RICHARD ON HOME RULE AND THE RELIGIOUS QUESTION.
I think that these valuable letters written by Richard in 1886, a year
before he became an invalid, are too precious not to be reproduced in
this difficult crisis, regarding Home Rule, as they were written for
the same crisis seven years ago. He had a most wonderful foresight,
that seemed inspired, and could prophesy with almost a certainty for
many years ahead. Although he was a Conservative in politics, he was
fully convinced that this should be the programme, but carried out in a
proper manner, with a rider.
"A 'DIET' FOR IRELAND.
"Tangier, Marocco, January 10th, 1886.
"Every province of Austro-Hungary (the Dual Empire which should and
will be tripled to Austro-Hungaro-Slavonian) enjoys the greatest
advisable amount of 'Home Rule' by means of its own Landstag or Diet.
The little volumes, each in the local dialect, containing the rules
and regulations for legislative procedure are broadcast over the
country; and I would especially recommend those which concern the Diet
of Istria and--a thing apart--the Diet of Trieste City to the many who
are now waxing rabid with alarm at the idea of an Irish Parliament in
the old house on College Green.
"In 1883 I undertook a detailed study of Diets in general, but first
sickness and then a decidedly more interesting work intervened.
Englishmen abroad will find such a task the reverse of unprofitable.
A certain school of politicians, which aims mainly at destroying
whatever is, and to whom an aristocrat Empire is a red rag to a
rageous bull, have ignored the fact, still true as when the saying
was first said, that if Austria did not exist she would have to be
invented. Even they may be interested to learn that the tie by which
she connects such a host of various nationalities--differing in
speech, religion, manners, customs, and interests--is the local Diet,
which satisfies the aspirations of every reasonable man to 'Home
Rule.'
"The local Diet (Landstag) offers the immense advantage of submitting
to the discussion of experts, provincial questions which, in the
shape of Bills sent up to the much overworked Imperial Parliament
(Reichstag), would be disposed of by a 'Massacre of the Innocents.'
Otherwise the great assembly in Vienna, as in London, would be placed
in a false position, which, 'like a wrong focus in photography,
distorts every object.'
"The local Diet encourages decentralization; the growing evil of
Europe being that of crowded Cities and over-populated Capitals, where
wealth may prosper but where man decidedly decays; in fact, becomes
non-viable. Hence Mandarin Tseng is reported to have said that the
strength has gone out of England; and it surely will go when we have a
greater majority of town population.
"The local Diet acts as a distributor to wealth; and we all know that
questions of self-government rest mainly on the solid base of _£ s.
d._ When absentee-landlords carry their money to, and never fail to
spend the season in, the Metropolis, reserving their economy for home
residence, local industries cannot but suffer. The provincial Diet
meets, we will say, two months before the Imperial Parliament; and
creates a kind of sub-season in the provincial Capital, which, like
Dublin and Edinburgh, never forgets that she was once a real Capital.
The deputies take their families with them, and part of the revenue
and income drawn from the land is returned to the land.
"As with us, dire consequences were predicted for Magyar Home Rule
in Pesth, and for Czech Home Rule in Prague, which would soon swamp
the German element and eat up the landlords. Now there is a notable
social resemblance between the Magyar and the Irish Kelt; nor will any
one pretend that the animosity in the sister island against foreign
rule is hotter in 1886 than was that of the Magyar against Austria in
1848-50. Yet the latter learned only moderation from Home Rule, and
he is now a loyal subject. If, however, any especial defence for the
landlord-class be temporarily necessary, this can be done by counting
acres instead of noses, till increased national prosperity, and a
sense of having had justice dealt to the people, shall allay the ill
feeling.
"The local Diet has at times proved troublesome by intermeddling
with Imperial questions; for instance in Croatia, which has produced
a Slavonian Parnell--men both to be honoured for the energy
and persistency with which they have claimed liberty for their
fellow-countrymen. But these troubles are good in one point; far
better an outburst in open air than in confinement, where the strength
of the explosion is immensely increased. In normal times the limits of
local authority are studiously kept, as they are exactly laid down,
and every member knows his competency or incompetency to lay a measure
before the House. A law officer of the Crown, appointed _ad hoc_,
attends every meeting of the local Diet, and can veto debate upon
questions beyond its legislative sphere.
"I believe that the study of these little volumes, treating upon the
local Diets of Austria, will suggest to England not only a Parliament
in Dublin, but a similar assembly in Edinburgh and in Carnarvon;
furthermore, that if they prove useful and important, as they promise
to do, England will presently be distributed into circuits or
districts, each provided with its own Diet.
"RICHARD F BURTON."
_Pall Mall Gazette_, January 18th, 1886.
"Sir Richard Burton, that extraordinary scholar, who touches no
subject that he does not illuminate, has written a letter on Home Rule
too interesting to be lost to sight. His object is to point out that
a solution of the Irish question is possibly to be found in the way
each province of Austro-Hungary enjoys the greatest advisable amount
of Home Rule by means of its own Landstag or Diet. To those 'who are
now waxing rabid with alarm at the idea of an Irish Parliament in the
old house on College Green,' he especially prescribes a study of the
Diet of Austria and the Diet of Trieste. Sir Richard Burton enumerates
three great advantages of the Diet system as it is there seen. First,
provincial questions are submitted to the discussion of experts in
the Landstag, whereas if they were simply poured into the overworked
Reichstag, they would be slaughtered almost without a hearing. Second,
the local Diet encourages decentralization, and the most evil effects
of it, the tendency of the population to concentrate itself in the
towns, and there decay. Third, the local Diet acts as a distributor
of wealth; a kind of sub-season is created in the provincial capital,
the deputies take their families there, and a proper part of the
revenue from the land returns to it again. Sir Richard Burton's
scheme is well worthy of further study, and this, he believes, will
suggest a Parliament, not only in Dublin, but also in Edinburgh and in
Carnarvon."
"A DIET FOR IRELAND.
"To the Editor of the _Morning Post_.
"Sir,--Would you kindly allow me space for a few lines by way of
postscript to my note 'A Diet for Ireland,' printed in the _Academy_
of January 16? Since that time 'a Diet' with a witness has been
proposed, and hapless Hibernia has been offered the proud position
of 'our latest colony.' But, if the 'Speak-house' in College Green
be refused, what then? Will England have the pluck to fight for the
integrity of her Empire, as did our Yankee cousins a quarter of a
century ago? Or is she so blind, as not to see that civil war is
threatened, that even civil war is better than disruption, ignominy,
ruin, and that her success would be easy, certain, and decisive?
Though no longer in the _première jeunesse_, I would willingly
shoulder a musket in such a cause, and so, doubtless, would many
myriads of my fellow-countrymen.
"Yours, etc.,
"RICHARD F BURTON.
"April 26, 1886."
[Sidenote: _Another Postscript_.]
"But," he afterwards wrote, "I should have put a rider on to the first
letter, because it only touches the political, not the religious
state of the question. Austrians and Hungarians are both more or
less Catholic, whilst England and Ireland are bitter Protestant and
bitter Catholic. It becomes no longer a political, but a religious
question. There are plenty of good, honest, loyal Irish Catholics in
Ireland, as well as good, loyal Protestants in the North of it. The
loyalty of the English Catholic is well known; the mischief lies with
the Fenian Priest, who prefers stepping into the political arena to
confining himself to the more humble and obscure calling to which he
is vowed, that of saying Mass, and administering the Sacraments to his
fold. Woe be to him! And if the Pope is properly informed, it would
take a wiser head than mine to know, why he does not excommunicate
them. No honestly minded Catholic wants to see temporal power put
into the hands of these Fenians, which might possibly lead back to
the Inquisition. When they clamour for Home Rule, it is not Home Rule
that they want, it is the education of their children. They say, 'We
want to bring up our children as good Christians and good loyalists,
but we do not want them brought up _for_ us as Materialists and
Socialists." In this I think they are right, _but the education should
be compulsory_; and if they had the spirit of a louse, or any _esprit
de corps_, and a civil tongue with decent behaviour, they would get
it. For my own part, I see no hope of a rightful sentiment until
they get a _Man_ at the helm of the British Government. When I say a
man, I understand somebody who does not care one fig for his place,
and when he does right, it is for the Nation to take him or leave
him as they like, and if there _was_ such a man, they would accept
despotism from his hands. If it were _me_, I should have my agents in
Ireland, quietly separating the goats from the sheep. I should have
my Men-of-War lying off in different places. In one single night the
goats would be seized, priest or layman, and they would be conveyed
far, far away to my Monastic jail, my Siberia, where they would be
well treated, well taken care of, and allowed their Mass and their
Sacraments; but the only ships that touched there would be provision
ships, and it would be a '_lifer_,' without any communication, by
letter or otherwise, with the outer world; and any one aiding or
abetting would be hung at the yardarm. Ireland would be quiet in a
year; peace, happiness, and _union_ restored.
