A QUIET TIME AT TRIESTE.
On our return from India, Richard produced "Sind Revisited" (2 vols.,
1877) and "Etruscan Bologna" (1 vol.), which had been some time in
preparation, but had not found a publisher.
After this, Richard and I pursued a quiet, literary life, and I studied
very hard. We began to translate Ariosto. It was summer, so we swam
a great deal, and then we went up to the village inn at Opçina, of
which I have already spoken. And we took a great interest in the Slav
school-children--about two hundred and twenty boys and girls. We used
to amuse ourselves with going in the evening to look at a _Sagra_ (the
peasants' dances at one or other of the villages in the Karso), where
they dance, and sing, and drink, and play games. On the 1st of August
I had a great sorrow, in which Richard participated. I had taken out
to Syria a couple of Yarborough fox-terriers. "Nip" was one of their
offspring (one of five, born on the 24th of June, 1871, in Syria). She
accompanied me to England, and then through France, Italy, Germany,
to Trieste; then again all over Italy and Germany, back to England,
to Arabia, India, and Egypt. In India (in April, 1876) she suddenly
lost her eyesight from the heat. We nursed her for over three months,
and tried everything. She had four doctors, but she died on the 1st
of August, 1876, and is buried in Mr. Brock's garden, Campagna Hill,
_viâ_ St. Vito, Trieste. She had to be chloroformed, as she was in such
pain, and there was no hope for her. I put up a little tombstone to her
memory, much to the rage of the peasants, who were also very angry at
her little sealskin coat in winter, and her cradle to sleep in; they
considering that I treated her like a Christian, which was true. The
cradle had its mattress and pillow, sheets, blankets, and curtain; and
God help anybody who ventured to touch that cradle, except to make it,
like our beds, with the utmost respect.
During this month, while we were out swimming, there was a cry of
"Shark!" We swam for our lives to the baths; but one young man had
been drawn down by his foot, and either the shark was a small one, or
the cries frightened it, and the swimmer was strong, for he managed to
save himself with a mangled foot. But some time before there had been
a man sitting, dangling his naked legs in the water at the edge of a
boat lashed to the quay, close to the hotel windows, and a shark had
wriggled itself up, and bit one leg off by the thigh. The poor fellow
died in a couple of hours from the fright and loss of blood, so there
is a "shark scare" every year, and swimming is not an unmitigated joy.
[Sidenote: _Delightful Trieste Life_.]
We also had a delightful habit of not dining, but all our intimates
would appoint to meet at one _café_ or another, where we supped out in
the open air, at separate little tables--say each party of fifteen its
own table--where, the garden being illuminated, we ordered the fare
of the country, and the country wine, and smoked cigarettes. We would
meet about nine, stay till eleven or twelve, and disperse to our homes.
It was so sociable. There is nothing of this kind in England. There
was, about a mile and a half from Trieste, a village on the shore,
called San Bartolo, where we used to do the same thing on a larger
scale. We would be thirty or forty, have a fiddle and a harp, and dance
afterwards in the open by moonlight. About this time we had the great
pleasure of a visit from Mrs. (now Lady) Kirby Green, and her sister;
also Mr. Hamilton Aïdé, Mr. Matthews, our late Home Secretary, Miss
Yule, so famous for military tactics; also the Stillmans. Richard was
lucky enough to get an occasional trip with Baron Pino, our delightful
Governor, on the _Pelagosa_, the Government yacht.
An amusing little incident happened in connection with my learning
Italian. I wanted very much to go through the Italian classics with a
professor. My professor was a Tuscan, a gentleman, a Christian, and a
celebrated Dantesque scholar, but a priest who had unhappily fallen
away from his vocation. He gained great fame and applause amongst
_litterati_ for his declamations of Dante. I used to read beforehand
the canto for the night, in Bohn's English translation; then he would
declaim it to me in Italian, acting it unconsciously all the while;
then I used to read it aloud in Italian, to catch his pronunciation,
and as I read he stopped me and explained every shade of Dante's
thoughts and meaning. When he came to that part where the souls in hell
are crying out and scratching themselves, he also kept crying out and
scratching himself. It was evening, as he had only that time to spare.
Richard had gone to bed, and I had left the door open between us. All
of a sudden he called out loudly, "What the devil is that noise--what
is the matter?" "Oh," I said in English, "it is only Rossi acting the
damned souls in hell for me." Peals of laughter came from the bed. The
master naturally asked what was the matter, and he was so shy after
that, that it spoilt my lessons. I could never get him to act any more,
as he had been doing it quite unconsciously.[1] Richard was also very
fond of a good opera, and we often went if there was a new piece.
On the 15th of October, 1876, we had a delightful excursion to Salvore
to see the new excavations and _castellieri_; Baron and Baroness Pino
made a party in the Government yacht, and gave us a charming breakfast.
Coming back, instead of getting in in early afternoon, we got lost in a
fog, and did not get back till eleven o'clock, when we found ourselves
grating against the lighthouse. I have a remembrance of that day in the
shape of a marble paper-weight with its little history engraved on it,
given to me by the excavator, Cav. Richetti, civil engineer.
