* Mr Blackwood proposed that Lever should pay a visit toGreece, for the purpose of making investigations about anact of brigandage which had shocked the civilised world. Aparty of English tourists, which included Lord and LadyMuncaster, had been seized by brigands at Oropos, nearMarathon. During the course of the negotiations for theransom of the tourists, some members of the British Legationat Athens had been murdered. Many influential Greeks wereconniving at the act of brigandage, and matters were at thistime in a very disturbed condition in high quarters.—E. D.
“Erskine is an old friend of mine, but he is a very self-contained and reserved fellow, who will reveal nothing, and I would be glad of some Greek introductions to any persons not officially bound to sustain the Queen’s Cabinet. My wish would be to take the Constantinople boat that leaves on Saturday next, the 4th, and reaches Athens on Thursday following, 9th; but if my leave is not accorded me by telegraph I cannot do this, and there is onlyoneboat in the week. I have to-day seen a private telegram from M. W———, the Greek Minister to the Austrian government here, saying that he is on the track of this most infamous outrage, and that if his suspicion prove true, some men of political eminence will have to fly from Greece for ever.
“I cannot thank you enough for your kind and affectionate remembrance of me: it is very dear to me such friendship in this dark hour of my life. There is something gone wrong with the action of my heart, and I have short moments when it seems disposed to give in,—and indeed I don’t wonder at it.
“As there would be no time to send me letters here in reply to this, write to me addressed British Legation, Athens—that is, taking for granted that I shall start on Saturday next.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,June4, 1870.
“I have looked out anxiously for a note from you these last couple of days. I hope you got my telegram safely. Yesterday I received a telegraphic despatch from F. O. saying my ‘leave was granted,’ and I sail now in two hours. If I find that my heart disturbance—which has been very severe the last couple of days—increases on me, I shall stop at Corfu and get back again at my leisure. I do not know if there is much to be learned at Athens that Erskine has not either gleaned ormuddled, but I will try and ascertain where the infamy began.
“I used once to think that the most sorrowful part of leaving home was the sad heart I left behind me. I know now that there is something worse than that—it is to carry away the sadness of a desolate heart with me.
“I believe the post leaves Athens for the Continent on Saturdays: if so, and that I arrive safely on Thursday 9th, I shall write to you by that mail.
“My affectionate remembrances to Mrs Blackwood.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Athens, Hôtel d’Angleterre,June9,1870.
“Here I am, in poor Vyner’s quarters: but short as the time is since my arrival, it has taught me that there is nothing, or next to nothing, to be learned. The amount of lying here beats Banagher—indeed all Ireland. However, I will try and make arésuméof the question that will be readable and, if I can, interesting.
“I am a good deal fagged, but not worse for my journey, and, on the whole, stronger than when I started.
“I thought I should have had some letter from you here, but possibly there has not been time.
“If Lord Carnarvon knew of my direct source of information it would be of great use; for the Legation and Finlay, whom I have seen, are simply men defending a thesis, and so far not to be relied on.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Athens, June 17,1870.
“I send you a hurried line to catch F. O. messenger, who is just leaving. I want merely to say that I have got together a considerable number of facts about brigandage altogether, and the late misfortune in particular, and only wait till I get back to put them into shape. Keep me a corner, then, not for next No. but August, and I hope I shall send something readable.
“I have met much courtesy and civility here, but I am dying to get home. My palpitations still trouble me, and if I don’t actually faint, I suppose it is that I don’t know how.
“I have been anxiously looking out for letters from you, and now I am off to Corinth, and shall work my way back through the islands.
“Do you know that if any of the blunders had failed, these poor fellows would now have been alive! and even with the concurring mistakes of [? ], Erskine, and [? ], they would not have succeeded if the rains had not swollen the streams and made them unfordable. It is the saddest story of cross-purposes and stupidities I ever listened to in my life.”
To Mr William Blackwood.
“Trieste,June30,1870.
“I have just reached home, and send you at once what I have done, and what may still require a page or two to complete. Not knowing where your uncle is, and not liking to incur the delay of sending on a wrong errand if he should have left London, I hope he may like what I have written, which, whether good or bad, I can honestly declare has occupied all my sleeping and waking thoughts these last four weeks, insomuch that I have never looked at the [? proofs] of a story* that must begin next Augustà contrat, and for which I can feel neither interest nor anxiety. Indeed, I am in every way ‘at the end of my tether,’ my journey, and certainly my heart symptoms are greatly diminished, and the sooner I shut up altogether the better will it be for that very little scrap of reputation which I once acquired.
* ‘Lord Kilgobbin.’
“I am very ‘shaky’ in health, but very happy to be again at home with my dear girls, who never weary of kindnesses to me, and who would give me comfort if I could be comforted.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,July1,1870.
“Your letter just reached me by a late post as I was sending off this packet. I write a line to thank you, and say how happy it made me to see your handwriting again.
“My daughters find me looking much better for
“It is quite true ‘this Greek story is a very strange one’; whether we ever shall get to the bottom of it is very doubtful. I believe the present Cabinet in Greece are dealing fairly with Erskine now,—partly from a hope that it is the best policy—partly from believing that England will resent heavily any attempt at evasion. Of Noel I have great distrust; he has been brought up amongst Greeks—and even Greek brigands—of whom he speaks in terms of eulogy and warmth that are (with our late experiences) positively revolting.
“I hope you will like what I have written. I have given it my whole thought and attention, and for the last four weeks neither talked, reflected, or speculated on anything but the Marathon disaster. I saw Finlay, who is very old and feeble, and I thought mentally so too.
