speaking so
truly and handsomely of my dear husband, and your kindness and
sympathy with me and my work. It is quite true! If you knew
what a small section of people have made me suffer, and the
horrible letters that they have written me, you would feel sorry
to think that there were such people in the world, and when I
reflect that it was that class of people who would have received
the manuscript with joy, I know how right I was to burn it. It
was not the _learned_ people, as you imagine, who regret
this, because there was no learning to be gained in it. My dear
husband did it simply to fill our purse again. The people who
were angry were the people who loathe good, and seek for nothing
but that class of literature. My husband had no vicious motive
in writing it; he dissected these things as a doctor would a
body. I was calculating what effect it would have on the mass
of uneducated people who _might_ read it. I did receive
many beautiful letters on the subject, and the papers have
more or less never let me drop, but often much blame. I was so
astonished to find myself either praised or blamed; it seemed
to me the natural thing for a woman to do; but I see now how
mistaken I was to have confessed it, and to imagine it was my
duty to confess, which I certainly did. I know that he, being
dead, would not have wished it published; if so, why did he
leave it to me?... You are quite right; it has pleased me more
than I can say that you should approve and confirm my ideas, and
I am so thankful that the Life has succeeded. I got my best
reward in a review which said that ‘Richard Burton’s widow might
comfort herself, as England now knew the man inside and out,
that she had lifted every cloud from his memory, and his fame
would shine as a beacon in all future ages.’ I remember so well
the party at Lady Margaret Beaumont’s. I can shut my eyes and
see the whole dinner-table; we were twenty-five in party. And I
remember well also the party at Bulstrode. If I am alive in the
summer, I shall be only too glad to pass a few days with you at
Bulstrode, if you will let me. I feel that a talk to you would
carry me back to my happy days.
“Believe me, with warmest thanks,
“Yours sincerely,
“ISABEL BURTON.”
After the publication of the Life of her husband Lady Burton spent most
of her time at Baker Street, with intervals at Mortlake, and a few
visits to friends, including Lady Windsor, Lord Arundell of Wardour,
Lady Guendolen Ramsden at Bulstrode, and Canon Waterton at Carlisle.
The year which followed (1894) may be said to have been her last active
year, and it was the pleasantest year of her life in England. The
success which had attended her book had brought her more into contact
with the world than she had been at any time since her husband’s death,
and she saw that there was a field of usefulness still before her. This
was the year in which she saw most friends, entertained most, and went
about most. Her health, never good, seemed to rally, and she was far
less nervous than usual. She may be said about this time to have taken
almost to literature as a profession, for she worked at it eight hours
every day, in addition to keeping up a large correspondence, chiefly on
literary and business matters. She went frequently to the play, got all
the new books, and kept herself well in touch with the current thought
of the day. She was not in sympathy with a good deal of it, and her way
of expressing her opinions was delightfully frank and original. Despite
her abiding sense of her loss, there was nothing morbid about Lady
Burton. She was bright and cheerful, full of interest in things, and
perfectly happy in the society of her dearly loved sister.
I think that here one might mention a few characteristics of Lady
Burton. She was always very generous, but her generosity was not of the
kind which would commend itself to the Charity Organization Society.
For instance, she had an incurable propensity of giving away to beggars
in the street. She never let one go. The result was that she frequently
returned home with an empty purse; indeed, so aware was she of her
weakness, she took out little money with her as a rule, so that she
might not be tempted too far. When people remonstrated with her on
this indiscriminate almsgiving, she used to say, “I would rather give
to ten rogues than turn one honest man away; I should be amply repaid
if there were one fairly good one amongst them.” She was very fond of
children--that is, _en bloc_; but she did not care to be troubled
with them at too close quarters. She often took out the poor children
of the Roman Catholic schools to treats on Wimbledon Common. She would
hire drags, and go up there for the afternoon with them. She never
forgot them at Christmas, and she would always set aside a day or two
for buying them toys. Her way of doing this was somewhat peculiar. She
had been so used to buying things of itinerant vendors in the streets
abroad that she could not break herself of the habit in England. So,
instead of going to a toy shop, she used to take a four-wheel cab, and
drive slowly down Oxford Street and Regent Street; and whenever she
came across a pedlar with toys on a tray, she would pull up her cab and
make her purchases. These purchases generally took a good deal of time,
for Lady Burton had been so much in the habit of dealing at bazars in
the East that she was always under the impression that the pedlars in
England asked double or treble what they really thought they would get.
The result was a good deal of bargaining between her and the vendors.
