Towards the end of October Lever, dazzling himself with prospects of splendid economy, set out for Florence.
On this journey he sustained a grievous loss. The Austrian authorities on the frontier seized all his papers, deeming them (Lever suggests) to be “part of a treasonable correspondence—purposely allegorical in form.” Amongst the lost documents were his University degree, his commission in a Derry militia regiment, agreements with publishers, private letters, and a protocol embodying the bargain between the novelist and Commissary-General Mayne, which (for a small consideration) entitled the author of ‘Charles O’Malley’ to introduce Mayne (with all his faults and follies) to the public as “Major Monsoon.”
A search was instituted, after Lever’s death, for the ravished papers, but the Austrian authorities could not, or would not, find them. An official—most likely Major Dwyer—who interested himself in the matter said, “I do not wonder at Lever having been suspected of anything, travelling, as he did, with piebald ponies, and wife and children with long flowing hair. The police could not make out what he was or might not be; and then he had that peculiar way of treating officials that seems to belong to many Irish persons whom I have known.”
The Levers entrenched themselves in “Casa Standish.” There was a private theatre attached to the palazzo. In common with his contemporary Dickens, Lever had a passion for theatrical entertainments. Mr Pearce paid him a visit in November, and was pressed by his host to prolong the visit for the purpose of playing “Joseph Surface” to Lever’s “Charles Surface.”
The Irish novelist readily adapted himself to life in “the very commercial but very profligate city of Florence” (as Father Prout describes it). He even went so far as to continue some of those outré displayings which had given offence to the inhabitants of another grand-duchy: he drove his piebald cattle along the crowded avenue of Le Cascine; and it was stated by unamiable people that he was at first taken to be a circus proprietor.
He was soon well known in fashionable circles. Florentine clubs and palaces extended their hospitality graciously; he was persona grata at the British Embassy, where his old friend, Sir George Seymour, held sway; he attended receptions at the brilliant court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Lever describes the Grand Duke Leopold as one of the most amiable of men and one of the weakest of sovereigns, able to keep possession of his throne only by avowing his willingness to abandon it.
Florence was the gayest of Italian cities when Lever established himself in the Palazzo Standish. The Cascine had special attractions for him. Florence, he declares, was to the world of Society what the Bourse is to the world of Trade. “Scandal here,” he goes on to say, “holds its festival, and the misdeeds of every capital of Europe are discussed. The higher themes of politics occupy but few; the interests of literature attract still less: it is essentially the world of talk.” And as Lever enjoyed conversation more than any other art or pastime, he revelled in Florentine life.
Notwithstanding the negligent attitude of Florence towards the interests of literature or its professors, many goodly British literary folk were denizens of the beautiful city of “magnificently stern and sombre streets.” Amongst these were Robert Browning and his wife, the vivacious and prying Mrs Trollope, and the once famous scientist, Mrs Somerville.
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Florence, Nov. 24, 1847.