“I wonder will the new Secretary at F. O. act energetically about Greece? I have grave doubts that Gladstone will make conciliation the condition of his appointment. We are in a position to do whatever we like: the difficulty is to know what that should be. To cause the misfortune [? ], the blunders of [? ] & Co. would not have succeeded without the heavy rain that made the rivers impassable and retarded the movements. In fact, such a combination of evil accidents never was heard of, and had anybody failed in anything they did, the poor fellows would now be living.
“I am glad to think Oliphant will come back to the world again,—these genial fellows are getting too rare to spare one of the best of them to barbarism. I should like to meet him again.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,July9, 1870.
“I have just received your cordial note, and write at once to say how sorry I am not to be able to do a sketch of Lord C[larendon]. First of all, I have not anything that could serve to remind me of his career. I know he was a Commissioner of Customs in Ireland, an Ambassador in Spain, and a Viceroy in Dublin, but there ends my public knowledge of him. Personally I only remember him as a very high-bred and courteous gentleman, who made a most finished manner do service for wit (which he had not), and a keen insight into life, especially foreign life, of which he really only knew the conventional part. If I had the materials for his biography I would not hesitate about the sketch, but it is as well (foryou) that I have not, for I should not do it well, and we should both of us be sorry at the failure.
“I’ll tell you, however, who could and would do it well, Rob. Lytton, who married his niece, and is now at Knebworth.Heknew Lord C. intimately, and had exactly that sort of appreciation of him that the public would like and be pleased to see in print.
“I don’t think Dickens’ memory is at all served by this ill-judged adulation. He was a man of genius and a loyal, warm-hearted, good fellow; but he was not Shakespeare, nor was Sam Weller Falstaff.
“I hope you will like my Greek paper. I cannot turn my mind to anything else, and must add some pages when I see the proof. I hear there will be no Greek debate, as all parties are agreed not to discuss Lord C.‘s absurd concession about the ship of war to take off the brigands,—a course which would have given Russia such a handle for future meddling, and left us totally unable to question it.
“My journey has certainly done me good. My flurried action of the heart has greatly left me, and except a sense of deep dreariness and dislike to do anything—even speak—I am as I used to be.
“I’d say time would do the rest if I did not hope for something more merciful than time and that shall anticipate time: I mean rest—long rest.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Aug. 4, 1870.
“I was conning over the enclosed O’D. when your letter came this morning,—and of late the post misses three days in five,—and I believe I should have detained my MS. for further revision, but I cannot delay my deepest thanks for your munificent remittance. I have not now to be told so to feel how much more you were thinking of me than of Greece when you advised this journey. Be assured that in the interest you felt for me in my great sorrow I grew to have a care for life and a desire to taste its friendships that I didn’t think my heart was capable of. I know well, too well, that I could not have written anything that could justify such a mission—least of all with a breaking heart and an aching head,—but I was sure that in showing you how willing I was to accept a benefit at your hands I should best prove what a value I attached to your friendship, and how ready I was to owe you what brought me round to life and labour again. I do fervently hope the Greek article may be a success; but nothing that it could do, nor anything that I might yet write, could in any way repay what I am well content should be my great debt to your sterling affection for me,—never to be acquitted—never forgotten.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 7, 1870.
“I am full sure that nothing but war will now be talked, and so I send another bellicose ‘O’Dowd’ to make up the paper. I hope there may be time for a proof; but if not, my hand is so well known to you now, and you are so well aware of what I intended where I blotch or break down, it is of less consequence.
“This Wissembourg battle was really a great success; and I don’t care a rush that the Prussians were in overwhelming numbers. May they always be so, and may those rascally French get so palpably, unmistakably licked that all their lying press will be unable to gloss over the disgrace.
“If L. Nap. getsonevictory he’ll go in for peace and he’ll have England to back him; and I pray, therefore, that Prussia may have the first innings, and I thinkPariswill do the rest by sending the Bonapartes to the devil.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 14.
“An idea has just occurred to me, and on telling it to my daughters they wish me to consult with you on it. It is of a series of papers, therationaleof which is this:—
“All newspaper correspondence from the war being interdicted, or so much restricted as to be of little value, I have thought that a mock narrative following events closely, but with all the licence that an unblushing liar might give himself, either as to the facts or the persons with whom he is affecting intimacy, and this being done by Major M’Caskey, would be rather good fun. I would set out by explaining how he is at present at large and unemployed, making the whole as a personal narrative, and showing that in the dearth of real news he offers himself as a military correspondent, whose qualifications include not only special knowledge of war, but a universal acquaintance with all modern languages, and the personal intimacy of every one from the King of Prussia to Mr Cook the excursionist. This is enough for a mere glimpse of the intention, which, possibly, is worth consideration. Turn it over in your mind and say has it enough in it to recommend it? I know all will depend on how it is done, and I have no sanguine trust in myself now, either for nerve or ‘go,’ and still less for rattling adventures, but yet the actual events would be a great stimulant, and perhaps they might supply some of the missing spirit I am deploring.
“I don’t know that I should have written about thisnow, but the girls have given me no peace since I first talked of it, and are eternally asking have I begun Major M’Caskey’s adventures. Your opinion shall decide if it be worth trial.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Aug.29,1870.
“A post that takes seven days (and travels, I believe, over Berlin and part of Pomerania) before it reaches Vienna, warns me to be early, and so I despatch these two O’Ds. to see if you like them as part of next month’s envoy.
“Of course, people will admit of no other topic than the war or the causes of it. As the month goes on new interests may arise, and we shall be on the watch for them.
“Be assured ‘The Standard’ is making a grave blunder by its anti-Germanism, and English opinion hasjust nowa value in Germany which, if the nation be once disgusted with us, will be lost for ever.
