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The Romance of Isabel Lady Burton
With this answer she was fain to be content for a space.
In August, 1864, the time came round again for Burton's second leave home. His wife, rejoicing, travelled down to meet him at Liverpool, this time to part no more, as previously. A few weeks after his return they went to Mortlake Cemetery and chose the place for their grave, the very spot where the stone tent now is, beneath which they both are sleeping. Very quickly after that came the British Association meeting at Bath and the tragic incident of Speke's death.[1]
- ↑ "Laurence Oliphant conveyed to Richard that Speke had said that 'if Burton appeared on the platform at Bath' (which was, as it were, Speke's native town) 'he would kick him.' I remember Richard's answer—'Well, that settles it! By God! he shall kick me'; and so to Bath we went. There was to be no speaking on Africa the first day, but the next day was fixed for the 'great discussion between Burton and Speke.' The first day we went on the platform close to Speke. He looked at Richard and at me, and we at him. I shall never forget his face. It was full of sorrow, of yearning and perplexity. Then he seemed to turn to stone. After a while he began to fidget a great deal, and exclaimed half aloud, 'Oh, I cannot stand this any longer!' He got up to go out. The man nearest him said, 'Shall you want your chair again, sir? May I have it? Shall you come back?' and he answered, 'I hope not,' and left the hall. The next day a large crowd was assembled for this famous discussion. All the distinguished people were with the Council; Richard alone was excluded, and stood on the platform—we two alone, he with his notes in his hand. There was a delay of about twenty-five minutes, and then the Council and speakers filed in and announced the terrible accident out shooting that had befallen poor Speke shortly after his leaving the hall the day before. Richard sank into a chair, and I saw by the workings of his face the terrible emotion he was controlling and the shock he had received. When called upon to speak, in a voice that trembled, he spoke of other things and as briefly as he could. When we got home he wept long and bitterly, and I was for many a day trying to comfort him" (Life of Sir Richard Burton, by Isabel his wife, vol. i., p. 389).
