Lot Essay
By 1863 Burton, aged 42, was already the veteran of an extraordinary career which had included military service in India and the Crimea, bravura pilgrimages to the forbidden Holy Cities of El Medina, Mecca and Harar, a trail-blazing expedition to the Lake Regions of Central Africa in search of the source of the Nile (which would culminate in the fatal Burton-Speke controversy) and travels throughout North America. He had grudgingly taken up the desultory post of H.M.'s consul at Fernando Po in the Bight of Biafra in 1861 and returned to London for three months leave at the end of 1862 before returning to West Africa in March 1863.
Rudolf Lehmann's portrait presumably dates to this period of leave and while formal in aspect, barely subdues Burton's restive and fascinating physical presence, dramatised by the sitter's extravagent moustache (first adopted in his Muslim disguise on the Pilgrimage to Mecca in 1853 when he was nicknamed Abu Schuwárib (father of moustachios) by a Bedouin), and by his scarred face, a Somali javelin having pierced both cheeks at Berbera in 1855.
Relatively few portraits of Burton have survived and of these, listed below, only Leighton's portrait of 1872 has more than documentary merit. One or two of the surviving photographs of Burton (such as the image of Burton wrapped in a blanket after the pilgrimage to Mecca (circa 1855), now in the Royal Geographical Society, London and the frontispiece in Isabel Burton's biography showing him in his tent in Africa (circa 1862)) are more revealing and go some way to matching the compelling descriptions from his contemporaries: 'Like his father he too attracted attention in the street, not for the perfect features but rather for an extra dimension in size and bearing, and for an absolute originality in face and character. Young Laura Friswell, aged nine, saw him as "a bold, bad bandit", and Harold Nicolson, even younger, never forgot his "questing, panther eyes." Ouida wrote, "His mere presence in a club-room made the ordinary club-men seem small.' Arthur Symons, poet and critic, said that he had a "tremendous animalism, an air of repressed ferocity, a devilish fascination."' (F. Brodie, The Devil Drives, A Life of Sir Richard Burton, London, 1987, p. 28).
His appearance was even more dramatic in 1859, on his return from the gruelling expedition with Speke in Africa: 'Burton's Arabic look by now seemed pronounced, with the prominent cheek bones thrown into extra relief by the disfiguring scars from the lance at Berbera. His thick, dark hair grew low on his forehead. But after twenty-one fever attacks and opthalmia, he limped and his sight was fuzzy. He was cadaverous, and his yellow-brown skin was baggy and pendulous. His eyes protruded and his lips were drawn away from his teeth as if in some hideous rictus. This, combined with the long drooping moustaches, gave his mouth a singularly cruel look. Only a truly besotted woman could have found him attractive, but such was Isabel.' (F. McLynn, Burton: Snow upon the Desert, London, 1993, p. 169). He married Isabel in 1861 after a recuperative nine months touring North America and Lehmann's portrait, showing him after his first spell as consul in West Africa shows him just two years later, his demeanour apparently recovered.
Other published portraits include an anonymous portrait of Burton in military dress with this sister, Lady Maria Stisted, 1851; Louis Desanges's pair of wedding portraits, 1861; Leighton's bust length portrait of Burton in profile, 1872 (in the National Potrait Gallery, London) and an unattributed copy (with Spink & Son, 1976); Mme. Gutmansthal de Benvenuti's portrait of Burton in Trieste, 1879; and Albert Letchford's full-length portrait of Burton in fencing costume, 1889. Two further portraits by Letchford (of Burton at work in his bedroom in Trieste and an unfinished study) are also recorded. Alongside these oils, drawings and engraved works include his self-portrait in Muslim disguise engraved by Kell and published as the frontispiece to his Pilgrimage; Borgo Caratti's portrait of Burton as Haji Abdullah en route to Mecca, 1853; the pen and ink self-portrait in oriental costume of circa 1853 offered in these Rooms, 16 July 1993, lot 2; and the cartoon published in Vanity Fair in 1885
Rudolf Lehmann's portrait presumably dates to this period of leave and while formal in aspect, barely subdues Burton's restive and fascinating physical presence, dramatised by the sitter's extravagent moustache (first adopted in his Muslim disguise on the Pilgrimage to Mecca in 1853 when he was nicknamed Abu Schuwárib (father of moustachios) by a Bedouin), and by his scarred face, a Somali javelin having pierced both cheeks at Berbera in 1855.
Relatively few portraits of Burton have survived and of these, listed below, only Leighton's portrait of 1872 has more than documentary merit. One or two of the surviving photographs of Burton (such as the image of Burton wrapped in a blanket after the pilgrimage to Mecca (circa 1855), now in the Royal Geographical Society, London and the frontispiece in Isabel Burton's biography showing him in his tent in Africa (circa 1862)) are more revealing and go some way to matching the compelling descriptions from his contemporaries: 'Like his father he too attracted attention in the street, not for the perfect features but rather for an extra dimension in size and bearing, and for an absolute originality in face and character. Young Laura Friswell, aged nine, saw him as "a bold, bad bandit", and Harold Nicolson, even younger, never forgot his "questing, panther eyes." Ouida wrote, "His mere presence in a club-room made the ordinary club-men seem small.' Arthur Symons, poet and critic, said that he had a "tremendous animalism, an air of repressed ferocity, a devilish fascination."' (F. Brodie, The Devil Drives, A Life of Sir Richard Burton, London, 1987, p. 28).
His appearance was even more dramatic in 1859, on his return from the gruelling expedition with Speke in Africa: 'Burton's Arabic look by now seemed pronounced, with the prominent cheek bones thrown into extra relief by the disfiguring scars from the lance at Berbera. His thick, dark hair grew low on his forehead. But after twenty-one fever attacks and opthalmia, he limped and his sight was fuzzy. He was cadaverous, and his yellow-brown skin was baggy and pendulous. His eyes protruded and his lips were drawn away from his teeth as if in some hideous rictus. This, combined with the long drooping moustaches, gave his mouth a singularly cruel look. Only a truly besotted woman could have found him attractive, but such was Isabel.' (F. McLynn, Burton: Snow upon the Desert, London, 1993, p. 169). He married Isabel in 1861 after a recuperative nine months touring North America and Lehmann's portrait, showing him after his first spell as consul in West Africa shows him just two years later, his demeanour apparently recovered.
Other published portraits include an anonymous portrait of Burton in military dress with this sister, Lady Maria Stisted, 1851; Louis Desanges's pair of wedding portraits, 1861; Leighton's bust length portrait of Burton in profile, 1872 (in the National Potrait Gallery, London) and an unattributed copy (with Spink & Son, 1976); Mme. Gutmansthal de Benvenuti's portrait of Burton in Trieste, 1879; and Albert Letchford's full-length portrait of Burton in fencing costume, 1889. Two further portraits by Letchford (of Burton at work in his bedroom in Trieste and an unfinished study) are also recorded. Alongside these oils, drawings and engraved works include his self-portrait in Muslim disguise engraved by Kell and published as the frontispiece to his Pilgrimage; Borgo Caratti's portrait of Burton as Haji Abdullah en route to Mecca, 1853; the pen and ink self-portrait in oriental costume of circa 1853 offered in these Rooms, 16 July 1993, lot 2; and the cartoon published in Vanity Fair in 1885