Lever was now at the threshold of the most brilliant period of his
career. Still in the prime of life, he was able to enjoy all the fun
of the fair, and to record his impressions of men and affairs with
unflagging vivacity, but with mellowed shrewdness. He neither hoped
nor desired to reach again that giddy pinnacle upon which stood ‘Harry
Lorrequer’ and ‘Charles O’Malley.’ He now possessed a firmer grip of
character; he was more adroit in the arts of description and dialogue;
and he had gained a truer insight into the workings of the human mind.
His military fever was slowly burning itself out, though he was able to
fan the embers into flame when, later, he was inditing the adventures of
“Maurice Tiernay.” His sense of fantastic and boisterous humour was as
strong as when he had created “Mickey Free” and “Corney Delany”: under
firmer control it had lost much of its side-splitting qualities; yet, as
one may judge from ‘Con Cregan,’ it was only because he held his art
in high esteem that he did not, in his later period, produce another
“Lorrequer.”
It has been the habit, in criticising Lever’s novels, to state that a
startling change in his manner originated with ‘Glencore,’ published
in 1855; but this statement is made mainly on the authority of Charles
Lever. He really began to “sober down” with ‘The O’Donoghue’ in 1844
and ‘The Knight of Gwynne’ in 1845; and when, on the romance-inspiring
shores of Lake Como, he planned the adventures of “roland Cashel,” his
early nonchalant manner was fast disappearing.
_To Alexander Spencer._
“Villa Nova, Lake of Como, _Aug_. 9, 1847.
“At last we are in Italy, and if the journey--bringing seven horses and
three children over the Alps--was not without its share of anxieties,
our present _séjour_ well repays them all. Indeed, I could not attempt
to give an idea of the mingled grandeur and beauty of this gorgeous
lake--Alpine in sublimity, and yet a tropical picture of vegetation.
Our little villa, one of the very smallest on the lake, stands next
the Villa D’Esté, so renowned as Queen Caroline’s--about two and a half
miles from Como, in a small embayment bounded by lofty mountains, and
almost hid among the thick shade of olives, citrons, wild fig-trees, and
cactus. On every side stands some picturesque abode, all, or nearly
all, belonging to distinguished persons, and built in every variety
of architectural taste. Castles and cottages, forts, villas, palaces,
temples, all more beautiful than I have ever seen before, because that
neither colour nor tracery suffers from the effects of weather; and
nothing is more common than to see frescoes in all the freshness of tint
on the outside of houses, while statues are of a whiteness that even
our galleries rarely exhibit. Gondolas, in all the gay and _frappant_
colours that aquatic coquetry can suggest, are eternally shooting past
our windows; and now, while I write at midnight, the lake is alive with
passing _barcarolles_ and the glitter of torches,--making a picture of
strange and most beautiful effect.
“I would ramble on for hours and yet convey, perhaps, nothing--at least
nothing approaching the inexpressible charm of a scene where beauty
of landscape blends with a picture of life made up of all that high
civilisation and culture can create. It realises in one spot all I had
dreamed of Italy--and whether in the balmy air, the sky lit up by stars
of seemingly unnatural brilliancy, the lake blue as a turquoise, I fancy
I see and feel the influence that renders every other land insipid after
this.
“Your letters forwarded to me from Rheineck arrived here to-day. I
have only to say how perfectly I concur with you in all that has been
done--anxiously hoping, of course, that a good issue may follow, but
quite satisfied to await with patience for the event. M’Glashan’s
conduct is indeed a puzzle. He received from me (at his own urgent
request too) a MS. on the 18th May. It was part of a small vol. which
he purposed to treat with me for.* Since then he has not even written to
acknowledge the receipt, much less to discuss the terms I proposed for
the work. Prior to that he and Orr [? intended] to pay me a visit. I
replied expressing my perfect readiness to receive them. But nothing
followed. I should now be greatly gratified at recovering my MS., and if
you could obtain it for me, Robert Maxwell of Gardiner Street would give
it to our old friend, John Maxwell, who has promised to spend some days
here on his way back to Florence, where he resides. I have not as
yet made--nor do I see any immediate hope of making--a new literary
engagement for the New Year, books and booksellers being at a discount.
If, then, I could, by any means, obtain a hold on my former books, I
would at once set about a new and cheap edition.
* ‘Tales of the Tyrol’
“I am so near the Swiss frontier--at the Canton of Tessin--that I prefer
making my post town there, where all newspapers are admitted freely.
Address me, then, Poste Restante, Chiasso, Switzerland.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Villa Lima, Como, _Sept_. 1, 1847.
“I send you herewith a letter received from Chapman this day. You will
see by one expression--the same crucible--that he, too, is [alive]
to the possibility of a reprint of my books himself. As to ‘Horace
Templeton,’--which is now my only spec,--it is a secret--to be published
without my name. I thereby receive a small sum, but I hazard no fame,
and would willingly try if, under a new sobriquet, I could lay siege to
a new public.
“Have you any reason to believe that £500 to £600 with my claim would
be accepted [for the copyrights]? I am more than ever eager to recover
them, because, during the reissue, I could lie by and yet have some
means of living till better bookselling days. Above all, obtain my MS.
from M’Glashan, for independently of his cavalier treatment of me, I
have now, _viâ_ ‘Horace Templeton,’ a local habitation to accommodate my
stray sheep withal. And this ‘Tyrol Tale’ will now do me good service.
Send it, therefore, and with it will you send the pages of my story
called ‘Carl Stelling, the Painter of Dresden,’ printed in the July
number of the D. U. M., 1845? M’Glashan could give the sheet without
destroying a number, but if not, buy one and tear it out. This also
finds a lodging in the Hôtel Templeton.
“I cannot thank you enough for all your kindness in writing to me--a
kindness that does not need the force of contrast (in others’ neglect)
to make it dearer. I am a bankrupt in thanks, and have coolly resolved
to die in your debt.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Villa Lima, Lago de Como, _Sept._ 20, 1847.