We used to have a great many spiritualistic _séances_ at Monsieur and
Madame Jules Favre's, brother of Léon Favre. All the spiritualists used
to collect here.
We went a trip to Fiume and Agram, and to Gorizia, two hours' express
from Trieste in the Karso, as I wanted to make a "spiritual retreat"
at the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, but under a Dalmatian Jesuit. Gorizia is
a pretty, striking, picturesque cathedral town. It covers a hill, some
hillocks, and a part of a fertile plateau in the heart of the Carniola
Mountains, surrounded by ranges of wooded Istrian mountains, which are
also encircled by a higher snow-capped range (the Carniola range). It
is small, cheerful, primitive, with salubrious air, especially good
for nerves and chest complaints; it is composed entirely of Churches,
Monasteries, and Convents, church dignitaries, and all sorts of
ecclesiastics and nuns--a Prince Archbishop being the Chief--and a few
pious old ladies--a resident local aristocracy. The river Isonzo, the
boundary between Austria and Italy, glides through the valley, making
the sea green with its outflow, sometimes as far as Duino. It is a
magnificent scene in the sunset, when it lights up the snow, bathing it
in purple, red, and gold, till the whole panorama seems on fire. There
is a great pilgrimage place called Monte-Santo on a grizly top, with
church and monastery, where Richard and I have often been together.
This Deaf and Dumb Institution is a large Convent with a garden. It has
a little chapel dedicated to the Sacred Heart, seven sisters of Notre
Dame, a padre who is Director, a second priest, and a professor who
is an aspirant for the priesthood, a number of servants, and a hundred
and fifty children, deaf and dumb boys and girls. Everything is done by
signs; the prayers, the studies, the sermon; even plays are acted in
signs. The education is reading, writing, arithmetic, catechism, plain
work, fancy work, drawing, illustrating, church work; the boys help in
the garden, and the padre keeps fish, rabbits, and bees. They call him
"papa." He is quite devoted to his bees, and being a highly educated
man, Richard used to pass a great deal of time with him and the bees.
[Sidenote: _Henri V. of France_.]
After my retreat was over, I had the honour and the pleasure of being
sent for--unfortunately Richard had left--by the Comte and the Comtesse
de Chambord (Henri Cinq of France). By far the most interesting figure
was this now departed relic of ancient chivalry, who lived a great part
of the year here, the focus of a small Court, with an _entourage_ of
Legitimates. They sent for me twice, and desired that I should dine
with them. I had to explain to the Chamberlain that I had only the
dress I was travelling in, but they said that that did not in the least
matter; so I dined there, and the King honoured me by putting me on
his right hand. He was most cordial and in good spirits, and talked
incessantly, and was afterwards so gracious as to send me autographed
portraits of himself and the Queen. He had known my mother before she
was married, and had danced with her, I suppose, as a little boy; but
he told me of it when I was at Venice with part of my family in 1858,
when he made our six weeks' stay very happy.
[Sidenote: _Bertoldstein_.]
From there we visited Bertoldstein,--the station Feldbach,--the post
town Fehring. The castle, bought by Safvet Pasha (Count Kossichsky)
some twenty-six years ago, is an interesting feudal and melancholy
looking place, where he reunites the comfort of Europe with Egyptian
romance.[2] It is at the top of a hill, and there is a very beautiful
drive to Gleichenberg, where there are waters and baths, very much
frequented by Austrians, and a small theatre that was exceedingly
amusing, and here we saw daily some of the best Austrian society, and
heard some of the native music beautifully sung by them. The Pasha
kept plenty of thoroughbred horses, chiefly black stallions, which he
used to have paraded round the court of the house for our inspection,
a boy to each horse. We frequently had to move out of the way, and
to stand where their heels could not touch us; it was as much as the
boys could do to hold them. I never saw a more perfect whip; he always
drove four-in-hand, and the roads are so narrow, the drop at each
side so deep, that you could not help wondering what would happen if
we met anything, and I do not believe sometimes you could have put a
sheet of paper between the vehicles. We enjoyed ourselves here very
much for a few days, and then we returned to Graz. Then Richard went
up to Karlsbad, paid a visit to Maríenbad, and then to Teplitz as a
_Nach-kur_; then he went to Prague and Linz, then to Stein, then to
Klagenfurt, and back to Trieste, when we began to write more biography.
At this time Boïto's "Mefistofele" came to Trieste, and we both agreed
that we had never heard anything like it, and never would again. You
must be a musician to appreciate. The first time you feel almost
confused, but new beauties develop with each hearing.
MIDIAN.
In his old Arab days, wandering about with his Korán, forty years
ago, Richard came upon a gold land in that part of Arabia belonging
to Egypt. He was a romantic youth, with a chivalrous contempt for
filthy lucre, and only thought of "winning his spurs;" so, setting a
mark upon the place, he turned away and passed on. After twenty-five
years, seeing Egypt distressed for gold, he asked for "leave," and
he went back to Cairo, and imparted his secret to the Khedive. Uncle
Gerard furnished him with the means of going. His Highness equipped an
Expedition in a few days, and sent him there to rediscover the land
(end of 1876). He has given an account of that trip in the "Gold Mines
of Midian" and the "Ruined Midianite Cities," 1878.