She used to make wholesale purchases; and during her bargaining,
which was carried on with much animation, a crowd assembled, and not
infrequently the younger members of it came in for a share of the
spoils.
To the day of her death she always felt strongly on the subject of
the prevention of cruelty to animals, and indeed engaged in a fierce
controversy with Father Vaughan on the subject of vivisection. She
was never tired of denouncing the “barbarism of bearing-reins,” and
so forth. When she went out in a cab, she invariably inspected the
horse carefully first, to see if it looked well fed and cared for; if
not, she discharged the cab and got another one, and she would always
impress upon the driver that he must not beat his horse under any
consideration when he was driving her. She would then get into the cab,
let the window down, and keep a watch. If the driver forgot himself so
far as to give a flick with his whip, Lady Burton would lunge at him
with her umbrella from behind. Upon the cabby remonstrating at this
unlooked-for attack, she would retort, “Yes, and how do you like it?”
On one occasion though she was not consistent. She took a cab with her
sister from Charing Cross Station, and was in a great hurry to get
home. Of course she impressed as usual upon the Jehu that he was not to
beat his horse. The horse, which was a wretched old screw, refused, in
consequence, to go at more than a walking pace; and as Lady Burton was
in a hurry to get back, and was fuming with impatience inside, she at
last forgot herself so far as to put her head out of the window and cry
to the driver, “Why don’t you beat him? Why don’t you make him go?”
In politics Lady Burton described herself as a progressive
Conservative, which, being interpreted, would seem to signify that,
though she was intensely conservative with regard to the things which
she had at heart, such as religion and the importance of upholding the
old _régime_, she was exceedingly progressive in smaller matters.
Her views on social questions especially were remarkably broad, and
it may safely be said that there never was a woman who had less
narrowness or bigotry in her composition. She was fond of saying, “Let
us hear all sides of the question, for that is the only way in which we
can hope to arrive at the truth.”
I should like to add a few words as to her spiritual life, because it
entered so profoundly into all that she said and did, that no record
of her would be complete which ignored it. We have seen how in every
crisis of her life, through all her perils, trials, and difficulties,
she turned instinctively to that Source where many look for strength
and some find it. Lady Burton was one of those who found it: though
all else might fail her, this consolation never failed. In her fervent
faith is to be found the occult force which enabled her to dare all
things, hope all things, endure all things. We may agree with her
religious views or not, but we are compelled to admit their power to
sustain her through life’s battle. The secret of her strength was
this: to her the things spiritual and invisible--which to many of us
are unreal, however loudly we may profess our belief in them--were
living realities. It is difficult for some of us perhaps, in this
material, sceptical world of ours, to realize a nature like hers. Yet
there are many such, and they form the strongest proof of the living
force of Christianity to-day. “Transcendental,” the world remarks,
with a sneer. But who is there among us who would not, an he could,
exchange uncertainty and unrest for the possession of a peace which the
world cannot give? There are some natures who _can_ believe, who
_can_ look forward to a prize so great and wonderful as to hold
the pain and trouble of the race of very small account when weighed
against the hope of victory. Lady Burton was one of these; she had her
feet firm set upon the everlasting Rock. The teaching of her Church was
to her divinest truth. The supernatural was real, the spiritual actual.
The conflict between the powers of light and the powers of darkness,
between good angels and evil angels, between benign influences and
malefic forces, was no figure of speech with her, but a reality. In
these last years of her life more especially the earthly veil seemed to
have fallen from her eyes. She seemed to have grasped something of the
vision of the servant of Elisha, for whom the prophet prayed: “_Lord,
I pray Thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the
eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full
of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha._”
Because of all this, because her religion was such an actuality
to her, is, I think, due half the misunderstandings which have
arisen with regard to Lady Burton’s attitude towards so-called
“spiritualism.” She always held that Catholicism was the highest form
of spiritualism--using the word in its highest meaning--and from this
attitude she never wavered. She had lived much in the East, and had
come much into contact with oriental occult influences, but what she
saw only served to convince her more of the truths of her religion.