“We could never think of pushing Curry to a bankruptcy. If others take
this upon them we must abide by it, but I hope, for the poor man’s
sake, it may not be so.... M’Glashan scarcely deserves a paragraph....
O’Sullivan’s letter was in so far only an allusion to the affair at
issue--that is, he said, M’G. has, it appears, an MS. of yours in his
hands, which he will write to you about by this post or the following.
Four months ago he (M’G.) wrote to me asking, in eager terms, to see
this MS., and promising a reply upon it without the least delay,--since
which he has never once written, not even an acknowledgment of its
arrival.
“I would beg of you to keep the MS. by you--that is, if it should not
have already been forwarded to [catch] Maxwell in London. As to the
printed story,--‘Carl Stelling,’--will you scratch out the title at top,
and the words ‘by the editor’ carefully, and cross out the Introduction,
letting the tale begin by the words of the narrator--“There are moments
in life,” &c.,--and send it to Mr Chapman with a line to say that this
printed matter comes in after the MS. pages of chapter xi. of ‘Horace
Templeton’? I may here add that the aforesaid H. T. is already--so far
at least as eleven chapters go--in the printer’s hands. It is precious
bad stuff, and, worse still, very lachrymose and depressing--I mean, so
far as such very powerless trash can be--_Mais que vovlez-vous?_ And in
the present case I have laid the child at another man’s door, and will
never own him--if he doesn’t grow up more thrivingly than I hope for.
“You wouldn’t believe what difficulties the authorities here make about
the unhappy document. The Podesta is afraid of it! The Legation trembles
at it--the Commessario says it is ‘Peri-colosissimo!’ and how I am to
find an _employé_ courageous enough to look on while I sign it, I
cannot tell. I fear that in the end I must go up to Milan, where the
functionaries will possibly have more hardihood.
“I am greatly gratified that you have seen John Maxwell--whose visit I
look for with much pleasure. We have not met for seventeen years,--up to
that we had spent, nearly day-by-day, the previous ten or twelve years
always together. It will be curious for each to see time’s changes
in the other, and how far the opinions and tastes of the man already
steering round Cape Dangerous have diverged from (those of) the boy and
the youth. For myself, there are many [? changes] that I can recognise;
nor am I blind to the telling of coming years, which show me the
diminished sense of enjoyment I possess to heretofore,--how little I
value society, how tiresome I find what I hear are very pleasant people,
and so on. And without being actually old, I am old enough to think that
the world used to be pleasanter long ago, and that friends were more
cordial and more frank, and that there was more _laisser-aller_ in the
course of life than in these hardworking, money-seeking, railroading
days we’ve got now.
“The most enduring tastes a man can cultivate (avarice apart) are, I
believe, the love of scenery and music. There I feel stronger than ever:
the former has, perhaps from living a good deal alone, become a passion
with me, and I am better pleased to have glens, glaciers, and cataracts
than the fascinations of soirees and receptions.
“Keep ‘Horace Templeton’ quite _en cachet_, for though I suppose I shall
be known easily, I will not confess, but die innocent.
“We have very grave events happening here at Milan, but they are kept
quiet by the police, and even in society every one you ask on the
subject says--_Non e niente_: and so they will keep on saying till the
streets are barricaded, and the city in open revolt. Between ourselves,
the reform party here are great blackguards, and the Pope [? without
irreverence] an ass to think that moderate concessions and reasonable
privileges will content a mob, who only look for a new constitution as
an occasion for general pillage. It’s all very fine for ‘the gentlemen
of England, who live at home at ease,’ to say God-speed to the march
of Liberal opinions in other lands; but let them remember that our own
institutions took centuries to grow and to consolidate, and were often
shaken and menaced, and only at length firmly established by the
force of public opinion, which finds its exponent in aristocratic
institutions,--a hereditary peerage and a popular assembly, nearly
four-fifths of which is aristocratic. Try the same systems in other
countries, and see what will come of it. Get people to make laws who
never met for the voting of a parish cess or a penny poor rate; liberate
a press that only asks freedom that it may revel in libel; set up an
aristocracy that are uneducated and unreformed as objects of general
respect! No, no! If the Pope had contented himself with his first [?
effort], and swept the Church and its monastic institutions free from
abuses; had he examined into the state of charities and hospitals and
schools,--he would have done far more good, though far less obtrusively,
than by quarrelling with Austria, and fraternising with Mazzini & Co.
“There are rumours of an outbreak at Bologna; probably, my dear friend,
you have already sighed forth a wish that I was in the midst of it
rather than [that I should] inflict upon you this tiresome piece of
prolixity. But remember what the old woman said to the sentinel,
who threatened to put the bayonet into her hinder part--‘Divil thank
you--sure it’s yer thrade!’
“Fore God! I think a Bull from the Pope must be easy to obtain in
comparison with the formality of this unlucky document. I now enclose it
_en règle_.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Villa Lima, Lago de Como, _Oct_. 6, 1847.
“You say you are puzzled by what Chapman says as to my being charged
with the production (at least one-half cost) of unsold copies. Yet the
fact is precisely so. There were of ‘Hinton’ something above 16,000 sold
and somewhere like 20,000 printed, and with the interval between the
two amounts you will find that I am charged with a moiety of the cost of
producing. It was this fact, coupled with the trickery of a depreciatory
sale, that made Chapman pronounce the whole [? transaction] a cheat.*
* What Edward Chapman had actually written (some time
previously) was: “You have been in the hands of the
Philistines. It is these things which bring discredit on our
craft, and make authors look upon us as a set of ghouls
ready to eat them, body and bones--with a tendency to get
fat upon their brains. No doubt it was thought that you
would make a nice dish _curried._”--E. D.
“It was Chapman’s accountant who discovered M’Glashan’s status, [which]
is indeed the greatest mystery of all. How he could leave the concern so
deeply indebted I cannot conceive. Great sacrifices, I am sure, he made
to retain the Magazine, but the sum of £3000 must be six times more than
would purchase the D. U. M.
“Is it not possible that some day or other that same Magazine may be in
the market? If it were mine--solely--I would make £1000 out of it per
annum.