The Khedive engaged him to come back the following winter, 1877, with
a view to learning every item concerning this rich old country, and
applied to the Foreign Office for the loan of him for the winter,
which being granted, he set out in October, 1877, in command of a new
Expedition, on a much larger scale, and was out seven months in the
desert of Arabia, doing hard work. He discovered a region of gold and
silver, zinc, antimony, sulphur, tin, copper, porphyry, turquoise,
agate, lead, and six or seven commoner metals, extending some hundreds
of miles either way, and pearls on the coast, a Roman temple, and
thirty-two mining Cities. The Expedition mapped and planned and
sketched the whole country, and brought back abundance of the various
metals for assay or analysis. The ancients had only worked forty feet,
whereas with our appliances we might have gone down twelve hundred.
The Khedive was charmed; he made splendid contracts with my husband, so
that, with the commonest luck, not only Egypt would have become rich,
but my husband would have been a millionaire in a very few years, and
he used to say jokingly that he would be _Duke of Midian_, the only
title he had ever wished for. To our great misfortune Ismail Khedive
abdicated just as the third Expedition was about to come off, in
1878-9. The new Khedive, Tewfik, did not consider himself bound by any
act of his father's; the English Government (it is hardly worth while
to remark) was not likely to give Richard a chance of anything good,
and instead of being able to carry out the enterprise, he lost all the
money which we had advanced and partly borrowed for paying expenses
which we were sure would be refunded.[3] His second interesting work on
this expedition was the "Land of Midian Revisited" (2 vols., 1879).
In all the expeditions that my husband has undertaken to different
mines the minerals are _there_, but there has been too much dishonesty
by those employed to carry it out, for my husband ever to have had his
proper share, as Explorer, Discoverer, and Reporter, or Leader of these
Expeditions. Every man has been for feathering his own nest, even in a
small way, regardless of the public good, and where any other nation
has been mixed up, it has cheated in favour of its own country. All
these mines will be worked some day, and men will profit largely, but
the one who deserved to reap good, is dead, and his widow will be dead
before the day comes round.
[Illustration: AKKAS.]
[Sidenote: _Akkas_.]
Between the first and second Expedition we had a large party from
Egypt--Prince Battikoff, Safvet Pasha, Count and Countess della Sala,
and others, and there were grand doings on board the _Ceylon_ (a
Peninsular and Oriental steamer) for the Queen's birthday. We also had
the pleasure of giving a little dinner to Salvini, who came to act
there for a week--a little party of eight, which included H.R.H. the
Duke of Würtemburg and Mr. George Smart. Then we went to Verona for
a while to see the two Akkas brought by Gessi from Africa; Richard's
object was, that it was very difficult to get hold of this important
little race. These were two males, and there was one at Trieste,
a female, which had been brought to his notice by Mdlle. Luisa
Serravallo, the daughter of our principal chemist, a very charming
family, and she a delightful girl, profoundly educated and serious, who
was studying this specimen together with the language, and Richard took
a great interest in it. He wanted to see what the effect would be of
bringing the Akka boys and girl into each other's presence, but through
the jealousy of the people who owned the respective treasures it was
not to be managed.
We had a little excursion in the _Pelagosa_, the Government yacht, to
Zara, to Lissa, and Cazza--a little trip of ten days.
One evening we started for Adelsberg, where we paid the usual visit
to the caves, and from where there are charming drives. We drove
to Idria, a pretty village with its church, through a magnificent
country, with splendid gorges, magnificently wooded (chiefly pines),
exceedingly fertile, with trout rivers, and delicious air. We descended
the quicksilver mine, and saw the whole of its workings. Idria is also
famed for its beautiful lace, which is exceedingly cheap, and which
you see sold in various parts of Europe with wonderful names attached
to it. We then visited the castle of Windisgrätz. We had a very merry
time, for we were a large party of English, and we had all sorts of fun.
There was a great joke against Richard, who wanted to inspect a place
for scientific reasons which were above the comprehension of the rest
of the party. It was one of those mysterious grounds in the Karso
where rivers, and even small lakes, disappear and rise up in some
other place, changing their ground as the swallows change air, at
certain seasons; but he did not tell them this, and they thought they
were going to see something wonderful. We drove and drove all day, in
carts without springs, over hill and dale and stones, until we were
half dead, and across a sort of jolting common, and then we came to a
little building that might have been a protection for cattle in bad
weather. We all got out and went anxiously into this building, and saw
nothing but the objectionable signs of cattle having been there, and
Richard (who was our guide) looked round in a profound meditation,
and then he nodded his head, and muttered these few words, "I see, I
see; I am perfectly satisfied;" and then he turned round, and we all
mounted our wretched carts again to the next possible roadside "tap,"
where our horses were fed and rested, and we got some eggs and rice and
beer, and then we all laughed immensely and chaffed him about having
brought us all that way to see--what? I joined the others for fun; but
then I knew, because he had told me. The place had a very long Slav
name, Zerknick-something, but they all christened it "Shirkins," and it
has remained so ever since. From this we went on to Graz, a beautiful
place halfway between Trieste and Vienna, which is the paradise of the
younger and poorer branches of the aristocracy, and retired officers,
military and naval. Some wag christened it Pensionville.
