169. Catullus and the Last Trip, July—September 1890.
Burton, as we have seen, had commenced his translation of Catullus, 18th February 1890, at Hammam R'irha. He finished the first rough copy of Trieste March 31st, and commenced a second copy on May 23rd. "He would bring his Latin Catullus," says Lady Burton, "down to the table d'hote with him, and he used to come and sit by me, but the moment he got a person on the other side who did not interest him he used to whisper to me 'Talk, that I may do my Catullus.'" "Sir Richard," says Mr. Leonard Smithers, upon whom had devolved the task of making the prose translation that was to accompany it, "laid great stress on the necessity of thoroughly annotating each translation from an erotic and especially pederastic point of view." [623]
On July 1st the Burtons, accompanied as usual by Dr. Baker, Lisa and the magpie trunk, set out on what proved to be their last trip—a journey through the Tyrol and Switzerland. They arrived at Zurich just in time for "the great Schiefs-Statte fete, the most important national function of Switzerland," which was held that year at the neighbouring town of Frauenfeld. Seven thousand pounds had been set aside for prizes for shooing, and forty thousand persons were present. Next day there was a grand Consular dinner, to which Burton was invited. Dr. Baker having expressed regret that he also had not been included, Burton remarked, "Oh, I'll manage it. Write a letter for me and decline." So a letter was written to the effect that as Sir Richard Burton made it a rule not to go anywhere without his medical attendant he was obliged to decline the honour, &c., &c. Presently, as had been expected, came another invitation with Dr. Baker's name added. Consequently they went, and a very grand dinner it proved—lasting, by Lady Burton's computation, six hours on end. At St. Mortiz-Kulm, and often after, they met Canon Wenham of Mortlake, with whom both Sir Richard and Lady Burton had long been on terms of friendship.
170. At Maloja, July 1890.
At Davos they found John Addington Symonds, and at Maloja Mr. Francis R. S. Wyllie, Mr. and Mrs. (Sir and Lady) Squire Bancroft, the Rev. Dr. Welldon and Mr. and Mrs. (Sir and Lady) Henry Stanley. Mrs. Stanley, apparently at Lady Burton's suggestion, took a sheet of paper and wrote on it, "I promise to put aside all other literature, and, as soon as I return to Trieste, to write my autobiography." Then doubling the paper she asked for Burton's autograph; and her request having been complied with, she showed him what he had put his hand to. The rest of the company signed as witnesses.
For some days, though it was early autumn, the party was snow-bound, and Burton relieved the wearisomeness of the occasion by relating some of his adventures. Mrs. Bancroft told him many amusing stories as they walked together in a sheltered covered way.
"He had interested me so greatly," writes Lady Bancroft to me, [624] "that I felt myself in his debt, and so tried by that means to make it up to him. He laughed heartily at them. Indeed, I never knew anyone who more enjoyed my stories. One morning early I played a practical joke upon him. He politely raised his hat and said: 'I will forgive you, dear friend, on one condition. Play the same trick on Stanley when he comes down and I will watch.' I agreed, and fortunately brought down my second bird. Both victims forgave me. One day I posed the Burtons, the Stanleys, Captain Mounteney Jephson (Stanley's friend and companion), with Salah (Stanley's black servant) for a photograph, which was taken by a young clergyman. I have the delightful result in my possession. I remember on a splendid morning, when the weather had mended and the sun was dancing over a neighbouring glacier, my husband saying to the black boy, 'Salah, isn't this a lovely day—don't you like to see the beautiful sun again?' 'No, sir,' was the answer, 'ice makes him cold.' Both Stanley and Sir Richard interested me more than I can say; they were wonderful personalities, and those were, indeed, happy days."
Almost every day during the trip Sir Richard brought the Catullus to the table d'hote, and on 21st July he had finished his second copy. He then wrote in the margin, "Work incomplete, but as soon as I receive Mr. Smithers' prose, I will fill in the words I now leave in stars, in order that we may not use the same expressions, and I will then make a third, fair and complete copy." [625] During this trip, too, Burton very kindly revised the first half of Dr. Baker's work The Model Republic. The second half was revised by John Addington Symonds after Burton's death.
Burton was back again at Trieste on 7th September. He and the magpie trunk were never again to make a journey together. The melancholy fate of the Catullus, which Burton had put aside in order that he might finish The Scented Garden, will be recorded in a later chapter.