“I am sincerely gratified that you have read, and, better still, are
pleased with, my Tyrolean story. Had I not too just grounds to fear how
the very aspect of my hand-o’-write must weary you, I would have asked
you to read the MS. Now that you have done so, I may say that I wrote
it in the fulness of my heartfelt admiration for the land and the
people,--one in which and with whom I would feel delighted to linger out
whatever may remain to me of life.
“As for Como, I own I like it better every day I stay here; but if it
be very pleasurable it is costly. Every one here is rich,--millionaire
Russians and Lombards, Venetian Eccelenzas, Grandees d’Espagne, &c., are
around us on every side; and the whole Lake is a gala of gay gondolas
and dressy signoras, which figure not only reflected in the water, but
once more and less pleasantly in one’s bank account.
“Maxwell wrote to me from Paris, and I replied to him to Livonia, as
he desired; but he had not abandoned all idea of coming here, and was
making, as fast as the heavy mail and his bronchitis would permit, for
Florence.
“There is nothing really alarming in the state of affairs here. The real
fun is the stupid ignorance of the English press, who are hailing the
Pope and his reform party as though they were members of the Cobden
League.... The Pope is an ardent, simple-minded, well-intentioned man,
who sincerely desires amelioration of government, but the real movers
are the _pères_ Jesuits, who are trading, like certain speculators on
the Bourse, and making false purchases, to intrigue for a fall in the
Funds. They are speculating on the reaction that _must_ follow. Austria,
who hates and never has tolerated the residence of this party in her
states, is terrified--hence the occupation of Ferrara. Meanwhile the
English press swallows the bait and cries God speed the movement! Peel
at least is aware of the truth,--so much I know from my old friend Sir
H. S[eymour].”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Como, _Oct_. 19, 1847.
“We are again _en route_--this time with a long road before us--to
Florence....
“Chapman informs me that the [Curry] accounts are of such a nature
as totally to preclude his being able to form anything like a correct
estimate of the value of the property. He adds that there is a ‘juggle
somewhere,’ and suggests, with my concurrence, that he sends his own
accountant over to Dublin to investigate the concern,--of course the
cost of this step to be borne conjointly. I have at once acceded to this
request, for even if I did not coincide in the fitness, I yield to the
consideration that it engages Chapman in the affair, and thus renders
him more likely to become a whole or part proprietor of the books. His
becoming a republisher of them is the best--the only--guarantee I can
have for his continuing all dealings in the future. An honest man and a
prompt paymaster included in a publisher are very rare gifts, and I am
greatly indisposed to relinquish them. Besides, he has advanced me some
hundreds since I concluded my agreement, and unless I can manage to work
it out with him it would be a heavy encumbrance to pay if I had to treat
with other parties. This is my whole case; and if it be in some respects
a cloudy one, I have yet--thank God!--good health and good courage and
good spirits to meet it: and once this affair of the copyrights [is]
over, [I] will make a bold effort to go to work once more.
“I have now half written, and part printed, the affair called ‘Horace
Templeton,’ for which, being anonymous, I will only receive at first
£250--being, I greatly fear, about £240 above its value. But I felt it
easy on my conscience, as my name--such as it is--remains safe. There
are, I hope, some things in H. T. you will like. You who know me well
will see how much of the real man has oozed out, and how impossible
it has been to make the confessions of a diary purely fictitious.
This--which of course will have no interest for the public--will not
be without its interest for you, and I shall be impatient to hear your
opinion.”
Towards the end of October Lever, dazzling himself with prospects of
splendid economy, set out for Florence.
On this journey he sustained a grievous loss. The Austrian authorities
on the frontier seized all his papers, deeming them (Lever suggests)
to be “part of a treasonable correspondence--purposely allegorical
in form.” Amongst the lost documents were his University degree, his
commission in a Derry militia regiment, agreements with publishers,
private letters, and a protocol embodying the bargain between the
novelist and Commissary-General Mayne, which (for a small consideration)
entitled the author of ‘Charles O’Malley’ to introduce Mayne (with all
his faults and follies) to the public as “Major Monsoon.”
A search was instituted, after Lever’s death, for the ravished papers,
but the Austrian authorities could not, or would not, find them. An
official--most likely Major Dwyer--who interested himself in the matter
said, “I do not wonder at Lever having been suspected of _anything_,
travelling, as he did, with piebald ponies, and wife and children with
long flowing hair. The police could not make out what he was or might
not be; and then he had that peculiar way of treating officials that
seems to belong to many Irish persons whom I have known.”
The Levers entrenched themselves in “Casa Standish.” There was a
private theatre attached to the palazzo. In common with his contemporary
Dickens, Lever had a passion for theatrical entertainments. Mr Pearce
paid him a visit in November, and was pressed by his host to prolong the
visit for the purpose of playing “Joseph Surface” to Lever’s “Charles
Surface.”
The Irish novelist readily adapted himself to life in “the very
commercial but very profligate city of Florence” (as Father Prout
describes it). He even went so far as to continue some of those _outré_
displayings which had given offence to the inhabitants of another
grand-duchy: he drove his piebald cattle along the crowded avenue of
Le Cascine; and it was stated by unamiable people that he was at first
taken to be a circus proprietor.
He was soon well known in fashionable circles. Florentine clubs and
palaces extended their hospitality graciously; he was _persona grata_
at the British Embassy, where his old friend, Sir George Seymour, held
sway; he attended receptions at the brilliant court of the Grand Duke
of Tuscany. Lever describes the Grand Duke Leopold as one of the most
amiable of men and one of the weakest of sovereigns, able to keep
possession of his throne only by avowing his willingness to abandon it.
Florence was the gayest of Italian cities when Lever established himself
in the Palazzo Standish. The Cascine had special attractions for him.
Florence, he declares, was to the world of Society what the Bourse is
to the world of Trade. “Scandal here,” he goes on to say, “holds its
festival, and the misdeeds of every capital of Europe are discussed. The
higher themes of politics occupy but few; the interests of literature
attract still less: it is essentially the world of talk.” And as Lever
enjoyed conversation more than any other art or pastime, he revelled in
Florentine life.