Lady Burton was a Christian mystic, not in the vulgar sense of the
word, but only in the sense that many devout and religious women have
been Christian mystics too. Like Saint Catherine of Sienna, Saint
Teresa, and other holy women, she was specially attracted to the
spiritual and devotional aspect of the Catholic Faith. Neither did her
devotion to the spiritual element unfit her for the practical side of
things: quite the contrary. Like Saint Teresa, side by side with her
religious life, she was a remarkably shrewd woman of business. It need
scarcely be added that between so-called “spiritualism” as practised
in England and the Catholicism of Lady Burton there was a great gulf
fixed, and one which she proved to be unbridgeable. This lower form of
spiritualism, to use her own words, “can only act as a decoy to a crowd
of sensation-seekers, who yearn to see a ghost as they would go to see
a pantomime.” Such things she considered, when not absolutely farcical,
worked for evil, and not for good. As she wrote to a friend:
“That faculty you have about the spirits, though you may ignore it,
is the cause of your constant misfortunes. I have great experience
and knowledge in these matters. As soon as you are happy these demons
of envy, spite, and malicious intention attack you for evil ends, and
ruin your happiness to get hold of your body and soul. Never practise
or interest yourself in these matters, and debar them from your house
by prayer and absolute non-hearing or seeing them.... Do not treat my
words lightly, because I have had experience of it myself, and I had
untold misfortune until I did as I advise you. The more God loves you,
the more will this spirit hate and pursue you and want you for his own.
Drive him forth and resist him.... There is a spiritualism (I hate the
word!) that comes from God, but it does not come in this guise. This
sort is from the spirits of evil.”[55]
I have dwelt on this side of Lady Burton’s character in order to
contradict many foolish rumours. During the last years of her life
in England, when her health was failing, she was induced against
her better judgment to have some dealings with certain so-called
“spiritualists,” who approached her under the plea of “communicating”
with her husband, thus appealing to her at the least point of
resistance. Lady Burton told her sister that she wanted to see “if
there was anything in it,” and to compare it with the occultism of
the East. In the course of her inquiries she unfortunately signed
certain papers which contained ridiculous “revelations.” On thinking
the matter over subsequently, the absurdity of the thing struck her.
She came to the conclusion that there was nothing in it at all, and
that, as compared with the occultism of the East, this was mere
_kindergarten_. She then wished to recall the papers. She was very
ill at the time, and unable to write herself; but she mentioned the
matter to her sister at Eastbourne a short time before her death, and
said, “The first thing I do when I get back to London will be to recall
those silly papers.” She was most anxious to return to London for this
purpose; but the day after her return she died. Mrs. Fitzgerald at once
communicated Lady Burton’s dying wishes to the person in whose charge
the papers were, and requested that they should not be published. But
with a disregard alike for the wishes of the dead and the feelings of
the living, the person rushed some of these absurd “communications”
into print within a few weeks of Lady Burton’s death, and despite all
remonstrance was later proceeding to publish others, when stopped by a
threat of legal proceedings from the executors.
Early in 1895 Lady Burton was struck down with the prevailing epidemic
of influenza; and though she rallied a little after a month or two,
she never recovered. She was no longer able to walk up and down stairs
without assistance, or even across the room. Her decline set in rapidly
after this illness; for the influenza gave a fresh impetus to her
internal malady, which she knew must be fatal to her sooner or later.
She remained in Baker Street a sad invalid the first six months of the
year, and then she recovered sufficiently to be removed to Eastbourne
for a change. It was in July that I saw her last, just before she left
for Eastbourne. She asked me to come and see her. I went one Sunday
afternoon, and I was grieved to see the change which a few months had
worked in her. She was lying on a couch in an upper room. Her face was
of waxen whiteness, and her voice weak, but the brave, indomitable
spirit shone from her eyes still, and she talked cheerfully for a long
time about her literary labours and her plans and arrangements for some
time ahead.
At Eastbourne she took a cottage, and remained there from September,
1895, to March 21, 1896. It was evident to her sister and all around
her that she was fast failing; but whenever she was well enough she did
some work. At this time she had begun her autobiography. When she was
free from pain, she was always bright and cheerful, and enjoyed a joke
as much as ever.
Early in the New Year, 1897, she became rapidly worse, and her one wish
was to recover sufficiently to go home. One of the last letters she
ever wrote was to her friend Madame de Gutmansthal-Benvenuti:
“I never forget you, and I wish our thoughts were telephones. I am
very bad, and my one prayer is to be able to get home to London. The
doctor is going to remove me on the first possible day. I work every
moment I am free from pain. You will be glad to hear that I have had
permission from Rome for Mass and Communion in the house, which is a
great blessing to me. I have no strength to dictate more.”[56]
The second week in March Lady Burton rallied a little, and the doctor
thought her sufficiently well to be removed to London. She accordingly
travelled on March 21. She was moved on a bed into an invalid carriage,
and was accompanied by her sister, who never left her side, and the
doctor and a priest. She was very cheerful during the journey; and when
she got to Victoria, she said she felt so much better that she would
walk along the platform to the cab. Mrs. Fitzgerald got out first; but
on turning round to help her sister, she found that she had fainted.