ON RETURN.
One of the papers on May 16th, and I think it was the _Daily News_,
wrote as follows:--
"We referred yesterday to the latest discovery of Captain Richard
Burton, who is surely the most fortunate of modern voyagers, as he
is certainly the most widely travelled. The Highlands of Brazil, the
kingdom of Dahomey, the fever-stricken shores of Eastern Africa, the
Equatorial Lakeland whence flow the waters of the Nile, Scinde and
the Punjaub, the ruined cities of Etruria, Iceland, and Hecla, the
City of the Mormons, the country of the Druzes, the unknown land of
El Aláh, with as many Cities as there are days in the year--all these
are places not only visited, but described by a writer whose wealth
of information seems unparalleled. Almost alone among Christian
travellers, he has penetrated into the most sacred places of the
most fanatic people; has witnessed the secret rites of Hindoos; has
worshipped as a Moslem among Moslems in the City which received the
fugitive Prophet, and may wear the green turban of a pilgrim, because
he has performed the ritual of Islam at the Kaaba of Mecca, and has
also received the Brahminical thread. His books of travel, united,
form almost as many volumes as may be found in Hakluyt's Collection,
Purchas's 'Pilgrims,' or Pinkerton's 'Voyages.' The wanderings of this
modern Ulysses cover an area of a good quarter of the habitable globe
and a period of forty years. He is one of those who have kept alive
the glorious tradition of English adventure. There are Geographical
Societies in every European country, but none can show so long a list
of achievements as our own. There are travellers of France, Germany,
Italy, and Russia to be found in every far-off corner of the earth,
but none who have done so much as our own men. And now, to add to
his long catalogue of honourable and successful voyages, the gallant
Captain reports that he has restored an ancient California to the
World, and that is none other than the Land of Midian."
Midian means the district which in the Bible covers the peninsula of
Sinai, and the country east of the Gulf of Akabah, east of the river
Jordan, into which the Midianites fled before the Three Hundred, and
comprises that great desert south and east of the Euphrates, through
which the modern Midianites, who are the present Bedawi, with their
cattle and black tents still wander. Their manners and customs are just
the same, only guns have taken the place of the bow, coffee and tobacco
have been brought in; a sort of veneer of Mohammedan doctrine is added
to the ancient patriarchal faith, still keeping its own traditions.
Richard's Midian was an utterly unknown country along the east coast
of the Gulf of Akabah, one of the two narrow inlets in which the Red
Sea ends. When I say unknown, it has been practically unvisited and its
shores unexplored until now. There is abundant evidence of a former
population and a cultivated period; there are ruins of large towns,
of solid masonry, roads cut in the rock, aqueducts five miles long;
remains of massive fortresses with artificial reservoirs, all the
signs of a busy and a prosperous period, when fleets with richly laden
cargoes came to and fro. The rocks are full of mineral wealth--gold,
silver, tin, antimony, and many other rich things, just as in the gold
districts elsewhere. The sands of the streams yield gold, and the
ancient mining works lie destroyed round every town, heaps of ashes
close to the mineral furnaces. There are mines of turquoises. This
hoard of possible wealth would have set up Ismail Khedive and Egypt for
ever, if she could only have worked it. Richard began to be called in
fun the "new Pharaoh's new Joseph."
These seas were once bright with trade and craft and cargoes from every
part of the Eastern World. The mines flourished with the trade, and
doubtless perished through the same causes. First the struggle between
the Persians and Heraclius, and then the Moslem conquest.
Richard went first to Moilah, thence to Aynunah Bay. Every ruined town
had its mining works, dams for washing of sand and crushed rock, and
gold-washing vessels. Then they went to Makna, written "Mugua" in the
maps, the Capital of the land, as far as Jebel Hassani, and he found it
much like ancient California. These gold and precious stones producing
parts of Arabia were closed up four thousand years ago, and present the
appearance of having been suddenly left, in consequence of earthquake
or some great volcanic evolution. They found a black sand containing
a very clear oxide of tin, and a large stone engraved with antique
inscriptions, which they copied.
[Sidenote: _Waiting and working_.]
At the first expedition there was not money enough for us both to go,
so I had to make the sacrifice and stay behind.
On the 19th we went on board the _Espero_, the Khedive having summoned
him to Egypt, where the work of organization went on, and they landed
at Tur (where he had landed in 1853), and went to Arafat, and to El
Muwáylah and Shermá, to Jebel el Abyaz, and innumerable other places.
I spent my time partly in Trieste, but mostly in the rural (Opçina) inn
away up in the mountains, engaged in correcting the proofs of one of
his books. One day a party of friends came up to look after me, as they
said they wondered what on earth I was doing, it being the gay time in
Trieste, and I absent from everything; and they found me occupied in
rather a curious way, which gave rise to a great deal of chaff. I had
assembled a large party of all the country priests of the Karso, some
of them very curious, and I was giving them a dinner to amuse myself,
and the contrast between them (mostly Slavs) and the "swell" party
from Trieste was rather absurd. I never heard the end of that dinner.