Notwithstanding the negligent attitude of Florence towards the interests
of literature or its professors, many goodly British literary folk were
denizens of the beautiful city of “magnificently stern and sombre
streets.” Amongst these were Robert Browning and his wife, the vivacious
and prying Mrs Trollope, and the once famous scientist, Mrs Somerville.
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Florence, _Nov_. 24, 1847.
“....Except the most miserable piece of depressing twaddle,
yclept ‘Horace Templeton,’ the fruit of gloomy reveries and dreary
brain-wanderings, I have nothing _sur le tapis_, but I’ll try to set to
work once that our affair Curry is settled.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Palazzo Standish, Florence, _Feb_. 4, 1848.
“I have this day received yours of the 25th asking respecting the
insertion of ‘Hinton’ in ‘The Dublin University Magazine.’ This was done
with my permission though manifestly against my interest, as the sale
was thus rendered by so much less than we might reasonably have looked
for in the No. form. Of course, however, we cannot now complain that we
made a bad bargain; and as for the Currys, they will never allude to
a matter whose discussion would tell against themselves. The Magazine
history is this: When I was living in Brussels I received a letter
from M’Glashan saying that if I liked to come to Ireland to take the
editorship of the Magazine (which I had already expressed a strong wish
to do), they would guarantee me at least £2000 for the first year, and
after such a rate of remuneration as increased sales, &c, might warrant.
I came, and then, to my great disappointment, discovered that they
included the whole sum I had already contracted to receive for ‘Jack
Hinton’ in that same £2000 (viz., £1300), leaving me not £2000 but £700
for the editorship and authorship of the papers I wrote for ‘The Dublin
University Magazine.’ It was, however, too late to retract. I had given
up my profession, my station as attaché to the Embassy; my friends had
ceased to regard me as a doctor, and so I was in for it. If I bore up
tolerably well against this piece of trickery, it was really because
I had resolved, come what would, not to lose courage,--and so I did
continue for the very miserable three years I stayed in Ireland. I tell
this now--I believe I never did tell it to you before,--not that it may
in any way be of use or influence in the present conjuncture, but simply
as a circumstance to show that I have never been _exigeant_ or exacting
in my dealings with other folks. Nor when I had (as I still have) a
written pledge in my hands did I think its enforcement a matter of legal
redress.
“I hope, ardently, that in the end the books may find themselves in
Chapman’s hands; but I feel so assured that Curry is a trickster, and
that when his own narrow intelligence fails him he is always ready
to avail himself of any counselled iniquity, that I still fear the
termination of the affair.
“Do you see anything of M’Glashan, or hear of his doings? You are aware
that he never replied to me, and consequently all intercourse has ceased
between us. Is he like to weather the storm, or do you think that he
is outstaggering under the gale?
“The weather here is and has been delicious. I have never worn an upper
coat, and never been one day without several hours on horseback. Such a
climate I never believed to exist before.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer_.
“Bagni di Lucca, _Feb_. 26, 1848.
“I have just returned from a most interesting but somewhat precarious
journey--to carry despatches from our Ambassador here to the general
late in command of the Tuscan forces.* It was full of adventure and
strange incident, and although the revolutionary [? movement] has been
too rapid to make us more successful, the result has shown (which was a
great object) the disposition of the government of England towards the
fallen Grand Duke.
* General de Langier.
“I had a mountain range--one of the Apennines--to cross, with deep snow
and glaciers. Sixteen hours’ work to cross, of which only five could
be performed on horseback, the remainder being on foot and by night--a
night without a star too. This, with the consciousness that I had on
my person a letter to a man for whose head 20,000 dollars were offered,
made the attempt, to say the least, highly exciting. Well, here I am
again, and, thank God, nothing the worse, save in some fatigue which a
day or two will pull up.
“The revolutionary party here have conquered for the present--that is,
they have acquired the ascendancy of terror, precisely as the French
democrats obtained it by enlisting in their cause all the most infamous
and degraded criminals of the State, and this by the pressing threat
of a pillage and a sack deterring the quieter population from even a
murmur. The Grand Duke has fled to Gaeta, his life being no longer safe
at St Stephano; and as General de Langier’s troops have all accepted
service under the Provisional Government, all hope of return to his
throne is lost, except from foreign intervention.
“On Wednesday night last the peasantry--who are all loyal to the
sovereign--attempted a movement in Florence, but the civil guard closed
the gates and prevented entrance, and after some hours of drum-beating
and alarm-bells, quiet was restored.
“Piedmont would send 12,000 men to restore the Duke (six would do it)
if Gioberti were in the ascendant, but the hitch is that the radicals
of Genoa are themselves watching the Tuscan revolt as a matter for their
own [guidance]; and now we hear that Naples is again in open revolt,
showing that the whole outbreak of Rome, Tuscany, and Naples was a
preconcerted rising, planned and matured by the Mazzini faction. I began
to fear that the case is almost desperate, and that Monarchy, or, what
is better, Order and Legality, are doomed for a season at least in this
peninsula. Sir George Hamilton’s efforts have been unceasing to avert
the dangers, and to his skill and energy are owing even the length of
peace we have hitherto enjoyed. If you think that these few remarks are
of any interest, would you kindly send this to Sheehan, to whom I am
unable at this emergency to write more fully?...
“I am anxiously looking for the reply to your proposition [to Curry].
God grant it may be successful. It would set my mind at rest, for some
time at least.
“I am sorely afraid we must flit from this, which, if for no other
reasons than the financial ones (and there are a score of others), will
be a sad inconvenience to me; but I fancy we are about to have a taste
of a _republica rosa_, for which I feel anything but inclined to be the
witness.
