On the 11th we had a great pleasure in celebrating our dear old Vice-Consul Mr. Brock's fiftieth year at Trieste. He was so loved and respected, that everybody wished to contribute some little proof, and Mrs. Craig, the wife of Mr. George Craig, a merchant of Trieste, our principal English lady, and I, received the demonstrations of their good will, which were even more pronounced amongst the old Triestine families than amongst the English, who were less wealthy, though not less well disposed towards him; and on the 11th of September Mrs. Craig and I were able to put a purse of £170 into his hands. The dear old man was so much affected that I was afraid he would have a fit. He could not sign a Consular report for two hours after.
On the 10th of December my publisher, poor Mr. Mullan, died, and my boys' books were returned to me, to begin afresh with another publisher, which was, unhappily, Mr. Bogue. On the 15th, Richard lectured at the English Engineers' Club, which was very well attended, much applauded, and was noticed largely in the foreign Press, in most gratifying terms, speaking of him as dear and respected for his learning, merits, and philanthropy, and I had my third fête for humanity to animals.
We went to the baths of Monfalcone, supposed to be excellent for gout and rheumatism, heading round the gulf to the shore opposite Trieste, and I must say they did Richard a great deal of good, though it was slow.
"The Baths of Monfalcone.
"To the Editor of the Medical Times and Gazette.
"Sir,
"Will you allow me to make known to you a bathing-place which is never recommended in England by medical men, because it is so little known? Two hours' drive from Trieste, one by rail, two hours' drive from old classical Aquileja, close to the river Isonzo, and almost on the borders of Austria and Italy, a townlet of four thousand inhabitants lies seething in the plain, under a burning July sun. You may perhaps see it on the map, half an hour's distance from the sea, at the very head of the Adriatic. In 1433 it existed, and the baths in those days were thirty feet long and twelve broad. They have been perpetually bettered and destroyed from that period until a year ago; and I am not going to enter into any interesting or tedious details, but take them up at 1879, when the property was bought by a personal friend of ours, a gentleman of Trieste, named Dr. Rabl, D.C.L. He has put the baths in perfect condition and working order, and he will go on improving and bettering according as a more numerous and a better class of visitors are attracted here. At present there are a hundred and fifty bathers, but of the most uninteresting description—just the people 'you don't want to meet,' as Judy says. There are rows of rooms for the mud-baths, and opposite corresponding rooms for the water-baths, and a large basin for those who like to swim or bathe in company. There are douches, and we are going to have vapour-baths. The same arrangements exist on the men's side of the establishment as on that for the women. The work of pumping up the water and collecting the mud by machinery is carried out with a sufficient staff of servants in attendance. The mud and the water in their natural state show 34° Réaumur. The water is beautifully clear, is mixed with sea-water, and contains lots of things, of which the principal are sulphate of soda. The baths are very powerful, and are resorted to for all bone pains—rheumatism, gout, neuralgia, lumbago, sciatica. The treatment ranges from twelve to eighteen baths; and in three years 1315 cures have been effected. The doctor is beginning to hang up the crutches the people leave behind, as they do ex votos in a church. His name is Tamburlini; he is well informed and very efficient. We naturally take an interest in the works, as it is in our Consular district, and it might draw some nice English visitors here in summer-time. The baths are open from May to September. As I write now it is 83° F. in the rooms; going out is not possible (except to sit under the trees) from, say, 9 a.m. till 6 or 7 p.m.
"I am, etc.,
"Isabel Burton.
"Monfalcone, July 10th."
("We have much pleasure in publishing the above letter from the enterprising wife of the still more adventurous 'Hadji.' It seems the fate of well-known travellers and men of science to be relegated to parts unknown, to wear out their days in what is supposed to be rest. If we remember aright, Charles Lever was banished to the dulness of Trieste. They sent Palgrave to Guiana, and James Hannay to Barcelona. We are glad to see that Mrs. Burton, at all events, continues to keep up those active spirits which so often and so well bestead her.—Ed. Med. Times and Gaz.")
Richard had quite a grande passion for silver. He declared that everybody had some particular metal which influenced them, and also colour. His metal was silver, and silver applied to his pains cured him; he would put florins on his eyes if they ached from over reading or study; he would apply them to his pains where he had gout; and after he got the "'Arabian Nights" earnings, everything he bought was silver. A heavy six-guinea knob of silver to a huge stick, his toilette box, his pencil-case, his snuff-box, his roll to put his pens and pencils in, everything was silver. His theory was that every man has some metal which affects his illness, and, after frequent trials, found his. So we used to bind silver florins round his feet and legs when he had gout, and though it did not cure him, it always relieved him. He had the same theory about colours, and his was the royal cramoisie, or blood-red, which soothed him. We continued our work, and we used to take drives, such as to Villa Vicentina, and to Aquileja, ancient Aquila, to the museum and church, and up the Campanile Tower.
[1] Richard used always to say that, psychologically speaking, he was convinced that he was a spoiled twin, and that I was the broken or missing fragment.