"So this is the way you pass your time out here?" they all said to me.
"What a curious taste!" All my real days were taken up with protection
of cruelty to animals in the Karso, which is very bad, and writing. I
used to take tremendous long walks over the mountains. The landlady of
the inn also gave me enough to do. She and her husband were a spoony,
gawky boy and girl. They had just had their first baby (we had known
their grandfather and their father and mother). She was only sixteen,
and knew absolutely nothing; so when she was occupied in running after
her boy-husband, this baby was flung in swaddling clothes down upon the
stone floor, anywhere, and left to bawl its heart out for food or care
of any sort, and I began to perceive that it was dying; so I took it
from her, and kept it entirely under my own care. I passed three weeks
with that child in my arms. I dressed it in English baby clothes with
flannel, and I fed it and doctored it till it got quite well. By the
time she had a second she had grown wiser, and adopted my nursery ways
instead of her own.
While I was waiting I had one of my annual _fêtes_, giving prizes
for humanity to animals. It took place in the great hall called
del Ridotto, decorated with flags, and was well filled with the
Authorities, my friends, and crowds of people. The military band
played, the Governor was President, and he and the Committee and I sat
at a big table on the platform covered with the usual green cloth.
There were a great many speeches; I made mine in Italian, and spoke for
nearly three-quarters of an hour. The prizes were thirty of twenty-five
florins, six of twenty florins, two of fifteen florins, one of ten
florins, and we gave away many decorations and diplomas. I had the
honour of receiving a medal and many kisses and congratulations from my
friends.
I had the great pleasure of receiving Miss Irby and Miss Johnstone, who
were doing such admirable work in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and which
was most interesting to hear about, and also again a visit from the
Stillmans. I had one more sorrow to go through. Léon Favre and his
wife, our French Consul-General, had always been most kind to us, and
during my husband's absence I was always counted upon for their Sunday
dinner. The Sunday before I had been up there, and we had been thirteen
at table, which I, being a superstitious woman, strongly objected to,
but I was laughed out of it. The following Sunday I went as usual to
dinner, when the maid-servant who opened the door informed me, with
tears, that her mistress had been dead just an hour. Léon Favre is now
dead, so that my remarks cannot agitate him, but when I saw her I was
of opinion that she was _not_ dead. The eyes were closed and the mouth
shut exactly as in sleep, and no one had either bound up the jaw or
closed the eyes. I called her husband, who was devoted to her, and told
him; but he declared that the doctors had been called in, and certified
that she was dead. The next day I went again, and had the same feeling
about it, and another great friend of hers, independently of me, went
upstairs and made a great fuss. However the doctors said she was dead,
and she was buried. She had died of heart disease.
I got very good news shortly about the Expedition, which put me in good
spirits.
[Sidenote: _I go out to join him_.]
On the second Expedition it was arranged that as soon as I had
corrected the last proof of his "Midian," I should make my way out to
Cairo and Suez, and get the Khedive to send me on. I had been restless
with impatience to start ever since he had been gone, and I was on
board an Austrian-Lloyd's as soon as the last proof was out of my hand
and I was free. About seventy of my friends came to see me off, and as
it was heavy weather, the passengers were all very sick, and I had the
ship pretty well to myself. At Corfú we had full moon and the water
like oil, but on steaming out there was a rough sea, and deluges of
rain and darkness all through the Ionian Islands, which did not better
itself till we had passed Gozo. Landing at Alexandria, I immediately
found my letters and instructions, which did not please me much, as
"_I was not to attempt to join unless I could do so in proper order_;"
it remained to be seen what "_proper order_" meant. I always wonder
_when_ people sleep in Alexandria, for the whole night long there is
a perfect pandemonium of clogs, carriages, cracking of whips, and
pleasure-parties.
I went off at once to Cairo, and I had the pleasure of seeing a great
deal of our Consul-General, Mr. and Mrs. Vivian. I also had the worry
of learning that the last _Sambúk_ (or open boat) had gone the day
before. Not that I could have gone in her, because that would decidedly
not have been "going properly," but I should have sent loads of things
by it. I did not want to stop for the gaieties of Cairo; I wanted to
get as near as I could to the opposite side of the water, and watch my
chance of going. So I made my way up to Zagazíg, and visited poor Mrs.
Clarke, who was just as unhappy as myself because her husband was gone
with mine as secretary. I do not know that we did each other very much
good. At Suez lived the Levick family (he was the Postmaster-General,
and did good service to the State for something like forty-seven years,
though his widow and children are now left to starve), and they were
awfully kind to me. At last I was informed that a ship was going to
be sent out, and that I was to have the offer of going in her, though
it was intimated to me privately that the Khedive and the Governor,
Said Bey, were very much in hopes that I should refuse. It was an
Egyptian man-of-war, the _Senaar_, that was to anchor off the coast
till the expedition emerged from the desert, and to bring them back.
