Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume Ii Part 28

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"As to my new post--_keep the confession purely to yourself_---it is unpleasant, d.a.m.nable. There is nothing to eat, nothing to drink, nothing to live in, no one to speak to. Liverpool, with Jews and blacklegs for gentlemen--_voila tout_.

"It was a veritable leap in the dark, and I hesitated long whether it might not be best to pitch it to the devil who made it and go on penny-a-lining to the end; but Lord Bloomfield, our Amba.s.sador at Vienna, who really took to me, persuaded me to hold on for a while at least, and I have _asked_ for, and _got_, three months' leave, during which time I must either try and get some change or poison myself.

"All this avowal--made, as you may believe, neither willingly nor pleasantly--is made to you alone of all my friends, for I am heartily ashamed of myself for getting into such a sc.r.a.pe and talking rather mysteriously about my good-luck, &c., which is pretty much like a man's boasting at being transported for life. Trieste means no books, no writing, no O'D., no leave nor go of any kind, but moral death, and d------n too."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Villa Morelli, Florence, _April_ 6,1867.



"I got back here last night late to find your note, and I may own that I never 'touched' money that didn't belong to me with more pleasure than your cheque, plucked by innkeepers and cleared out by whist as I have been while away.

"Only think of my going to see Flynn in prison at Venice! I hope I'll be able some day to give you an account of our meeting. I have taken charge of the scoundrel's pet.i.tion for pardon, and believe I shall succeed in obtaining it, though what society is to gain by his liberation is more a matter for speculation than hope; but I am really curious to know what resources of knavery he has in his budget, all the more since his rival swindler, L. Napoleon, would seem at the end of _his_ rogueries, and stands fully exposed and found out by all Europe. I saw some most astounding correspondence of his on the Mexican affair, and it will be published one of these days.

"I'll go over 'The Fenian' the moment I am rested. Now my hand is shaking terribly, and I am a good deal fatigued.

"Trieste was a fatal blunder of mine. If you could hear of [any one who] would exchange with me, put him in 'relations' at once: I'll pay liberally the 'difference.'

"Of course I was not in London, though I read I was, in a Scotch paper.

I hope you and Mrs B. will not let May go over without a run to Paris and a peep at us here. It would be a great pleasure to see you.

"I am, as you may believe, very down in the mouth about my move. I feel as might a vicar leaving a snug parsonage to become bishop in the Cannibal Islands."

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

"Villa Morelli, Florence, _May_ 7,1867.

"I suspect my Trieste appointment is a bit of a white elephant. There will be a great deal to do, a large staff necessary, and the place is generally costly to live in. In fact, I believe it would have been fully as well for me to have retained my humble post at Spezzia, where, if I received little, I did less. But I was tired of being a country mouse, and began to fancy that I had a right to some more generous diet than hard peas.

"My poor wife has gone back sorely in health. I have many causes for uneasiness, but this is the worst of all."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Villa Morelli, _June_ 18,1867.

"I enclose you the proof and a few pages to wind up 'The Adieu.'

"You will see ere long that I am right about L. Nap. He means to play us a slippery trick about the East. He bamboozled us into the Crimean War, and he is now going to juggle us out of its small benefits.

"My wife is at last a little better. I got to bed last night after twelve nights of half-sleep on the sofa. I am fairly knocked up, and for this and other reasons do look to the proof, and don't trust me.

"You have heard that Elliott has been appointed Amba.s.sador to Constantinople. He is about the greatest a.s.s in diplomacy,--a big word when one remembers Loftus at Berlin and Howard at Munich. Here is an epigram I made on his appointment:--

"F.O. is much puzzled, we all have heard recently, To find proper Envoys to send to each Court; And while Lyons at Paris may get along decently, We rejoice to hear Elliott _est mis a la Porte._"

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"British Consulate, Trieste, _July_ 2,1867.

"Though my cry, like the starling's, is still 'I can't get out,' I exist in the hope that I am not to be left to die here.

"I send you a short bit on Miramar that I hope you may like. I'll follow it with something lighter, but I send this now to acknowledge your note and its eighteen-pounder (a shot in my locker that told with considerable effect). I see you will not pity me for being sentenced to this d------d place, but if you only saw the faces of the Shylocks you'd be more compa.s.sionate. If nothing else offer, I'll try and negotiate an exchange with Flynn. I'll be shot if there must not be something amongst the convicts more companionable than here."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Villa Morelli, Florence, _Sept_. 5,1867.

"I am pa.s.sing my last few days at the Villa Morelli, and mean to leave for good--if that be the phrase for it--on Monday next. My wife is still very ill, and very unfit for the fatigue of a journey; but short of giving up my post, I have no alternative. I hoped to have heard from you before I wrote, but as I have a quiet half hour--not a very frequent thing with me of late--I sit down to inflict it on you. I wish, besides, to ask and learn from you--shall you want me seriously next year,--that is, do you care to have a novel from me any time about April or May next? I am driven to ask this because I have had a proposal which, if you want me, I shall certainly not accept, nor am I sure I shall even in the other alternative.

"I am always hoping that each book I write will be my last; and if it were not that I have taken (mentally) as many farewells as Grey, I'd say this new and not-a-bit-the-less-on-that-account-much-to-be-thought-over story would be my final curtsey to an indulgent public.

"It seems to me you won't believe in a war in England. It is part of the national hypocrisy to cry peace while our neighbours are whetting their knives and polis.h.i.+ng their breechloaders. War is certain, nevertheless--as sure as the devil is in h.e.l.l and I am a consul!--two facts so apparently alike, it seems tantalising to mention them.

"We are in for a little war of our own, meanwhile, with the African savage,--perhaps to serve as an excuse for not taking part in the bigger fight near home. This policy reminds me of an old Irish squire who, being a bad horseman, always excused himself when the hounds met near him by saying 'he was off for a rat-hunt.'

"The next Glasgow steamer that leaves Trieste will bring you a few bottles of Maraschino, which, as Cattaro is one of my dependencies, will be real. I wish I could think I'd see you sip a gla.s.s with me one of these days beside the blue Adriatic."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Trieste, _Oct_. 18.

"It is not now I need tell you what a miserable hand I am at correcting a proof. The man who has never been able, after fifty odd years'

experience of his own nature, to correct one of his own faults, can scarcely have much success in dealing with his printers'. Look, therefore, to this for me, and let me come decently before the public. I have added a bit to Garibaldi's which is certainly _true_, whatever men may think of it in England.

"I am afraid I am not equal to a notice (a worthy notice) of Aytoun.

I never knew [him] personally, and I suspect it should be one who did should now recall his fine traits of heart as well as of intellect. All I know of him I liked sincerely.

"I abhor c.o.c.kneydom as much as you do! Without being a Fenian, I have an Irishman's hate of the Londoner.

"Only think of what a lucky dog I am! All our clothes, &c, coming from Florence have been s.h.i.+pwrecked in the Adriatic. They were sent from Ravenna, and the craft was wrecked off Pola. I must make an O'D. of it!"

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Consulate, Trieste, _Nov_. 16,1867.

Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume Ii Part 28

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Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume Ii Part 28 summary

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