The doctor administered restoratives; and when she had recovered a
little, she was carried to a cab, and driven to her house in Baker
Street.
Towards the evening she seemed better, and was glad to be back in her
familiar surroundings again. She kept saying to her sister, “Thank God,
I am at home again!” She had a haunting fear latterly at Eastbourne
that she would not have the strength to come home. By this time it was
of course known that she could not possibly recover, and the end would
only be a question of a little time. But that evening no one thought
that death was imminent. During the night, however, she grew worse.
The next morning (Passion Sunday, March 22) her sister saw a great
change in her. She asked her what she wished, and Lady Burton answered,
“It depends on you whether I receive the Last Sacraments.” The priest
was summoned at once, and administered Extreme Unction and the Holy
Viaticum. She followed all the prayers, and was conscious to the last.
When all was over, she bowed her head and whispered, “Thank God.” A
smile of peace and trusting came over her face, and with a faint sigh
she breathed her last. She had heard the “tinkling of his camel’s bell.”
[Illustration: THE ROOM IN WHICH LADY BURTON DIED.]
[Illustration: THE ARAB TENT AT MORTLAKE.]
* * * * *
She was buried in the little cemetery at Mortlake one bright spring
afternoon, when all Nature seemed waking from its winter sleep. She was
laid to rest in the Arab tent by the side of him whom she had loved so
dearly, there to sleep with the quiet dead until the great Resurrection
Day. She was buried with all the rites of her Church. The coffin was
taken down to Mort lake the evening before, and rested before the
altar in the little church all night. The next morning High Mass was
celebrated in the presence of her relatives and friends; and after
the Benediction, the procession, headed by the choir singing _In
Paradiso_, wound its way along the path to the mausoleum, where the
final ceremony took place. As the door was opened, the camel bells
began to tinkle, and they continued ringing throughout the ceremony.
They have never rung since. The door of the tent is now closed, and on
the opposite page of the marble book which sets forth the deeds and
renown of her husband are written these words only:
=Isabel his Wife.=
THE END.
INDEX
A
Abd el Kadir, 386, 396, 507
Acre, St. Jean d’, 489
Adelsberg Caves, the, 546
Aden, 74, 570
Alderley, Dowager Lady Stanley of, 747
Alexandria, 365, 621
Alford, Lady Marian, 529
Algiers, 694
Almack’s, fancy ball at, 26
Anthropological Society, dinner to Burton, 230
Anti-Lebanon, 371
Antioch, the Patriarch, Primate of, 432
Arneh, Druze wedding at, 453
Arundell, Blanche, 63, 88, 96, 556
---- Blanche Lady, 6, 439
---- Mr., death of, 684
---- Mrs., her opposition to Lady Burton’s marriage, 151;
her death, 530
Arundells of Wardour, family history, 1–10
Austria, Emperor and Empress of, 545;
the Court of, 545
Auvergne, Princess de la Tour d’, 361
Ayde, Sir John, 681
B
Ba’albak, 430
Bahia, 342
Balme, Col de, 127
Barbacena, 281
---- Vicomte and Vicomtesse, 259
Beaconsfield, Lord, 614, 621, 623
Beatson, General, 79
Beaumont, Lady Margaret, 760
Beg, Omar, 412
Beyrout, 367
Bird, Dr., 155, 166
---- Miss Alice, 166, 689
Bishop, Miss, 683, 695, 751, 755
Blanc, Mont, 124
Bludán, 427 _et seq._;
news of the recall, 499
Bologna, 639
Bombay, 73;
journey to, 554, 572;
the Towers of Silence, 586;
the Hindû Smáshán, 588
---- Government remove Burton’s name from Army List, 175
Boulogne, life at, 40 _et seq._, 555;
last visit to, 691
Brazil, 244 _et seq._