"RICHARD F BURTON."
I heartily concur in every one of these sentiments. I think that
although, in 1829, Catholics were emancipated, they have never been,
during these sixty-four years, placed on an equality, even in England,
with their Protestant fellow-creatures. This is not quite right. It
shows itself more in _unnecessary_ pin-pricks, than in any large
circumstances. I will merely quote, as an example, one silly little
thing that comes in my own radius. I have a little annuity from my
father, and four times a year I am obliged to certify that I am alive.
I was ill in bed and wanted the money. So I sent for my Catholic
Priest, and asked him if he would sign it; he said certainly. In a
few days I got it back from a Government annuity office, with the
following remark, in red ink:--'We cannot take the signature of a Roman
Catholic Priest: Act 10 Geo. IV. cap. 24, special section 24.' Now,
is not this ridiculous? Canon Wenham is a gentleman and a man of the
world, who has known me for forty years, but his word cannot be taken
because he is a Catholic; so I had to wait until I was well enough to
get up, and to go out (suffering inconvenience for the want of this
money), to look for the Protestant clergyman, whom I did not _then_
happen to know, and who, when he saw me, was obliged to say, 'Are you
_really_ Lady Burton?' 'Yes! I am _really_ Lady Burton.' And _his_
word is taken because he is a Protestant! Is it not nearly time that
such utter rubbish, such absurd little insults should be repealed?
They do not hurt educated, large-minded people--they make them laugh;
but there are many classes that they _would_ hurt, and thousands of
such mosquito-stings make a big whole, and very likely _do_ affect
and _dis_affect a part of Her Majesty's subjects, who, if not baited,
would be as loyal as the Sun. If Catholics like to take a back seat,
they ought to be perfectly happy, and perhaps that is why they are so
silent; but if that is not so, I am convinced that if they were all of
one mind and one spirit, and if their grievances were represented in
a dignified and reasonable manner, what they want with regard to the
education of their children, would be conceded to them. And the Irish,
who, with educated exceptions, probably do not realize what Home Rule
and separation from England absolutely means--the uneducated, as likely
as not, think it is something to eat--will never attain their project,
by shooting English Agents and Landlords and hamstringing innocent
animals, thereby proving how unfit they are to govern themselves, or to
be invested with any power or authority.
[Sidenote: _Treatment of Catholics and Loyalty_.]
I should like to be allowed to requote a thing I have printed before
in my life. I think that it is excessively wicked of those who have
chosen to confound religion with politics, and to make it appear
unpatriotic and un-English to honour our Divine Master in our own
way, and it is doubly malignant to fasten such a stigma upon the Old
Catholic aristocracy of England. Show me loyalty like unto ours. Who
fought and bled and died? Who sacrificed their lands and wealth freely
as our ancestors did in all times, out of loyalty to their King? It is
convenient now to pander to vulgar prejudice, to taunt us with a slight
and a sneer on the smallest pretext, or without one, in the hopes of
ousting us from the Court and from the World. But wait a little; the
World's life is not yet over, and if the throne, through weak policy,
should ever totter--which may God avert from us!--we shall joyfully
go, as one man, woman, and child, with our hearts and lives, and all we
possess in our hands, as we did before, to offer it upon the altar of
our loyalty. It is no use to discuss the matter now in times of peace;
the hour, when it comes, will prove which is loyal and disloyal, which
is patriotic and unpatriotic. We will show all these men, who to-day
dare to talk of loyalty to _us_, whether "blue blood" and old faith,
or Cotton and Cant, love the throne best. I ask nothing better than
to prove it in the name of all the Old Catholics in England; and our
Pope would be the first to bless us for our loyalty. No Pope has any
temporal power in England, nor could wish or expect it. The Army would
march to-morrow wherever the Queen ordered, and fight without asking a
question, and two-thirds of it is Catholic.
The late Lord Gerard, who had the honour of being A.D.C. to the Queen,
and who was the rigidest of all rigid Catholics, said, when the
question was first raised, though he was an old man, "By ----! the
man who tells me that I am not loyal, had better be a couple of stone
heavier than I am!" We are still brought up with the old-fashioned
loyalty, as if it were a part of our religion, and we are ready to
do as we did before when our Sovereign needs us. We should almost as
soon think of going into our church and tearing the cross down off
the altar, as of showing any disrespect, presumption, disloyalty, or
indifference to our Queen or her family, much less treachery. And in
the name of all ancient Catholic England, I throw my glove down to
those who accuse us of it, be they who they may. I do not pretend to
know anything about our converts--I have been too long away--but my own
people, we who have been Catholics from all time, "render to Cæsar the
things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things that are God's."
I once heard a story of a lieutenant in some regiment, who was
honest, steady, and quiet, full of sterling qualities; but he was
dull, reserved, religiously inclined, or less brilliant than his
brother-officers. They laughed at him, and associated but little with
him. He was well born, but poor, and without interest; so he remained
without, in the cold shade, both as to promotion and the warmth and
cheerfulness of friendship and society. But he never complained; he
lived on and did his best.
Then at last came the Crimean War. A battery was to be taken; and
the guns were so well pointed at this particular regiment, which
was the storming party, that they were forced to give way. But, in
hopes of rallying his own company, this young fellow passed all his
brother-officers with a laugh. He flung his shako before him, and,
sword in hand, rushed through a breach into the battery, followed
by his handful. They never came out again. At the mess that night
there was not a man but who wished he had better understood his
brother-officer. They now remembered a thousand good qualities and
incidents that ought to have endeared him to them, and they vainly
tried to recall any little kindness that they had shown him. All felt
ashamed of the contempt with which they had treated one in every
respect their superior. Of that stuff we are made, and when the
occasion comes we will prove it.
1886.
I was to have started, by Richard's orders, soon, but I got a telegram
from him saying there was cholera, and that I could get no quarantine
at Gibraltar, and should not be allowed to land. But I at once
telegraphed to Sir John Adye, who was then commanding at Gibraltar, and
asked if he would allow a Government boat to take me off the P. and
O. and put me straight on the Marocco boat; and received a favourable
answer, to my great relief. I wanted to get to Richard for our silver
wedding.
At last the business for which I was left behind permitted me to start,
and I wished my dear father good-bye, as my husband had done; but,
though I left with a great misgiving, I entertained a strong hope that
I should see him again--as the doctors assured me I should. I went down
to Gravesend, and embarked on one of the floating palaces, the P. and
O. _Ballarat_. The Bay was bad, and I was delighted with the pluck of
my Italian maid Lisa, who had never been at sea before. Her eyes got
bigger and bigger as she looked through the closed porthole, and she
kept saying, "There is such a big one (wave); we _must_ go down this
time." She would hardly believe my laughing and saying, "Oh no, you
won't! You will float like a duck over it in a minute--we always do
that here." The amusing part was her scorn of the Triestines when she
got back, when she used to say, "Sea! do you call _that_ a sea? Why,
the waves are no bigger than the river in England."
About four days from England the weather was delightful. We steamed
into "Gib." at seven a.m. Richard came off in a boat, wearing a fez,
and Captain Baker kindly came for me also with a Government launch,
into which Richard changed. We called on Sir John Adye to thank him,
and on a great many other friends, and we went to S. Rocca. We had a
delightful dinner at Sir John Adye's, and met everybody.
I was very glad to arrive at Gibraltar, and to be with Richard, for
in my opinion he did not look at all well, being very puffy in the
face, and exceedingly low-spirited; but he got better and better, as he
always did as soon as he was with me.[1]
[Sidenote: _We winter in Marocco--Richard made a K.C.M.G_.]