The Captain received me with all honour. All hands were piped on deck,
and a guard and everything provided for me. They were most courteous,
said that they would like to take me, and would do everything in their
power to make me comfortable, but I saw at once that the accommodation
was of too public a nature; in short, that it would be impossible for
any woman to embark without her husband on an Egyptian man-of-war. It
would lower _her_ in _their_ eyes, and hurt _his_ dignity. Besides
turning _them_ out of their only quarters, when my husband came to
embark the men of his Staff, I should be excessively in the way; so,
thanking them exceedingly for their courteousness, I returned to the
town, to the immense relief of all concerned, took some small rooms at
the Suez Hotel, and started my literary work. To have crossed the Red
Sea in an open _Sambúk_, with head winds blowing, and then to fight my
way across the desert alone upon a camel, would have been dangerous to
_me_ and _infra dig._ for my husband's position; and the Khedive was
just in that critical state that I could not have asked him to organize
a second Expedition, to send me out with no definite object, save my
own pleasure, although I am sure that he would have done it in former
prosperous years.
There was a nice little Franciscan Convent of Italian monks near the
inn, a mere hut with a room decorated as a chapel, where I used to pass
an hour or so every day. Consul West and his wife were most hospitable
to me, and they lent me a gigantic white donkey which nobody could
break. He was more difficult to ride than any horse I ever mounted, as
he ate his head off in the stable and never was ridden. I took long
desert rides on him, but he nearly dislocated all my bones. Once I rode
to see the Haj Caravan, and I went to see the _Da'aseh_ (the mounted
Shaykh riding over the backs of the people), and once came in for a
tremendous sand-storm.
General Charles Gordon arrived, and stayed a week here, which I enjoyed
very much, for of course I used to see him every day. He was certainly
very eccentric, but very charming. I say eccentric, until you got to
know and understand him. Also Mr. and Mrs. Ashley-Dodd came there for
several days. I was obliged to go to Cairo for four days, including
journeys. In those days it was a ten-hours' wearying affair. I arrived
at six, and about half an hour afterwards got an invitation to the
Khedive's theatricals, balls, and supper. It was a magnificent affair,
a perfect garden upstairs, halls of blazing light and flowers, gorgeous
dresses, magnificent supper and good wine, first-rate acting, and all
the great people in Egypt present. The Khedive was exceedingly gracious
to me. I had loads of people to see me, and many invitations. Amongst
others, that admirable old man, Baron Ferdinand de Lesseps (in spite
of his late _failure_, not his _fault_, a real Grand Old Man); and his
pretty wife invited me to Ismailíyyeh; but of course I could not go. I
just caught a glimpse of all my friends, not forgetting Mr. and Mrs.
Alexander Baird, and on the fourth day worried back to Suez in the
ten-hour train. During those four days and nights I think I had had
only four hours' sleep.
I had one little thing to amuse me. A P. and O. arrived and touched
there, and on these days, unless you had friends on board, the
passengers seemed to turn you out of house and home, and there
were generally a quantity of Indian military ladies. The ladies'
toilette-room for these passengers was near my room, and coming out I
saw them struggling on very uncomfortably, almost in the dark; so I
good-naturedly fetched a candle from my room, and said, "I am afraid
you are very uncomfortable in there--will you have a candle?" They
stared me up and down for a minute, and then said, "Why, of course. Go
and get us a comb and some hot water, will you?" I began to be amused.
I was in hopes they would give me a shilling--but they did not. I
called my maid and told her in German to go and tell the landlady that
they wanted a comb and some hot water. "Oh," they said, "do you _all_
speak German in this hotel?" I said, "I don't know--but that girl is an
Austrian." I then went back to my room.
The poor landlady had seen better days, and she used to feel quite
crushed when they said, "Send the woman with the boots, will you? and
look sharp," or some equivalent speech; and she used to take to her
bed after every steamer, which, however, fortunately I think, was only
once a fortnight; but as soon as she heard that they had done it to me,
she got quite well, and did not mind it a bit; so it did some good.
The fun was that in the evening they were so puzzled to see me sitting
at the top of the table with all the best people round me, and amongst
them two friends, a married couple, whom they had snubbed tremendously
on board, and whom I held in high honour, and who were awfully amused
at the way the ladies had treated me. Then in the evening I had a
tea-fight, to which all Suez came. Subsequently, a year after, I met
the very lady who had ordered me to get the comb at a dinner-party.
She sat opposite to me. I recognized her, but she did not recognize
me. I could not help telling the story to my next-door neighbour, who
appreciated the joke immensely, and said, "_Do_ say 'how-do-you-do' to
her, and tell her where you last met her." But I would not have spoilt
her pleasure for the world.
[Sidenote: _Richard's Triumphant Return_.]
During my stay in Suez a remarkable event occurred, of dumb madness
in dogs. It was an epidemic in the air, as dogs separately confined
and well cared for died just the same. I lost two of Richard's. The
pariahs had it very bad. I have seen them running into the sea to
drown themselves, and out of three thousand, there were only about
forty left. At last, on the 20th of April, 1878, whilst I was in the
church during the "Office" for Holy Saturday, a messenger from the
Governor put a slip of paper into my hand--"The _Senaar_ is in sight,
the _Emetic_ will await you later on to meet the ship." I found Richard
looking ill and tired. Before the ship had been anchored half an hour,
every soul had deserted, and he was left in sole charge, and could
not come off till the following morning. The Khedive sent a special
train for him and the Expedition, which left at eight in the morning.