---- Emperor and Empress of, 259
British Association meeting at Bath, 1864, 228
Bull-fight at Lisbon, a, 233
Bülow, Madame von, 552
Burton, Captain St. George, 747
Byculla, races at, 576
C
Cameron, Captain Verney Lovett, 631, 635
Candahar, 624
Carnival at Venice, 114
Carthage, 694
Cazalem, 597, 599
Cenis, Mont, ascent of, 117
Chambord, Comte de (Henri V.), 113, 115, 610
Chamounix, 124
Chavannes, Comtesse de, 115
Cheron, Chevalier de St., 113
Chillon, 130
Citta Vecchia, 535
Clarendon, Lord, 352, 513, 623
Clifford, Isabel, 14
Constable, Sir Clifford and Lady, 157
Copsey, Mr. Charles, 284
Crawford, Rev. John, 522
Cruz, Santa, 198
D
Dahomé, King of, 226
Damascus, 372, 375
Dead Sea, 483
Derby, Lord, 230, 508, 623, 693;
and Lady, 746
Digby, Hon. Jane, El Mezráb, 393
---- Lord, 393, 395
Dublin, 229
Dudley, Georgina Lady, 545
E
Eastbourne, 768
Eldridge, Consul-General, 520
Ellenborough, Lady, 389, 393, 459, 507
Elliot, Sir Henry, 493, 522;
letter to Lady Burton, 516
Elphinstone Point, 593
Entre Rios, 275
Eu, Comte and Comtesse d’, 258
Extreme Unction, Sacrament of, administered to Sir Richard Burton,
702, 706
F
Fernando Po, 175
Fisherwomen of Boulogne, the, 44
Fitzgerald, Mrs., 15, 634, 746, 750, 753, 767, 769
Fiume, 546
Florence, 110, 544
Frankel, Rev. E. B., 522
Funchal, 189
Furze Hall, 17
G
Geneva, 120
Genoa, 102
Gerard, Elizabeth, 14
---- Lord, 8, 183, 355, 689
---- Monica Lady, 173
Germany, the Empress Frederick of, 545
Ghazis, the, 410
Ghazzeh, 636, 638
Gibraltar, 681
Giram, Cape, 193
Gladstone, Mr. W. E., 551
Goa, 594 _et seq._, 713
Gobat, Bishop, 481
Golconda, 585
Gordon, General, 644, 645;
letters from, 646 _et seq._;
his death at Kartoum, 644, 675
Gordon, Mr. and Mrs., 294
Gorizia, 610
Grant, Colonel, 740
Granville, Lord, 456, 465, 508, 516, 531, 532, 621;
his reasons for Burton’s recall, 520, 528
Grindlay’s fire, 178
Gutmansthal-Benvenuti, Mme. de, 696, 742, 755, 769
Gypsy forecast, a, 21
H
Hammerton, Colonel, 714
Harar in Somaliland, 73
Havre, 136
Hawthorne, General, 338
Hay, Sir J. D., 680
Henri V. (Comte de Chambord), 113, 115, 610
Honfleur, 137
Houghton, Lord, 177, 355, 551
Howard, Cardinal, 543
Hunt, Mr. Holman, 481
Hyderabad, 580;
the Nizam of, 580 _et seq._
I
Iceland, 529, 552
Ideal lover, the, 37
Ireland, a trip to, 229
Ismail, Khedive, and the Mines of Midian, 610 _et seq._, 621
Italy, Queen of, 558
J
Jaffa, 367, 470
James, Miss, 522
Jayrúd, 407
Jeddah, 563
Jerusalem, 471
Joly, Mrs. Francis, 767
Jowett, Professor, 551
Juiz de Fóra, 277
Jung, Sir Salar, 580
K
Karachi, 730
Karla Caves, 578
Karyatayn, 412
Kazeh, 143
Kebir, Amir el, 583
Kennedy, Mr., 466
L
Lagôa Dourada, 285
Laguna, 200
Lanauli, 578
Lausanne, 131
Layard, Sir Henry, 182
Lebanon, 370
---- Cedars of, 432
Lee, Dr., 284
Leghorn, 110
Leighton, Sir Frederick, 354, 376;
his picture of Sir Richard Burton, 551
Lentaigne, the convict philanthropist, 229
Leslie, Dr. Ralph, 688, 690
Lever, Charles, 530, 532, 580
Levis, Duc de, 115
Lido, the, 114
Lipizza, the Emperor of Austria’s stud farm at, 546
Lisbon, 231
Llandaff, Lord (Mr. Henry Matthews), 548
Lytton, Lord and Lady, 233, 624
M
Machico, 192
Madeira, 190
Máhábáleshwar, 591, 593, 594
Malta, 694
Marianna, 302
Marienbad, 631, 635
Martelani, Pietro, 709
Mátherán, 577
Mattei, Count, 639
Meade, Sir Richard, 585
Mecca, 69, 565, 713
Midian, the Mines of, 610, 621
Mijwal, Shaykh, 394
Milan, 558
Milnes, Monckton (Lord Houghton), 81, 179
Mitford, Mr., 468
Monson, Sir Edmund, 699
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 361
Montanvert, 125
Montreux, 692
Mormons, Burton’s book on the, 180
Morocco, 643, 680, 682, 685