On the 5th of February, 1886, a very extraordinary thing happened--it
was a telegram addressed "Sir Richard Burton." He tossed it over to
me and said, "Some fellow is playing me a practical joke, or else it
is not for me. I shall not open it, so you may as well ring the bell
and give it back again." "Oh no!" I said; "I _shall_ open it if you
don't." So it was opened. It was from Lord Salisbury, conveying in
the kindest terms that the Queen, at his recommendation, had made him
K.C.M.G. in reward for his services. He looked very serious and quite
uncomfortable, and said, "Oh! I shall not accept it." I said, "You had
better accept it, Jemmy, because it is a certain sign that they are
going to give you the place" (Tangier, Marocco).
On the 28th of January, having been co-founder and President of
the Anthropological Institute, he was now made Vice-president, in
consequence of being always absent abroad.
This is the account he gives of Tangier in his journal:--
"It is by no means a satisfactory place for an Englishman. The harbour
town was in the same condition as Suez was during the first quarter
of the nineteenth century; and it was ruled by seven diplomatic
kinglets, whose main, if not sole, work or duty was for each and
every one to frustrate any scheme of improvement, or proposal made
by any colleague or rival ruler. The capabilities of the place
were enormous, the country around was a luxuriant waste awaiting
cultivation, and all manner of metals, noble and ignoble, abounded in
the adjacent mountains--the maritime Atlas. The first necessity was
a railroad connecting the seaboard with Fez, the capital; but even
a telegraph wire to Gibraltar, although a concession was known to
have been issued, had not been laid, apparently because the rate of
progress would have been too rapid. The French were intriguing for a
prolongation of the Algerine railways; the Spanish sought possession
of one or two more ports, as a basis of operations. The Italians kept
their keen eyes ever open for every chance. Even Portugal remembered
his Camoens, and his predictions about this part of the world.
The Germans were setting all by the ears, and we English confined
ourselves to making the place a market for supplying Tommy Atkins with
beef. The climate in winter is atrocious for one seeking dry desert
air. More than once it has rained three days without intermission;
once it has snowed. Tangier is but the root of a land-tongue
projecting north between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean,
hence both east wind and west wind are equally disagreeable. It
is a Sommer-Frisch for Gibraltar; briefly, it is a Desert within
cannon-shot of Civilization."
We crossed over to Marocco in the _Jebel Tarik_, and a very curious
journey it was. It was a flat-bottomed cattle tug, only fit for a
river. The sea was exceedingly heavy. The machinery stopped, they said,
for want of oil; seas washed right over, and she rolled right round in
the water, so that it was a passage of five hours instead of two. It
actually snowed--a thing that the natives had never seen within the
memory of man, and quite alarmed them. The Sharífah called on me; she
was the Englishwoman who married the Sheríf some years ago.
We made delightful excursions both in Marocco and about Gibraltar. We
saw a great deal of Sir John and Lady Drummond-Hay, who was a very
sweet woman, and their charming daughter, Miss Alice Drummond-Hay. We
thought the Embassy a miserable little house, after the Palazzone at
Trieste. The streets were muddy and dirty, all uphill, all horribly
stony, like Khaifa. I thought the people in Tangier itself, looked
poor, miserable, dirty, diseased, and trodden down, and you must go out
very far to find anything like a fine race. After Damascus, and all the
other Eastern places I had seen, I thought it horrid, and was sorely
disappointed--I had heard it so raved about; but I would willingly have
lived there, and put out all my best capabilities, if my husband could
have got the place that he wanted, and for which I had employed every
bit of interest we had on his side or mine to obtain, but in vain. I
sometimes now think that it was better so, and that he would not have
lived so long, had he had it, for he was decidedly breaking up. The
climate did not appear to be the one that suited him, and the anxiety
and responsibilities of the post might have hurried on the catastrophe
that happened in the following year, 1887. It was for the honour of the
thing, and we saw for ourselves how uneasy a crown it would be.
He remarks in his journal--
"My wife and I left the foul harbour-town, the 'Home of Dulness,'
and passed a pleasant week at the 'Rock,' enjoying the hospitable
society of our fellow-countrymen. I failed in certain _pour-parlers_
concerning the treasure-ship sunk in Vigo Bay. The officer who claimed
to know the true position was unduly cautious, and the right was his,
more than mine. I endeavoured, but again in vain, to excite some local
interest in the ruins of Karteia, the Biblical Tarshish, famed for
ships. A local antiquary had made a charming collection of statuettes,
and other works of Greek art, by scraping the tumuli which line the
two banks of the Guadarrangua, _alias_ First River, and which now
represent the magnificent docks described by Strabo. He could not but
remark the utter inadequacy of the defences, so famed throughout the
civilized world. Fifty years ago they might have been sufficient,
but now they have fallen long behind the age, and could not defend
themselves against a single ironclad. The fact is now generally
recognized.
[Sidenote: _A Bad Hurricane at Sea_.]
"We embarked in ugly weather on board the Cunarder s.s. _Saragossa_;
she was a staunch old craft, but heavily top-laden with timber and
iron works for a dock at Puzzuoli: the beams lashed and clamped to
the bulwarks, and the metal loosely stowed away below. A rapidly
falling barometer, a wind changing to every quarter, and a fearfully
stormy sky, warned us that a full gale was raging in the Gulf of
Lyons; it should be called the 'Lion's Gulf.' The sailors explain
this in their own way. As in the Suez sea-jinns have been jailed, so
here evil spirits have been laid by the priests, who, however, cannot
boast of success in preventing their doing terrible damage. Huge
seas washed over the deck, the galley was swamped, and there was a
whisper that the boats were being prepared. However, in thirty hours
the squall blew itself out, and the _Saragossa_, with a nasty cant to
starboard, steamed into the fine new port of Genoa, self-styled the
Serpent. After two days' rest, the cargo being reorganized, the good
ship resumed her way, and passing by Ischia, where the ruins of the
earthquake were dreadful to look upon, landed us at Naples.
"The old saying, 'Vedi Napoli e poi morir,' has now assumed a new and
fatal significance; bad drainage has bred typhus fever, which has made
the Grand Hotels along the shore the homes of death. We had time to
pay a visit to Pompeii, which since my time is utterly cockneyfied. In
olden days you engaged a carriage and a guide, and passed in and out
of the ruins just as you pleased. Now there are barriers and tolls,
and taxes, licenced _ciceroni_, and Cockney inn crowded with ruffianly
drivers. Inside the _enceinte_, prudishness reigned supreme, and
wooden doors are closed in the face of all feminines, before certain
frescoes. My wife found an object in a church in which she had for
many years interested herself, Our Lady of the Rosary of Pompeii, a
rich basilica erected on the site of a pagan temple.
[Sidenote: _I have Another Fall_.]
"At Naples, my wife, having had a bad fall through the washing away
of the ladder between the upper and lower decks, had hurt herself
terribly. She was already not well enough to risk any shaking, when,
to my horror, I saw something which I took to be a large feather
pillow roll lightly into the timbers below. I saw several people rush
to pick it up, and, to my horror, found it was my wife. She seemed
stunned for a minute, and then she was so frightened that I should be
uneasy, that she just shook herself and said she was all right; but
at Naples it was evident that she had damaged herself, so that when
our time was up I made her continue her journey by land, whilst I, who
thoroughly enjoyed the sea, rejoined the ship."
Whilst we were there, the Italian Minister came in in proper style in
an Italian frigate, with eighteen guns salute from the ship, and the
fortress answering. We received a great deal of hospitality in Tangier,
which we enjoyed very much. The _Grappler_, Captain Cochrane, came
over, and Colonel (now General) Buckle, commanding the Royal Artillery
at Gibraltar. All good things come to an end, and the day came round
to recross to Gib., but this time in a Trans-atlantique, and Captain
Baker again kindly sent a Government launch to meet us, as it was very
rough. We immediately called on Sir John and Lady Adye, Lord and Lady
Gifford, and Colonel Buckle. We made acquaintance with a quantity of
nice people, found Sir Allen Young there, and enjoyed a very charming
week. On departure, Captain Baker kindly took us in his launch to our
ship, the Cunard (for Mediterranean) _Saragossa_, Captain Tutt.
