Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Trieste, _Wednesday_, March 29.
"I believe what I now send you is good, but I will not be certain till I hear you are of the same mind. The truth is, I am so broken in courage as well as health, that it is only the continued insistence of my daughters drives me to the desk at all, and they are perhaps only minded thereto by seeing the deep depression in which I live, and which they ascribe to idleness.
"I hope at all events to hear from you soon, with tidings of the great paper, and if soon after with proof of the present, _tant mieux_.
"I believe I have seen my last of London, and I am sorry for it, and sorrier not to see you again,--not but I feel you would scarce care to meet me, depressed and low-spirited as I am now.
"I have just seen the aide-de-camp the Emperor here sent to Berlin, and who had a confidential interview with Bismarck.
"The Prussians are furious with us, and not over friendly with Russia.
Bismarck even said that if Austria should be attacked by Russia they will stand by her, but not support her in any aggressive policy. He added, 'Do what you like with Turkey, but don't interfere with the German rights on the Danube.'"
"If Bright had been still in the Ministry I could have understood Henry Bulwer being made a peer as a subtle attack on the House of Lords. What it means now I cannot guess.
"If I was not an official with a uniform and a quarter day (both d------d shabby), I'd make an O'D. on the Princess's marriage in this way. The Queen, seeing the impossibility of elevating English democracy, sees that she has but one other thing to do, which is to come down to it. This is like old Sheridan, when appealed to by a drunken man in the gutter, 'Lift me up, lift me,' replying, 'I can't lift you up, but I'll lie down beside you.'"
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Trieste, _April_ 16, 1871.
"I have got a short leave, and having determined to venture on the road, I mean to start on Wednesday, and, if I can, reach town by Sat.u.r.day next. My plan is--as I want to go over to Ireland--to do my 'Irishries'
until such time as you arrive in London, where, I need not say, I have no object more at heart than to meet you and Mrs Blackwood.
"If I could manage a rapid run south and west in Ireland, I'll try what I could do as 'A Last Glimpse of Ireland,' and only wish I had a little more strength and more spirit for the effort.
"Write me a line to meet me in town (at Burlington Hotel) to say when I may hope to see you--to see you both, I mean."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"[? London] _Tuesday_, April 25, 1871.
"What with being nearly driven over ten times a-day, and the certainty of being over-dinnered at night, I have a perilous time of it here.
"I was delighted to get your cordial note, and more so to count upon seeing you so soon, and I hope, too, Mrs Blackwood with you. My plans are to visit Ireland at once, so as to have as much of London as I can when you shall have arrived.
"How I would wish to have you over with me in Ireland, but I suppose the thing is impossible.
"I have got an autumn invitation to Sir Healy Maxwell, and if we could manage it perhaps we could then make a little Killarney excursion together. _Nous en parlerons!_
"I wish I may see and be able to record something in my new ramble worth sending to 'Maga,'--at least I will try.
"They tell me here that the Tories might come in at any moment by a snap vote with the Radicals, but that they are too wise to be tempted.
"I hear that Tichborne is certain to win his suit: indeed fabulous odds are laid in his favour."
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
"Garrick Club, London, _April_ 25, 1871.
"I am here in the midst of civilities and attentions more than enough to turn my poor head; but I mean to run over to Ireland and be there on Sunday next, and, if not inconvenient, would ask you to tell Morrison's people to keep a room for me as low down--that is, with as few steps to mount--as they can, always provided that the room be large and airy.
I intend to take some hurried rambles through the south and west to refresh memories and lay in new stores, if I can." Lever arrived in Ireland at the end of April. He was in excellent spirits, and apparently in a more even frame of mind than he had been during his previous visit.