“My wife and the weans are doing admirably. Although the events around
us are very alarming, we have lived long enough among the population of
this little locality to know and like the people, and, I flatter myself,
are well thought of by them. My fear is only for marauders--the usual
vagabonds who have deserted and are traversing the country in bands of
twenty and thirty. These are really to be dreaded. It would, of course,
be impossible to live long in a state of siege without suffering more
than any residence would requite. If, therefore, the reign of anarchy
here promises a continuance, I shall be off, but in what direction I
know not. The Alps are impassable to wheel-carriages, and to horses save
those in daily habit of passing, so that Switzerland is cut off; and
Lombardy, which is nearest, is not in the condition to make one seek
it. France, besides, is on the eve of another commotion. _Que faire?_
Meanwhile we have good courage and light hearts--at least, so far as the
danger goes.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Baoni di Lijoca, _March_ 20, 1848.
“....I am low in pocket and in hope. Perhaps it were better, as you
suggest, to draw near England,--but in reality it is as little my
country as America.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Bagni di Lucca, _April_ 21, 1848.
“I would suggest some compromise with Curry--[? a bargain] to
superintend an edition which would give me a regulated share of profits,
and spare me the mortification of being thrown upon the market in a
disgraceful and unauthorised fashion.... If Chapman would give £800 I
am quite ready to go half. I would go over at once, but really this is
a nervous moment to leave a family in Italy. Assassinations and pillage
are too rife to make absence easy. Besides, with two monthly Nos. to
supply and a very low exchequer, time and cash are grave obstacles.
“Natural smallpox of a most dangerous type is raging around us, and I
fear that I must run away to Florence--which, with a big tail of men and
maids, is something very formidable. I am the more inclined to yield
to my fears and fly, but my poverty should influence me in incurring a
considerable risk.
“The insurances are always in my thoughts.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Casa Standish, Florence, _May_ 27, 1848.
“As to the under-sale [i.e., selling at reduced prices], so little was
I aware of it that when in the January of 1845 Mr Pearce went to London
from Templeogue to negotiate the sale of ‘St Patrick’s Eve’ with Chapman
& Hall, Mr Chapman’s argument for offering a lower sum than I proposed
was that ‘Mr Lever’s works were in some instances advertised at
depreciated prices.’ Pearce wrote to me word of this, and, indignant
at what I believed to be a falsehood, I hurried in to Dublin and
asked M’Glashan how such a story could get abroad? He said he couldn’t
conceive how, for he knew there was no truth in it. But his hesitation
and confusion were extreme.
“If I could proceed against those parties who alleged having informed me
[of the under-sale] I would certainly do so. The whole case is evidently
now ‘up.’ I see no prospect of any benefit by further proceedings, and
if you are of my opinion that an Equity suit would serve me, I would
lie down under the wrong and leave it among the many hard rubs in life
I have suffered. If I understand the matter aright, I have no share
whatever in the proceedings of any sum to be obtained for the sale of
these works or copyrights, and very small prospects of any payment of
the debt they owe me. Be it so. Now, one last chance. If these works
are to be sold by auction, will their probable price be above the sum
Chapman would give? It would be well to communicate with him on this
subject....
“As to the rate or grade at which I was to be paid for the over-sale
after 11,000 of ‘Hinton,’ M’Glashan wrote to me one letter in which he
said: ‘The work will probably reach 20,000, in which case your profits
will be doubled.’ This letter, and all my papers and private letters,
MSS., &c., have been lost on the way from Como here--or, more probably,
destroyed by the police authorities,--so that ill-luck is of late no
stranger to me.
“My dear friend, I have written a very disjointed, ill-connected scrawl,
but I am a little ‘abroad,’ being in no wise prepared for the
tidings that have just reached me. On one point only am I calm and
collected,--the heartfelt gratitude I owe you for all you have done for
me.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Casa Capposi, Florence, _May_ 23, 1848
“If the copyrights were to revert to me, I would at once turn my steps
_towards_ England,--at least, so far as Switzerland or Belgium,--while
in the other alternative I’d make up my mind to remain here, which for
moneyed reasons is almost compulsory.
“I have been drawing on my new book, ‘Roland Cashel,’ so far in advance,
that I am unable to say how I shall get on as it draws near the end. We
are living in quietness here, with war and revolution on every side. A
new revolt at Naples has just _éclated_, in which the troops smashed
the mob. Meanwhile, five frigates of the Neapolitans are gone to assist
revolt in Venice. The Pope has been discovered playing double, and his
great popularity is gone. I fear Lombardy is lost to Austria. Internal
dissension at Vienna, revolt in Hungary and Bohemia, and desertion among
the troops in Italy, have scarce left a chance of recovering this best
and richest province. Florence, too, is ready to intervene, and then
comes a grand European war, in which England must choose her side and
join. I trust it may not be an alliance with France.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Casa Ximenes, Florence, _July_ 18, 1848.
“I would rather relinquish than contest a disputed right. I read
‘opinions,’ therefore, only as so many différent shades of probability
which can but little influence the judicial results, and I come ever
to the one same humiliating conclusion,--that it is better to treat
quasi-amicably with the rogues who have cheated us than to leave the
question to other as great rogues for decision.
“I would, therefore, as you suggest, advise with Chapman what steps
to take for the repurchase; and without submitting the tangled web of
disputed claims to renewed litigation, I would endeavour to [? obtain] a
demand for the _whole_ copyrights (subject, of course, to the diminution
my rights would inflict), and if possible purchase them.
“I conclude that the assignees will, from their triumph at the
Bankruptcy Court,--and such it is,--make a much higher demand than Curry
did formally; but I opine, from what Chapman says of the trade, that few
publishers, in London at least, would adventure upon a purchase where an
author assumed an ill-defined and illimitable claim.
“The great object would then appear to me: first, to ascertain their
expectations amicably, and if not such as I’ve prudently [? acceded]
to, to wait for the sales and stand among the bidders like every one
else,--of course taking care to make our protest against the right to
dispose of all the copyrights. This without any further recourse to
law or any single reference to lawyers or solicitors, I would strongly
advise.
“My present state is, financially speaking, pretty much that of the
present Government--a very lively system of daily disbursements and a
very meagre amount of receipts; so that, barely to live, I have eaten up
in advance half of ‘Roland Cashel,’ yea, even before he is written! But
for this I should have drawn closer to England this summer,--not for any
desire, God knows, to settle there, but to be near enough to London to
negotiate some literary speculation or other that might clear me out of
debt.