We did not like the cabin, nor the ship, nor the food; it was regularly
roughing it _for invalids_. There was no doctor, a disobliging
stewardess, no baths, very little water to wash with, one towel. No
resort for bad weather; you had either to lie in your berth, or sit
bolt upright in the saloon. No room to walk because of the cargo, as we
were laden with iron and wood for a pier at Puzzuoli, near Naples; and
besides the hold being full, the deck was also full, and it was even
lashed to the sides. There was no ventilation below, because it was bad
weather.
We had a first-rate captain and nice officers, and they and the
boy-stewards did all they could to make us comfortable. As our cabin
was over the screw, three gentlemen good-naturedly changed with us.
Now, there was a new moon and an eclipse, and bad weather sprung up in
the night. There was a tremendous nor'-wester in the Gulf of Lyons; the
galley was swamped, heavy seas swept over us every minute, the iron
cargo got loose in the hold and was rolling about, and we had an ugly
slant to starboard--in fact, one's cabin was all uphill.
Richard was knocked down twice, and had a very heavy fall on head and
forehead and shins. The coal-bunks caught fire, we shipped seas into
the saloon, and it seemed at one time as if the boat on the port side
would come into the saloon skylight. I shall never forget his kindness
and tenderness to me in that gale.
If the cargo of timber lashed to the sides had behaved ill, it would
have torn away the bulwarks, and bumped a hole in the ship. The captain
was thirty hours on the bridge, and I never saw a man look so used-up
as he did next day; and how relieved he was--and we all were--when we
came into Genoa, looking in an awful plight! We knew that they would
stay there a bit, and we bolted at once for the hotel. One never
forgets the good bath and bed and the clean food that greets one on
these occasions. Sailors always say that some priest, in exorcising a
devil, has laid him in the Gulf of Lyons, and from that time forth I
have believed it.
We had a delightful forty-eight hours at Genoa, excepting that I went
to call on a very dear old friend, and found that she had died, and
that I had never heard of it; and, to my great surprise, who should
I see mooning about but Miss Alice Bird (Dr. Bird's sister, of 49,
Welbeck Street, our great friends), and I carried her off at once
to the hotel, and thence to the ship to see us depart, as we had to
continue our journey. It was blowing very hard when we arrived at
Leghorn. Richard had caught cold, so we did not go ashore, but amused
ourselves with buying the pretty alabaster rubbish that peddlers bring
on board. Half of the companion ladder between the upper and lower deck
had been washed away, and I, being unaware of it, got a heavy fall
amongst the timber and hurt myself.
[Sidenote: _Naples_.]
It was fearfully cold, blowing off bleak snow mountains. We were
delighted with Vesuvius, throwing up flames, and streams of red lava
pouring down her sides. We went at once to a hotel, and went over to
Pompeii, which we enjoyed immensely. We found Lady Otway there, made
acquaintance with all the Society, and saw everything in and about
Naples. My fall had hurt me so much that Richard would not let me go on
in the ship from Naples to Trieste.
He writes: "It was rather fun in Genoa. Because I wore my fez,
everybody took me for part of the Carnival, and followed me."
Before we left, it being the King's birthday, there was a march past
our hotel of all the soldiers and sailors. The sailors were good, but
the rest sadly defective and slipshod. We went to Puzzuoli, from where
the steamer sailed. The ship went to Palermo, Messina, Catania, came
along the Dalmatian coast, and, after a very peaceful journey of a
week, reached Trieste. I went by rail to Rome, and I do not wish for a
worse train than that between Naples and Rome, nor more disagreeable
railway officials than those I found at Naples.
As I arrived late, and did not count my change, I lost eighteen francs,
and three of my boxes were kept back from Jack-in-office reasons. At
Rome I waited in the station for three hours to get another train, and
was delighted to get into an Austrian train with a good bed and a civil
conductor. I arrived in Florence next morning, where I did some more
mediæval Italy that day and part of the next, and in the evening got on
to Bologna for the same object. I then arrived at Trieste, on the 20th
of March, with a very unpleasant journey, and, as there was a cholera
scare, met with a great deal of visiting of baggage and fumigation.
I arrived at ten in the evening, and was accustomed to be met by a
crowd of friends, and was surprised at finding that there was no one to
meet me; but when I got into our house, three telegrams were handed to
me that had not reached me. The first was, "Father very ill--can you
come?" the second was, "Father died to-day;" the third, "Father buried
to-day at Mortlake" (yesterday). I then understood that everybody knew
it, and had kindly desisted on account of what would have been my grief
had I known. It was a severe blow, and I felt it very much, for I had
not expected it. I was thus in Trieste three days before Richard, and
was able to go on board and receive him.
On the 25th, the English, headed by Mr. P. P. Cautley and Mr. Salvari,
our first and second Vice-Consuls, presented us with a beautiful cup
for our silver wedding.
Richard notes in his journal (as we at once paid a visit to Duino
Opçina), "Andrino" (my little god-child, whom I saved in former years
as a babe) "is dead, the setter Fazan is given away, Brownie the
donkey is sold. I shall not now care so much to go to Opçina; all my
amusements are taken away."
On the 10th of April he began his "Terminal Essay," and vol. viii. was
sent home. We went to a very nice Assault of Arms; that was a thing we
never neglected.
He writes--
"In May, my wife and I had a pleasant change, being invited by our
colleague, Mr. Faber, H.B.M.'s Consul for Fiume, to visit his castle
Schloss Sternstein, near Cilli, in Steiermark. We found a modern
building, which had superseded the ancient feudal château, whence the
old legend of a Styrian Romeo and Juliet has not wholly faded. We
enjoyed the society of Mr. and Mrs. Faber, who are hospitality itself,
and amused ourselves with their numerous and beautiful children; and
last, but not least, the simple German life and perfect rest and
liberty were exceedingly refreshing. My wife and I went to look at
an old mill, with cottage attached, to see if we could make that our
future cottage."
We stopped at Cilli on the way back, and thence to Trieste. We had
constantly at home many people who came in to lunch and dinner, as it
was our one time off work, and people knew it was our great pleasure
and chose that hour for coming to see us. The family from Duino, the
Princesses Hohenlöhe, and the Princess Taxis, whenever they came into
town to do commissions, used to take their breakfast with us _en
route_. A great part of the summer we used to sit under one particular
shady lime tree, whose branches almost form a tent, and there were
benches and tables arranged under it. We used to call it "our tree."
Frequently, when we were in all the bustle of London, perhaps driving
in the City to publishers, he would say, "Our tree is out beautifully
now. Are you regretting it?" I would answer him, "No; _my_ tree is
wherever _you_ are." And he would add, "That is awfully sweet of you."
We were not always paying each other compliments. He used to pay them
to some women, but I hardly ever got any, so that I treasured up the
few; but what he did say, meant a great deal. When he used to go out
to convivial parties of men, where the generality of ladies were not
asked, and he would come back late in the small hours, he would tell
me all about it, and then he would say, "But what a horrible desert it
would be, if I had not got _you_ to come back to!"
He here notices the death of Mr. White-Cooper, F.R.G.S., the eminent
oculist, with whom and his wife (Lady Cooper) we were on the most
friendly terms. He was now working at the ninth volume of the "Nights."
POLITICS.
[Sidenote: _The Great Chinese Move_.]
A man's politics and a man's religion are supposed to be two very
prominent features in his character. I therefore give you a _résumé_ of
Richard's politics in the Appendices (E). Now, being in an official
position, he never was able to express his opinions very freely, and
what I give you, though they were actually written by me, and published
by me in various books and pamphlets, were what I _learnt_ from my
husband, as _I learnt everything that I know from him_. To him I owe
all the education that I have received. I consider that he _made_ me,
so to speak, and whatever little publicity or fame have been accorded
to me by those who know me, I owe it entirely to him. In one part of
his politics you will see that he strongly advocated an alliance with
China; and I am sure that Mr. G. H---- will have no objection to my
publishing the letters he wrote me in 1886, praising me for what I
wrote, that I may give the honour where it is due, to Richard. Richard
has been consulted over and over again by different Governments; he
has given his knowledge and suggestions freely, and they have often
been carried out, but have never in one single instance been publicly
acknowledged in any way, and scarcely thanked for privately.
"December 6th, 1886.
"DEAR LADY BURTON,
"Of course you will recollect sending me a presentation copy of your
work, 'Arabia, Egypt, and India,' with
'To G. H.,
a grateful souvenir
from Isabel Burton,'
written on the title-page.... Well, I want you to send me another, as
the other is out of my possession. Thus--
"In reading it I had been much struck with the chapter, 'A Peep into
the Future of North-Western India,' and especially with the last
forty-seven lines, as containing a proper solution of our difficulties
with Russia.
