The Life of Captain Sir Richard F. Burton, volume 2 (of 2): By His Wife, Isabel BurtonBurton, Isabel, Lady
History
The Life of Captain Sir Richard F. Burton, volume 2 (of 2): By His Wife, Isabel Burton
Burton, Isabel, Lady
Burton, Richard Francis, Sir, 1821-1890; Explorers -- Great Britain -- Biography; Scholars -- Great Britain -- Biography
On the 15th of October, 1876, we had a delightful excursion to Salvore
to see the new excavations and _castellieri_; Baron and Baroness Pino
made a party in the Government yacht, and gave us a charming breakfast.
Coming back, instead of getting in in early afternoon, we got lost in a
fog, and did not get back till eleven o'clock, when we found ourselves
grating against the lighthouse. I have a remembrance of that day in the
shape of a marble paper-weight with its little history engraved on it,
given to me by the excavator, Cav. Richetti, civil engineer.
We used to have a great many spiritualistic _séances_ at Monsieur and
Madame Jules Favre's, brother of Léon Favre. All the spiritualists used
to collect here.
We went a trip to Fiume and Agram, and to Gorizia, two hours' express
from Trieste in the Karso, as I wanted to make a "spiritual retreat"
at the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, but under a Dalmatian Jesuit. Gorizia is
a pretty, striking, picturesque cathedral town. It covers a hill, some
hillocks, and a part of a fertile plateau in the heart of the Carniola
Mountains, surrounded by ranges of wooded Istrian mountains, which are
also encircled by a higher snow-capped range (the Carniola range). It
is small, cheerful, primitive, with salubrious air, especially good
for nerves and chest complaints; it is composed entirely of Churches,
Monasteries, and Convents, church dignitaries, and all sorts of
ecclesiastics and nuns--a Prince Archbishop being the Chief--and a few
pious old ladies--a resident local aristocracy. The river Isonzo, the
boundary between Austria and Italy, glides through the valley, making
the sea green with its outflow, sometimes as far as Duino. It is a
magnificent scene in the sunset, when it lights up the snow, bathing it
in purple, red, and gold, till the whole panorama seems on fire. There
is a great pilgrimage place called Monte-Santo on a grizly top, with
church and monastery, where Richard and I have often been together.
This Deaf and Dumb Institution is a large Convent with a garden. It has
a little chapel dedicated to the Sacred Heart, seven sisters of Notre
Dame, a padre who is Director, a second priest, and a professor who
is an aspirant for the priesthood, a number of servants, and a hundred
and fifty children, deaf and dumb boys and girls. Everything is done by
signs; the prayers, the studies, the sermon; even plays are acted in
signs. The education is reading, writing, arithmetic, catechism, plain
work, fancy work, drawing, illustrating, church work; the boys help in
the garden, and the padre keeps fish, rabbits, and bees. They call him
"papa." He is quite devoted to his bees, and being a highly educated
man, Richard used to pass a great deal of time with him and the bees.
[Sidenote: _Henri V. of France_.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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