_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _Aug_. 3, 1863.
"I send you herewith a short paper on Italian affairs. Call it 'Italian Letters' or 'Glances at Italy.' or anything you like better.
"The adventure with De Langier was my own. I accepted the mission at the request of Sir G. Hamilton, and very narrowly escaped the cross of Saint Joseph from the Grand Duke.
"I hope you will like the paper, but I reckon implicitly on your frankness. I have got what, if I wasn't so poor, I'd own to be gout in one knuckle, and cannot hold a pen without trembling. I'm off to sea to-night, but send me an early proof."
_To Dr Burbidge_.*
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Aug_. 13, 1863
* English chaplain at Spezzia.
"I have been looking for a quiet ten minutes to write to you, but it has not come yet, and so I send this off _in petto_.
"We got up here safely, and met my wife suffering far less than I apprehended, and not materially the worse for all the fatigue.
"It reconciled her, besides, to much that she could reach her own quiet old house here, which has for fifteen years been our home, so that though I proposed remaining a day to rest at Pisa, she would not hear of it, but pushed on bravely to the end.
"It is a wonderful relief to us all to have escaped from the Bagni di Basseti, the coarse food, coarse linen, and coarser language of its vile occupants. Sixteen months of such servitude at the cost of above a thousand pounds have eaten deep into me, and it will require almost as many more to blow off the steam of my indignation.
"I have cast my eye over the latter part of 'Tony,' and for the life of me I cannot see what some of the crosses refer to. If I send a proof down will you make the corrections bodily for me?
"Blackwood has written a most kind letter, and incidentally tells me 'Tony' is liked and well spoken of."
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
"Spezzia, Sept. 10, 1863.
"It is not very easy to write amidst the anxieties which money occasions--I mean the want of money; but probably I ought to be grateful that my occupation, being one which only employs imagination, necessarily withdraws me, whether I will or no, from the daily thought of difficulties which certainly reflecting over never diminishes.
"I am writing a new story--'Luttrell of Arran'--as sad-coloured as my own reveries; but how is a man to paint a good picture who has nothing but blacks or browns on his palette?
"As to work generally, I have, thank God, health and strength for it. I never was better, nor ever found it easier to apply myself. It is in the precariousness of a life of literature is its real deterrent; but for that defect it is unquestionably the pleasantest possible. At all events it has kept us hitherto, and, I trust, will do so to the end."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _Sept_. 19, 1863.
"By my last short note you will have seen how eagerly I accepted the opportunity of idleness and threw the blame of it on you,--though I say not altogether idle, having to look over again the story I have been writing for Chapman called 'Luttrell,' and which he has been desiring to publish some months back.
"I am glad to get back to my old den, Casa Cap., where I write more at ease and am freer from intrusions than here. Pray let me have No. 2 'Tony' to look over again, and send me No. 3 in the _form and quantity_ it will appear in the Magazine. Above all, let your people be sure to send me 'Maga.'
"These Italians are making immense warlike preparations. This week the king reviews 360 pieces of artillery,--more than half the number rifled guns. By the end of the month the fleet--now a very respectable squadron--will manouvre before him. Whatever wars France may engage in these poor devils are sure to partake of. Nice and Savoy are only instalments of the price they are to pay for Solferino."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Oct_. 1, 1863.
"I was called here by telegraph too late to see my only son alive. He died of a ruptured bloodvessel on Wednesday last.
"I have for some years back had many misfortunes; this one fills the cup. I am as bereaved as one can be. My wife is dying, and this shock may be her last. I have no right to obtrude upon you with these, but I think you will pity me. Pity is indeed my portion, for one more broken there cannot be. If I had not begun with you, I would not now, in justice to you, continue. You will serve us both by drawing out what I have written to a fifth number if possible. If not, I will do my utmost to be ready; four parts there are.
"Pray forgive me in all this affliction that I mix you up with what should not touch you.
"My poor boy was twenty-six,--the finest, boldest, and cleverest fellow you ever saw, and one of the handsomest."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Oct_. 12,1863.
"I can never forget your kind and feeling note.* Broken and crushed as I am, I am not yet insensible to such kindness. If you only knew how we lived with our children, how much we mingled in their lives and they in ours! It was but the other day my poor boy came back from India after seven years' absence, and the feeling that we were all together again had but just dawned on us.
*_From Mr John Blackwood to Mr Charles Lever._
"Oct. 5,1868.
"I am truly distressed to hear of the sad affliction that has come upon you in the death of your only son. God comfort you, and grant that your poor wife may be supported under this heavy blow. Do not disturb yourself about your tale. I will make arrangements to suit a man suffering under sorrow such as yours. We can either shorten the parts or suspend publication at the end of the fourth part for a month if you are not ready. All the opinions I hear of the first part are highly favourable, and would, under other circumstances, be highly gratifying to you. If I see any comments in the press likely to interest you, I shall send them to you. All your novels bespeak the writer a warm-hearted man, and I think much of you in your affliction. I showed your affecting note to my wife, who, although like myself personally a stranger to you, joins me in warm sympathy."
"My poor wife, too,--for two years a great sufferer from an internal inflammation,--was happier than I had seen her for many a day, and when I repined or complained about something, said to me, 'Well, never grumble about such disasters; remember all that we have to be thankful for, and that death has never come amongst us hitherto.' It was but one week after that we lost him.
"From my heart. I thank you for your sympathy, all the more, too, that you associated your wife in your sorrow for us.
"P.S.--It will be better for me, I believe, that I must work, and work hard; the tired head may help the heavy heart after all."
_To Mr Alexander Spencer._
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Oct_. 17, 1863.
"Your kindest of notes was very dear to me at this, the saddest day of my life. My poor boy was taken away almost in a moment. Some internal rupture, followed by great haemorrhage, overcame him, and he sank at once and never rallied even to consciousness.
"The great struggle of my life was his advancement,--to place him in a high and honourable position; and to maintain him there was an effort for which I toiled and laboured till I had parted with the little my years of industry had gathered, sold my copyrights, and left myself penniless, even to the poverty that I could scarcely collect enough to pay the expenses of the churchyard where I laid him. So much for human foresight! All my love and all my tact to be under the small mound of the churchyard!