"I took the liberty of marking pages 394 and 395, and sending the
book to Lord Salisbury twelve to fifteen months ago, during his short
administration before the present one, and I asked him, if _what Mrs.
Burton said was true_, whether an arrangement with China would not
free us in the future from all the bother with Russia--and, if he
thought so, would he not do it at once? I received an answer. Now, in
_three or four weeks_ after I sent it, _I saw in the papers_ that _we_
had entered into an alliance, offensive and defensive, with China, in
case of a war with Russia, and since then the collapse of Russia's
pretensions, and _our_ own power in future, to remain in the _van of
civilization_ as we list, without fear, are matters of history.
"It is surprising how _plainly_ people see things _when they are
once pointed out_. I believe you pointed it out at the right moment,
and that I was a small instrument in the matter of getting it
accomplished. And who shall say that a greater stroke of policy was
ever accomplished? Its consequences are far-reaching indeed.
"My brother-in-law, Major ---- of the ---- Regiment, whose regiment is
stationed in India, although he is home on furlough, considers it a
masterpiece of strategy, looking at the position we were in. However,
let that pass; it is not the only good you have done, and I'll be
bound to say are doing, in the world now.
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H----.
"P.S.--How are the donkeys, horses, and the other animals you took
under your protection in Trieste getting on? I often wonder. If you
have time, please read pages 394 and 395 of your book, commencing,
'But our highest prospect,' etc."
* * * * *
"14th December, 1886.
"MY DEAR LADY BURTON,
"I am much pleased by receiving your note and hearing from you once
again.
"I enclose a copy of the two pages to which I called Lord Salisbury's
attention, and you will say yourself, looking at the words in the
light of subsequent events--to say nothing of the present position--it
is hard to say what influence these words have had on the present and
future of the whole world.
"England's arm was paralyzed, and has _been for some time_, by the
nightmare and bugbear of Russia. Bismarck, to clear himself and his
own country, had been pointing _Russia to India_; but when _this_
occurred, and it became clear that at last we had secured ourselves
in India by this Chinese alliance, Russian bother at Afghanistan's
frontier ceased. Germany hastened to offer thirty-five millions loan
to China. France stopped her war and sent a deputation after the
German with proposals for trade, and Russia at Merv, and France at
Tonquin, were both paralyzed and powerless for harm. Burmah was taken
and our future secured, and, what is more, England was again free to
declare, as Lord Salisbury did at the last Mansion House banquet, that
if any of England's interests are imperilled, her own right arm is
quite powerful enough to right them at once, without assistance from
any European Power.
"Without this arrangement with China dared he to have said so? No!
However, whatever the facts are, one thing is certain, that what has
happened is for the best.
"I hope you will get the pension.[2] If you think I could do anything
towards it I will gladly try, so long as _I am not doing any harm_
by interfering. I ought to say I sent the book to Mr. Gladstone two
months before I sent it to Lord Salisbury, when Gladstone was in. He
returned it. I suppose the reference to Gordon was too much for him.
Of course he may have initiated what Lord Salisbury carried out with
China.
"With kind regards, believe me
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H----."
* * * * *
"31st January, 1887.
"MY DEAR LADY BURTON,
"I enclose you a little scrap from to-day's paper about Germany and
China. The jealousy shown all round by the different Powers since our
agreement with the latter one, is clear proof what a great thing _they
think it is for us_. One thing is certain, that those two pages of
yours have done more to '_make history_,' as it is called, than many
wars could do, and without blood-shedding. The more I think of it,
and the more I view the convulsion which must come very soon from all
these armed men, the more I am satisfied that it is a grand thing for
Lord Salisbury that, having India secure, he can now do as he feels he
can best secure the future in accordance with the spirit of our old
traditions.
"With kindest regards, believe me
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H----.
"P.S.--I conclude you received the _Asiatic Review_ article _in Paris_
by the Marquis Tseng. I sent it there to you."
* * * * *
"June 28th, 1887.
"MY DEAR LADY BURTON,
"I have not heard one word from you or any one else since the
earthquake, and have often wondered what had become of you, and how
you fared.
"What a time you had! much worse than any one would think who had
not himself known and seen in others what _a serious matter nervous
suffering is_.
"As to the Government, they might have given Sir Richard the pension.
However, if it's not done when you return, I would stick to them for
it. They can well afford it, for they are having a grand innings
through this China business. Even the French papers say how cleverly
Lord Salisbury has managed by playing off China against Russia.
"I am satisfied that will be the chief road in future to India, Japan,
and China, _re_ Liverpool to Halifax, Canadian Pacific to Vancouver,
and steam over the Pacific.
"It will beat the Suez Canal; but Lord Salisbury has got quit of
the _Russian periodical scares_, which was the great thing, and all
through you.
"Give my kindest regards to your husband, and believe me always,
"Yours sincerely,
"G. H----."
The paragraph in my book above alluded to, was as follows:--
"But our highest prospect of happy deliverance from this terrible
northern rival (Russia) is still to be noticed; and that so little
attention has been paid to it by our writers, is not a little
astonishing to the student. In Russia it must have caused a vast
amount of anxious thought; and it readily explains the cautious system
of her approaches, parallels, and encroachments in the East; her
provisional system of indirect until ready for direct rule over her
new conquests; her strategic lines of observation and demonstration;
and her carefully disposed apparatus of supports, reserves, and
bases of operations. _Nolens volens_, will-we nill-we, Russia must
eventually absorb Kashgar; she must meet China face to face, and then
her serious troubles begin.
"The dash of Tartar blood in Russian veins establishes a remote
cousinhood with China. There is something of physical, and more of
moral, likeness between the two peoples. Both are equally sturdy,
hardy, frugal, energetic, persistent, aggressive, and brave in facing
death. Both have a national speech, a peculiar alphabet, and, to go
no further, a religion which distinguishes them from the rest of the
world. Both are animated by the sturdy vigour of a newly awakened
civilization. During the war of 1842 we facetiously said that it
was rank murder to attack the Chinese troops with any missiles but
oranges. Presently the Ever-Victorious Army led by Gordon, one of
England's noblest and best neglected sons, showed the might that was
slumbering in a nation of three hundred millions.
"And now China is preparing herself, with that slow but terrible
steadfastness of purpose which distinguishes her, to exercise her
influence upon the civilized world,--upon the other three-fourths
which compose the sum of humanity. After a hundred checks and defeats
she has utterly annihilated the intrusive Mohammedan schism which
attempted to establish its independence in Yunnan. She will do the
same in Kashgar, although the dilatoriness of her proceedings,
unintelligible to the Western mind, tends to create a false feeling of
security. She is building a fleet and rolling her own plates. Her army
is being drilled by Europeans; the men are armed with Remingtons, and
she has six manufactories for breech-loading rifles. Securely cautious
of her coming strength, she declines all little wars with England and
France, till another dozen years or so shall enable her to meet her
enemies on terms which, forecasted in 1842, would have appeared the
very madness of prophecy.
"Such is the nation which is fated to contend with Russia for the
glorious empire of Central Asia. This is the power which our Press and
its teachers have agreed to ignore. In the coming struggle we shall
see the direct result of the Crimean War, and then, perhaps, we may
reap the reward of sacrifices and losses which hitherto have added
little to our honour or to our power."
[Sidenote: _We get Leave again to England_.]
He writes--
"On the 5th of June we left again for England, as I was obliged to
consult a particular manuscript, which would supply two volumes of
my supplemental 'Arabian Nights.' The route lay through Krain or
Carniola, with its queer little capital Laibach."
We made a ten days' delightful journey to England. At Krainberg began
the beautiful scenery, hills and dales, grey stone, sheets of snow,
pines, wheat-fields and cattle below, clouds and rain above, with a
burst of sunlight through, the river rushing by us, the peaks of the
Triglav in the clouds, the railway three thousand feet high. We were
both delighted and glad we came. Loads of Sunday people in costume
filled the stations till we got on to Villach. There is nothing like
the Austrian Tyrol for lovely scenery, which begins at Krainberg,
becomes perfect at Tarvis, and declines at Lienz. The Drau is a nice
river before it marries the Danube; it is brisk and full of life.