“I have not now means for this object, and must remain here,--no penance
if I had spirits and cash to make my mind easy.
“I believe you are quite correct in your view about M’Glashan, and the
only point of the case that now strikes me as worth anything is how far
his liability to the debt might be established.
“I am glad you like ‘Roland,’ which I did myself for half the first No.;
but he has slidden out of my favour since that. However, I will in parts
please you.
“Up to this moment Florence is the only tranquil spot in Europe. Naples,
Rome, Milan, Vienna, Baden, Paris, all convulsed; but here the slightest
disturbance is unknown. The truth is, there is a quiet peace-loving
population, and a government so mild as to be no government at all.
“I have often been tempted to send over something about the war in
Lombardy to the English papers, who have uniformly agreed up to this in
disseminating the most gross and absurd falsehoods about it; but I have
been deterred by thinking that of those who really might care for the
theme of foreign politics, the greater part are bigoted against Austria,
and the remainder indifferent to truth.
“The children are doing well, and fast becoming linguists. I wish there
were some career I could think of for Charley other than what is called
a profession. I have had some idea of the Navy for him, and although
a poor thing, yet [_some words illegible_]. He is very smart, and can
learn anything as quickly as any boy I ever met, so that it seems half a
pity to cover such gifts with a blue jacket.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Casa Ximenes, Florence, _Aug_. 12, 1848.
“....Truth is, I am stunned. The pressure that demands [? money] impedes
any fresh efforts on my part, and I sit down to work with a depressed
and jaded spirit. Nothing less nourishes than the head that is wet with
tears. ‘Roland,’ bad as it is, is therefore better than it might be.
“Do you deem all intercourse with M’Glashan inadvisable? It is the only
magazine where I should like to contribute, and if I could make any
terms for a series of papers I should soon be in a position to clear off
some of my debts. I cannot address him myself: if you chanced to meet
him you might feel the way.
“The Austrians have reconquered Lombardy and the whole of Italy, and, if
the French do not intervene, will soon be at peace.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Casa Ximenes, Florence, _Aug_. 19, 1848.
“....Although politically all looks more tranquil here, yet for personal
reasons I should draw somewhat nearer to England. I am hampered by the
difficulty of postal communication, and to go to London even alone and
back would cost me above £100. Otherwise I like the place better than
any I have ever known,--a climate beyond praise, a beautiful country,
excellent society, and perfectly sound liberty which lets you live in
the world or out of it exactly as suits your inclination. The heat, to
be sure, is great. 132° Fahrenheit yesterday on the terrace, and that at
five o’clock in the afternoon!
“I hope you continue to like ‘Roland Cashel.’ Has any one detected
Archbishop Whately as my Dean of Drumcondra? The whole _dramatis
per-sonæ_ are portraits.
“As to Ireland. All foreign sympathy is over, [? owing to] the late
cowardice and poltroonery of the patriots.* Even Italians can fight.
* See John Mitchel’s ‘Jail Journal’ for observations on this
observation.--E. D.
“As to the result of the attempt of Italian unity, however, the movement
here is a complete failure. Naples is at feud with Sardinia, Sardinia
with Tuscany, Home with all these; and if there be one man in all Italy
more hated than Carlo Alberto, it is the Pope. Pius IX. will in all
likelihood be _chassed_ this winter, and we shall have a Tipperary
season of assassination--as the natural subsidence of a defeated
outbreak--all over Southern Italy.
“We are going in a few days to Lucca and Via-Reggio for the sea-bathing,
which, at least for a week or so, is a matter of necessity in this very
roasting climate. The children have got the pale faces of the south
already, and it is buying the _Bocca Toscana_ somewhat dear to lose
their roses at so early an age.
“I am hesitating about the sea for Cha. He is a boy of very remarkable
capacity,--can learn anything, and at once,--and I really scruple at the
thought of immolating good talent in such a grave as the Navy.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer_.
“Casa Ximenes, Florence, _Sept_. 18, 1848.
“I have made a proposal to Chapman, but have not received his reply.
“If I could make any remunerative terms for a monthly series in a
magazine, I could easily manage to gather some suitable materials.
M’Glashan is, I suppose, a hopeless case. I have not been able to
revisit London. I fancy I could easily make out such a class of
engagement as would suit me, but the expense of the journey would be
very considerable.
“It is very hard, under such circumstances, to write anything
imaginative,--the stern cry of reality drowning the small whisperings of
fancy. _N’importe!_ I have pluck for almost anything when self-reliance
will pull through, and I am resolved, if I can, not to be swamped.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Bagni di Lucca, _Nov_. 1, 1848.
“Your letter of the 21st has this moment come to hand, and its last
paragraph would inevitably decide me upon going at once to England if
I had the means; but when I add the mercenary cost to the
fatigue, sea-sickness,--for I should go at least to Genoa by
steamer,--inconvenience of leaving wife and brats in a distant and not
over-quiet land, and, lastly, calculate how little my presence might
avail after, I grow faint-hearted at the ‘odds’ against me.
“My resolve is, therefore, to stay here, whither we have come for
economy, taking up our abode in a little inn in a sweet pretty
country--and, I confess it, with not a privation to make us feel that
prudence pays tax.”
[He then suggests the purchase of his books by Chapman,
offering Chapman as “a collateral security,” if he embarks
in the “spec,” an insurance policy. He does not desire to be
tied to Chapman, but sees that nothing can be done unless he
gets the books unfettered. He says he is in Chapman’s debt
in the first place, and secondly, that there is a loss in
repute in changing publishers, “always argued to the
detriment of the author.”]
“Chapman’s apathy is great on all subjects, nor is he likely to be more
alert here: first, that he never reaped the large profit from me that
he hoped; [secondly,] because I am his debtor--never a _couleur de rose_
portrait of any one....”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Bagni di Lucca, _Jan_. 20 [?1849].
