Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume I Part 16

M'Glashan objected to tragedy--"the ladies wouldn't like it,"--and Lever at last consented to make a more or less happy ending to his 'Tale of Ireland, Fifty Years Ago.'

When 'The O'Donoghue' was completed, Lever wrote a short novel which he ent.i.tled 'St Patrick's Eve.' He dedicated this book to his children.

Being aware that his relations with the Magazine (and consequently with the publishers of his books) were none too pleasant, Mr Pearce volunteered to take the ma.n.u.script of 'St Patrick's Eve' to London. He went straight to Chapman & Hall, and read the greater portion of the story to the brothers Chapman, who promptly purchased it.* Mr Pearce is under the impression that at the same time he made an agreement on Lever's behalf with the Chapmans for a new novel--'The Knight of Gwynne.'

* 'St Patrick's Eve' was ill.u.s.trated by Phiz. Chapman & Hall paid the author 200 on account to cover royalties on the sale of 5000 copies.--E. D.

The year 1844 furnished Lorrequer with another challenge from a testy man of letters. In the January number of his Magazine a memoir of Dr Maginn appeared. It was written by Dr Kenealy. The article was of considerable length, and Lever informed his publishers that eighteen persons, ranging from the Duke of Wellington to Sam Lover, were insulted, and that there were at least four distinct libels in the memoir.

Lever cut out most of the matter which he considered to be offensive or dangerous, and the result was that Dr Kenealy sent his editor a challenge. But the matter was somehow arranged without a hostile meeting.

Lorrequer was growing heartily weary of editorial worries. Throughout his career he suffered from hyper-sensitiveness,--the complaint stuck to him in every clime as persistently as his gouty attacks. While he held the reins at the office of 'The Dublin University,' Ireland was in an acutely nervous condition. O'Connell was struggling for repeal of the Act of Union; the Young Irelanders were urging the people to adopt methods more drastic than O'Connell would countenance; the political sect to which Lever belonged was antagonistic to O'Connell and to the Young Irelanders. Party feeling ran high, party rancour flourished, and many a hard blow was struck. William Carleton fell foul of Lever at an early stage, and attacked him at every opportunity. 'The Nation'--that unique Irish paper, founded in 1842--published in 1843 an article about the editor of 'The Dublin University,' accusing him of every literary vice. This article was written by Carleton, who lived in a gla.s.s house, but was not afraid to hurl stones at his brother novelist. It became the fashion for every Dublin print which was not of the same way of thinking, politically, as Lever, to abuse him. He complains, early in 1845, of being racked by annoyances from every quarter, "sick of falsehood, pretension, bad faith, covert insolence, senile flattery." He thought Ireland would have welcomed him with open arms, and would have encouraged him to reside in it, and the incense that was offered to him, he says bitterly, was misrepresentation and abuse. He did not make sufficient allowance for the intense acerbity which distinguishes political bickerings. He speaks also of "vile headaches not leaving him night or day for months." He was plainly the victim of overwork. Five novels and numerous short papers had been written in less than three years, and during these years the editorship of 'The Dublin University'

used up a considerable portion of his time, and played havoc with his nerves.

He made up his mind to bid good-bye to Templeogue,--"to seek out a tranquil place in a foreign land," he writes, "and to work away among my children"; and in February 1845 he set out once more for Brussels, Mr Pearce accompanying him.

It was whispered at the time of his departure that he was in serious money difficulties, but two of his intimate Mends, Judge Longfield and Major Dwyer, vouch that when leaving Ireland he left no debt behind him. Lever's own statement to Canon Hayman was that Dublin people were telling one another he was about to take "French leave." "The truth is," he continued, "I came to Dublin so poor a man that I cannot be much poorer leaving it. But no one suffers by my poverty, except me and mine." Though he ceased to be the editor of 'The Dublin University'

he did not sever his connection with the Magazine until a much later period.*

* The average circulation of the Magazine (which, it must be remembered, was published at half-a-crown) was 4000 during Lever's editorship. The circulation gradually fell away, and early in the 'Eighties the periodical died.--E. D.

And here, as we see the last of Charles Lever as a resident on Irish soil, it may be suggested that it has been the fashion to contemplate his novels which have Irishmen for their heroes--'Harry Lorrequer' being rather a series of stories of desultory adventures than an ordinary novel--from points of view which indicate some obliquity or narrowness of vision. In Great Britain Lever is recognised merely as the humorsome delineator of the rollicking, mule-cart-topping, bullet-proof dragoon: in Ireland he is regarded by a considerable section of his countrymen as a farce-writer, or else as that abomination, the Anti-Irish Irishman.**

Many of his critics--English, Irish, American--a.s.sert that his sketches of Hibernian life are hopelessly out of drawing, that his gross exaggeration smudges the picture. William Carle-ton went so far as to accuse him of deliberately giving to the public "disgusting and debasing caricatures" of Irish life and character. This cla.s.s of criticism is born either of ignorance or of jealousy or of cra.s.sness.