“Even Mr Whitehurst of ‘The Daily Telegraph’ gives the Emperor up, and how he defers his abdication after such a withdrawal of confidence is not easy to say.
“I don’t suspect that the supremacy of Prussia will be unmitigated gain to us—far from it; but we shall not be immediate sufferers, and we shall at least have the classic comfort of being the ‘last devoured.’
“I hope you gave Lord Lytton and myself the credit (that is due to us) of prophesying this war.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Sept. 1, 1870.
“I have so full a conviction ofyourjudgment and such a thorough distrust of my own, that I send you a brief bit of M’Caskeyfor your opinion. If you like it, if you think it is what it ought to be and the sort of thing to take, just send me one line by telegraph to say ‘Go on.’ I shall continue the narrative in time to reach you by the 18th at farthest, and enough for a paper. Remember this—thereal war narrativeis already given and will continue to be given by the newspapers, and it is only by amockpersonal narrative, with the pretentious opinions of this impudent blackguard upon all he sees, hears, or meets with, that I could hope for any originality.
“My eldest daughter is very eager that I should take your opinion at once, and I am sure you will not think anything of the trouble I am giving you for both our sakes.”
To Mr William Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sep. 2, 1870.
“What a kind thought it was to send me the slip with Corkhardt’s paper! It is excellent fun, and I send it to-day to the Levant to a poor banished friend on a Greek island.
“I regard the nation that thrashes France with the same sort of gratitude I feel for the man who shoots a jaguar. It is so much done in the interests of all humanity, even though it be only a blackguard or a Bismarck who does it.
“I send you an O’D. to make enough for a short paper with the other sent on Monday last.
“I sent your uncle a specimen page of M’Caskey, but by bad luck I despatched it on my birthday, the 31st August,* and, of course, it will come to no good. It was Dean Swift’s custom to read a certain chapter of Job on his birthday, wherein the day is cursed that a man-child was born. I don’t go that far, but I have a very clear memory of a number of mishaps (to give them a mild name) which have taken this occasion to date from. It would be very grateful news to me to learn I was not to see ‘another return of the happy event,’ but impatience will serve me little, and I must wait till I’m asked for.”
* The statement here as to his birthday is sufficientlyexplicit See vol. i p. 2.—E. D. the credit of reviewing‘Lothair,’ I am determined to say that these papers werewritten by Colonel Humbug!
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept11,1870.
“Since I got your ‘go on’ I have never ceased writing about M’Caskey. Upon you I throw all the responsibility, the more as it has very nearly turned myownbrain with its intrinsic insanity.
“I suppose I have sent you folly enough for the present month; and if you will write me one line to say you wish it, I will set to work at once at the next part and to the extent you dictate.
“Pray look fully to the corrections, and believe me [to be] not very sane or collected.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 13, 1870.
“The post, which failed completely yesterday, brought me your three proofs to-day. I now send a short, but not sweet, O’Dowd on ‘Irish Sympathy’ (whose correction you must look to for me), but which is certainly the best of the batch.
“I had hoped to have heard you mention the receipt of M’Caskey, whose revelations on the war will only be of value if given at once. I also sent off some additional matter for M’C. on Sunday last, and hope they have arrived safely.
“I wish you would send me ‘John’ as a whole. If you should do so, send it to F. O., to the care of F. Alston, Esq., to be forwarded to me. I do not know of any novel-writer I like so well as Mrs. O., and if I could get her to write her name in any of her books for me I’d treasure it highly. She is the most womanly writer of the age, and has all the delicacy and decency one desires in a woman.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 14, 1870.
“My sincere thanks for your note and its enclosure. It seems to me that I do nothing but get money from you. I suspect, however, that you will soon be freed from your pensioner. I am breaking fast, and as really the wish to live on has left me, my friends will not grudge me going to my rest.
“I am indeed glad that you like the O’Ds. I tear at least three for one I send you, being more than ever fearful of that ‘brain-breakdown’ than I am of a gorged lung or a dropsical heart.
“From your telegram about M’Caskey, I was disposed to think you wishedthe contribution for the October No., and set to work at once to send another batch. I do not now understand whether this is your intention. Of course (if possible) it were all the better it were begun immediately, because in the next part I could bring him up to recent events, and make his impatient comments on actual occurrences more outrageously pretentious and extravagant. You will tell me what you intend when you write.
“Some Hungarians—great swells in their own land—have been here, and are pressing the girls and myself to go to them a bit. It would be a great boon to my poor daughters, and for them I would try it if I could, but I have no heart for it. There was a time a month on the Danube would have been a great temptation to me.
“I will tell Syd to write to you, and you’re lucky if she does not do so with an MS.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 16,1870.
“The war interruption delayed your proof, which only reached me this morning, and as the second part must be in your hands before this, I am hopeful that it will all appear in October No., so that by the No. in November I may bring things down to the actual date of passing events. I wish this because I know that theaproposwill be the chief merit of the whole.
“When I can get him into diplomatic correspondence about the Peace, &c, I think there should be some good fun; but I shall not go on till I hear from you or see that this is out, as I always do best on the spur of publication.
“This dictating to the King of Prussia how he ought to make peace, when none of us saw or presumed to say how he should have made war, is to me insufferable; and the simple question, ‘How much moderation would France have had had she reached Berlin?’ settles the whole dispute. The insolent defiance of the Parisians within about a week of eating each other is a proof that these people may be thrashed and scourged, but the outrageous self-sufficiency cannot be squeezed out of them. I have not a shadow of pity for them, and it is without any remorse that I see them going headlong to—Bismarck!
