And the Rest Is History (7 page)

8

1850

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
he Victorian era gave birth to some of the most colorful personalities in world history, and yet Sir Richard Burton's larger-than-life personality managed to eclipse most of his colorful contemporaries. It took an extraordinary woman to win the heart of the restless wanderer, and he found it in the woman who followed him throughout the world.

Richard Francis Burton was born in Devon, England; however, he spent most of his childhood traveling with his family throughout Europe. He attended Oxford University, where he pursued his genius for language, and took up the pursuits of falconry and fencing. He was expelled for attending a steeplechase, as well as for antagonizing both faculty and students. Before departing, as his final calling card, he trampled the college's flower beds with his horse and carriage. After his expulsion, he enlisted in the army of the East India Company, because, as he explained, he was “fit for nothing but to be shot at for six pence a day.”

Burton had many habits that set him apart from other soldiers. One was his flawless command of twenty-nine languages. Another oddity was that he kept a large menagerie of tame monkeys in the hopes of understanding their communication. He was also well known for his proficiency in sexual practices, especially ones from foreign countries. However, Burton did not care what others thought of him, as he said, “Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause.”

Richard's destiny, Isabel Arundell, came from an old and distinguished Catholic family and was educated at a convent near her home. Although raised in a traditional fashion, from a young age she did not want to play the role of a typical upper-class woman. As a debutante, she was far different from the shallow, husband-seeking females of her class. When introduced to eligible young men at dances, she referred to them as “mannikins” or “animated tailors' dummies.” She wrote, “'Tis man's place to do great deeds!” She determined she would rather spend her life in a convent than as a country squire's wife. In her diary she confided, “As God took a rib out of Adam and made a woman of it, so do I, out of a wild chaos of thought, form a man unto myself. He is a gentleman in every sense of the word; and of course he is an Englishman. He is a man who owns something more than a body; he has a head and a heart, a mind and a soul.” A few months after her entry, in Essex, she met a Romanian gypsy, Hagar Burton, who foretold that her life would be bohemian: “Your life is all wandering, change and adventure. One soul in two bodies, in life or death, never long apart. Show this to the man you take for a husband.”

The first time Richard met Isabel was in Boulogne, France. Isabel had traveled there (the first time she had left England) for a family vacation; Richard was on leave to visit its fencing school. Their first glimpse of one another was when Isabel and her sister were on a stroll and she saw the man whom she was forever to refer to as “my destiny.” Of their meeting she wrote, “He looked at me as though he read me through and through in a moment, and started a little. I was completely magnetized, and when we got a little distance away I turned to my sister, and whispered to her, ‘That man will marry me.'” The next day when he saw her he chalked on a wall,
May I speak to you?
and then left the chalk beside his message. Isabel wrote as her response,
No, Mother will be angry.
However, she never lost an opportunity of making her path cross his. Later they met at a British colony party; afterward, because he had put his arm around her waist when they waltzed, she treasured the sash he had touched.

When it was time for the Arundells to return to London, Isabel did so with a sinking feeling in her heart; she was hopelessly in love with Richard. However, he made no professions of his affection. He was already looking forward to the horizon of future adventures. Hence, when they parted they did so as friends, though Isabel yearned for far more. While she was out of sight and out of mind, he embarked on the journey that was to make him one of the most celebrated of Victorians.

Richard's seven years in India had made him familiar with the customs of Islam, a necessary step for him to attempt a hajj, a pilgrimage to Mecca. For verisimilitude, he dressed, spoke, and acted like a Muslim; in addition, he stained his skin with henna. Even more extreme, he underwent a circumcision to lessen his chance of discovery. This was essential, as the penalty for detection was death. He became the first non-Muslim European to enter the Islamic forbidden city, which he accomplished under the guise of Abdullah of Afghanistan.

His adventures were eagerly devoured by the British public, especially Isabel. She was horrified to read about his misadventure in Somalia, where warriors attacked his contingent. A javelin had impaled Richard's cheek and exited from the other, leaving a lifelong scar. He made his escape with the weapon still embedded in his face. When the newspapers reported that Burton's next venture was in the Crimea, the ever-faithful Isabel tried three times to join Florence Nightingale's nurses, but was told she was too young and too inexperienced.