Again he found himself in a vortex of dining, whisting, talking, and laughter. Lord Spencer, who was Viceroy of Ireland at this period, made the author of 'Lord Kilgobbin' his guest for some days at the Viceregal Lodge. Lever "charmed and entertained" Lord and Lady Spencer. Bishops, military folk, judges, doctors, professors, vied with each other for the privilege of securing the novelist's company at dinner-tables and receptions. Morrison's hotel, where he had engaged rooms, was besieged by callers. One of these gives a very pleasant glimpse of the Irish novelist. "I found him seated," he says, "at an open window, a bottle of claret at his right hand and the proof-sheets of 'Lord Kilgobbin' before him. It was a beautiful morning of May: the hawthorns in the College park were just beginning to bloom.... He looked a hale, hearty, laughter-loving man of sixty. There was mirth in his grey eye, joviality in the wink that twittered on his eyelid, saucy humour in his smile, and _bon mot_, wit, and rejoinder in every movement of his lips. His hair, very thin but of a silky brown, fell across his forehead, and when it curtained his eyes he would jerk back his head--this, too, at some telling crisis in a narrative.... He made great use of his hands, which were small and white and delicate as those of a woman. He threw them up in ecstasy or wrung them in mournfulness--just as the action of the moment demanded.... He was somewhat careless in his dress, but clung to the traditional high s.h.i.+rt-collar.... 'I stick to my Irish shoes,' he said. 'There is no shoe in the world--or no accent either--equal to the Irish brogue.'" Trinity College decided to confer upon him the t.i.tle of Doctor of Laws--the actual bestowal of the t.i.tle did not take place until July--and played whist with him. The University Club gave a dinner in his honour. Standing with his back to a chiffonnier, he remarked to a friend that most of the old faces had disappeared. "You still have some friends at your back," said his companion; and turning to see who they were, the novelist beheld some volumes of his own writings. Taking up 'Harry Lorrequer,' he observed, "A poor thing. How well Phiz ill.u.s.trated it!" One of the calls he made during this visit to Dublin was at the house of Sheridan le Fanu. The author of 'Uncle Silas' was in an extra gloomy mood, and he denied himself to his old comrade. He was more fortunate with another friend, Sir William Wilde. Lever was beginning to suffer from dimness of sight. The eminent oculist a.s.sured him that there was nothing radically wrong with his eyes--that the difficulty arose out of late suppers. Every one who met him during his last visit to Dublin declared that 'Lorrequer' had never been so agreeable, so fascinating, so buoyant. The ramble through the south and west of Ireland was not undertaken. Dublin festivities had weakened the novelist's will. He said goodbye to Ireland in May, and made a short stay in London. He enjoyed again in London the company of all that was bright and lively, himself the brightest and liveliest. He made some heavy losses at whist, but his ill-luck had a sunny side. It encouraged him to call upon Mr W. H.
Smith, whose firm now owned most of his copyrights; and Mr Smith, it is said, gave Lever a very considerable sum of money on account of payments to be made to him for a series of autobiographical prefaces to his novels.
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
"Trieste, _June_ 14, 1871.
"It is in no ingrat.i.tude for all the hospitalities and courtesies I have lately received that I say I was glad to be once more in my cottage, and back in the calm, quiet, and comfortable little crib I call my home.
"I was present in court at the Tichborne examination of Thursday last, and a more miserable spectacle of evasion, falsehood, and shame I never witnessed; but in these depreciations of the man's character I see no reason to dispute his ident.i.ty,--on the contrary, the blacker he is, the more, to my thinking, he is a Tichborne. At the same time, juries do not confine themselves to the issue they have to try, but are swayed by moral reasons outside the legal ones, and may in all likelihood scruple to endow with fortune such a palpable scoundrel.
"My last dinner in London was with Ballantine, and he persists in believing the claimant to be the real man; but I do not perceive that he is confident of the verdict."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Trieste, _July_ 2, 1871.
"I am so anxious to be early that I send you the three O'Ds. I have written this very moment. I have finished them, and so near post hour that I have scarce time for a line to say that I am at home again, and have brought back a fair stock of the good health my visit to town gave me, and a large budget of the pleasure and kind flatteries which every one bestowed on me when there,--narratives my daughters delight in, and in which your name and your wife's come in at every moment and to meet all our grat.i.tude in recognition.
"I hope you will like the O'Ds., and think they have not lost in vigour because of my late excesses in turtle and whitebait.
"When you send me a proof, tell me all you think of them, and if anything occurs to me in the meanwhile, I'll speak of it.
"Tichborne I incline to think the real man, and the blacker they make him the more certainly they identify him: so far I regard Coleridge as his best advocate. Of course, I must not speak of the case till it is concluded."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Trieste, _July_ 5, 1871.
"As I had finished the enclosed O'D., I read how Trinity had made me LL.D. The degree must not be exported to me in grat.i.tude. I really believe a large amount of what I have said, which is more than can be a.s.serted by Tichborne, or the man who says he is Tichborne.
"It is a great grief to me that I cannot say what I think of that curious trial, and all that I should like to say of the solicitor to the Crown's examination; but I see it would be too dangerous, and, to use his own style, I might ask myself, 'Would you not be surprised to hear that an attachment was issued against you?'"
"The hot weather has begun here, and in such honest earnest that I can do nothing but hunt out a dark cool corner and go to sleep.