“Victor Hugo’s address to the Germans beats not only Banagher, but beats Garibaldi in high-flown absurdity. Dear me! to think what old age can do for a man! What a warning to us small folk when we see a really great head come to such Martin Tupperism as this. Perhaps, however, it is a law of nature, and that poets, like plums, should be taken before they drop.
“Let me have even one line from you if I’m to go on with M’C.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 21,1870.
“In the hope that M’Caskey has reached in time and makes his bow next month, and seeing that as events go fast he must stir himself to keep up with them, I have never quitted him since I wrote. I therefore send off two chapters, whose headings I defer till I see the print, and will, if you approve, bring him up to Sedan in the ensuing parts for the November No.
“The absurd idea has got such hold of me that I cannot free myself of it even for a moment, and if the reader only catches myintentionthe thing will have a chance of success. In fact, I want to try a mild and notoffensivequiz on all ‘sensational’ reporting. M’Caskey, fortunately, is a fine lay figure for such humbug, and being already in part known through ‘Tony Butler,’ needs no introduction.
“I do not, honestly speaking, know whether the notion is a good one, or whether I am doing the thing well or ill; my only guide (and it once was a safe one) is the pleasure I feel in the writing, and this though I am in no small bodily pain, and cannot get one night’s rest in four—a great drawback to a poor devil whose stronghold was sleep through everything!
“Do write to me. I cannot tell you the amount of direction and comfort your letters give me.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 30, 1870.
“I am disappointed on hearing that M’Caskey does not appear this month, and perhaps more so because I concur in the reasons for the postponement. I suppose, however, that once the great tension we now feel about these events is relieved, even by a short interval, we shall not be reprehended for the small levities which we extend to certain people and situations, by no means among the most serious interests of the hour.
“Of course I am sorry not to be in England at this time. There is scarcely a telegram of the day without its suggestion; but I have less regrets as I think how feeble and broken I am, and how low and depressed I feel, even at the tidings that might rally and cheer me.
“I am greatly gratified by your message from Mrs Oliphant, and I shall treasure a book from her hand as a very precious possession. She is a charming writer, and carries me along with her in all her sympathies; and I shall never forget the pleasure her books gave to the sick-bed wherein all my hopes rested.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Oct. 22, 1870.
“As I am fairly knocked up at last—my malady making fierce way with me within the last week or so—I send you what I have done of M’Caskey. You will see that I have adhered to theactualincidents of the campaign, though I fear I have not been remarkable for a truthful construction of them. When I see this in print, and hear what you say of it, I shall be better able, and perhaps stronger, to deal with it.
“From four o’clock I cannot sleep with pain, and to a sea-calf like myself, who requires about a double measure of sleep, you may imagine the injury.
“The ladies’ wardrobe seized at Worth is a pure fact, and mentioned by ‘The Times,’ &c.
“If I could have counted on a little health and strength, I’d have asked you to let me translate the plays of Terence for your Ancient Classics. I have some trick of dialogue, and used to enjoy the ‘Adrian’ as much as one of Molière’s. I cannot now dream of this: my own comedy has come to the fifth act, and I actually am impatient for the fall of the curtain.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Nov.8,1870.
“From a line in a newspaper I learned the great disaster that had befallen you, and felt for you with all my heart. It is a true consolation, the thought that those we love are in every way more mercifully dealt with by removal, and I have that feeling as the stronghold of my own poor support—after years of struggle with what could not be cured; but still the grief isthere, and only time makes us able to reason with it. I am shamed when I read your letters to perceive how much I must have talked of my own health. I try at home to skulk the subject, but I see I am not so successful when I sit down to my desk. I am failing very fast, strength and spirits are going together, and I really see no reason to wish it otherwise. I only pray that with such faculties as I have I may live on to the end, and that the end may not be far off. My dear girls are doing all that they can think of to make my life easy and comfortable, and when I am free from pain I try to occupy myself and take interest in what I am doing.
“I had intended to wait your proof before sending a short additional part of M’Caskey, but if I have it ready, I believe I shall send it at once. Of course the proof will depend on you. I strongly suspect that Bismarck was endeavouring to get up aquerelle d’Allemandwith us about neutrality, which certainly carried the nation with him, and might be found useful when, at the close of the war, he either determined to take Luxembourg or assume towards England a defiance—which, without some pretext, would have been impolitic, if not impossible. He has certainly so far worked on the German mind as to make them regard the splendid munificence of England with distrust and almost dislike. With all this, it was a gross stupidity of the Tories to be French in their sympathies, but certainly the readiness with which they made a wrong choice where there is an alternative looks like something more than German.
“It does seem scant justice to make a whole people responsible for the inflated rubbish of Victor Hugo, but still, any one that knows France, knows that this senseless bravado is exactly what supplies the peculiar spirit of the nation, and that nearly all that dash andélanwhich is accepted as irresistible was only unconquerable by our own consent, and by a sort of conventional agreement.
“I think I remember Mr Wynne, a nice fellow, but an atrocious whist player. I have some dim recollection of having abused his play, and I hope he has lived to forgive me and can bear to think of me without malice.
“I wish I had had his campaigning opportunities,—not that I have the most fragmentary faculty of observation, but there is a colour and a keeping over all that one calls up in memory, which nothing replaces, and certainly Major M’Caskey would have been not only ‘circumstantial’ but occasionally ‘correct’ if he had known how. I thought I was imagining a very boastful and pretentious rascal, who had few scruples in assuring himself to be a man of genius and a hero, but I have just read the new preface to ‘Lothair,’ and I actually feel Major M’Caskey to be a diffident and retiring character, very slow to put forward a claim to any superiority, and on the whole reluctant to take any credit for his own abilities.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste, Nov. 11, 1870.