However, in 1855, two months after Burton had arrived in England, he ran into Isabel where she was reading in London's Botanical Gardens. For the next two weeks they met there every day, and finally Richard embraced her and asked if she would give up civilization for him. Isabel did not hesitate in her acceptance. “I would rather have a tent and a crust with you than be queen of all the world. And so I say now: Yes, yes, yes!” They sealed their engagement with a passionate kiss. Later she recalled that she “trod on air.” However, they decided to keep their romance a secret, as the Royal Geographical Society had engaged him to explore the east of Africa, where he was to lead an expedition which was to result in the discovery of Lake Tanganyika.

Four years later when he returned, the impediment to their marriage was Isabel's mother. She was a fervent Catholic and didn't want her daughter marrying an atheist who would drag her beloved daughter off to some “heathen” outpost. Moreover, while Richard had achieved fame he had not gained fortune; his sole assets were his charisma and adventurous life. In addition to these concerns, there was the matter of his well-known fascination with sexuality. If all this were not enough, she did not appreciate his sense of humor. When she had confronted him regarding his intentions toward Isabel he had answered, “Strictly dishonorable, Madam. Englishmen who are restricted to one wife cannot be too careful.”

In 1861, the couple married in a private ceremony without family, attended only by a handful of friends at the Bavarian Catholic Church. Afterward they retired to Richard's bachelor quarters. Isabel recalled that although they had only a few pounds, “we were as happy as it is given to any mortals out of heaven to be.” Because of Burton's fame, the prime minister hosted a dinner party to honor the newlyweds, and Queen Victoria, contrary to all precedent, allowed the bride of an elopement to be presented at court.

Unfortunately, immediately after their marriage Burton entered the Foreign Service and was stationed in Guinea. As the climate was considered extremely unhealthy for Europeans, Isabel could not accompany him. She wrote of their separation, “I am neither maid nor wife nor widow.” However, they were reunited when Richard was transferred to Brazil.

When Richard received a post in Trieste, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, he was able to engage in one of his other interests: writing. His best-known contribution to literature was when he translated foreign works into English, thereby giving the Western world
The Kama Sutra
. Its sexual content was considered the epitome of pornography. Another masterpiece he added to literary lore was his translation of
The Arabian Nights
, thereby introducing to the western world stories from the east:
Sinbad the Sailor
,
Aladdin's Magic Lamp
, and
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
.

Many felt that Burton's travel books that delineated exotic sexual practices were based on primary sources. This aspect of her husband's nature pained the extremely Catholic Isabel, as did his premise that polygamy was not immoral. Isabel was aware of the gossip bandied about that her conjugal bed was used to test Oriental sexual practices. However, she never regretted her destiny. As she wrote her mother, “I want to live ... I want a wild, roving, vagabond life ... I wish I were a man. If I were I would be Richard Burton: but, being only a woman, I would be Richard Burton's wife.” Their marriage, despite her absorption with piety and his with pornography, was one of unending devotion.

Public recognition and respect for Burton culminated with his knighthood: In 1886, they became Sir Richard and Lady Burton.

In Trieste, in 1890, death found the man who had evaded it for so long when Burton passed away from a heart attack. By his side was his partner in wanderlust, his ever-devoted Isabel. During his final moments he used his wife's nickname and made his final request. His last words were to his first love: “Quick, Puss, chloroform—ether—or I am a dead man.”

In death, as in life, Isabel remained devoted to Richard. She commissioned a mausoleum in the shape of a stone reproduction of a Bedouin tent. On its wall hang two portraits of husband and wife on their wedding day. When Isabel passed away she was buried beside her knight in the Arab-styled stone tent, under the British sky.

9

1880

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
hroughout history, women have been portrayed as femmes fatales whose sexuality brought about the fall of great men: the mythological Pandora, the biblical Eve, the Egyptian Cleopatra, the Shakespearean Lady Macbeth. Ireland has its own such femme fatale; when Charles Parnell took Katharine O'Shea into his arms he brought his country to its knees, and thus, she was viewed as responsible for the downfall of the one she loved.