** Some of his Irish traducers--meaning to be scornful-- speak of him as an Englishman, and imply that he was unable to view men and affairs with an Irish eye. Thomas Davis, like Lever, was the son of an English father and of a mother who was of Cromwellian-Irish stock, yet no Irishman dreams of referring to Davis as "a foreigner."--E. D.

Any one who will take the trouble to make himself acquainted with the chronicles of social life of the periods described by Lever will find that there is little exaggeration in his pictures. Of Irish peasant life he did not possess that intimate knowledge--it can be acquired only through actual experience--that Carle-ton possessed; but in none of Lever's books is there to be found anything bordering on disgusting and debasing caricatures of the peasantry. One of his later Irish critics goes so far in another direction as to insist that Lever "represents the native virtues of the Irish so delicately and justly that no Englishman is suffered to scoff at the poverty or ignorance of the people." The same critic continues: "Irish novelists are blamable for much of the reproach cast upon Ireland in other countries. But Lever is not chargeable either with caricature or concealment. Whenever he has to deal with the good qualities of a race much maligned, he shows that he is engaged upon a labour of love." And his Irish gentleman _is_ a gentleman. If any cla.s.s of Irishmen has a right to complain of unfair treatment at the hands of Harry Lorrequer, that cla.s.s is the priesthood: but this applies only to his very early books,--and Father Tom Loftus atones for much.

The English novel-reader in the lump cares less than nothing for Lever's most valuable opinions and sketches of current political and social life, or for his admirable pictures of a bygone time in the Emerald Isle,--he is anxious to "cut the cackle and get to the 'osses." Many an Irish reader professes to hold the belief that because Lever occasionally treads upon a pet corn he was impregnated with a savage desire to stamp violently on the foot of the patriot, eager to offer him a jibe or a sneer in lieu of an apology. Irishmen--if an Irishman may say it--are too ready to take offence at having their foibles laughed at. Race-feeling has much to do with this sensitiveness: circ.u.mstances more. The prosperous Briton can afford to enjoy banter. He says to himself, "He laughs best who laughs last"; and he is confident he is going to have the last laugh against somebody else. The mere Irishman resents having fun poked at him. He prefers, or pretends to prefer, unstinted praise to a reasonable mixture of praise, blame, and sarcasm; he knows that in his inmost breast he harbours the quality of merciless self-criticism. He does not desire laudation for the comfort of his inner self, but for blazonry--for the eye of the world outside his beloved island. Lever made no attempt to pander to this idiosyncrasy--like Don John, he laughed when he was merry and clawed no man in his humour; but whether he laughed at or with his country or his fellow-countrymen, there was no bitterness or spitefulness in his mirth.

Whatsoever his political opinions, his sympathies were as Irish as the Wicklow hills, and his kindly heart could not foster malice: even for his relentless enemy, the gout, he could always find a pleasant word.

VII. BRUSSELS--BONN--CARLSRUHE 1845-1846

Although he left Ireland in pique, and although he gave his friends the impression that he was leaving it for ever, it is doubtful if Lever had arrived at any definite decision concerning his future movements when he set out from Templeogue. It may be judged from the letter which he wrote to Spencer upon his arrival in Brussels that he had at the back of his mind an idea of returning, after a brief period of exile, to his native country.

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

"Brussels, _Feb._ 28, 1845.

"On my way through London I made certain publishing arrangements which can be fulfilled either by a residence abroad or in Ireland; and it is a matter of grave debate with what to decide upon. Meanwhile, I should like the power to resume my tenure of Templeogue, and would be greatly gratified if you could make such an arrangement with Gogarty* that I could hold on till the end of June or July on payment of a certain sum (say 50), and in the event of returning continue my tenancy as before. Should Gogarty make any arrangement to this purpose, pray then communicate with Bennett the auctioneer, and do not let him sell the oak or anything else, save the old lace given to him by my wife. If there be a great difficulty with Gogarty, I should rather retain the house and let it for the season in the event of my not returning. The other alternative of being turned out of a place which suits me so well [? is hateful].

* The landlord of Templeogue House.

"We have, _malgre_ two stormy nights at sea, [? progressed] admirably.

The children are in great health and spirits, and enjoying their old haunts here in perfect ecstasies.

"The weather here is cold beyond anything. Snow and ice everywhere.

Stoves and fur coats are able for it, however, and the elasticity of the air is actual champagne after the muddy small beer of a Dublin day."

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

"Hotel Britannique, Brussels, _March 22_,1845.