“I write to announce to you that I have more need than ever of a little
good-luck, as I have this morning had a little girl--a very fat frowning
little damsel--added to my battalion. My wife--and that is the first
consideration in these cases--is doing admirably.... Have you received
‘Con Cregan’? Of course its paternity was plain to you. It is an effort
to work out of a bad and profitless year, with what result God knows.
“I hear from London that ‘Roland Cashel’ is regarded as the best thing
I have yet done, but also pronounced to be above the level of shilling
readers,--a species of flattery intended to convey that I am to take the
praise _vice_ the pence.
“I have written a paper on Italy for the Feb. No. of ‘The University,’
so that you see I am the author of other productions besides babies.
“Chapman has shown such a perfect indifference on the subject of the
copyrights, that I have not any hope of his mediation. I now regret that
I did not negotiate with Orr, who publishes ‘Con Cregan’ for me.”
During his first year in Florence Lever made the acquaintance of Miss
Mary Boyle, a daughter of Admiral Sir Courtenay Boyle. This clever lady
had published some verses and tales. She was a friend of Tennyson, of
Dickens, of the Brownings,* of G. P. R. James, and of other literary
people of note.
* Mrs Browning describes Miss Boyle in one of her letters to
Miss Mitford. “A kinder, more cordial little creature, fall
of talent and accomplishment, never had the world’s polish
upon it. Very amusing, too, she is, and original, and a good
deal of laughing she and Robert make between them.”--E. D.
In announcing the birth of his youngest daughter to Miss Boyle, Lever
styles the baby “another volume added to the domestic history in the
duodecimo shape of a daughter.... The necessity of quiet,” he adds,
“the pleasing features of this little place, and the utter dulness of
Florence, drove us here. What with horses and dogs and newspapers,
books to write and a baby to wait for, our winter has gone over most
pleasantly. We had no tramontane wind, no tea-parties, no morning
concerts.”
In a letter written in 1879, Miss Boyle gives an interesting description
of the Irish humourist. She recalls him as “one of the most genial
spirits” she had ever met. “His conversation was like summer
lightning--brilliant, sparkling, harmless. In his wildest sallies I
never heard him give utterance to an unkind thought. He essentially
resembled his works, and whichever you preferred, that one was most
like Charles Lever. He was the complete type and model of an
Irishman--warm-hearted, witty, rollicking, never unrefined, imprudent,
often blind to his own interests--adored by his friends, and the
playfellow of his children and the gigantic boar-hound he had brought
from the Tyrol.”
Miss Boyle relates a characteristic anecdote of her highly-lauded
friend. One afternoon at her house, where Lever was introduced to Lord
and Lady Spencer, the hostess took up a volume of Bret Harte’s works,
and read aloud one of the parodies of popular authors, selecting the
skit in which Lorrequer’s early manner is most funnily burlesqued. Lever
enjoyed the recitation, laughing heartily as his tormentor proceeded. He
was asked if he could name the author whose work was parodied. “Upon my
soul!” said he, “I must have written it myself--it’s so like me.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer_.
“Bagni di Lucca, _Feb_. 14, 1849.
“Chapman and I, without any formal document, have already come to an
understanding respecting the [? copyrights], should we be successful
in obtaining the books. There will be many points to arrange finally
between us,--some of them nice ones,--inasmuch that of ‘O’Leary’ I
possess the sole copyright; but from his previous honourable dealings
and his general character for fairness, I anticipate no difficulty
whatever in establishing a perfectly just and equitable transaction. For
my future advantage I should rather that Chapman had these copyrights
in his hands, even though I never were to benefit one shilling by their
sale, because it secures to me--what in these eventful and changing
times is of paramount importance--a permanent demand for my labour.
Hence my anxiety, hence all my eagerness, that he and not another should
be the purchaser.
“My wife and baby are doing most favourably. The latter promises to be
the prettiest of the lot, and the others are growing up handsome.
Julia is very nearly as tall as myself, and a fine and high-spirited
happy-minded girl. Charley promises to be very clever, and Pussy--No
3--a most gifted child, requiring all our care to keep her faculties
from running wild.
“We are in full revolution here. The Grand Duke has fled. The
usual farce of a provisional government elected: forced
loans--bankruptcy--brigandage, are all at work, and we look for pillage
and the barricades. But somehow, like eels getting used to be skinned,
one begins nowadays to get indifferent to carnage and rapine, and to
think that grape and canister are among the compliments of the season.
“I send off my bulletin to ‘The Mail’ from time to time, and I wrote a
long paper on Italy in the last ‘University Magazine.’
“I am heartily glad you like ‘Roland,’ which I hope is better than its
predecessors.
“‘Con Cregan’ is a secret, and I hope will remain so. It is atrociously
careless and ill-written, but its success depending on what I know to be
its badness, my whole aim has been to write down to my public.”
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
“Bagni di Lucca, _April_ 17, 1849.
“I confess myself at a dead loss what to counsel. My only opinion (and I
have come to it after much thought) is this:--
“In the event of Chapman consenting to advance the sum and not
succeeding--or in the case of his unwillingness to make such
proposal,--I would at once [? dispose of] the copyrights in the usual
formal manner, but would take no steps by newspaper advertisement,
inasmuch as this would give the impression of illegality on our part.
“It would be also well to ascertain if we could not restrain any future
sale of stock at depreciated prices. If this required a Chancery order,
I would be slow to resort to such means for fear of [? legal] expense.
“Chapman, from whom I had a letter two days ago, thinks that it is the
stock and not the copyrights that Curry is now negotiating, but he owns
himself baffled by the roguery of this conduct.
“Do you think that anything would be obtained by my going over to
Ireland?... I am really exhausted in resources, and can add nothing to
this.
“I am very uneasy about my insurances: my means of late--although
working an opposition coach to myself--are very considerably diminished
(political causes having damaged book-writing to a fearful extent), so
that I wish to know have you anything of mine to meet the Globe policy,
and whether at next period of payment the Guardian will be able to meet
its own demand on the accumulated profits?