“While waiting for the proof of M’C. I finish the part for December. I now suspect that the war will go on to an attack on Paris, and mean to bring the next No. up to theactualevents of the day. It is only by exhibiting him as an audacious liar that his impertinences on the correspondent class could be tolerated, but they will surely not be touchy at being called to account by such a critic.
“The Imperial correspondence now published shows it is scarcely possible to invent anything too bold or too outrageous for belief, and the absolute vulgarity of the State contrivances and expedients is not the least remarkable part of the whole. If I ever get to the diplomacies of the war I shall have some fun.
“Of course the present part must look to yourself for correction.
“‘The Observer’ has a short notice of M’C. this week, and ‘The Sun’ another and more civil.
“Have you seen that the Emperor in his pamphlet endorses the very strategy recommended by M’Caskey—the attack on Central Germany?”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Nov. 14.
“It is not fair to pelt you with my ‘letters’ as well as my ‘literature,’ and you may reasonably claim some immunity on the former score.
“I remember a very important Englishwoman—she wrote a book called ‘The Unprotected Female in Norway’—once stopping me in the street on the ground that ‘no introduction was necessary, as I wasa public man.’
“I send you back M’C, which reads in places so like reality; but on the whole I think it will do, and hope you think so too.
“Sir H. Seymour writes me word that he believes he is going to succeed to Lord Hertford’s Irish estates, a bagatelle of £70,000 per an.! I know of none more deserving of good fortune.
“‘John’ reached me after my note was closed, with a charming note from Mrs O.
“Have you heard—that is, have I told you—that the ‘Neue Presse of Vienna’ quotes M’Caskey as a veritable correspondent? But the General Brialmont did more. In his ‘Life of Napoleon’ he states, ‘Mon. Charles O’Malley raconte que,’ &c, &c.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Nov. 20, 1870.
“There is a new complication, and forusI suspect a worse one than all—a Russian war! I believe that every one abroad knew that if even France had not the worst of it, the mere fact of her having gone through a stiff campaign, and been crippled of men and money by the effort, would have suggested to the Russians thatnowwas the time to deal with ‘the sick man.’ The inducement on seeing France totally disabled was too tempting, and they have denounced the treaty which they had determined not to assail before next spring.
“You know better than I do what people at home are disposed to do, and what’s more, what theycando. By the newspapers I gather that at last the English people are aware that they have no army; and as a fleet, even if it floats, cannot fight on dry land, we are comparatively powerless in ourselves. Of course we could subsidise, but whom? Not the Austrians, though I see all the correspondents say so, and even tell the number they could bring into the field and the places they would occupy, &c.: and our Ambassador at Vienna, I hear, writes home most cheery accounts of the Austrian resources. Now Iknowthat if Austria were to move to-morrow, her Slavic population, quite entirely in the hands and some in the pay of Russia, would rise and dismember the empire. Imagine Fenianism not only in Meath and Kerry but in Norfolk, Yorkshire, and Kent, and then you can have some idea of the danger of provoking such a rebellious element as the Austrian Greek.
“A friend just arrived from Florence tells me that the King made an ostentatious display of his cordiality to the Turkish Minister a few nights ago, and that we can have 150,000 Italians to come down to such assistance. Perhaps to accept the help might be regarded as a compromise by the Peace party in England. It is like the very small child of the unchaste young lady.
“A Cabinet courier went through here to-day for Constantinople,the Danube route being judged no longer safe, which is very significant: but what are we to do?
“Have you reviewed Henry Bulwer’s ‘Life of Palmerston’? I hear it very well spoken of. Bulwer has all the astuteness to relish theraserieof Pam, and I understand what the world at last sees was his mock geniality. But what would we not give to have Lord Palmerston back again, and some small respect felt abroad for the sentiment and wishes of England!”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Dec. 4,1870.
“I am so convinced of your better judgment, that when I differ from you I am ready to withdraw a favour and take your verdict. In the present case you will, however, see that ‘Pall Mall’ of the 29th has ventured on ‘quizzing’ war incidents and correspondents as freely, and I don’t think more successfully, than myself.
“At all events, you are the only competent judge of the matter, and I can’t move pleas in demurrer, and if it be not safe, don’t print him or use him.
“I only write a very hurried line to say so much, and now go back to a sofa again, for I am crippled with gout and worse—if there be a worse.
“I am not up to writing: the last thing I had done was an ‘interview’ of M’C. with the Emperor at Metz, and it is dangerously near the waste-paper basket at this writing.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Dec. 22, 1870.
“I am so low anddécouragéthat I have little heart to send you the two O’Ds. that go with this.
“The Gortschakoff one is, I think, smart; the other is only original. If the world should offer, meanwhile, matter for a third, I’ll try and take itToute foisif it be that you like and approve of these.
“I am going more rapidly downward than before. I suppose I shall run on to spring, or near it. Though, like Thompson’s argument for lying in bed, ‘I see no motive for rising,’ I am quite satisfied to travel in the other direction.
“I don’t wonder that the British world is growing French in sympathy. The Prussians are doing their very utmost to disgust Europe, and with a success that cannot be disputed.
“I hope, if you in England mean war with Russia, that you do not count on Austria. She will not, because she cannot, help you; and a Russian war would mean here dismemberment of the empire and utter ruin. If Austria were beaten, the German provinces would become Prussian; if she were victorious, Hungary would dominate over the empire and take the supremacy at once. Which would be worse? I really cannot say.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Dec29,1870.
