On the 13th we had a large tea-party from Duino—Princess Taxis, Prince Hohenlöhe, Prince Eric, and the Duchess della Grazia.
We now had a great annoyance in receiving the following paragraph:—
"Illness of Sir Richard Burton.
"While all England, says the London correspondent of the Liverpool Mercury, is continuing to fêté Mr. Stanley, it is not pleasant to reflect that his great predecessor in African exploration, Sir Richard Burton, is lying very dangerously ill, neglected and alone, in London lodgings. Yet in his time and in his own way the elder traveller accomplished even more remarkable feats than the hero of the hour. His romantic pilgrimage to Mecca and El-Medinah in the disguise of a Moslem devotee, his journey through Berbera to the Sacred City of Harar, where no other infidel foot has ever trodden, were but preliminaries to the great achievement of his life, the discovery of Lake Tanganyika—the credit for which had been claimed for Captain Speke. This discovery paved the way for all that has since been done in Central Africa."
This hurt me very much, and it annoyed my husband as much as it did me, and I returned the following answer:—
"Sir Richard Burton.
"To the Editor of the Morning Post.
"Sir,—My relations have startled me with a cutting from a 'London Correspondent' saying that 'Sir Richard Burton is lying very dangerously ill, neglected and alone, in a London lodging, whilst Stanley is being fêtéd.' If the love and devotion of a wife may count for anything, Sir Richard will never be neglected nor alone whilst I am alive. I have been married to him for nearly thirty years, besides a five years' engagement, and during all those thirty-five years I have never been absent from him one day that I was allowed to be with him—in other words, I have never been absent except to execute his orders. For the last seven years we have hardly been a day apart, and for the last three and a half years that he has been ailing, never one hour away out of the twenty-four. During these three and a half years we have, in consequence of the weakness of his health, sacrificed everything to have a resident English doctor (who was looking for such a berth) living and travelling with us. And instead of a London lodging, we have a beautiful and romantic home (with every comfort for him that our means allow) at the very head of the Adriatic. Next year his term of service expires (forty-nine years' actual service), and then we shall both be, if alive, 'in a London lodging, neglected and alone.' But to state that now is what the Americans would call 'a little previous.' On the other hand, I am very grateful to the correspondent for the truth of his statement about my husband's career, showing that in the midst of this fêting and rejoicings for the great traveller Stanley, the pioneer who opened up the way without money or help or applause, enduring the severest hardships and perils, and cold receptions on his return, is not forgotten at home, and that they know that it is to him first that they owe the fact that many of these desolate regions have now trade and schools and missions, and the beginning of civilization. I feel confident that God will make up to him more than he has missed of this world's honours.
"Yours, etc.,
"Isabel Burton.
"Trieste, June 15."
We had at this time six days of continuous violent storms, which made his health less good. We had one more charming outing; to Duino, to attend the Gypsy fair, where, as usual, we were after Romany and Gypsy lore. I tried to buy up some of their skeleton horses, but they wanted £5 a piece. We had a very delightful and memorable evening there on the 24th of June (all the family of Duino dining with us at the inn).
On the 30th we were honoured by a visit from Archduke Ludwig Salvator.