Motto Velho, 295 _et seq._
Mortlake, Lady Burton’s cottage at, 752
---- Cemetery, 228;
burial of Sir Richard Burton, 746, 747;
burial of Lady Burton, 770
Mukhtára, 449
Murchison, Sir Roderick, 355
N
Napier, Sir Charles, 730
Napoleon, Louis, 396
---- some relics of, 181
Nazareth, 486;
the riot at, 487
Nevill, Major and Mrs., 580
New Hall (Convent), 17, 748
Nice, 100
Novikoff, Madame Olga, 631
O
Oberammergau, the Passion Play at, 623, 627
Opçina, 542;
ball at, 627
Orotava, 201
Ouchy, 131
“Ouida,” 537, 544
Ouro Branco, 328
---- Preto, 305
P
Paget, Sir Augustus and Lady, 543, 639
Palmer, Mr. E. H., 430
---- Professor, 636
Palmerston, Lord, 177
Palmyra, 403 _et seq._
Paris, 97;
after the Franco-German War, 556;
Lady Burton’s fall downstairs, 616
Pasarni Ghát, 592
Perrochel, Vicomte de, 414, 421
Perry, Sir William, 533
Persigny, Duchesse de, 383
Petropolis, 258, 273, 339
Pico Arriere, 193
Pigott, Mrs. Smyth, 96, 751
Pisa, 109
Poissardes, Carolina, “Queen” of the, 44, 58, 556
Poonah, 579, 592
Port Said, 561
Portugal, a trip to, 230
Procopio, Com. Mariano, 277
Prout, Colonel, 659
Q
Queen, the, makes Burton K.C.M.G., 682;
grants pension to Lady Burton, 747
R
Ralli, Baroness Paul de, 706, 709
Ramsden, Lady Guendolen, 758
Reclus, Elisée, 692
Richards, Mr. Alfred Bates, 605
Rio de Janeiro, 244
Riviera, the earthquake in the, 1887, 687
Rome, 544
Rosebery, Lord, 685, 687
Royal Geographical Society and Speke, 144
Russell, Lady John, 177
---- Lord John, 175, 227
S
Sabará, 315
Safed, 491
Salahíyyeh, 376, 454
Salisbury, Lord and Lady, 614, 623, 682, 685, 687;
letters from Lady Salisbury, 618, 622, 693
Santos, 230, 248
São João, 283
---- Paulo, 248
_Scented Garden, The_, 696, 698;
truth about, 719 _et seq._;
burning of, 726
Schwartzenburg, Prince, 393
Scott, Rev. J. Orr, 522
Seão, Senhor Nicolão, 334
Shazlis, the, 496, 521
Sitt Jumblatt, the, 449
Smith, Mr. W. H., 623;
letter from, 623
Somerset, Duke and Duchess of, 552, 758
Spain, Maria Theresa, ex-Queen of, 547
Speke, Lieut., 73, 140–144, 228, 355, 740
Spezzia, 107
Stafford, Lord, 468
Stanhope, Lady Hester, 361, 393, 426
Stanley, Lord, 230, 351
Stisted, Lady, 745
---- Miss, 393, 745;
her impeachment of Lady Burton, 510 _et seq._, 702, 736
Suez, 602, 612
Swinburne, Algernon, 354
Symmonds, Mr., 302
T
Tabút or Mūharram, Feast of, 575
Tanganyika, Lake, 142
Tangiers, 683
Teneriffe, 198 _et seq._;
the Peak of, 210
Thornton, Sir Edward and Lady, 247
Tiberias, Lake of, 491
Treloar, Captain, 301, 338
Trieste, 531, 535 _et seq._, 604 _et seq._, 616 _et seq._;
Burton a confirmed invalid, 689;
his death at, 700
Tunis, 694
Tupper, Martin, 619
Tyrwhitt-Drake, Mr. Charles, 473, 546, 547
U
Usagara Mountains, 141
V
Varden, Dr., 490
Vaughan, Cardinal, 709
Veldes, 630
Venice, 112, 533, 559;
Geographical Congress at, 631
Vevey, 130
Vienna, 544
W
Wahi, 592
Wales, the Prince of, 585, 687
Wali, the, 372, 391, 392;
his daughter’s wedding, 459, 464;
his dispute with Burton, 517
Warren, Sir Charles, 638
Waterton, Canon, 743, 760
Wikar Shums Ool Umárá, the, 582
Wilson, Miss Ellen, 435
---- Sir Andrew, 660
Windsor, Lady, 760
Wiseman, Cardinal, 713
Wright, Rev. W., 522
Wuld Ali, 461
Würtemberg, Duke of, 560
Z
Zebedani, 437
Zeller, Mrs. Van, 15, 754
Zenobia, 419
Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] [Miss Stisted speaks of her as “Jane Digby, who capped her wild
career by marrying a camel-driver,” and animadverts on Lady Burton for
befriending her. The Shaykh was never a camel-driver in his life, and
few, I think, will blame Lady Burton for her kindness to this poor
lady, her countrywoman, in a strange land.]