“I give you all my thanks for your kind letter, which, owing to the deep snow in Styria, only reached me to-day. I am, of course, sorry the world will not see the fun of M’Caskey as do the Levers, but it is no small consideration to me to be represented in that minority so favourably.
“Poor Anster used to tell of an Irish fortune so ‘tied up’ by law that it could not be untied, and left the heirs to die in the poorhouse. Perhaps my drollery in the M’Caskey legend is just as ingeniously wrapped up, and that nothing can find it. At all events, I have no courage to send you any more of him.
“I am told (authoritatively) that Paris will give in on the 15th January, but I scarcely believe it. The Germans have perfectly succeeded in making themselves thoroughly unpopular through Europe, and this mock anger with England is simply contemptible. If this insolence compels us to have a fleet and an army, we shall have more reason to be grateful to than angry with them; but how hard either with Childers or Cardwell? and how to get rid of the Whigs?
“Gladstone’s letter to the Pope would be a good subject to ‘O’Dowd,’ but I cannot yet hit on the way. It is, however, a little absurd for a Minister to be so free of his outlying sympathies when he is bullied by America, bearded by Russia, and Bismarcked to all eternity.
“I am glad to hear of Oliphant. It gives great interest to the correspondence to remember a friend’s hand in it.
“I have been always forgetting to ask you about Kinglake. A bishop who came through here said he had died last autumn. Surely this is not true. I hope not most sincerely.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Feb. 15, 1871.
“I am now on my twelfth day in bed, somewhat better at last, but very low and depressed. I had, before I was struck down, begun an ‘O’Dowd,’ but how write for a public that buys 150,000 copies of ‘Dame Europa’s School’! Is there any use in inventing epigrams for such an auditory? Tomorrow is the black day of the post, and can bring me no letter, or I should not bore you with this.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Fiume Istrica,Feb. 28,1871.
“Your kind letter and its enclosure reached me safely here, where I have been sent to refit. I believe the word suits, as I have got fluid in my pericardium, and my condition is therefore one of being water-logged, which means unseaworthy, but not yet gone down.
“The Gladstone request to Robinson to falsify the date of his letter is too atrocious; and as the ‘O’Dowds’ are made of certain subtle analysis, this case cannot be so treated, there being fortunately no parallel instance to put against it.
“As to old Russell: he was instructed to bark, and he went farther, and growled; but as Bismarck knew he was muzzled, there came nothing of it.
“My impression is the Turks are going to throw us over and make alliances with Russia, and seeing how utterly powerless we are, small blame to them. England is rapidly coming to the condition of Holland. I think another fifty years will do it, and instead of the New Zealander, a Burgomaster will sit on London Bridge and bob for eels in the muddy Thames.
“So you mean to be in town this April? Not that I have any hope of meeting you. Tell Mrs Blackwood for me how glad I should be to spoil her breakfast once more!”
To Dr Burbidge.
“Trieste,March26, 1871.
“Your letter found me at Rome, where I had been sent for a change of air. It was my first visit to Sydney since her marriage, and I enjoyed myself much, and threw off my cough, and could get up stairs without blowing like a grampus.
“I cannot tell you how sincerely I thank you for your letters. I know of no man but yourself from whom I should have liked to have letters on the same theme, and if my illness did not make me as reflective as you hoped for, your letter has given me much thought.
“It is easy enough for a man to mistake deep dejection for reflection, and so far I might have deceived myself, for I have been depressed to a state I never knew till now.
“I am cared for and watched and loved as much as is possible for a man to be, and all the while I am companionless. The dear friend who was with me through every hour of my life is gone, and I have no heart for any present [? or future] occupation without her. My impatience is even such, that I do not like those signs of returning health that promise to keep me longer here; and I trust more complacently in breaking up than in anything. With all this, your letter has been a great—the greatest—comfort I have yet felt, and your affection is very dear to me. I think I know how only such warm friendship would have taken the tone and the words you use, and it comes to me like water to a man thirsting.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“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,April16, 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 Saturday 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,April25, 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, andbon 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 shirt-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 title of Doctor of Laws—the actual bestowal of the title 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 illustrated 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 assured 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,June14, 1871.
“It is in no ingratitude 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 identity,—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,July2, 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 gratitude 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,July5, 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 gratitude. I really believe a large amount of what I have said, which is more than can be asserted 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.
“I am very sorry not to be in Ireland now, when the [? ] have been invited to the Exhibition banquet on the 20th; but I have done with banquets now, and must address myself to my maccaroni with what appetite I may.”
To Mr William Blackwood.
“Trieste,July13, 1871.
“I should have liked to have detained these proofs until I heard what your uncle might have to say to them, but I am afraid of delay, and send them back at once. My hope is that he will like them, though I cannot dare to think that my chief, Lord Granville, will approve of what I say of his speech at the Cobden dinner. At any rate, if they kick me out, I can go home and be a rebel, and if too old for a pike I am still good for a paragraph.
“All that London life with its flatteries and fat-feeding has sorely unfitted me for my cold mutton v. existence at home; but it cannot be helped, and I must try to get back into the old groove and work along as before.
“There is now a dull apathy over life—the consequence of all our late excitement; but we cannot always afford to pay for ‘stars,’ and Bismarck is too costly anartisteto keep always on the boards. From all I see, the French are just as insolent and bumptious as before they were licked,—showing us, if we like to see it, what the world would have had to endure had they been the conquerors!
“It is a sore grief to me that I cannot go to the Scott festival; but I have no leave and less money, and though I believe F. O. might grant me the one, they’d even stop my pay, which is the aggravation of insult.
“I hope sincerely you don’t feel it a matter of conscience to read all a man writes, for if so I’d shut up. Only assuring you that now we have met and shaken hands, it is with increased pleasure I write myself, yours sincerely, Chas. Lever.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 6, 1871.