"I am regularly installed here in capital quarters at the Hotel Britannique, with every comfort in the midst of much attentions and civilities on all sides. The Rhine is frozen and the highroads ten or twelve feet deep in snow, so that further travelling is for the present out of the question, nor do I much regret it. We are well housed, fed, and entertained--away from the worry of Curry & Co., and at least enjoying tranquillity--if not deriving other benefits....

"There has been great delay about my book, 'St Patrick's Eve,' but I hope by the time this reaches you, you will have received a copy. I am anxious you should like it, because, apart from any literary [? vanity], I have taken the opportunity of saying my _mot sur l'Irelande_ which, whether unfounded or true, is at least sincere."

Pleasantly situated and infected with the gaiety of life in a Continental capital, Lever quickly forgot his editorial worries. The calumnies, the neglect, and the hard knocks which he had suffered at the hands of political and journalistic opponents in Ireland were forgotten or forgiven, and doubtless it was while he was enjoying this charitable and happy frame of mind that he penned his "Word at Parting," which was printed in the August number of 'The Dublin University.' (A publishers note accompanied the "Word," explaining that it should have appeared in the issue for July.) He proclaims: "I abdicate at goodwill with all my fellow-labourers, and for reasons so purely personal that I feel it would be an act of egotism to obtrude them on public notice." Then he goes on to say that he would have left the stage in silence,--there was not infrequently a hint of the theatre about his sayings and doings,--if he did not consider that his silence might be regarded as an act of ingrat.i.tude to a public who had contributed so much to his happiness, and who were so dear to his memory.

_To the Rev. John Lever._

"Brussels, _May_ 18, 1846.

"Etienne [or Steeni] has just arrived safely with all his menagerie in good condition,--not even a scratch on the horses,--and his newly-bought phaeton [? is] a perfect bijou, and when harnessed with my two new ponies, a perfect park equipage, and already the envy of Belgium and the Belgians.

"Will you think me a very shabby fellow if I ask you to give me back a gift? I would not make the request for myself or mine, but I am differently circ.u.mstanced at this moment. Sir Hamilton Seymour, whose kindness to me is hourly and increasing, has asked me to initiate him into the art or mystery of equestrianising his nursery, and even gone so far as to beg me to get him a pony. Will you give me Prince for him? I would not, as I have said, ask him for myself, but there are obligations which really weary by repet.i.tion, and I, who have not found too many such friends in the world, begin to feel a kind of depression at being the recipient of bounties. Pray, then, forgive me, and don't think me the meanest fellow in the world.

"If I am not asking more than I dare, will you send the beastie to Dublin and have him shipped--Sat.u.r.day morning--by _long sea_ for London, where Mr Pearce will meet him on landing, and take care of him.

I am ashamed (I cannot say more or less) of all this, but I own to you I feel I am on safe ground that you will not judge me unfairly or harshly.

'I'm in a dead fix, and that's a fact,' as the Yankees say. It is rather of consequence that he should be sent off by the Sat.u.r.day's Dublin Packet, because the Antwerp boat leaves London on Thursday morning, and if the pony were not despatched by that day he should stay a week in London. Smith, the gardener at Temple-ogue, would a.s.sist in getting him comfortably installed by giving one of the sailors 10s. to mind him during the voyage. He could be cared for--hay and bran being of course provided....

"I shall write a line to Saunders by this post to a.s.sist so far as regards payment of various expenses, land and sea. The beastie should be well m.u.f.fled up against cold.

"I have only one word to add. If all this be impracticable, difficult, or impossible, get Dycer to buy me the smallest, roughest, most shelty, 'Princely' pony that can be had. I don't care if he costs a little more than a horse-fancier would say was his value. 10 or 15 I'll give if necessary."

After a pleasant experience of entertaining and of being entertained in Brussels, after a round of visits to salons and to picture-galleries, excursions to Waterloo and elsewhere, Lever decided to set out upon a tour through Belgium and up the Rhine. He was accompanied by the full strength of his household, and about the middle of June he bade good-bye once more to Brussels.

His first halting-place of importance was Bonn.

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

"Hotel bellevue, Bonn, _June_ 24, 1845.

"I have certainly the gift of what the French call the _memoire de l'escalier_, or the faculty of remembering on the stairs what should have been said in the drawing-room....

"I am gaining in health and spirits and losing in flesh and depression, wellnigh down to 12 stone (_vice_ 14 1/2), and I can exercise from morning till night without feeling the slightest fatigue, and eat of everything most sour, greasy, and German, and never know the penalty of indigestion. For the three years I pa.s.sed in Ireland I had not as many days of health as I have already enjoyed here. This, though very favourable to comfort, seems little conducive to hard labour, for I cannot write a line, and really do nothing save amuse myself from morning till night. The temptations are strong: we have the Rhine and the mountains beside us, and, as we are all mounted, we pa.s.s the days on horseback or on the water. We dine at one! and so have a very long evening.... Let me hear how you like No. 7 [The] O'D[onoghue] when you read it."