At Villach the scenery and the gorges of the Drau were dressed in
rainbow suit, mist and sunshine together. Lienz was very charming; we
took a very great fancy to it, and from hence went on to Toblach, which
opens into the magnificent gorge of the Cortina d'Ampezzo, which leads
to the Dolomites. This time we were not so stupid as to go to the big
Hôtel Toblach, because we were ill-treated last time; so we came to
the Gasthof Ampezzo, rough but comfortable, with good native cooking,
and a beautiful view up the valley of Ampezzo, where we had _Forellen_
(the mountain trout), good black cock, and excellent wine (_Offner_).
Then we went on to Innsbrück. We had one of those _Aussichtswagen_
at the end of the train, all of glass, so that you can see the view,
which was delightful, crossing the Brenner. The Brenner was full of
snow amphitheatres, deep gorges, firs in spring suits, and tower-shaped
rocks. The heat was very great; there are seventeen tunnels on this
crossing, some as long as four or five minutes. Dull old Innsbrück was
reached at last, where one feels as if the clouds were resting on the
top of one's head.
Innsbrück has a good hotel (Europa), but ridiculously dear. Here we
found some old Trieste friends, Baron and Baroness von Puthon, _née_
Comtesse de Bombelles; so we decided to pass a whole day at Innsbrück,
and to go on to Bâle the following day. Here in the Cathedral are the
bronze antique statues of the Imperialties of Austria from earliest
times, which I have before mentioned. We left the next day, and went
through the Arlberg tunnel, running through a most picturesque country.
The carriages are high and good, the ventilation excellent. Landeck
is the last station before entering the tunnel--it occupies eighteen
minutes by the express--and Arlberg is the station at which you come
out. The tunnel is lighted by a lamp at every mile. In going through
the Arlberg Richard remarked that the ground was rotten, and later
on this was more than confirmed. Feldkirch is the last Austrian, and
Bocks is the first Swiss station. The road is pretty, but not equal
to the other passes. The train then runs all along the lakes until
Zurich, after which the country is very common till Bâle. The Euler
is an old-fashioned but good hotel close to the Bâle station. We now
went in for a nineteen hours' journey by express from Bâle to Boulogne
and Folkestone--baggage is visited on the frontier at Delle. The train
_had wagon-lits_, but it shook and lurched as if the carriages were
very badly coupled. We stayed at Folkestone, as usual, to see Richard's
sister and niece, and found the local Exhibition going on.
In London we simply resumed our work of a few months before. Richard
attended the _levée_ on the 25th. He notices some pleasant dinners that
were given to us by Mr. Christie, and the poet Mr. St. Clair Baddeley
at Albert Mansions, at Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft's, where we met the Oscar
Wyldes, and lots of other pleasant people.
My so-called edition of the "Arabian Nights" was now being brought
out. It was a very melancholy time for me, my father being dead, and
we were, as is usual, dividing the property, packing up, and breaking
up the old home, which had been our refuge on all the holidays of our
married life.
[Sidenote: _Oxford_.]
He wrote--
"Arrived in London, we had to realize the blow that had befallen us.
The good old father, Henry Raymond Arundell, had quietly passed away,
little short of eighty-seven, and we met to dine and drink a silent
toast to his memory on his eighty-seventh birthday; the home, which
had been the family _point de réunion_ since 1861, was now to be
given up. This house was the link that held the family together, and
once separated, people hardly ever reunite upon the same terms. All
will understand how painful are such final breakings-up. On returning
home, nothing so saddens the heart of the exile as the many empty
chairs round the table. After a few visits to country houses, we found
ourselves compelled to make sundry trips to Oxford. I had already
memorialized the vice-chancellor and the curators of the Bodleian
Library for the loan of the Wortley Montagu manuscripts of the
'Arabian Nights.' Not a private loan, but a temporary transference to
the India Office under the charge of that excellent librarian, Dr. R.
Rost. This led to the usual long delays, and finally, on November 1st,
came a distinct refusal, which was the more offensive because a loan
had been lately made to another applicant, an Anglo-Indian coloured
subject. The visits were essentially unpleasant. The Bodleian is the
model of what a reading library should _not_ be, and the contrast of
its treasures with their mean and miserable surroundings is a scandal.
In autumn the University must be closed at three p.m., lights not
being allowed; the student must transfer himself to its Succursale,
the Ratcliffe, which as a _salle de lecture_ is even worse. The
'Rotunda' is damp in the wet season, stuffy during the summer heats,
and the cave of Eolus in windy weather. Few students except the
youngest and strongest can endure its changeable nerve-depressing
atmosphere. Nor did Oxford show well in point of climate; the air
is malarious, and the resolute neglect of sanitation is a serious
obstacle to students at this so-called Seat of Learning. Moreover,
the ancient University had now become a mere collection of finishing
schools, or rather a huge board for the examination of big boys and
girls.
"The old Alma Mater had always been to me a _durissima noverca_.
Although the late Mr. Chandler, of Pembroke College, had stoutly
opposed all lending of Bodleian books and manuscripts, he thoroughly
sympathized with me, and he said to my wife, 'Who could have foreseen,
when opposing all loans and laying down laws to limit the facilities
of students, that directly afterwards Richard Burton would turn up and
want an Arabic manuscript, a manuscript, moreover, which no man in the
University can read, although it boasts of two Arabic professors?'
"It was in vain to seek for a copyist at Oxford, and those who offered
themselves in London I found by no means satisfactory. At last my wife
hit upon the bright idea of photographing the pages required, and
imparted her idea to Mr. Chandler, and Chandler thought it was a most
valuable hint to the University. He not only carried it out, but he
insisted on bearing all the expenses himself, despite my earnest wish
to do so. The University should be grateful for this solution of the
question. Books are now no longer lent, but photographs can always be
obtained."
[Sidenote: _His Last Appeal to Government_.]
On the 1st of July we went to a party at Mr. and Mrs. Oscar Wylde's,
and there Richard met a man with whom he used to play chess thirty-five
years ago. Richard arrived at playing three games blindfold; but
after he left the Army he gave it up, because he wanted his brain for
other things. I have already said that Richard, after his recall from
Damascus, never tried but for four things. He wanted to be made a
K.C.B. in 1875, and I exerted myself very much, in writing to all the
Ministers and getting it backed up by all our big friends (some fifty),
and again in 1878; but it was refused. He wanted to be Commissioner
for the Slave Trade in 1880. He then asked for Marocco in 1885, which
we considered was as good as promised; and on the 2nd of July, 1886,
we had the mortification of finding that Lord Rosebery had given it
away to Mr. (afterwards Sir) William Kirby-Green. Richard said on
hearing it, in his usual generous way, "Next to getting it one's self,
the best thing is to know that a friend and a good man has got it;"
but when he came home and told me, he said, "There is no rise for me
_now_, and I don't _want_ anything; but I have worked forty-four years
for _nothing_. I am breaking up, and I want to go free." So this year
(1886) we occupied ourselves in entreating the Ministry to allow him to
retire on his pension four years before his time. It was backed up by
the usual forty-seven or fifty big names, and it was not _pretence_ in
_any_ of the _three cases; they did write,_ but it was _refused_. One
Minister, in friendly chaff, wrote and said, "We don't want to annex
Marocco, and we know that you two would be Emperor and Empress in about
six months."
THE LAST APPEAL.
"23, Dorset Street, Portman Square, London, W.,
"October, 1886.
"I have represented to Lord Salisbury and to the Minister for Foreign
Affairs, Lord Iddesleigh, that after passing fourteen years and a
half in an unwholesome post, I find that the climate of Trieste, as a
constant residence, undermines my health, and incapacitates me from
work; also that I have not had the promotion which would encourage
me to hope, nor do I see a prospect of any post which I could accept
with profit to the public and pleasure to myself. I have therefore
come to the determination, after forty-four years and a half in the
public service (nineteen years in the Indian Army, and in the Consular
Service twenty-five years and a half, which counts as thirty years, on
account of eight to nine years in officially dangerous climates), to
request that I may retire, at the age of sixty-five, on full pension,
but to retain my post until such arrangement be made. I represented
that if there were a difficulty from the Treasury, to make up full
Consular pension, perhaps their lordships might recommend my services
to the Civil List, on the ground of literary and linguistic labours
and services. I do not wish to be so tedious as to quote all my
services, but I venture to note a few of the facts which would seem
to suggest my claims to some unusual consideration on the part of her
Majesty's Government, and which I venture to say will obtain the
approval of the public at large. I am about to ask you whether you
will give me the great benefit of your support and good word on this
occasion with Lord Salisbury, and my Chief, Lord Iddesleigh, who will
have the decision of my case.