Halfway, at Zagazíg, a beautiful dinner had been prepared for us by
Monsieur Camille Vetter, a French cotton-merchant from Ettlingen, the
Grand Duchy of Baden, Germany. We dined in an arbour, and there was a
profusion of champagne and delicacies galore. Our train caught fire
four times, and we had to get out and pour buckets of sand over it,
there being no water.
An Englishman who happened to be at Suez wrote to the _Home News_,
June 1st, 1878: "I had occasion to be at Suez on the return of Haji
Abdullah (Dick Burton) from Midian last month, and I noted the
sensation his arrival created. His name is as well known amongst the
natives in Egypt as if he had passed all his days amongst them. Pashas
and other great personages from Europe are continually passing to and
fro almost unheeded. How different was the case when it became known
that Haji Abdullah was leaving for Cairo! The platform was crowded with
Europeans and natives. The rumour had got abroad that 'that wonderful
man' was at Suez on his return from the exploring trip to Midian."
Richard was received with great distinction by the Khedive; it was a
sort of triumphal entry. The Khedive wished for an exhibition of the
minerals, which he opened in person, Richard and Mr. Frederick Smart
attending him, and I attended a good deal upon the harem. We had
three weeks of that sort of work, and writing reports in French and
English, made excursions to the Pyramids, and received a great deal
of hospitality from our friends, Mr. Frederick Smart, the Michells,
General Purday, the Romaines, the Bairds, the Barings, Abate Bey, Artin
Yakoob Pasha, the Tennants, the Vivians, the Lesseps, Barrot Bey,
General and Mrs. Stone, the Kremers, and very pleasant were the dinners
by moonlight on the Bairds' _dahabeeyah_, enhanced by the stillness,
the view, the distant singing. The Khedive made a contract that Richard
should have the concession of the discoveries, or to have five per
cent. upon the whole gross profits.
[Sidenote: _We go Home_.]
We left on the 10th of May for Alexandria, dined out at Ramleh,
and left on the 12th in the "_Austria_," Captain Rossol. We were
eighty-five passengers in a small steamer, so we were not very
comfortable; but we were very merry, and we had with us Mr. Frederick
Smart, Safvet Pasha, Mohammed Bey, Baronne de Saurmà, _née_ Comtesse
de Hatzfeldt, Lord Talbot de Malahide and his daughter Frances, and
General Stranz. At Corfú we saw Sir Charles Sebright, and dined all
together at St. George's Hotel. We had one man ill with typhus, who
was shut away for fear the passengers should know, and I got awfully
scolded for going in to nurse him, and as two sharks followed under
our bows, they made an unpleasant impression. When we arrived at nine
o'clock at night, as we steamed in, our faithful friends, the Governor,
Baron Pino, and his wife, rowed up to the side of the vessel, and sent
a man to tell Captain and Mrs. Burton to come to their boat directly;
and they took us away in less than two minutes, fearing the steamer
would be sent in quarantine, and afterwards our belongings followed
us. The man died two days after landing in his own home, but no harm
resulted to any one. An untoward and melancholy incident also occurred.
A poor lady was coming to Austria to see which of the baths would make
her a little more blood, as she was anæmic. The exertion of landing
from the ship to the hotel caused her to faint; a young doctor was
called in, who, mistaking her case, bled her, taking out the little
drop she had, and she died that night.
We now went up to Opçina to rest. Richard was detained at his post on
account of the then expected war, but was released in a few weeks and
allowed to come to London to arrange matters for the further working
of Midian. We embarked on the 6th of July in a Cunard steamer which
occupies from twenty-one to twenty-six days from Trieste to Liverpool,
going first to Venice. On the way we read Dellon's "Inquisition" in
Portuguese. We touched at Brindisi; went through the Straits of Messina
to Palermo, where we found it very, very hot. We landed, and went to
see everything worth seeing, not forgetting the Capuchins, who have
large underground crypts, where the dead monks are not buried, but tied
up, as if drying. It is very curious, but rather gruesome. I went to
visit a relation there, who had been one of the members. The Capuchins
gave me a huge blue pottery jar, with a tap, which the priests used to
wash their fingers after Mass, and for which I had taken an immense
fancy; it bears the Franciscan arms. Richard had gout very badly a
great part of the way, but not gout in the exaggerated sense of later
years. We landed again at Gibraltar, and had bad weather across the
Bay, and all the way home, reaching London on the 27th of July, 1878.
[Sidenote: _The British Association for Science_.]
On the 12th of August we left by the night mail for Dublin, where we
joined the British Association for Science, which opened on the 14th.
We were asked to spend the time at Malahide with Lord Talbot and his
family, and a delightful time we had, meeting old friends, and making
many charming acquaintances--Lord and Lady Gough, and Dr. Lloyd,
Provost of Trinity, a charming, venerable, and distinguished man. The
Duchess of Marlborough, who was then reigning, was very kind to us.