[2] _The Inner Life of Syria, Palestine, and the Holy Land_, by
Isabel Burton, 2 vols.
[3] Lady Ellenborough referred to her biography, which she had dictated
to Lady Burton--the true story of her life, which Lady Burton had
promised to publish for her, to clear away misrepresentations. In
consequence of difficulties which subsequently arose Lady Burton did
not publish it.
[4] Miss Stisted’s Life of Sir Richard Burton, p. 360. This book was
published December, 1896, eight months after Lady Burton’s death.
[5] _The Case of Captain Burton, late H.B.M. Consul at Damascus._
Clayton & Co., Parliamentary Printing Works, 1872.
[6] _Vide_ Letter from Foreign Office to Captain Burton, June 19,
1869 (Blue Book, p. 2).
[7] Letter of Captain Burton to Foreign Office, June 21, 1869 (Blue
Book, p. 2).
[8] Letter from Sir Henry Elliott to Lady Burton, July 12, 1871.
[9] Letter from Sir Henry Elliot to Lady Burton, July 12, 1871.
[10] Blue Book, p. 75.
[11] Blue Book, pp. 140, 141.
[12] _Vide_ Letter from Lord Granville to Captain Burton, under
Flying Seal, care of Consul-General Eldridge, July 22, 1871 (Blue Book,
p. 109).
[13] _Vide_ Letter of Captain Burton to Sir Henry Elliot, July 14,
1871 (Blue Book, pp. 95, 96).
[14] Letter from Captain Burton to the Rev. E. B. Frankel, Rev. J. Orr
Scott, Miss James, Rev. W. Wright, and Rev. John Crawford, Bludán, July
19, 1871 (Blue Book, p. 92).
[15] Miss Stisted’s Life of Burton, p. 361.
[16] Lady Burton thus describes her visit to the Austrian Court: “I was
very much dazzled by the Court. I thought everything was beautifully
done, so arranged as to give every one pleasure, and somehow it was
the graciousness that was in itself a welcome. I shall never forget
the first night that I saw the Empress--a vision of beauty, clothed
in silver, crowned with water-lilies, with large rows of diamonds and
emeralds round her small head and her beautiful hair, and descending
all down her dress in festoons. The throne-room is immense, with
marble columns down each side--all the men arranged on one side and
all the women on the other, and the new presentations with their
ambassadors and ambassadresses nearest the throne. When the Emperor
and Empress came in, they walked up the middle, the Empress curtseying
most gracefully and smiling a general gracious greeting. They then
ascended the throne, and presently the Empress turned to our side. The
presentations first took place, and she spoke to each one in her own
language, and on her own particular subject. I was quite entranced
with her beauty, her cleverness, and her conversation. She passed down
the ladies’ side, and then came up that of the men, the Emperor doing
exactly the same as she had done. He also spoke to us. Then some few
of us whose families the Empress knew about were asked to sit down,
and refreshments were handed to us--the present Georgina Lady Dudley
sitting by the Empress. It was a thing never to be forgotten to have
seen those two beautiful women sitting side by side. The Empress
Frederick of Germany--Crown Princess she was then--was also there, and
sent for some of us on another day, which was in many ways another
memorable event, and her husband also came in” (_Life of Sir Richard
Burton_, by Isabel his wife, vol. ii., pp. 24, 25).
[17] This and the next chapter are compiled from the original notes
from which Lady Burton wrote her _A. E. I._ and sundry letters and
diaries. By so doing I am able to give the Indian tour in her own words.
[18] Speech at the British National Association of Spiritualists,
December 13, 1878.
[19] Letter to Miss Bishop from Opçina, January 17, 1881.
[20] Letter to Miss Bishop from Trieste, December 5, 1881.
[21] This refers to _Camoens: the Commentary, Life, and Lusiads_.
Englished by R. F. Burton. Two vols. Containing a Glossary, and
Reviewers Reviewed, by Isabel Burton. 1880.