"I am,
"RICHARD F BURTON."
Here is the modest list, which does not contain half of what he did
during his life of seventy years--
"SERVICES.
"(1) Served nineteen years in the Bombay Army, nearly ten years on
active service, chiefly on the staff of Sir Charles Napier, on the
Sind Survey, at the close of the Afghan War, 1842-49. In 1861 was
compelled to leave, without pay or pension, by Sir Charles Wood, for
accepting the Consulship of Fernando Po.
"(2) Served in the Crimea as Chief of the Staff of Bashi-Bazouk
(Irregular Cavalry), and was chiefly instrumental in organizing it.
"(3) Was the author of the Bayonet exercise now used at the
Horseguards.
"(4) Have made several difficult and dangerous expeditions or
explorations in unknown parts; notably, the pilgrimage to Mecca and
Medinah, and afterwards to Harar, now opened up to Europeans, and
the discovery and opening up of the Lake Regions of Central Africa,
and the sources of the Nile, a country now well known to trade, to
missionaries, and schoolmasters.
"(5) Have been twenty-five years and a half in the Consular Service,
eight to nine years in official bad climates.
"(6) Was sent in 1864, as H.M.'s Commissioner, to the King of Dahomé,
and resided with him for three months.
"(7) Was recalled at a moment's notice from Damascus, under a
misrepresentation, and suffered heavy pecuniary losses thereby. My
conduct was at last formally approved by the Government, but no
compensation was given.
"(8) Was sent in 1882 in quest of the unfortunate Professor Palmer and
his companions, who were murdered by the Bedawi.
"(9) Have learnt twenty-nine languages, passed official examinations
in eight Eastern languages, notably Arabic, Persian, and Hindostani.
"(10) Have published over forty-six works, several of which, like
'Mecca,' and the 'Exploration of Harar,' are now standard."
* * * * *
"23, Dorset Street, Portman Square, London, W.,
"October, 1886.
"I have now written to Lord Salisbury, that since the Treasury
declines to concede to me full pay before full time of service, and
that the £300 a year to which I think I am entitled by regulation,
were I to resign the service, is hardly an equivalent of forty-five
years' hard work in anything but wholesome climates, to beg of him to
favour me by placing my name upon the Civil List for a pension of £300
a year.
"There are precedents for such a privilege, but I would not quote
names unless called upon to do so. I have told his Lordship that I
have had several kind letters from all quarters, expressing their
conviction of the reasonable nature of my request, and professing
themselves willing to strengthen his hands by their support, in the
hopes that such a favour may be conceded, the general idea being that
mine is an exceptional case. I have ventured to assure his Lordship
that I have every reason to hope that (this being no political
question) the Press on both sides will be in favour of this act of
grace, should it meet with _his_ approval.
"I suggested that _if_ there be any difficulty about my drawing
Consular pension and Literary pension, that the Literary pension might
be put in my wife's name, she being also an authoress and my coadjutor.
"I now beg to thank you for your kind expressions on my behalf, and to
ask you whether you will crown them by writing to Lord Salisbury in
such terms as will win this petition for me.
"I am,
"RICHARD F BURTON."
WHAT THE WORLD THOUGHT ABOUT IT.
(Press cuttings from many papers.)
"Richard Burton, four years before his death, wrote to the Government
that the climate of Trieste was killing him, and begged that he might,
after forty-five years of public service (nineteen in the Indian Army,
and twenty-six in the Consular Service, always in bad climates),
be allowed, at the age of sixty-six, to retire on full pension. He
said if there were any difficulty from the Treasury to make up full
Consular pension, that perhaps his services might be recommended to
the Civil List, so as to make up £600 a year; and that if _that_ could
not be granted, that the latter might be put in his wife's name, she
being an authoress, and his coadjutor in all his services.
"He said he would not be so tedious as to quote all his services, but
would venture to lay a few facts before their lordships which might
earn some consideration. That this being no political question, he
was sure the public and the press would endorse it heartily as an
exceptional case.
"Over forty-seven of the greatest names in the kingdom supported this
petition, as well as the press on both sides, but it was refused."
PENSION.
_Court and Society Review._
"The many friends of Sir Richard Burton are endeavouring to obtain for
him permission to retire from the Consular Service with his pension
a few years before the usual time, and, considering the services
rendered by the veteran explorer to his country and to the world
at large, and the ludicrous inadequacy of the rewards meted out to
him, there is nothing very extravagant in such a request. How great
his claims to generous treatment really are is a matter of which
most people are probably but ill informed. Thus, within the last few
weeks it has been stated in a score of newspapers that Sir Richard
Burton was 'the author of the system of bayonet exercise in use in
the British army.' Quite true. But how is it that no one has added
the trifling fact that Sir Richard Burton's reward for that work was
a severe official 'wigging,' and, when the necessity for a system of
bayonet exercise could no longer be concealed, permission to draw upon
the Treasury for the munificent sum of _one shilling_?
"In 1861, again, Sir Richard Burton was treated with egregious
injustice. He had dared to hint in the days of John Company that the
Court of Directors had been guilty of neglect of duties, and the
truth of his view was proved by the fact that, had his counsel been
followed, the massacre of Christians at Jeddah in 1851 would never
have occurred. This was quite enough. He had been in the right, and
his official superiors in the wrong. A black mark was, therefore,
put against his name; and when the Indian Army passed, three years
afterwards, from the Company to the Crown, the grudge was paid off.
He being then on half-pay, had been appointed by Lord Russell Consul
at Fernando Po. There are scores of instances of officers being
allowed to take civil appointments whilst still upon the cadre of the
Staff Corps in India. But the opportunity was too tempting. Burton
had offended the 'big-wigs,' and, without the chance of appeal, his
nineteen years of service were wiped out, and he was left without pay
or pension. Even the Whigs of a quarter of a century ago recognized
the injustice with which he had been treated, and so, after his famous
expedition to Dahomé, he was appointed Consul at Damascus. There,
unfortunately, he was found to be in the way. He would not sit by and
watch threatened massacres or injustice to the Christian population,
and so, at the request of Rashid Pasha, was removed by Lord Granville,
who, as Lady Burton says, with some bitterness, 'is always complaisant
and polite to foreigners.' A few months later Lord Granville found
out his mistake, and made such reparation as he could by appointing
Sir Richard Burton Consul at Trieste, where he has since remained, in
the enjoyment of the colossal income of £600 a year, less official
outgoings.
"It is surely not too much to ask that a man who has been thus
treated--who has served his country for forty-four years, and always
under the most arduous conditions--should be allowed to pass the
evening of his days in retirement in the enjoyment of the very modest
pittance to which his latter official services entitle him. He has
sown, and others have reaped; and there can surely be no impropriety
in allowing the very small boon which his friends ask for him. If he
had associated himself with the South Kensington ring in 1851, he
would have received his knighthood a dozen years ago, and there would
have been no necessity for his friends to be troubling themselves now
about his pension."
_The Bat_, December 7th.
"I do most sincerely trust that Sir Richard Burton's friends will
be successful in obtaining for him an adequate retiring allowance
from his post at Trieste. Wherever modern deeds of daring are known,
there is the name of Burton held in honour; and even in these days of
exploration and travel, I stand amazed opposite a shelf containing
the record of Burton's travels. In literature and scholarship he is
not less distinguished than in geography; and yet he has been left to
languish, year after year, in a place like Trieste, which is precisely
one of those places which would suit the intellect and capacity of the
average Foreign Office hack. After forty-five years of most eminent
public service Sir Richard wants to come home to live in peace, and
the question is whether he is to have a proper pension to enable him
to do so. He is within four years of completing the term which would
entitle him to a retiring allowance, for he has been in the Consular
Service only since 1861."
Cutting from _Truth_, October 7th, 1886.