We met again our old friend, the philanthropist Lentaigne, and Mr.
Spottiswoode. The excursionists came over to see Malahide Castle, and
Lord Talbot and Richard dined at the Lord Mayor's to meet the Lord
Lieutenant. Richard's lecture (Section E, Geographical) came off on
the 19th, and his first lecture at the Anthropological (on Midian)
took place next day, the Vice-Regal party being present, and we then
went back to make tea for the "Association." At his third lecture (on
Midian, Anthropological), the Vice-Royalties were also present, and
there was a great party that evening.
On the 23rd Richard lectured on the Ogham Runes[4] (El Mushajjar) at
Sir Samuel Fergusson's, and we returned on the 26th to London. At the
end of September I began to see about my "A.E.I." ("Arabia, Egypt, and
India ").
[Sidenote: _Society and Amusement_.]
All during our present stay in London we were on a visit to my father.
We saw a good deal of Society--luncheon-parties and dinner-parties
several times a week. We had a great treat in visits to Mr. Frank
Dillon's Damascus room (his studio) at 11, Durham Villas, Campden
Hill, which we always left with regret. About this time Mr. Alfred
Levick, son of the Postmaster-General of Suez, came home dreadfully
ill, and went into the University Hospital, and in gratitude for past
kindnesses from his father, we were very assiduous in attending on him
all the time of his illness. We went up to Lancashire in October to
stay with Uncle Gerard, and to Knowsley, where Lady Derby had a large
house-party. At Garswood, amongst other visitors, came Sir Julius
Benedict. From Garswood we went to some more cousins at Carlton Towers,
Yorkshire, where Lord Beaumont gave a large house-warming, and thence
to Lord Houghton's at Frystone--all these houses had big parties--and
then back to London. We then went to Hatfield to Lady Salisbury's,
where we had the pleasure of being again in the same house with Lord
Beaconsfield, and the present Lord Rowton, his secretary. A very nice
second cousin of mine (Everard Primrose) was staying there, and an
amusing little event occurred. He was (to those who did not know him) a
cold, serious, rather prim young man, and very punctilious. He suddenly
one evening felt _en train_, went out of the room, and disordering his
tie and pulling one arm out of his coat, and a hat on the back of his
head, he came into the room with an assumed stagger, and sang "The
Marseillaise" furiously, just like a tipsy Frenchman at the barricades.
Lord Beaconsfield was delighted. I think it was the only time I ever
saw him laugh downright heartily. When it was over, Colonel Primrose
went out of the room and came back quite quiet, and looking as if he
had done nothing. He often said afterwards to me at Vienna (and various
places abroad), when there was a very stiff party at an Embassy or
Foreign party, "I wish to gracious I could do the 'Marseillaise' now,
but those things are obliged to come by inspiration." A pity such a man
should have perished, in that useless fight in the Soudan, of fever. We
had the pleasure of a very pleasant dinner at Lady Ashburton's, where
we met several delightful people, notably Mr. Augustus Hare, Swinburne,
and Miss Hatty Hosmar, the famous sculptress. It was remarkably
interesting, and Mr. Hare told us delightful ghost stories. We then
went to Ashridge to Lady Marian Alford, who was the best friend we have
had in London, except Lord Houghton. Then I went to Brighton (where
we saw a good deal of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Sassoon) for the purpose of
helping at a bazaar in behalf of humanity to animals. Richard brought
out his second Midian book, called "The Land of Midian Revisited" (2
vols., 1879).
On the 19th of November took place the wedding of Colonel Oliphant and
my cousin Miss Gerard, which was a treat as a gathering of friends and
relations. Richard was at this time under Dr. Garrod for gout.
About December 22nd, Richard had an upset that caused him to be rather
poorly for three weeks, which disappeared one night in a quiet dinner
with our friend, J. J. Aubertin, who gave us a bottle of very old white
port, that seemed to cure him.
THE LITERARY B'S OF 1878.[5]
"One B. his honey found
On Sinai's hallowed ground,
And in Midian he sojourned for a season;
But enemies there were
Who stole the lion's share
Of the fame and of the honour without reason.
"Then a second busy B.--
Mammon's votary is he--
Who the sods and soil of Midian unrolled;
He says the land is fair,
But, in truth, there's nothing there
So magnetic and attractive as its gold."
[1] Since going to press, Abbé Rossi has died the death of a penitent
priest, received all the last Sacraments of the Catholic Church, and
was escorted to the grave by six of his fellow-priests.--I. B.
[2] This Pasha and castle are sometimes mentioned in novels.--I. B.
[3] The Khedive did not advance any money; he only desired the bills
to be sent in to him. He was deposed before the bills were sent in.
My husband's losses were great. Mine were £728.
[4] The Ogham being the "fair writing" of the ancient Irish literature,
and the Mushajjar is the Arabic Tree Alphabet, which is an Arab mystery
(how many yards of trees I have had to copy!). After having lectured on
it, he wrote an account of it for the Royal Society of Literature in
1879, and then made it into a pamphlet.--I. B.
[5] I think from _Punch_.