[22] From her devotional book _Laméd_, pp. 28, 29.
[23] _Life of Sir Richard Burton_, by Isabel his wife, vol. ii.,
p. 248.
[24] Gondokoro was the seat of Government of the Province of the
Equator.
[25] Sir Samuel Baker, whom Gordon succeeded as Governor of the tribes
which inhabit the Nile Basin in 1874.
[26] Romalus Gessi (Gessi Pasha), a member of Gordon’s staff.
[27] Mtesa, King of Uganda.
[28] Mr. Rivers Wilson.
[29] Nevertheless he permitted Dr. Birkbeck Hill to edit and publish
his letters in 1881, which give a good account of his work in Central
Africa.
[30] Johannis, King of Abyssinia.
[31] Colonel Prout, of the American army, for some time in command of
the Equatorial Provinces.
[32] King of Unyoro, a powerful and treacherous savage. Sir Samuel
Baker attempted to depose him, but Kaba Rega maintained his power.
[33] _Life of Sir Richard Burton_, by Isabel his wife, vol. ii.,
p. 177.
[34] He actually compiled a book of quotations from the Bible and
Shakspeare for use in case of need, which he called _The Black
Book_.
[35] Letter to Miss Bishop from Tangiers, Morocco, February 16, 1886.
[36] The late Lord Gerard.
[37] Letter to Miss Bird from Trieste, April 10, 1887.
[38] The Duchess of Fife.
[39] Letter to Miss Bishop, July 21, 1890.
[40] Lady Burton’s maid, now dead.
[41] _Life of Sir Richard Burton_, by Isabel his wife, vol. ii.,
pp. 410–414. This work was published in May, 1893.
[42] Miss Stisted’s Life of Burton, pp. 409–414.
[43] Translated from the Italian.
[44] A tonic, a strengthening restorative.
[45] An official (generally a physician) who visits the dead, and
assures himself that the death is real, and not an apparent one.
[46] The Baroness Paul de Ralli, who procured the above attestation
from the priest, sent it in the first instance to Cardinal Vaughan,
together with the following letter:
“TRIESTE, AUSTRIA, _January 19, 1897_.
“MY LORD CARDINAL,
“There has lately been published a so-called ‘true’ Life of the
late Sir Richard Burton, written by his niece. Since my letter
to _The Catholic Times_, which appeared in the issue of
December 24, it has been pointed out to me that it would be well
if I could procure a written attestation of the priest who gave
Extreme Unction to the late Sir Richard Burton. I am authorized
by Monseigneur Sterk to place in the hands of your Eminence
the enclosed manuscript, written by Monseigneur Martelani, who
is now Prebendary of the Cathedral here. As an intimate friend
of the Burtons, I beg to say that everything said about the
life of the Burtons at this place in the ‘true’ life has been
written from dictation, and, furthermore, that I could name the
authoress’s informant, which makes the book worthless for those
who know the source from which the authoress has gathered her
information--the same source which has made Lady Burton’s life
hideous from the day of her husband’s death to the time she
left this place. As regards those who claim to have known all
about Sir Richard Burton--‘They knew the man well,’ etc.--allow
me to point out that the exoteric subtleties of his character
were only exceeded by the esoteric; and to what an extent this
is true is only known to those who were at the same time his
friends and his wife’s intimate friends, of whom there are
several here beside myself. My position at the Villa Gosslett
was perhaps a little exceptional. Having come here from England
in 1875 after my marriage, I was looked upon by the Burtons as a
sort of ex-subject of theirs.
“Believe me to be, my Lord Cardinal,
“Yours faithfully,
“CATHERINE DE RALLI.”
[47] Speech at the Anthropological Society, London, 1865.
[48] Lady Burton’s letter to _The Morning Post_, June 19, 1891.
[49] Vol. X. _Arabian Nights_, Terminal Essay, Section D, pp. 205,
206, 1886.
[50] Letter to Madame de Gutmansthal-Benvenuti, from London, March 1,
1891.
[51] Letter to Miss Bishop, December 27, 1891.
[52] Burton’s enemies.
[53] Letter to Miss Bishop from Mortlake, March 25, 1893.
[54] Letter to Madame de Gutmansthal-Benvenuti, January 10, 1894.
[55] Letter of Lady Burton written from Trieste to Mrs. Francis Joly,
April 17, 1890.
[56] Holywell Lodge, Eastbourne, March 13, 1896.
Transcriber’s Notes:
1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.
2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the
original
3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.
4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.
5. Bold print is shown as =xxx=.