"There is a rumour that Sir Richard Burton wants to retire and take
his pension, but that after forty-five years' service (nineteen
military and nearly twenty-six consular) the pension is so small
that he is driven to choose between losing his health in the
pestilential drainage of Trieste, or retiring on something less than
the necessaries of life. He might receive a pension for soldierly
services, one for consular and diplomatic, and one for literary and
linguistic services. This is not a political question, and it is one
of those exceptional cases in which the country would willingly see
the rigour of departmental law suspended, and a fair pension granted."
[Sidenote: _Chow-chow_.]
In August we went up to the Exhibition at Edinburgh to see our dear
old friend Mr. Mackay Smith, to whom we wished good-bye on the 26th
of August, and we never saw him again; and Mr. David Herbert, also a
friend of Richard's.
From thence we went to Glasgow to see Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, Mr.
Clouston, who was contributing some notes to the "Arabian Nights," Mr.
Gibbs, and Mr. David Main, publisher, bookseller, and poet.
From Glasgow we went to stay with Mr. Alexander Baird at Urie,
Stonehaven, where we met a very pleasant party: amongst others Sir
Samuel and Lady Baker. We returned to Edinburgh, thence to London.
In Edinburgh we looked after publishers and "Swords."
On the 18th of September Mr. H. Irving gave us a very agreeable supper
at the Continental Hotel, and Mr. Arbuthnot a pleasant dinner at
Richmond. Mr. George Paget was with us. We sauntered on the bridge and
watched the boats.
Richard notices a lunch at "dear old Larking's, aged eighty-five," who
sheltered him when going to Mecca; and that we had a very pleasant
dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Labouchere at Twickenham, and Richard dined
with the "Odd Volumes;" also a delightful lunch with G. A. Sala, and
one pleasant party at the Dowager Lady Stanley's of Alderley.
We saw a good deal of Count Téleki, who was starting on his African
travels, and we had a pleasant lunch with Mrs. (now Lady) Jeune.
On return we went to Wardour, where there had been a great storm;
some big oaks had been torn up in the pheasant copse near the Castle,
a shepherd's hut had been lifted up and dashed to pieces, and a
ploughshare had been blown along. We came in for an amusing village
dance. Thence we went to Bournemouth for two days, where we met a
good number of friends, dining with Sir Richard and Lady Glyn; then
to Eastbourne to see an old friend of my girlhood, the Comtesse de
Noailles, where we met Captain Jephson, who afterwards went with Mr.
Stanley to Africa.
Lord Iddesleigh was now our Chief at the Foreign Office, and both he
and Lady Iddesleigh were extremely kind to us, and we had a delightful
dinner at their house.
My father's dear old home was quite empty, and before the keys were
given up, Richard and I went all over it on the 18th of September,
and took a solemn leave of it. On the 27th of September Richard had
his last (independent) jolly night with his men-friends. He dined at
Boodle's to meet Prince Salms, and then he went to Mr. Deutsch's, and
he came home at half-past one, having had a very agreeable evening,
but it was for the last time in that kind of way. We had a dinner at
Mr. and Mrs. Ashbee's to say good-bye to Count Téleki before going to
Africa, and I gave him a talisman.
On the 6th of October we went to hear Mr. Heron Allen's lecture on
palmistry at the Vestry Hall, Hampstead.
[Sidenote: _His Third Bad Attack of Gout without Danger_.]
Richard had been having little attacks of gout off and on--bad one
day, and better and well within two days--and had been plying up and
down between Oxford and London. On the 19th of October I had a cab at
the door to take me to Liverpool Street to go on a visit to my convent
in Essex, but most fortunately, before I stepped into it, a telegram
was put into my hands, saying, "Gout in both feet; come directly;" so
I started for Oxford there and then, arriving in one hour and a half
after I received the telegram. I found him quite helpless, not being
able to put either foot to the ground, and very feverish and restless.
It was a misty, muggy day, and there was thunder and lightning,
and buckets of rain all that day and night till twelve o'clock the
following day. The morning after my arrival I ambulanced him up to
town, everything being prearranged by telegraph, and Dr. Foakes, his
gout doctor, to meet us at our lodgings.
This was his third _bad_ attack of gout since 1883--eight months, three
months--and this time he was in bed several weeks. All his friends
used to come and sit with him; amongst others, I remember Lord Stanley
of Alderley, Mr. James Cotton of the Academy, St Clair Baddeley, Mr.
Arbuthnot, Miss Bird, J. H. McCarthy, junior, Mr. Anderson the author,
African traveller, and discoverer of the third movement of the Earth,
used to come and amuse him.
On the 10th of November, 1886, the first volume of my "Nights" came out.
After nearly six weeks' confinement to the house, Richard thought
that he should like to try Dr. Kellgren, of Eaton Square, who went
in for shampooing, and gives a kind of athletic treatment for these
complaints, and I went down to Eaton Square first to see what it was
like. On the 29th of November he came, and it was a very curious
experience. He arrived with a young lady called Miss Alice, who is
his right hand. They first treated _me_ for quite a different malady,
and my yells amused Richard very much, because he did not know that
it was not a joke. He was afraid to let anybody come into the room,
for fear that they should shake his foot, and he was presently being
driven round the room like a wild beast. This was kept up for several
days, and there is no doubt that, awful as it seemed, he was able to
go down to Dr. Kellgren's in Eaton Square in a brougham with me, with
restoratives in the carriage, on that day week, and he got gradually
better. We were able to drive to Putney and lunch with Swinburne and
Mr. Watts.
_This_ is his own account of it--
"Three short visits to Oxford and one long one in a single month were
sufficient to bring on a disabling attack of gout--my third attack of
gout, which threatened to last. It was made as pleasant to me as it
could be, by the kindness and attention and sympathy of such men as
Professors Chandler, Sayce, and many other kind friends; and, helpless
in both feet, 20th of October, I was ambulanced up to London by my
wife, men to carry me from bed to train at each end, and bed in
train. I went through my first treatment by Dr. Foakes, the rhubarb
and magnesia man, but though the drugs formed a good prophylactic,
they failed to subdue a sharp attack. After six weeks of bed, I
determined upon a neck-or-nothing treatment, and sent my wife to fetch
me Dr. Kellgren, the celebrated Swede, concerning whom there is such a
variety of opinions in London. The treatment is simply horrible; the
gouty limb, which can hardly bear the noise of a person passing over
the carpet, is shampooed and twisted and pumped up and down till the
patient is in absolute agony, and as soon as he is able to stand upon
it he is driven round the room like a wild beast. There seems to be
some danger in the practice; the lithic acid expelled from the joint
is absorbed into the circulation, and in the protean malady no one can
tell when or where the mischief may break out--in stomach, brain, or
heart. However, the treatment was for _the moment_ most successful,
and after a week I was able to crawl downstairs, limp into a cab, and
visit Mr. Kellgren's establishment, No. 1, Eaton Square.[3]
"The improvement continued, and we determined to pass our Christmas
at Garswood with our uncle, the late Lord Gerard. He had always been
both to me and to my wife a kind and generous friend, and a second
father. It was her second home, and it was with heartfelt sorrow that
we saw him fast declining, and felt sadly sure that we should not
see him again; and so it proved, for after much difficulty he was
persuaded to go up to town and take the best medical advice, but two
days after was found dead in his bed. He belonged to that old school
of good and gallant English gentlemen, which in its time made the name
of Englishmen a word of honour throughout the civilized world. We took
the opportunity of going over to Knowsley, which is a mere drive,
where we found a large party, and we then returned to London, and were
invited to Hatfield, where we also found a large Christmas party. On
the 1st of November we said good-bye to Lady Marian Alford, who was
declining in health, and we had a fear that we should not see her any
more."
Richard notices on the 11th of November the death of our old friend the
Dublin philanthropist, Sir John Lentaigne, and on the 8th of December
he writes feelingly about the death of Lady Orford at Florence.
The day before we left London for good (January 4th, 1887), we saw and
said good-bye to "Ouida" for the last time, and on the 5th he notices
the death of Sir Francis Bolton.
[1] It might be remarked, "Why did he ever leave me behind?" Sometimes
it was a press of double business, requiring two people in different
places, but mostly it was lack of money. If there was enough for one,
he went; when there was enough for two, we both went.--I. B.
[2] Richard's retiring pension--full pension for his four last years.
[3] N.B.--I could often wish that that treatment had never taken place.
I cannot help connecting subsequent misfortunes with it.--I. B.