“En attendantto writing you a long letter, I send you these ‘O’Dowds’ now, which will give us more time to discuss them.
“That on our ‘National Donations’ is, I hope, good. I know it is called for. The shabby scoundrels from Manchester that want to manage England like a mill and treat the monarch like an overseer deserve castigation, and I feel you will agree with me. Is not ‘Meat without Bone’ good enough for use?
“I am so sorry not to be able to say all the civil things I should like to say of the Solicitor-General now, for when the trial is over I shall not be able to revive my generous indignation to the white heat it now enjoys.
“Why don’t you tell me some popular theme to O’Dowd? I’m here, as they say in Ireland, ‘at the back of good speed,’ and know nothing.
“A very curious trial occurred five years ago in Austria on a disputed identity, and the man questioned substantiated his case. It would be interesting if a correct record could be had.
“Ballantine tells me that Jeune is gone to Australia, and will be back in November with proofs of the loss of theBella, names of survivors, and existence in the colony of Arthur Orton up to November last. B. is sure of a verdict—at least, he is sure of his right to it.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 5, 1871.
“It is time I should thank you and Mrs Blackwood for your cordial invitation to myself and my daughter to go and see you in Scotland, and we are only too sorry we cannot manage you a visit, and in talk—for it is all that is left us—to ride over the links of Fife, and even assist at golf.
“Even if I could have plucked up courage to go over now, I ‘stopped’ myself by letting my ‘vice’ go on leave,—a piece of generosity on my part that has cost me heavier than I thought for, and gave me nearer opportunities of intimacy with Cardiff captains and Hull skippers than I care for.
“Of course, it is out of the question trying to write except on my ‘off days,’ when I shut out the whole rabble.
“I begin to think that Gladstone has been carried away by pure anger in all his late doings. It is purely womanish and hysterical throughout. To hit off this I have thrown off the short ‘O’Dowd,’ ‘What if they were to be Court-martialled?’ which, with a little change, will perhaps do.
“It is one of those cases which will be as long kept before the public, for it is the attack on a great principle—and in that sense no mere grievance of the hour.
“As a means of lowering the House of Lords—if such was the intention—it has totally failed, and even ‘Pall Mall’ has come to the side of the Peers, which is significant.
“I see Seymour, my old friend, has got his first verdict in the Hertford case. It is £70,000 a-year at issue, but of course the great battle will be fought before ‘the Lords,’”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 17,1871.
“About half an hour after your pleasant letter and its handsome enclosure reached me, Langford came in. He was on his way to Venice, but, like a good fellow, stopped to dine with myself and daughter.
“We are delighted with him,—not only with his talk about books and writers, Garrick men and reviewers, but with his fine fresh-hearted appreciation of all he sees in his tour. He likes everything, and travels really to enjoy it.
“I wish I knew how to detain him here a little longer; though, God knows, no place nor no man has fewer pretensions to lay an embargo on any one.
“I took him out to see Miramar last evening, and we both wished greatly you had been with us. It was a cool drive of some miles along the Adriatic, with the Dalmatian mountains in front, and to the westward the whole Julian Alps snow-topped and edged. I know you would have enjoyed it.
“I am so glad you like the O’Ds. As I grow older I become more and more distrustful of all I do; in fact, I feel like the man who does not know when he draws on his banker that he may not have overdrawn his account and have his cheque returned. This is very like intellectual bankruptcy, or the dread of it, which is much the same.
“The finest part of Scott’s nature to my thinking was the grand heroic spirit—that trumpet-stop on his organ—which elevated our commonplace people and stirred the heart of all that was high-spirited and generous amongst us. It was the anti-climax to our realism and sensationalism—detective Police Literature or Watch-house Romance.
“This was the tone I wanted to see praised and recommended, and I was sorry to see how little it was touched on. The very influence that a gentleman exerts in society on a knot of inferiors was the sort of influence Scott brought to bear upon the whole nation. All felt that there was at least one there before whom nothing mean or low or shabby should be exhibited.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Aug. 28, 1871.
“The day after Langford left this, my horse, treading on a sharp stone that cut his frog, fell on me and crushed my foot,—not severely, but enough to bring on the worst attack of gout I ever had in my life, and which all my precautions have only kept down up to this from seizing on the stomach. My foot was about as big and as shapely as Cardwell’s head. I am now unable to move, and howl if any one approaches me rashly.
“I told Langford of a curious police trial for swindling here at Vienna—curious as illustrating Austrian criminal procedure, &c. He thought I ought to report it in ‘O’Dowd.’ I send it off now for your opinion and judgment (and hope favourably). It might want a little retouching here and there, but you will see and say.
“I was delighted with your ‘Scott’ speech—the best of them of all that I read, and I see it has been copied and recopied largely. Your allusion to Wilson was perfect, and such a just homage to a really great man whom all the Cockneyism in the world cannot disparage.
“I am in such damnable pain that I can hardly write a line, but I want you to see the ‘Police’ sketch at once. Can I have a proof, if you like it, early? as perhaps when I am able to move I shall have to get to some of the sulphur springs in Styria at once.
“My enemy is now making a demonstration about my left knee, and, as the newspapers say,La situation est difficile.
“I am not so ill but that I can desire to be remembered to Mrs Blackwood.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Sept., 9, 1871.
“Between gout and indignation I am half mad. Gladstone at Whitby is worse to me than my swelled ankle, and I send you a furious O’D. to show that the Cabinet are only playing out—where they do not parody—the game of the Communists.