“I ask this now, but I regret to say that it will puzzle me sorely what
to do if I am called upon, but I ought to learn it in time, so as to
make what provision I can.
“All post communications with England ceased for eleven days during the
Genoa insurrection....
“The mail-boats were twice burned going from this, and I (with my
accustomed luck) lost a whole number of ‘Roland Cashel’--twelve days’
work, of which I have, of course, not a note or memorandum. The proof of
‘Con’ is also lost, so that if it appears next month it will be with all
the printer’s imperfections as well as my own.
“I have met with the accompanying advertisement [from a tutor]. Could
you find out who he is, what he is like, and if he would feel inclined
to reside on the Continent?... I am sorely in want of some means of
educating the children, who are far more intelligent than instructed.
“The political reaction here is complete: the Grand Duke very soon will
be expected back again, and Italy be ‘as you were.’
“I wonder if Mr M’Glashan wrote to me, and that his letter has been
lost? I asked for proofs of my two papers on Italy, ‘Italy and the
Italian Tourists,’ which I greatly desire to have.”
At the Baths of Lucca, in the summer of 1849, Lever was introduced to
the Brownings. Mrs Browning’s first impression of him is confided to
Miss Mitford, in a letter dated August 31, 1849:* “A most cordial,
vivacious manner, a glowing countenance, with the animal spirits
predominant over the intellect, yet the intellect by no means in
default; you can’t help being surprised into being pleased with
him, whatever your previous inclination may be. Natural, too, and a
_gentleman_ past mistake.
* ‘The Letters of Mrs Browning,’ edited by Frederic G.
Kenyon (Smith, Elder, & Co.)--E. D.
His eldest daughter is nearly grown up, and his youngest six months old.
He has children of every sort of intermediate age almost, but he himself
is young enough still. He seems to have spent nearly his whole life
on the Continent, and by no means to be tired of it. Not the slightest
Irish accent.” *
Miss Mitford** was a staunch admirer of Lever. “I think him,” she said,
“one of our best living writers of fiction.” She must have expressed
her appreciation to Mrs Browning, for the latter writes in the autumn
of 1849 to the author of ‘Our Village’: “I told Mr Lever your opinion of
him, dearest friend, and then he said, all in a glow and animation, that
you were not only his own delight but the delight of his children,
which is affection by refraction, isn’t it?” Then follows a further
description of the Irish novelist and of his ways. “Not only,” says
Mrs Browning, “is he the notability _par excellence_ of these Baths
of Lucca, where he has lived a whole year during the snow upon the
mountains, but he presides over the weekly balls at the Casino, where
the English do congregate (all except Robert and me), and is said to
be the light of the flambeaux and the spring of the dancers. There is a
general desolation when he _will_ retire to play whist. In addition to
which he really seems to be loving and lovable in his family. You always
see him with his children and his wife; he drives her and her baby up
and down along the only carriageable road of Lucca--so set down that
piece of domestic life on the bright side in the broad charge against
married authors; now do! I believe he is to return to Florence this
winter with his family, having had enough of the mountains.”
* “Lever’s accent,” according to Major Dwyer, “was _au
fond_ Dublinian.” “He never dropped his Irish manner or his
Irish tongue,” says Anthony Trollops, who was an excellent
judge of Irish manners and dialect. _Tot homines, quot
aures!_--E. D.
** In 1843 Lever had made in his Magazine a special appeal
to his readers to testify their gratitude to the author of
‘Our Village,’ by subscribing to a fund which had been
started for her benefit.--E. D.
As he had been the life and soul of social enjoyment at the Baths of
Lucca, so was he the life and soul of Anglo-Florentine society when he
returned to Florence. One of his numerous friends of the period declares
that his appearance in the Cascine always provoked attention. His manner
of riding was, if anything, less graceful than it used to be in his
Templeogue days, when he clattered into Dublin city: he did not rise
in the stirrups, but allowed himself to be jogged up and down like
a trooper. Dr Fitzpatrick conjectures that “the shaking to which
he surrendered himself was meant as a counter-irritant to sedentary
habits.” Though at this time he did not speak Italian fluently, he was
able to hold his own in the language. Being unlucky enough to embroil
himself in a small lawsuit, he decided to conduct his own case. He was
warned that this would be courting defeat; but his confidence in himself
was unshaken, and not only did he plead his own cause, but he gained a
verdict in his favour.
He tells a tale of another case in which (also pleading his own cause)
he did not make so successful an advocata In front of his Florentine
house was a terrace reached by a flight of steps. This was a favourite
lounging-place for the novelist. One day his reveries were disturbed by
a visitor who presented a bill. The visitor was a tailor, and the
bill was a monstrous document. Lever protested vehemently against
the charges, and the tailor protested that they were moderate. In his
endeavour to convince the novelist of his rectitude, the visitor became
wildly excited, and, moving backwards, he fell headlong down the flight
of steps. Lever was summoned, and the tailor swore that his accident was
due to alarm caused by the threatening manner of the Englishman,--it was
owing to his eagerness to escape from assault that he had fallen down
the steps. Lever denied that he had done or said anything which would
indicate a possible assault. The court inquired how could the defendant
account for the panic-stricken condition of the man. “On two grounds,”
replied Lever, flippantly; “he is a tailor and a Tuscan.” Needless
to say, the Tuscan court awarded the plaintiff ample damages. When he
released himself from his writing-table, and when he was not riding or
driving with his family, he was to be found in the clubs, or in salons,
or at receptions at the Grand Duke’s. He divided his leisure moments
between whist-playing and conversation. Occasionally he danced--when
dancing was the order of the night,--his wife, as a general rule, being
his partner. It is said that he was never at his best in the society of
literary ladies, and that he was particularly nervous in the company
of Mrs Trollope. Possibly he was in dread that this authoress might be
taking a leaf out of his own book and endeavouring to make a character
sketch of him. “It was amusing,” says a friend, “to observe his
transparent manoeuvrings to avoid Mrs Trollope as a whist-partner; and
it was equally amusing to observe Mrs Trollope’s undisguised desire to
secure Lor-requer as her partner.”