There
was little hope of promotion from the new Government, so the Burtons
resigned themselves to Trieste with what grace they might; and though
they were constantly agitating for promotion and change, neither the
promotion nor the change came. Burton hated Trieste; he chafed at the
restricted field for his energies which it afforded him; and had it not
been for frequent expeditions of a more or less hazardous nature, and
his literary labours, life at the Austrian seaport would have been
intolerable for him. With Isabel it was different. As the years
went on she grew to love the place and the people, and to form many
ties and interests which it would have been hard for her to break.
Notwithstanding this she warmly seconded her husband's efforts to
obtain from the Foreign Office some other post, and she was never weary
of bringing his claims before the notice of the Government, the public,
and any influential friends who might be likely to help. Indeed the
record of her diary during these years is one of continuous struggle
on her husband's behalf, which is varied only by anxiety for his health.
"I am like a swimmer battling against strong waves," she writes to a
friend about this time, "and I think my life will always be thus. Were
I struggling only for myself, I should long before have tired; but since
it is for my dear one's sake I shall fight on so long as life lasts.
Every now and then one seems to reach the crest of the wave, and that
gives one courage; but how long a time it is when one is in the depths!"
To another friend she wrote:
"We have dropped into our old Triestine lives.
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