“Whether it will be in time to send me a proof I cannot tell, but you will, I know, take care of me. I feel in writing it as though we had been talking the whole thing together, and that I was merely giving arésuméof our gossip.
“Your delightful note and its enclosure have just come. I thank you cordially for both. I have not any recollection of what I said of Scott, but I know what Ifeelabout him, and how proud I am that you like my words. I cannot get my foot to the ground yet, but I am rather in vein for writing, as I always am in gout, only my caligraphy has got added difficulties from the position I am reduced to.
“I am glad Langford likes us here: my daughters took to him immensely, and only were sorry we saw so little of him. If he has really ‘bitten’ you with a curiosity to see Miramar I shall bless the day he came here.
“Tell Mrs Blackwood my cabin will be glad to house her here, and if she will only come I’ll be her courier over the whole of North Italy.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Sept. 10, 1871.
“You are right. There is little point—that is, there is no epigram—in the ‘Trial.’ I wrote it rather to break the monotony of eternal moral-isings than with any other object. If it be pleasant reading I am content, and, I hope, so are you.
“I sent yesterday a hard-hitting O’D. on ‘How Gladstone is doing the Work of the Commune,’ and I send you now, I think, a witty comparison between the remaining troopers and the Whigs. My daughter thinks it the smartest bit of fun I have done since I had the gout last, and all the salt in it comes unquestionably from that source.
“All the names in the ‘Trial’ are authentic. The lady is really the grand-daughter of Hughes Ball (the celebrated Golden Ball); and the man’s assertion of being ‘Times’ correspondent was accepted as an unquestionable fact.
“I have made superhuman efforts to be legible in this ‘O’Dowd’ now, so as to make correction easy. Heaven grant that my ‘Internationals’ be as lucky.
“I am still a cripple, and if irritability be a sign of recovery, my daughter says that my convalescence is approaching.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Oct. 1, 1871.
“I am so eager to save a post and see this in proof, that I have never left my desk for five hours, and only read it to Lord D. (Henry Bulwer), who was delighted with it, before I sent it.
“You have given me a rare fright by printing, as I see, what I said of Scott—at least, any other man than yourself doing so would terrify me, but you are a true friend and a wise critic, and what you have done must be right and safe: I do not remember one word of it. I have written myself back into gout, and must now go to bed. I had a sort ofcoupyesterday, and D. believed I was off.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Oct. 3,1871.
“I have just seen ‘Maga,’ and I am ashamed at the prominence you have given my few words about Scott.
“What a close connection a man’s ankles have with his intellect. I don’t know, but I can swear to it, that since I have become tender about the feet I have grown to feel very insecure about the thinking department, and the row in the cellar is re-echoed in the garret.
“Every fresh speech of Gladstone gives me a fresh seizure, and his last ‘bunkum’ at Aberdeen has cost me a pint of colchicum.
“I have an O’D. in my head on the ‘Cobden Campaign,’ but I suppose it is safer to leave it there. You know what the tenor replied when some one said from the pit, ‘Monsieur, vous chantez fau.’ ‘Je le sais, Monsieur, mais je ne veux pas qu’on me le dise.’
“Give my warmest regards to Mrs Blackwood. I wish with all my heart, goutnonobstant, I was to dine with you to-day.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Oct. 17, 1871.
“I know well but for golf and its ‘divartin’ sticks’ I should have had a line from you, but you have no moment to spare correcting O’Ds. amidst your distractions.
“I kept back the proof I now send to hear from you and make any changes or alterations you might suggest, and I have a half-done O’Dowd ‘On Widows’ which I shall keep over for another time. I am sorely done up,—only able to crawl with a stick and a friendly arm, and so weak that the Irishwoman’s simile of a ‘sheet of wet paper’ is my only parallel. Robert Lytton tells me he has got such a pleasant letter from you. He and his wife had been stopping with us here, and we were delighted with them both.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Nov. 1, 1871.
“I was sorry not to see my ‘Home Rule’ in ‘Maga,’ but sorrier still not to hear from you, and I tormented myself thinking—which I ought not—that you were somewhatchagrinéwith me. I am delighted now to find you are not, and that the only ‘grievance’ between us makesmethe plaintiff for your not having printed my O’D. I can forgive this, however, and honestly assure you that I could forgive even worse at your hands. It is the nervous fear that I may be falling into [? senility] as well as gout that makes me tetchy about a rejected paper.
“Henry James got very safely out of my hands. He has no more pretension to play whist with me than I would have to cross-examine a witness before him, and I told him so before I won his sixpenny points.
“I fortunately asked F. O. by telegraph if I should take on the despatches, as the messenger was in quarantine, and they said not. They knew they were Henry Elliott’s, and that the delay could not injure the freshness. He is a great diplomatist, and there is nothing ephemeral in the news he sends home. Drummond Wolff is here with me now and Lord Dalling, and our conversation is more remarkable for wit than propriety.
“While James was here I was too gouty to go out with him, and what the latter Q.C. (queer customer) means by saying I was dog-bitten, I can’t guess. I am now crippled hand and foot, and a perfect curse to myself from irritability.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Trieste,Nov. 3, 1871.
“If my late discomfiture in your opinion of my last rejected O’Ds. had not taught me that I am not infallible, I should say that the O’D. I now send you is, as regards thought or pith, as good as any of them. I wrote it in a fit of gout. Spasmodic it is, perhaps, but vigorous I hope.
“I have been violently assailed in letters for what I said about ‘touching pitch,’—but there is nothing that leads me to retract or modify one word I wrote,—some from doctors, well written, but on a wrong issue. You can no more make people modest by Act of Parliament than you can make them grateful or polite in fifty other good things.